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TO THE PUBLIC,

In preparing the YOUNG AMERICA SERIES Jor
our readers and the public at large, it has been our aim
not only to secure the best literary talent available but also to
reach as near perfection as possible in the illustrations and
general make-up.

The very kind reception given to " Tan Pile Jim " and
"Dick and fack," and the general demand for another
volume from the pen of B. Freeman Ashley, assure us that
this gifted author has struck, vnth his brilliant, wholesome
and instructive stories, a permanent vein of favor among
young and old.

" The Heari of a Boy'' {Cuore), by the greatest of
modem Italian novelists has been added to the Series on
amount of its immense popularity among teachers, pupils
and all readers of pure literature.

That the YOUNG AMERICA SERIES, having found

a place in every library, may be the means of elevating the

minds of beys and girls "from 7 1070" and furnish them

at all times with healthy recreation, is, and will ever be, the

earnest desire of

THE PUBLISHERS.

ERIESjor
m our aim
le but also to
'rations and

'Jim " and
for another
jsure us that
t, wholesome
avor among

greatest of
e Series on
•hers, pupils

<xiving found
•levating the
burnish them
I ever be, the

HERS.

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The Young America Series

AIR CASTLE DON;

Or,

From Dreamland To Hardpan

■'3*-^]

By B. freeman >^SHLEY

Author of " Tan PtI* Jtn," " Dick and Jack's Advanturtt," etc., ate.

ILLUSTRATED

Some dreams we have are nothing else but dreams,
Unnatural and full of contradictions;

Yet others of our most romantic schemes
Are sometimes more than fictions.

—Thomas Hood.

CHICAGO
LAIRD ft LEE. PUBLISHERS

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EnwrM ^sconUng to Act of Congre« m the year eighteen

hniulr«d and nlnety-alx, by

-VtriliUAM B. UEE,

m the oOoe of Uie Ubrarlan of Congrwa at Wa8l»lnKU.n.

(AUi BlOHTt KM»HV"D.l

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Dgloa

WriY NOT?

We now come to our readers with a story of city Ufe in con-
tinuation of our experiment of writing about things which have
hitherto remained, in great part, unexplored. The readers of a
book seldom have an opportunity to Ulk back to an author. The
author, for his part, would be glad to have hie readers talk back at
him; he would like to come into closer touch with them. Suppose
then that when you have read this book, you — no matter what
your age, sex or opinions may be — sit down and give the writer a
bit of your mind on this book, and iU mates, if you have read
them. And while you are about it, suppose you also tell him
what kind of books you like to have written for young people from
seven to seventy. It would be fun for you, and, doubtless, would
be fun for the author also. Send along your letters. They shall
be answered by an autographic letter from the author, that is, if
he be not smothered under them before he gets a chance to answer.

Why not ?

B. Pkbsmam Asblbv.

Care of Laird & Lbb, Chicago.

■ f ". '

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Table or Contents

PAOI

Introducca Don Donalda 9

Thel^adyoftheLakcClub ....... 18

Don Makes Two Moves M

In the City of Notions m

An Attic Philosopher 50

Looking for a Situation 61

Don Has a Great Day 79

The Backbone ofthe Black Art 81

Paying for a Disappointment 91

Old Failings Revive 100

Deep Water Soundings 109

Adrift Again lao

I<ook Before You Leap 139

How a City Becomes a Thombush 138

Spirits in Prison . , IM

A Perplexed Family 167

A Puzzled Youthful Pilgrim 168

An Involuntary Detective 178

Under Cover Again 189

A Queer Temptation 199

A Telling Illustration a09

Picking Up a Protege ai9

Talking Through His Hat asi

In a Predicament 949

Keeping a Contract 35I

A Frustrated Threat 268

An Elopement a7S

A Breathing Spell ,

An Enlargement of the Heart M4

As The> Sailed, As They Sailed 805

On Hannah Screechum's Island 817

A Parting Look Into the Kaleidoscope .... 881

^■liW«liMiiiiii"-|tY-i I III

ijiiiypp.^^i i i i ta»|iwM

AIR CASTLE DON;

Or, From Dreamland to Hardpan.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCES DON DONALDS.

It is possible for a boy to keep still, and that, too, without
being either crippled or dumb, asleep or dead. For instance,
there was Don Donalds. He sat upon a grassy bluff below
which there was a raceway through which rapid water tinkled
with perpetual music, and beyond which was a rocky islet
dividing the raceway from a small river that ran over a stony
bottom to a deep pool a short distance below. His back rested
against a mossy stonewall built by pioneers whose very mem-
ory had perished from the face of the earth. Behind the wall
there was an old apple orchard that was a Mecca for boy
pilgrims from t'le time of the earliest green apple to the time
when the last frost-mellowed one hung on the topmost bough
a sun-painted prize for him who had a searching eye and enter-
prising legs and hands. When Don sat there the spring birds,
holding undisputed possession, were experiencing the song-
provoking raptures of mating and nest building, while the
wind stirred through the leaves whispering strange stories o£
its adventures in earth and sky.

(9)

"'>iirti)iii*»iii 'iiii'iT'''T'rnriiiniWiliMi^

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AIR CASTLE DON

One patriarchal tree, whose juices ran to sweet apples,
stretched a long sturdy branch over the wall and held a thick
canopy of leaves over the boy's head to protec' him from the
rati.er fervid heat of the rapidly nooning sun. Two robins had
selected the very center of the canopy for their nest, and as it
was not among their calculations to have a boy so near, they
scolded at him from above, and in their restless protests against
his intrusion shook down showers of blossoms upon him.
Perceiving that he took no notice of their presence, and was
as still as the stones against which he leaned, they went about
their business. A chipmonk, however, seemed to take up the
fears they had discarded. He was making a journey on the
top of the wall, and coming to where Don sat, he gave him
notice to get out of the way by scolding at him with a series
of diminutive barks that sounded like the abdominal squeaks
of a toy dog. As no notice was taken of him he sat up c : the
topmost stone of the wall, and for a moment meditated in
silence. What manner of boy could this boy be that would
let a chipmonk come in sight without attempting to molest
him, and that, too, when pebbles were within reach of hand?
He ran by, and not satisfied with his meditations, sat up again
and whisked his tail in another attempt to solve the mystery
surrounding the still figure. He could see that Don's eyes
were open, and that his chest gave evidence of . his being
breathingly alive, but that was about all. The> chipmonk
passed on his way, but his subdued manner said as plainly as
any manner could, "I give it up. That boy beats any nut I
ever attempted to crack."

There was nothing mentally or physically wrong with Don
that he should keep so phenomenally still. His dark, viva-
cious eyes were filled with -slumbering fires of thought, and his
lively face and reasonably stalwart linidbs gave countenance to

.ft,"^?,;,.

- ,J^.,Am*»-

AIR CASTLE DON

the supposition that he was at that stage of his existence when
the monkey propensities of human nature are at their highest.
He, in fact, could clear a wall at a bound, and vie with any
noises common to the average boy throat, and was not slow to
join in the athletic sports or roystering rackets of his fellow
boys.

Perhaps he was looking at things around h'm, and listening
to the varied sounds that punctured the silence of the scenery.
Swallows and martins raced dizzily in the air and occasionally
dipped with crazy motions into the waters of the stream.
A milk-white flock of geese squatted on the green grass of the
islet pluming their feathers and quacking about their adven-
tures in the pool below. Beyond them a dozen or more of
crows were quarrelling over a herring that one of them had
pulled from among the shore rocks of the stream. A fish-
hawk circled high in the sky above them watching for a chance
to descend and claim the herring for his own, or to make a
swoop upon some of the trout that; ignorant of danger, occa-
sionally shot above the surface of the water in pursuit of insects
hovering temptingly near.

On the far side of the stream, the stones of the village grist-
mill monotonously grumbled as they ground out their daily
grist of oats and barley. On the near side, the single saw of a
dilapidated sawmill growled hoarsely as it danced up and down
and struck its big teeth into the vitals of a great oaken log that
was being turned into ship plank. Above the bridge which
crossed below the mills the low, vibrant thunder of the dam
predominated over all other sounds, reducing them to a gen-
eral harmony, so that even the whang of the blacksmith's
sledge, and the whock of the carpenter's hammer striking on
the other side of the stream were made tributary to the
concord.

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AIR CASTLE DON

Btit Don was paying no attention to things visible or
audible; and he remained as silent as the vacant church, school-
house and courthouse that formed the still group of public
buildings on the far side of the stream. A cow with a bell at
her throat came up the bluff and tinkingly grazed her way to
his feet without having any more notice taken of her, or of her
gently surprised moo than if she were not put on four legs for
boys to throw stones at or to torment in sundry other ways.
Like the robins and the chipmonk, she wondered at him
awhile, asking all sorts of questions of her internal self and
then passed munchingly on to where taller blades of grass
invited the coil of her industrious tongue.

Don had removed his hat— a curious chip made from the
strippings of a birch by an ancient Indian squaw for his
especial benefit — and had put it over a small flat stone to the
great terror of a pair of field mice that had been watching him
from beneath. Don was reading a book; and this was the
secret of his apparent indifference to things in Heaven, things
on earth and things under the earth. The book was so absorb-
ing that the whole outer world was as if it were not.

Not far distant, standing upon the middle bridge of the
thrice divided stream, and leaning upon the rail was another
figure almost as motionless as Don himself. It was the figfure
of an old Scotch flsherman, who had wandered around the
world so long and had seen so much of human nature, and,
other things, that his chief refrain was " Vanity of vanities; all
is vanity." This was Peter Piper of whom Madge, Don's
sister, declared, that he was the very Peter who picked a peck
of pickled peppers — the Peter Piper of the pronouncing puzzle
that Avard Doane, the village schoolmaster used to test his
thick-speeched pupils by. And she further declared that there
was no need of asking, Where's the peck of pickled peppers

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AIR OASTCB DON

lible or
school-
public
bell at
way to

ir of her
egs for

•r ways,
at him

self and

of grass

that Peter Piper picked? for he carried them about with him
and was always ready to administer liberal doses of them to
both yoang arid old on the slightest provocation. Her belief
in his sour and peppery disposition grew mainly from the fact
that he had once reproved her for doing her hair up in curl
papers.

Peter was in some respects the victim of popular injustice.
Although the softer soil of his heart had been covered by irrup-
tions of hard experience, it was not destroyed, and one had but
to go deep enough to find it. At that very moment he was
thinking of the native cottage and land from which he had
wandered so long and so far; and like many another of us
older ones, he was sighing for the days of his youth. And
knowing that they could never return in this life, he was trying
to console himself with the thought that some of the things
that he learned in the "auld kirk at hame" would turn out to
be more than true in the life to come. In his own way he was
saying to himself:

I am far frae my hame,' an' I'm weary aften-whiles.

For the langed hamc-bringin', an' my Father's welcome

smiles.
An' I'll ne'er be fu' content till mine een do see
The gowden gates o' Heaven an' my ain countree.

Shaking his tears into the stream to dry his eyes, he com-
pressed his quivering lips and resolutely lifting his head he
thumped his gnarled stick vigorously upon the planks of the
bridge in protest against his melting mood. Just then he
caught sight of Don and his book, and the sight restored to
him his peck of pickled peppers.

When Peter saw a boy reading a book at his own sweet
will — free from all compulsory tutorings, and in a comer by

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AIR OASTLB DON

himself, he at once jumped to the conclusion that he was read-
ing something that ought not to be read. He doubtless
remembered ilie escapades of his own young days, and judged
the lad by his own misdoings, as is apt to be tne case wi^h those
who have indicting memories.

"Gin I were the daddy o' that lad," he wrathily exclaimed,
"I'd take all his haverings an' burn them afore all men, an' gie
him fu' screeptural authority for that same: See Acts o' the
Apostles, nineteenth chapter an' nineteenth varse. An' gin
thfit wadna cure his appetite for all sich cantankerosities, I'd
supplement the fire wi' a gfude birch rod: See Proverbs
twinty-third an' fourteenth: 'Thou shalt beat him with the
rod, and shalt save his sou' from hell.' "

It eased Peter's recollection of his own shortcomings to
think that here was a chance to discover and comment upon
the failings of others. And he continued: "See what comes
o' havin' a' meenister for a daddy wha preaches sae much at
ither people there's naethin' left for his ain bairns. 'If a man
know not how to rule his own house, how shall he take care of
the house of God?' See fust Timothy, third chapter an' fifth
varse. Charity begins at home; see — see — ^Aye, Peter, where
did ye see it? Ye ought to know that it's no* in the buik, an'
is not a text o' the elect." **

And having tired of talking to himself, and to make amends
for having quoted unscriptural authority, Peter determined to
interfare with Don's reading, and to find out for himself what
he was reading. Don was so absorbed in his book that he
didn't notice Peter till he was close upon him.

Without ceremony Peter touched the book with his stick
and said with his whole peck of pickled peppers in his mouth:
"Ye'll be readin' Fox's Book o' Martyrs, or The Lives o' The
Saints, the noo?"

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AIR 0A8TLB DON

Don had had many encounters witH the Scotchman,
encounters which he rather enjoyed than feared, and he replied
laughingly: "No, Mr. Piper; I took those bitter doses when
I was coniinu up from the scarlet fever, and because Betty
Crowell brought them in and said they were good for sick
boys. But that was a bad day for the books, for the Doctor
ordered them into the stove after I got through with them lest
they should give the scarlet fever to somebody else. Betty
has been mourning for them ever since."

"More's the peety! Gin ye had filled yersel' wi' them ye'd
be more likely to make a mon o' yersel'." And seeing that
Don was not disposed to volunteer infortpation about the book
in h^md, Peter added : "Maybe it's the Scotch varsion o' the
Psalms ye' re tunin' yer soul wi."

"I didn't know that the Scotch had written any Psalms,"
said Don, half innocently and half mischievously.

"Hoot, laddie 1 I said 'varsion.' Dinna ye ken the
meanin' o' varsion, an' ye a meenister's son? Gin ye'd ben
nursed at the paps o* the Old School Presbyterians, like mysel*,
ye'd no' be the coof ye are\this minute." And not to be
diverted from his purpose, Peter returned to the charge. "I
make free to say that the buik ye're spierin' into belangs to the
frogs an' the lice kind which hae come into the land for its
wickedness. That's the cause o' your eegnorance of the var-
sion. 'Ephraim is joined to his idols': See Hosea, fourth
chapter an' seventeenth varse. An' may the Lord hae marcy
on your^oul afore ye're given up to a reprobate mind, for ye're
bewitched wi' wickedness."

"Yes, I am bewitched; and if Sir Walter Scott is wicked-
ness I am beivitched with wickedness, for I am reading Peveril
of the Peak, and this is not the first of his books I have read."

Don spoke proudly when he should have spoken with some

.MiidMiMiulMAWiaiUl^^

Biiiii

AIR 0A8TLB DON

twinges of conscience. He had read Scott to an excess. His
head was full of castles and towers; moats and drawbridges;
shining steel and brilliant banners; gallant knights and beauti-
ful ladies, and stirring trumpets and thrilling tournaments.
Under the wand of The Wizard of the North he had gone
straight up to the clouds, where he lived more than was good
for his mind.

The moment he mentioned Sir Walter Scott, Peter
changed; his gray eyes became luminous, and his world-
seamed face shared in the glow of his eyes. For the time
being he forgot the Book of Martyrs, The Lives of The Saints
and The Scotch Version of The Psalms.

"Sir Walter Scott!" he exclaimed with g^rowing excitment.
"He was the canniest Scot that ever climbed a hill or drew in
the breath of the heather! I was born in sight o' bonny
Abbotsford. When I was but a lad aft hae I seen him roamin'
the gray hills wi' his high bred dogs. His face was like the
sun shinin' aboon the mountains. These lugs o' mine hae
heard his voice soundin', sometimes like the waters amang the
rushes, an' sometimes likr the flood comir' down the brae.
Mony's the time I hae got him a flower frae the cliff or fetched
him a pebble frae the bottom o' the brook. He wasna a snob
always a fearin' his respectability might dissolve in a shower,
but he took my gifts an' thankt me for them, an' talked about
them like a gentleman. An' when I carried him a pair o' sal-
mon ye wadhaethocht I were a givin' him a crown. He didna
forget that he was a lad ance, an' though he became a lord he
was not ashamed to own the bairns wi' whom he played. Ye
mind his words in Marmion:

And much I miss those sportive boys.
Companions of my mountain joys.
Just at the age 'twixt boy and youth.
When thought is speech, and speech is truth."

gpii •

excess. His
drawbridges;
ts and beauti-
tournaments.
he had gone
lan was good

Scott, Peter
d his world-
For the time
of The Saints

ng excitment.
lill or drew in
ght o' bonny
n him roamin'
B was like the
; o' mine hae
ers amang the
Dwn the brae,
cliflf or fetched
wasna a snob
e in a shower,
t' talked about
n a pair o' sal-
vn. He didna
:ame a lord he
le played. Ye

AIR OABTLB DON

It y/w<i Don's turn to be astonished, and he said: "Why, Mr.
Piper i never knew that you had seen — actually seen Sir Wal-
ter Scott!"

"That's not to be wonnered at. 'What man knoweth the
things of a man, save the spirit of a man which is in him?' See
fust Corinthians, chapter two, varse eleven. We dinna so
much as know the people on whose toes we tread ivery day;
we are a' mecsteries to ane anither."

"Please sit down and tell me all you kno" about Sir Wal-
ter," pleaded Don earnestly, and with a respect that he had
never before felt for the old fisherman. And thus it happened
that the two who seemed to be at the opposite poles of life
found themselves on the equator together. As the man went
on with his recital of what he had seen of the great romancipt
an3 poet, Don saw that he was possessed of reminiscences
that were far more interesting than some things he had read in
the books about Sir Walter Scott.

"Aa' noo," said Peter at the end of his narrative, "I hae
said ower much to the praise o' Sir Walter, an' maybe yell be
readin' him mair than ever, ah' that too, without asavin' mix-
ture o' other things. The emagination, ye ken, is a gude
friend, but an unco bad guide. Gin ye live on stories an' tales
a' the time, ye'll be like the stork which is a' legs, wings an'
neck, an'- which has an uncanny way o' spendin' the maist o'
its time in the marshes cockit up on one leg by itself. Or ye'll
be like Jacob dreamin' aboot angels an' angels' ladders ower-
much ; see Genesis twenty-eight and twelve. Angels' ladders,
ye ken, were not made for tho likes o' Jacob to climb. Whin
ye get to be an angel itil be time enough to try that way of
rising; but while ye are a mortal bein', ye matm do your wrast-
tin' an' fight your battles on solid ground, e'en though ye hae
Xq do it in the dark, an' get your hip crackit in the doin' o' it***

.'Hi

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^■^

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CHAPTER II.

THB LADY OP TH8 LAKB CLUB.

Barrington Head was so far removed from the bustle of
the outside world that not even a telegraph instrument clicked
to disturb its quiet. The weekly stage arrivals, and the Sun-
day gatherings at the two 'meeting houses' v/erc the most
exciting events of . "rent history. An occasional gale of
wind with a seasoning jf thunder in it was welcomed for var-
iety's sake. The people went to bed betimes and rose up early
to greet the first rays of the sun.

When the village school was in session there was a pleasant
hum of life in its vicinity, for the youth of both sexes were no
exception to the'r kind when they gathered on the green
before the bell rang, or poured out in noisy tumult when the
welcome times of recess released them from their books.

The court house by the school seldom or never
had a trial to disturb its vacancy and stillness. When
the circuit judge made his annual visitation, the most
he ever did was to put on his robe and wig, and
then in addition draw on his white gloves in com-
pliance with the customs of the time as a sign that his docket
was white or empty of cases. With this formality the court
was adjourned and His Honor hied to the stream to angle for
trout till it was time for him to f;o to some other place to go
through with the same arduoiis ceremonies. There was so
little litigation in the h^mlel; ihat no lawyer deemed it worth
his while to become a rccident of it. The people knew their
own business and attended to it without any legal aid.

(i8)

MNHHMI

AIR 0A8TLB DON.

ic bustle of
lent clicked
\d the Sun-
c the most
nal gale of
ned for var-
3se up early

IS a pleasant
xes were no
1 the green
lit when the
books.

or never
less. When
, the most
I wig, and
;s in com-
U his docket
ity the court

to angle for
r place to go
'here was so
ned it worth
e knew their

aid.

It would have taken a day's travel to discover a liquor
saloon. Any attempt to fix such a curse upon the community
would have resulted In the tipping of the building into the river
without the benefit of either judge or jury. Drunkards were
as scarce as white elephants.

Nevertheless, quiet as was the hamlet it was the home of
mariners who did business upon the great waters, and who
went down tothe sea in ships and sailed with them unto the utter-
most parts of the earth. And not a few born in these scenes of
silence became the occupants of exalted stations in centers of
both commercial and political activity.

Don lived in an old colonial house near the bluflF on which
we found him sitting Arjth his book. The gabled residence
was a house of many rooms each one of which was finished in
a style suggestive of a wealth of wood and no end of time.

By the irony of Fate or the miscalculations of the builder,
the two porches of the rear of the house fronted upon the pub-
lic highway, while, by way of contradiction, the quite elaborate
front backed upon the orchard through which no visitor ever
thought of making an approach to the premises. Not so
much as a footpath invited from that direction, for the orchard
was bounded by a thornhedge, and the thornhedge by a salt
meadow that ended in the waters of the harbor — a deep dented
bay scooped out by the Atlantic during the innumerable years
of unrecorded time.

One gable of the paint-despising building faced a turn in
the road, and the old sawmill; and the other commanded an
extended view of the winding highway along which were
scattered the few houses of the hamlet that seemed in danger
of tumbling into the boundless contiguity of space or into the
dark evergreen forest that belted the sea-jagged ^oast.

One of the porches — the one that served as the main

inliiMrim

■iMMliita

f^mm

AIR 0A8TLB DON

■'•

entrance to this woodon cave — opened into a large room or
kitchen whostc* most noticeable object was the great fireplace
flanked on either side with v iwning ovens deeply set in the
enormous chimney. The crane and andirons, and great bul-
ging pots and kettles might have served for the kitchen uten-
sils of the Cyclopean monster whose single eye Homer's hero
punched out with the burning stake. The fuel for this omniv-
orous fire-cave was am|>ly furnished by the waste slabs and
logs from the convenient sawmill. The narrow window open-
ing between the two porches afforded a dim light to the odd
reception room into which no visitor entered for the first time
without experiencing both surprise and curiosity. The gen-
eral furniture of the room was largely extemporized by family
skill from the scantlings of the mill-yard.

The ample cooking facilities were exceptionally convenient
for the Donalds family, the offspring being both numerous and
healthy. And visitors were so frequent that it was seldom the
house was without one or more guests. Now it was the lord
bishop or the chief justice of the province, and then a patent
medicine vender, or a lecturer who carried an accordeon with
which to increase his chance of a hearing. The house, how-
ever, was not a hostelry; that dignity was reserved to the
Homer Hotel, situated on the green opposite, whose keep-ir
was a county celebrity, a member of the provincial parliament,
and a man of such knowledge and oratorical ability that when he
mounted the hustings the people bowed before his eloquence
as the tree -tops bow before the wind. His guests seldom left
his hotel without first paying their respects to the old house
and its occupants, and it thus happened that the Donalds, both
small and great, were kept well apprised of the current gossip
of the world without.

room or

fireplace

let in the

rreat bul-

hcn uten-

ler's hero

lis omniv-

slabs and

low opcn-

o the odd

; first time

The gcn-

by family

convenient
nerous and
seldom the
as the lord
en a patent
trdeon with
lousc, how-
•ved to the
lose keep-r
parliament,
lat when he
s eloquence
seldom left
e old house
onalds, both
rrent gossip

As Don knew the haunts of the trout, and was skilled in the
lures best adapted to them, he was in fre(|ui*nt dcman<l as a
guide to the fishing pools. But boing jealous of his reputa-
tion as a companion he always refused compensation as an
attendant. Although the visitors often smiled at his airs, he
suffered no inconvenience from their private opinions, for
where ignorance is bliss 'tis folly to be wise.

One day a man of middle age, all the way from London
made his appearance in the place and s'^nified his intention to
remain for several weeks. Little by little it came out that he
was an artist of great distinction ; one who had made sketches
in Africa, India, South America and in the United States; and
one whose domestic infelicities had been paraded wherever the
English language was printed. Mr. Barry, for thrt was hi»
name, sought the province thinking that he could here effectu-
ally seclude himself, but only to find that his fame had pre-
ceded him. Although connected with a titled family , his manners
were simple and hearty, and he was as much devoid of all pre-
tence as though he were tlie descendent of a log cabin family.
Being a passionate angler and hunter, as well as an ardent
artist, he at once secured Don for his attendant.

When Peter Piper saw them together for the first time,
he said in his most peppery manner: "It's unco bad for a
nobody to be cheek-by-jowl wi' a somebody unless, like Elisha
he grows beeg enough to wear his mantle; see fust Kings,
nineteenth an' nineteenth. The lad'll be going straight to the
clouds, an' when his ludship's gone it'll be a twel' mo before
he sees ground agen."

At the same moment Barry was saying to Don: "That's
a saucy looking little craft lying out there in the bay. I'd like
to charter her while I'm here. She's just the size for nosing
in and out among the harbors of this coast." If he had looked

■j'^^il^Cit.iJ^

IT""

tlik f ^ i i n.: jut,

AIR CASTLE DON

more closely he would have seen that her sails were not bent,
and that she was far from being in trim for sea-work.

"That's The Lady of The Lake," Don replied.

"Lady of The Lake?" exclaimed the artist. "How did she
get such a name as that in such an out of the wa> place as
this?"

"She was built in the woods by Jacob Kendrick, a man who
knew as much, about Sir Walter Scott's poems as he did about
his Bible, and what he didn't know about the Bible was
sc.ircely worth knowing;" and Don answered with spirit.

"Built in the woods?" Barry exclaimed, with increasing
surprise.

"Yes; three miles above this; back of Oak Park; two of
them. The other one was called The Youth. The Lady is
about twenty-five tons burthen, and the other was about nine-
teen tons."

"How did they get them down to the sea?" Barry inter-
rupted, believing that he had stumbled upon a new thing under
the sun.

"They put them in cradles, and the cradles on rollers and
hauled them down with a long row of oxen to low water mark ;
and when the tide came in, they floated as trimly as though
they had been built in a regular shipyard and had gone into
the sea on tallowed skids."

"And you saw all this with your own eyes?" and Barry
looked into Don's eyes as if searching the retina for some pho-
tograpii of the scene.

"Oh, no, but it's just as true as if I did. That was more
than thirty years ago; and the little craft out there having
served her day, is no longer fit for sea. She is now head-
quarters for The Lady of The Lake Club, and but for the club
she would have been torn to pieces long before this."

i;Vi* ■■ '•fSh'-ti.

>l<y<MhiJ» ff. » . i» . i J. % jMv i [ | [ !■ nmri ip i ' . * I ■ " m m

w did she
place as

man who
did about
3ible was
lirit.
ncreasing

k; two of
e Lady is
bout nine-

irry inter-
ling under

-oilers and

ater mark ;

as though

gone into

and Barry
some pho-

was more
ere having
now head-
or the club

AIR OASTLB DON

"Well, I have stumbled upon some oddities in my time,
but, judging from what I am learning in this place, I have not
yet exhausted them all. Pray, what is this club of which you
speak?"

"It is a club of ten boys — the upper ten of Barrington —
ranging from twelve to sixteen. I'm the Grand Keyman of
the club, and if you would like to go aboard and take a closer
look at The Lady of The Lake, I'll row you off at your
convenience."

"I'll accept your invitation on the spot; we can afltord to let
the trout keep themselves in the water till we get back."

Don led the artist down to Sargent's wharf without delay.
Here they stepped into a gaily painted yawl, of which Barry
said with a merry twinkle: "Somebody believes in paint as
much as I do."

"Yes," Don replied, with some hesitation; "we painted her
ourselves and with the odds and ends of all the forsaken
paint-pots of the village."

"Here, I'll take one of those oars," said Barry, as he saw
Don seat himself with both oars in hand.

"Then you can row?" Don answered, looking rather sus-
piciously at the artist's delicate hands.

"I was born on the Thames, and have wet several pieces of
wood first and last; but you may play stroke-oar if you wish."

"Well, here we go," and Don fetched a stroke which was
intended to swing the boat strongly against the artist's side.

But Barry countered the stroke so quickly the yawl instead
of looking around to watch her wake shot ahead as straight as
an arrow, and Don instead of giving a lesson to Barry took
several for himself. When they reached the vessel the artist
was breathing as easily as an infant, while Don was puffing like
a porpoise.

.!-^^UU.& .J^.f*i

.i^iU.«''»»tr«w;8i.f'i«,,

■itemt'-'

iPHM

*PpN

•IIHIMPI

"St""

AIR CASTLE DON

"She is rather past the prime of life," said Barry compre-
hensively, running his eyes over the craft swiftly and discov-
ering that although she sat the water like a duck, all her run-
ning rigging had been removed, save the color-halliards
which ntill clung to the maintopmast as if for use. The railing
was much dented and weatherworn, and the decking showed
many signs of amateur calking and tarring where the club had
worked to prevent the seams from gaping too widely to the
weather.

Taking a formidable key from his pocket, Don turned the
great padlock from the companionway-staple and pushing
back the slide, and shoving open the two parts of the little
door, stood aside for Barry to descend the steps to the cabin.
The bulkhead, which originally divided the cabin from the
hold, had been removed and a new partition made, which
increased the length of the room to half the length of the
vessel.

"Wait till I light the chandelier so that you can see better,"
said Don, as the artist stumbled against the near end of a
long table wb''Mi ran lengthwise the narrow cabin.

"That is a chandelier worth having," remarked the artist
when the suspended moose-antlers illuminated by ten candles,
one for each member of the club, lighted up the cabin.
Taking one of the plain wooden chairs placed neatly by the
table, which he noticed was covered with clean napery and a
fair supply of dishes ready for use, the artist sat down and
began to look around. One end of the table that was not
occupied by dishes was covered with books. The plain spaces
of the cabin were pasted over with pictures, and little shelves
here and there contained curiosities gathered from forest,
stream and sea shore. But what most attracted him was a
motley array of many-hued and many-shaped robes that hung
upon the rear wall of the cabin.

>mu^.

f^^^

-SW^Sr-

-ffwJT'WTWf

Ifr*"^

AIR 0A8TLB DON

y compre-
nd discov-
II her run-
ir-halliards
rhe railing
^g showed
e club had
iely to the

turned the
d pushing
)f the little
I the cabin.
1 Krom the
ade, which
igth of the

see better,"
ir end of a

d the artist
ten candles,

the cabin,
latly by the
ipery and a
t down and
lat was not
plain spaces
ittle shelves
Tom forest,

him was a
:s that hung

"What's all this?" Barry asked, going up to the garments
£nd fingering them over.

Don almost giggled at the artist's eager curiosity, and said:
"When the ship Anglo-Saxon was cast away on Cape Island
several years ago she had on board a whole company of actors
and actresses who were bound for England. All were safely
rescued and sent to Halifax. Among the few things saved
was the theatrical outfit of the company. At the auction of
the wreckage no one wished to buy the 'unholy stuff', and it
was stowed away in an old shed. To prevent it from rotting
uselessly v/e took possesion of it for the benefit of the club.
It's all there from the royal garments of the king and queen
down to the cap and bells of the king's fool. The robes are
rather the worse for the wear, but I guess they will hang
together as long as the club does."

"This is a brand new freak of rustic juvenility," said Barry
scratching his eyebrows vigorously. "Tell me more about
your club."

"We have heard that secret societies call their officers by
the biggest names they can get, and then buy robes to fit the
names. Examples are catching, you know."

"Who are your officers, and what do you call them?"

"Arnold Doane, Most Sovereign Potentate ; James Doane,
Grand Viceroy; Joshua Smith, Sublime Scribe; John Perry,
Sublime Warden of Pounds Shillings and Pence ; James Cox,
Sublime Door Defender; Joshua Harding and John Homer,
Jr., Sublime Marshals of Pots and Kettles; George Crowell
and Winthrop Sargent, Jr., Most Puissant Dishwashers and
Keepers of the Pantry. Besides being Grand Keyman, I am
Knight of the Cap and Bells. We change officers every three
months. The Fool's Cap is the badge which is the most
eagerly sought. Every one is obliged to fit his language to

•Aim

■iii

AIR CASTLE DON

his clothes. We meet once a week, and each one brings some-
thing for the supper. No monkeying is allowed except by the
Regular Fool. Part of the time is spent in reading. If you'll
come to the next meeting and tell us something about hunting
the tiger in Africa and the elephant in India, where you have
been so much, we'll make you an honorary member and put
the king's robes upon you at youi visit. I am Grand Sover-
eign Committee on Guests and will see that the invitation is
written out and sent to you in form."

"I'll come, sure," said Barry, and his ready acceptance so
pleased Don that he determined to do all he could to make the
visitation the event of the club's history.

"But what use do you make of these female robes — ^worship
them?" asked Barry.

"At the installation of officers each member of the club is
privileged to bring one girl friend with him, and to offer to her
for her use during the evening the robe which is the nearest
match to his own rank in the society."

Barry went to the club according to promise, and after he
had entertained them for an hour with an account of his travels
and some of his adventures in Africa and India he compliantly
allowed them to put upon him the king's robe and tinsel crown
and, notwithstanding the grotesqueries of the ..meeting and the
banquet, he enjoyed himself to the fullest bent of his humor.
He had insisted as one condition of his visit, that nothing of
their usual form should be omitted.

Thereafter the boys were at the disposal of the artist for
anything that could administer to his pleasure or to the main
object of his stay in the vicinity. He was well acquainted with
the stirring history of the ancient times of this part of Acadia,
and told them more about the vicinity than any of them had
ever heard before. They took him in their yawl and under

■A-if.

igs some-
ept by the
If you'll
It hunting
you have
:r and put
rd Sover-
vitation is

eptance so
) make the

i — ^worship

the club is
affer to her
the nearest

nd after he
[ his travels
:ompliantly
insel crown
ing and the

lis humor.

nothing of

le artist for
:o the main
lainted with

of Acadia,
f them had

and under

AIB GASTLB DON

sail carried him to Cape Sable because he wanted to see the
famous island upon which the Norseman, Leif, the son of Eric
the Red, of Brattahlid, in Greenland, landed before he went
on to discover the shores of Massachusetts and Rhode Island.
He was acquainted also with the fact that the Cape was the
scene of the exciting adventures of the French Latour and his
beautiful and heroic wife, and that Port Latour, just below
Barrington, was named after the Frenchman, he having built
a fort and made his home there many years, growing rich
on the furs bought from the Indians, who at that time were
thick in the land. It wac here that his wife — 'Constance of
Acadia' — ^acquired unlimited power over the savages by living
among them as one of them and teaching them the simpler and
gentler arts of civilization. It was here, during the absence of
her husband, that she successfully defended the fort against
their white enemies and put them to flight. The boys of the
club ro'. ed the artist down to Coffintown and walked with him
over to Port Latour in search of the remains of the old
fortification.

On their return, while passing through a clump of pines not
far from Coffintown, Don said to Barry: "Here is the place
where the club played ghosts and captured a cap and sword
from an officer of a war ship."

"How was that?" asked the artist.

"A man-of-war came into the mouth of the channel and
spent several weeks surveying the harbor for chart purposes.
The purser got acquainted with a pretty g^rl living not far from
this, and pretended to make love to her. He visited her in full
uniform with side arms, and cap with the newest gilt band
more than two inches wide. We got wind of the time of one
of his visits and came down, each one dressed in the longest
robe available from our supply, and hid ourselves in this clump

'41

■lyiyl

28 AIR GASTLB DON

of trees. At midnight we heard him clamping along in the
darkness on his way back to his boat, and when he got oppo-
site the place where we were lying flat on the ground, we rose
up with a yell and with our robes flaunting about us, gave
chase to him. He fled like a calf, dropping his cap, and finally
losing his sword out of its scabbard. These we picked up and
carried with us back to The Lady of the Lake."

"Did you ever hear from him after that?" asked Barry,
when he recovered from his merriment.

"Not a word," Don replied. "What account he gave of
himself when he reached the ship, never reached the shore; nor
did he ever come on shore again while the ship was here."

"Evidently Acadian ghosts were not to his liking. But
does The Lady of The Lake Club do much of that sort of work
among the sinners who happen here occasionally?"

"Oh, no!" responded the mild-mannered Most Sovereign
Potentate of the club; "there is no need of a vigilance com-
mittee in such a place as this. We'll confess, however, that we
once tried to cure a very bad case of foul-mouth by taking a
boy who was affected with it down to the river, and scouring
his mouth with soft soap, sand and water. The remedy
appeared to be effective for awhile, but when he removed to
another place it is said that the disease broke out worse than
ever. Our outside work is mostly confined to widow work."

"Please enlighten me — what kind of work is that?"

"There are several women in the neighborhood whose
husbands were lost at sea. Some of them are in poor circum-
stances, and we do what we can to keep their wood-piles from
getting low, and if their garden or potato-patch needs looking
after we offer our services, for all of us know how to work."

"Young gentlemen," and the artist spoke with deliberation
and emphasis, "your titles are rather top-heavy, and yoUr club

' ' ■i|Pp|.|^P||i^Wpm^/Mf!W ' *:"-' ^J ..gji|.y. i ,iB ii »,ii i . i .yw,^ ,

AIU CASTLE DON

ilong in the
le got oppo-
und, we rose
3Ut us, gave
p, and finally
icked up and

isked Barry,

t he gave of
he shore ; nor
IS here."

liking. But
t sort of work
•?"

3st Sovereign
igilance com-
vever, that we
h by taking a

and scouring

The remedy
le removed to
ut worse than
widow work."
that?"

arhood whose
1 poor circum-
ood-piles from

needs looking
how to work."
,th deliberation

and yoUr club

clothes £.re a bit gaudy and flimsy, but there is no discount on
your deeds. By way of expressing my approbation of your
aims I shall, while I am here, paint a panel for your club
quarters; and I hope that it will give you as much pleasure as
you have given me."

This was such an unexpected honor that the club greeted
the announcement with a three times three, and the ghost yell
with which they vanquished the purser of the man-of-war ship.

I
f<5

CHAPTER III.

' ; DON MAKES TWO MOVBS.

Don's days were not all spent in reading and dreaming and
leading gentlemanly excursionists around the region. Family
needs required that he should pick up pennies wherever they
could be had for the equivalent of work. When in the spring
the herring were going up-stream he stood all day long upon
the rocks and dipped them into his herring barrel, and when in
the fall the eels were going down-stream, he stood on the
bridge till twelve of night ensnaring them with his net, for both
herring and eels were easily turned into cash. He mended
holes in the highway, picked rock-weed when the tide was out,
shingled shanties, cleared the slabs from the gangway of the
little saw-mill, turned oats in the kiln of the grist-mill, and
planted potatoes or dug them. When the wild berry season
was on, he made them pay tribute; and when the rabbits were
on the run in winter, he turned many of them into the family
larder. He hated a gun, but was never averse to fishing
tackle, and so first and last he was worth at least as much as
his salt came to.

One day he was ten feet underground scooping earth into
a bucket as a well digger, when Feter Piper, who was at the
windlass over his head shouted down the opening: "Come
up, lad; here's a mon a' the way frae Argyle that wants to see
Don Donalds."

Argyle was thirty miles away. He knew no man there,
and wondering what his errand could be, Don climbed the

r.v))

reaming and
ion. Family
herever they
in the spring
ly long upon

and when in
Uood on the
\ net, for both

He mended

tide was out,

ngway of the

rist-mill, and

berry season

rabbits were
ito the family
se to fishing
X as much as

ng earth into

lo was at the

ing: "Come

wants to see

o man there,
climbed the

:»

*%*-

.^^v-■v^ ;"■..;

AIR 0A8TLB DON

bucket rope, hand over hand, begrimed with mud, presented
himself to the dapper little gray haired man who awaited his
appearance.

"You have been recommended to us for a teacher," said
the man without ceremony. "My name is Thomas Tubbins,
and I have come down to engage you for the fall and winter
terms. Will you come?"

"But I have never taught, and I'm only fourteen years of
age," Don replied, in astonishment.

"You are well enough qualified, that I have found out
already," said Tubbins, "and that you are big enough and strong
enough to handle anybody we've got in our school I can see
with my own eyes. Say yes, and we'll settle the rest in no
time. School is to begin week after next."

"I must first go home and see what they say about it
there," Don replied, rather overwhelmed at this summary way
of doing business.

"Oh, I went down to the house first, and your father said
yes, providing you thought you could manage a school. It's
between us two now ; if you're not minded that way» I'll hunt
up somebody else."

Don stood hesitating when Peter broke in with: "How
long halt ye between two opinions. The Scriptures bid ye to
do with all your might whatsoever your hands find to do; see
Ecclesiastes nine and ten."

"I'll go," said Don, acting rather upon his own judgment
than upon the texts Peter was inclined to fling at him.

"You win board at my house; there is nothing else for me
to say; so, good day." And Mr. Tubbins walked away with-
out deigning another word or look.

"Blunt as a peekax and straight as a crowbar," was Peter's
comment as Tubbins disappeared over the wall into the high-

-^jfc"— - ..« J .

• fii^r'fiiiatf'

mmm^

Wf^^

AIR 0A8TLR DON

:m i'-

way. "Yr'll ken him a' right withouten ony deectionary.
But ye maun fcenish the well afore ye take the schoolmaster'i
rod."

"Of course," responded Don, at the same moment making
for the rope and sliding down to the bottom of the well again,
well satisfied with himself and all the world besides.

He had resumed his labors but a short time when he called
out: "Peter, I've struck a pile of money!"

"What do ye mean?" asked Pe' r. thinking that Don was
making sport of him in the fullness ot his spirits.

"There is money here in the dirt," and Bon threw a num-
ber of black coin into the pail, saying: "Pull the pail up and
see for yourself."

"Lord help us!" Peter exclaimed in alarm, while he turned
the coin over in his hand; "I hope Providence isna goin' to
spoil ye by puttin' gowd unner your feet now that ye're elected
to become a teacher o' bairns." But he presently added with
a sigh of relief: "Ye're delivered frae temtation, lad, for the
stuff turns to dust though ye try it never so little."

They were working through an old cellar over which a
house had gone up in fire many years before. The total num-
ber of coin discovered were few and of no value. Being Span-
ish pistareens r.iade of adulterated silver, they were so
thoroughly corroded that they broke and crumbled like so
much clay. The owner of the premises happening along was
informed of the discovery, and became so excited that he
ordered Don out of the well and went down himself to see what
he could find. He was of such ample girth that he was like
a cork in th^ nouth of a bottle. Before he could be brought
to the surfac<' again half a dozen men had to be called. The
only way they could get him out was by rigging a derrick and
pulling him up by block and tackle.

;.-,i,ji>.:'.---,J'fll

eectionary.
[)olmaiter't

Etit making
well again,

;n he called

at Don was

rew a num-
pail up and

le he turned
sna goin* to
ye're elected
r added with
lad, (or the

ver which a
e total num-
Being Span-
ey were so
bled like so
ig along was
ited that he
to see what
he was like
be brought
called. The
I derrick and

' .'P f ^,%'*^Bg l iW-q r ''',i« f iPPH' '' - ' *Jy Wf f tl^

AIR OABTLB DON

He w so blown and red when he reached the surface and
was dumped on the grass to recover himself, that Peter look-
ing upon him with a grim peppery satisfaction, muttered to
himself: "Gin the hole had been deeper the auld coof would
ha' broken through in^o the bottomless peet, an' then he would
ha' looked redder than he is now."

When Mr. Pauncefort was able to stand up, being a man
of active suspicions and dormant honor, he looked at Peter
and Don and intimated that they might have found something
of value and concealed it about their persons.

At this Peter shook his fist in the man's face and said in
great anger: "Pll work no more on yon well tho' ye gae
wi'out water thro' a' eternity ;" and he stalked off, followed by
Don, who, though he said nothing, was white with wrath.

Pauncefort attempted to call them back to their work, but
his appeal fell upon deaf ears.

"The mon has no more respect for the ten commandments
than he has for the sermon on the mount," growled Peter, "an*
tliat's why he thinks there's nae bottom to onny body else's
morality an' Chreestianity. In body he's as beeg as puncheon,
but in soul he's as sma' as flea. Gin ye see a mon wha's
always spiren' for faults in ither people, ye may be sure he's
as full o' holes as a sieve."

Don's time was now mainly spent in repairing the little old
sealskin trunk that had long lain in the garret, and in packing
into it his personal belongings preparatory to his rapidly
approaching departure. It was a proud and exciting morning
when he mounted the outside of the stage by the side of the
whip, after having condescendingly received the parting
salutes of the family, and the coach with its full fare of pas-
sengers rolled over the bridge on its way to Argylc.

At the end of the bridge Peter stood with uplifted hand u

^- -i.,A-;f.Ji<fl

rewsm

f:.'

AIR GA8TLB DON

a peremptory sign for the coachman to pull up. The stage
stopped, but the whip protested that he had no room for an
extra passenger.

Nevertheless Peter climbed to the place where Don sat,
and with the utmost deliberation and solemnity said: "Ye
mind, lad, Revelations ten and second, where the angel set his
right foot upon the sea, an' his left foot on the earth? That's
a safe trick for an angel; but na lad like you should try rt on.
Keep baith o' your feet on solid land. When ye're an angel ye
can cut up angels' capers." Mid the laughter of the passeng-
ers, the blushes of Don and the anathemas of the whip, Peter
hobbled down to the road again and watched the coach till it
rolled out of sight.

This was Don's first coach trip and the ride through the
pines and over the barrens, around the head of harbors and by
the foot of lakes filled him with keen delight. At noon he
reached his destination, sorry that his journey was at an end.

"Punctual as the spring swallows," said Tubbins by way of
greeting. A minute afterward Don and his trunk were in his
snug quarters. Having brushed and washed away the dust of
travel he went down to an ample dinner, of which Tubbins
remarked: "It is better than you will average here. We
knew that the piney woods would give you :«n extra appetite,
and so we have put on extra fixings. Everything is in readi-
ness for you at the schoolhouse, and I have cut a fine birch
switch and placed it on the wall behind your desk in full sight."

"I hope that I shall not be obliged to use it," said Don,
who had no stomach for compulsory virtues.

"Hope you will, sir," Tubbins said bluntly. "A school
without a rod is like a church without a Bible ;" and the chief
school committeeman looked at Don and sniffed at him as if
he had detected the odor of heresy in his garments.

',^i-u.^^»iil)■k>iMi!i:Li*-i■■'^&^)^iS^iM

■^'•~r" ' ^ * -t . - "rw^ yr '■ ' * : 'i ^v, ' -' !( '•*

AIB 0A8TLB DON

The stage
oom for an

■e Don sat,
said: "Ye
mgel set his
th? That's
lid try ?t on.
: an angel ye
the passeng-
whip, Peter
: coach till it

through the
irbors and by
At noon he
as at an end.
ins by way oi
k were in his
ly the dust of
hich Tubbins
here. We
xtra appetite,
ig is in readi-
t a fine birch
in full sight."
It," said Don,

"A school
and the chief
id at him as if
Its.

Juvenile nature in Argyle was as timid and gentle as the
lambs on the hillsides, and there was no occasion for the use
of the birch, save once. A raw girl, fifteen years of age, from
the first of Don's appearance became infatuated with him, and
spent most of her time in the school-room in pouring out upon
him from her great, sky-blue eyes a flood of amatory glances.
The young master threatened her with the rod if she did not
look more at her books than at him. The threat proving
unavailing, he called her up before the school and gave her a
couple of taps on the palm of her right hand. They were so
gentle, however, that the girl, regarding them as a favor,
smiled in his very face, and went back to her seat to resume
her looks. The school giggled, and Don relinquished all
attempts to subdue the fervor of her eyes, although they,
instead of conquering him, chilled him like the staring eyes of
a codfish fresh from the deep.

Saturdays were days of freedom and ecstasy. With Tub-
bins' boat at his disposal, Don rowed and drifted among the
hundreds of islands of Argyle Bpv like one roaming in fairy-
land. For change, he would take Tubbins' old white mare and
ride up among the Tusket Lakes, where among the hundred or
more crystal-clear water gems, he would fish and dream to his
heart's content. Like " Tan Pile Jim," he could scarcely feel
the necessity of getting ready for another world when this one
looked so beautiful.

The winter was not so pleasant; the deep snow was diffi-
cult to wade through, and the fierce congealing blasts were
hard to face. His fireless room was like the interior of an
iceberg. At bedtime he buried his head under the ample pile
of quilts, but only to find, when the morning came, that every
opening where his breath had found vent was spangled with
frost-flakes, which, however beautiful, were like jewels set in a

.**l{%*r^

PSjppfip^j^^ipsjIJf^if

86 AIR CASTLE DON

refrigerator. At the schoolhouse, not over tight at best, Jack
Frost played all sorts of pranks notwithstanding the wood
went into the great stove at the rate of a tree a day. Trials
have their uses, and in the absence of outdoor attractions,
teacher and scholars made advances in their work at a gait
that delighted Tubbins.

"I did a good thing for Argyle when I pulled you out of
that well in Barrington," he said to Don one day, after putting
the school through a committee inspection.

"I am glad you think so," Don responded simply, blushing
to hear himself praised.

"Even Milly Hatfield has caught the study fever," said
Tubbins, referring to the girl with the codfish eyes. "That's
because she doesn't worship you as much as she did. I
thought for awhile that we should have to remove her from
school, she looked at you so steadily. Seeing so much of you
has disenchanted her;" and Tubbins chuckled over his own
sapiency.

With the return of the green leaves and the singing birds
Don resumed his voyaging among the islands and his rambles
among the lakes. A great change was taking place in him.
He felt as though he must plume his own wings and take a
flight into the great world. His elder brothers, with the irre-
sistible instincts of Americans, had already gone over to the
States. One was supposed to be in Boston, in an apothecary
shop, and another in the same city making ready for a voyage
around the world in a clipper ship. Another was somewhere
in the interior of Massachusetts taking an academic course of
study; and still another was somewhere in New Hampshire
making his first experiments in preaching, upon a country
congregation.

Seeing the topmasts of a schooner peeping over the tree-

■5.'- ..,,■■;.■, >«■";«> it »S*'*f«>i-v.*i».r!';wi^Si«SSrfl

best, Jack

the wood
ay. Trials
attractions,
k at a gait

you out of

iter putting

ly, blushing

fever," said
es. "That's
she dii. 1
ive her from
much of you
»ver his own

singing birds
i his rambles
ilace in him.
s and take a
ivith the irre-
; over to the
,n apothecary
or a voyage
IS somewhere
mic course of
V Hampshire
3n a country

3ver the tree-

::fFW^ f 0^ '' ^i'f> :*fmw*^w^^

AIB OASTLB DON

tops of one of the harbor islands one Saturday morning, Don
rowed off and boarded her. To his surprise he saw that she
was named The Milly Hatfield, and when he reached the deck
he was still more surprised to learn that the captain was Milly's
father. He soon learned that the captain and his crew were
getting ready for a trip to Boston.

"When do you sail?" Don asked.

"One week from to-day, at eleven sharp, wind and weather
permitting."

"Will you take me for a passenger," said Don, seized with
a sudden inspiration.

"Certainly — half a dozen of you, if you wish ; and you have
done so much in the way of packing Milly's head with common
sense, the trip sha'n't cost you a cent." And the dry old cap-
tain looked at him so quizzically, Don felt as if a package of
needles had been using him for a needle-cushion.

"But I am in earnest."

"So am I."

"Thank you. I'll be on hand ^or the trip,"

"Coming back this way?"

"Of course not."

"Have you received permission from home?"

"No," said Don with emphasis, tossing his head with a
swaggering swing. "I guess I can take care of myself." His
experience in school had puffed his vanity and independence to
a dangerous extent, and he was ready to lock horns with
almost anything in the way of adventure.

"Very well; if you can risk it, I'll do the same; but I hope
you have laid in a good supply of sand and g^rit. Boston isn't
Barrington. you know. And a youngster like you makes a
small showing among the old elephants of a city."

But Don was not to be frightened. On the Friday follow-

j-.-.t^fcajS^teSP'?

'^M

fjtm

wmm

mmm^^r^i^^.

AIR OASTLB DON

■'

\ng Tubbins paid him an even fifty dollars, after deducting his
board.

On Saturday morning he rowed his young boarder out to
the Miliy Hatfield, and found her just at the point of raising
her anchor.

"If the Yankees prove too much for you," said he, "come
back to Argyle and we will give you the school for the next
season. And if you stay here long enough, perhaps Captain
Hatfield will give you his daughter, and throw the vessel in
to boot."

The allusion to Milly almost destroyed the possibility of a
sentimental separation from the jocular Tubbins, and Don
replied with inward ire: "You may be sure that I'll never
come back to Nova Scotia to live; no, not for all the gins and
all the vessels in the province."

"Well, bore's a good-bye to you, and good luck to you
wherever you go," said Tubbins with strong feeling as he went
over the rail and turned his boat to shore.

The Hatfield pulled her anchor to the cathead immediately,
and after disentangling herself from the many islands of
Argyle Bay, pointed her head directly for Boston. If she had
been as big as The Great Eastern, her capacity would have
been inadequate for the cargo of expectations Don carried
secreted under his vest.

Midway the Bay of Fundy the vessel ran into a gale of
wind that raised such a tempestuous sea, Don was turned into
a hive of miniature volcanoes. In the agony of his throes he
thought of Peter Piper's last words, and from the bottom of
his soul wished that instead of putting both feet upon the sea
he had been wise enough to glue them to the land. When
fairer weather returned his spii .is went to the masthead again,
and the horizon once mbre became roseate with youthful hopes
and anticipations.

"-■'l..-'4

l ! " '!l {tr '1 B"?^ T '

noting his

ler out to
of raising

he, "come
r the next
)s Captain
: vessel in

ibility of a
and Don
I'll never

e gins and

ick to you
as he went

nmediately,

islands of

If she had

vould have

)on carried

a gale of
turned into
is throes he

bottom of

pon the sea

nd. When

liead again,

ithful hopes

CHAPTER IV.

« .'- . ■ -;

IN THE CITY OP NOTIONS.

Don's head was packed with points concerning the possi-
bilities of boys. From the parental fountain, from the Sunday
school corner, from the pulpit, and from the pages of divers
books that gave patent recipes for getting on in the world, he
had acquired a stock of principles and examples sufficient to
equip a regiment of boys. Even a bishop had laid his hand
upon his frowzy head of hair and predicted for him success and
distinction. •

By the most approved processes it had been drilled into him
that many a hoy who began his career barefooted had reached
conditions in life in which he was able to wear a different pair
of shoes for every day in the week. It had not occurred to
him that all boys — and girls, too, for that matter, are born bare-
footed. Much less was he aware that in spite of the best foot-
wear no means had yet been devised by which one could
entirely avoid an occasional stubbing of one's toes against
unforseen obstructions. Being so full of the idea of wearing
patent leather shoes and walking on paved streets, there was
not enough room left for him to think of things which might
joggle his understanding and pitch him forward on lines not
in keeping with a strict perpendicular. Fortunate it is for
boys that their hatbands are not measured by their thoughts,
for a hatband several miles in circumference would be an
inconvenient thing to carry on one's head.

(39)

■••si

i^j.';>i>j.>

'Kift'i'l

AIR OASTLB DON

The Hatfield was approaching her destination when the
lookout at the fore shouted: "Land, ho!"

The inexperienced eye could see only three purple spots on
the horizon ahead, but the captain recognized in them the Blue
Hills, and the Wachusetts and the Monadnock mountains.
Presently the whole coastline rose out of the sea like a blue
cloud, and Boston Lighthouse could be seen pencilled dis-
tinctly against the sky. Passing the frowning fortifications of
the harbor the Milly Hatfield dropped her anchor a short dis-
tance from the end of Long Wharf. The dome of the capitol
and the gray shaft of Bunker Hill monument seemed to Don
to be among the wonders of the world. But what most
impressed him was the forest of steeples, for he thought where
there were so many churches there must be few chances for a"
boy like himself to come to harm. >

In the midst of his reflections the customs' officer pulled
alongside and soon after was rummaging his trunk with scant
respect for its contents. Don consoled himself for the dese-
cration by watching him while he performed the same cere-
mony for the personal baggage of the captain and his crew.

"Now thnt you are here," said the captain to Don as soon
as the officer had disappeared, "where are you going to
put up?"

"At Covert's boarding house on North Square," was the
prompt answer. "That is where my brothers put up when
they are here."

"Very good, my lad; then we'll keep each other company;
for that is where I always stay when I am in. port. We will
send our duds up by dray, and walk up ourselves, for as soon
as you set foot within a city, you must tighten the strap around
your pocket book and make a business of seeing how little
money you can spend. Pocket books in a place like this soon

- '•-li&ittl^T^lj^^ 'i

' ^ ,J^»iW [. .WB^<t^Jiit*/!;''' ' - "' ,;»w^ ' fr.w ^ ^^

▲IR 0A8TLB DON

hen the

spots on
tlie Blue
untains.
:e a blue
iUed dis-
:ations of
ihort dis-
le capitol
d to Don
hat most
jht where
nces for a

:er pulled
ivith scant

the dese-
anie cere-
s crew,
m as soon

going to

" was the
up when

company;

We will

>r as soon

[ap around

Ihow little

this soon

become flabby unless you keep the stuiHng in them as long as
you can."

Don thought of his fifty dollars and felt quite sure that it
would be a long time before his wealth could take wings to
itself and fly away.

The most verdant thing in all this world is a lad dropped
from the heart of the country into the heart of a city for the
first time, except, perhaps, the lad who is dropped from the
heart of the city into the heart of the country for the first time.
Don had heard of Boston as The City of Notions, but had
vague ideas as to the origin of the phrase. Now he was sure
that he understood why the words were used; the variety of
buildings, the diversity of the people on the streets, the multi-
tude of things offered for sale, the crookedness of the thor-
oughfares and the lack of uniformity among the vehicles made
it all as plain as day. Later in his experience he enlarged his
understanding.

Ascending a hill, and turning through a narrow dingy-
street they entered a small triangular space which the captain
said was the square for which they were seeking. At the top
of the hill they came to the head of the square, and midway the
block that formed one side of the square they stopped in front
of a comparatively modem red brick four-story house, down
the stoop of which ran a pair of highly polished brass railings.
At the door they were met by a middle-aged man who had a
flaring set of false teeth, a thick shock of black false hair, a pair
of narrow watery eyes and an artificial smile that was a perpet-
ual fixture along the straight lines that answered for lips.

"Hello Hatfield!" exclaimed a thin nasal voice which came
from the top of the nose instead of from the bottom of the
lungs. "I was just thinking of you and bluenose potatoes.
You know you promised to bring me fifty bushels when you

2,4:);,ife**»i-i*M!& •

■r-.i'\XP»:<iiSsiK-^n:^KH>-Ti.':

^„^^^^g*i-'

.-*_ -J :>iv:m JJkJi0f,

■:

■H"

AIR OASTLB DON

came over again. My boarders think there is nothing in the
world like bluenose murphies." And he shook Hatfield by the
hand with the heartiness of an apparent friend.

"The potatoes are on board all right," Hatfield responded,
laughingly, and with a deep sub-bass of a voice that, by con-
trast, made Covert's voice sound like the squeal of a mouse or
the squeak of a door-hinge. "But let me introduce you to
this boy; he's a brother of the Donalds tribe, of whom you
have had four here already. He's out to take a look at the
world, and wants you to take him in for awhile. He's going
to become a millionaire and will stay with you until he can get
his bearings."

"I'm rather particular about my boarders, but I know that
his tribe is a good one, and I'll take him in with pleasure,"
said Covert, extending a hand, the touch of which made Don
feel as if he were shaking an eel that had just been pulled from
a mud-hole. The looks, voice and touch of the man con-
vinced Don off-hand that either the church steeples had failed
to do their duty by him or else had failed to make any
impression upon him.

They were now in the reception room, where they were
met by Mrs. Covert, a short, thick, red-skinned woman, whose
studiously benevolent face seemed to make immediate amends
for her husband's abounding deficiencies. Don thought that
she was certainly the better half of the man, and he immedi-
ately jumped to the conclusion that the only excuse he had for
sharing the premises with her was the fact that he was her
man-of-all-work.

Hatfield began to make inquiries about the Donalds
brothers in the hope that some of them were in the house, or
at least in the vicinity.

"The one who is the first officer of The John Bertram sailed

iF^Bifrr'

AIB CA8TLB DON

: in the
I by the

ponded,
by con-
ouse or

you to
om you
k at the
's going

can get

low that
leasure,"
ade Don
lied from
lan con-
lad failed
lake any

ley were
, whose
amends

ight that
immedi-
had for
was her

Donalds
lOUse, or

am sailed

for China yesterday," said Mrs. Covert. The one that
preaches in New Hampshire, together with the one who is
studying; in Worcester, came down to see him oflf. They left
the city this morning. The one who used to be in the apothe-
cary store on Blackstone street left the city some time ago for
some place in Rhode Island.

Seeing that Don was bitterly disappointed, she immediately
added, with a great show of sympathy: "I hope that you will
not take this news too much to heart. You are rather young
to be so far away from home with nobody to look after you.
I liked your brothers and shall like you. Make our house
your home and consider me and my husband as your friends,
for we will do all we can to make the house pleasant for you
and to help you along."

"And all this for only five dollars a week, with washing and
lights free," squeaked Mr. Covert, with ostentatious bluntness,
and looking at the lad as if estimating his resources and the
amount of squeezing he would bear.

Don thought that this was- a somewhat singular way of
making things pleasant, and he began to make a rapid mental
calculation, the effect of which was by no means reassuring.

"My husband never thinks of anything else besides dollars
and cents," said the woman. "If he were burying me he'd
think more about the dollars it cost than he would about the
dead and lost. I'm not built that way, as the saying is, though
if he were to die, I should immediately begin to look for a man
who was born with a soul in him."

Under this withering attack Mr. Covert, so far from shrink-
ing, only extended his habitual smile up his nose and into a
tenuous laugh that was thinner than the upper notes of a worn-
out singer.

"My wife has so much soul," he squeaked, "that if I were

^:':,',-i-:J;K^

.. I'M

mmmi,

Allt 0A8TLB DON

not here to look after her, her boarders would crowd her into
the almshouse in less than six months. If she were to die I'd
hunt up someone who had sense enough to keep her heart
under lock and key."

A maturer acquaintance with this pair of human oddities
convinced Don that there was a good business understanding
between them notwithstanding the apparent discrepancy
between their dispositions. Mr. Covert made profitable trafHc
in his wife's seeming generosity, while she craftily utilized his
ostentatious meanness. He used her beaming face by way of
attracting customers ; and she used his mercenary spirit by way
of securing prompt payments and limited expenditures.

"Don't take either of them too seriously," said the knowing
Hatfield, when both husband and wife had left the room; "but
keep your eyes peeled for both of them. If you fear the man
too much he'll skin the hide from you, and if you trust the
woman too much, the effect will be about the same. The only
diflference between them is, she rows with one oar on one side
of the boat, and he uses the other one on the other side.
Between the two oars they keep going ahead and manage to
lay up considerable of their boarders' money."

Don spent several days looking about the city and getting
used to the stir and noise of the metropolis of The Old Bay
State. The streets were so crooked that he made short excur-
sions at first, but little by little he acquired a courage which
enabled him to extend his adventures to Boston Common and
the old historic elm tree, which, in view of his acquaintance
with the monarchs of primeval forests looked both dilapidated
and disreputable. And the Frog Pond, with its seven by nine
dimensions carefully bounded by granite curbing, and its shal-
low bottom paved with cobble-stone, and its dirty water kept
from evaporating altogether by the squirtings of a fitful foun-

' .V itf'f^lDHS, ^

''mmnT^'^fw^ywT'^

' mn ' f i v ^ v"

er into
die I'd
r heart

)ddities
landing
•epancy
e traffic
ized his
way of
by way

:nowing
m; "but
the man
rust the
fhe only
one side
er side,
inage to

getting
lid Bay
excur-
which
ion and
iaintance
lapidated
by nine
its shal-
iter kept
tul foun-

AIB OASTLB DON

•* ;*<■.,-. W.J

tain, suffered immensely by comparison with the crystal-clear
waters of the ponds and lakes he was familiar with in the
vicinity of home. The State House on the hill caused him to
remove his hat while he wandered to and fro among the cor-
ridors, but The Old State House at the head of State street,
notwithstanding its colonial associations, failed to gain from
him more than a passing contemptuous glance. The Old
South Church, and The Brattle Street Church, with its osten-
tatious cannon ball sticking like a black punctuation point
among the drab-painted brick were grievous disappointments.
Later, however, when his Boston tastes were more generally
and intelligently developed he swore by the old landmarks with
all the enthusiasm of one to the manor born, for there is
nothing like education for the multiplication of exclamation
points in one's every day life.

Hearing of The Maeonion as the place where Theodore
Parker, the most distinguished preacher of Boston preached,
he went out to see it. When he came out of the building his
nose pointed the wrong way, and before he knew it he was
walking among green fields in Roxbury. He was badly lost.
If it had been a case of being lost in the woods of the primitive
wilderness of the government lands in Nova Scotia, he would
have turned around three times to the right, and three times
to the left, and then with three sumersaults to finish the cere-
mony, he would have started on a bee line for home as surely
as if he were guided by the north star or a pocket compass.
But he did not dare to cut up any such capers as this among
the people who were passing. Seeing the Old South steeple
in the distance, he steered a straight course for that, and by
good luck reached his boarding house in time for supper.

"What did you do when you discovered you were lost?"
asked one of the boarders.

'^T'Wdi

;.«v&-if^S^

«iwipiiiiii|«inpp

mrmrm^ ^ i »| j i m^ i n

AIR 0A8TLB DON

"I hailed the first good looking man I met and requested
him to tell me the way to Mr. Covert's house." Don could
not quite understand why the table broke into such violent
laughter .it hi» answer.

"What did he say?" inquired Covert, whose smile had more
semblance of genuineness than it had shown for many a day.

"He didn't say anything, but looked at me in a puzzled way
and then hurried on. He must have been a deaf and dumb
man."

The laugh broke out afresh, and Don began to get red and
angry.

"The next time you get lost," said Covert, "ask the way to
North Square. Although this square is respectable enough in
itself, it is at the head of Ann street — the worst street in the
city; and everybody knows where the worst street is, just as
every man knows his neighbor's worst points."

"Your own bad points are so conspicuously prominent that
no one needs be at the trouble of hunting for them," s." Mrs.
Covert, slyly.

"Of course not," Covert retorted, with seeming anger. "I
wasn't cut out for an angel, as you were."

The boarders had become so accustomed to these false
sword thrusts that they took no notice of them, except to put
themselves on guard against any fresh demands the two might
combine to make upon them.

The boarders consisted of fifteen men and nine ladies.
The first time Don took his seat at dinner he thought that the
ladies were the most wonderfully and fearfully arranged affairs
that were ever created. And he tried to imagine the excite-
ment that their appearance would make in a place like Barring-
ton. It was the first time he had ever seen the sex in all the
glory of widely expanded hoops, elaborately shirred waists,

to;-

.niif m m » i jn i i>ifi i n)^ > i

AIB 0A8TLB DON

uested

could

iriolent

1 more

a day.

ed way

dumb

'cd and

way to

jugh in

: in the

just as

ent that
• Mrs.

iff.

ise false

|t to put

might

ladies.
Ithat the
affairs
excite-
larring-
all the
waists,

and innumerable soap curls arranged around the upper coun-
tenance like a semi-circle of scroll-work. The rings of their
fingers made him think that there must also be bells on their
toes.

The lady who sat at his right hand was passably comely,
but aided by the fashions she was celestially beautiful. She
had the manners of a young girl and he fell violently in love
with her and worshipped her for a week. He cultivated the
curls on his own head and contemplated making material
improvements in his own wardrobe during that time. At the
end of the week, in answer to a fatal inquiry, Mrs. Covert said:

"Miss Arabella Agincourt is of good family, and has some
means, but she is between thirty and forty, has man-made teeth
and a very unsuccessful way of besieging the affections of men.
She has tried each one of your brothers, but without favorable
results. What her object is in dallying with you is more than
I can conjecture. She may possibly thin' that by lavishing
her kindness upon you she may regain ilie chance to hook
some one of your brothers. She is very anxious to become a
sea captain's wife and has made desperate attempts to capture
your eldest brother. I shall not say anything against her, for
she will make a most excellent old maid."

This drastic dose ended Don's illusions and set him to
thinking about more serious things. He determined to visit
his clerical brother and get his advice as to what his course
should be. He had never travelled by railway and when he
took his seat in a car for the first time his sensations were
novel. While wondering how any power on earth could draw
after it such a palace-like vehicle, the train started. It was his
impression that an earthquake had taken it in tow, and when
the speed increased to an express rate, he was quite sure that
the first earthquake had been reinforced by another. He sat

I ..y. >'8v''*^.«u»iWW-i«'^'

•I'lii'lUi 'ii'iVl'.'-r-til

nppp^^wflp

AIR CASTLE DON

:.'

bolt upright and held on to the seat in front of him. The
screeching of the whistle at every road-crossing was a gjreater
mystery than he had ever heard preached from the pulpit, and
vr.st'y more trying to the nerves. Observing that the other
passengers evinced no alarm, he slackened his strained muscles
and, after a little, ventured to take snap-glances at the whirling
landscape. ^

On arriving at the scattered hamlet of Puddlewit, in New
Hampshire, he asked the station agent, who aped the manners
of a major general and spoke the language of an ignoramus,
to direct him to the house where his brother — giving his name
— ^was staying.

"Rev. Donalds haint stayin' nowheres in this place at pres-
ent," was the curt and impatient reply. And then, for a
wonder, he voluntarily expended a little more breath in add-
ing: "From what I hear, he won't come back here no more.
He's such a shadow of a fellow, it's a wonder he can stay any-
wheres long enough for anybody to make out the shape of his
body. If you're gonter chase him about, you'd better straddle
the wires and send yourself along by elfectricity. If you want
to get back to where you came from, the train will be along in
two hours fro'.n now."

Don was so hurt at heart, and withal so angered at the
agent's boorishness, he turned his back on him and began to
pace the platform. A passing farmer seeing his restlessness
and woe-begone appearance, spoke kindly to him, and after
melting him into a communicative mood, insisted upon taking
him home to dinner.

"I'm a deacon in the church to which your brother
pleached," he said at the dinner table, "and he left word with
me to forward his mail to Logville, Maine. We liked him
well, but a bigger church got hold of him and pulled him away

'W^

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AIB CASTLE DON

im. The
a greater
ulpit, and
the other
d muscles
; whirling

t, in New
; manners
fnoramus,
; his name

:e at pres-
len, for a
th in add-
; no more.
I stay any-
lape of his
er straddle
you want
e along in

Ired at the
began to

lestlessness
and after
lon taking

ir brother

Iword with

liked him

him away

from us. It is ail right, however; if a minister does not look
after his own pie and pudding, no one else will do it for him.
'Covet earnestly the best gifts' is what the Bible says; and I
suppose that the rule is intended to work for the benefit of the
ministers as well as for the benefit of the churches."

The good man pressed Don to spend the night with him,
saying: "It will give you a chance to look over the country,
which your brother said was as pretty a bit of scenery as God
ever decorated the earth willi. He rambled about here a good
deal and made use ot the things he saw in such a way in the
pulpit that we had to keep our own eyes open to see what was
going to come next. Most of the preachers we have had here
gave us such common things in such a common way that I
have wondered why the patent medicine men have not bottled
them up and advertised them for sleep-producing remedies, to
be taken just before going to bed."

Don returned to Boston on the next train, and the follow-
ing day went to Worcester in search of his brother, but only
to learn that he had removed to a distant field to take charge
of an academy.

Seeing that the stranger lad was much cast down by this
intelligence, the principal sympathetically drew from him some
account of his desires and purposes, and, in the end urged him
to enter the school, assuring him that he could easily And work
enough to provide for his board, while the tuition fees might
remain a debt until such times as he was able to pay it.

Although strongly inclined to accept the offer, Don, on
second thought, revolted against the idea of putting a mort-
gage on his future. "Pay as you go" was a cherished rule,
and he' determined not to become divorceil from it.

Thanking the kind principal for his generous interest in a
total stranger, Don turned his back upon the attractive build-
ings and beautiful grounds and returned to Boston.

:^mmii

TPf

tmw

CHAPTER V.

AN ATTIC PHILOSOPHER.

Don's resources were rapidly dwindling. It became neces-
sary for him to reduce his expenses and to procure employ-
ment. Believing in doing one thing at a time, the first thing
he did was to consult with Mrs. Covert concerning a lower rate
of board, which he thought he could obtain by taking a smaller
and less advantageous room.

"Of course," said Mrs. Covert cautiously, " if you are get-
ting out of money, you must fit your outlay to your
necessities."

"In other words," interrupted her husband, "five dollars is
our lowest rate, and if you are not able to pay that amount, you
must make way for those who can. We do no business for
charity."

Such brutal business bluntness as this turned Don into an
icicle so far as further confidences were concerned, and he left
the house without a word. In less than half an hour he had
contracted to board with Widow Williams, on the same square,
for two dollars a week. His accommodations included an
attic room and two meals a day.

"When it is more convenient for me, I will take dinner,
also," he said, while making his terms. But by a harmless
prevarication he concealed his intention of going without his
dinner until such times as his finances would allow of his
engaging full board, and he did it with such an air 'of genuine
independence that the widow had no suspicion of the truth.

(50)

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'PWJW

: neces-
itnploy-
st thing
wer rate
. smaller

are get-
to your

lollars is
>unt, you
iness for

t into an
d he left
he had
square,
uded an

dinner,
larmless
lout his
V of his
genuine
ruth.

AIR 0A8TLB DON

Shouldering his trunk with more of triumph than of humil-
iation, he crossed the Square and mounted to his attic. Nor
did the limitations of his quarters diminish from the elasticity
of his spirits; he had taken the bull by the horns and consid-
ered himself master of the situation, such as it was. The
Wellington of Waterloo could not have experienced any
higher satisfaction.

The attic had but one window which commanded a lone-
some view of a wilderness of monotonous slate roofs and chim-
neys. The room was barely high enough for him to stand
upright in, and the furnishings consisted of a single bed, a
wash-stand, a lone wooden chair, and a faded piece of carpet
placed in front of the bed.

Being neat and scrupulously clean himself, he was glad to
notice that, although the paint of the room was battered and
worn, the bed and the floor were neat and clean.

"Well," he said, after surveying his surroundings, "I am
nearer Heaven than I have ever been before; that's one satis-
faction. I'll just imagine that I am a crow swinging in the top
of a Nova Scotian pine. The next thing in order is for me to
get something to do, so that I can put myself in the way of
moving a little lower down in the direction < >f a room that has
four good square walls. That low place under the eave looks
as if it were an invitation to mice, and, possibly, to rats. And
now I wonder what sort of people I have fallen among this
time."

His curiosity was soon to be satisfied. Mrs. Williams was
the relict of a sea captain, who lost his life upon the coast of
Madagascar. Although he had been dead several years-, she
was still wearing mourning. She owned, the house in which
she lived, and was trying to retain it by keeping boarders on a
small scale. She was tall and thin, with a pale face that bore

.»
^

"Ul

AIR CASTLE DON

marks of struggle and anxiety, which, however, did not efface
the signs of refinement and sweetness which seemed to dom-
inate her features and her manners.

After Don had taken possession of his attic, he went down
to the sitting room, where Mrs. Williams introduced him to
her only daughter, Leonora, a rather petite, pretty brunette of
eleven years.

"I hope you will be good friends," said the widow to Don,
"though I must forewarn you that she is an incorrigible bunch
of mischief. Besides her, I have a son who is about your age,
as I should judge — an only son between whom and you there
is a very striking resemblance. Bert is rather old-seeming
for one so young, but for that very reason he is a great help
and comfort to me. He'll be glad when he learns that I have
taken a boy-boarder, though possibly, he may undertake to
oversee you as he tries to oversee Nora, here."

"He's an awful boy, and will wind you around his finger
like a piece of thread unless you are as spunky as I am," Nora
volunteered to say, while her eyes showed that she was indulg-
ing in a bit of precocious slander against her brother, just for
the fun of the thing.

"I am very fond of awful boys," replied Don, solemnly;
"and I suppose it's because I am such an awful boy myself."

Nora looked at him keenly, and seeing the latent mischief
in his eyes, broke into a ripple of musical laughter. "I think
you will do," she remarked with candid indefiniteness. "Bert
will find his mate when he comes home to-night and begins to
get acquainted with you."

"Do you think that there will be a fipfht?" asked Don, with
comic seriousness.

"Yes; just such a one as we are having."

"Then no harm will come to either of us; for I am sure

■■

V'^y,^g?'^ ja.'« '' f .. ' W 'gigj.'ii H^ y i^y ■■■■^r^i;'

'^Rg!^'

TJ^-^Wf^l

AIB 0A8TLB DON

t efface
o dom-

it down

him to

nette of

to Don,
e bunch
}ur age,
)u there
seeming
eat help
t I have
rtake to

is finger

I," Nora

indulg-

just for

)lemnly;
myself."
mischief
I think
"Bert
egins to

on, with

am sure

that you are treating me very kindly, and that, of course makes
me feel friendly toward you.

The mother seemed to enjoy the juvenile blade-testing that
was going on in her presence. It was plain that she took a
motherly pride in her children, and was not given to drawing
the string of the youthful bow too tightly. It was also evident
that Don's self possession and general manner gave her a good
impression of him. This impression was deepened when he
voluntarily gave a short account of himself — how he came to
be in the city, and how he happened to make application to
her for boarding. Nora listened to him seriously, as he told
his brief story, and once or twice almost cried as he told of his
disappointments and perplexities.

On going back to his attic, Don congratulated himself
upon being in a house that had two young people in it, and
especially upon having a landlady who appeared to possess a
soul. While he was leaning with both arnjs upon the window-
sill, and with his face turned pathetically up to the blue sky —
for he was thinking of home->-there was a sharp rap at the
door.

On opening the door he stood face to face with one who,
in size, age, complexion, features and entire appearance, wa"
the very picture of himself. But for the more stylish clothing
he would have thought that he was seeing himself in a mirror.
He recalled Mrs. Williams' remark, but was scarcely prepared
to look upon his double.

"I beg your pardon," said the visitor, "I am Bert Williams.
My mother has just told me about you, and Nora gave such a
rosy account of you, and both said we looked so much alike,
I came up without ceremony to tell you that I am glad that
there is another boy in the house."

"Thank you," Don responded cordially; "come in and take

•K^.-J-'^isi*?'?

AIR 0A8TLB DON

a seat," and he handed to him the lone chair with such precise
politeness, and withal with such a gleam of unmistakable
humor that Bert laughed outright. His amusement was
increased when Don, taking his seat upon the edge of the bed,
added, "please excuse me for occupying the sofa."

Bert thought to himself: "It is as Nora says, 'This coun-
try chap is nobody's fool.' " Then giving way to a sudden
apologetic impulse he said: "It may give you some satisfac-
tion to know that I am an attic boy myself — I occupy the one
on the other side of the house ; for the fact is, that in order to
keep our heads above water we are compelled to give the best
rooms in the house to the boarders who can pay for them."

"I am glad to have you for a neighbor," Don replied sin-
cerely, "A pair of attic boys ought to get along together
nicely. I'd rather be a boy in an attic than an old man in a
palace."

"So would I ; but I'd hate to live in an attic till I became
an old man. Old people ought to have the best that goes.
There's mother, for instance — if I thought that she would have
to live in my attic when she got old— -or in a place that was no
better than that, I'd do something desperate to prevent it."

At this moment the supper-bell rang and the two went
down together feeling as if they had known each other for
years. Mrs. William and Nora exchanged glances of satisfac-
tion when they observed how respectfully attentive Bert was to
the newcomer. The boarders — seven men and four women —
all of the commonest class — ^took little notice of the stranger.
Their own incessant struggle for existence and for the most
ordinary necessities of life made them comparatively indiffer-
ent to the existence of others. They were moving along on
that dead level where people seldom become very bad or very
good, and where they are content — after a sort — ^if they can
manage to make both ends meet.

f*JU«f»iJF 5"

precise
itakable
!nt was
the bed,

is coun-
sudden
satisfac-
the one
Drder to
the best
em.

lied sin-
ogether
lan in a

became

It goes.

lid have

was no

it."

o went
ler for
atisfac-
was to
)men —
ranger.
le most
ndiffer-
ong on
or very
ley can

nwsr?^

' »-/ '7-"y"^'«— «-»^7

^T'*7*'^ir'^**^r*^''^ ^^TT'"

r ' ^•^rr'-^r ^ rr^j^

AIR 0A8TLB DON

After tea Bert invited Don into what he called his hole
under the roof. It was very much like Don's attic except that
it had two windows which looked down upon the Square and
over the pavement to the Mariner's House opposite. There
were two chairs in the room, which, upon the whole, was fur-
nished slightly better than Don's quarters. But what attracted
Don's attention more than anything else was a little library of
about two hundred and fifty books, that appeared to be nicely
bound, and to be made up of authors of national and general
fame.

Seeing that his visitor was interested in the books, Bert
said: "They didn't cost me a cent, and they are a queer lot.
I am a sprt of boy of all work in Ticknor and Field's Old
Comer Book Store, up on Washington street. It's the fun-
niest old shanty you ever saw. They say it was built when
the cows went to pasture up in that part of the city — in the
times when the Puritans talked religion through their noses
all day and went about looking like scarecrows. That was
before they had the Boston Tea Party we have heard so much
about. Well, I get only five dollars a week, and, of course,
can't afford to buy books. But ever> book that gets bound
wrong end foremost — ^with the beginning in the middle, or the
end at the beginning, or boltom-side up, or mixed up generally
— ^as if the binders or the printers had been on a big drunk —
every book of this kind is given to me. Those that I want to
read I can easily piece together enough to get the hang of
them and those I find too dull to read, I let stand on their
heads to their hearts* content. So it doesn't matter whether
the books are bound right or wrong, so long as I can manage
to get out of them all that I care to get.

"That Old Comer Bookstore, by the way, has more big
literary customers and visitors than any other store in the

-V^. 1 J:i-^.,T« -A-ltJ'^"!^,-''

«wp"f """ii.'.iwr^

r ' m ii '-^^r ^'^^y ^l^f .p p n^i ' U gy ^ *'

▲IR CASTLE DON

United States; and they come there so often that they talk to
me as if I were the son of every one of them. These books,"
pointing to a number that stood by themselves, "were given
to me by the persons who wrote them.

"Mr. Lowell made me a present of his Bigelow Papers —
and there are piles and piles of fun in them. Doctor Holmes
gave me that Breakfast Table book, and his Wonderful One
Hoss Shay is the greatest rib-tickler I ever got hold of. Mr.
Thoreau, though he is such a farmer-like oddity, gave me that
Life in the Woods. I get lost in that sometimes, it carries me
so far away from the city. Longfellow and Whittier gave me
those volumes of poems, and when I am a head taller I shall
probably prize them, even more than I do now. That tall
Emerson and little Whipple gave me their Essays, but they
are like boxes of raisins, you can't eat much of them at one
time. Big Bayard Taylor gave me the Travels, and you can
see for yourself that they have been pretty well thumbed.
Grace Greenwood and John G. Saxe gfave me that volume of
funny poems, and that Haps and Mishaps — and they are down-
right good, too. And the rest, that you see there by them-
selves, were also given to me by the persons who wrote them
— I've got all their autographs in the books and when I am
old enough, I suppose I shall be mighty proud of them.

It is big fun to be in a store where such chaps meet almost
every week. If you keep your ears open, you hear some funny
things, for they joke one another like a lot of boys just out of
school — ^but you have to keep a sharp lookout for their fine
points, for it is as easy to lose them as it is to lose a fine
needle." Bert ran on not boastfully, but by way of entertain-
ing his visitor, as he tried to explain.

Don looked at the boy with growing admiration and
expressed his opinion by saying: "Well, if you do live in an

-m

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Ain OASTLB DON

talk to
books,"
e given

apers —
Elolmes
'ul One
if. Mr.
me that
Ties me
^ave me
I shall
hat tall
lut they
I at one
you can
lumbed.
lume of
e down-
them-
te them
I am

almost
funny
out of

eir fine
a fine

tertain-

m and
in an

attic, you are on the ground floor so far as books and authors
are concerned, and that ought to be a great inspiration to you."

"Inspiration to what?" asked Bert pertinently.

"To reading and all that sort of thing, you know."

"Bert laughed as he said: "If you were in a grocery store
and should be inspired to eat the candies and other goodies
your inspiration would be likely to get into trouble. Not so
much on account of the value of the stuff you ate as on account
of the business you neglect. Ticknor and Field are kind old
chaps, but if you got to being too much inspired among their
books, they'd bounce you in a minute. You are there to look
after their business and if you didn't attend to it, they'd make
it their business to know the reason why, and that mighty
quick, too. They are up there on that old corner to make
money; and even if their writers and the big book-bugs didn't
make dollars and cents for them they'd get swept out of the
way like so much old paper rubbish. That's the way the world
wags in the city, and I guess it wags the same way in the
country. It's got so here that Onless a preacher fills his pews
and draws in holy money, his religion goes for nothing.
People are measured by what you can squeeze out of them and
not by what you can squeeze into them."

Don began to see that this city boy was a good deal sharper
than himself; the rush of life and the pressure of competition
had forced him to sink his foundations down to hardpan.
There wasn't much balloon or cloud stuff in his make-up. He
said to him : "You talk as if you were fifty years old. Do all
Boston boys talk that way?"

"You have to be pretty old to get along here; but I'll admit
that there are lunies here as well as elsewhere who do nothing
but sail among the clouds."

Don thought of Peter Piper, and he told Bert about him,

»jfMMI»

AIR CASTLE DON

and quoted some of his sayings, winding up, however, with the
information that the old fellow was, in spite of his worldly
wisdom, as poor as some of the*people he saw on the streets
of Boston.

"He was so long getting hold of his wisdom that it prob-
ably came too late to do him any good except in the way of
giving it to others," said Bert, half shutting one eye before he
ventured to hint at the solution of the mystery of useless
knowledge and experience. "And the trouble with most of
us youngsters is, we are unwilling to profit by others' experi-
ences. We flounder into the stream at the risk of drowning
when we might go safely and dry shod over the bridge that's
been built for our benefit. Next to the old fool who never
profits by experience is the young fool who never profits by
advice."

The boys spent the evening together, and when Don rose
to go to his own attic, Bert, placing his hand upon his shoulder
said, earnestly: "I like you, Don Donalds. When you want
any of my books or anything else I have got, come in and help
yourself. I think that you have been a reader. If you happen
to get hold of any of the upside-down, or middle-at-the-begin-
ning fellows, it will be good fun for you to guesu how they
ought to go. If you don't want to take the trouble of hunting
up the connections, you can read right straight along, and in
that way you will hit more funny things than you can imagine.
If you want to see the fun that's going on in the square, there's
a window for each of us; come in whenever you want to look
out."

When Don went back to his attic he saw something that
was a source of great pleasure to him. The fragment of faded
carpet had been removed and a much larger and brighter piece
substituted for it. In the middle of the carpet stood a neat

AIR OABTLB DON

little table with places in it for odds and ends. The lighted
lamp stood in the center of a pretty snow-white mat, and by
the side of the table stood a very comfortable rocking-chair
with a clean tidy fastened by new blue ribbons. On one of the
upright walls were two framed prints which pleased Don as
much as anything. He was so charmed with the changes
wrought by these additions, that he went back to Eert, and
begged him to return his visit forthwith.

Smiling, yet embarrassed, Bert said in reply to Don's
expressions of pleasure: "Mother, Nora and I put our heads
together after tea to see what we could find to add to your
furniture and fixings. TIrtc was little we could get, but the
place looks better than it did before. One reason why I kept
talking to you at the rate I did while you were in my room,
was to give mother and Nora a chance to finish what they were
doing here. Now, if you will take some of my books and
place them upon your table, you can imagine yourself a garret
genius or anything else you please."

"I am very thankful for the trouble you have taken," Don
said gratefully, "but I hope that you have not put yourselves
out in putting these extras in here. When the Coverts turned
me out this morning, I began to think that the Boston steeples
had missed their mission, but now that you have taken me in
and conspired so thoughtfully for my comfort, I shall think
better of the steeples."

"Don't trust too much in steeples," Bert replied, somewhat
bitterly, "they point themselves so high that they miss the
most of what is really going on in the world. I sometimes
think that they have as little influence over things below as
they do over the sun, moon and stars above. If you've got
money, the church is a good place to get into; if you haven't,
it's a capital place to keep out of. My mother is a good

i r 'vfv

Ain OASTLR DON

woman, if there ever was one, aid she is a member of the
church, hut as she is poor, it's jireciotis little notice she gets
from the steeples. Perhaps I ought not to speak in this way.
It's more than likely that I am soured on the churches, and
when one sours on anything, he's as unreasonable as a balky
horse."

"Seeing that your mother is a church-woman, I shall con-
tinue to think well of the steeples; if we cannot depend upon
them, what can we depend on?"

'.■■'••■"*■

I
r
a
b
c
s
a

■■■■■■EniMPii

r of the
she gets
his way.
hes, and
a balky

hall con-
nd upon

CHAPTER VI.

LOOKINCi POR A SITUATION.

"You will find this hunting for a situation a pretty tough
business," said Ucrt to Don, the next morning, when the latter
started with Iiim on the way to the Old Book Store, intending
from that point to begin his explorations for employment. "I
am I3oston born and have lived here all my days, but I never
knew what a nobody I was until I began to hunt for work and
a chance to live. In the first place, everybody wants you to
have a character that is as long as the Ten Commandments,
and juiit as plainly written by some Moses, or some one equal
to him. Then, in addition, you must be sharp enough to take
all the advantage you can, and have no one take advantage of
you. Besides, they'll require that you should reside with your
parents or some relatives who will keep a constant sharp-stick
watch over you every hour that you are not on duty. Most of
them want you to work for nothing during the first six months,
or the first year. When they begin to pay you anything, the
amount is so small it almost needs a microscope to find it.
If you go into anything in the shape of a store, you must have
both the manners and the dress of a young gentleman, and
must act as old and be as patient as an old gentleman of fifty,
and yet be ready to be pulled and hauled about as if you were
born a slave. You can't count on sympathy nor anything else
of that sort. I thought I had a trump card when I first
started out, and told people that my mother was a poor widow,
and that I was an only son who was trying to help her along;

(6i)

wmsmw^'

AIR CASTLE DON

it didn't count any more than so much blank pasteboard. Of
course there are exceptions, otherwise I should not have had
any show at all. After awhile I happened to hit my present
employers, and they have done the square thing for me right
along, though they have made me toe the mark for all I was
worth."

"You are giving me a pretty black picture," said Don, with
a feeling of dismay.

"It's black enough, but not very pretty," Bert replied
laughingly. "It is better to know the truth from the begin-
ning, for most of us boys have such big expectations that it
is best to give them a bit of a tumble from the start. We can
then go about our business as if we were on a hunt through
Africa, and when the pull comes, instead of whining like
babies, we can pull all the harder. You stand as good a chance
to stumble upon a decent place as I did. Of course you have
got certificates of character with you, signed by your minister
and the justice of the peace, and the doctor and the rest of the
big bugs?"

"Not a certificate," Don replied blankly. "I never thought
of such a thing. I wanted to come to Boston, and so I came
at the first opportunity."

"You must be awful green in some things!" Bert
exclaimed, forcibly and bluntly. "What did you do before you
came here?"

"I taught school."

"Taught school — a youngster like you! Well, that knocks
me to pieces. Then you must kncfw something, and must
know how to write a good hand. That's two things that any-
body can satisfy himself about. People here are great en
faces, and perhaps they'll take your face for a certificate of
character, just as I did from the start. North Square isn't the

«w

mmm

.^^■^&i,umm&::%.i

■■^TWr

AIB OASTLB DON

)oard. Of
t have had
ny present
r me right
r all I was

Don, with

ert replied
the begin-
ons that it
t. We can
nt through
lining like
)d a chance
e you have
ur minister
rest of the

rer thought
so I came

gs!" Bert
before you

best place in the world to hail from as a boarding place, yet
if anybody goes to prying into our family affairs, I think we
can stand all the light they can bring. But here I am, at my
place of business. You can go up to the Common and ramble
around till about nine o'clock; it will give you time to think
and to harden up your skin. When you begin your search,
go at it with an iron-clad determination. And if your heart
takes a notion to sink, prop it up with stiff timber, and remem-
ber that there are lots and lots of boys in a worse fix than you
are, and they are not all bad boys, either." And with this
queer jumble of discouragement and encouragement, Bert
turned the key in the door and disappeared. Wl.^n he went
home to his dinner, he asked Nora if Don had got home.

"No," said Nora," he hasn't had time to get his dinner yet.
He doesn't get here till about two o'clock."

A sudden suspicion flashed through Bert's head; he
believed that Don went without his dinner. He looked his
worry so plainly that Nora asked him what the matter was.

"Oh, nothing, sweet," he replied quickly, knowing that if
Don was keeping a secret it would be treason for him to whis-
per his suspicions to either Nora or his mother. But during
the whole afternoon there were wrinkles between his eyes —
wrinkles of deep thought.

When he came home at night and found Don in the attic,
a single glance at his face revealed the futility of the day's
search. Yet Don received him with a cordial smile.

"Haven't hit anything yet?" he asked, explicitly.

"Nor come within a thousand miles of anything, though I
have been firing myself into every place I could get into
decently. In most of the places I got fired out as quickly as
I got in."

"Going at it again to-morrow?"

I-S

mmimmsm

...v..

■"K-"'-?'"' 'V " "' '■ ■'■''■''"i'P* "■.t,'=^ ■;'• "* '•. *' *'?7"-'

■ '.'"'-^■"i-'K-.'^-y*;''

•T?^^,^s^n5^"^1P^"'?K:

AIll CASTLE DON

W-

"Of course! One has to learn how to shoot before he can
hit any mark. I'm learning, and that's one consolation."

"Shoulder aches a bit from the kick of the gun, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes, a little bit; but that's nothing."

"Well, you've got pluck if you are a little green," said Bert,
beginning to laugh in response to the mirth he saw in Don's
eyes, a mirth which he knew was provoked by the grim cate-
chism to which he was subjected. "Keep that sort of thing
up and you'll come out somewhere, yet."

"Yes; out at the elbows, and out at the toes," Don said,
doggedly. "And out of Boston, too," he added, after a pause.

"But didn't you get so much as a nibble?" persisted Bert.

"Yes, I got two; but when they asked for my certificate of
character, and where and with whom I lived, my face wouldn't
pass for a cent, and so I passed out as I went in."

Bert was silent and troubled at this, for it was as he feared
it would be. "Well," he said at length, "there's no use in
nursing trouble. Shake oflf this day and get ready for another.
And, by the way, why can't you write home and get somebody
to fit you to a recommendation. It may be of use yet. Cer-
tificates of character are of course puffy things, but like swim-
ming bladders or cork, they sometimes help one to keep on
top of the water till he can strike out for himself."

Don said he would write and get a whole battery of certifi-
cates; and he wrote accordingly.

But the times were dull, boys were thick, the unemployed
innumerable, and business men as touchy and as short as if
applicants were as pronounced intruders in the world as bottle-
flies are in a domestic establishment.

Ten days passed away, and although Don was indefatigable
in his efforts he was apparently no nearer success than the first
day he started out on his weary round. Most of the posted

Pippppflf!^^

AIR OASTLB DON

>re he can
ation."
oesn't it?"

said Bert,

in Don's

frirn cate-

: of thing

Don said,
r a pause.
5ted Bert,
tificate of
wouldn't

he feared
lo use in
• another,
omebody
et. Cer-
ke swim-
keep on

of certifi-

;mployed
lort as if
as bottle-

:fatigable
I the first
le posted

notices, and a large proportion of the advertisements answered
were but the disguises worn by unadulterated meanness — ^baits
of men who were planning to secure slaves that would do their
work with'.^'Mt cost.

Every evening Bert would call upon Don to report, and his
company and persistent encouragements did much to keep
Don's spirits up.

One evening Don began his usual report by saying:
"Well, I have made a big dash this afternoon."

Bert at once became much excited, and pressed for a full
explanation.

"I had about made up my mind that I was tired of running
around this town like a beggar, when, at the bottom of the
Square I saw a notice that a boy was wanted to ship on board a
vessel bound for Japan. I went in and after talking with the
man who keeps the place, agreed to sign the papers
to-morrow."

Bert flushed with excitement, and said almost angrily:
"But you will do no such tiling. That place is the beginning
of perdition to nearly all who step across the sill. It is kept
by a land-shark which is the meanest and the most cruel of all
the sharks that swim the sea or roam the land. Perhaps you
don't know what a land-shark is. I'll tell you: It is a man
who tells you that he has got a nice fat thing for you; a chance
to see the world on a fine ship, and all that sort of thing. He
.promises to fit you out w h a sea-rig and everything else you
need, and to advance you money besides. When you have
signed the papers and begin to find out things, you wili dis-
cover that for your rig and your advance money he has shipped
you before the mast and taken a mortgage on your wages
from the time you leave port till the time you get into port
again. When you get to sea you'll be kicked about by brutes

AIR CASTLE DON

*'5f*

%
It-

till you become a brute yourself. If you live to get back again
you'll be landed without a cent. Then they'll take you to some
low doggery and keep at you till you are forced to ship again
under the same conditions. And so they keep it up indefin-
itely, unless by some special good chance you escape from
their clutches I know the scoundrel who wants to take you
in, and if my inother was not such a good woman I'd swear at
you hot and heavy for being deceived by such a dog-livered
funk as that."

Don had listened to the sugary words of the land-shark,
but had no knowledge or intimation of what lay back of the
apparently considerate and friendly oflfers of the unscrupulous
schemer, who intended to sell him soul and body. Bert's hot
words opened his eyes, and he became alarmed.

"Well," said he desperately, "I have passed my word, and
that is something I have never gone back on yet."

"Passed it for what?" Bert exclaimed indignantly. "Did
you see the papers? Did the fellow give you any hint of the
coiiditions of the bargain? Don't say a word to me yet," he
added, as he saw that Don was about to speak. "Come with
me and see how quickly I'll straighten this thing out, and con-
vince you that if a man promises to send you straight to the
New Jerusalem that is no reason why you should allow him to
put a rope around your neck that will drag you to the other
place by express.

Don followed him across the Square to the Mariner's
House, whicli was supported by a religious association, and
kept by a religious superintendent in the interest of men who
followed the sea.

As soon as they entered the office, Bert, addressing a good
looking man. sairl : "Mr. Truesdale, I want you to go with us

'Ig ^lfmyv i f^jrffi ' vm ' "v, "0i,i w - -^

AIR CASTLE DON

•ack again
lu to some
ihip again
p indefin-
:ape from
take you
1 swear at
3g-Iivered

nd-shark,
ck of the
:rupulous
Bert's hot

vord, and

ly. "Did
int of the
f yet," he

me with
and con-
ht to the
him to

le other

lariner's
ion, and
len who

a good
with us

to Lammel's den. He's trying to lay one of his old tricks
on my friend, Don Donalds."

This intimation was sufficient, con. ig as it did from a lad
with whom the superintendent was Wv II acquainted, and he
immediately followed them. On the way Bert informed him
of what had taken place between Don and the land-shark, and
also of what Don had said about keeping his word. When
they filtered the den, Lammels quailed. Nor was he much
assured when the superintendent said:

"You have been making one of your bargains with this
boy," pointing to Don. "Let me have the papers, please."

Lammels knew the extent of Truesdale's authority, and
passed the papers to the superintendent who, notwithstanding
the evil scowls of the schemer, read them to Don from begin-
ning to end.

"When you said that you would sign the shipping papers
to-morrow, did you mean that you would sign such papers as
these?" asked the superintendent, turning to Don.

"No, sir," was the emphatic answer. "He said he would
fill in the blanks and have the papers ready for me to sign in
the morning."

"But he would have gotten your signature without reading
to you the terms of the contract. Are you willing to sign nov»
that you know what the conditions are?"

"No, sir," said Don, more emphatically than before.

"Lammels, you have been trying to inveigle a minor into
your clutches; I'll keep these papers and report you to the
police," and the superintendent put the papers into his pocket,
and turned to leave. He was, however, detained by the piti-
ful whining of the land-shark, who begged hard for mercy.

Don declared that he himself was partly to blame for not
looking more closely into the terms of the contract, and in

-.^.;.:mA iw turn- i-i

68 AIR 0A8TLB DON

case of prosecution he should be obliged to testify to that
effect.

Turning to Lammels, the superintendent said, decidedly
and severely : "I'll keep the papers, but if you are not arrested
it will be owing to the good graces of your interided victim.
I am tired of your villainies, and if I can get a good square case
against you I'll send you to the penitentiary without mercy;
that is where you and all your tribe belong."

"Now, my lad," said Truesdale, while they were walking
across the Square, "before you make any more bargains with
strangers, come to me and let me know what you are about.
The city is full of schemers, some of whom are apparently
respectable people, but who for the sake of making a few dol-
lars would stop at nothing. The Mariners' Home is open to
you at any time ; we have an excellent reading room over there,
and you are welcome to the use of it at all times. I am glad
that you have Bert Williams for a companion ; he's got an old
head on his young shoulders, and it will be worth your while
to listen to what he says.

When the boys had reached the attic region again, and
while they were sitting in Bert's room, he said, referring to
their former conversation about church steeples: "Well, Don,
I'll candidly confess that the steeple punched a hole through
that rascality in a very neat way. But for that Mariners'
Home many a poor fellow would be ruined in less than no
time."

"Yes, the steeple did the punching, but you did the prompt-
ing," Don replied, "and I begin to realize that you have saved
me from making a fatal mistake. I'll confess that I am as
green a country punpkin as ever set foot in a city; but if I am
with you much longer I think that I shall begin to show some
other colors."

j r i t- . i < i i « i..i

r^i^-:,

-SciiS*'

ff^giJiP ! i^#-^^^^-^. ' y^;*'*^f^^

ify to that

decidedly
ot arrested
led victim,
quare case
mt mercy;

'e walking
grains with
are about,
apparently
a few dol-
ls open to
jver there,
I am glad
g:ot an old
rour while

gain, and
ferring to
^ell, Don,

through
Mariners*

than no

prompt-
ive saved

I am as
It if I am
ow some

AIR OASTLB DON > QQ

Bert laughed in a shame-faced way, yet used Don's gener-
ous compliment as an excuse for anotherattack, saying, without
any beating of the bush : "Now look here, Don, I have got
another bone to pick with you. That dinner business is a
dead fake. You go without your dinner. And you are green
enough to think that you have covered up the deception by
saying tfiat when it ij more con-ve-ni-ent for you, you will
take your dinner with us. You might have known that that
dodge was too thin for anything, and that I would find you
out."

"How did you find it out?" asked Don, giving himself
away in the confusion produced by the suddenness of the
attack.

"By just guessing at it till I knew it was so," Bert replied
rather indefinitely, and with some embarrassment, for he had
not failed to observe that there was that in Don's manner that
warned him that he wa& treading upon very delicate ground.

"Have you said anything to your mother or Nora about
this?'* was the next somewhat portentous question.

"Of course not," Bert said in a hurry. "What you kept as
a secret from me, I felt in honor bound to keep secret from
them. But the bare thought of you going hollow all through
the middle of the day has knocked the bottom out of my appe-
tite time and time again. And when I have left my dinner
almost untouched, worrying about you, mother and Nora
would dig questions into me so deeply and rapidly I was com-
pelled to burrow like a groundhog in order to keep out of
their reach."

Much relieved to find that his affairs were not being dis-
cussed by the little family, and grateful to Bert for his manly
reserve, Don said: "Your honor and sympathy and generos-
ity are worthy of one of Sir W. Uer Scott's knights, and I can

'■m

- ^^^^j^jfji-rdi .

».«^

"r',.7T' ■.!»,•■

~rr^

AIR 0A8TLQ DON

talk with you freely. I'm too poor to pay three dollars — the
full rate for an attic boarder, so I cut my garment according
to my cloth. I do not suffer, and therefore I don't want to be
pitied. It isn't a bad plan, this going without one meal a day;
it makes you value the other two all the more. Continue to be
a good fellow by keeping silent about my dinner.

"But look here, Don Donalds;" this pride of yours may be
a good thing to have, and it may grow on the bushes where
you have lived, yet I will tell you this: Mother is no fool; she
can guess as well as I. I am sure that she is already bothering
herself about this dinner affair. Nora is as much of a Yankee
as her mother, and she is continually asking where you go to
dine. She is such a kitten-hearted thing that she will almost
go to pieces if she finds that you are in the habit of carrying
an empty stomach one-third of the time."

Don was silent at this new aspect of the case. He saw that
his expedient was too transparent to be concealed. Gathering
boldness from his silence, Bert said: "Let us split the differ-
ence and call it two dollars and a half a week, and then you can
eat your dinner like a man and feel as proud as you please."

"It's no use, Bert," Don exclaimed, suddenly becoming
confidential; "my pocket-book is far gone with consumption
already; and I must stick to my plan even though you pro-
claim it from the cellar to the house-top."

"Well, here's my ul-ti-ma-tum ; I believe that's what they
call it, and if you don't comply with it I'll sulk at you with
forty-horse power all the rest of the time you are here. I
spend more than fifty cents a week for mere nothing;^. I'll
save that money and bank it in you. You'll take it every Sat-
urday night and nobody shall know anything about it. That
will make up for your whole board. Of course, it will be a
loan, to be paid back when you get ready. If you run entirely

'^'*,:

'^t.MM»U.<l*B^.'.«»t«1t ' J W

the

kding

to be

day;

to be

vfm w ^iwm?^^^ij^- '■" ' "".w ' ,.ii..4 ■

^piif

J-T"

!P««

'■:!W^f:w7^"n.f^

AIR 0A8TLB DON

¥^m

short, you shall stay with us till there's a change in your
circumstances. Do you consent? You must take the fifty
cents, or the fifty sulks— one or the other."

Don began to laugh ; and the more he thought, the merrier
he became. He recalled what Nora had said about her brother
and thinking of her was like looking at the sun through a rift
in the clouds. "When I first came here," he said, "Nora told
me that you were an awful boy, and that you would wind me
about your finger like a piece of thread. I begin to under-
stand what she meant; you are an awful fellow, in your way.
I thankfully accept your oflfer, but — "

"No matter about the buts," Bert interrupted quickly. "I
knew you had lots of common sense beneath your piles of
pride, and that I should find it if I kept on digging for it. If
you had not accepted my offer, I think I should have taken
advantage of our looking so much like twins to put you in
my clothes and to send you down stairs to dine turn and turn
about with me, knowing that while you were at the table I
could have slipped into the pcntry and sneaked my dinner. ,
It would have been a puzzler for mother and Nora, and great
sjjort for us."

"Of course you are joking, but our present scheme is
almost as ridiculous as that would have been except the fact
that we can cover it up better than we could have covered
any such game as that. If your mother should find us out
I am afraid that she will not have a very good opinion of me."

"Make yourself easy," Bert replied, seeing that a cloud had
crossed Don's face, "and come to your dinners like a man.
Our secret will be as safe from her as if we had joined the
Masons or some other calathumpian society."

Their little fifty-cent romance, of which neither the widow
nor the daughter had any suspicion, lasted two weeks.

w *. I nJ

CHAPTER VII.

DON HAS A GREAT DAY.

Don received mild reproaches from home for starting out
into the world before his beard was grown, and the letters were
filled with anxieties tempered with hopes and blessings. His
replies made no mention of his predicaments; he was too proud
to indulge in whining, and withal, too considerate to burden
his friends with tales of his sorrows. Judging from his ktters
one might have thought that the far away boy was sitting in
a tree-top of this wonderful world seeing sights and experienc-
ing feelings that promptr' mly to notes of song.

He got a long ''nd glo^ving certificate of character signed
by rustic dignitaries whose names were of no more account
in Boston than the sands upon the seashore, and for the reason
that though he pursued his weary rounds in search of work,
he seldom or never found anyone who was willing to notice
the stranger enough to look at his credentials. He again
began to have hard thoughts about the steeples, for he had not
yet learned that churches and worldly affairs more often than
not, have as little to do with one another as old maiils have to
do with old bachelors.

Like a far off almost forgotten dream came the "Id words:
"The stranger that dwelleth with you shall be as one born
among you, and ye shall love him as thyself; for ye were
strangers in the land of Egypt; I am the Lord, your God."
He remembered the words of The Man of Nazareth, "I was a

(7a)

'pttummuammnii

JP • ifAPiii*

^g out

AIR OASTriK DON

stranger, and yc t.)ok me in," but he became quite sure that
cither they had nt ver been heard in, Doston or that they
had been outgrown Ii; iU" people.

On sloppy or threat -'.nj; days, lie avoided business places,
for he had learnc.I 1>;. hitler experience that in bad weather
men's tempers had the rheumatism aiul that their woids were
like dragon's teeth. On Such days he took refuge in Tl.i'
Mariner's Home, where he .spent part of the time listening U)
the vivid yarns of thi old sailors, who in the stormiest weather,
like ducks and geese, were in the best of moods. What jol'y
tars they werel What floo<Is of recollections of the stormy
deep and of foreign dinn s, and of perils and adventures the
gusts of wind and ^plashes of rain set in motion ! He almost
regretted that he had not been sent to sea to roost with the
blue-jackets among the yards and ringing of some far-going
ship. The brutes on shipboard could not be more numerous
or worse than those on land. He would as soon be bound
hand and foot and delivered over to the cruel mercies of the
sea as to be left unl>ound and delivered over to the equally
cruel negligences of tlie land.

Boys think as readily as men, and quite as readily does the
black bile get into their blood when fortune frowns unkindly;
and quite as readily, too, does the black tide set all their
thoughts awry. But, thank Heaven, they are more susceptible
to the saving grace of hope and the healing balm of forget-
fulness, and far more readily than men do they take heart
again. And so, though Don had his mumps he made quick
jumps from the 'Slough of Despond' to solid standing ground.

Having formed the habit of reading the, daily press he
had become so interested in current events as to find in their
larger public scope influences which tended to diminish the
magnitude of his private annoyances. All Boston and the

Ain CARTLK DON

regions round about were rife with political excitement. By
some inscrutable stretch of partisan nieanncss the great Daniel
Webster had been refused the use of Taneuil for an address
to his friends and constituents.

"Daniel Webster shut out of I'ancuil llali!" exclaimed Bert
indignantly, during one of their aftic conversations. "Great
Scott! What a pickle that is for Boston to be in! It's enough
to make one sick of the city."

Daniel Webster was one of Don's idols, and sympathizing
with Bert's indignation, he said: "I have always been taught
that Webster was the world's greatest statesman, yet here he
is without honor in his own city. What kind of patriotism do
you call that?"

"No, not without honor," was the quick rejoinder. "He
comes to-morrow, and is to speak on Boston Common, and
you will see the biggest crowd around him you ever saw in
your life — yes, the biggest crowd you ever dreamt of. And
it will be a crowd of honor, you may depend upon that. You
are a lucky dog, for you can be one of them while I shall have
to stay cooped up in that old store like a parrot in a cage.
You'll remember his looks and his words as long as you live.
There is only one Daniel Webster in this world, and he is
so great I don't see where they are going to find a place big
enough for him in the other world. One of the last things I
did before I left school was to recite a part of one of his
speeches, and the words made my blood hum as if I were a
top."

"Do you remember the words now?" Don asked, carried
away by Bert's fervor.

"I remember this much," said Bert, sliding into the stirring
sentences as easily as a ship slides into the sea at a launching.
They were from Webster's last speech in the senate of the

'*s«SSEES

m uluBiiMjiJ .1 ti i j i ui i jiwiu i«Li I ' ■■

"»"^"r"

Ain OARTLR DON

7ft

By
)aniel
Idress

United States: "For myself, I propose, sir, to al)idc by the
principles and the purposes T have avowed. I shall stand by
the Union and all who stand by it. I shall do justice to the
whole country, according to the best of my ability, in all I
say, anil act for the gooti of the whole country in all I do.
I tnenn to stand upon the Constitution. I need no other plat-
form. [ shall know but one country. The ends I aim at shall
be my ''untry's, my God's, and Truth'*. I was born an Amer-
ican; I vvill live an American; I shall die an American; and I
intend to perform the duties incumbent upon me in that char-
actf'r to the end of my career. I mean to do this, with
absolute disregard of personal consequences.

"That's the kind of talk Webster gave us," Bert went on,
"talk that ought to lift everyone out of the nutd of meanness
into the pure sky-blue. And yet, confound it! We've got
enough dirty politicians here in Boston to shut him out of
Faneuil Hall. If I had them alt in a bunch, I'l boil them in a
lye-vat and see if I couldn't get some of the dirt out of them."

"Yes, you are at a boiling point already, and I don't blame
you," said Don, "for men who would insult such a man as
Webster are as bad as that land-shark Lammels, you hate so
much."

"Lammels!" Bert exclaimed explosively; "why, he is one of
the city fathers; he's the alderman from our ward, and there
are several others just like him who run their wards by
whiskey and then try to run the city by the same kind of stuff.
Most of our politicians are only fit for boot-blacks to the
devil."

Don knew little about city governments, and less about
politics in general and becoming interested in the knowledge
that this city boy seemed to posses, he asked by way of inform-
ation: "Isn't Webster a politician?"

I'i'

AIR CASTLE DON

Bert Hashed indignantly at his friend for an instant, but
seeing that he was not trifling with him he repHed : "Yes, he
is a politician, only you spell it p-a-t-r-i-o-t, and that makes the
same difference that there is between Satan and the angel
Gabriel. And you'll know well enough what I mean when
you hear Webster to-morrow."

When Don reached the speaking place on Boston Common
the next day, he found the space between the Frog Pond and
the Public Garden filled with tens of thousands of people.
And when the great statesman ascended the platform the wel-
coming voice of the multitude was as the sound of many
waters. When, after he was introduced by the chairman of
the meeting, he waved his hand for silence the tumult sank to
a dead stillness that was as impressive as the acclamation that
preceded it. Nor was the calm disturbed save when some tell-
ing point of the masterly address awoke the plaudits of the
rapt listeners.

From the outskirts of the vast crowd, by processes best
known to a boy, Don edged his way through the mass little
by littlCj^till he reached the front of the platform on which
Webster stood. Inch by inch, as if irresistibly drawn by the
magnetism of the speaker, he wormed his way up the steps to
the last one, where he sat with uplifted face enthralled by the
high brow, the dark deep set eyes, the grave countenance, the
deep voluminous voice, the magic words, the transparent
thoughts and the calm mighty earnestness of the "God-like
man" before him. And once when Webster, leaning slightly
forward for an instant, looked steadily down into his eyes he
felt as though he were expanding into the largeness of space
itself. Nor was he again conscious of the world about him till
the mighty shout which marked the last sentence of Webster's
last public speech brought him back to earth. Something in

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AIB CASTLB DON

the boy's rapt attitude drew the attention of the statesman to
him, and while the applause was still thundering through the
air he extended his hand to Don and greeted him with a grave
earnest pressure that thrilled him with unspeakable pleasure,
although for the life of him he could not keep the tears back
while, for the first and the last time he gazed into the sad,
mighty countenance of America's greatest intellect. Weak-
ened by severe labor, disappointed in his great ambition, over-
burdened with patriotic anxieties, and, what was far worse,
grieved by the rankest ingratitude, Webster returned to
Marshfield, where, in a few short months his remains were
deposited in the bosom of mother earth.

The spell, which was never to be entirely broken, was still
strong upon Don, when Bert, eager to obtain an account of
the meeting, rushed into the attic as soon as he leturned from
the store and began to ply him with anxious questions.

"I shall never see or hear his like again, though I should
live a thousand years," said Don, breathing a long, deep sigh.
"He made me think of the giant singing pines of Nova Scotia,
and of the mighty waves I have seen beating against the Nova
Scotian coast. All the steeples in the city couldn't equal the
greatness of that one man ; and, though you won't believe me,
he, Daniel Webster, shook hands with me at the close of his
speech."

"You I" exclaimed Bert incredulously.

Then Don explained till Bert believed.

"Yet, the man who can speak like a God, and shake hands
with a boy like a friend is shut out of Faneuil Hall by such
rascally politicians as Lammels and his gang," Bert exclaimed
angrily, unable to banish from his mind the indignity to which
his great ideal had been subjected.

"But the fools wrought more wisely than they knew; if

'IBSV

AIR CASTLE DON

they had not shut him out he would not have spoken to fifty
thousand people to-day," said Don, possibly exaggerating the
number of the vast audience.

Don's great day extended over several other days, for that
one hour and a half of Webster remained so vividly with him
as to obliterate the divisions of day and night and morning and
evening. And it was while he was preoccupied with the one
event that another — a second event happened, and welded
itself to the first, so that the two thrilling experiences were
identified with each other.

On the third evening after the Webster speech, Bert, with-
out the ceremony of knocking, about which he had always
been scrupulously particular, broke into his room radiant with
some new excitement

"What do you think, old boy!" he exclaimed, almost
breathlessly.

"Webster," said Don, truthfully, "I can hardly think any-
thing else. I am afraid that if my old friend, Peter Piper, were
here, he'd say I was climbing Jacob's ladder when I ought to
be fighting my battles on solid ground of some kind."

"Well, I have a bit of solid ground for you," said Bert.

"What is it?" asked Don anxiously, beginning to feel that
Bert had important news for him.

"This afternoon I had to go into a bookstore to get some
books to help fill out one of our orders, and there in the
window was a notice — 'Boy Wanted.' So, as soon as I got the
books, I asked about the notice, and said I knew a boy who
might possibly suit them. Wickworth & Co. know me so
well that they began to ask questions about you, I simply
answered their questions without plastering on the praises.
At the end I did venture to tell them about Webster shaking
hands with you; it was a chance shot but it went straight to

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AIR CASTLE DON

fifty
J the

that
him
and
one
elded
were

the mark. The younger Wickworth is a great Wrbster man.
He was down to the Webster meeting, and stood ciose by the
platform, saw you there, noticed how you listened, and saw the
great man shake hands with you. He liked your appearance,
and in the end they said I might bring you up, for it was more
than likely that you would suit. But they said they would
only pay board for the first six months. Then they wanted to
know how much we charged ; I said three dollars and a half a
week — and you know that is our regular price for those who
board below the attic. They thought the amount was reason-
able. So, there you are, you see, with a margin of a whole
dollar a week, that is, if you mind your ps and qs to-morrow,
and get the place. Their store is only a short distance from
ours, and we can go and come together."

Don was much elated at the prospects opening before him,
but there was one thing that cast a cloud upon the aflfair, and
he said: "Bert, you are an awful boy, sure enough. How
could you keep an honest look on your face when you said my
board was three dollars and ^a half a week?"

"That was straight business," was the prompt reply. "I
wasn't going to let them know that you were stowed away in
an attic. It is three dollars and a half; but we will give you
one dollar and a half to keep the attic ; nobody else will take it.
You must have something to keep you slicked up; if you don't,
you'll get kicked out; slouches won't pass muster in any kind
of business. So, there is the whole thing as plain as a bee
sting or a mosquito bite."

"Well, put that way, what you said about the board is
right, and I'll not say anything to contradict you when I see
them."

"Of course it's right — as right as a sermon — right for all
concerned."

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AIR CASTLE DON

On the way to the attic Bert saw Nora, to whom he gave
a passing hint of the news he was carrying to Don. She
wanted to know all about it, and being unwilling to wait,
rapped at the door for admittance.

"Have you really got a place for him, Bert?" she asked as
soon as she had seated herself in the rocker.

"He is plumb up against the door of a place, and if he
doesn't get inside it won't be because he doesn't deserve to
get inside. It is as sure as anything can be in this uncertain
old world." And Bert smiled upon his sister so cheerfully
she felt that it was as good as settled.

Addressing herself to Don, she said earnestly: "Now you
can get out of this horrid attic, and take a good square room
down stairs, can't you?"

"Really, Nora, you are very con-sid-e-rate of your
unworthy brother!" Bert interrupted with mock seriousness.

"But you have a front attic with two windows in it that give
you a full view of the Square," Nora persisted, pluckily.

"Since you and your mother brightened this room up, I am
as contented as a bird in its nest," said Don sincerely. "And
being so near your brother, makes me doubly contented. I
am no longer like a cat in a strange garret."

"If you are contented, I would rather have you near him,"
Nora said with much satisfaction.

"We are Two Boston Attic Phi-los-o-phers," drawled
Bert with his usual prolonged emphasis upon the big word,
"and we are going to maintain our lofty reputation by sticking
to good, round common sense in spite of all the little or big
girls of Boston."

■*mwasyiBSL2*iia*i '

le gave
She
o wait,

CHAPTER VIII.

THB BACKBONB OP THB BLACK ARY.

Don knew something of Nature; of how sunshine, air,
clouds, water, earth, and even rocks, are changed into potatoes,
pumpkins, grass, grain, worms, birds, beasts, mankind — and
womankind, also. He had gained many vague hints about
these things from the various books with which he had become
acquainted in his short life.

But it was precious little he knew about the book business;
of how ideas, authors, printers, binders, publishers and the
public get jumbled or joined together in the processes of book-
making, bookselling and bookreading. He was now about
to learn something of The Black Art, from, the author's first
dip into the inkstand to the publisher's last advertisement set-
ting forth the author's unique genius and the publisher's super-
natural enterprise in introducing him to a long suflfering and
justly exacting public. The very backbone of The Black Art
was to be laid open to his view; that is to say, he was to
become acquainted with the business of bookselling.

He had read somewhere of a venerable lady who tried to
manage a refractory pig she had purchased in the market, and
of the wonderful effects of a piece of cheese. The mouse hav-
ing received the cheese, began to gnaw the rope; the rope
began to hang the butcher; the butcher began to kill the ox;
the ox began to drink the brook ; the brook began to quench
the fire; the fire began to bum the stick; and the stick began to
beat the pig; and so, the pig went over the stile, enabling the

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matron to reach her home in time to save her pudding which
she had left boiling in the pot. Don was to learn that if the
author gets his cheese and the publisher saves his pudding, it
is a sure sign of the success of all the intermediate processes
of the whole business.

The Wickworth firm was old and well established, but
conservative in its methods and comparatively limited in its
enterprise. The entire force consisted of the two brothers,
the senior and the junior members of the firm, two general
clerks, and a boy of all work.

The elder brother, quite well advanced in years, was

smooth-faced, benevolent in appearance and a prominent

member of the large denomination to which he belonged, and

of which he was a conspicuous office-bearer. The junior

member had been a colonel in the Mexican war. His black

and somewhat neglected hair, and bristling and fiercely

brushed beard were apt to give the impression that the chief

object of his existence was to make people feel uncomfortable.

In religious matters he was forward to make even his intimate
friends think that he was a Philistine of the Philistines. In

fine, the brothers were so different in appearance and in man-
ners from each other that it was difficult to believe that they
were the offspring of the same parents.

Bert introduced Don to the partners on the morning when
the engagement was to begin, and Don was quickly
turned over to the colonel for the preliminary examination.
Contrary to the expectations he formed from the appearance
of the colonel, he was questioned kindly, encouraged gener-
ously, aniJ bidden to take up his shop duties immediately.

"A boy who has been so kindly noticed by Daniel
Webster," said the colonel gravely, "ought to be able to com-
mend himself favorably to a good many other people."

ser

AIU GASTLB DON

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Don thereupon began his work with a light and resolute
heart. He was to open and close the store, clean up and dust
down, pack and unpack boxes of books, wait upon customers
as opportunity ofifered, and do the outside errands of the firm.

These outside errands formed the most important part of
his duties. If books in stock were not sufficient to meet orders
upon the firm, he was to go among the other stores, and in
accordance with the courtesies of the trade, pick them up
wherever he could find them. This required accuracy and dis-
patch, but it was congenial because it involved trust and at the
same time outdoor change.

While making his first rounds in this outside department of
duty he was at once recognized as a newcomer and an inex-
perienced hand. He was accordingly subjected to occasional
tricks and chaffing by the boys who had already passed their
novitiate in the temples of The Black Art. Having been fore-
warned by Bert that such would be his fate, he met his tor-
mentors with unfailing good nature and gave as good as
he got.

There was only one instance in which he lost his temper,
and this was in Phillips & Sampson's store, where a very
opprobrious epithet was applied to him one morning by a
young underling of the store force. Don was not only
described as verdant, but as something a good deal worse.
Laying the books he had under his arms upon the counter, and
turning to his tormentor, he said: "I will confess that I am
green as compared with fellows of your stripe, but I am going
to teach you that in speaking so disrespectfully to me, you are
far greener than I." And he seized him and shook him till
the victim was ready to cry quits.

It happened that one of the proprietors overheard the
epithet, though it was spoken in an undertone, and Don see-

'■^1

•VW ' Jf^^-

AIR CA8TLK DON

ing that he was present, said: "I beg your pardon, sir; but
I draw the line of jest at the term used by your clerk, and if
I had him in some other place he would not get off as easy as

he has."

"It served him right," said the proprietor; "and no apology
is necessary from you ; that should come from him."

The incident soon went the Founds of the stores, and
thenceforth Don was exempted from annoyance.

Deacon Wickworth having heard of the episode, called
Don into the counting room and reproved him for letting his
temper get the better of his business relations.

The colonel followed him to the business room, and with
twinkling eyes, said: "This is one of the things about which my
brother and I diflfer. Without questioning his motives or
lessening your respect for him, I desire to say, that I am glad
you shook that whelp, but I am sorry that you didn't shake
him out of his boots and whip him besides." Doubtless the
colonel's soldierly blood and experiences were responsible for
his belligerent regrets.

The clerks of the store had been disposed to sneer at Don
because of the somewhat rustic suit of clothes he still wore,
and they had also been inclined to attribute his belligerency
to his rusticity; but now that the colonel had applauded him
for enforcing due respect for his rights, they treated him as
one of themselves.

Bert soon heard of the incident through an acquaintance
at the store where it occurred, and lost no time in telling it to
his mother and Nora. As in duty bound, the mother while
regretting the affront, also regretted the violent resentment
provoked by it. Nora, however, clapped her hands, girl-like,
and with sanguinary fierceness, very similar to that of the
colonel, declared that she was sorry that Don had not torn

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the very coat from his insuher's back. This was such an
unspeakably naughty wish for a young and gentle girl, that
her mother began to reprove her witli great severity.

"Why, mother," Nora interrupted, "what would you do if
you were called by an awful bad name?"

"I'd let it pass without notice ; mere names can't change the
nature of the person to whom they are given."

"But if they were not right they would stir you up all the
same, said Bert. "And though they might not set your arms
going, as they did in Don's case, they'd set your pale face
flaming like dry kindling."

"And I'd scratch the eyes out of anyone that insulted me!"
exclaimed Nora, indignantly. Bert and Nora being in the
majority, the mother without acquiescing in their opinions or
sympathizing with their feelings, remained discreetly silent.

When the boys were in the front attic after tea, Bert said:
"I overheard some of the folks in our store talking about you
to-day. Mr. Phillips, who saw you shake that Bob Larkins,
was telling Mr. Ticknor and Oliver Wendell Holmes about
the fracas. He said you shook Larkins as a terrior shakes a
rdt, and then apologized to the house as though you were Sir
Charles Grandison. The little doctor got his face all screwed
out of shape he laughed so heartily ; and he said that if Russell
Lowell got hold of the story he'd make a whole Bigelow Paper
out of it."

"Aren't you stretching things a bit?" asked Don, coloring
like a peach. "Business men and authors can hardly be inter-
ested in such things as boys' squabbles."

"Don't deceive yourself about that! If Daniel Webster
himself were to hear how his boy-listener got turned into a
clothes-shaker he'd laugh in spite of all his statesmanship and
dignity. Every man is but the ghost of a boy, and though he

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CASTLE DON

should {jrow as gray and as cold as a cloud, the stories of boy-
scrapes will set thp ghos*^ to grinning like a comic mask. I'm
nothing but a boy, yet I keep my eyes and ears open to men,
and I know how men talk over their boy -times to one another,
and how they laugh about boy-scrapes. I haven't been at
Ticknor & Fields' for nothing, nor even for five dollars a week
only."

Bert not only spoke precociously, but he looked so prema-
turely knowing that Don was slightly overawed, as was
expressed when he said: "Look here, Bert! You talk about
men being but the ghosts of boys ; but I solemnly believe that
you are an old man masquerading in a boy's skin; and some-
times you make me feel as though you were never a real
downright boy, such as we have in the country."

"I wish from the bottom of my heart that I had been born
in the country," Bert replied with a sigh; "it would have been
something to remember. If you had been born and brought
up in a city among the bricks and stones and the rattle of pave-
ments and lht=. everlasting rush of people, without a chance to
see the country from one year's end to another, you wouldn't
wonder at my carrying such a wrinkled old soul in such*a
young body. You'd feel as if you had been put in pickle in
the days of Noah and had never had a chance to get out of it."

Thinking that he had touched a tender chord with too
rough a hand. Don began to explain and to qualify his mean-
ing, but was immediately interrupted with: "Oh, you need
not be at the trouble of taking your shoes oflf, now that you
have so effectually kicked me with them on. True, you made
me feel bad, but it is such a goodish kind of badishness that I
should not object to more of it. You may let the blood out of
my veins if you will only refill them with some of the fresh stuff
that runs in your own."

' yjf ' B^vv ' W"'

AIR CASTLE DON

Then abruptly changing the subject, he asked : "How do
you like Wickworth and company?"

"Quite well; or, to be perfectly honest, I like the colonel
first rate, and the deacon second rate. But we ought not to
discuss the characters of the people for whom we work —
ought we?"

Bert looked at him seriously for a moment, and then broke
into a laugh. "It is easy to see," he said, "that your con-
science was brought up in a country garden, where there was
plenty of room and soil ; but you may as well understand first
as at last that mine sprung up through cracks in the pavement
and that consequently it is rather weak and stunted. Yet,
right or wrong, I will say this ; in our attic we have the liberty
to say what we please about our employers. Why shouldn't
we discuss them behind their backs, when they would as good
as cuss us to our faces if we should happen to let one of their
smallest pins drop out of place? When we went into service
we -xpected to serve as lightning rods for every thunder storm
that might occur in the ter^per of our masters. And, besides,
'that careless boy* is the scapegrace upon whose back are
placed a!! the sins of omission and commission that properly
belong to the other understrappers of the establishment. Our
attic is our kingdom, where we propose to reign over our
tongues like emperors. If you were to tell th« truth about
the colonel and the deacon, you would admit that in their
cases, as well as in some others, appearances are very
deceiving."

"Yes," Don replied, relaxing in his scruples, "the smooth,
benevolent face of the deacon made me think that he was good
enough for a whole steeple, while the rough face and manners
of the colonel made me think that he was ugly enough for a
whipping post."

I ti

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txi

AIR OASTLB DON

"Exactly; the sugar tag is on the deacon and the acid tag
on the colonel, when it ought, by good rights, to be just the
other way. Somebody made a big blunder when those two
packages of humanity were done up. I never see them with-
out asking as Tom Hood makes his bachelor ask in The Bach-
elor's Dream at the end of every verse : ; * • ;

- What d* ye think of tha*. my cat? ' * '

What d* ye think of that, my dog?"

"I am afraid," said Don, "that the remembrance of what
you have said may sometimes take me unawares and tickle me
into laughing at them under their very noses."

"If the deacon were to see you smiling, he would freeze you
at a glance, but if the colonel should happen tc catch you at it,
he would take it for granted that your thought: were worth
laughing at, and would smile to see you smile. There is more
fun in him than you would think. I was over there one day
for books. He took them from the shelf and slammed them
upon the counter as if he we: i firing hot shot at the Mexicans.
I laughed aloud at his seeming ugliness, and then u?ked his
pardon for my impudence; and I was in such a hurry to do it,
too, that the ludicrousness of it set him to shaking all over.
Seeing how his mirth contradicted his slamming of the books,
I giggled like a girl, and to save myself I cut and run as fast
as I could go."

"I notice that he has a habit of slamming books about,"
said Don; "and he does it sometimes when there isn't a soul
standing near him. What do you suppose makes him do it?"

"In the first place a book is as good as a door for a slam
when you don't want to say damn right out; and in the second
place, when you catch him at that sort of thing, it is more
than likely that he has been having some kind of a battle with
h*« brother. It is common talk among the book stores that

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AIR CASTLE DON

he and his brother do not agree over well about anything.
You, however, should not trouble yourself about their differ-
ences, for they do not concern you. Yet allow me to give you
this tit of advice; when the deacon is around, keep your face
as tight as the face of a base ball, but when the colonel is near
you can let it do as it pleases. If both should happen to be
by, you can look base ball on one side, and Don Donalds on
the other side. If your conscience should trouble you for
being doublefac^d, you can easily pacify it by pleading
necessity."

"There is an easier way than that," replied Don seriously,
"and that is to do my duty to the best of my ability and then
leave my face to look out for itself. I detest hypocrisy of any
kind."

"Yes; that is just the danger of it. You hate hypocrisy so
much, and, at the same time have such a tell-tale countenance
that some of these days your contempt for the deacon will
blaze into your face and then there will be the deuce to pay, for
he is suspicious as well as vindictive. So, for your own good,
it will be best for you to cultivate, or, rather, to sev; on a good
leather base ball face over the threads and yarns of your heart.
And by the way, I need to take some of my own advice, for I
do not always practice in the store what I am preaching here
in the attic. I am naturally inclined to sulk if things do not
suit me, and although I have the best of employers, I am
awfully sulky some days. It is then that I get my worst
knocks. And it is not to be wondered at either, for a sulky
face is the most impudent and insulting show that one can
make while on duty."

"Suppose we give one night a week to the study of this
face business?" said Don, quite soberly. "Our teachers used
to drill us in facial expression whenever we had anything to

■■■' II 1^11 iiifii

■MiMitfainnr:,.

rniii^liiJflrf

AIR CASTLE DON

declaim; we can go a little further, and drill ourselves in facial
repose. Such an exercus as this would help us to guard our-
selves from having our feelings known to everybody that
chooses to poke his glances at us when we are supposed to be
out of humor."

"I agree to that, and you shall be the teacher; for while you
are laughing at me in your sleeves you are keeping as sober
as if you were a law book bound in sheep. You are better at
face-keeping than I supposed you could be."

"How, then, did you know that I was laughing in my
sleeves, as you say?"

"Because the twinkles were leaking out of the corners of
your eyes; "we'll have to discipline them, too, if our lessons
are to do us any good. But it strikes me that our conversa-
tion has taken a queer turn; we began by criticising our
employers, and end by criticising ourselves."

"That is a good place to end at, but it would be still better
if we were to begin there and keep there most of the time,"
said Don, and so suggestively withal, that Bert deemed it
advisable to change the subject.

I ■;

■% < -■/ t,-.«.

s in facial
uard our-
>ody that
3sed to be

while you
', as sober
: better at

ig in my

romers of
ir lessons
conversa-
ising our

itill better
he time,"
leemed it

!ry."-qrn . "(iw* ■■"'i'" "" p^ji f' ''-w ^ > i. •'

ii«ii II W{^'m^m9f^f^^'^mi9g^mmmmrm^''^^^m9*

J I I I I . mw i i^ j

CHAPTER IX.

PAYING FOR A DISAPPOINTMENT.

One evening Bert entered Don's attic with an evening
paper in his hand, and a great project in his head. "I have hit
it at last," he said mysteriously.

"A fortune, I hope, for there is nothing too good for you,"
said Don, sympathetically responding to Bert's look and
manner.

"No, there is no such thing as a fortune for a North Square
gamin, but it is something that will answer equally well for
one day at" least. You know that there is to be a great rail-
road celebration in Boston next week, and this paper says that
all business will be suspended for the day."

"And that means a holiday I'or us," Don said quickly.
"What shall we do with it? Spend the day playing ball at the
foot of Boston Common? Or shall we play ball during the
forenoon and fish from the end of the wharf during the rest of
the day?"

"No, sir!" said Bert, with a vigorous toss of his head, and
a touch of scorn in his face; "that sort of thing got played out
with me long, 1-o-n-g ago. I'm sick of Boston Common and
its everlasting sameness; and unless you take a rocking chair
with you, it is too hard work sitting on an oak plank waiting
for a bite that may never come."

"Then we will run about the town after the bands, the
soldiers, societies and the speakers and big men; that will be
better still," said Don.

(91)

ill:

UHMriMi

• AIR CASTLE DON

"I have had so much of that, that if they were to join Eng-
land and tlie United States together by rail, instead of Canada
and Boston, and were to b-ing together all the soldiers, drums
and big men of the two countries, I wouldn't give a peanut for
the show. I am going to compensate myself for the greatest
disappointment of my life by celebrating the day according
to my own notions, and not according to the notions of the city
fathers or the city children either." And Bert spoke so slowly
and solemnly that Don was unable to decide whether he was
in earnest or in jest. *

"What was your disappointment?" he asked by way of get-
ting at his friend's purpose.

"I told you not long since, that I was born and brought
up in Boston — and I suppose I ought to be proud of it to my
dying day — bu'. I forgot to tell you that when I was one year
old, my m.other took me with her when she made a voyage
around the world with father while he was captain of the ship
Fleetwood. Now, if there is anything under the sun that is
more provoking than any other thing, it is to discover that
you have travelled all over creation without knowing or enjoy-
ing the trip. I awoke the other night and thought the whole
matter out, and I concluded that that trip was the greatest
disappointment of my life.

Don began to laugh, and the more he looked at Bert, and
saw how he kept his face, the more he laughed.

"What are you going to do about it? How can you com-
pensate for it?" Don asked, with difficulty restraining another
outburst of mirth.

"I am going to hire a sailboat on railroad day and make a
trip with Nora down the harbor and into the country. I never
did such a thing before, and I never expect to do it again."

"But if you have never managed a boat, you cannot do it

"••'^^'W?

AIR CASTLE DON

|join Eng-
>f Canada
rs, driims
eanut for
|e greatest
ccording
3f the city
so slowly
-r he was

ay of get-
brought
it to my

one year
[a voyage

the ship
in that is
3ver that
3r enjoy-
he whole

greatest

5ert, and

3u com-
another

make a
I never
in."
it do it

now; it would be foolhardy to attempt it." Don was becom-
ing alarmed.

"I don't propose to do the managing; I suppose from what
I have heard you say about handling boats, that you know all
about them. I am going to find the boat and you are to do
the niannging. How does that strike you?"

Don clapped his hands applaudingly, ;«.nd promptly
accepted the proposed burden. "But," said he, "your mother
ought to be included in the party ; an outing will do her good."

"I have spoken to her," Bert replied, "but since father's
death she hates the sea so much she doesn't like even to look
upon it. She believes that you have been accustomed to boats,
and notwithstanding her dislike for salt water, is willing that
Nora should accompany us. Nora is delighted, and I do not
wonder, for she has been as much caged as I have. Boston
Common is about all she knows of the outer world. Now you
can begin to give your orders as soon as you please, for though
you are green to the city, I am greener still so far as the water
or the country is concerned." > ,i

"There is little ordering to be done," said Don; "all we
need is to secure a boat as early as possible, because boats will
probably be in demand on that holiday. We can go to the
boat basin to-morrow night and make our selection. I may
add, that it will be well to provide an ample lunch, for as soon
as your appetite finds that you are on salt water, it will begin
to make larger demands than usual. To prevent disappoint-
ment, I must warn you beforehand that everything depends
upon the weather; we shall not start unless all the signs
promise good weather for the day. With Nora to care for, we
shall not even risk discomfort."

"I don't believe that the Lord takes much stock in railroads
or in railroad celebrations," Bert began, "and if the rain took

•dhkMM

AIR OASTLB DON

a notion to come down on that day, I don't believe that he'd
prevent it for the railroad's sake. But if he knew that a girl
and two boys were praying for good weather so that they
might get out of prison for a few hours, I think he'd tell ihe
clouds to steer clear of Boston for their sakes. At any rate
all three of us ought to pray hard for a favoring sky. But
even in case there shouldn't be a cloud in sight when we start,
wouldn't it be prudent to have a pair of umbrellas with us?"

"Oh, don't make light of sacred things!" Don exclaimed in
a shocked way.

"I am not making light of them; I am only putting in my
heaviest licks to get them to be on our side," Bert protested.
"When one is trying to pay himself for the greatest disappoint-
ment of his life, joking is out of the question. I shall ask
mother co pray for us, for she has lots of religious gumption.
If there should be anything crooked about our prayers, hers
would be straight enough to make up for them, even though
she should bring the clouds down to the surface of the water
on Celebration Day." .

Don was a good judge of boats, and he selected a trim,
staunch little craft that carried a jib and mainsail with sheets
and halliards running aft, where he could handle them without
moving from the tiller. Bert would be of no service as a
sailor, but with the ropes under his own hand, Don, m case
of head wind could tack as he pleased, and, should x squall
spring up, he could drop his sails in an instant.

The anxiously anticipated day came like the smile of God;
a cloudless, balmy day with just wind enough to foster the
impression that the Infinite Father of all was breathing peace-
fully and paternally upon a short-sighted and sorrowing world,
and wooing it to think of that better country in which
"God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes ; and there shall

ifiifii ^---*^-''--'^'-^"''''''"' *'^'^'''*^"^'^'*'''''*^^

■< " " r-' f

AIR CA8TLB DON

that he'd
Ihat a girl

that they
fd tell ihe

any rate
iky. But

we start,
th us?"
laimed in

ng in my
jrotested.
sappoint-
shall ask
umption.
ers, hers
1 though
he water

1 a trim,
th sheets

without
ice as a

m case
i squall

of God;
ster the
', peace-
r world,
which
re shall

be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall
there be any more pain, for the former things are passed
away."

Don looked his boat over with an experienced eye, and
seeing that everything was snug and ship-shape, he hoisted his
sails and swung out into the stream among the numerous little
craft that gaily floated around him, with a confidence and skill
that commanded Bert's unbounded admiration and respect.
Nora's happiness was so great that, finding no words with
which to express her pleasure, she sat as still as a brooding
bird.

Only once did Bert become alarmed. Don was running
the boat close into the wind. Dead ahead of him there was a
crowded excursion steamer with scores of flags floating in the
bright sun.

"She'll run U'S down," Bert shrieked at the top of his voice.

"Not a bit of it," said Don calmly; "I have the weather
gage and she will recognize that I have the right of way."

"But a big craft like that won't mind such a shell of a thing
as we are in. For Heaven's sake, Don, get out of her way!"

But Don, unmoved, kept his course, and when the steamer
began to draw near she swung from her straight wake making
a graceful curve, which left the boat a safe distance to wind-
ward. The man at the wheel knew that the little craft was
sovereign in her rights, and he changed his direction as a
matter of course, while the gaily dressed passengers waved
their handkerchiefs and cheered at the young voyagers in the
boat.

"Well, I declare!" Bert exclaimed, wiping the perspiration
from his face, "if that's the way the weather gage works, why
don't they land some of it and apply it to the big things that
are always running over the small things?"

■iMiaiiaiM

MHaiMcaiyiig

mfrna^

AIR CASTLE DON

;;»

"There is lots of it on shore- already," said Don, In a matter
of fact way. "For instance, if you were pulling a hand-cart
in the street and were on the right of it, the most aristocratic
carriage tiiat goes would have to give you the right of way;
and it is the same in a hundred other cases. But for this
respect for the undoubted rights of others the world would be
a good deal worse than it is."

"I'll stick up for the weather gage all the rest of my days,"
said Hert. "But suppose that the steamer had not seen us?"
he suddenly asked, after a pause.

"That is not a supposahlo case," Don replied; "she had her
lookout at the fore, ami it was his duty to see everything ahead
of him; besides, the pilot himself steered with his eyes open.
If I had steered any closer to the wind, I should have lost my
headway altogether. The steamer knew that so far as we were
concerned it was our duty to keep our course, and that is why
she changed hers."

"Yet I was almost frightened to death," Bert said sheep-
ishly. Addressing himself to his sister, he added: "Weren't
you scared?"

"No; of course I wasn't," she replied truthfully; "and I
wondered why you made such a fuss."

"That was because you didn't know enough to be scared,
and that is ihe way it generally is with you females."

"Well, I would rather be ignorant than frightened. I am
enjoying this sail altogether too much to spoil it by borrowing
trouble. When Don begins to show the white feather, I will
show mine to keep him company."

"Well, I think you are about right after all, little Miss
Coolhead."

Then turning to Don, Bert said: "The outdoors you have
lived in is a good deal wider than the indoors which has been

AIR OABTLB DON

a matter

land-cart

ristocratic

of way;

for this
would be

ny days,"
seen us?"

e had her
ng ahead
yes open,
c lost my
I we were
at is why

id sheep-
"Weren't

; "and I

e scared,

I. I am
•rrowing
r. I will

:le Miss

ou have
as been

the prison-house of the most of my life, and you show it in
almost everything you do or say. Boston may be the hub of
the universe, as Oliver Wendell Holmes says, but I am
inclined to think that she is only a fly on the real hub. Two
things are becoming very plain to me; one is, that I have been
raised in Boston, and the other is, that you have been raised
in the universe. During the first of our acquaintance, i
thought you very verdant, but I will never again call you
green; never 1"

Don smiled contentedly, but as the wind was freshening
and the boat was careening to the breeze, he confined his
energies and watchfulness to the management of the little craft.

As they sailed further and further away from the city, and
passed the islands in the outer harbor, Bert suddenly realized
that a vast and pregnant silence was taking the place of the
rasping and petty tumult of the city. Drawing a long breath
of satisfaction he reverently said: "If this stillness keeps on
growing at this rate it will soon be still enough to hear God."

Don recalled the hours he had spent in the still glades of
the wilderness, and responding to Bert's feelings, he replied:
"Perhaps you are hearing Him already?"

Just then a heavy battery of guns fired a salute in honor of
the Governor-General of Canada, and Bert was so annoyed by
the reverberations that he said reflectively: "We shall not
hear God till we get beyond the sound of those guns."

In preparation for the trip Don had stud'ed a map of the
surroundings of Boston. Having gone as fa as he thought
it was safe, he ran the boat into a little sandy bay and tied up
to >^ small wharf. Thence they wandered over the white beach
picking up shells and other marine curiosities. Then they
passed into a lane that led to the upland farms, gathering
many-hued pebbles as they went. Seeing a wide-spreading

AIR CASTLE DON

apple-tree witl in a fence close by a farm house, they asked
permission of the farmer to eat their dinner in the shade.

"Of course," said the farmer, cordially, "that apple tree is
just longing for someone to get under its shade. And speak-
ing to a rosy-faced girl of about twelve, he added, smilingly:
"Here, Doxy, get a half gallon of milk for these youngsters."

While the three were enjoying the rich fresh milk under
the tree, Nora said: "We never get such milk as this in the
city."

"No," Bert replied, "it gets so tired on the way to the city
that by the time it comes to the table it is too weak for any-
thing."

But for his ingrain courtesy Don would have assented
heartily to the remark, for all the milk he had seen since his
arrival among North Square boarding houses, so nearly
resembled the color of the sky, that fearing it was treated to
doses of washing blumg, he abstained from it altogether.

"Why, you drmk this milk, but you don't take any at
home," said Nora innocently.

"I am partial to cows," Don replied evasively, "and as this
milk must be quite near to them, I drink it for their sakes."

Nora looked at him so sharply, and blushed so vividly, that
he repented at once, and immediately proposed that they
should go into the woods after dinner.

When they asked the farmer's permission io go into the
wood-lot and gather ferns, he said: "Gather anything you
please; take a cart load of ferns if you can find them. You
are so polite and civil I am glad to see you enjoy yourselves."

When they returned from the lot he invited them into the
house, where the inmates brought them cool well water to
cleanse the soil from their hands, and Doxy gave them large
bunches of late flowers to take with them on their return.

they asked
lade.

pple tree is
And speak-
smilingly:
oungsters."
milk under
i this in the

' to the city
ak for any-

ve assented
:n since his
so nearly
p treated to
'gether.
ake any at

'and as this
;r sakes."
rividly, that
that they

ro into the
I'thing you
lem. You
ourselves."
m into the
1 water to
:hem large
etum.

AIK CASTLE DON

The wind being fair and strong the boat sped back to the
city like a bird on wing, and Bert after a prolonged silence
said: "This is the only whole day I have spent out of Boston
since I was two years old. You may talk about your Webster
day as the greatest day of your life, but this has been my
greatest day, and very much of it I owe to your knowledge
of the water and the country. Have you enjoyed it?"

"Yes," Don replied, "it has been like being home again;
and I have enjoyed it doubly because you and Nora were so
happy."

When the spoils of the day were arrayed upon the table
before the little mother, accompanied by the voluble com-
ments of her children the cloud of sadness and anxiety which
was almost habitual with her, disappeared entirely, so that for
the time being she looked as sunny as the children themselves.

"I didn't see a single keep-your-hands-off, nor a single
keep-off -the-grass sign while we were ashore," said Nora;
"and we have been so near Heaven all day long that we almost
tumbled in."

■f.

„...-..■„—, .■j.<A.^-..ii A «n A

i«i /K i9tAn

CHAPTER X.

Or,t) FAILINGS REVIVED.

The wholesome drudgery oi the store, and the not
unhealthy limitations of the attic had a tendency to keep Don
quite near the earth. He was compelled to sew on his own
buttons, mend his socks, repair his garments and contrive to
make his dollar margin cover the unexpected incidentals that
continually intruded themselves upon his calculations. He
was not only learning the value of small things, but the sacred-
ness of common obligations, as well. He paid his indebted-
ness to Bert, and was no less scrupulous in meeting his weekly
obligations to Mrs. Williams, for he knew that she, too, was
obliged to manage closely in order to make her income meet
her necessary expenditures.

Yet, practical and commonplace as were his surroundings,
his imagination refused to be hobbled, and his dreaming
machine was seldom out of repair. Several circumstances
combined to revive his old failing to such an extent as to
make it difficult for him to keep in thorough touch with every-
day life.

Colonel Wickworth was a great admirer of General
Winfield Scott. Well he might be, for it was under his com-
mand that he took part in the battles of Cerro Gordo, Con-
treras, Cherubusco, Chapultepec and Mexico; and he was with
the giant general when he captured Santa Anna, the wooden-
legged chief of the Mexican forces, and president of the Mexi-
can Republic.

"•^'iwlitlMl..

the not

keep Don

n his own

;ontrive to

entals that

ions. He

the sacred-

indebted-

his weekly

;, too, was

:ome meet

roundings,
dreaming
umstances
tent as to
nth every-

f General
■ his com-
rdo, Con-
: was with
! wooden-
the Mexi-

AIB CASTLE DON

The colonel was fond of recounting adventures, and when
business was slack he was not above entertaining the clerks
with stories of his experiences during the Mexican campaign.
These stories, coming as they did from a living hero, so stim-
ulated Don that when he returned to his attic he repeated them
to Bert, and dreamed of them so vividly that, not infrequently,
he engaged in mortal conflicts with his bedclothes.

One evening he entered Bert's room with far more conse-
quence than he had ever assumed as Grand Keyman of The
Lady of the Lake Club, and was no sooner seated than he said
with evident exultation: "A fine carriage with a liveried
coachman drove up to our curb this afternoon and landed two
men for our store. When I opened the door for them, one of
them, a magnificent giant of a fellow, asked for Colonel Wick-
worth. When I escorted them to the counting room they
made a sensation. The big man was General Winfield Scott,
and the other was General Caleb Gushing. You are always
boasting of the big writers who go to your store; now what
do you say to Scott and Gushing for big fish?"

"Say!" was the unabashed answer; "I say that the pen is
mightier than the sword. And when the fame of your gener-
als goes with the glitter of their swords and fades with the
gilding of their shoulder straps, the names of our authors will
still be shining like the stars. But I must congratulate you on
having seen two great men ; it is something to remember and
to be proud of."

"The idea of being under the same roof with them nearly
lifted me from my feet. I don't believe that you are half the
hero worshipper that I am. I'll admit that you! pen-men are
greater than my warriors, but the sight of them doesn't stir
the blood like the sight of such a man as General Scott, whose
deeds have been told to you by one who was a witness of
them."

^mm

P^:

AIR CASTLE DON

'"Well, I will frankly admit, that I should like to have been
in your store when those two men were there, for I always
feel as if great men are much greater than anything that can
be written about them. I am glad for the colonel's sake, that
they called upon him. Did they stay long?"

"No; they soon took the colonel with them, and all three
went away looking very much pleased. It must be a great
thing for old comrades in arms to get together again. It
means another treat for us at the store, for the colonel will be
sure to have some new incidents to tell the first chance he
can get."

Bert was obtaining a new insight into Don's character, and
respecting his hero worship tendencies, and hoping to afford
him a new pleasure, he said: "Don, suppose that we go to
Cambridge next Sunday and take a look at Longfellow's
house? Besides being the home of our greatest poet, you
know it was Washington's Headquarters during the revolu-
tionary war."

"That would be a delightful thing to do if it were right,"
Don replied.

"Right!" exclaimed Bert, with a start, he not having yel
learned the depth of his chum's old fashioned Sunday-keeping
notions. "You don't mean to intimate that while it is right
for us to go up to the Common on Sunday afternoon, it would
be wrong for us to go to Cambridge because it is a little more
distant than the Common? We have no other day for going,
and seeing that we propose to make it a patriotic pilgrimage,
I do not believe that God will split our heads for going.
Going will be as good as a sermon for you."

After some hesitation and no little conflict between his
desires and his convictions, Don consented to the proposal.
They reached Cambridge just as the morning congregations

iibimVh

"^r-T^-^-T-rr

AIR OASTLB DON

109

lave been

1 1 always

that can

sake, that

all three
J a great
gain. It
el will be
hance he

icter, and
to afford
v.'e go to
igfellow's
>oet, you
e revolu-

e right,"

ving yet
-keeping

is right
it would
tie more
r going,
rrimage,

going.

een his
roposal.
gations

came out of the churches. The streets were filled with people,
the sight of whom revived Don's scruples with such force that
he said to his companion: "I can't stand this! Let's take an
alley and get out of the crowd. The dust on our shoes and
trousers will make them think that we are a pair of regular
Sabbath-breakers."

"You poor, innocent, white-breasted bird! Hasn't your
conscience grown its skin yet?" Bert exclaimed, with some
annoyance. "We have no more reason to be ashamed of our-
selves than the people have for returning from the churches.
There is small danger of you falling into the bottomless pit
until you become a good deal wickeder than you are now.
Come along," And he pushed ahead so aggressively that
there was no alternative but for Don to follow.

Don's uncomfortable feelings were dissipated when he
reached the residence of the poet, an old, wooden-roomy house,
destitute of all architectural pretension, yet so grandly shaded
by elms and so beautifully fringed with shrubbery it made an
ideal poet's nest. While the boy-pilgrims stood outside of the
grounds reverently regarding the place made sacred by .so
many noble associations, the poet came down one of the walks
bareheaded, and, recognizing them, shook hands with them
and cordially invited them to roam over the place at :heir will.

Longfellow was below medium height, yet he was so broad
shouldered that he was commanding in his physical appear-
ance. He had a strikingly beautiful face, enlivened by deep
dark eyes which glimmered beneath his high brow and pro-
fusion of dark hair like lights from a great depth.

Bert explained their mission and offered excuses for taking
Sunday to execute it. "What other day could you take?" said
the poet in his low melodious tones, and showing his sympathy
with their desires. "Shop boys like you have scant time for

MHBMAicktfiM

104

AIR 0A8TLB DON

i.
I'

pilgrimages on week days. You are to be commended for
coming to see the house nade celebrated by the presence of
Washington. Come with me and I will show you Adhere he
planned the campaigns that led to the success of the revolution
and gave birth to a new nation."

Although they protested against intruding upon his privacy
he led them into the house and in the most unconstrained way
showed them Washington's room, and the relics connected
with his stay under the roof. Not content with showing them
over the house and more particularly through his study, he
pressed them to remain for luncheon. But seeing that" they
were embarrassed, and learning that they had their lunch with
them and that they had set their hearts upon eating it beneath
the shade of the Washington Elm, h; put on his hat and
showed them over the entire grounds.

His Evangeline was then fresh in the mind of the public.
Bert had a much prized copy of the poem which had been
presented to him by the poet himself not long brfore the time
of their visit. The scene of the story being laid in Nova Scotia,
Don had read it with great avidity, a fact which Bert made
known to the poet with no little pride.

Smiling with unaffected interest, Longfellow said: "Then
I have been entertaining an angel unawares — ^two of them in
fact. Perhaps I can learn something more about the wonder-
ful peninsula which has already engrossed so much of my
attention. There at the foot of that elm is a seat where I have
thought out not a few of my poems; let us sit there while we
talk of Nova Scotia."

He was acquainted with the personal history of Constance
La Tour, and her reckless and eccentric husband, and soon dis-
covered that Don knew much of the locality where they spent
a portion of their lives. With the eagerness of a child listen-

i'!' ir

ended for
■esence of
where he
evolution

is prnacy
lined way
:onnected
'ing them
study, he
that" they
inch with
t beneath
hat and

le public,
had been

■ the time
/a Scotia,
ert made

: "Then

■ them in
wonder-

h of my
re I have
while we

onstance
soon dis-
ey spent
!d listen-

:» •■■

;!i •

r*,-^ij:--fci^>r.-i: '■-'t*-.JKe«ttM5^y •♦iJ-

^^.'■j-.----:^r^,<7-vt'^^,^^^'i^lf^Smm^^^

AIR OASTLB DON

106

Jng to a fairy story, he listened to the description Don gave of
Port La Tour and the surrounding scenery.

"And so you have been a resident of Shelburne County?"
he said toward the close, "and you have doubtless seen Shel-
burne, the famous old shire town which has such a strangely
pathetic origin and history, The Ten Thousand Tory
Refugees who fled from the younp United States and carried
with them a thousand slaves and expended millions of money
with the intention of founding the metropolis of the new
empire, were a sadly disappointed people when, at the end of
two years they abandoned their little city to desolation, and,
impoverished and wretched, returned to their native land.
Some day some author will acquire fame by doing justice to a
story which, in many respects is more touching and eventful
than the story of Evangeline. Tell me how Shelburne looked
when you were last there?"

By asking many leading questions, he elicited from Don an
account of the long nine-mile landlocked harbor, and of the
wild country adjacent to it. And he was almost incredulous
when told that only a few of the old brick buildings remained,
and that even those were unoccupied and rapidly going to
decay. He was scarcely prepared to believe that such a
romantic beginning could end in such a bleak reality.

While on the way back to Boston, Don said with consider-
able feeling: "Well, I shall never forget the pilgrimage to
Longfellow's house; I could not have been better pleased if I had
been to Abbotsford and had seen Sir Walter Scott himself."

Bert was gratified to hear him speak with so much satis-
faction, but unable to restrain his native impishness, said:
"To make up for our wickedness, we shall have to go to
Father Taylor's this evening and get him to shrive our souls;
that is, if your conscience still troubles you."

-r-ntria'^Hrtft-sS-j?-

.,,, ■ ■■ „ ^ ^M f ii my ii y^y .

AIR OABTLB DON

"We will go to the Mariners' Rcthel to hear Father Taylor,
but Cambridge has tnadc no wounds of conscience that will
need doctoring by him. It would be just like him to pat us
on the back and call us good boys for going to see the poet.
Although he is as eccentric as old Peter Piper, he is as gentle
and as sensible as Longfellow himself."

Not long after the Cambridge pilgrimage, Don had another
experier which tended to exalt him to the upper regions.
The arrivf of the Swedish singer, Jf'nny Lind, who was then
at the height of her popularity, produced scenes of enthusiasm
in the country that have been rarely equalled. In the course
of her professional tour she visited Boston. She reached the
city in a driving rain storm, notwithstanding which, her innu-
merable admirers took the horses from her coach and drew her
from the depot to her hotel. From the Wickworth store Don
saw the crowd fill the street from curb to curb and as far up
and down its length as the eye could see. The colonel, unable
to restrain his enthusiasm, stepped to the door and shouted
with the rest till he was hoarse, and his example encouraged
Don to join in the tumult to the full measure of his noise-
making power.

As in New York, so in Boston, the first choice of tickets
rose to upwards of five hundred dollars for a single ticket.
This was not, however, so much a mark of appreciation as it
was a desire for notoriety on the part of the purchaser, who
belonged to that class of advertisers who would post their bills
on the throne of the Almighty if they could get near enough
to do it. Mid all tlie excitement P. T. Barnum, the Beelzebub
of advertisers, under whose auspices Miss Lind came to this
country, smiled serenely, and coolly measured the worth of
the prevailing epidemic by the number of dollars it added to
his already large fortune. •> ; ■ .

•') ' -iiiiii»'*y*^"-

Taylor,
>mt will

pat us
He poet.

gentle

AIR OABTLB DON

107

When Bert reached the attic on the evening of the concert,
he was as insane as everybody else and ho proposed that Don
and he should join the nniltitudc of people that would be sure
to gather around Fitchburg Hall, where the concert was to be
given.

"If we cannot afford to pay five hundred dollars for a ticket
we may be able to steal a few notes of her singing," said he,
"if we '•-1 get near enough to the hall to catch what comes
through the windows."

When they reached the hall the streets were packed with a
struggling mass of humanity, but notwithstanding this the
boys managed at no small risk of their limbs to get within a
few steps of the great railway hall. Their wrath waxed hot
when they found that Barnum, in order to prevent Jenny Lir;d
from being heard in the streets, had ordered that every window
in the building should be kept closed. Many in the crowd
shared in their indignation and four young men standing near
Don and Bert picked missiles from the street and showered
them through the windows. The rash act would have pro-
duced a serious panic within the building had not Jenny Lind,
with great presence of mind, counteracted the terror by begin-
ning one of her most captivating songs. But the mischief
makers had accomplished their aim, for through the broken
windows her singing came clear and strong to the infinite
delight of the outsiders, who applauded and encored her with
as much enthusiasm as those within the hall.

Bert recounted the incident with great satisfaction to his
mother. "When," said he, "Barnum becomes so selfish and
mean that he is ready to smother an audience in foul air for
the sake of preventing the music from leaking out of the build-
ing, it is rime for Boston people to show what sort of stuff
they are made of. The fellows who broke those windows

• '^'"WWJWf'^BI^'W^BRSWf* .

106

AIR 0A8TLB DON

i.-.

must have been desccndrntd of tliose who threw the tea into
the harbor. But yon ought to have heard her sing! No one
can sing like inat unless she has a good deal of the angel in
her." •

Father Taylor had been signally kind to Swedish sailors,
and Jenny Lind had become aware of the fact. She showed
her gratitude for his attention to her countrymen by sending
a liberal contribution for his work, and by attending his ser-
vice the Sunday morning following the concert. The Mar-
iners' Bethel was but a few steps from the widow's dwelling,
and Don, in company with the family, was present. It having
become known before the close of the service that Jenny Lind
was among the worshippers, several Swedes, when the congre-
gation was dismissed, pressed forward to pay their respects
to their distinguished countrywoman. The example became
contagious, and among the first to shake hands with her were
Don and Bert, who were smilingly received, and graciously
commended for being in the House of God.

Although Jenny Lind would not be called a beautiful
woman, Bert, on returning to the house, had much to say
about her golden hair and deep blue eyes, her pretty lips and
pearly teeth, her fresh complexion and graceful b'^aring. Don
was chiefly impressed by her amiability, and with an ardor that
equalled Bert's, he declared that she looked like an angel who
was not more than twenty-four hours from Heaven.

Such praises as these were altogether too strong for Nora's
patience, and pouting her lips, she said with a touch of femin-
ine jealousy: "Then why does she let Barnum make such an
elephant of her?"

With such a little Miss Daniel as this come to judgment
there was nothing more to be said in her presence, and the
boys fled to their attic, where they could worship their new
divinity to their hearts' content.

tea into

No one

angel in

sailors,
showed
sending
Ills scr-
le Mar-
welling,
t having
ny Lind
congre-
respects
became
ler were
aciously

>eautiful
to say
lips and
. Don
lor that
fel who

Nora's
femin-
uch an

Igment
nd the
ir new

CHAPTER XI.

DKBP WATSR SOUNDINGS.

Colonel Wickwor*' was a bachelor. That a man of means,
old enough to know iiis mind, and one who had worn shoulder
straps upon real battlefields, should be single, was one of the
things that Don could not satisfactorily fathom. True, the
colonel was as homely as a ram's horn, but Don knew that
that of itself was no bar to matrimony, for he had known
instances where the homeliest of men had taken their pick
from the handsomest of women. As for himi;elf, he loved the
colonel, not for his looks, but for his qualities, and he saw no
reason why some of the surplus female population of Boston
should not exercise the same discrimi:iation.

He knew that the colonel, so far from being in favor of the
abolition of the gentle sex, had in his hearing expressed his
profound respect and admiration for all womankind, including
Eve, notwithstanding she had been so long dead. He was,
indeed, a firm believer in matrimony, and believed with Solo-
mon that he who iindeth a wife, finds a good thing. Don had
also heard the colonel say that families were good "things,"
and he thought that, notwithstanding boys and girls were so
common, they were the most wonderful "things" under the
sun.

Boys and girls who knew the colonel knew that he was a
perfect love of a man. The colonel's young relatives not infre-
quently dropped into the store just for the sake of getting a

(109)

■

110

AIR CASTLE DON

look at him; and one mite cf a niece, after receiving a box of
bon-bons from the ex-soldier, testified in confidence to Don
that her dear old uncle was as good r.s anybody that ever went
to Heaven, or came from it, either, for that matter.

Then, why was he single? Ah, Don, you would have saved
yourself needless worry if you had said: "He remains single
because he doesn't want to become double." That would have
been the simplest solution.

Colonel Wickworth had become much attached to Don,
and he showed his liking by giving him tickets to concerts,
lectures, first class theatrical entertainments, and — circuses,
also. Liking Bert almost as well as he did Don, it invariably
happened that, although he kept himself single, he made his
tickets double so that the juvenile Damon might have the com-
pany of his juvenile Pythias. The colonel's wits were as
bright as his sword, and he knew that these two birds of a
feather would be happiest together.

The colonel was an intimate friend and a faithful parish-
ioner of Theodore Parker, at that time the most celebrated
preacher in Boston, or New England. It must, however, be
confessed that one reason why the colonel stuck to this
preacher was because the preacher obstinately stuck to himself.
That is to say, he would not let other people do his thinking
for him, nor cut his thread to suit their stitches instead of his
own, and consequently he was the best abused man of his day.

Desiring that Don should sharpen his wits by rubbing
them on Parker's whetstone, one Saturday afternoon he said
to him: "If you and Bert will come to my church to-morrow
morning, you shall sit with me, and after service 1 will intro-
duce you to the greatest man in the United States."

It so happened that the fame of this preacher had reached
to Barrington itself, notwithstanding it was so far from ♦•!?

a box of
to Don
;ver went

ive saved
ns single
Juld have

to Don,
concerts,
circuses,
ivariably
iiade his
the corn-
were as
irds of a

I parish-
!lebrated
ever, be
to this
himself,
hinking
d of his
his day.
rubbing
he said
norrow
I intro-

■eached

jm t':;

AIR GASTLB DON

111

maddening haunts of men — so remote from Boston, that nest
of notions, and "hub of the universe." Even Peter Piper had
heard so much about the man and his heresies that the barest
mention of his name stirred all his pickled peppers to their
profoundest depths.

Don's father not only preached in favor of what he believed,
but also against what he didn't believe, and with the oddest
effect sometimes. For instance. He once denounced card
playing with so much graphic detail that Don and one of his
companions straightway bought a pack of cards and hiding
themselves in a hay mow tried to solve the mystery of the
iniquity hidden in the game. But so many compunctions
interfered with their use of the forbidden fruit that, becoming
afraid of the pasteboards they concealed them in the long grass
growing at the foot of a headstone in the village graveyard.
Here the sexton found them while digging a grave near by,
and his horror was intensified by the knowledge of the fact that
the man whose remains crumbled beneath the sod, was, during
his mortal life, the latter part of it at least, a confirmed card-
player. The sexton burned the pack to ashes and scattered
the ashes to the wind. Don's father was informed of the find-
ing, and as he was ignorant of the offenders, he aimed another
columbiad of a sermon against the particular devils that went
about in pasteboard suits and disguises.

The denunciation of Theodre Parker from the village pul-
pits made Don familiar with his name and his particular fame,
and begot a strong desire to hear and see him. He scarcely
knew what a heretic was, yet, having read Fox's Book of
Martyrs when he was lying sick of the scarlet fever, he had the
impression that heretics made good kindling wood for those
who kept themselves warm by making it hot for others.

When, therefore, the colonel invited him to hear Parker,

112

AIR GASTLB DON

he was eager to improve his opportunity. The distance
between him and his father's pulpit was equivalent to the con-
cealment afforded by a barn and a mow of hay. He wanted
to drop his lead into the sea of Parkerism for the sake of
finding where the bottom was.

The Maeonion congregation astonished him; it was
immense, and was composed chiefly of young men. Parker
astonished him also. He almost expected to see horns sur-
mounting his high brow and peeping above his blue eyes from
among the blonde hair that thickly covered his stately head.
Although the speaker's voice was so richly melodious, and his
words so glowingly eloquent and pervasively sympathetic, Don
vigilantly watched for something wicked. He v/as fain to
confess, however, that this devil, at least, had been painted
blacker than he really was. His prayers were not alien to the
Lord's Prayer, nor his sentiments, to the Sermon on the
Mount. Yet notwithstanding the flash of glittering wings
which took the place of diabolical horns, Don grew uneasy to
' 'link that he was getting in such an awful place as the Maeon-
ion and listening to such an awful man as Parker was reputed
to be.

Being as good as his word the colonel introduced the two
boys to his pastor and friend at the close of the service. And
to the utter confusion of all of Don's preconceived notions and
opinions of the man, Theodore Parker insistently invited the
boys to visit his home for the purpose of enjoying a sight of
his great library of rare works, and still more valuable collec-
tion of curios and famous works of art. That invitation the
boys subsequently accepted to their great satisfaction and
profit.

An immediate reckoning, however, followed upon their
morning's misdemeanor. When they reached home, Nora,

■ 91 '.1

distance
the con-
wanted
sake of

it was
• Parker
lorns sur-
eyes from
tely head,
s, and his
letic, Don
s fain to
n painted
ien to the
n on the
rag wings
uneasy to
e Maeon-
s reputed

I the two
ce. And
tions and
vited the
sight of
e collec-
ition the
ion and

5n their
!, Nora,

AIR OASTLB DON

who had almost tearfully protested against the sin of going to
hear such a heretic, met them with withering reproaches
which, during their absence she had carefully and piously
framed in exact scripti;ral phraseology for greater effect.
Being an orthodox little soul, she believed that no one could
come in contact with pitch • without being defiled. She felt
convinced that the boys had been actually bathing in a sea of
pitch and that, therefore, to use the words used concerning
Noah's Ark, they were "pitched both within and without."

Instead of being cast down by her onslaught, the boys
began to praise the preaching of the man against whose influ-
ence she had warned them with so much zeal. Not content
with this, they declared that they would take her with them to
the same place on the following Sunday and allow her to judge
of the preaching for herself. She was so visibly agitated by
this hardness of heart, which served to confirm her worst
apprehensions, that Bert caught her in his arms and vainly
attempted to kiss away her tears and her fears.

The distress of the little saint was so unequivocally mani-
fested that it aroused Don's conscience as effectually as it was
aroused on the occasion of his first and — last game of cards.
He could not, however, hide his tiansgression as easily as he
hid the cards, and therefore he did the next best thing, he hid
himself in his attic, where Bert soon joined him, glad to escape
from Nora's accusing; eyes and tongue.

"That sister of mine is a nuisance!" said Bert, although
there was not enough annoyance revealed in his manner to
give the proper emphasis to his words. "She would make a
regular John the Baptist of me before I could say Jack Robin-
son, if I would let her. I don't believe it's right for a mere
gallon of a girl to be carting around a barrelfull of goodness.
She's got it into her head that Parker is a Philistine of the

-■-|

Iistines — a
though her heart is naturally as tender as a ripe peach, I
beheve she'd pray Parker into his grave before to-morrow
night if she could."

"She is a brick, or rather what Saint Pau' would call a
'lively stone'," said Don, sharply, in her defense; "and if I
were a man, and she were a woman, and I knew how to make
love, I would ask her to marry me before I went to sleep."

"Marry you!" exclaimed Bert, at the same time laughing
at the blush that mantled Don's cheek at the mere mention of
love. "Marry you! A precious team you would make; you,
with your scruples of conscience, and she, with her piles of
bigotry."

A tap at the door interrupting further comment, Bert
admitted Nora, remarking pertinently: "Mention the angels
and you will hear the rustling of their wings."

"That doesn't apply to me," she replied penitently, yet not
daring to say the other half of the proverb lest the mentioning
involved should provoke some fresh freak of mischief.

She had Saturday's paper with her, and from it read a
notice of a public meeting to be held in Faneuil Hall on Mon-
day evening. Boston was in a ferment over city corruptions
which were aided and indirectly abetted by the city fathers.
The notice called for the friends of municipal righteousness to
assemble in force for the voicing of their indignation. This
little wisp of a woman — meaning Nora — had a penchant for
righteous indignation of any kind, and glad to find something
that would serve as a compromise between her and the boys,
she smilingly said : "I will forgive you for going to the Mae-
onion this morning if you will go to Faneuil Hall to-morrow
night. I know that you will go, for the paper says that Alder-

■aa**

naiai

ilifil An

i'ii»i«irii-i)tiiitr''i

less. And,

»e peach, I

to-morrow

culd call a
"and if I
3w to make
) sleep."
le laughing
mention of
make; you,
ler piles of

ment, Bert
the angels

Itly, yet not
mentioning
ief.

1 it read a
ill on Mon-
:orruptions
ity fathers.
:ousness to
tion. This
inchant for
something
i the boys,
the Mae-
to-morrow
that Alder-

TOWP'

| l. i > ' W^." i

■w-^wn— ^ ' it ri'ii'Sf g I ► WW u ■ *, V Ht M ilff^!^

AIR CASTLE DON

115

man Lammels — the man you hate so much — declares that he
will be on hand with a crowd to break up the meeting."

Bert clapped his hands, saying: "Our forgiveness is
already assured, for Don and I made up our minds last night
that we would go to that meeting to see the fun."

"The fun!" she exclaimed indignantly; "if that is all you
go for you would better stay at home."

"We are going for righteousness sake," said Don, more
diplomatically.

"That sounds better. You care more for the right than
you do for the fun, while Bert is just the other way," she said,
at the same time beaming her approval upon Don so warmly
that he became roundly ashamed because his motives did not
reach to the height of his words.

Don had long desired to see the inside of the Cradle of
Liberty, as Faneuil Hall is called, because of its connection
with the exciting events of the nation's earliest history, and
because in it were first heard so many of the inspiring senti-
ments which subsequently became embodied in the nation's
destiny. He now had an opportunity of seeing the hall when
it was filled with a characteristic Boston public meeting. The
fact that Colonel Wickworth was already named as the chair-
man of the meeting increased the boys' interest in the proposed
gathering. With an old soldier in the chair there would be
little danger to be apprehended from rowdies on the floor.

When Peter Faneuil gave the hall that bears his name to
Boston, it was intended that the lower part should be used as
a market for meats for the body, and the upper for meats for
the mind. The two objects have never been lost sight of, and
consequently the building, though large, is a two-storied piece
of architecture so severely square and plain that nobody would
ever think of going into ecstasies over it.

116

AIR CASTLE DON

The interior is as plain as the exterior, with galleries
extending around three sides, and supported by pillars that are
more substantial than beautiful. The main floor provides only
for standing room, although ascending tiers at the sides enable
occupants to look over one anothers' heads.

On entering the hall, jvhich was then about two-thirds full,
Don immediately became interested in the numerous old por-
traits hanging upon the wall in the rear of the platform. They
said as plainly as paint and oil could make them say it:
"Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty."

When the colonel mounted the platform he saw the boys
standing at the foot, and immediately ordered them to seats
back of his chair, where they would be safe from the crush of
the crowd which by this time had packed the hall to over-
flowing.

When Marshal Tukey, the speaker and hero of the evening,
arose to speak, the tumult that greeted him indicated strongly
and violently opposing forces.

The speaker was a "character." Once a great gambler and
a notoriously fast man, he had turned squarely from his evil
ways and had so commended himself to the confidence of the
public that he became the city marshal. Having been a great
rogue himself, he was well versed in the art of catching rogues,
as the police authorities of all the great cities well knew. But
his zeal for rogue- catching outran the support of the city
fathers who, while they admitted that law was designed for the
suppression of crime, were not willing to assume the respon-
sibility of executing it. Hence Tukey was discharged, and
consequently righteous Boston — including many sinners —
was up in arms, and Tukey was there in Faneuil Hall to
inflame their righteousness to greater intensity by making hot
revelations of official corruptions.

1^, ^lJ ■' V,^J,j, ' .^V »| J^,w^ l . | " ii jPjLJ.j i L j i J i .» i<<» jl , ii,ia iw m,.| ,H.l'i i ._ ,^^!ui.i^ ■ f m I II n. » I .IW I .. . . 1 . 1 n I I II us i M r,^

galleries

s that are

vkXts, only

es enable

birds full,
5 old por-
in. They
n say it:

the boys
1 to seats
: crush of

to over-

: evening,
1 strongly

mbler and
n his evil
ice of the
!n a great
g rogues,
ew. But

the city
;d for the
e respon-
ged, and
sinners —

Hall to
iking hot

AIR OA«<TLB DON

117

Tall and erect, thin and lithe, with the eye of an eagle and
the nose of a Roman, and a smooth face and a heavy dark
poll; a notable figure and a portentous prophet, he stood the
observed of all observers. At the first his velvety tones and
suave bearing acted soothingly upon the conflicting elements
in the assembly. But presently, when his charges rose to the
character of an indictment, his voice rang with the resonance
of a trumpet.

Lammels was there, according to his threat, and several
other aldermen were with him backed up by the worst element
that could be gathered from the quagmires of the population.
They had nothing to fear from the police because, according
to a preconcerted plan, they were instructed to keep at a dis-
tance. Aware of the whole conspiracy, the colonel passed the
word for the members of his old regiment, of whom there were
not a few in the city, to be on hand for an emergency. The
enemies of the meeting were massed in the rear of the hall;
the veterans and the speaker's friends gathered in a compact
mass around the platform and in the center of the hall.

At a moment when Tukey was describing the city govern-
ment as the great red dragon with seven heads, ten horns and
seven crowns, and was aggravating the comparison by speak-
ing of the city as being in the possession of seven devils, mean-
ing Lammels and six of his confederates, trouble came like
a tornado.

Lammels shouted: "Down with Tukey! Clean out the
platform!"

The colonel, now in his element, stepped forward and
thundered: "Charge, boys! Down with the enemies of free
speech !"

Electrified by the colonel's call, Don and Bert plunged
from the platform to the floor by flying leaps, and the next

; .

^Mfili

i p ^y w •' ' v ^' f. 7- y

'* v;

118

AIR 0A8TLB DON

instant were battlin^^* by the side of the veterans in the very
thickest of the fray. Getting near to Lammels, Don in front
and Bert in the rear, one would punch him in his fat ab<lomcn,
while the other improved the opportunity to knock his hat over
his eyes ; the wedge of veterans the while steadily driving him
and his forces toward the door with an impetus that would
have pushed the wall out if it had struck it fairly.

The hall was now clear, and the speaking went on without
further disturbance, although during the riot serious blows
had been given and taken.

When the boys reached home they looked as though they
had just been dropped from the talons of a western whirlwind.

"Here are your for-righteousness-sake champions," said
Bert, dolefully rubbing his bruised shins and exhibiting the
rents made in his and Don's garments during the riot.

"Good gracious, boys! What has happened to you?"
exclaimed Nora, in alarm. "Did vou fall into the hands of
ail Ann street mob on the way home?"

"No, not on the way hotne, but while we were in your con-
founded Faneflil Hall meeting!" Bert replied.

"We were rocked in The Cradle of Liberty, according to
our contract with you." said Don. "But I can assure you that
Avc didn't go to sleep while being rocked. If this is a speci-
men of the meetings you would send us to by way of squaring
for going to hear Theodore Parker, I'll hear no more Parkers
while the world stands."

"But it was just glorious!" Bert interrupted, reviving at
the recollection of their victory. "We routed Lammels and
his mob, horse, foot and dragoons, and then went to the plat-
form and listened to Tukey to the finish."

When Don reached the store the next morning wearing
a long scratch on the right side of his forehead, the colonel

wniM iii i m ffftm^immmmi^^'m

<W"if(""iP!P«l|P*fPlW"*PP"*'"'"^>"

Am 0A8TLHS DON

•11^

grimly asked: "Well, my boy, how do you like our Boston
School of Oratory?"

"The oratory is all right, but isn't the price of tuition rather
high?" was the reply. "Do you always have a fight when you
hold meetings in Far.euil Hall?"

"Not always; but we like to make a good job of it when
liberty of speech is involved, just as we did last night. That
was your first battle for freedom, and you deserve a shoulder
strap— both you and Bert— for the way you lammed Lam-
mels." And the colonel turned away chuckling deeply.

£^ <ii^':ki^-^£ .

t-M

■I

4 ■

TT"

II J ii

»i ^*iiiit

' ,' V'

CHAPTER XII.

ADRIKT AGAIN.

Miss Arabella Belinda Agincourt, whom Don so madly
worshipped for a week, did not mean to be either a Medusa or
a Pandora. That is to say, she did not mean to adopt the
methods of those fabled goddesses of mythology, such as wear-
ing serpents on her head or gossipping about with a box of
evils in her hand. Nevertheless she proved a viper to Don's
interests and a box of plagues to his reputation.

She was a near relative of the Wickworths, and occasion-
ally made a visit — a friendly call to their counting room. She
seldom took much notice of Don, save to talk about him
behind his back to both the deacon and the colonel. There
was nothing designedly malicious about her tittle-tattle,
although she was always more or less contemptuour in her
allusions to him. Her invidious remarks were based entirely
upon the fact that he had descended from the glories of the
Covert boarding house and had condescended to accept shelter
under the widow's roof. To every depth there is a lower deep.
There were not a few whose noses grew tip-tilted at the men-
tion of the Covert domicile, and it was doubtless by way of
self compensation that the venerably beauteous maid turned
up her nose at Mrs. William's boarding house.

Dispositions like hers are tinder boxes or lucifer matches
— parlor or otherwise^-of dire possibilities. More accurately

(lao)

ii|i| j i y| iii ,, i ii i|p i.. ffffiiw>yi

so madly
Medusa or
adopt the
1 as wear-
a box of
to Don's

occasion-
•om. She
bout him
:1. There
ttle-tattle,
ur in her
d entirely
ies of the
!pt shelter
wer deep,
the men-
ly way of
id turned

■ matches
iccurately

n«P

Am CASTLE DON

mfimm'

Speaking, they are like old rafi^s whicli manifest an inscrutable
tendency to spontaneous combustion, and all the consequences
connected therewith.

From the vantage ground of her third story windows she
commanded a full view of the Square; nor was she above
observing, so far as she could, what was going on in the neigh-
boring buildings. She was descended from Kvc, and why
should she not indulge her curiosity, especially when she had
so much spare time on hand? The widow's house was withiij
range, and using her opera glass one Sunday she saw Don
leaning over the edge of one of the front attic windows of the
piemises. She saw him several times afterward in the same
position, and therefore concluded that he boarded as an attic
boarder. She did not intend to commit an Irish bull, yet she
virtually said to herself: "The higher he goes the lower he
gets."

In one of her visits at the Wickworth counting room she
made it her business to say: "Your Donalds boy cannot be of
much account, for I have discovered that he lives in an attic."

"I do not see how that can be, for I pay three dollars and
a half a week for his board, and that amount ought to secure
decent quarters for him," said the deacon, much surprised.

"Then you are being deceived," said Miss Agincourt
severely; "the widow certainly would not have the brass to
charge him that amount. At our place those who occupy the
attics are charged only three-quarter prices." When she left
the counting room, to make her insinuations more effective,
she cautioned her uncle against being imposed upon by an
unprincipled stripling, and went her way flattering herself that
she had done a very laudable stroke of business.

The deacon's high regard for morals led him to lament the
sad degeneracy of the modern boy; and his equally high

122

AIR OASTLB DON

, tmi

ri'j^arfl for liin own interests made him chuckle to think that he
should he al)le to make a weekly saving on Don's hoard bill.

On Saturday night he bluntly asked: "Don, what do you
pay for hoard?"

Don frankly said that he was paying two dollars and a half,
and he supposed that, as a matter of course, his management
of his finances would b»* seen in its true light and meet with the
approval of his cmployti*.

The boy was thunderstruck w'len the deacon coolly handed
him two dollars and a half, at the same time saying that there-
after only that amount would if allowed him for board, but
his indignation was aroused when the deacon accused him of
lying, and added insult to injury by reading him a long lecture
on the evil and danger of falsehood. Don fearlessly defended
himself and referred the deacon to the original conversation
with Bert Williams by which the board question was settled
without his having had any part in it, and he explained the
plan of self denial and economy by which he had enabled him-
self to keep himself in decent condition for the store. The
more he defended himself the more firmly convinced the dea-
con became of the total depravity of boys in general and of
Don and Bert in particular.

Colonel Wickworth easily understood the whole arrange-
ment, and maintained that Don ought to be commended and
not condemned, and that he ought to continue to receive the
amount that had been allowed him.

But there were Arabella's suspicions of deliberate con-
sj iracy between the two boys, and the deacon referred to them
as if they were facts sworn to and confirmed.

The colonel, becoming impatient at the mention of his
niece's connection with the affair, said: "I'o weight should
be given to Arabella's guesses; she has nothing to do but to

AIR 0A8TLB DON

P*"

128

mmmm

imagine evil of mankind, and it in n piece of cruel impertin-
ence for her to peddle her conjectures to you for facts."

The elder WickwortH defended the niece, and the alterca-
tion began to wax warm; the deacon whined and the colonel
swore. But finally the deacon, shedding his meekness, as a
snake sheds its overworn and lack-lustre skin, plainly inti-
mated that if the colonel could not assent to his chief manage-
ment of the firm's affairs, he might get out of it as soon as he
pleased.

■ During the wrangle Don's indignation increased to a white
heat, and at the first interval in the war .of words he faced the
deacon squarely, saying: "I wouldn't remain in your employ
for any consideration whatever." Suiting the action to the
word, he left the counting room.

"Do you really mean to leave?" asked the colonel, follow-
ing him to the outer room.

"Yes, sir," said Don firmly; "I am as good as called a liar
and a thief by your brother, and I'd starve before I'd stay
imder the same roof with such a defamer. But you have been
very kind to me and I am sorry to be deprived of your watch-
care and instruction."

"I do not blame you for your decision; you could do no
less," said the colonel. If at any time you want a friend, come
to me without delay or hesitation." And as he shook hands
with Don he gave him a crisp ten dollar bill out of his own
private resources.

Don felt as if the world had suddenly dropped from
beneath his feet. He shut himself up in his attic, and, unmind-
ful of the tea bell, sat like one in a dream. Bert entered to
see why he did not go down. Don, too much humiliated to
confide in his friend at that moment, pleaded lack of appetite,
and was left alone. ' 'f

:;i

124

AIR GASTLtQ DON

Don felt as if he had been stripped of his character, and if
he had been stripped of his clothing and turned naked upon
the street he could not have felt worse. His honor and ver-
aci'cv had been as the apple of his eye, and hitherto they had
never been assailed. His sensitive imagination became mor-
bidly apprehensive, and he feared that the evil reputation fast-
ened upon him by the deacon would follow lim in his attempts
to find another situation in Boston. He thought of returning
home, but on second thought, disdained the expedient as trea-
son to his courage. He was quickly impulsive in formirtg
plans, too much so for his own good, and he resolved forth-
with upon what he would do. He had fourteen dollars and
he would start for some city in the West and begin anew. No
sooner was this plan formed than hope smiled upon him again,
and he was in a measure prevented from inflaming his wound
by thinking too intently of it. In the midst of his projects
there was a tap at his door. Bert and Nora entered, and
immediately began to prepare his little attic table with food and
delicacies drawn from the best supplies the house afforded.

Don protested against the trouble being taken on his
account, yet, now that hope had reasserted itself, he availed
himself of their kindness and ate the food with relish.

"What is the matter with you? Has anything happened?"
Bert anxiously asked, beginning to see that Don's trouble,
whatever it was, was mental rather than physical.

"I am adrift again," was the answer. Then in the midst
of their exclamations, and in anticipation of their inquiries he
told what had happened from the time of Miss Agincourt's
appearance on the scene to his own disappearance from it.

"The miserable old busybody!" exclaimed Nora, fixing
upon Miss Agincourt the blame of the whole misfortune.

"The hypocritical old punkinhead!" said Bert, laying all

iiiiiii'iftri

iiliitV'ftri

•AmiikU.

r^V'- ''"w^^'^,;.'::-'

ter, and if
iked upon
r and ver-
they had
:ame mor-
al ion fast-
s attempts
returning
nt as trea-
formirtg
ved forth-
ollars and
new. No
lim again,
lis wound
s projects
tered, and
i food and
'orded.
:n on his
le availed
I.

ippened?"
s trouble,

the midst
juiries he
jincourt's
om it.
•a, fixing
une.
ayiiig all

.lilDUJIWH"

AIR GASTLE DON

'ilM f iiyW'ln i . j i y. i ii < w*»i 9j» ! "p ! i' !i» U> i .i *| «> pl i

125

the blame upon the deacon. Then suddenly recollecting his
own participation in the three dollar and a half arrangement
he was overwhelmed with confusion and self accusations, and
expressed himself accordingly, and assumed most of the blame.

"It is all owing to my stupid blundering," he said remorse-
fully, "and I will see the deacon the first thing in the morning
and make explanations that will more than satisfy him."

"It will be of no use," said Don, decidedly. "When a man
dandles a suspicion as a woman does a baby, you might ar well
try to rob a woman of her baby as to try to remove the
suspicion from the man's mind. Besides, the deacon mounted
his pious, white horse as if he had put on the whole armor of
righteousness, and right or wrong, when a man gets up in
that style, nothing short of a cannon shot can bring him down
again."

"I'll fire the shot that'll fetch him," Bert said quickly, con-
fident in the justice of his cause.

"You haven't got a g^in that's bfg enough for that. No
explanations will avail with him. I gave him all that were
needed. That whole transaction about the board bill was a
fair and square transaction. Instead of calling me a deceiver
and a liar, if he had had a soul in him big enough to put in the
hollow of a hair, he would have commended me. And that
is all there is to it. The colonel has a soul bigger than a
steeple; he stood by me, and quarrelled with the deacon on
my account, and gave me ten dollars out of his own pocket
when I left the store. If he were at the head of the cor:ern,
there would have been no fuss. As it is, nothing will induce
me to go back there again."

Bert saw that no praying to Don would remove the moun-
tain, and he at once bethought himself of the next best measure
of relief. "Well," he said, hopefully, "the colonel will recom-

-.rc.*»-^v-'V-T

^«^:^.;,,7- -.^ ~ »^. ^^/^T'/'l^-'^V"'".'^"'!^-*

196

AIR OASTLB DON

mend you from the crown of your head to the soles of your
feet, and if people get wind of the real facts of the case they'll
be feathers in your cap, and a fool's cap for the deacon.

With the premature wisdom that is born of a too early
experience of the harshness of the world, Don replied : "The
colonel is my friend, yet, notwithstanding that, a blot has been
put upon my name, and lies travel leagues before truth can put
on its boots. 'A good name is rather to be chosen than great
riches, and loving favor rather than silver and gold.' And I
am going somewhere else to see if I can't recover what I
have lost."

"But you are making mountains out of molehills," oLjected
Bert, practically, beginning to see that Don was over sensitive.
"You haven't lost your good name, and, what is better, you
have the satisfaction of knowing that you are in the right.
It is that old blubber-belted whale that's in the wrong."

"And if that old maid Agincourt were here," added Nora,
"she'd get enough of my tongue to make her think she had
been licked by Spanish flies." Then suddenly changing from
her irate tones to her habitually persuasive voice, she said:
"You won't leave us, will you?"

"Of course he won't," Bert answered. "Do you suppose
that he would turn his back upon all our Boston gods and
notions and go where there are only scrub people atUi ujtions
and no excitements worth noticing?"

But Nora was not pleased with this reference to inf .tt' ac-
tions of Boston; they excluded all recognition of her own.
What she most desired to know at this moment was, whether
or no Don would weigh her in the scales and find her of
sufficient weight to decide him against leaving the city. She
looked her thoughts so plainly, that Don, now that separation
was decided upon, experienced pangs he had not felt before.

fpypwyig w^ igw-iii.'.iyj p i ^gt'f .^■ ■ '.','".-M- '• ' J'JWVJ-I ' 1. P* ' * ' w ' !^if*f>^*n

" i .i'^^ ' f^ ' w yr f.fj l^

es of your
ase they'll
on.

too early
ed: "The
t has been
th can put
than great
.' And I
er what I

" oLjected
sensitive,
etter, you
the right.
>ng."

ded Nora,
k she had
?ing from
she said:

I suppose
gods and
M iJjHons

he iilt' ac-
her own.
, whether
d her of
ity. She
:paration
t before.

AIB OASTLB DON

127

"You have been such a good little angel to me, Nora," he
said, "that it will be very hard for me to go away from you."

"But you won't go," she persisted.

"Yes," he replied with the simple directness that befitted
the fixity of his purpose.

"Where are you going?" arked Bert, becoming thoroughly
alarmed at the bare idea of losing his attic rhum and tried
street companion.

"Out West."

"Out thunderation!" Bert gasped in desperation. "Out to
Chicago, I suppose, to see the Indian and the buffalo, and*to
prowl among the prairie dogs and wolves and rattle snakes.
Out there! where people die by tornadoes and whirlwinds, or
are frozen stiff by blizzards in the winter or are roasted to a
crisp by a broiling sun in summer. There! where the men
wear home-made trousers and the women have coal-scuttle
bonnets, and where the school houses and churches are built
of logs or mud, and Bibles, books and paintings are scarcer
than hens' teeth. Go out there! where there isn't a solitary
great man, nor so much as one famous woman, nor an idea
that's big enough to cover the point of a pin, and where the
best church members are worse than the worst sinners of the
East, and Heaven is a million miles away, and the other place
so close by that it crops out at the surface." And drawing
partly from his prejudices against the West, and still more
from his ignorance, and most of all, from the crude notions
that so many Eastern people had of Western conditions, Bert
said worse things than are here set down.

It so happened that Barry, the artist mentioned in a former
chapter, having been in Chicago, had given Don quite accurate
accounts of the West in general, and of Chicago in particular,
so that the country boy was far better acquainted with the now

• 'I

'y<V;r ')^\ s5- v?*'''lf?<'

128

AIB CASTLE DON

acknowledged metropolis of the West than was the Boston boy
with all his superior advantages.

Supposing that Bert was indulging in mere sarcasm, Don
cut the tirade short by saying: "No, Chicago is not in view
yet ; my out West only means Albany. From there I hope in
the course of time to work my way beyond the Mississippi."

"Really?" Bert asked with a sinking heart.

"Yes, really, Bert. I shall start for Albany day after
to-morrow."

Nora, now in tears, hastened down stairs for her mother,
and presently brought her up to remonstrate with Don, who,
however, was not to be moved from his p' rpose.

Bert immediately began to adjust himself to the inevitable,
and on the following evening handed Don a note, saying by
way of explanation: "I saw the colonel privately this after-
noon. He says that you did right in determining not to
remain in the store after what had taken place, but thinks that
you are acting rashly in leaving Boston so hastily. He
brought the note over to me just before I started for home,
and I suppose that it contains a recommendation for which
I asked."

The note embodied the substance of what had been said to
Bert, and enclosed just such a testimonial as might be
expected from the soldierly man who wrote it. At twelve
o'clock on the succeeding day Don reluctantly parted from his
North Square friends and boarded the cars for Albany.

oston boy

mi-wmrmmmm^

I mm II 1 1 II I II H I I I M y i ju mijuyyii

^ Wfc i il>iiii»*i rt< w » iiiMi > ^""^

asm, Don
)t in view
I hope in
ssissippi."

day after

r mother,
)on, who,

nevitable,
iaying by
his after-
g not to
links that
tily. He
or home,
or which

n said to
night be
it twelve
from his

CHAPTER XHI.

I.OOK BEFORE YOU LEAP.

"I am disgusted with this shallow soil and barren surround-
ings," said a small tree to itself. And it pulled itself up by the
roots, and, using them for legs, trotted ofT to another location.
The sum of its experience was that it would have done better
to have remained where it was and devoted itself to growing
instead of to grumbling.

Don had made friends of the widow's family, and of Colonel
Wickworth and Faiher Taylor as well, and this, too, by com-
mending himself to them, as trustworthy and true. This was
a beginning, and by remaining where he wa , he would have
made other friends, and so, would gradually have grown in
strength, and in the number of his opportunities also. In
making so great a change for so small a cause, Don was
throwing away his gains and incurring fresh risks. Little by
little, or link by link, is the law of both progress and strength.
We may run away from human nature in one place, but
wherever we go we shall find a plenty of the same sort, and all
the more certainly because we can never rid ourselves of
ourselves.

After paying his railway fare, Don had seven dollars left
with which to face the world again. Besides the baggage
contained in his small sealskin trunk he carried an excess of
pride, of sensitiveness, of impulse, of self confidence and of
variableness. Possibly some of this surplus stuff was packed

("9) :. ',

^^Hai^

*.-^'

■^'

ISO

iji .iii,pi i |i<i.i!iyii.,^':'' ! -' 5 ''"" ' " '

AIR CASTLE DON

in him at family headquarters, but doubtless it had been lugged
about with unnecessary care. Pity it was that he had not by
his side for handy use a grip-sack filled to the handles with a
peck or so of forethought or precaution. Such a commodity
might have saved him a peck of trouble.

When he arrived at Greenbush, opposite Albany, it was
dark, and he was sound asleep in his seat and did not hear the
conductor's order for passengers bound to Albany to take the
forward cars. . A rude shake aroused him, and after being told
that the cars, already moving, were on their way to Troy, he
was told to stir himself quickly and jump from the train. Not
being accustomed to railway jumps he reached the ground in
such a condition that when he came to himself he discovered
that he was lying upon a wheelbarrow close to a hoarsely
breathing locomotive in the Greenbush roundhouse. Two
begrimed railway engineers stood looking down upon him.
On attempting to rise, severe pain admonished him that it
would be better for him to lie still.

"What has happened to me?" he asked in a faint voice.

"That is just what we should like to know ourselves," said
one of the men grimly. We picked you up from the railway
track where we found you to all appearance as dead as a rail.
How long you had been there, we do not know. Can't you
give us some account of yourself?"

Don related his story about jumping from the train by
direction of the conductor.

"That's just like Bill Lummix!" exclaimed one of the men
indignantly; "rather than stop a train to correct a mistake,
he'd kill half a dozen blunderers. Are you much hurt?"

With difficulty Don sat upright and began to move himself
a little to test his limbs. None of them were broken, but the
right side of his face was badly cut, as was also the outside

'^■*rf*"^-^<^'*'fr-'' "^

r-^^V t^M^pM^

;en lugged
lad not by
lies with a
ommodity

ny, it was
)t hear the
:o take the
being told
) Troy, he
rain. Not
ground in
discovered
a hoarsely
use. Two
upon him.
im that it

voice.
;lves," said
he railway
d as a rail.

Can't you

e train by

of the men
a mistake,
lurt?"
>ve himself
en, but the
:he outside

AIB CABTLB DON

181

of his right leg. And as for his garments, besides being clot-
ted and stained with blood, they were badly torn.

Looking ruefully at his clothes by the aid of the lanterns
of the two men, he said: "Judging from my clothes, I have
had a pretty rough tumble. I think that I could stand up if
I were to try hard, but I'd rather not attempt it, just yet."

The men were neither thick-headed nor hard-hearted, and
the one who had just spoken said: "Let us fix you a bit;
there is no need of trying to stand just yet." And they gath-
ered several old jackets and coats and stuffed them in around
him as well as they could.

Feeling faint, Don asked for a drink of water. One of the
men brought his pail containing a night lunch, and gave him
a drink of cold tea, which so revived Don that he began to
stir himself a little.

"Have a bite," said the kind-hearted fellow, removing the
top compartment of the pail and revealing sandwiches and pie
in the lower part. Don was hungry as well as thirsty, but
protested against robbing the man of his food.

"Oh, don't trouble yourself about that," was the hearty
reply; "my mate Bob will share his pail with me if you can
clean out this one."

Having eaten, Don sat up, though not without pain.

The man called Bob, who was waiting for a night freight
to take his engine, said: "When we went to pick you up, we
saw two fellows run away from you, and we thought that they
had done you up for the sake of robbery. As it is, we are
afraid that they have gone through your clothes. If you had
any money with you, you had better see if you've got it now."

Alarmed at this suggestion, Don searched his pockets in
vain for his pocket book, which contained his money, his
trunk check, his trunk key and his certificates of character.

1 f^yfr'WHf

132

AIR GASTLE DON

I*t-

"Possibly it may have been shaken out of you where you
fell, and though there is small chance of finding it, we will go
and search with our lanterns," said Bob, moved by Don's
distress.

But they returned as blank as they went, to Don's utter dis-
may. Seeing that he was trembling from head to feet at this
new disaster, the men made inquiries as to whence he came,
who he was, and where he was going, and what for. They
did what they could to allay his fears, and afforded him some
slight comfort by telling him to stay where he was till
morning.

Hearing the whistle of his train in the distance, Bob and
the other man, his temporary fireman, mounted the cab of his
engine. Before his engine moved several men had gathered
around Don, and Bob shouted to them as his engine began to
move: "Say, you fellows, look after that wheelbarrow chap
kindly ; he's no dead-beat. Give him this dollar for a send-off
in the morning, and make it two or three if you can." As the
engine went out the dollar fell upon the cinders, followed by
a half dollar sent by the fireman to keep it company.

The foreman of the roundhouse picked the money up and
handed it to Don, adding another fifty cents supplemented by
several dimes and quarters chipped in by the other men. Don
felt like crying, but somehow the kindness of the apparently
rough fellows heartened him so much that he said: "I guess
I'm on the road to Jericho fast enough, but it's plain that I
haven't fallen among thieves in this roundhouse, but among
good Samaritans."

One of the turntable men, ignorant of the Bible, supposing
that Don referred to his destination, said: "The Boston and
Albany don't go to no Jericho. You must have got on the
wrong road."

"I ^p . |% l ,» n* »iA'lr*r*

vhere you
we will go
by Don's

utter dis-
eet at this

he came,

or. They

him some

t was till

Bob and
cab of his
I gathered
e began to
rrow chap
a send-off
." As the
)llowed by

ley up and
mented by
len. Don
apparently
"I guess
lain that I
mt among

supposing
oston and
rot on the

AtR CA6TLR DON

1S3

"Oh, get out!" said another one; "don't you know enough
to know that this lad is a sort of a Scripture fellow, and that
he's talking Bible at us?"

"How should I know?" was the reply; "this road gives us
such a small chance to see the inside of a church or to know
Sunday when it comes around that there's no more Bible for
us than there is for the wind or for running water. But I can
tell him that though he'll find no thieves among this gang of
sinners, he'll find 'em thick enough outside of the roundhouse,
and that's cos we're so near Albany and the State House."

In the little intervals of time that the men had to them-
selves, they washed the blood from Don's face and leg. And
what was still better, as some of them kept needles, thread and
buttons for personal emergencies, they sewed up the rents in
his garments as best they could, and supplied the places of
several buttons that were missing. Don's hat was among his
losses, and its place was supplied by a soft hat which looked
as though it had been run over by a lightning express.

Observing that Don was scrutinizing the inside of the hat
with some care, the man who gave it to him said with a hearty
laugh: "You needn't look for any population there, my lad;
it is Bob Flanger's hat, and he keeps a head on him that is
cleaner than a peach-blossomj He's everlastingly soaking his
head under the hydrant, and that's as fatal to head-tramps as
the gallows is to them that's hung on it."

"If I ever get rich I'll hang this hat in the best place in
my library in remembrance of Bob and the rest of you," said
Don gratefully, and withal relieved to know that it belonged
to the sturdy engineer.

"Rich!" exclaimed one of the men rather thoughtlessly;
"if such a banged-up looking fellow as you ever gets to piling

134

AIR GA8TLB DON

money into a bank, it'll be because creation has got turned
'totlier end foremost."

"Oh, shut oflf your steam, Black!" impatiently exclaimed
the man who brought the hat ; "can't you see that you are talk-
ing to a respectable kid, and not to a young bummer?"

"When will Bob, as you call him, come back?" Don asked,
feeling a desire to see him again before he left the roundhouse.

"There is no telling anything about that," replied Jake
Cullum, the hat-man. "His turn is to Chicago and back, and
when a man goes out of this roundhouse we are sure of
nothing till his engine's nose comes puffing in again. 'Engin-
eers don't most always die in their beds,' you know." And
Jake used this bit of railroad slang with so much significance
that his meaning v/as far more impressive than if it had been
dressed up in a tailor-made suit.

When Don began to grow sleepy the men put two wheel-
barrows together and filling them with clean cotton waste,
made him a bed that he could lie in with some comfort.
Covering him with coats they left him to his slumbers, but at
no time of the night was he lost sight of altogether. Every
fresh gang of men that came in took an interest in the boy
as soon as they were informed of his mishap and of Bob's care
for him. The grim monsters of the road, fifteen or twenty in
all, were alive with fire and steam, and incessantly and harshly
noisy, but Nature held Don so closely to her breast that he
slept soundly till dawn. His awaking, however, seemed like
a hideous nightmare, and it was some time before his confused
faculties could disentangle him from his illusion.

Although still stiff and sore, he was able to move about,
and after eating a sandwich given to him by one of the men,
he took a look at himself in a piece of mirror that was fast-
ened to the wall. His face being black and blue, and one eye

■ ,T ff^ l '

AIB OASTLB DON

136

almost closed, he could scarcely recognize himself. His first
thought was to go over the river to Albany and get access to
his clothing, but being without either check or key, he at once
realized that the trunk might as well be in Boston for any good
it might do him.

"What shall I do about my trunk?" he asked of Jake
Cullum, who still kept a kindly watch over him, "now that I
have lost my check and key with my pocket book?"

"Well, youngster, you've got me under a dead engine —
pinned out of sight;" and Jake scratched his head in vain for a
solution of the difficulty. Presently brightening, he said:
"You of course know the contents of the trunk and can
describe them to the baggage master; that may help you a
little; but I guess I'll have to go over with you and swear
that your story about jumping from the train and all that, is
true. So, come along, for I have only an hour before my
engine goes out." He was but a fireman, yet his heart was
in the right place.

Arriving at the baggage room, Don had no sooner stated
his predicament than an underling of the room, glancing at
his face and clothing, positively refused to take any further
notice of him. It was in vain that the fireman backed up his
claims as well as he knew how; he was not known to the bag-
gageman, and the two were accused of being pals trying to
play a transparent confidence game.

Presently his majesty, the chief baggage master, made his
appearance, and Don attempted an appeal to him, but the
underling immediately made his own representation of the case
and Don and Jake were told that if they did not leave the
premises forthwith a policeman would be called.

"You might as well run your head under a locomotive as
to run afoul of a baggage man without your check," said Jake

•I

ISA

AIR OASTLB DON

with a tall oath. "I can do no more for you, and must go
back to the roundliouse. It's my opinion that they'll forget
all about you in ten minutes, so that, if in half an hour, the
fellows who stole your pocket book should come around with
the check, they'll get the trunk without any questions being
asked. Good by, and may the Lord have mercy on your soul
while you're in this town." Jake spoke with the bitterness
of the laboring man who instinctively feels that an unfortunate
is a snowball rolling down an inclined plane adding to his
misfortunes with every turn he makes.

Don tried to obtain access to the higher ofHcials, whose
offices were in the same building, but his bruised and tattered
appearance was invincibly against him, and he might as well
have attempted to board the moon with a view of going to
some land where the truth is known by reading the heart
direct.

Beginning to suffer hunger, he a* nted to enter a restau-
rant, but was no sooner seen than he ' 'lered into the street.
He was similarly treated in several other places, which he tried
one after another. Drifting down toward the river docks in
a dazed condition, he approached a street stand kept by an old
Irish woman. She saw so many battered specimens of human-
ity every day that she took scant notice of Don's disordered
person, although she made sure that the worth of his pur-
chases dropped into her wrinkled palm before the purchases
passed into his possession.

'When Jonah and his old sermons, after proving such an
indigestible problem to the whale, were vomited up on dry
land again, he must have presented a very disreputable appear-
ance. And the question is, how did he manage to work him-
self back into respectable society? But we came near forget-
ting that Jonah, though coming from a sea of trouble in his

. vii^j-nwfl'.'l'JB*

i l'J ' Mwfci

mm'

Ain OASTLB DON

half (iigested suit of clothes, was far superior to the rich sinners
of Ninevah who were clothed in fine linen and fared sumptu-
ously every day. And it is not far to say that even in this day
of multi-niillionaires some who arc looked down upon because
of the inferior appearance they make are infinitely superior to
some who arc looked up to because of their wealtli and liveried
turnouts.

All that day — a long, long day — Don, so far as his thoughts
and his experiences were concerned, like the early martyrs,
"wandered in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and in
caves of the earth." When he was again refused lodging-
house shelter as night came on, he felt as lonely and as much
abandoned of God and man as if he were cast into the midst
of the Sahara desert with only the lio.is for companions.

Exhausted by his wanderings, with every bruise shooting
flames of pain, and very thought racking him more than his
bruises, he went up State street toward the center of the city.
Here the Capitol building — not the twenty-five million one
that now crowns the capitoline hill — but the old one — attracted
his attention. He ascended the steps and took shelter among
the shadows of the portico, where, overcome, he sat down to
rest in the obscurest corner he could find. Presently he lay
prone upon the flagging and fell into a troubled slumber which
lasted till the morning.

-*■#■

■

-•

"^^1

"■«

■'1

_ ' .*' t

■^m-'^'^sifvmmm^BiiHam

m»»ss0mMimi^

CHAPTER XIV.

HOW A CITY BBCOMBS A THORN BUSH.

To the wretched and unfortunate one day is as like to
another as one thorn is like all others that grow upon tlv" same
bush. And in the nature of the case, although a city may be
the best of cities as cities go, to the unfortunate it is a hedge
of thorns through which it is impossible to pass without being
wounded at almost every step. Albany is as near Heaven as
any other American city to such as have the means and dis-
position to avail themselves of its great advantages, but on the
other hand it is just as near to Tophet as any other city to
such as have fallen beneath the wheels of fate.

Although Albany is beautiful for situation and the joy of
many people, it became a mortal terror to Don. While the
contributions of the roundhouse philanthropists lasted he could
appease his hunger by dining cheaply and unmolested at the
apple stands, after washing himself in the free and friendly
waters of the Hudson. But when he went the rounds seeking
employment his appearance was so much against him, he was
not merely the subject of simple negatives, but the victim of
positive scorn and cruelty as well. The constant dropping of
water will wear away a stone, and the constant dripping of
unkindness wore deep channels through Don's grit and reso-
lution. Many a soul has been undermined for time and for
eternity by such experiences as he passed through, and many

(138)

w wriO-":"-

I . 'iitm i' wv . i .otf i n ti im *! ' .mijrui i .!

„^^

AIR GA8TLB DON

a crime owes its origin to the dogged sullenness which has
been begotten between the upper and nether millstones of dire
necessity. Some who shine in society would have reached the
gallows by the road in which Don found himself, just as some
who are in the pit and the miry clay may find themselves in
honorable eminence if but a ladder is put down for their
assistance. *

The light of day brought little comfort to Don, but the
nights were times of terror to him. It might have been writ-
ten of him as it was written of Abraham at a crucial period of
his life: "And lo, an horror of great darkness fell upon him."
For Abraham's darkness there was the mitigation of a smoking
furnace and a burning lamp. For Don there was apparently
nothing — but darkness piled on darkness when the sun went
down.

Don knew what camping out meant. With a blanket
between him and the soft moss, and a campfire burning at his
feet a-night in the woods far from the haunts of men was a
delight. The picturesque underbrush of the forest ; the
stream purling over the rocks; the high pines singing music-
ally overhead; the twitter of the wild bird; the barking of the
squirrel ; the answering echo of the fox ; or the defiant hoot of
the owl; all these but gave zest to the pleasure of camping out
in the wilderness. Slumber came like soft-footed peace
among such scenes as these; and if the fairy webs of dreams
were woven through the corridors of the brain they were the
webs of the beautiful wonderland.

But this camping out in a city was another thing. While
the gas-lights fiickered fitfully, and the sounds of footsteps
diminished and the roll of carriages well nigh ceased alto-
gether, Don moved about like a lost spirit seeking rest and
finding none. He took furtive glances at shadowed recesses

140

Alll CASTLE DOM

and dark holes in quest of some spot that would be likely to
escape the watchman's eye. When such a place was discov-
ered it required no small degree of strategy to get into it
without being observed. Once in, the rats were sure to dis-
pute the occupation with the newcomer. Or a homeless dog,
seeking the same place, would snif? at the occupant, and find-
ing that he was only a fellow unfortunate, would quietly settle
down beside him and with timely growls or ominous snaps,
keep the rats from becoming too familiar or intrusive.

One night Don took refuge in the dark portico of one of
the largest and oldest church buildings in the city. While
lying there, with his head resting upon one arm for a pillow,
he recalled the words which he had heard so often at home:
"Let not your hearts be troubled; ye believe in God; believe
also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions; if it
were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place
for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come
again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, ye may
be also." The words were like a strain of distant music hov-
ering soft and sweet upon the air; but instead of coming nearer
and nearer, it receded farther and farther away. Don was
troubled; there was no question as to that, for the tears were
raining wormwood drops upon his sleeve. Nor could he help
being troubled ; the waves had gone over him, and the sound
of many waters put far from him any consolation he might
have, under other circumstances, found in the text.

Why did not the Recording Angel whisper in his ear that,
one day he should stand in the pulpit of that same church and
preach from that same text with a pertinency and power that
would carry the great audience with him from the first to the
last words of the sermon. Perhaps he understood that Ear
Gate was in a measure barricaded from within to all messages

«.^_,

iIbJum* v'inmiilim'Mtvuit t i k.ir" i in

-««

■TWWyjjyMWI yn III I

AIR GASTLE DON

141

of hope. Perhaps the Angel was too busy recording the vices
and the virtues of humanity — too busy trying to reconcile the
discrepancies of the balance sheet to notice how sadly in need
of encouragement Don stood. Perhaps the Angel's work was
so exclusively historical that he had not attained the gift of
prophecy. Probably, in any event, it was better under the
circumstances that the lad should see through a glass darkly,
for a too dazzling light is totally blinding to eyes that are not
strong.

When the day broke and while Don was cautiously making
his way down to the street for another day's start in the world,
his eyes happened upon the tin directory of the church.
Among the things he saw on the directory were the name and
the address of the pastor, "The Rev. John Paul Lovejoy."
That was a name to conjure with, and he determined to seek
the owner of it before another night came. "Possibly," he
thought to himself, "The Rev. John Paul Lovejoy may be able
to tell me what to do ; or he may put me in the way of getting
work. I know that I am a hard looking customer, but a min-
ister ought to know that bad appearances may sometimes be
just as deceitful as good appearances."

Inspired by hope, he breakfasted on a sandwich and then
went down to the river to make his toilet preparatory to his
important call. It never occurred to him that the forenoon
might be an unpropitious time for calling on a minister. So
far as the habits of his own father were concerned, there was
no distinction in times. The village minister's rule was — "The
man who wants to see me is the man I am placed here to see."

Don went to the residence of The Rev. John Paul Lovejoy
and rang the bell boldly. A tidy German girl anSVvered, but
the moment she saw him she made an almost involuntary
movement to close the door in his face. A second glance at

142

AIB 0A8TLB DON

the caller arrested her movement, and she inquired his busi-
ness, after noticing that the lad was moistening his lips ""if
trying to find his words.

"I am in great trouble and want to see the minister, if you
please," he at length managed to say with simple directness.

"The dominie is in his study busy with his sermon, and
his order is that he is not to be disturbed in the forenoon unless
it is absolutely necessary." And the girl spoke her lesson as
one who had learned it well enough to be in little danger of
forgetting it.

"It is necessary for me to see him," said Don, thinking
only of his own urgent side of the case.

Something in the caller's manner and tone appealed to both
the respect and sympathy of the girl, and she said without
further hesitation: "If you will wait, I will go and see what
he says, though I am afraid that he will be displeased. The
dominie is quite particular."

"The dominie! Why does she call him that?" said Don
to himself while waiting outside the closed door. He had
never heard the word used except as a Latin title for The Lord,
and it struck him as being little less than blasphemous to apply
it to a minister. While he was musing the minister himself
came to the door with pen in hand and the ink still wet upon
its point. He stood in velvet slippers, had on a long silk
dressing gown, wore spotless linen, a wide white choker, and
gold-rimmed eye glasses, and altogether, presented an appear-
ance of dignity which might have made one who was extremely
ignorant of heavenly things believe that he was the I ord
himself.

As soen as The Rev. John Paul Lovejoy cast eye upon
Don, he frowned ominously, and curtly asked: "Your
business?"

(

-MM*)

his busi-
ips "s if

r, if you
rectness.
ion, and
in unless
esson as
inger of

hinking

to both
without
ee what
The

lid Don
He had
e Lord,
o apply
himself
;t upon
ng silk
er, and
ippear-
remely
: lord

i upon
"Your

'-'i-n'W.iiin' ii S i^Airilii^g'i

AIIl OABTLB DON

148

"I am in trouble," Don began.

"Oh, yes — of course," the minister interrupted tartly ; "the
unfortunate are as plentiful as paving stones. I have no time
to listen to you; but here is a dime."

Don put his hands behind him and drew back, saying: "I
did not come for money, but for advice." Before the words
were fully spoken, the minister turned and closed the door with
an emphatic bang. After blistering the serving girl for calling
him down to see such a beggar, he returned to the sermon
which he was to preach before The City Charitable Society
from the text: "And now, abideth faith, hope, charity, these
three; but the greatest of these is charity."

The Rev. John Paul Lovejoy, D. D., was an able, popular
preacher and much sought after for great occasions. In his
sermon he intended to magnify corporate charity, and to dep-
recate private alms-giving as the bane of modern ?ciety. He
was so intent upon this that he left no private path in which
one might walk as a messenger of God to the poor and needy.
His opinions were graded more from the door view of annoy-
ance from necessitous cases, than from the view of God, the
pitiful Father of both the rich and the poor. Yet he was not
without his benevolent moments, for his somewhat bold signa-
ture fig^tred largely in the advertisements of men who manu-
factured cures for corns, indigestion, flatulency, colic, minister-
ial hysterics, loss of brain power and other ills "too numerous
to mention." Freely he had received and freely he had given
— of the influence of his illustrious name to help the benevol-
ent patent medicine venders to the rewards they so eminently
deserved. Over his study door hung the motto — ^the words
of J. Martineau: "To get good, is animal; to do good, is
human ; to be good, is divine."

When Don went down the parsonage steps he felt as

■i

-1

:t«l

eij^TT

144

AIR OASTLB DON

though his heart had descended to zero. "The slippered,
sleek, begowned old pharisee," he said to himself, "he ought
to go over to the Greenbush roundhouse and take a few lessons
in Christianity from the engineers, firemen and- turntable men I
Could he not afTord to give me ten words of kindness? Ten
cents! That's about the size of The Reverend John Paul
Lovejoy, D. D. Thank Heaven, my father was not cut out of
the goods that fellow is made of,"

He remembered the evening that he and Bert spent in
Theodore Parker's study by special invitation. And he
remembered that while they were there, several unfortunate
people were admitted to the study, and that instead of being
brushed aside like vermin, they were treated as though they
were angels in disguise. The monster of heresy exemplified
the beauties of charity, and the paragon of orthodoxy illus-
trated the ugliness of suspicion. Don was almost ready to
become a heretic again. But as heresy is fanned to its highest
by opposition and as there was no one to oppose him, he let
his thoughts run in the grooves that had been channeled out
by the forefathers.

His thoughts were diverted from the blank reception he
had experienced by a discovery which was far more aggravat-
ing than the contempt he had been made the subject of at the
hands of a "dominie." . ^•

In passing up one of the by streets he stopped to look into
the show window of a pawn broker's shop. The first objects
that his eyes rested upon were his nine books, his Bible, his
flute and the very garments he so much needed to improve his
appearance while making the rounds in search of work. The
thieves who robbed him while he lay unconscious on the rail-
road track had used the check for the trunk, and had then

juiili"*^'*

AIR CASTLE DON

145

ippered,

c ought

lessons

le menl

s? Ten

n Paul

ut out of

spent in

And he

ortunate

of being

igh they

emplified

)xy illus-

ready to

:s highest

m, he let

neled out

jption he

iggravat-

of at the

look into
3t objects
Bible, his
prove his
rk. The
I the rail-
had then

disposed of the contents to the Jew, who now had them
ticketed for sale.

Without thinking of the difficulty in the way of regaining
his things, Don hastened into the shop and demanded to know
how they came into the possession of the Jew.

"It ish none of your pizzness," was the defiant reply, given
after the Jew had surveyed Don from head to feet.

"It is my business; they were stolen from me," said Don,
angrily.

"You vas get out of this, or I vill put you out," threatened
the Jew, advancing upon him as if to lay hands upon him.

Seeing that he had made a mistake in his approaches, Don
left the shop, and although he thought he had little to hope for
from a policeman, he spoke to one who was passing and
informed him of his discovery, and the circumstances leading
to the loss of the trunk. Impressed by the straightforward
account given, the officer turned back and went with him to
the Jew's window.

But the Jew had seen Don conversing with the officer, and,
surmising his purpose, he gave orders to have the things
removed and concealed. Don was confounded by their dis-
appearance. The officer, who was well acquainted with the
tricks of this branch of business, said: "You should have
come to me first; he has taken advantage of the warning you
gave to put your things out of sight. Nothing but a search
warrant would be available now, and even that might fail.
Besides, in a case like this, no law can be set in motion without
money, and I judge from your appearance and from your story
that you have nothing to throw away on law officers and
methods."

"No, indeed; I see that I can do nothing," said Don
despairingly. ■ ": -^'^ J . "•*' '< ■

■i"*r-i' Trpf .

^m^-

146

AIR OASTLE DON

The officer left him to battle with this new misfortune and
disappointment as best he miglit. As he stood in front of the
window aimless and miserable, the Jew came out and with a
malicious leer said: "If you vas see something you like, I
schall sell it to you cheap as dirt, you vas so very smart."

His victim moved on, feeling as though he had been stung
by an adder, while the Jew, after watching him a moment, went
inside and made merry at the clever way in which he had out-
witted both the officer and the boy.

But a grim spirit of endurance was developing in Don.
He remembered seeing the trees of the forest bending beneath
the accumulations of repeated snow storms, and then resuming
their native erectness when the load melted away, and he
thought to himself: "In spite of these things, I'll not break
yet awhile."

On Sunday he went into the humblest church edifice he
could find in the hope of picking some crumb of comfort from
the services. An usher met him as he entered, but instead of
conducting him to a pew, he placed a chair for him against the
back wall of the audience room. Don bowed his thanks with
the formality of Chesterfield, and smiled in spite of the insult.
The usher saw him smile, and, taking it as a proof of depravity,
regretted that he had not directed the unwelcome visitor to go
away till his bruised face looked less pugilistic and his clothes
less like the rags of a vagabond. The elephant is a gigantic
beast, yet it is thrown into mortal terror at the sight of a
mouse; society is a mighty creature, yet the too near approach
of a soul that is not clothed according to the fashion plates
throws it into spasms.

The minister, an aged gentle-looking man, won Don's
heart, and for a moment he wished that he could unburden
himself to him. His experience with The Reverend John Paul

rtune and
ont of the
nd with a
ou like, I
mart."
teen stung
nent, went
e had out-

S in Don.
ig beneath
I resuming
y, and he
not break

Allt OASTLE nON

147

L«vejoy, D. D., alias The Rev. Theophilus Thistle, the thistle
sifter, came to mind with such depressing force, that he
repressed the desire, and although the service was as balm to
his wounds, he went out determined to bear his own burden
until such time as God himself should see fit to cut the bands
which bound it to his back. -

edifice he
mfort from
: instead of
against the
hanks with

the insult.
f depravity,
isitor to go
his clothes
a gigantic
sight of a
r approach
bion plates

• -<r i

von Don's

unburden

John Paul

iJMM«i^fi>

CHAPTKR XV.

«»

SPIRITS IN PRISON.

■

That night Don slept under a liedge in the public park.
In the morning he put himself upon an allowance of one sand-
wich a day ; half of it to be eaten for breakfast and the other
half for dinner and supper, for the roundhouse fund was
reduced to thirty-six cents.

"What shall I do when niy money is gone?" Don asked the
question with fear and trembling. And this very question is
daily asked by tens of thousands with feelings bordering on
agony and despair. The inability to ignore a dread uncer-
tainty is the foimtain head of much of the bitterness that wells
up from tho heart of humanity. Wrong itself is oftentimes
but the outburst of tlic sufF'. i ing produced by this uncertainty.

By ten o'clock liie clouds with which the day began poured
i'own floodj which carried the filth of the city in roaring
strrams into the Hudson river. The rain continued the rest
c. he day ;<vd well along toward midnight. In spite of all he
could do Don became drenched to the skin and chilled to the
bone. Becoming desperate, he asked a policeman to direct
him to some station where he would be allowed to remain
during the night. The policeman had not been able to make
any arrests during the day as trophies of his vigilance, and he
gladly took his applicant in charge as prisoner and led him
away. A few minutes after, Don, now thoroughly alarmed,

('48)

I ii N ' M ' p » I ■ " ■■■■ H ■ lll . l i -''-

AIR 0A8TI.R DON

• j iiyY' wy r I t i n{0 m}fHf* '

149

iblic park,
one sand-
the other
fund was

I asked the
question is
rdering on
:ad uncer-
i that wells
oftentimes
nccrtainty.
fan poured
in roaring
;d the rest
te of all he
lied to the
I to direct
to remain
e to make
ce, and he
d led him
r alarmed,

was arraigned before the station desk and recorded upon the
police blotter under headings which described him as a
vagrant, suspicious character, and as one who should be sent
to the workhouse.

He was led up stairs and locked in a narrow cell to which
mice, roachts and rats had been accustomed to have free access
in no small numbers as they prowled around in search of
crumbs scattered about by the prisoners. A bare plank served
the purpose of a bed. There were fourteen prisoners in the
adjoining colls; three fallen women, one girl, two boys and the
rest men. Don's appearance was the signal for many ironical
remarks and salutations, which increased to profanity and
obscenity when he persisted in keeping silent. When the
officer left the corrider one of the prisoners began to sing
snatches of a ribald song, the chorus of which was joined in
with great gusto by the others. Then came a violent verbal
quarrel between two of the women who were confined in one
cell and who were partly intoxicated; this was accompanied by
highly seasoned comments made by the other prisoners.
During the height of the quarrel, a male voice, full, clear and
comparatively well cultivated, and which had not been heard
before, began to sing one of Thomas Hood's well known melo-
dies. The words, so strangely out of place, and so immedi-
ately telling in their effects upon the prisoners began with:

. ,, "I remember, T remember, ••,

The house where I was born, ,, •

, :', The little window where the sun
' ; . Came peeping in at morn' ; ^ ■ . •

He never came a wink too soon, . .' > .

Nor brought too long a day, .: .

But now I often wish the night '

Had borne my breath away!" ' ' • ' -

160

AIR OASTLB DON

Continuing through the second and third verses without
faltering, the singer followed with the fourth:

"I remember, I remember
The fir trees dark and high;
I used to think their slender top4
Were close against the sky;
It was a childish ignorance,
But now 'tis little joy
To know I'm further off from Heaven
Than when I was a boy."

During the singing there were no interruptions; at the
close someone was sobbing. During the remainder of the
night there was an unbroken silence, save when fitful dreams
wrung from ruined souls fragmentary revelation of passion,
crime and remorse. The words of the song sent Don's
thoughts bounding homeward, but he was greatly solaced to
know that he was not in prison for crime or any fault of his
own, and for the first time in his life he realized that a good
conscience is better than a great fortune.

In the morning, in company with the other prisoners, he
was marched to the police court to be arraigned before the
police judge. Rapid as was the disposal of the pnsoners, the
judge was a man of keen discernment and impartial justice.
After a few preliminary questions to Don, he silenced the
accusing policeman, ignored the record of the blotter, and
pursuing his examination elicited from the victim of circum-
stances a brief and transparent account of his misfortune.

"You are honorably discharged," he said at the close; and
then with great kindness, added: "I am sorry for you, my
lad, and I advise you to employ all your energy in getting
back to your home and friends. Vou are far too young to
attempt to face the world alone."

■1

mmm

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-sr^fjvn m ,m y 'j f .H ' g '* - '*

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es without

>ns; at the
der of the
tful dreams
of passion,
sent Don's
solaced to
fault of his
hat a good

■isoners, he

before the
isoners, the
tial justice,
ilenced the
»lotter, and

of circum-
>rtune.

close; and
)r you, my

in getting
> young to

Ain 0A8TLB. DON

161

The next case, and the last on the docket, was a stranded
actor, who proved to be the man who sung Hood's words.
He had been taken in in precisely the same way that Don was,
and was discharged by the judge without hesitation. The two
passed out together, and had no sooner reached the outside of
the station than the actor, touching Don on the shoulder,
assumed a tragic air and recited the words of Hamlet:

"To be, or not to be — that is the question—
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.
Or to take arms a.rainst a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die— to sleep-
No more ; and by a sleep, to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to — 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished."

"Don Donalds," he continued in 'the same farcically tragic
manner, "we have breakfasted on prison fare; now whither
shall we go to dine and wine? But I forgot; methinks our
purses are but filled with empty air, if purses we possess, and
empty air is only fit for disembodied spirits, whose unsubstan-
tial pulp makes teeth and stomach superfluous encumbrances."
Taking Don by the hand he shook it gravely, adding : "Fare-
well to you where e'er you go. And, alas! a long farewell to
ail my greatness, for I no revenue have, but my good spirits
to feed and clothe me. I'm but a pipe for Fortune's finger
to sound what stop she pleases."

The eccentric and unfortunate actor had so much theatrical
bric-a-brac stowed away in his brain that common sense could
not find even standing room. But the pathetic wail he sung
on that eventful night in prison, and the spell of good it cast
upon the occupants of the cells, Don could never forget to his
dying day. As soon as he was well clear of the actor he turned

- — vi-isaMsi&aBScsasij.s-'— ;^

*wfeii III 'I fi I'mtil'^lli

AIR OASTLE DON

his footsteps toward the river determined to act upon the
advice of the kindhearted judge so far as he could. To leave
Albany and to return to Boston was now his all absorbing aim.
He started along the railway leading from Greenbush with
three sandwiches and a few cents in his pocket. The pure,
sweet free air of the country was an inspiration to him. At
noon he dined on a sandwich and a fresh turnip which he
found by the roadside. At intervals during the day he met
tramps who, at that season of the year infested the entire
length of the Boston and Albany Railroad. Few passed him
without attempting to enter into conversation. Most of them
were dangerous looking men. Now and then he came upon
boys who appeared to be younger than himself. He became
disquieted with the thought that he was hovering dangerously
near the borders of tramp life, that bottomless pit over which
is written: "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here."

By dark he was in sight of the lights of Pittsfieid, and being
footsore and weary, he began to look for something that would
serve as a shelter for the night. A lone haystack in a secluded
field looked invitingly attractive and he burrowed into the side
that was farthest from the railroad, and there, congratulating
himself upon his surroundings as contrasted with those of the
prison of the previous night, he fell into a peaceful sleep.

He had not been long asleep when he was awakened by the
voices of two tramps who were taking their lodgings in the
opposite side of the stack, and making the air smell rank to
Heaven with the offense of the rankest kind of tobacco smoke.
As they soon became quiet, and were evidently unsuspicious
of his own presence he again composed himself for slumber.
This time he dreamed of hell and with such a vivid sense of
actual flames of torment that he awoke in terror. The stack
was a mass of flames and at the instant of his escape toppled

ihJJfcBh.)

,„■» .«.

AIR CASTLE DON

f./t -^" " W ' -

upon the
To leave
bing aim.
)ush with
The pure,
lim. At
which he
y he met
he entire
issed him
It of them
ime upon
e became
ngerously
ver which

and being
hat would
a secluded
:o the side
ratulating
ose of the
sleep,
led by the
igs in the
11 rank to
CO smoke,
suspicious
• slumber.
1 sense of
The stack
»e toppled

over on the side occupied by the tramps whose pipes were
evidently responsible for the disaster. He could find no trace
of the men and never knew whether they escaped or were
incinerated in the flames.

The red dawn was breaking in the East and he resumed his
journey on the road, and happily escaped being called to
answer for the destruction of the stack. The sun was just ris-
ing when he entered Pittsfield. As he was walking among the
freight trains assembled on the network of tracks belonging
to the freight yard, and was in the act of passing a locomotive
he was amazed, yet inexpressibly pleased to hear someone in
the cab say:

"Hello, Don Donalds! Where in time did you come from?
Have you turned tramp?" And almost before he could
recover from his astonishment, honest Jake Cullum of the
roundhouse in Greenbush was shaking him by the hand and
poring out a mixed volley of exclamations and questions.

The engineer was also one of the roundhouse saints, and
leaning from his cab he hailed Don as cordially and with as
much interest as his fireman had done. "Your eye is getting
better," he said, "and your cheek will be all right as soon as
the scab comes oflf, but your duds seem to be losing what your
skin has gained, though Bob Flanger's hat sticks to you like
a true friend. What have you been doing since you left us?"

i.y this time the conductor of the freight came near, and as
Don, in answer to questions,j.''related his experience," several
other men who, besides Jake's train, were waiting for a
belated passenger train, gathered around and listened to what
was going on.

Don was so elated at the idea of being among friends
again that he gave quite a humorous twist to his account of his
sorrows. Nevertheless more than one eye was dimmed by

.mM

1. 1 ■■:..■-,. J -'Auiai

' f

154

AIR 0A8TLB DON

moisture, and several strong expletives dropped from the lips
of the men in expression of the sympathy they felt.

"If I had the handling of some of thdse Albany chaps,"
said Jake, "I'd make them drink tar for a week and then throw
them into the firebox of my engine for fuel."

"Going to Boston, are you?" asked the conductor, and on
Don's answering in the affirmative, he added: "But don'f you
know that in attempting to walk that distance you place your-
self in danger of becoming a regular member of the tramp
brigade?"

"Let's give him a jog on our train," said Jake eagerly; "I
know it's against the rules and all that sort of thing, but so
many rules have been broken for the crushing of the boy, it's
high time that some were broken for the sake of saving him.
It takes a tough one to walk from here to Boston, and he'd
starve to death or die in his tracks before he got over half the
distance."

"I guess we can fix it," said the conductor.

"And like enough lose your situation for your pains, for
just now the spotters of the company are keeping a sharp eye
upon us," remarked a cautious yardman who, while he was as
much concerned for Don as any of them, did not wish to see
the conductor compromise himself by carrying a passenger
without authority.

"Put him in a box car, and carry him as far as Worcester,
the end of our run," suggested Jake.

"That's talking United States!" exclaimed a brakeman;
"it can be done as easy as swearing,"

"No," interrupted Don, decidedly. "I'm going to Boston
honestly, or not at all. No rules shall be broken on my
account. It would not only place me in the wrong by making
a railway sneak of me, but it would place everyone on the

'!T7 .^y<!i!\y' " ; yy s^y ' ;'/j. ' 'i - J!,.^ ' M t. »'♦; ■! r- •

the lips

AIR 0A8TLB DON

train in the wrong, and that is altogetlier too big a price to
pay for a railroad ride."

"The youngster is right — sound hearted to the core,"
replied the conductor, but I didn't propose to help him on by
running the rules out; there's too much risk in doing that.
My brother is head man at headquarters, and I'll telegraph to
him about the whole business; I am quite sure that he will
telegraph an order here for a ticket for at least a part of the
distance."

The conductor, after being absent fifteen minutes, came
back and handed Don a ticket from Pittsiield to Boston on
second class. "There," said he, as joyfully as if Don were his
own relative, "that will save your shoe leather, and what is of
more consequence, it will keep you from getting mixed up
with the lousy tramps. Now you'd better scramble off to the
passenger station for number five will soon be here."

Don couldn't find' many words to voice his gratitude — he
was too deeply moved for that, but he found his feet fast
enough and set them in rapid motion for the passenger station.
Jake was so glad for the boy that he jumped upon his engine
and with the connivance of his engineer and conductor, sent
out a series of parting shrieks from his engines that excited the
wonder of the yard and town, and awoke the echoes of the
hills far and near.

"There," he growled with satisfaction, "that's against the
rules, too, but I'll be darned if it isn't time for something to
be broken for a chap that's as true blue as the sky, and that's
been knocked about like a tin can tied to a dog's tail."

The engineer laughed, and then suddenly exclaimed with
a look of annoyance: "By Jove, we've played the fool after
all!"

"How?" asked the fireman, surprised.

':^*.>*--.^i-;

■Aiks&!a

|| "!*!•>•.■■■■■

156

AIR CASTLE r>ON

"We forgot the collection, and that's enough to knock the
bottom out of all our preaching."

"Well, I'll be darned!" sighed the fireman, aghast at the
omission. "That's as bad as sending a ship to sea without
any provision. But look here! It isn't too late yet."

"Yes, it is. There's number five now, and she'll pull out
before we can get down to the station." >

"That won't make any difference if we're in earnest. Let's
make up two dollars and telegraph next station to give it to
him, and we'll pay as we go through."

"You are level headed Jake, sure." ' ■

So the amount was made up. and the conductor again called
into use, wired : "Find boy in second class, number five, with
bruised eye and cheek and give him two dollars. Will refund
as we come along. His name is Don Donalds."

When number five stopped at next station, Don was
alarmed as well as amazed, when a man, who was evidently in
a hurry, confronted him with the question: "Is your name
Don Donalds?"

On receiving confirmation of his conjecture, he gave Don
the telegram to read, and without further ceremony handed
him two dollars, and hurried away, for the train was already
beginning to move.

With the telegram and money in hand, it did not take Don
long to unfathom the mystery. His money was all gone with
the exception of ten cents, and the two dollars dissipated a new
cloud of anxiety that was beginning to settle upon him.

"God bless them," he said. "They don'i wear velvet slip-
pers, silk dressing gowns and white chokers, like The Rever-
end John Paul Lovejoy, D. D., but they are solid gold while
he is only gilt-brass."

^ii

■^aatli^iteitamsmtllm

■ '.V:

CHAPTER XVI.

A PBRPLBXBD PAMILT.

"It is fourteen days since Don left us," said Bert to his
mother in the presence of Nora, "and I haven't had a word
from him yet. He promised to write to me the first day after
his arrival in Albany, and I supposed that his promise was as
good as a fact. I never was more disappointed in a fellow in
iny life. It is a shabby way to treat one's best friend."

"You are not his best friend if you begin to think mean
things about him," Nora replied with a good deal of earnest-
ness. "There must be some reason for his silence, and you
ought to wait before you condemn him."

The little mother sided with Nora; she was getting anxious
about Don, but she had kept her thoughts to herself. Now,
she involuntarily expressed herself by saying: "I hope
nothing serious has happened to him; he certainly would have
written you had it been possible for him to do so."

At the bare thought of harm to his attic chum Bert's loy-
alty reasserted itself, and he said: "I am shabby myself to
suspect him of being shabby. He is high spirited and proud,
and it is more than likely that, failing to find anything to do,
he has run short of money and has put off writing until he
could give a good account of himself."

"ShOi*^ of money, and in a strange city!" exclaimed Nora,

(157)

Mi- M«f-l-^^i.taStu

rilriTl A; iiiiiiiii-f V liir'iiiii-'iltiif'''

158

AIR OASTLK DON

horrified by the thought. "What will he do? What can he
do without money?"

"If he is short of money, that's all the more reason why be
should have written. I have five dollars that he might have
just as well as not," said Bert.

"And I have sixty-five cents that could be added to it,"
said Nora. "Can't we send it to him without waiting to hear
from him?"

"We haven't his address," Bert replied, "and besides, for
aught we know, he may have started for that horrid Chicago
and gone to work gathering prairie dogs and rattles from the
rattle snakes to bring back to us. He is a great fellow for the
country and country curiosities, you know." And Bert spoke
without the sign of a smile.

"You are just awful to make light of such a serious thing!"
said Nora quite angrily.

"Let us wait a few days," the widow suggested soothingly.
"We may hear good news from him yet."

But Nora was not to be pacified. For the first time in her
life the thought of being without money had come to her in all
its dread significance, and she kept asking: "What can he do
without money?" Getting no satisfactory answer, she went to
her room and throwing herself upon the bed, she sobbed till
both her tears and her apprehensions were exhausted.

On Saturday afternoons she was in the habit of taking pro-
tracted airings on the Common. Miss Arabella Belinda Agin-
court was in the habit of doing the same thing. Each one
preferred the Beacon Mall, where the noblest elms swayed
their branches in umbrageous glory, and the nobbiest people
displayed their attire in all its gay diversity, whilst the repre-
sentatives of the common people mixed among them, or sat
upon the seats of the mall to watch and to make their demo-

It^iimSmaSmSm

^^gc^

:=£±-±±:i--^,i:i£^

r ^r'i^.'^t h^^t.S'*

AIU OABTLB DON

109

cratic comments upon the pageantry of fashion and the
grandeur of uplifted noses.

The day following the family council about Don was Sat-
urday, and Nora went out to take her usual afternoon prom-
enade among the elect or elite, the two words amounting to
the same thing in the mental eye of the world. She had but
just reached the favorite mall when she met Miss Agincourt
face to face, and remembering the part she had played as Don's
evil genius, Nora gave her a succession of glances that were
eloquently contemptuous and vindictive.

Being arrayed and powdered to the fullest extent of her
resources, Miss Agincourt looked down upon the little, plainly
dressed girl with pitying complacency. Seeing that the old
maid was not annihilated by her withering eye-volleys, Nora
turned and followed behind her and took her full measure of
vengeance by making malicious comments to herself upon the
attire of Don's enemy. Not content with this, she mimicked
her min«.!n«; gait to such an extent that those near watched the
artful pantomime with great amusement, and in some instances
with open laughter. It was surely a very unbecoming piece
of conduct for a little saint who could quote Scripture so con-
tinuously and appropriately, and all the more unbecoming,
because the victim of this spontaneous malice was unaware of
what was going on behind her.

Suddenly Nora uttered a suppressed cry of pain and imme-
diately started for home, where she arrived pale, and panting
from the effects of her haste. Miss Agincourt just as suddenly
changed her course and made her way directly to the counting
room of Wickworth & Co., into which she had no sooner
entered than she said to the colonel, who happened to be alone:
"That Donalds boy has turned out just as I expected. He
didn't leave the city as you supposed. I have just seen him

■1

160

Ain CASTLE DON

sitting on one of the seats of Beacon Mall, and a more hard-
ened and disreputable looking boy I have never seen."

"You must be mistaken," said the colonel severely, for he
had not forgiven his relative's interference in Don's case,
"lie certainly left the city for Albany."

"I am not mistaken," she replied, meeting her uncle's
severe gaze with a touch of defiance. "Notwithstanding his
dreadful hat and clothes and a big scab on his cheek, I
recognized him as certainly as I now recognize you. He
looked as dissipated as if he had been bumming about the city
ever since he left the store. And he recognized me, for the
moment his eye met mine, he jumped up irom the seat and fairly
ran away. He lied to you about leaving the city, just as he
lied to you about his board bill."

"IT' Id the truth about his board bill; and I happen to
K.ow by the testimony of Bert \Villian>s, who saw him board
the Albany train, that he ])urchascd a ticket for Albany with
part of the money that I gave him when he left us. That boy
is no liar, and if you have seen him, as you say you have, he
has been unfortunate. And instead of following him up with
your unfounded suspicions, you should have accused yourself
as being in part responsible for his misfortune, and should have
spoken to him and tried to put yourself in the way of making
some reparation for the serious injury you did him. It is no
small crime to In instrumental in casting a cloud upon an
innocent boy's future. I shall Ik uneasy about him until I
hear more of him, and if I had any clue to him I should try to
find him. I have been worrying about him ever since he left
here, for the more I have thought about him, the more I have
been convinced of his worth and of the harm that has come to
him through your impertinent meddling with things that did
not concern you." As usual with the colonel when he became

AIR OASTLB DON

indignant enougli to use the wtiip, tlie sting was in the end of

the lash.

Miss Aginrourt, growing red in the face, said: "If the
deacon were here, he'd protect me from your insults."

"I mean no insult, but if he were here I'd say the same
things, and possibly, if he joined with you, I should say
harsher things than I have already uttered."

Miss Agincourt hurried away in no amiable temper, and
she had no sooner closed the door behind her than the colonel
gave vent to his annoyance by using some hot Mexican War
expressions, which might burn through the paper if they were
put down in black and white.

When Nora reached home she was so excited she could
scarcely control herself: "Oh, mother," she began, "I have
seen Don, and such a wretched sight as he was, was enough
to break one's heart."

"Control yourself, my dear; you certainly must be mis-
taken," said the little mother, alarmed at her child's agitation,
and no less so at what she said.

"Oh, mother, I did see him! And that hateful Agincourt
saw him as plainly as I did; aivl I saw the wicked sneer that
came to her face when she recognized him. Don looked per-
fectly dreadful! He had an old hat on that '> >oked as if it had
been picked up in somebody's back yard. And there was a
great scab en his cheek. And there he sat without a collar,
and his shirt looked the color of the walk beneath his feet.
His clothes were dreadfully soiled, and torn besides; and his
shoes were nearly worn out, and you know 1, \v particular he
was iibout his dress and looks. He saw me, too, and when I
started to go toward him, his face turned red and he ran away
from me. I believe that he has walked all the way back from
Albany and that someone has been pound aig him, or that he

twna

AIR OABTLB DON

lias met with some dreadful accident, and that he was su
ashamed of his appearance that he didn't want nu: to spiaii to
liim. Oil, if he had only waited for me I would have brought
him home with me, even if all Boston had stared at us!"
And Nora, exhausted by her excitement, began to cry and
wring her hands. " , -i

Her mother was much perplexed, but the more she ques-
tioned Nora, the more was she convinced of the correctness
of her representations. She was filled with anxiety and could
not restrain her own tears.

As soon as Dert came home, the story was poured into his
ears, and lost nothing in the retelling by Nora. He ques-
tioned her on cver\ point, and found it difficult even then to
believe that she had really seen him.

"It must have been somebody else who resembled him,
just as Don and I resemble each other," he said, anxiously
seeking a loophole of escape from his fears.

"Then why should he turn red at seeing me, and run away
from me?" Nora replied, shutting her brother up to her own
conviction.

He went over to the Coverts to see Miss Agincourt. The
amiable maiden had already acquainted Covert and his wife
with her discovery, and the first thing Covert said when he
saw Bert was: "So, you have heard from your pet attic
boarder? Are you going to take him in again?"

"Is Miss Agincourt in?" Bert asked without noticing
Covert's question. "If she is I should like to see her alone for
a few minutes."

'Oh, of course! You want to hear the story straight and
hot from her own lips. She is in the reception room and will,
I know, be very glad to see you."

.T*^*'

he was so

to speak to

avc l)rc)Ught

red at us I"

to cry and

re she ques-

correctncss

ty and could

ired into his

He quc8-

even then to

embled him,
d, anxiously

nd run away
> to her own

icourt. The
and his wife
aid when he
>ur pet attic

out noticing
her alone for

straight and
>om and will,

Ain CASTLE DON

Bert was no sooner in the presence of the lady than he
began with: "Did you sec Don Donalds this afternoon. Miss
Agincourt? Nora says he was on the Coinnion, and that you
saw him at the same time she did. I thought it possible for
her to be mistaken."

Miss Agincourt smiled so maliciously that Bert was
answered before she sf)okc. Taking time to frame her reply
in accordance with her smile, she went on to say with a most
provoking deliberation: "From the outcry your sister made,
and from the way she started toward him, I think that I am
justified in saying that she recognized him as easily as I did,
notwithstanding his rags and filth."

"His rags and filth!" Bert exclaimed, white with rage at
the evident satisfaction with which she used the words. "If
he was in rags and filth, it is because you pulled away the
ladder by which he was trying to climb and dumped him
among the mud and stones. If I were not a gentleman mak-
ing a call upon a lady I'd say more and worse. I beg your
pardon for speaking so plainly."

Miss Agincourt indulged in such a peculiarly sharp-pointed
laugh that Bert dropped from the heights of the man down to
the impulsive boy that he was, and suddenly burst out with:
"May God have mercy upon your poor little, miserable,
skinny, powder-faced soul!"

"Tut, tut! you young scamp!" interrupted Covert, hasten-
ing into the room from the place where he had been eaves-
dropping. "If you don't know how to control your tongue,
you must get into the street as quickly as your feet can carry

you."

"Save your breath, Mr. Covert— it is so very, very valuable;
and trust me to know enough to get out of a den of vipers
^thout waiting for orders to go." Bert had already risen to

...;:Jil

'Jk..,

164

AIR CASTLE DON

take his leave, and he shot this parting arrow with such down-
right venom that both Covert and Miss Agincourt winced
under the stroke.

"Yes, it was Don beyond a doubt," said Bert in answer to
his mother's inquiries. "And that Agincourt viperess is actu-
ally rejoicing over what she called his rags and fiith. What
do you think of that for a specimen of womankind?"

"She is not a fair specimen of the sex to which your sister
and mother belong, bat 'she is a sample of people of both sexes
who are disappointed if their evil surmisings fail of fulfillment."
"She tried to make her uncle believe that Don was a liar,
and now she will go to him and try to convince him that he is
a criminal also," said Nora bitterly.

If they had known that the sweet Arabella had already been
to the store, and that she had already been roasted by the
colonel they would not have wondered at her lack of com-
passion for the unfortunate Don, for roasted people are apt to
reserve their compassion for themselves.

The explanatory guesses of the little family were not far
from the truth. They concluded that Don had been over-
taken by some unaccountable misfortune, and that having
returned to the city in a beggarly condition, his pride had
prompted his escape from Nora, and would prevent him from
coming to the house cr from putting himself in the way of
being seen by anyone who knew him. They feared that he
would suffer to the last verge of endurance before his pride
yielded.

"To morrow is Sunday," said Nora, lighting up with a
faint hope, "and you must spend the day searching for him.
Perhaps he may be on the Common again."

Bert spent the day roaming the Common, the Public
Garden and the streets where he thought he would be likely

SS^SEgSS^

1 such dowii-
iourt winced

in answer to
eress is actu-
fi;th. What
d?"

h your sister
of both sexes
f fulfillment."
>n was a liar,
lini that he is

already been
tasted by the
lack of com-
ple are apt to

were not far
d been over-
that having
his pride had
'ent him from
n the way of
eared that he
fore his pride

ig up with a
hing for him.

1, the Public
Duld be likely

,is^ -b'JV- l.^l'iv, '

ri" - PW;T-' '' "

iii u. i L»n.n .i ii mmnni ii pt.w I , wpur^wpi^fwpigignqui"

AIR CASTLE DON

166

to happen upon his chum. He searched in vain. The fear
that Don was without a sheUer to cover his head, filled the
family with such dismay that silence became their only refuge.
Colonel Wickworth did not dismiss Don from his mind with
the departure of Miss .\gincourt from the store. He had a
high opinion of his worth, yet, wise in the knowledge of high-
strung natures:, he readily understood why the boy had left
the city, and reproached himself for not having seen him per-
sonally and dissuaded him from making so hazardous a move.
The picture that was given of his forlorn appearance haunted
him all day Sunday, and the only relief he obtained was by
assuring himself that Don would certainly return to his North
Square boarding place. But there still remained the fact, as
indicated in Miss Agincourt's account, that he avoided his
former landlady's daughter; and it was a fact he could not
explain to his satisfaction. / :- . "' :,

The deacon was away on business, and on Monday morn-
ing the colonel sent a note to Bert's employers requesting
them to let him go to the Wickworth store for ten or twenty
minutes; and by way of explanation, he said that the Donalds
boy was in trouble without any fault of his own, and that the
interview was to be in his interest.

"Has Dor returned to your place?" was the first question
with which the colonel met Bert's entrance into the counting

room.

"No, sir," was the desponding reply, followed by the won-
dering question : "How did you know that he had returned to

the city?"

"I learned of it through Miss Agincourt, and I judged from
what she said that he has been very unfortunate, and has, in
fact, become destitute. I am anxious about him, for he does
not deserve to suffer." - .

y p ii y iipi»y i . « iM? .

166

AIR CASTLE DON

Immensely pleased with this manifestation of interest on
the colonel's part, Bert opened his heart and repeated what
Nora had said about Don's appearance. He also tried to
account for Don's failure to return to North Square.

"I think I understand that part of it," said the colonel
nervously, "but I cannot understand why he should look so
seedy in so short a time. Possibly he has pawned his clothing
to keep from starving. Have you written to him?"

"Not yet. He left word for me to forward his mail to
Albany, and I took it for granted that he would not be very
likely to go to the ofHce here."

"A letter dropped in the office will be published in the usual
list of letters remaining in the office, and he may see the list
and call for the letter. Write to him and urge him to return
to your house. Say that a friend will supply him with all
needed clothing and ^ocome responsible for his board until
he can get on his feet again. Write also that Phillips &
Sampson being in need of a boy, 1 have recommended him to
them, and they will keep the place open for a week or ten days.
You must also put a 'personal' in four of the city papers,
saying thp.! he will find something to his interest by calling
upon you at an early date, and here is the money to pay for
the advertisement. I am much concerned for him, and as
soon as you hear from him, you must let me know of it, but
not in a way to bring our doings to the notice of my brother."

Bert promised to follow the colonel's directions to the
letter, and thanked him gratefully for the interest he took in
Don's welfare. At the home dinner that day the colonel was
canonized among the saints, and Nora's tongue itched for
words adequate to his praise.

Both the deacon and Miss Agincourt had a sneaking par-
tiality for newspaj-er 'personals,' and it was not long before

tiitn

interest on

eated what

50 tried to

re.

the colonel

lid look so

lis clothing

lis mail to
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see the list
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m with all
joard until
Phillips &
ded him to
)r ten days,
ity papers,
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II - 1,1. l u i Ufl« ; if. ; Mi l | i j..; 'I jy g ^.B i t- ' . ■' V'J. -U ' .'"- M MJ.

AIR CASTLE DON

167

they saw the one relating to Don. Miss Agincourt was the
first to inform the deacon of Don's return to the city. She
abated neither jot nor tittle in the malignity of her suspicions,
and the deacon concluded that the shop had been rid of a
hopeless scapegrace. The 'personal' was dismissed from
notice by assuming that it was merely an attempt on the part
of Bert's mother to recover an attic boarder.

j^- ^#^^^ '

PIHP

CHAPTER XVII.

A PUZZLED YOUTHFUL PILGRIM.

While Don was making the journey from Pittsfield to
Boston in the comfortable car at a rate that almost annihilated
distance, the jolts of the train, the turns in the road and the
swift succession of scenes were but parables of the jolts of his
mind, the turns in his thoughts and the succession of possibil-
ities that suggested themselves to his feverish imagination.
The tramp from Albany to Pittsfield, and the night spent in
the haystack, rankled in his heart fully as much as did the
night spent in the prison. ' ' ^ . 1

As the train sped on, tramp pilgrims by ones and twos and
threes were passed almost every other mile, and he shivered
at the bare idea of being one in the long and scattered pro-
cession of forlorn tatterdemalions leaking out of nowhere and
streaming on to an equally indefinite destination. How did
their lives begin? Where would they end? Was not every
man's hand lifted against them? Were they to be the vermin
of eternity as they were of time? Here was a "crook in the
lot" that was past Don's power to straighten out. How much
of the crook was due to the faults and misfortunes of the
pilgrims of the road? How much, to the defects of society or
the indifference of humanity, or the positive neglect prompted
by the overweening selfishness of the more fortunate.'' Don
believed that every human being, tattered or tailor-dressed,

(i68) "\ '

wtmm».

-„.*-

ittsfield to
innihilated
id and the
jolts of his
)f possibil-
lagination.
It spent in
as did the

\ twos and

e shivered

tered pro-

where and

How did

not every

he vermin

3ok in the

low much

les of the

society or

prompted

ite .■' Don

)r-dressed,

AIR CASTLE DON

169

had an immortal soul, but irom his point of view it appeared
to him as if souls were considered of far less account than the
buttons people wore upon their clothes. ^Te know how keenly
even a ragamuffin like himself could suiter, and he blamed
himself for not having thought more concerning the sufferings
of others until the shoe began to pinch his own foot.

A dim light relieved his dark thoughts. There were the
roundhouse saints who had been so kind to him. Were there
not many ethers like them scattered among the multitudes?
saints who seldom entered churches, yet ministered to suffer-
ing as they found opportunity, and that, too, without letting
their left hand know what their right hand was doing?

With two dollars in his pocket and rolling wheels beneath
him bearing him so swiftly toward Boston — with these fur-
nished to him by his roundhouse benefactors, and with their
rough, yet sympathetic words lingering in his memory like
flowers clinging to a beetling cliff, he was in a fair way to take
reasonable views of even the inequalities of life.

But suddenly there was a turn, a violent jolt in his thoughts
and he was thrown from the track altogether, and all that was
left for him to do was to pick hitiiself from among the splinters
of the wreck, count his wounds and be his own surgeon to
them.

Charity! That was the word that threw him from the rail.

"I am an object of charity," he said to himself, "and the
roundhouse men helped me because I was an object of char-
ity." The thought made his two dollars burn in his pocket;
and the measured sound made by the wheels as they struck
each successive rail spelled charity as plainly as it was spelled
in the spelling book or dictionary. The noble word, so sug-
gestive of noble deeds and motives, stuck in his throat so
obstinately that it almost choked him. ,

170

AIR CASTLE DON

"I'll not be an object of charity to anyone, nor for any-
body," he said aloud, gritting his teeth and clenching his
hands, and stiffening up in his whole person. "That is where
the tramp-world begins. Men become willing to receive char-
ity, and charity becomes the open hole down which they sink
into shiftlessness and nothingness. And if people give, it is
because they want to rid themselves of the things that would
otherwise remain in sight to annoy them. No more charity
for me. If I can't fight my way up, I'll cast myself down so
deep that not even an undertaker can find me. Every dollar
I have received, from the colonel down to the firemen, shall
be paid back again ; and if I can't get it into the hands of the
men to whom it belongs, I'll throw it into a missionary box,
and send it so far away that there will be small chance of its
coming back to haunt and humiliate me."

So here was Don going back to Boston minus his trunk,
but with a car load of pride and a car load of suspicion and
distrust, which might have been of use to him could they have
been condensed into pocket quantities and carried about as
self respect and caution. Possibly the pressure to which he
was to be subjected led, in a measure, to this result in the end.

When he landed at the station he felt glad to know that he
was in Boston again, and he said to himself: "Here I'll stick
and push my roots down until I can find something to grow
upon."

The passengers who came out of the Boston and Albany
station were confronted by one of the most squalid and dis-
reputable precincts of the city. Keenly remembering his own
battered and disreputable appearance, and fearing that the
neighborhood would claim him and suck him down into its
whirlpool depths without any choice of his own, he hurried in
the direction of the Common. He thought of the attic in the

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▲IR OASTLB DON

171

widow's house and longed to go back to the little mother's
family. But having resolved to keep clear of all acquaintances
till he was in a condition to meet them> on equal terms, he
stifled his feelings and entered the Common and sat down
upon one of the seats.

What should he do next? How soon would his blank page
give place to a title page or to a chapter with something in it
worth considering? For a long time he remained motionless.
He studied deeply what should be his next move, but the more
he thought, the more perplexed he grew. Presently he
noticed that his garments were still covered with the dust of
travel ; his hands were grimy, and his skin felt as if the filth of
a sewer had been flowing over him. The consciousness of dirt
took possession of him, and his whole nature rose in rebellion
against this first and worst symptom of degradation. It
seemed to him as though his outward meanness of appearance
was corroding his very soul with rust and shabbiness. He
hurried to the foot of the Public Garden which, at that time
reached the salt water of the inflowing sea. The sun was
setting gloriously over the purple hills in the west. Not a
loiterer n ir a bluecoat lingered near. A boat-flat floated
below the wall ; lowering himself to this he disrobed and flung
himsolf into the water. And there, where Commonwealth
avenue, the grandest avenue in all Massachusetts, has since
been laid out upon made land; and where magnificent
churches, art rooms, institutes .and palatial residences have
since sprung up, the pride of Boston and the wonder of visitors,
Don revelled mid the sunset hues reflected upon the waters,
diving, swimming and plunging about as he had been wont
to do in the waters near his far-of? home. And then, after
sporting like a porpoise, he remembered his chief purpose, and
seeking the shallows dredged sand from the bottom with

=f:

" ^TlWPffPPP

172

AIR CASTLE DON

which he scoured his skin till it was as red as the sun itself.

If the Naiades — the nymphs of the waters — had done their
duty, they would have put a new suit of clothes on the flat for
Don's use when he should return to shore. In recompense
they might have taken his old garments to use as floor-cloths
for their kitchens. But perhaps Boston intelligence had ban-
ished them from its matter-of-fact precincts and had forced
them to return to Greece or to the classic realms of pure
mythology.

Don took his clothes and threshed them on the planks of
the flat till every dust-atom fled in dismay. When he climbed
the wall and walked about renewed in every fiber of his being,
he looked like a young god masquerading in old clothes just
for the fun of the thing, or for the sake of walking incog and
taking point-blank peeps at the lower walks of Boston life.

Now that he had shaken the dust from his garments,
washed the grime from his body, and thereby thrown off some
of the weight from his mind and driven out some of the
specters which had tormented his soul he walked briskly to the
upper part of the Common where, after obtaining something
to eat from one of the stands, he sat down to watch the after-
tea promenaders who flocked together on the Tremont Mall in
great numbers. Presently joining in the promiscuous pro-
cession and catching the spirit of the happy throng he walked
and whistled as unconcernedly as though a bed awaited him in
one of the millionaire mansions of Beacon street.

As the evening advanced the crowd sifted out through the
gfates of the Common till only belated people making short
cuts in various directions appeared here and there. Finally
the sifting left but an occasional straggler to disturb the soli-
tude. In the tree forks there were houses built for the pet
squirrels of the city, and among the branches there were fancy

n itself,
ne their
flat for
mpensc
r-cloths
ad ban-
J forced
of pure

AiR CASTLE DON

178

nests provided for the birds which chose to occupy them — the
English sparrow had not yet conquered the United States —
but Don had nowhere to lay his head. Having resolved to
husband his scant funds for food alone he was dependent upon
chance for sleeping quarters.

The day had been a long and exciting one and he was now
suffering from the inevitable reaction and fatigue. Seeing
that the mall policeman was beginning to notice his presence,
he passed down to the old cemetery on the south side of the
Common, and, looking through the iron railing, he sought
some place where among the vaults and tombstones, he might
pass the rest of the night. A large fir tree which hugged the
ground with its low thick branches invited him to its shelter,
and he was about to |:limb the fence and hide himself among
the dead, when a watchman appeared and drove the thought
from his mind. He left the Common and passed into the
streets, where for awhile his loneliness was relieved by the
returning theater goers. When these also melted away among
the shadows he found himself alone near the old Tremont
Temple, Noticing a narrow passageway in one end of the
building, and observing that it had no door, and concluding
that the stairway led toward the top of the structure, he decided
to venture in, hoping that he might happen upon some corner
where he could lie down and sleep undisturbed. The few
feeble jets that were left burning, and which served but to
make the darkness visible, indicated that they were for the use
of the watchman of the building. Nevertheless he continued
to ascend till he reached the uppermost floor. He was now in
a wide hallway bounded by seemingly disused apartments, and
cumbered with stowage of a miscellaneous description. He
noticed a long narrow packing case with a loose upturned
cover leaning against one of the walls.

■ ■■«

iiWfi^yfiiiip!;.'-

174

AIR OASTLB DON

"A bed good enough for a prince!" he said softly to him-
self, after cautiously examining it, "barring the fact that it
looks a little like a coffin." It was partially filled with soft
packing papers. Don slipped in, lowered the cover, leaving
an opening sufficient for ventilation, and after lifting grateful
thoughts heavenward, he fell asleep.

Treniont Temple was a hive of rooms and offices, with the
great auditorium, the chief meeting place of The Temple
Church, and the much-used lecture room and place of gather-
ing for great public occasions, at the center of the whole. The
night guardianship of the quaint old granite building — subse-
quently destroyed by fire — was intrusted to a gray-haired
negro, a meinber of the Temple Church, and one of the eccen-
tric characters of Boston. In his way he was a pedant of
words, and once a year a complimentary benefit was extended
to him by the fun-loving youth of the city. The large hall was
used for this purpose, and notwithstanding the admission was
put at fifty cents, it was always filled to suffocation. The
negro usually gave a rambling lecture packed with columns of
dictionary the pompous delivery of which was accompanied
with incessant applause or catcalls, and tributes thrown upon
the stage in the shape of bad eggs, dead rats, cabbages and
other unsavory accompaniments. In the end the negro was
the greater gainer; the young men had their annual frolic, and
the negro his dollars running up into the hundreds; and so,
as between the negro and the audience, the negro, judging by
the practical results, was the wiser of the twain.

He was an extremely pious man and a frequent and accept-
able exhorter at the Temple Church prayer meetings. His
bachelor quarters were on the floor where Don had made his
bed for the night. Having completed the last round of the
building toward the gray of the morn he was retreating to his

MfUMI

▲Ill (lASTLn DON

room when lie heard a rustlinuf in the box where Don lay.

Going toward the sound he said in a low voice to himself:
"If my olfactories do not deceive me, I hears the sound of a
mighty progigeous rat in that lemoncholy looking box."

Don, who, though still asleep was dreaming that he was
preaching a sermon before a temple congregation, uttered
some v.'ords that were echoes from his father's pulpit.

"Tie complexion of dose words don't germinate from the
inceptions of no quadrupuddic animal," said the negro, intently
Ij.stening. "And it isn't no emmernashun from Satan nuther.
Sounds critically like as though a preacher dun got lost from
h/.s moorings and sailed plum into the projecting arms of a
packing case."

Advancing,he cautiously lifted the loose cover, just as Don,
in low sighing tones which seemed to come from afar, said:
"What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee."

"Bless your soul, honey!" exclaimed the black man, forget-
ting to starch his sentences, and speaking in tones that
trembled with emotion ; "there is nothing to be afraid of while
this chile is watching over you. And the Lord himself has
said to them who trust in him, 'I will never leave thee, nor
forsake thee'."

The sound of his voice awoke the sleeper. Don opened his
eyes and seeing the black face peering down upon him, without
being able in the dimness of the light to discern the sympathy
expressed thereon, he said in a half pleading voice: "Don't
call a policeman ; having no other place to go to, I came here
to sleep for the night, not meaning any harm to anything or
anybody."

"Policeman I" exclaimed the negro. "I'm the policeman of
this edifice, and the gardeen of all that's in it. And when I
hiappen upon a boy in such a tight box as that, and a preaching

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176

AIR CASTLE DON

and a scripturing in his sleep, I'm not going to disconvenience
him by giving him up to the heathen for his inheritance. If
you'll elevate yourself from that box, I'll take you to my room
what's on this floor, and give you a breakfast as expediently
as possible."

Don followed him to his well kept room, where the negro,
being an excellent cook, soon served a warm and appetizing
breakfast. Happily for the guest, the host became so intent
upon framing a succession of his wonderful sentences that he
forgot to inquire into Don's private history or future intentions.

The box-lodger went down the long flight of stairs leading
to the street laboring under conflicting feelings; he was grate-
ful to the negro for his kindness, yet humiliated to think that,
notwithstanding his resolution, he had again become the sub-
ject of charity, nor did he recover from the sting of his pride
until he had taken a vigorous walk upon the Common.

When the hour for the opening of business approached he
went down to the wharf side of the city, and alter applying to
several stevedores for work, was to his great joy engaged for
two hours to wash down the upper decks of a ship which, not
being ready for sea, had not yet shipped her crew. For this
worK he received twenty cents which so encouraged him that
he went the rounds of the wharves in the hope of finding other
employment. He continued his search, but unavailingly, till
some time after noon.

Boston Common is the airy Bethesda where countless
weary and woebegone spirits have found mitigation of their
sorrows and ills. Don again resorted to it for rest and for the
soothing effects it always produced upon his mind. After sit-
ting awhile in one of the least frequented portions of the open
green, Vvhere he could get the full bMiefit of both sun and air,
he took one of the by paths that led toward the Beacon Mall,

yjjiji ' ^jm i .

„r~-*?-

AIR CASTLE DON

177

where the Saturday afternoon promenaders were out in full
force. The gay procession fascinated him, and he sat down
upon one of the numerous seats facing the mall to watch the
rich display of color and beauty. A lovely little miss chasing
a gaily painted hoop passed so near to him that he turned his
head to keep her in view as she sped down the mall. When
he again faced the throngs of people, Miss Agincourt was
slowly passing with her steel-g^ay eyes fixed contemptuously
upon him, and close behind her was Nora, who, when she
recognized him, made an involuntary movement toward him,
her face filled with surprise and pity. • ^

Overwhelmed with shame and confusion, and hardly know-
ing what he did, he turned his back on her and literally ran
away.

"What will they think? What will they say?" he exclaimed
in great distress, when at a safe distance he halted to recover
his breath.

"Am I a coward or a fool — or both?" he reflected after
having had time to cool, and, for the first time since his
return, distrusting the consistency of his conduct.

"I am neither!" he finally concluded; "but I should have
been both if in this condition — looking like a cornfield scare-
crow—I had thrown myself upon my friends as another object
for their charity."

'•# • *">" '

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN INVOLUNTARY DETBCTIVB.

^^.

Days passed without any change in Don's fortune. Hav-
ing no use for the post office, he kept away from it, and having
no change to spend upon newspapers, he went without them,
and consequently Bert's letter failed to reach him, as did also
the 'personal' written for his benefit.

He scoured the city for work, hut was getting so severely
scoured himself that his appearance was a constant contra-
diction to hi? apjlications. His shoes barely held together,
his clothes were little better, and Bob Flanger's hat, the crown
of his mendicancy, was so rapidly going to pieces, there was
small chance of even a fragment of it being left for a memento
of the roundhouse saints. He still took his salt vater baths,
although no cleanliness of body could atone for the condition
of his clothes. Of a former Russian age the historian tells us
that: "The grandees came to court dropping pearls, dia-
monds — ^and vermin." In those days, splendor atoned for
filth ; in these, no degree of cleanliness of the body can atone
for frayed garments. The world thinks more of clothes than
it does of skin<?, and the Lord is about the only one who has
ho respect for the mere outward appearance.

Notwithstanding the most heroic economy Don's dollars
had becor.ie reduced to cents. If he should be reduced to the
pangs of hunger, what then? One Sunday morning while
walking down Salem street before the inhabitants were stirring,

(178)

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='*"'*'ffiS

ne. Hav-
ind having
lout them,
IS did also

io severely

,nt contra-

l together,

the crown

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Iter baths,

condition

an tells us

earls, dia-

toned for

can atone

>thes than

who has

I's dollars
:ed to the
ng while
stirring,

-ijUr-

AIR CASTLE DON

he, for the first time, notirtd with envy the loaves of brown
bread and the pots of baked beans which, fresh from the bak-
ing ovens that had been kept going all night, were left on the
door steps, just as now the Sunday newspapers are left.
Something whispered, "If thou be an equal of thy fellows,
command a pot of beans and a loaf of brown bread to follow
thee; and help them to obey by carrying them under thine
arms." He had heard Father Taylor say from the pulpit:
"If I saw a hungry man stealing bread, my tongue would
wither before I would cry, 'Stop, thief!"

If human beings ask for the bread of work and are given
the stone of indifference ; or, if they ask for the egg of subsist-
ence, and are givsn the scorpion of reproach, what wonder if
they sometimes turn to ravening fiends ready for treasons,
stratagems and spoils!

By day Don's courage rose like the sun, but by night his
fears multiplied like the stars. The midnight dens of vice, the
skulking minions of crime and the staggering victims of dissi-
pation filled him with horror. By day Boston appeared like a
belle ; by night, like a hag. Don did not believe in using pious
phvases for superstitious incantations, yet from his young soul
rose a voiceless cry to the Invisible On": "Lead us not into
temptation, but deliver us from evil." Time and again he
recalled the language of the noblest of all human Litanies:
"From all evil and mischief; from sin, from the crafts and
assaults of the devil; from thy wrath, and from everlasting
damnation. Good Lord, deliver us."

At eleven o'clock of a night which was to be memorable
in his life, he found himself in the vicinity of the old North
Church. He knew its history; the story of the signal lantern,
and the Ride of Paul Revere to Lexington. Scn-ething in its
plain old front appealed to his confidence, and he tried all the

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180

AIR CASTLE DON

tip

entrances in the hope that he might find an opening that would
admit him. But the building was closed as tight as the water
lily that shuts itself up at night.

Then he thought of the old historic Copp's Hill Burying
Ground near by, where so many of the colonial fathers and
revolutionary heroes were buried. He determined to spend
the night among its graves, for he fell that he would there be
safe from the interference of the guardians of the night. The
cemetery, propped up by walls, lifts itself quite high above the
level of the surrounding streets. Its winding walks and
heavily shaded grounds, its innumerable graves and diversified
stones and monuments afforded him just the seclusion he
needed. There were gas lights sufficient to enable him to see
the immediate spaces around him. Going to one of the most
isolated portions of the ground, he sat down upon a flat stone
which was supported by several pillars. On looking upon the
face of the stone there was just enough light to enable him to
read the epitaph of Cotton Mather, the foe of Quakers and the
burner of witches. He looked under the stone, not for the
spirit nor for the dust of the stern old puritan, but to see how
much space there was between the under part of the stone and
the surface of the earth.

Here was a lodging for him. Near by there were several
small piles of green clippings which had been cut by a lawn
mower. Some of these clippings he put benescth the broad
stone, and then crawled in and made himself up for a peaceful
night's rest. He pulled up his coat collar for a quilt, drew his
hat over his eyes for a curtain, and put his two hands under
his head for a pillow. It was a grotesque anticipation of the
end of all ilesh, though the fact did not appeal to his imagin-
ation at that moment. Peepin?r from under the edge of his
hat-rim, he saw a rat moving here and there among the graves,

ii'nrll

AIR 0A8TLB DON

181

and owing to the irregular flickerings of the gas lights the
trees, shrubbery and monuments appeared to be dancing a
stately minuet with the restless shadows. For a moment his
flesh began to creep, but he diverted his fears by thinking:
"If Cotton Mather had half the virtues that are recorded on
the stone above me, there is little danger of his dust beneath
me coming up to interfere with my lodging."

For a long while he laid and listened to the diminishing
sounds of the streets, the play of the wind among the foliage,
and for the striking of the clock bells of the city. Weariness
overcoming watchfulness he finally became unconscious.

About three o'clock he was awakened by the sound of
voices immediately over his head. He next became conscious
of two pairs of legs— one pair in black and the other pair in
gray — hanging down from the top edge of ♦.he stone in thrill-
ing nearness to his head. He was so excited by the discovery,
and his heart throbbed so violently he was sure the strangers
would hear its beats.

The men began to converse, and the subject of their con-
versation left no doubt as to the nature of their characters.

"It's a mighty good haul," said a deep voice at the top of
the black trousers.

"Yes," responded the other with an oath, and in an under-
tone. "But," he added fiercely, "while I was hooking that
ticker, and raking in the lings and the jewelry from the bureau
where the gas was burning, the young woman sat up as
straight as a clothes pin, and blinked at me like an owl. But
when I pinted my gun at her and told her that I'd kill her if
she made a sound, she fell back as limp and as silent as a dish
cloth. I had the bead on her, and at the first breath of sound
would have killed her as dead as a door nail."

"Well, I shinnea through my part of the job as easy as a

■S5

■sa;

iQ^BSBi^EpiMiitBpniPHMf^^

■fi«P""

182

AIB GA8TLB DON

farmer picking his apples," said the first speaker. "The first
room I went into had an old duffer and his wife in it, and the^
was both snoring so loud an engine might have gone in there
whistling and not heard itself. It was there I got them two
gold tickers and them two pocket books, and them little
tinklers. Ot: the other side of the hall I found two youngsters
a-sleeping as accommodative as these dead blokes around in
these here graves. There I scaled two more tickers, two
purses, and this here handsome seven-shooter; and they kept
as still all the time as if the angels were fanning of them."

"And the swag we pulled from the silver closet is solid
silver, as sure as nuts," remarked his companion, as he cHiik-
ingly tested one of the pieces upon the stone. "I guess it'll
be some time before the chap that's under this stone'll have
another such a layout over him," and altnough Don knew that
the words referred to the dead, they startled him almost as
much as if they meant him.

"It's a blamed good job for beginners," was the chuckling
reply. "And now let's count the inside of these pocketbooks;
they are as fat as the city dads."

Although Don knew that he was in great danger, he was
seized with an irresistible inclination to sneeze, and finding
that it was impossible for him to suppress the untimely tend-
ency, he accompanied the explosion with an outcry that was
so prolonged and curdling the robbers with an exclamation of
terror fled from the spot leaving their spoils and dropping
their hats as they ran.

Here was fresh cause for alarm on Don's part. The police
on some of the aajacent streets would certainly be brought to
the spot by his startling cry, and he would be implicated in
the robbery. But no one came. It seemed an age from the
flight of the men to the dtwn of the day. He crawled cau-

■iiiiiiiiiiii.iiii'ntvni'i

:;l

»»

. -i; ■•■J.

-%,

.Mi*

■ (- -J^

»!>«7

■*«-

■r.i

• 'I

Ain OABTLB. DON

tiously from under the stone and was met by a display of
wealth that was dazzling to one on the very verge of starvation.
He promptly and hastily bundled everything into the bag from
which the robbers had drawn their plunder, and v/ith the
unwelcome burden on his back and the two forsaken hats in
his hand he started for the nearest police station. The early
morning stragglers looked curiously at him as he passed, but
his greatest dread was lest the police should cross his path and
find the plunder in his possession before he could clear himself
by delivering it at the station.

Marching straight up to the two officers who were behind
the station desk, engaged in an earnest conversation, he deliv-
ered the bag into their possession, and while they examined
the contents he told his story from the time of his entrance into
the cemetery to the time of his leaving it.

The bag contained four gold watches, one revolver, several
pieces of costly jewelry, upwards of three hundred dollars in
bills, several notes of hand and one large check.

"This is a very strange story you tell," said one of the men,
who proved to be the captain of the precinct, "but fortunately
for you, circumstances are in your favor, and we have the
evidence to prove that you have done one of the best detective
jobs that was ever done in this district. One of our officers
was nearly run down by two bareheaded fellows who were
chasing down Salem street as though the whole department
was at their heels. They are now in the lockup, and, unques-
tionably, these hats belong to them. One of the men has black
trousers, and the other gray, as you have said. Could you
recognize them?"

"I did not see their faces for the reason I have stated," said
Don immensely relieved by the turn of affairs, and by the
believing words of the officer. "If you could get them to talk

L^i:xr<'

I-iiuliaiaJiSi.

■j--^.-::;^^

184

AIR 0A8TLB DON

In my presence without letting them know of my connection
with the case, I tliink I shouKl recognize their voices."

"Well, we'll see about that; but I am afraid that jou'U be
puzzled. While they thought they had a sure thing their
voices would sound one way, but now tliat they are jugged,
they may sound altogether diflferent. The boy that's getting a
spanking doesn't speak as he did while laying in the goodies
from the pantry. However, we'll have them brought in and
see what we can do with these hats."

The men had given the names of Cranston and Grimlow,
and when they were brought in, Don thought that they were as
villainous a pair as he had seen during the wholtf of his own
nocturnal advejitures.

There was quuc a difference in the sizes of the hats, and
when the men were brought to the desk, the astute officer took
the larger of the two and with great apparent suavity and sim-
plicity said to the larger headed criminal: "Here is your hat,
Mr. Cranston." With similar politeness, he added: "And
this smaller one is yours, Mr. Grimlow." '

Not suspecting the trap laid for them, each man received
his hat as a matter of course; but they winced when the
captain, lifting the bag from beneath his desk placed the con-
tents in full view, s?ying: "I am afraid that your title to this
property is not as good as the title you have to your hats, and
I presume that you did not know that we had a detective under
that tombstone last night. You doubtless thought that the
dead had risen to bear witness against you when you heard that
outcry, when it was only this witness we happened to have
there," and he pointed to Don, as he spoke. "He wasn't in
imiform last night, as you perceive, but all the same he picked
up what you left, including your hats, and brought it in. I
am glad that our officers have taken you in so that you

ronncction

t jou'll be
hiiig their
re jugged,
i getting a
le goodies
;ht in and

Grimlow,
ly were as
)f his own

hats, and

flficer took

' and sim-

your hat,

d: "And

received
when the

the con-

e to this

lats, and
ive under

that the
eard that

to have
A'asn't in
[e picked

it in. I
;hat you

Allt CASTLE DON

185

might have another opportunity to look upon tins pluiider.
It would he good policy to own up to the wliolc transaction,
for by so doing you may shorten your time in tlie
penitentiary,"

Before he could go furtiier witii the sweating jjrocess, and
before the pair had uttered a wortl, he was reinforced by five
persons who entered the station in what might be called 'a
state of mind.' One was a fat, ponderous, well dressed Ger-
man; another was his wife, equally obese and well dressed;
and the remaining three consisted of his pretty daughter and
two grown sons. All were more or less out of breath.

"Ach! you bolice vas goot for noddins!" exclaimed the
irate head of the party before he was half way across the floor.
"You petter puts some betticoats on, vor you lets us pe robbed
und killed yust as though ve vas nopoddy but poor beoples mit
no monish to pay our taxes."

Here his eye fell upon the spoils displayed upon the cap-
tain's desk. The veins on his forehead distended notwith-
standing the thickness and tightness of his skin as he said:
"Gott in himmel! Dot vas our bropertyl How vas you get
it so soon?"

He was interrupted by his daughter who, pointing to one
of the prisoners angrily said: "That is the man who threat-
ened to shoot me last night! Oh, you contemptible coward!
I should like to see you hung higher than Haman!"

"Very good," said the captain complacently, and not with-
out amusement, "Now, if some of you will identify the other
prisoner, we shall be in a fair way to provide both of them with
a strong home in the State Hotel."

The family were residents of the captain's precinct and
were quite well known to him. Mr. Vonberg and his two
sons were the owners of a prosperously large clothing house

186

AIR 0A8TLB DON

I V

in the business portion of the city. The head of the family was
still fuming under the irritation caused by the invasion of his
house, and he replied to the captain's question somewhat
wrathily by saying: "How vas ve identify anypuddy ven ve
vas schleeping und minding our own pusiness so hard dot ve
don't know noddins, except dot von what keeps ervake?"

"Well," said the captain, "you can identify this property
fast enough."

"Yas; ve don't hafe to keep ervak vor dot, und ve vas dake
it home mit us dis very minute."

"We shall have to wait for the end of the prosecution and
for the order of the court before we can do that, Mr. Vonberg.
But you need have no anxiety about the safety of it."

"I guess dot vas so; but how vas you get it so quick?"

After sending the prisoners back to their cells, the captain
began his explanations with the introduction of Don to the
family. "He was our detective in this busin?ss, and you are
indebted to him for the safety of the property, which he
brouglit here shortly before your arrival." And he went on,
and mid a running fire of questions and exclamations from
each member of the family, explained the particulars of the
case. But none of them could understand how any innocent
person could be so unfortunate as to be compelled to take
lodgings in a graveyard before his death; or how, being so
destitute, he could be honest enough to give up what had, wivh
such seeming opportuneness, fallen into his hands.

The captain was a good judge of human nature, and having
been greatly prepossessed in Don's favor, he strenuously
defended him from all suspicion of dishonesty or insincerity;
and he ended by saying: "The least you can do for the return
of your valuables is to make some provision for his immediate
needs."

thi
in]

so
th
ar

lO!

Tl
wl:
be

tht
pn
pel
sec
pol
Ur
vol

go
tre
hai
he

ad<
Vc
ad'

>*>.

wmW'

WlRBUWl WX-

AIM CASTT.B DON

187

At this moment an early bird of a reporter, searching for
the early worm of morning news for his evening paper, came
in, and with all the zeal of an experienced professional pounced
upon the case as an exceptionally rich piece of local news. He
probed into details so industriously and deeply that he was
soon in possession of the main facts of Don's history from
the time of his departure from home to the time of his singular
arrival at the police station. Not a word of the account was
lost upon either the policemen or the Vonberg family.
The latter held an animated consultation with one another
while the reporter was busy with his notes, and the result may
be given in Mr. Vonberg's own words.

"Dot boy," said he mellowly, "vas schleeps no more mit
ther deat till he vas deat hisself. Ve dakes him mit us to
preakvast vare he vas hafe some goot glothes put upon him
pefore he eats. He vas putty much the same size as mein
second son, who vas gif him his second suit vrom top to
pottom, vich vas make him look like a young shentlemen.
Un.d ve vas gif him vifty tollars, ven he vas done mit preakvast,
vor dot goncert he sings unner dot gravestone. Den he schall
go mit us to our store, vare ve vas gif him a new trunk und
tree new suits of glothes vor to put in it. Pesides, he schall
hafe a blace in our store vare he vas get six tollars a veek, till
he vas get sefen ven he vas mit us six months."

And turning to the reporter with assumed cunning, he
added: "Yon vas write all dot down mit der pencil erpout
Vonberg und his sons, so dot, it schall make von goot pig
advertisement vor their pusiness."

I will, for a fact!" exclaimed the reporter, generously glad
to know that Don's affairs were taking such a favorable turn.
"And you may depend upon it," he added with warmth, "your
confidence in him is not misplaced. You are not doing a deed

4.mv- ' ' '"

Hj l JJ i|ii ||i i « ll

!'■"«.,» ■!. "Hi

188

AIR CASTLE DON

of charity, but an act of justice, and a good stroke cf business
withal."

Froni Ilia inmost soul, Don blessed the reporter for these
words. In no small degree they helped to melt the ice and
snow from his bending branches, and to restore the self respect
that was so rapidly diminishing under the pressure of poverty
and the accumulation of distrust. The ponderous machinery
of justice, as seen in the police station; of business, as seen in
the Von bergs; of the press, as seen in the reporter, no longer
seemed a mere thing of steel and steam heartlessly thundering
mid the agonies of human souls; the pulsating hand of life was
upon the lever of the machine, and in that life there was a
fountain filled with blood drawn from humanity's veins — a
touch of nature that made all the world kin.

And so, the hapless youth who had returned to Boston
overloaded with pride and distrust, was ready to dump his
unprofitable baggage at the station, where he had been so prof-
itably humbled, and at the same time so wonderfully exalted,
by his growing knowledge of human nature and his increasing
confidence in his fellow beings.

The change, however, was so great and sudden, that he
was as one who walked in dreams. Nor was he fully awak-
ened and conscious of the substantial reality until the honest
Vonberg and his cordial family reminded him that he was to
accompany them home to breakfast.

rMMiili lull II t -■■!•■

.u-*> '. . . ■ — ' ■»- ■

mmm.

'^m

'^ff

r" Twi'T'^Ji "'i^r^^Tt '

•I

of business

■>,,■ ..:• . 1- _ ,..i

r for these
he ice and
self respect
of po\'erty
machinery
as seen in
no longer
hundering
of h'fe was
ere was a
> veins — ^a

to Boston
dump his
n so prof-
y exalted,
increasing

I, that he
lly awak-
lie honest
le was to

CHAPTER XIX.

UNDBR COVKR AGAIN.

Fresh from the bath, and clad in a nobby suit, Don sat at
the table of his host on equal terms with all the members of the
honest and cheerful family. No dregs of humiliation were
mixed with the cup of his satisfaction. The Vonbergs placed
the burden of obligation upon themselves and not upon him,
and without affectation treated him with a respect that was
inspired, not so much by his recovery of their property, nor by
the change in his appearance, as by his easy self possession and
intelligent measurement of the whole situation. Their respect
for him increased their pleasure, for, being generous in their
dispositions, they rejoiced to know that they were to have a
part in the improvement of his fortunes.

At the close of the happy meal, Don said to the parental
Vonberg: "Now, if you will allow me, I will bundle up my
old clothes so that they may be given to the first ragman that
comes along, then I shall have the pleasure of thinking that
they, in course of time, will be sharers of my change for the
better by being turned into something useful."

"Dey vas pundled alretty, so dot you vas hafe no more
potter mit dem; und soon dot ragman vas pe habby because he
vas get dem vor noddins."

"But I should like to save the hat, Mr. Vonberg."

"Safe dot hat! Mein gracious gootness, Mr. Donalds!

>.:.'lt'S<lll^lfe"liM,

'fffmffiim^i'^Mmm' '^'^"mh|

AIR CASTLE DON

Dot hat vas look like it vas stepped on py an elevant. You
vas not vare clot ven you comes to mein store, vas you?"

Don explained its connection with the roundhouse saints,
and with Bob Flanger in particular. "I intend to keep it for
a memento," he said; "that hat once covered the head of as
big hearted a fellow as ever trod among nature's noblemen."

"Ach! Dot vas very goot, mein son! Und you shall hafe
all the old hats in dis house, mit mein daughter Dorothy's
pesides, if you vas keep dem in remembrance of dose Vonperg
saints.'

Dorothy appreciating Don's motives as well as his humor,
which was constantly sparkling from his eyes, brought the
sacred relic, and, after brushing it carefully wrapped it in new
manilla paper and tied the bundle with a narrow blue ribbon.
When she handed it to him she said: "-Your roundhouse
saints are deserving of remembrance, but I should like to keep
the hat myself in remembrance of tlie young gentleman who
was the means of bringing to justice the cowardly sneak who
threatened to shoot me."

Don was saved the embarrassment of an answer to Dorothy
by her father, who said to her: "Veil, mein daughter, you
vas hafe dis hat vat I now gifs him, ven he vas vare it enough
und gifs it pack to you." And he handed Don a hat that
matched the clothes he had on, adding to what he had already
said: "If you vas pe a glothing house saint you vas pe shure
to gif dot hat to Dorothy vor vat you call a memento, ven you
vas vare it out so you don't vant it again. She says dof you
vas a ahentleman, und so you vas 411 der vile dot you vasn't
looks like von. Now you looks yust like vat you vas, und
dot is yusl as it should pe ; and I vas gladt dot dot is so."

When Don reached the store at the foot of Brattle street,
he was surprised by its magnitude, and the variety of its stock,

rir'""^'^-'-

"k>.> ^ ?-*.< :> ^r5#:^^

ly^BPW^ y B W' J!'"'-' """" ' i 'J ""' ' ■ g ' ' -;»y<g*^ ? ww

AIR 0A8TLB DON

ant. You
^ou?"
use saints,
ceep it for
lead of as
oblemen."
shall hafe
Dorothy's
Vonperg

is humor,
>ught the
it in new
e ribbon,
iindhouse
e to keep
jnan who
ealc who

Dorothy
ter, you

enough
hat that

already
>e shure
yen you
do^ you
vasn't
as, und

street,
stock,

y/hich included almost everything suitable to the exterior
respectability of male humanity from a shoe lacing up to valise
and trunk supplies.

The two sons, Werner and Wilhelm, whose names the par-
ental Vonberg had borrowed from one of the masterpieces of
German literature, at once entered upon their business duties,
while the father personally supervised the fulfillment of the
promises made to Don in the police station. Besides filling a
capacious brass-bound trunk with clothes and furnishings suit-
able to the needs and tastes of a respectable boy, he measured
Don for a custom made suit of clothing, which was extra to the
contract.

"Now vare vas you hafe your paggage sent?*' Vonberg
asked when he had snapped the spring lock of the trunk to its
close. "Shall it go to dot blace vare you sleeps mit der stone
last night? Nein! You vas go straight to dot little vidder
und her son und dells dem dot you vas poard mit dem some
more. Und ven dot baper vas come dis efening you vas reat
all about yourself und dose Vonpergs, whose broperty you
hafe safe, und whose store you hafe entered vor a glerk. The
express vagon is at der south door to dake you mit your
paggage, und you vas come here next Montay vor duty."

While Don is on his way back to the widow's family let us
connect the thread of events. Bert had employed every
moment that he could spare to discover the hiding place of his
lost chum, and he had enlisted the sympathies and secured the
assistance, not only of the colonel, but many others who need
not be mentioned.

Thinking that his friend might possibly have shipped on
board some vessel bound for the vicinity of his home, Bert
would have written a letter of inquiry to Don's father had he
not been prevented by the maturer wisdom of Mrs. Williams,

■I

192

AIR CASTLE DON

who feared that such a letter might only cause alarm to the
family.

It was well that he was restrained, for all the while that
Don was in the wilderness his parents supposed that he was
in the book store. The gap in his correspondence was laid to
the preoccupation of his thoughts by the novelties and excite-
ments of city life. That he should be too proud and resoluie
to advise with them in case of need or distress was a thing
they had not thought of, for it not infrequently happens that
boys and girls are as little understood by their families as if
they were ducks hatched in a hen's nest.

On the very morning that Don's fortunes were so oppor-
tunely resurrected from beneath the Copp's Hill tombstone,
Bert was pluckily iioping and plaiming for- hi!> restoration to
their attic comradeship. "I'll not give up yet," he said to his
mother after breakfast. "Put me up a pocket lunch so that I
can spend my noon hour searching for him among the
machine shops and foundries of the South Side. We went
over there once to see the Globe Iron Works, and while we
were going through them Don pulled me up in front of a new
locomotive and said, that the mechanics who could put
together such work as that, were doing better and greater work
than ever old Vulcan did when he made the war shield for
Achilles. He was so enthusiastic over what he saw that he
declared that if he had to begin again he. would try to get into a
machine shop even though he had to begin by shovelling ashes
and sleeping under a machine bench. He may be doing this
very thing and keeping himself low till he can get himself into
shape again."

And inspired by his hopes, Bert pocketed his lunch and
tripped away whistling so loudly upon the street that a police-

■iW If im'i ' ii ■ ww^im » ^ » y^ f[mm ^\ ■ . irT7»T»M^j|j|g>^p|

AIR 0A8TLB DON

■ .1 i9ig'p,|(|jijyB5#'|W w f^fjis

198

man with a sensitive ear curtly commanded him to pull in his
lips.

But Nora was in no mood for whistling, or the indulgence
of any of its girlish equivalents. She had conscientiously
applied all her Bible threats to Miss Agincourt for intei'-
meddling with Don's business, and had just as scrupulously
appropriated all the promises to herself for being such a
champion of his character, but without deriving much comfort
from either process.

"Mother," she said, as soon as Bert had closed the door
behind him, "I meet that slanderous old maid almost every
day, and the more I frown at her, the more she smiles at me.
What's the use of the threats and promises, that you say will
right all things at last, if she's to keep on smiling and I'm to
keep on crying? And the worst of it is, I have prayed every
morning and every night for the Lord to bring Don back to
us and it doesn't do any more good than if I were to try
to raise flowers upon the pavement of the streets. If you
knew where Don was, and I were to ask you about him, you
wouldn't keep me in the dark; and I think that the Lord ought
to be as good as my mother. The first thing you know I shall
be a heretic and an unbeliever, and will be going off to hear
Theodore Parker, just like other wicked people."

"Nora, Nora!" exclaimed her mother greatly shocked to
hear such unwonted things from her daughter's lips. "You
are bordering close upon blasphemy."

Alarmed by her mother's expression of horror, Nora fled
to her room and endeavored to expiate her sin by praying and
confessing depths of iniquity she had never been guilty of and
by forming resolutions she could never perform. While she
was thus futilely engaged, an express wagon rattled up to the
front of the house, and immediately afterward there came a

ry ' >' '' Mfff j! W^|f?¥T^'?!^

AIR OASTLB DON

■^ y:

vigorous pull at the bell. Curiosity overmastering devotion,
Nora arose from her knees with more haste than solemnity,
and opened her door just in time to hear her mother say in the
hall below:

"Thank God, you are safe, Don !"

"Yes, safe as a steeple, and back again like a bad penny,"
was the characteristic reply she heard.

Rushing headlong down the stairs she gained such an
impetus by the time she reached the hall, that Don, to prevent
her from running against something harder than himself,
caught her in his arms, and then to reward himself for his
forethought, kissed her warrnly before he released her again.

"You have been crying, Nora," he said, as she drew back
from him like a startled bird. "What has troubled you?"

Beginning to realize that she had made a revelation of her-
self in more ways than one her blood tingled from head to feet
and her face was an aurora of changing colors. Seeing how
well dressed he was, she plunged into another conP'ct of
thought and feeling which made her breath come and go in
short quick gasps.

"Oh, Don!" she pitifully exclaimed, "it wasn't you I saw on
the Common in that awful state. You didn't run away from
me, did you?"

As she looked steadily into his face for an answer, she
noticed how wan and worn he looked, and saw that traces of
his wound still remained upon his cheek. "Yes," she said,
"it was you, and you did run away from me. How could you
do it, when we were all so anxious about yon?"

Beginning to understand how g^eat. a cloud he had cast
over the widow and her children by not confiding in them
more, he humbly replied: "Give me time and I will explain
everything, and when I have done that you will not blame me.

> ■>'*^^^-'li

f devotion,

solemnity,

' say in the

ad penny,"

d such. an
to prevent
m himself,
lelf for his
her again,
drew back
you?"
ion of her-
lead to feet
iceing how
conP'ct of
and go in

a I saw on
iway from

iswer, she
traces of
she said,

could you

had cast

in them

explain

lame me.

AIR 0A8TLB DON

195

But I cannot explain just now — it is too long a story. And,
besides, I must attend to business first. Is my attic still
vacant? Will you tike me to board again?"

"Take you?" said the little mother, smiling through her
tears. "You do not know how much we have missed you,
and how we have grieved over you! Bert will be almc'>t
beside himself when he comes home and finds that ^ou arc
safe and well. You shall have our room, and Nora and I will
move up into the attic."

"Guess not," said Don, bluntly. "If you knew how I have
longed to get back to that attic, you wouldn't talk about pack-
ing me into any other room and cutting me off from Bert. I
shall not wait for your permission, but will take possession as
if I were lord of the manor."

"Come here. Brassy," he went on, addressing his new and
glittering trunk, "it is time for you to be climbing up in the
world." He made an attempt to life the trunk to his shoulder,
but in his weakened state he was unequal to the burden and he
protestingly consented to let Nora and her mother assist him
in the task.

"Thank Heaven 1 Here I am again!" he said after entering
the room. "But who has been here?" he suddenly asked, after
noticing that several improvements had been made in the
arrangements.

"Nobody but Nora and Bert," the widow replied. "They
have always said that you would come back, and so they have
worked at the room more or less every day to make it more
attractive for you."

"And all the while I have been saying to myself, they will
soon forget that there was ever such a person as Don
Donalds," said Don.

Forget 1" exclaimed Nora indignantly. "You must have

Z~£^

"•■IS t:-j3%-SI

196

AIR CASTLE DON

Strange ideas about friendship. Why didn't you come to us
while you had those awful clothes on and while your wound
needed care? You look thin and worn, and I solemnly
believe that you have been in the worst kind of trouble. I
didn't think that you would be so mean as to stay away from us
when you needed us most. Why didn't you come before?

"Well, the fact is, I was ''tnting for a streak of luck, and as
I did not find it until last nig , I could not very well get here
before this morning."

"Where were you last night?"

"Under a tombstone, where I found my luck. You may
read all about it in the Evening Transcript, and when you have
done that, I'll not object to any question you may see fit to
ask."

"Under a tombstone — and in the paper!" and Nora caught
at the words as if they contained some dreadful secret.

"Wait till Bert comes home to dinner," pleaded Don; who
was really too much exhausted to undergo the ordeal of relat-
ing the harrow'ng details of his recent experiences without
first bracing himsvlf up for it.

"He will not be home to dinner," said Nora. "He took a
lunch with him, so that he might search for you among the
South Boston machine shops and foundries during his noon
hour. He has searched for you almost every day since I saw
you on the Common, and has grown thin worrying about you."

All along, since his return to the house, Don had been
keeping a tight rein upon his f^-elings; now they broke bounds,
and his self possession forsook him entirely. His head seemed
to be floating away from him, and he had only strength enough
left to say brokenly: "Please leave me until I cart collect
myself, for I am worn out,"

Frightened more by the sight of his tears than by hints of

>A. s-'iiS. ;^-.;

':iy^l

lfU.|l^«|P||l I i

AIR CASTI.E DON

come to us

your wound

I solemnly

trouble. I

way from us

before?

uck, and as

veil get here

You may
en you have
ay see lit to

Nora caught

cret.

:d Don; who

deal of relat-

ices without

"He took a
i among the
tig his noon

since I saw
about you."
•n had been
oke bounds,
lead seemed
igth enough

cart collect

by hints of

his adventures, Nora begged forgiveness, and with her mother
left the room. They had no sooner gone than Don threw
himself upon the bed and fell into a profound slumber which
lasted till evening. Haunted by vague apprehensions the little
mother repeatedly went to him but finding him asleep each
time did not disturb him, while Nora wandered about the house
impatiently waiting for the evening papers, and for her
brother, who, she was certain, wo.Md dispel the clouds that
darkened her thoughts.

Meanwhile, curiosity was rampant at the Covert house.
When the express wagon reached the widow's door, Miss
Agincourt, who was addicted to that uncanny habit of per-
verted natures, nail-biting, sat at her window gratifying her
appetite for herself by nibbling at her finger nails with as much
avidity as if they were bonbons. Ceasing from her feast she
seized her lorgnette and leveled it upon Don and his new
trunk. Here was a trial for her faith — for her confident belief
in Don's downfall. Impatiently taking a gormandizing bite
at her right thumbnail, which already resembled a mutilated
duck-bill, she hurried down stairs to confer with the kindred
souls of Covert and his wife.

"That Donalds boy is back again," ohe said, petulantly, and
jerking her head and twisting her lips for emphasis; "and what
is very strange, he has a big new trunk with him and is more
stylishly dressed than he ever was before."

Assuming an air of the most disinterested solicitude, Mrs.
Covert replied: "If his fortunes have changed he should have
come back to us, for I am sure that his brothers would not
approve of his boarding on the other side of the Square,"

Nettled to think that her envy was not directly approved,
Miss Agincourt resorted to insinuation, her favorite weapon,
saying: "It is more than likely that his brothers are content

196

AIR 0A8TLB DON

to let him keep out of sight. While they were here they
never so much as mentioned his name. I hope that my old
bachelor uncle has not been wasting any more money upon
him." By this last remark she exposed the secret of her hos-
tility to Don; expecting legacies in the event of the colonel's
death, she was morbidly jealous of every one to whom he
happened to take a fancy.

"The widow is using her imp of a daughter as a bait for a
boarder," said Covert, contemptuously. And thus the whole-
some trio continued for some time to interpret the widow's and
Don's affairs by the little fire-bug lights they carried under
their own wings.

t^-^vj^lh, .^■>*-;S

.4.r.:*\Ci-.^- ■*'- '■"•*■■" ■ ■^■'^'*^' ■*

; here they
:hat my old
loncy upon
of her hos-
he colonel's
} whom he

a bait for a
I the whole-
ividow's and
rried under

CHAPTER XX.

A QUBRR TEMPTATION.

When Bert returned he burst into the liouie like a besom
flourishing an evening paper around his head so triumphantly
it was on the verge of being reduced to tatters, Before he
could open his mouth to express his torrid excitement, Nora
unwittingly increased it by telling him that Don was in the

attic.

Throwing the paper into his mother's lap, and without
stopping to heed her remonstrances against intruding upon
Don's slumbers, he ran up the stairs as if his feet were winged
like those of Mercury and entered the room without ceremony.
The riot of his joy was suddenly checked when he looked upon
the face of his chum, it was so changed by the m.arks his trials
had left upon it. Seeing that he did not stir, and prompted by
an ungovernable longing, Bert sat upon the edge of the bed
and leaning over threw his left arm around Don.

"Wake up! Wake up, you everlasting good for nothing
scamp!' he exclaimed with feelings that were quiveringly at
variance with the letter of his words.

"Scampi" The words pierced the sleeper's dull senses like
a splinter, and forthwith he was thrown into a long compli-
cated nightmare of congested misfortunes through which he
fell into abysmal depths with the velocity of lightning, while
hoarse echoes accused him of being a lost and irredeemable
vagabond and 'scamp.'

(199)

UtimiMmiiJiumimmdliiiiltim

iii

mmmft

i, » Li i M] i i..M i y. iii | i iiij i ii,«iiji.iiL j tj i iM ii ;^iJi|^y '

200

Ain CA8TLE DON

The horror of that descent so stirred his chain-botind facul-
ties that by a supreme convulsion of energy he seized the >'dge
of a projecting crag, and with a long drawn sigh of infinite
relief climbed back into daylight and a bright world again.

Seeing Bert's eyes, within a foot of his own, glimmering
through unmistakable tears, and finding that his own heart
was puffing up like an airy bubble ready to vanish into nothing
again he stretched forth his arms, saying brokenly: "Let's
have a hug, old fellow."

When that sacred act was over, he arose with something
of his former springiness, and after plunging his face into cold
water and drying it again, he, with towel still in hand, stood
looking at Bert as mutely as though his tongue had melted
and slipped down his throat.

"Well!" he finally articulated, "how are you, you awful
boy?" It was not much of a speech, yet it was enough to let
the steam on, and after it their tongues went ahead like a pair
of linked locomotives.

"If I were able," Bert began, "I would take hold of you and
shake you around this room worse than you ever shook that
Phillips and Sampson boy around that bookstore."

"Yes, shake him," interrupted Nora, bursting into the
room just in time to hear the shake part of the sentence, "but
in addition b*" ought to be scourged forty times save one.

"Whom would you save the one for?" asked Don, reflecting
the exultation and joy that shone so brightly in her
countenance.

"For myself," she retorted quickly, and it ought to be as
heavy as all the rest put together, for allowing myself to tor-
ment you with my giddy and impertinent questions when you
were all worn out. But, Oh, Don, after all, I couldn't help it,
could I?"

■tt

Ain CASTLE DON

201

"Let's

"I rather think not, seeing that you are a girl," he replied,
laughing in spite of his endeavor to keep sober.

She had the evening paper in her hand; she had rapidly
read the sympathetic reporter's succinct yet graphic account of
Don's adventures, and was so tossed between conflicting feel-
ings and conjectures that she became incoherent the moment
she undertook to express herself.

Having made several futile attempts to get at the things
that lay between the printed lines, she was impatiently inter-
rupted by her brother, who was himself eager to ask a thous-
and questions more or less.

"Now, Gipsy," he said, calling her by the name that he
himself had fastened upon her, "please put a padlock upon
your mouth for a season. A little pitcher like you ought to
be seen and not heard — at least not until the bigger one has
had its say. I am going to call Don to a strict account for his
'sins and transgressions,' as you are fond of saying when you
wish to whip either of us around a stump. If there is anything
left after I get through you can pick it up and handle it as
you please.

"But in the first place, let me tell him what a picnic I had
this afternoon. I was behind the counter feeling as glum as
an apple paring that has lost its insides, when Mr. Ticknor
called me into the counting room and handed me the paper
containing the account of 'Don Donald's Resurrection,' and
'His Debut in the Role of a Detective.' Mr. Ticknor had
become interested in the mystery of your fate, and in my
attempts to solve it, and when he gave me the paper and told
me to take time to read the flaming local, his eyes were rather
watery, though his lips were doing their best to smile.

"Before I had time to finish the story, the colonel came
swinging in looking as if he had just closed the Mexican War.

•aiimm

Ml HJimjumMiODiBI Wi

: t

m^fmm

202

ilili!ii^-^'^''^s;f?:^pP

AIR CASTLE DON

He, too, had been reading about that tombstone business and
had brought a paper over for me to read. Finding that I was
already deep in the story, he and Mr. Ticknor began to talk
and laugh rejoicingly over your coming to life again.

"The upshot of it was, they packed me down to Brattle
street to see how much of the story was true. When I got
there, that old Mr. Vonberg had just got through reading
about you and himself and was so excited that he deluged me
with a perfect flood of broken lingo from which, however, I
was able to make out that everything the reporter wrote was
true. When he said that you had gone straight to the widow's
house after leaving his store, I should have blubbered if I had
not braced myself up by saying that you was an idiot for not
having gone there before. He objected strongly to that view
of your conduct, and nonplussed me by saying that if you had
not made your bed under a gravestone, his family would not
have recovered their property, nor would the robbers have
been brought to Justin Although he has a broken tongue,
he has a long head, and judging from what he said, he has
taken a strong fancy to you on your own account.

"When I got back to the store, Mr. Ticknor was reading
your adventures to Grace Greenwood and Ralph Waldo
Emerson, who had happened in during my absence. I made
my report, and then you ought to have heard the chattering
they did, and all about you. Mr. Emerson told me to give
you his sincere compliments, and to say to you for him that
hereafter you must take for your motto, 'Nil Desperandum.'
And lest I should get the motto wrong end foremost, he
repeated it and explained it. The others said such a message
from such a man was as much as I could carry at one time.
But they wanted me to let you know that they all said, ditto.

"So there you are, old fellow, with your name in the papers

- ^''''

-$')'••:

tttUmmtm

uy i Hiiyj^jupf iji^

siness and
that I was
an to talk
n.

to Brattle
hen I got
;h reading
eluged me
lowever, I
wrote was
le widow's
jd if I had
lot for not
1 that view
if you had
would not
>bers have
;n tongfue,
id, he has

as reading
?h Waldo
;. I made
chattering
ne to give
r him that
)erandum.'
•emost, he
a message
one time,
said, ditto,
the papers

[■ H I— y y)j » !i]H i'i r i

AIR CASTLE DON

203

in good style, and in the hearts of people who are worth having
for friends, and next week you will be in Vonberg's store as
big as life, taking your first lessons in selling the outward signs
of respectability.

"Upon the whole I am almost glad you started for the
West, though I must still protest that if you had gone as far
as that awful Chicago, it would have been the total end of
you. I should be willing to go as far as Albany myself if I
could come out of the big end of the horn as you have."

"God forbid that you should ever be as I have been !" said
Don fervently, shuddering at the bare recollection of the
anguish he had endured.

They were interrupted by the tea bell, and Bert did not
get an opportunity to reach the lash of his intention till quite
late in the evening. After tea they were surprised by a call
from the colonel, who said: "I did not think of coming when
we sent our compliments from Ticknor's; but after I got away
from business I became strongly desirous of seeing what a
resurrected boy looks like. You do not appear to be quite as
rugged as you were when I last saw you. Still, you look quite
substantial for one who has graduated from beneath a grave
stone."

"There is enough of me left to make another start," said
Don, "although I must confess that I feel as if I had passed
through a very grave crisis."

"Of course — of course," the colonel responded, smilingly.
"And hearing you speak so gravely of making another start
reminds me to tell j ou that you have fallen into the hands of
one of my best friends, and a Teuton of the first water. Mr.
Vonberg was the major of my regiment; a braver soldier
never went into battie, and a kinder man never came out of
one. The sons are chips of the old block, and the firm is one

i i»' II I .) j i ui| i | W« miMM» l li»l|Jl l fc l lll«HJ]

■' tV ' i ? g"

H iii | ii HH j » ; i ! i lii B.ii.JMJ

AIR CASTLE DON

of the best in Boston. I am going around to see him this
evening, and I shall take care that his good impression of you
suffers nothing from my visit.

"But before I go there I shall call upon my niece, Arabella.
She swears — if she ever swears at all — by the Evening Tran-
script, from which she has doubtless learned by this time that
you were not born to be trampled into the mire. If she has
not learned this much I shall try to open her understanding
by droppin" a little oil upon the hinges of her mind." And
the peculiar emphasis he threw into his words left the impres-
sion upon the boys that his lubrications would not be drawn
from that oil of gladness the prophet speaks of.

When the colonel entered the Covert house he found his
niece holding the Transcript in her lap as if it were a pet cat
or pug, although her countenance was far from being the epi-
tome of satisfaction that such a burden is supposed to inspire.
She had read Don's adventures with decidedly mixed emo-
tions; indeed, she was trying to navigate herself between
Scylla and Charybdis; in other words, she was in a strait
betwixt her animosities and her sympathies. She had nearly
concluded that it was better co depart — from her animosities,
and to be — with her sympathies; for, to do her justice, the
thick powder on her face had not entirely smothered the higher
sensibilities of her nature.

"Ah, I see that you have been reading about Don," said
the colonel, looking at her with such a penetrating glance that
she instinctively let her eyelids droop.

"Yes, I have read that extraordinary story, but I doubt its
truth."

"Oh, of course! You doubt everything that runs counter
to your prejudices. I take especial pleasure in informing you
that every word of that account is true; the only fault to be

pm «■

AIR CASTLE DON

205

him this
on of you

Arabella,
ing Tran-
time that
f she has
Tstanding
d." And
le impres-
be drawn

found his
: a pet cat
g the epi-
to inspire,
ixed emo-
f between
n a strait
lad noarly
tiimosicies,
iistice, the
the higher

)on," said
[lance that

'. doubt its

is counter
•ming you
ault to be

found with it is that the half has not been told. I have called
to say to you that if hereafter you interfere with him in any
way I shall cut you off from my will with a shilling."

Arabella was on intimate terms with the Vonbergs, and she
understood that her uncle's visit was intended to anticipate
her in any possible adverse influence she might wield over that
amiable family. His threat led her to swift repentance, and
she became precipitately forward to promise all manner of
good concerning her future relations to Don.

The colonel went on to the Vonbergs chuckling over the
success of his missionary efforts. But while he was smoking
a pipe with his old comrade in arms, and discussing Don's
adventures and character, he took good care to inform the
major oi his niece's failings and to warn him against her
prejudices. "She was the means of his leaving our store," he
said, bitterly, "and the direct cause of all his suffering. The
old cat has promised not to touch the bird again, but as easy
promises do not often change a hard nature, I am determined
that she shall not have another chance to strike her claws into
him."

"If she vas drife him to dot gravestone I vas hafe to thank
her vor saiing our broperty, und den I vas tell her she needn't
do dot some more," said the major with a grave face, yet
twinkling eyes.

Dorothy listened to the conversation, and thinking that her
father's levity was ill-timed, she heatedly said: "If Arabella
says anything against that boy here, she will get into hot
water."

"Und dot vill be goot vor her gomblection," he responded
while placidly watching a circle of smoke he had just blown
from his lips.

"I see that the trial of those burglars is to begin to-morrow

206

AIR OASTLB DON

- ir

r. *

morning," said the colonel, "and I suppose you will all have to
go into court as witnesses. I should like to attend myself,
for it is likely to prove amusing as well as interesting."

The trial was interesting beyond all expectation, and the
lawyer who defended the robbers indulged in a piece of legal
jugglery that almost upset the gravity of Judge Russell, who
was the husband of one of Father Taylor's daughters, a regular
attendant at the Mariners' Church, and who was quite well
acquainted with Don's antecedents before he made his unfor-
tunate trip to Albany. The lawyer's defence was intended
chiefly to secure a mitigation of sentence. And the theory of
his side included the assumption that Don was himself an
accomplice of the burglars, and that the other two, supposing
that they heard the approach of a policeman in the cemetery,
fled incontinently, leaving the plunder with Don, who, being
the most hardened of the three, was not so easily alarmed.
It was also assumed that, while escaping with the plunder, he
saw a policeman apparently following him, and, thereupon to
secure himself, turned into the station with it, and there related
an impromptu story accounting for the bag being in his pos-
session. From the evidence elicited from Don concerning his
wanderings and night experiences, he tried to build up a claim
that he was nothing but a vagabond with such a surplus of
smartness as would naturally make him a precocious criminal
of the first water.

Arabella being present, instead of being astounded by this
ingenious piece of sophistry, really began to hope that it would
prove true. Don perspired in helpless amazement at this
aspect of the case, while Bert, who sat at his side, laughed so
openly that the court officer was compelled to punch him into
sobriety.

f w f ^ i g ' njit ' i ■WAIV/'W !^'^!!^

AIR OASTLB DON

207

The defence was so weak it fell at th'^ first breath of the
prosecutor, and the burglars were sentenced to fifteen years in
the penitentiary.

Don had often, in his air castle moods, aspired iu appear in
print. Two pin-feathered poems of his had been published in a
weekly paper when he was at an age in which most boys are
content if they are quit of petticoats and pinafores. He was
now in print to his heart's content, for as both local and
general news was scarce, the reporters made the most of all
the circumstances connected with his case. He was, indeed,
beginning to feel uneasy in the glare of publicity, and fre-
quently reminded himself of Peter Piper's warnings against
trying to mount the airy ladder which only angels can ascend
or descend with safety or comfort.

Bert, with vindictive gusto, replied to his self depreciating
fears by saying: "But just think what a torment it must be
for that tallow-faced Deacon Wickworth and that peppermint-
eating Arabella to see the kind things that have been said of
you in the city papers. It's as good as if their chairs had been
stuck full of big pins. You will go into the Vonberg store
with flying colors, and that will be worse than fire and brim-
stone to the small cannibal souls that would have made roast
meat of you."

When Don reported for duty at the store he was handed
a package of forty-one fat letters, the largerpart of which were
addressed in feminine handwriting. The package had been
accumulating ever since the morning following the publica-
tion of the Copp's Hill incident. Although greatly surprised
at this influx of correspondence and curious to know what it
meant, he would have laid the letters by till after businses
hours had not the major insisted upon his taking time to give
them his immediate attention.

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206

AIB 0A8TLB DON

The letters were from anonymous sympathizers who, with
a solitary exception enclosed money for Don's benefit. The
total of these contributions was two hundred and eighty-six
dollars. Don was profoundly moved, as were the Vonbergs
also, by this sympathetic display ot modest generosity on the
part of entire strangers.

After a moment of silence Don surprised the major and his
sons by saying: "Not one dollar of that money belongs to
me, and my duty is clear. I shall bank it, and then go straight
to the papers and give notice that I am not in need of assist-
ance, and shall request my unknown friends to recall their gifts.
The very sight of that money makes me feel as if I were an
imposter preying upon people whose sympathies have run
away with their judgments."

The major and the younger son remonstrated against his
plan as being equivocal in spirit and impracticable for .execu-
tion. The elder son thought the poini of honor well taken and
approved Don's determination. Stacking the letters upon the
desk and stuffing the money in his |)ockets, Don departed
upon his errand.

"Veil, py Jubitor, und all the rest of dose heathen vellers!"
exclaimed the major, explosively, as he disappeared, "dot poy's
brincibles vas like chilled steel vat you can neither bend nor
break. Vat you say, mein sons, if ve vas make him cashier at
ten dollars a veek instead of sefen? My colonel say mit me
yesterday dot he vas goot at writing und goot at figtires und
goot at eferything."

The cashiership had been vacant for several weeks, and the
sons approved of their father's suggestion with enthusiasm.

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who, with

nefit. The

eighty-six

Vonbergs

sity on the

jor and his
belongs to
go straight
d of assist-
I their gifts.
I were an
I have run

against his
for f xecu-
I taken and
rs upon the
n departed

en vellers!"
, "dot poy's
r bend nor
1 cashier at
say mit me
iig-ures und

;ks, and the
[lusiasm.

■■•wwwi;';

i2:id'*is?i'.*«(Fv!ie#-t'**j

A TKLtlNO ILLUSTRATION.

There is enough water under the great Sahara Desert to
make it blossom as the rose, and there is enough benevolence
underneath the howling wilderness of society to work the same
wonders for itself should it ever be sufficiently tapped. From
this vast latent fountainhead have come forth the streams which
have ameliorated the horrors of war. of famine, of plagues and
the desolations that have been wrought by hurricanes, con-
flagrations and all the other untoward forces that devastate the
earth.

In 1 SI all way Don had tapped this hidden fountain of
benevolence, and once started it was not easy to stop. The
notice to his unknown friends was, as he had been forewarned
by the newspaper men, futile so far as the recalling of ;heir
gifts was conce|Tied. And not only so, but the recent trial,
together with the comments of the friendly newspaper men, so
augmented the stream of gifts that the sum mentioned in the
previous chapter was more than doubled.

"You vas hafe to vait till it stops raining," said the major,
"pefore you can sleep out toors again or hafe any more afflic-
tions. You vas hafe a mind of your own, und the bublic vas
hafe some mind of its own as veil as you vas."

And this conviction "was triumphantly expressed by Bert
himself, who had vainly tried to argue and to ridicule Don out
of what he called his country notions of honor and honesty.

(209)

i"fiVltfli<ilNfr'i'ti'riliSl"'¥iMfeftifcii

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MitujA^mMm

t".W„l\j^,l'f,fffW

ri.

AIR CA8TLR DON

Some of the later gifts were sent anonymously through the
ofHces of the papers, and the fact was mentioned in their col-
umns. This provoked a correspondent \o intimate that Don
was taking advantage of the puhlic, and the insinuation so
rankled in his mind he could scarcely cat or sleep.

Something in the correspondent's letter excited the
colonel's suspicion that Arabella had written it, but on being
questioned she strenuously denied having any knowledge of
its authorship. Not until he obtained the original copy and
confronted her with her own signature did she acknowledge
her transgression. Having a West Pointer's ideas of truth
and honor, he washed his hands of all further dealings with
her and left her to the conviction that she had effectually cut
off the limb in wl.ich she had hoped to build her old-age nest.
It was in vain that she tried to regain his favor by publishing
a second letter confessing that she was unjust in the first. He
was implacable. ,

The annoyance Don suffered from her malice was swal-
lowed up by a paragraph he happened to see in one of the
nioi-ning papers. It v/as a brief chronicle of the fact that Bob
Flanger, the engineer, and Jake Cullum, his fireman, had both
been killed in a railway collision. The death of these two
roundhouse saints who had been so signally kind to him in his
distress aflfected him deeply, and practically as well.

Wiring to Albany, he found that he could reach there in
time for the funeral of the two men.

"Can I go?" he asked of the major, after informing him of
all the circumstances.

"Go, und Gott pless you, mein poy," said the major, tear-
fully appreciating the spirit that animated his young cashier.

Getting off at Greenbush. the scene of his first misfortune,
he went directly to the roundhouse, where he was speedily

AIR CASTLE DON

through the
in their col-
ktc tiiat Don
sinuation so
I,

excited the
but on being
inowledge of
lal copy and
acknowledge
leas of truth
lealings with
flfectually cut
old-age nest.
)y publishing
:he first. He

ce was swal-
n one of the
fact that Bob
nan, had both
of these two
to him in his
well,
each there in

trming him of

e major, tear-

oung cashier.

st misfortune,

was speedily

211

recognized by two men who had ministered to his hunger
while he lay upon the wheelbarrow tattered and bruised.

"Poor Bob and Jake have given their last whistle and rung
their last bell," said one of the men, brushing his eyes with the
sleeve of his blue check shirt.

"Yes, I know it; and I have conio to attend their funeral,"
Don replied. "I have got Bob's hat yet." he added, recogniz-
ing one of the men as the one who had jestingly ridiculed him
for saying that he would keep the hat as a memento of the
engineer.

Both men had believed in Don's respectability even when
he looked so battered and forlorn, and they were not partic-
ularly surprised at his reappearing at the roundhouse in the
garb of a young gentleman. But when they learned that he
had come all the way from Boston to honor the memory of the
dead men, and that he really kept Bob's hat as a precious
souvenir of the engineer, Sam Langley, the elder of the two,
came up to him and, putting a hand on each shoulder, and
looking him in the face, said: "Young fellow, you make me
believe in human nature. And that is -saying a great deal for
one who has knocked about the world for more than fifty years.
Let's have another shake, for the'-e is no telling how soon I
shall have to follow Bob and Jake." And he shook Don's
hand with a heartiness that made it ache.

"You ought to be stuck up in a pulpit for a headlight or a
steamboiler — I scarcely know which," exclaimed Lem Dudley,
the younger of the two men, who was also a freight engineer,
stroking Don's right shoulder caressingly with a hand that
looked as if it could knock down an ox.

"Did Bob and Jake leave families?" Don asked, in pur-
suance of one object he had in view in returning to Albany.

"Why, of course," replied Langley; "did you ever know

,,i^^.'

»« t I I 1>i^

:v.,:/>;^L:jj :--!38a

1 1

if'

212

AIR CA8TLB DON

a railroad man that was wortli his salt that didn't have a
family? Bob leaves a wife and four little tots; and Jake had a
wife and five children, one of whom is as blind as a bat. And
the worst of it is, neither of them were very forelianded. The
men along the road arc making up a subscription to be divided
between the two families; and when it conies to that sort of
business they don't do things by halves, I t ,n assure you."

"No, I suppose not," said Don, warmly. "Will you let
mc put my name on the list?"

"Certainly, if you have got anything to spare " Langley
responded gladly, pulling out a subscription list which was
already quite numerously signed.

Don took the i)apcr and after affixing his name hesitated
some moments before he filled in the amount, for it was neces-
sary that reflection should go before decision. He had pre-
viously resolved that the money which had come to him from
his unknown correspondents should be used for the benefit of
others, and his chief object in visiting Albany was to determine
whether or no some of it might not be advantageously applied
to the families of the dead engineer and his fireman. The
details of the accident by which they lost their lives showed
that they had sacrificed themselves for the safety of a passenger
train.

Observing his hesitation, Langley said: "You needn't
make it very hard on yourself, you know; every little helps."

"I was trying In decide how much, and not how little I
could give," Don replied. I think I have decided upon the
right thing, and will put down one hundred and twenty-five
dollars for Bob's family, and the same amount for Jake's."
And he filled in these figures, adding: "Although I put this
on the paper, I shall carry the money to the families myself

^ |:

In't have a
Jake had a

bat. And
liulcd. The

bo divided
tliat sort of
re you."
Vill you let

Langley
t which was

me hesitated
it was neccs-
He had pre-

to him from
the benefit of
I to determine
jously applied
ireman. The

lives showed
of a passenger

"You needn't
y little helps."
)t how little I
ided upon the
tid twenty-five
It for Jake's."
ugh I put this
lamilies myself

AIR 0A8TLB DON

before the funeral takes place, for it may comfort them to
know that Providence has not forsaken them."

And before the men could recover from tlieir astonishment
lie told them his story as briefly as he could, and explained the
motive of his action. "And now, if you will tell me how to find
the families I will get this thing off my mind as soon as
possible."

"If we don't go with you as guides they will be apt to think
that you need a guardian," said Langley, who was more than
half inclined to think that the whole transaction would turn out
a> an illusion.

"If you can spare the time, so much the better; you will
save me the trouble of making too many explanations."

They went with him, and the details of what followed may
be safely left with the reader's imagination. After seeing and
ministering to the families, Don felt as if life had a new mean-
ing and magnitude. Responsibility and duty became new
words to him, and he became convinced that even a boy might
be of some use to the world.

Before he left Greenbush he erected a small drinking foun-
tain in the roundhouse for the benefit of the railway men. It
bore the inscription: "Sacred to the Memory of Robert
Flanger and Jacob Cullum. Erected by a Boy Who Knew
Them as Roundhouse Saints and Railway Heroes."

The Reverend John Paul Lovejoy, D. D., still blessed
Albany with his stately presence and brilliant light. He was
an 'up to date* preacher with a strong partiality for newspaper
illustrations. Certain old-fashioned people intimated that he
knew far more about the newspapers than he did about the
Bible, and that his preaching was inspired more by the spirit
of the age than it was by the Spirit of The Almighty. They

/.f^iAlft-kjJtii.'S.iitA-^Vt^i^^^j^,.^^-

yUaUnuMuiiCifai

y j »W » fc -r-y.-.

'3SS

■f^;

■ u;,;i!.ai.i.;^..

■ . rfiVjinHfUi TT^iHiMjim'iw tattJitpuBy

iitiiiiilfiniiili'irriri-i

214

AIR CASTLE DON

said that his morning paper always took precedence of his
morning prayers.

All acknowiedged, however, that he had a great aptitude
for 'telling illustrations.' To do him justice, he seldom read a
paper wit!iout discovering fresh material for pulpit ammuni-
tion. Opening his journalistic purveyor one morning he was
immediately attracted to a column or more of matter which
was big-headed with the words, "Pathetic Precocity of a
Juvenile Philanthropist."

The Roundhouse Fountain had been discovered by the
press. By interviewing the roundhouse men and other people
to whom the roundhouse men referred them, the reporters
acquired a clear outline of Don's doings and experiences from
the time of his first appearance in Albany up to his second,
and his benefactions to the relicts of the late Robert Flanger
and Jacob Cullum. Some things, however, escaped their pur-
suit, and among them was Don's visit to the popular Doctor
of Divinity.

Doctor Lovejoy became so engrossed in the reporters' dis-
coveries that tears clouded his expressive grey eyes aiid ran
down to the point of his more expressive Roman nose. "What
a Telling Illustration that will make!" he exclaimed with the
keen discernment of a professional sermon-architect. He cut
it out with his polished clippers and triumphantly consigned it
to a mahogany boxlet marked, "Telling Illustrations." Here
was an auspicious inspiration for his next Sunday morning
sermon. A suitable text was not far to find. To the 'illustra-
tion' he pinned the words: "Cast thy bread upon the waters,
for thou shalt find it after many days." With such a luminous
text pinned to such a voluminous illustration he was in a fair
way of adding to the fame of his illustrious name.

Not content with this beginning, he crossed the river to

Bin

■ ■, » » .i ii . »lyi!l iiwi^jiyr^lPiilpyyMlyt

9Pf

i l i i i i UlHH iiii pHHj ii in II I

mrtmimfm

mSSi'

AIR CASTLE DON

215

Greenbush, interviewed the roundhouse men, as he contem-
plated the memorial fountain, and from them went to Mrs.
Flanger and Mrs. Culluni for further verification of the news-
paper account. The more he investigated, the faster his ser-
mon grew. It sprang up like the magic tree of the Hindoo
magician.

When he preached that sermon, his fashionable congrega-
tion became a fountain of tears; although, truth to tell, they
were moved, not so much by the inspirations of the text, as
by the 'telling illustration', of which the text was but a prelude
or a jug-handle. It was the almost unanimous conviction of
the audience that for eloquence and pathos the sermon eclipsed
all previous efforts of the renowned pastor. -

The Monday morning press contained a verbatim report of
the doctor's masterpiece. Although severely fatigued by the
strain of the preceding day, the doctor sat down in his luxur-
ious study and read his own sermon from beginning to end.
He cut it out and pasted it in a vellum scrapbook already
plethorically full of other sermons preserved in a similar
manner.

Having done this with a glow of satisfaction, he turned to
open his morning mail. The first letter he took up bore the
Boston office mark. There had been intimation of his being
called to fill the pulpit of one of the largest churches in The
Athens of America. This was a thick letter. What if it should
contain the coveted call!

Daintily clipping one end of the envelope he reversed it and
shook the contents upon the elegant study table. The first
arrival from the interior was a silver ten-cent piece; the next,
several newspaper clippings; and last, came the letter.
Puzzling as was the silver, he put it in his vest-pocket; and
eager as was his curiosity concerning the sender of the missive,

.^<

-'- 'ii

-2
I

Tafflf7TTTanTi><'''i''w,ittij''i^>'ij>ji ";if ' iMpT »^»wagiiijlf ;wi^ ^

j^^J^ar^mtufi

Tmfm.

216

AIR GASTLB DON

his attention was riveted by the appearance of the name, Don
Donalds, in the scrap that lay face toivard hUv.. He thereupon
read the scraps first, and was delighted to find abundant con-
firmation of the sketch he had given of the character of The
Juvenile Philanthropis*. the day before.

He next looked at the signature of the letter. Bertrand J.
Williams. He knew of no one by that name. He turned to
the contents of the letter for enlightenment, and — was
enlightened.

When, after his return from the sojourn in the wilderness,
Don related to Bert his experience with the Reverend John
Paul Lovejoy, D, D., there was a violent storm of juvenile
indignation which was slow to abate. And when Don left
Boston to make his second visit to Albany, Bert bethought
himself of writing a letter to the Albany clergyman. This
letter was so ingeniously put together that the writer must
have perspired over it as if he were sitting on a steam boiler.
He enclosed the scraps as evidence of Don's standing in
Boston. He informed the doctor of Don's object in visiting
Albany, and described his previous visit, and scathed the rever^
end gentleman for slamming his door in the face of an unfor-
tunate who was far better as a boy than the preacher was as a
man. As a measure of his manhood and a reminder of the ten
cents so insultingly oiTered to Don, and as a compensation for
the energy he had expended in slamming the door he enclosed
the ten cents, with the request that he should bore a hole in it
and wear it around his neck as a commemorative medal.

Surprised as the doctor was to discover that the boy he had
treated with such scant courtesy and grace had turned out to
be the Juvepile Philanthropist upon whom he had expended
his tropical eloquence, he was indignant beyond endurance.
Indignant to think that anyone, even in classic Boston, should

m utMA.w -111 ■i.ii'*<fv*^)artOTM«

g ^ w i '' ^.w!»yi» ; ,-wj^-! ! f- ' ■

e name, Don
le thereupon
bundant con-
racter of The

Bertrand J.
He turned to
:, and — was

le wilderness,
everend John
m of juvenile
hen Don left
ert bethought
gyman. This
e writer must
steam boiler.
3 standing in
ect in visiting
hed the rever^
e of an unfor-
icher was as a
ider of the ten
iipensation for
3r he enclosed
re a hole in it
'. medal,
he boy he had
turned out to
had expended
id endurance,
loston, should

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Am GA8TLB DON

217

write to him. The Reverend John Paul Lovejoy, D. D., in such
pointedly incriminating and contemptuous terms. And the
Ten Cents! Was ever such an insult offered to a Doctor of
Divinity before!

Who was this presumptuous Bertrand J. Williams? He
studied the letter. The chirography and construction were
unimpeachable. There was no trace of juvenility in it,
although the impertinence of it indicated someone who was
the very impersonation of "sassiness."

There was one comfort; the revelations of the letter could
be kept from the Albany public. The radiance of his telling
sermon and its "Telling Illustration" should not be dimmed by
the discovery of his shabby treatment of the boy whom he had
lauded to the skies with such pathetic and effective fervor.

Alas! for all human calculations and security. Fame has
its penalties and dangers. The great sermon was reprinted in
the Boston papers. And Bert wrote a note to the press expos-
ing the difference between the eloquent doctor's preaching and
practice. The shuttle wove its thread between Boston and
Albany. The note was reproduced in the Albany press, and
finally it was announced that the doctor, having a chronic sore
throat, would be obliged to seek another climate.

The reporter of the Transcript, who was the first to give
sympathetic publicity io Don's adventures, and who continued
to be his firm friend, caustically wrote, in somewhat labored
classic terms: "The doctor leaves Albany with the hot shirt
of Nessus on his back and the avenging feet of Nemesis at his
heels." .

Don knew nothing of what Bert was doing until it was too
late to remonstrate. All he could say then was: "You are an
awful boy, Bert, but I did not think that you could be so
wicked."

li M l f

It should be said before closing this chapter that the doctor
purchased a cigar with Bert's ten cents and meditated upon the
mutability of human events while blowing the smoke from his
eloquent lips.

i ppfJlffH i j i .M. i ,J

^^^'t^^J^^^p^^^

AIR CASTLE DON

"^-'iC ^-K ■""*-

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mi»H "wii r>"v wnff W i

t the doctor
ed upon the
ke from his

^ •0 . 'r. f ^u nf yw. m .m ^ l M i HM« % %l \ i

CHAPTER XXII.

.?•?/•■■

PICKING UP A PROTBOB.

Nora was an interrogation point. When she could not
answer herself, she carried her questions to the attic for solu-
tion. "Who are The Boston Originals?" she asked one even-
ing with wrinkled brow.

"You must be one of them, for that is certainly an original
inquiry," said Don. "Tell us what you mean."

"I was going down Hanover street this afternoon, and at
114 I saw printed in big letters at the entrance of the narrow
stairway, 'The Boston Originals. Meeting Held Every Sun-
day Evening on The Top Floor.' I have heard of a good
many denominations, but I never heard of that one before."

"You know as much about them as I do," said Bert, "and I
supposed that I was as well acquainted with the oddities of
Boston as any one could be, seeing that I am to the manor
bom."

"That is such an odd title, we shall have to go there next
Sunday night and find out what it means," remarked Don,
musingly.

"Oh, for mercy's sake, don't go! It might be worse than
going to hear Theodore Parker," exclaimed Nora, taking
alarm.

"If the Originals should prove to be as good as he, it would
certainly pay us to go," Bert retorted, sturdily. "What do you
say, Don?"

(219)

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■P*!l"*'^*i^i^#if!ii'^^

H*I^!!W1"

!9W^

Si.

220

AIR CASTLE DON

"Originality is a scarce article; it is something we should
search for. Besides, Nora's curiosity is certainly justifiable,
and we will go there in the spirit of investigation so that we
may be able to gratify her with some degree of intelligence."

"If you do go, it shall not be on my account," said Nora,
firmly. "You shall not pack the blame of that meeting on my
shoulders as you did in the case of the Faneuil Hall meeting, to .
which I sent you. I am not playing Mother Eve this time. If
you find any forbidden fruit there, you will have to blame you^
selves for it."

"We will assume all the re-spon-si-bil-i-ty ourselves," Bert
said with grave pomposity.

On going to the hall the boys discovered that they were in
Adullam's Cave — ^an assembly of social, political and religious
malcontents of both sexes, who were set against everything
from the rising to the setting of the sun. The men wore locks
that hung down to their shoulders, and the women, hair that
was cropped close to their skulls. The men looked as lean
and hungry as Cassius, and the women as leathery and big-
boned as furies. The atmosphere was pervaded with the odors
of unwashed bodies, old clothes, beer, bologna and tobacco.
Each one looked at his fellow as if questioning his right to
existence.

They were presided over by the notorious Leroy Sunder-
land, an apostate preacher and celebrated mesmerist, whose
life, it was alleged, was a flat contradiction of the Ten Com-
mandments. After leading in singing, which sounded like the
wailings of lost spirits, and in a prayer that addressed nobody
and asked for everything that would tend to turn society topsy-
turvy, he made a short address which clearly showed that he
was a professional Ishmaelite, whose hand was against every-

i**»s;*»fe'a*'i

ling we should
inly justifiable,
ion so that we
intelligence."
nt," said Nora,
meeting on my
lall meeting, to
re this time. If
to blame you^

wrselves," Bert

lat they were in
al and religious
linst everything
men wore locks
omen, hair that
looked as lean
athery and big-
d with the odors
ia and tobacco,
ing his right to

Leroy Sunder-
esmerist, whose
■ the Ten Com-
ounded like the
dressed nobody
n society topsy-
showed that he
s against every-

■ i. V!r*K'Va»',Si)f*

body and who rejoiced in having everybody's hand turned
against him.

"Well," whispered Don to Bert, "I guess we have put our
foot into it deep this time."

"Yes," responded Bert with a grimace, "and it will be
deeper still when we make oui report to thav Nora of ours."

After Sunderland's speech the meeting was "thrown open"
to anyone who wished to speak. This was the signal for a
fusillade of sharpshooting against everything in sight and out
of sight.

"Has anything hit you yet?" asked Don of Bert, after list-
ening in a dazed way to the tirades of the speakers.

"Lots!" said Bert sententiously.

Presently a man, who was evidently a foreigner, began to
anathematize the United States and everything connected with
it. Others followed in the same vein.

This is getting altogether too hot for me," whispered Don,
indignantly. "If they keep this up you will have to hold me
down."

"Blaze away!" exclaimed Bert excitedly. "It seems to be
a free-for-all fight. I'll help push you up if you'll only pitch in.
Men who talk that way about this country ought to be flung
out of it."

There was a lull. Don drew his feet under him and started
to rise, but another was before him.

The new speaker was a man of foreign accent with a schol-
arly command of the English language. His dark, curly hair
was slightly streaked with gray, but his heavy moustache and
side whiskers were as black as jet. He was seedily dressed,
yet there was that in his student-like face and refined bearing
that inspired respect. His dark eyes were large and beautiful,
His tones were clear and cultivated.

■n

222

•-•|lTWTIW | |l l | i p|||,t|,|^

AIR OASTLB DON

He began by saying that he was an exile from Hungary,
where he had once possessed both wealth and influence,
though now he was without a roof to his head or the means of
purchasing the common necessities of life. In his wanderings
on the street he had seen the sign at the foot of the stairs and
had entered the meeting as a means of resting his weary feet.
Yet, unfortunate as he was, he rejoiced in being in the United
States, the ideal of his dreams and the queen of the nations of
the earth. He pictured the woeful condition of Hungary and
Poland under the feet of the oppressors and contrasted it with
the happy state of things in this country.

Waxing warm and growing eloquent as he proceeded, he
began a series of polished, yet startling invectives and denun-
ciations against the speakers who had spoken ill of their coun-
try, and closed by declaring that they were so unworthy of it
they ought to be driven from it.

Don and Bert were so excited that they clapped their hands
and pounded the floor with their feet until they were exhausted.
Their example proved contagious to others who were in the
hall, and the confusion was so great that Sunderland closed the
meeting.

Don and Bert held a hurried and earnest consultation, and
with results that followed immediately. They intercepted the
stranger as he was aboin to leave the hall, and taking him aside,
invited him to go home with them.

Looking keenly into the two frank faces awaiting his
answer, he said in subdued, almost quivering tones: "I am a
stranger to you, and you are too young to invite me to your
home without first taking counsel of those who usually deter-
mine matters of this kind. Nevertheless, I thank you with all
my heart."

"You are in hard luck, and I know what that is by experi-

*fj"t ' .' < pi ! l » y f nn. i »*.

i,Wl. iP » i Ll t ."' i i»" ' «B ' ' r." ! ''H''"" ' * '' i""' ' " '' "^'^ if m 'i tiimffi M ,i .. '4" ' *V ' i| !'< yj ' yV ' l""li-|l i t J iwip.

Hungary,
influence,
,e means of
ivanderin9;s
: stairs and
weary feet,
the United
; nations of
mgary and
sted it with

jceeded, he
and denun-
their coun-
vorthy of it

their hands
: exhausted,
were in the
i closed the

Itation, and
ircepted the
1^ him aside,

waiting his
s: "I am a
me to your
iually deter-
you with all

s by experi-

AIB 0A8TLB DOI?

ence. We believe that you are a gentleman notwithstanding
the unfortunate situation you hinted at in your very eloquent
address, and it will be to your advantage to go with us," And
Don spoke so sympathizingly that his words went straight to
the heart of his listener.

"Better accept," said Bert bluntly, "for we are in earnest.
In one sense, I am the master of the house to which you are
invited, and my mother and sister, who are the only ones to
consult, if such a thing needed to be done, will heartily approve
of any invitation I see fit to extend to anyone. We are plain
common people, who use words to express what we mean."

"I will go with you; and more gladly and thankfully than I
can tell," said the stranger, and with so much relief depicted in
his face, that both boys were more than ever convinced that
they had run no risks in giving such an impromptu invitation
to one they had never seen before.

"My name is Conrad Krasinski," he continued as soon as
they had reached the street, "and I will tell you more about
myself when I am better able to confirm my representations."

The boys gave their own names and impulsively assured
him that they were not looking for vouchers of his respecta-
bility, for that was sufficiently evidenced by the speech he had
made in the hall, and by his looks and manners.

Two of the boarders had gone away Saturday night, leav-
ing a comfortable room vacant, and in the hasty consultation
held with Bert, Don had said: "You have a vacant room, and
I have over half of that anonymous fund still in the bank. Put
him in there and I will pay his board out of that fund till some-
thing turns up for him. Or better still, I will pretend to loan
him seventy-five dollars, so that he can pay his board himself
and leave your mother and Nora in ignorance of his destitu-
tion. That will put him on a better footing in his own estima-

■:^i

■I

I y,

-■p';i.'.s*;:&'Aaaack^.-

mWiitt-iiHwrtftniiiwaJ

tiuummmimmiiimiaiti^laa

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^m^ssmisBt(fi

I' *"i»"F''^

224

Ain OAETLB DON

tion, and will encourage him to do the best he can for himself.
I will tell him of the arrangement for secrecy so far as we are
concerned, and charge him not to give us away."

And in accordance with this plan Krasinski was intro-
duced to the household as a new boarder, and conducted to his
room by the boys, where they left him with best wishes for a
good night's rest and more cheerful outlooks for his future
prospects.

"Where did you pick up that distinguished foreign-looking
gentleman?" asked Nora, when they returned to the sitting
room to report to their little censor and mentor.

"At The Boston Originals," said Bert, promptly. "He was
the chief speaker; and a glorious speech it was, too, in favor of
our country. We got acquainted with him, and finding that
he was seeking for a boarding place, we brought him home
with us, leaving him to send for his baggage when it would be
more convenient for him. We will report further some other
time." And taking Don by the arm, he led him off to the attic.

"You are an awful boy," said Don laughing, to think how
expertly Bert had extricated them from an embarrassing
position.

In the morning they arose early, and hearing Kralsinski
stirring in his room, they sought entrance to explain their
plans, and to settle his footing in the house.

Overwhelmed by their kindness he broke his reserve, say-
ing: "I was professor of languages in The Budapest Univer-
sity, and a member of the Hungarian House of Deputies. But
having been an active co-worker with Louis Kossuth in the
attempt to free the Hungarian people, I was obliged to flee
from the country. I have been here but a short time. Being
disappointed in my remittances, I was turned out of my board-
ing house, and my baggage was retained for my indebtedness.

'■'^-

wnr

T?f^«wv>r

t for himseU.
:ar as we are

ki was intro-

ducted to his

wishes for a

or his future

reign-looking
to the sitting

;ly. "He was
x>, in favor of
i finding that
[ht him home
En it would be
er some other
)f! to the attic.
, to think how
embarrassing

ing Krasinski

explain their

is reserve, say-
dapest Univer-
Deputies. But
Cossuth in the
obliged to flee
t time. Being
It of my board-
y indebtedness*

■ ^-^ 'aft?;rJSft*jrfa)a«'wqM«*Bs*ari&»£B*«**^

ji.T^iejWi*?*"*''

^,Si^.^-,««KWS«fi«Si»'^*-SWSM«^^

AIR OASTLB DON

With the money you offer to advance I can pay the small
amount due and reclaim my baggage and papers. In time I
hope to obtain a private class in the languages and make my
own way again. Your kindness has saved me from the horror
of walking the streets at night, and made it possible for me to
begin anew. I can assure you that you will lose nothing by
your generosity to me."

This revelation stunned the boys. Bui regaining theirself-
possesFion, they soon discovered that they experienced no dif-
ficulty in maintaining easy terms with the professor. Don said
he would redeem the baggage at noon and furnish him with
seventy-five dollars at the same time. And he would also
claim the honor of being his first private pupil in Latin and
Greek. Bert said he would be the second ; and if the professor
could teach French, his sister Nora should be the third pupil.

The professor said he could teach both Fre h and German
in addition to the classical languages, and he was so relieved by
the sudden change from killing care to comparative comfort
that his face was literally transfigured. And when he accom-
panied the boys to breakfast Nora thought he was the most
fascinating and entertaining gentleman she had ever seen.
Nor was her pleasure diminished when Bert informed her that
she was to take French lessons of him. The little mother her-
self was captivated by his grace and breeding, and congratu-
lated herself on having the good fortune to secure such a
boarder.

When the boys left the house for their daily duties, Nora
kissed Bert, and said: "If Professor Krasinski is the kind of
company they keep at The Boston Originals, you may go'there
again." She noticed that her brother shrugged his shoulders
briskly, and thinking that her kiss was not welcome, she ran
into the house in a pout, forgetting even to say her usual morn-

■'I

8B»SSI??Ss

■ ..■,:t\..L,. „ -■■■li: .y.:,/tif.^L'- ■,< r^-^::, ..:.> ^zj:^ir«!-.i.,A^

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fi?^-:

ifMppp

ill

r fj

i )|

AIR CASTLE DON

inj^ g-ood bye to Don, an omission which clouded her whole
forenoon.

"Now, Bert," said Don, when they were clear of the house,
"this affair must be kept out of the papers, for the professor
would not like to appear as the protege of such a pair of juven-
ile imps as we are."

"If the public knew that you had taken him under your
wings, and that you were spending that trust money, as you
call it, for hie benefit, it would be the making of him," was the
quick and earnest reply.

"Solemnly promise me that you will do all you can to keep
this cat in the bag, or I'll cut your acquaintance."

"I solemnly promise, so help me. But what's the use?
We may tie our end of the bag as tightly as we please — that
won't p revent the cat from bursting out at the other end. The
reporters are lorgnetting you as closely as that Arabella
Powderface is lorgnetting our house, and so long as the game
is in sight, they are not going to give up the chase for news."

"Well, if V e two keep our mouths sealed, they'll be bafHed."

"What if the professor should open his?"

"He is a gentleman, and gentlemen do not pin their private
affairs to their sleeves."

The professor was a gentleman! He showed it in every-
thing he did or said, notwithstanding he was a bachelor. He
was a rare teacher, and his three pupils became so enthusiastic
under his instructions that others were soon added to their
number.

Not long after the discovery of the professor by the two
boy«, Louis Kossuth, the Hungarian patriot, for whose blood
the Austnans were thirsting, arr:%red in this country. As his
deliverance from his eneniies was effected through the inter-
vention of the United States, he was greeted by great throngs

' m % i i wu - y iWii l t P ii '■ j ; i. ^ ww.

w r aj i M ii J w>"i t'";y ' . ' « " > ' J.iw ' ^ y'

''rm

AIR CA8TLK DON

227

d her whole

of the house,
the professor
lair of juven-

i under your
loney, as you
lim," was the

u can to keep

lat's the use?
e please — that
lier end. The
that Arabella
g as the game
ase for news."
yr'll be baffled."

in their private

ed it in every-
bachelor. He
so enthusiastic
added to their

sor by the two
Dr whose blood
)untry. As his
ough the inter-
y great throngs

wherever he went. On his approaching visit to Boston he was
tendered a review of the troops on the Common and the com-
pliment of a public meeting in Faneuil Hall. When he arrived
the professor was in a state of exalted excitement. The day
was set apart as a city holiday. Quite early in the morning he
appeared in the attic where he was in the habit of visiting as if
he were but a boy himself, and invited them to accompany him
to the Revere House, whither he was going to make a call
upon his old chief and friend, Louis Kossuth.

"I shall be most happy to introduce you to him, and as my
best friends, too," he said, with all the confidence of a man who
was sure of the ground he stood upon.

When they arrived at the hotel, hundreds were already
seeking access to the rooms of the great magyar. But the pro-
fessor's card secured access in precedence of all. The moment
he entered the room, Kossuth fell upon his neck, embraced him
and kissed him again and again. And both men were so over-
whelmed with emotion that it was sometime before they could
speak. The boys felt as if they were intruding,upon the holy
of holies of friendship.

The professor took them by the hand and said: "Louis I
must introduce to you these two boys; they saved me from
death by starvation, and have been the brightest joys I have
had since my arrival in this great country." And while Kos-
suth received them with effusive cordiality, the professor
briefly explained what they had done for him. Kossuth pat-
ted them on the shoulder, and to their overwhelming embar-
rassment informed them that they had been kind to one of
Hungary's greatest and purest men, and to one of Europe's
greatest linguists and scholars. He invited them to his Fan-
ucil Hall meeting and gave them tickets — which were selling
high — to secure their entrance.

£*-^:s-.v«Ba«-:-':* 1

Tjii'^imy* liWiiiiwtfcWiii

,ila»

ipPpHPipp

?>:'*

Air 0A8TLB DON

Feeling that these bosom friends would have much to say
to each other and in their own language, the boys excused
themselves and departed in a state of mind bordering on
estasy. On their return home they almost frightened Nora
and her mother with their revelations and excitement.

The ovation given to Kossuth was one of the greatest ever
given to any man in the United Stales. People crowded after
him in the streets; the review was attended by countless multi-
tudes, and Faneuil Hall was densly filled with people, who
came to hear him rehearse the story of the rise and fall of the
Hungarian Republic.

The address was all the more stirring because of the
conspicuous part the speaker had taken in trying to prevent
the consummation of the greatest crime of the modem era.
It was all the more striking for being delivered in the purest
English which, as was well known, Kossuth learned in captiv-
ity from an English dictionary, and copies of Shakespeare and
of the Bible.

Both Don and Bert were present, but their attention was in
a measure diverted from the larger interests of the occasion by
things that became singularly personal to them. Their
beloved instructor, by the insistance of Kossuth, sat on the
platform among the most distinguished men of the city and
state. In his opening remarks, Kossuth referred to him as
being present, and said that he had been one of his most able
and trusted compatriots, and one who, rather than recede from
the struggle for independence, had suffered both confiscation
and exile. He earnestly commended the professor to the con-
fidence and the sympathy of the American people. It
delighted Don and Bert to witness how instantly and generally
the great audience cheered for the professor. But the next
sentence overwhelmed them with confusion of mind.

e much to say

boys excused

bordering on

ightened Nora

jment.

le greatest ever
e crowded after
:ountless multi-
th people, who
; and fall of the

because of the
ying to prevent
;he modem era.
ed in the purest
jarned in captiv-
Shakespeare and

attention was in
f the occasion by
to them. Their
ssuth, sat on the
1 of the city and
ferred to him as
; of his most able

than recede from
both confiscation
tfessor to the con-
rican people. It
ntly and generally
jr. But the next

of mind.

AIR CASTLE DON

(T,»r''»3?,y,«?>?'' ' '' •y'^ r ' K rm^}'

229

"Boston has the honor," Kossuth went on, "of having two
lads who were the first to discover the presence of the professor
in this city, the first to recognize his merits, and the first to
extend to him generous sympathy and material aid."

"Three cheers for the lads," shouted some one in the gal-
lery, and thereupon the cheers were given with a will, to the
great pleasure of Kossuth and the intense gratification of the
professor.

From that moment the professor's fortunes began to change
for the better, and not long afterward he became a tutor of
languages in Harvard and a welcome guest of the literary and
political circles of Boston. He remained loyal to his young
benefactors and continued to hear their recitations and to
direct their studies.

Immediately after the Faneuil Hall meeting, Krasinski was
interviewed by the reporters concerning the lads referred to
by Kossuth. He frankly gave their names, described the
occasion on which he first met them, and freely detailed the
particulars by which he had been placed under such great obli-
gations to them.

The boys' secrecy availed them nothing. "The Tombstone
Detective" was for the third time prominent in the local col-
umns of the dailies, but this time as Don Donalds plus
Bertrand Williams.

The Reverend John Paul Lovejoy, D. D., who had settled
at Worcester, trembled in his Oxford shoes when he read the
latest news of "The Boy Philanthropist," and he shivered all
the more when he learned that "Bertrand J. Williams," his
whilom "ten cent" correspondent, was Don's friend, and,
"double," as the reporters styled him. But having consigned
his great sermon with its "Telling Illustration" to the very
bottom of his barrel, his name escaped further association with

• 2

■1
■I

'-•0,

.i.

i^fe?. '#^ift^;::;;,tr ?f;&at^

230

AIR OASTLB DON

the names of the boys who had become such thorns in his flesh.
The amiable Arabella had turned up her naturally "tip-
tilted nose" still further when she heard that the widow had
descended to the harboring of a "Hun" for a boarder, but
when the reverberations from Faneuil Kail reached her she
was badly stunned. She had passed many an hour feasting on
The Mysteries of Paris, and of London and of New York; with
far less satisfaction she now sat in her chamber vainly endeav-
oring to dig^est what she piously called "The Mysteries of
Providence," so inscrutably deepened by the accumulating
clouds that persistently arose from the attic of the Williams
Boarding House. It greatly added to her melancholy, as well
as to the envy of the Coverts, to find that the widow's house
was becoming so celebrated that it was far more remunerative
to its mistress than it was when Don shouldered his trunk
across the Square and planted his green self so near the sky.

? ^^''''^jf^^'^!gj^.ti!

, .r^,. * f^,f,^^ ^ f ^u ^, ^> t fg f , : ^ ^^ f fm f i, j^ '^m »t m W '¥'' » ''' V\ m^ I I . ||i I ^JW 't' 11 |ll^f^fWpir"7l^yfPBi^BWj

ts in his flesh,
aturally "tip-
le widow had
boarder, but
iched her she
ur feasting on
;w York; with
irainly endeav-
Mysteries of
accumulating
: the Williams
ncholy, as well
widow^s house
e remunerative
ered his trunk
near the sky.

CHAPTER XXIII.

TALKING THROUGH HIS HAT.

Although efforts had been made to induce Don to descend
a story or two, he still retained his attic quarters. The seclu-
sion no less than the elevation pleased his fancy. Besides,
both he and Bert declared that the air at that height either
came in fresh from the country or from the sea. Aud the
pattering of the rain on the roof or the whistling of the wind
around the chimneys over their heads was far more suggestive
and poetical than the sound of footsteps and muffled voices.
Having the whole upper floor to themselves, with all its nooks
and crannies they were as independent as eagles in their eyry.

Bob Flanger's hat had the place of honor over Don's
mirror, where he could see it every time he saw himself, and
be reminded of the heroic head that once throbbed beneath it
while the engine thundered on the rail. More great thoughts
came from beneath the battered felt than were ever dreamed
of by the perfumed exquisite who, although he may believe
that in the beginning God created man, thinks that man was
not finished till civilization crowned him with the glory of a
"silk plug."

Nora dusted the hat every day, and, not infrequently, when
Don returned at night, he found it decorated with a sprig of
green or a spray of bloom which she had purchased with a
portion of her limited pin-money. But her display of senti-

(230

»?

.J.

:'M

TW-

232

AIR CASTLE DON

ment was prompted less by the pleasure it afforded Don than it
was by the memory of the man whom he had cannonized as a
roundhouse saint.

She had read of the healing virtues of Saint Peter's hand-
kerchief, and she believed that there was virtue in Saint
Robert's hat. "I should like to fasten it onto Miss Agin-
court's head for a whole week," she said. "It might be the '
means of her conversion from some of her ugly ways."

Bert laughed immoderately at the quaint conceit, saying:
"She would cut a queer figure with that hat on."

"It would not be half so queer a figure as she now cuts in
the eyes of the angels with even her best Sunday hat," Nora
retorted with spirit, and truth withal. "I would rather be in
fashion with God than to be in fashion with all the world
beside."

"Well, I am glad I saved that hat," said Don sympathizing
with Nora's seriousness. "The Bible says of Abel's faith:
"By it he, being dead, yet speaketh", and I am sure that poor
Bob speaks through his hat to me every time I look upon it,
and every time I think of it. All the while I was listening to
Professor Krasinski that night at The Boston Originals, Bob
was speaking to me through his hat and saying, 'There's your
chance to use some of that trust money you have on hand to
good advantage.' And he spoke truly. He'll tell me what
to do with the rest of it."

The jovial major, remembering how carefully Don had
saved the hat, often jested with him about it, but was just as
often met with the rejoinder that Bob was speaking through it
as eloquently as ever. This seriousness, coupled together with
the singularity of the expression, led the major to tell Dorothy
and the colonel what Don was in the habit of saying about
Bob and his hat. The colonel reiterated it to Ticknor and

'•::^m

i: PJ.V. ' ,4JJt?;|yfNL^pppf^ gj ^

1 Don than it
inonized as a

Peter's hand-
lue in Saint
Miss Agin-
might be the '
ways."
mceit, saying:

le now cuts in

lay hat," Nora

Id rather be in

all the world

n sympathizing
)f Abel's faith:
I sure that poor

I look upon it,
was listening to

Originals, Bob
g, 'There's your
lave on hand to
'11 tell me what

•efuUy Don had

but was just as

aking through it

led together with

r to tell Dorothy

of saying about

to Ticknor and

AIU GA8TLB DON

288

Fields, and through them it got to the ears of the literary cele-
brities who congregated there, and finally to the pencils of the
alert reporters, who began to use it as a stock phrase. As
Boston is supposed to set the fashion for literary phraseology,
there is reason for believing that this is the origin of the
expression, "Talking through his hat." To be sure, we would
not lay this down as literary law and gospel. But as we must
account for everything in one way or another, this is a good
way- to account for the origin of the phrase. It might be
objected that the expression as used at present does not bear
out the former meaning. Yet to this it may be replied that
many words that were of respectable parentage have sadly
degenerated from their primary significance. When Don first
used the phra.-e, Henry Ward Beecher, who was then rising
to be the first preacher of the modem pulpit, might have bor-
rowed it without the slightest danger of being impeached for
using slang.

One morning when Don reached the store, the major
handed him fifty dollars, saying with the air of a man who was
making a good beginning for a new day : "A laty vas at mein
house last night, und from Dorothy she vas vind out all about
dot hat und how Bob vas talk through it, und tells you vat
you must do mit dot monish you receifed from dose beoples
vat don't hafe any names. Und she was gif me vifty tollars
und say she don't hafe no name to go mit it. Und you vas
hafe to ask dot hat vat you shall do mit it. Und if you vas
vind annuder Brovessor Krasinski, or some udder poor veller
who vas need it just like him, it vas as goot as she vas vant it."

"That will, make one hundred and ninety dollars I have
received since that Krasinski affair came out in the papers,"
said Don, anxiously, as he took the money ; "all of it is to be
used at my discretion for the benefit of unfortunate people ; or,

;«

^1
•1

,.J,

X£ :i3S***J--«' ''Q««*«!Hjg>Sw-

■ '1^^^!fP^Bj^f?!» ■

884

AIR CASTLE DON

rather, at the discretion of Bob Flanger's hat. They ali speak
of that, and seem to have more confidence in it than they do in
some of the charitable societies. They say the winter is
approaching and times are so hard that many will suffer if they
are not helped. But they should distribute their own charity,
and not place so much responsibility upon a mere boy."

The major made light of Don's embarrassment, and
chuckled aloud as he replied : "You vas a zoziety all py your-
selves, mit Bob for bresident, you for treasurer, und dot Bert
for segretary ; und you vas make your reborts to Nora und dot
little mudder some more ven you vas veels like it. Dot's all
fery goot, you see. Dot laty vat sends vifty tollars ish rich,
und she say if you vas want some more she vill gif it just as
you say."

"She must be a noble woman," said Don, with feeling.
"Please thank her in my name, and assure her that I shall
make a good use of what she has sent, and account for every
dollar."

That evening Don and Bert and ^ora had just settled
themselves to their language lessons when they heard a cane
thumping up the attic stairs with an emphasis that left no doubt
in their minds as to the identity of the approaching visitor.
Father Taylor, who lived near, was in the habit of visiting them
frequently, and considered himself privileged to start for the
attic the moment he had passed the compliments of the even-
ing with the widow in the hall below. He always carried a
heavy hickory cane which had a crook that was as big as "the
crook in the lot" that the Bible tells of so mysteriously.
Whenever there was anything particular upon his mind, that
cane thumped like an old-fashioned door-knocker, to the great
disturbance of nervous and timid people who were not accus-
tomed to his way.

^WTf

■f > ¥* • "m i t!^.

"I.U" f

AIR 0A8TLB DON

286

;y all speak
they do in
winter is
uffer if they
,wn charity,
)oy."

sment, and
all py your-
nd dot fiert
fora und dot
t. Dot's all
ars ish rich,
gif it just as

vith feeling.

that I shall

unt for every

i just settled
heard a cane
: left no doubt
ching visitor.
'. visiting them
, start for the
s of the even-
/ays carried a
as big as "the
mysteriously,
his mind, that
:r, to the great
rere not accus-

"There comes Father Taylor!" exclaimed Nora, who always
delighted in a call from the mariner preacher. "By the way,
he is thumping he must have something tremendous upon his
mind." The words were scarcely spoken when there came a
knock upon the door that would have split the panel if it had
not been proof against such violence.

"Come in, and welcome," said Bert, as he hastened to open
the door, and greeted the visitor with the cordiality that was
bom of both confidence and affection.

"I see you are all sailing for the port of knowledge," said
Father Taylor, who rarely spoke without using nautical terms.
"That's a good port to steer for, and you can't do better than
to press on all the canvas you can carry while going in that
direction, especially while you are young and taut in your rig-
ging and stiff and strong in your timbers. But I must run up
under your quarter for a minute or so, for the king's business
requires haste."

"Your cane said business every step you took up the stairs,
and we have prepared ourselves accordingly," said Don, lean-
ing back in a listening attitude.

"Spoken like the hearty that you are," Father Taylor
responded with evident satisfaction. "And now to throw the
lead at once; that stevedore we were talking about the other
day, came home this afternoon with another wife in tow; and
that, too, when his last one had been dead only seven weeks.
You know what a brute he is, and if my reckoning is correct,
his new wife is as much like him as one shark is like another.
That only son of his didn't run along side of her very heartily,
and by way of a wedding feast the father gave him a rope's-
ending that has welted him from head to feet. The boy ran to
my house for refuge, and I have taken him under my lee for
good. Got papers from the Humane Society for that purpose.

.-.„-_5«._

i iJWljIifl

WfWS^w^pipilS^

AIB 0A8TLB DON

Now, what shall I do with him? He is the brightest boy in his
school, and as trim as a clipper ship. Wc can't afford to have
him wrecked by a drunken father and a virago of a step-moth-
er." And Father Taylor thumped the floor so vigorously
while he was speaking that the boarders in the flat below sup-
posed that the boys were putting down a new carpet.

"There are fifty dollars for him," said Don, laying the crisp
bill in Father Taylor's hand. "A lady sent it to me this morn-
ing to use at my discretion ; and Bob's hat has been speaking
to me all day about it. I guess the Lord had Ladd Chapin in
mind when he turned that bill in Bob's direction. Ladd's
mother was a woman after the Lord's own heart, and I am sure
that He knows enough about His business to prevent the son
of such a mother from being driven to the dogs when he could
better be led to a decent life."

"There she blows!" exclaimed Father Taylor, driving his
knuckles into his eyes in lieu of a handkerchief to brush away
his tears of satisfaction, while his swarthy mobile face, so nobly
and so deeply seamed with lines of thought, switched about as
if angels of joy were pulling at the strings of expression. "I
have sighted a regular sperm whale this time, and no mistake,"
he continued, in Nantucket whaleman phraseology.

"If you will send Ladd to Exeter Academy in New Hamp-
shire," said Don, "where he will be beyond the reach of his
father, I am sure that the lady who sent that fifty dollars will
gladly become responsible for his education, seeing that he is
such a deserving boy. I do not know her personally — not
even her name, but Major Vonberg does, and he assures me
that she is as benevolent as she is rich. She sent word that she
would honor any demands I might make upon her. She has
great faith in what Bob says through his hat, and I am sure

H>l!#PWWi.l.¥J..v m

boy in his
rd to have
tep-moth-
rigorously
>elow sup-

l the crisp

this morn-

I speaking

Chapin in

. Ladd's

I am sure

:nt the son

n he could

driving his
>rush away
:e, so nobly
ed about as
ession. "I
mistake,"

few Hamp-
;ach of his
dollars will
', that he is
)nally — not
assures me
>rd that she
-. She has
I am sure

AIB GA8TLB DON

887

that he, with his hand upon the throttle of this business, would
let on his fullest head of steam."

"Of course— of course I What spirit engineer wouldn't l"
exclaimed Father Taylor, thumping his way up to the hat and
taking it down and trying its measure on his own capacious
head made extra formidable by its heavy shock of tumbled,
dark Abraham Lincoln-like hair. "Why his head was bigger
than mine," he continued, as the hat settled quite loosely to his
eyebrows. "The brain that carried that hat had room enough
in it for whales to swim in ; it was a sea, not a gudgeon pond.
Let us pray."

And with the hat still on his head, the absent-minded man
who was as g^nd as a cWtf and as sweet as a flower, knelt, and
without any polite prelimin.iries of supplication poured out a
prayer for Ladd Chapin that was so briefly to the point and so
fervently and pathetically pleading, that the three who knelt
with him, felt as if the fountains of the great deep were being
broken up.

"There," he said as he arose from his knees, "I know it's
all right for Ladd, so I'll square away, and give him the signal
of Land ho!" And he thumped his way to the door with Bob
Flanger's hat still hanging down over his eyebrows like a
shadowing helmet of streng^th from the invisible world.

"Excuse me. Father Taylor," said Don, "but you mustn't
take Bob away from us."

"Well, I declare!" he exclaimed, lifting the hat from his
head and looking at it with twinkling eyes. "I have been
caught praying with three pairs of spectacles on my forehead,
but you are the first to catch ine praying with a hat on. The
fact is, there is so much for mc to do in this world that I cannot
always stop to see whether my rigging is ship-shape or not.
If you had not spoken I should have gone straight home with

.Ml

"Tf»~ ■»«•■»■»».•»

mfd

888

AIR 0A8TLB DON

that hat on my head, and my wife and daughters would have
been thrown into spasms. They would have made more fuss
over it than tlic Lord (hd wliile 1 was praying. Tlic Lord
sectli not as man .seeth — nor as woman, cither." lie placed
the hat upon its peg and then went tliumping down tiie stairs
with so much cahn energy that the boarders peeped from their
rooms to sec what liad happened.

"He is a grand old fellow!" exclaimed Bert, with enthusi-
asm. "That Lovejoy's D. D. ought to be taken away from
him and given to Father Taylor."

Tshaw!" sniffed Don, contemptuously. "Taking the
D.D.from him would be like taking the clothes from Barnum's
Living Skeleton ; and giving them to Father Tayloi would be
like sticking a pair of goosc-quills into the wings of the Angel
Gabr'el.

"But let's get to work. A visit from such a man as he is, is
like a breath of good sea air; it puts life and energy into a
fellow, and makes him fc' like fa!.ing mountains by the ears.
Professor Krasinski v.'ill be lure to-morrow night, and our
lessons mu-t be recited without fault, fnr liis cunrnendations
Mi; wotth having."

Nora was the first to close her book. Perhaps this was due
not so mucli *o th( superior.' y of the feminine intel-
lect as to the fact that French is so much easier
to learn than Greek and Latin. She made no boasts of
being in advance of them, yet she was impatient at their delay,
for she was anxious to free iier mind concerning Ladd's griev-
ances and prospects. He was her schoolmate and she was
well acquainted with the good reputation he bore among the
teachers and his school companions.

"Is he really taken from that drunken father of i;is? and will
he really be sent to Exeter Academy?" she anxiously askec'.

"Be not faithless, but believine;," said Bert, {-romptl;,, lUm-

P^r

*>t.

ivould have
: more fusa
Tlic Lord
He placed
n the stairs
1 from their

ith enthusi-
away from

ral<ing the
m Barnum's
ot would be
af the Angel

m as he is, is
lergy into a
by the ears,
rht, and our
irnendations

this was due
ninine intcl-
much easier
no boasts of
It. their delay,
Ladd's griev-

and she was
re among the

{ iiis? and will
itsly askec'.
oniptl^, tum-

AIR OABTLB DON

289

ing against her the weapon nhc was so fund of using against
others. As soon as that rich lady hears that Don and Bob
I'langcr and Father Taylor are pushing him uphill, she'll join
in the push with all her might. Don said, Exeter Academy,
and that settles it. But won't Father Taylor enjoy showing
that fifty-dollar bill to Ladd and telling him the news. I
shouldn't mind being a minister myself if I could pray as he
prayed here, and have my prayers backed up as his are. It
would be better than being either rich or great. I shouldn't
wonder if Don finally ended in a white chocker."

"Father Taylor doesn't wear a white choker," said Don,
quietly. "Neither does Theodore Parker, nor Edward Everett
Hale, nor Starr King, nor Henry Ward Beecher," he con-
tinuec;, naming some of the eloquent men he had listened to.
"But The Reverend John Paul Lovejoy, D. D., does," he
added after a pause that was filled with bitter recollections.
"And now that I come to think of it, I never saw my father
wear a white choker. If I should ever get into the pulpit, I
would rather have the whiteness in my heart than around my
neck."

"But if I should ever marry a minister," said Nora posi-
tively, "I'd want him to wear a white tie; it looks so neat, cool
and stylish, you know."

"Of course," interrupted Bert, sarcastically: "the females
dote on the white choker, and I guess that's the principal
reason why so many ministers wear them. But I'll bet you a
dollar that neither Jesus nor the Apostles bothered themselves
about white chokers and shad-belly coats and collars. When
a minister has to advertise his calling by his clothes, it's a sign
that he should join the circus or the theater, where they depend
more upon advertisements than they do upon the Lord."

"You are just too awful for anything,' said Nora, gathering
up her books and leaving the room in a pout.

;^^|piiiWpilipi^

CHAPTER XXIV.

IN A PRBDICAMEKT.

Professor Krasinski was a naturalist, but not of the kind
that is satisfied with pressing a leaf in a herbarium and giving
it a big name in a learned language. If he happened to be
under apple blossoms in spring time, he would, as like as not,
say to an apple twig: "Look here, my fine little fellow; you
look very gay and sweet now, but very soon you'll have to shed
your blossoms, those daintily scented and beautifully crimpled
pink gown? and white petticoats, and begin to think of some-
thing more solid. I know that a green, fuzzy little apple is not
near so pretty as a blossom, but it's a deal more promising, and
the blossom that isn't willing to make room for it by dropping
out of the way, isn't worth the blooming."

In this same manner he studied boys in general, and Don
in particular, watching every degree of development, and talk-
ing his thoughts aloud with the most companionable freedom
and sympathy. He saw that Don's aims were becoming sim-
plified. The boy's mind was shedding its pink and white petti-
coats. It was rounding out into the shape of the sphere — that
simple form which is the symbol of solidity and completeness.

He and Don had been conversing about The Lady of The
Lake Gub, and it pleased him amazingly to hear Don go on,
because he saw that the boy was beginning to laugh at the

(240)

j^^ 'STJMTi"viyr'-"."5y-T^

AIR CASTLE DON

*;■' ^sv^* *?"^ ^^i^T'v^-vv'i T'-'''- '

241

of the kind
a and giving
»pened to be
s like as not,
; fellow; you

have to shed
ully crimpled
link of some-
le apple is not
romising, and
t by dropping

eral, and Don
lent, and talk-
nable freedom
jecoming sim-
nd white petti-
le sphere— that
[ completeness.
,e Lady of The
;ar Don go on,
o laugh at the

theatrical clothes, the complicated ceremonies, the tremendous
titles and the grandiloquent speeches of the secret conclave
that used to meet on board of The Lady of The Lake.

To make his laugh all the merrier, he fell in with his mood
and said: "Arnold Doane, your Grand Potentate, must have
been a master joker as well as a master of ceremonies. I sup-
pose he was trying to teach you how to make fun of the things
that deserve to be ridiculed, wise old boy that he was. Since
my arrival in this country I have joined six secret societies, for
I desired to learn something about the undercurrents of \mer-
ican life. I may be wrong in saying it, but nevertheless I am
of the opinion that several of the societies to which I belong
are jokes, native-born, American jokes. The robes worn and
the big titles assumed are doubtless intended to pour ridicule
upon the dazzling trumpery of old world monarchies. It is
possible, however, as I will admit, that they may also be
intended to ridicule the savagery of the aboriginal inhabitants
of this country — the Heap-Big-Indian with his Hole-In-The-
Sky name, and his eagle feathers, his red and yellow paint
decorations and all-night scalp and ghost dances. If they are
not jokers, they must have a hankering after old world splend-
ors and titles, and being afraid of democratic publicity, meet
in secret to gjratify their hankerings.

"But, by the way, what became of your juvenile Grand
Joker and his Lady of The Lake Crew? Are they still playing
Little Bo-Peep under those theatrical clothes and big titles,
or are they outgrowing such things?"

"Doane went to Australia to dig for gold, and the other
Grand Fellows are doing such common things as fishing, .dig-
ging potatoes, chopping logs, carpentering and ship-building,"
Don replied, hardly knowing whether to laugh, or to look
ferious, "I was Keyman to the club, and I am now keymat^

wmsm

242

AIR CASTLE DON

to the Vonberg cash box. I also wore the cap and bells at the
club, and for aught I know I am wearing them still."

"Never speak lightly of the common callings of life, my
lad," said Krasinski, earnestly. "Society couldn't stand upon
its legs for a moment if it were not for the bones of the
common callings. And never depreciate yourself. Self
depreciation is the mildew of ambition and endeavor, and the
bane of all success. It is not humility but only the mockery
of it. How about that boy you have recently taken in
charge?"

"Ladd Chapin is not in my charge," said Don. "I received a
note from Mrs. Lydia Godwin requesting me to take him to
her. She proved to be the lady who sent me fifty dollars to be
disposed of at my discretion. Being a rich widow without
children, she has adopted Ladd and will educate him. But
although Mrs. Godwin is doing so well by Ladd, she is getting
me into a sea of trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" asked the professor, solicitously.

"Tract trouble. She has laid out Salem street, and the
streets adjoining, into a tract district and wants me to become
her tract distributor. I told her I had no more piety than a
cat. Yet, notwithstanding all my protestations, she insisted,
and here I am with five hundred tracts on my hand which I
have promised to distribute. Now what do you think of that
for an adventure? I am to begin next Sunday by giving away
one hundred."

"But you could have declined," said K-asinski, smiling in
spite of his courtesy.

"Yes, of course I might, could, would or should have
declined, but for all that, I didn't, you see. She had been so
nobly generous to Ladd, I thought I ought to be willing to do
something for her. But one should have a face and a voice to

d bells at the
11."

;s of life, my
't stand upon
bones of the
'ourself. Self
;avor, and the
the mockery
itly taken in

,. "I received a
o take him to
:y dollars to be
vidow without
;ate him. But
[, she is getting

or, solicitously,
street, and the
s me to become
ire piety than a
IS, she insisted,
y hand which I
ou think of that
by giving away

inski, smiling in

or should have
She had been so
, be willing to do
ce and a voice to

AIR CASTLE DON

243

fit the tracts. I l-?»ve been looking over some of them, and the
more I examine them, the more ridiculous I feel. If anyone
should take one of those tracts and begin to converse about the
contents, there would be nothing for me to do but to run for
it. Let me try a dozeiT of them on you, professor, by way of
getting my hand in. You can at least tell me what you think
of them." And Don opened one of the packages and gave
Krasinski an even dozen.

The professor received them as gingerly as if he were
handling torpedoes. He was not used to this kind of spiritual
ammunition. Still, as in courtesy bound, he began to look
them over, but, as must be confessed, with the eye of a critic
instead of the submission of one who takes everything for
granted that passes under the name of religion. It required
no great insight to discern that some of the leaflets were very
good indeed, but that others of them were crude, if not coarse,
and unimpressive if not positively ludicrous in their exaggera-
tions. He rubbed his chin, scratched his head, and moved
uneasily in his chair. He was able to speak in seven
languages, but in the present instance was at a loss to express
himself in any.

"Did Mrs. God vin really give you five hundred of these
tracts to distribute promiscuo ly?" he asked, finessing for
time, in the hope that he shoula soon find words adequate to
the emergency.

"Yes; five packages, one hundred in each package, as you
can see for yourself," said Don, smiling, and placing the pack-
ages in a heap on one of the professor's knees. "And that is
not the worst of it," he added, as Krasinski carefully returned
the toppling pile to the table.

"What worse thing could a good woman do?" asked the

f?'.-

if-

r":

2i4

AIR CASTLE DON

professor, in an almost tragic manner, and bending forward so
as to meet the anr ver iialf way.

"She is a member of the Salem Street Congregational
Church, of which Doctor Edward Beccher is the pastor. She
gave me a note ot introduction to him, and would not let me
leave the house until I promised to go to him for further
instructions about this tract business. Think of jaeing sent to
beard such a lion as that in his own den ! Perhaps she has sent
me there to be converted, when the fact is, I don't want to be
converted — at least — not by any doctor of divinity."

At the mention of Doctor Beecher, Krasinski leaned back
in his chair with a sigh of relief. He was too much of a gentle-
man to make light of sacred things, but as Don went on he had
to bite his lips to prevent his mirth from getting the mastery of
his breeding.

"I will go to the doctor with you," he said, as gravely as
he could under the circumstances.

Don clapped his hands with delight, and exclaimed:
"With you to back me, I shall not be afraid to meet a dozen
D. D.s."

"The doctor is taking Hungarian lessons of me," continued
the professor. "I have an appointment with him this evening,
and you can go down with me. You may dismiss all fear of
embarrassment in his presence. We are friends, and the fact
that your pious Mrs. Godwin sends you to him gives me a
good opinion of her discretion. There is method in her mad-
ness, and, as I begin to suspect, something that is better than
method, even. It would do you no harm if you were to meet
the whole Beecher family."

"The whole Beecher family!" exclaimed Don, appalled by
the mere mention of such a thing. "Why there are eleven of

■srjjiMirijsBH^:

^l<a^||f|wp^ip'j>|#^ P ' l

p.t i ;^*g; y if%! ' i ' jj

g lorward so

ngregational
pastor. She
Id not let me

for further
being sent to

she has sent
I't want to be

leaned back
ch of a gentle-
?ent on he had
the niastery of

, as gravely as

nd exclaimed:
) meet a dozen

me,'* continued
m this evening,
miss all fear of
ds, and the fact
lim gives me a '
lod in her mad-
at is better than
3U were to meet

)on, appalled by
;re are eleven of

AIR OASTLB DON

them, including Doctor Lyman Beecher, the father
them all."

"Yes, I know it ; and I heard the grand old patriarch of the
tribe preach at Cambridge last Sunday. They make a bright
galaxy. T wish there were more such stars in the American
firmament. Their light reached me even in Hungary. Since
arriving here, I have become personally acquainted with six of
the family, and I am charmed with every one of them, but with
none more tlian with Edward, the Salem Street pastor, who
puts me more and more in love with American institutions and
people."

"I will consent to go there with you to-night if you think
that he will help me out of this tract predicament," said Don,
yielding to the professor's enthusiasm.

The doctor lived on one of the short streets leading out of
Salem street. He received his visitors very cordially and con-
ducted them into his study, which was such a wilderness of
books and such a chaos of papers and odds and ends of every
description, it was quite difficult to find a place to sit down.

"They say that confusion is a sign of genius," said the
doctor laughingly, "but I can assure you there is no genius
here, unless you have brought one with you." And he glanced
smilingly at Krasinski, and from him to Don, who colored like
a school girl, yet could not help smiling back at him.

"I am afraid that your Conflict of Ages is the cause of the
confusion in your study," said Krasinski; and then turning to
Don, he went on to say with a freedom that showed the terms
he was on with the doctor: "Every Beecher has a hobby, and
the doctor's hobby is that we lived in another world before we
arrived in this, and that we are permitted to come that we may
have a chance to correct the blunders we made before we came
here. He calls his book The Conflict of Ages, and I believe

■tidtfl

ff I n yyii a nii n i i

■- j - y

■^11 lljl Ijl . III! Rl

"TIT"

■I " t.'rr

246

AIR OASTLB DON

r>"

he is writing it to see how effectually he can get up a conflict
among the ministers. By the time his feilow clergymen are
done with his book there will be nothing but the covers left.
He has read chapters of it to me, and I'm inclined to think that
if these were Puritan times we'd see the doctor going up in
^moke some dry burning day. He is a heretic, if there ever
was one, but heresy is popular, and I suspect that the doctor is
as fond of popularity as any of us."

"But if he gets the ministers down on him, how can he
become popular?" asked Don in the innocence of his soul.

"Why, bless you, boy ! Don't you know that the man who
is unpopular with the ministers, is the man who becomes pop-
ular with the public?" said Krasinski, more than half seriously.

"You must not mind what the professor says," remarked
the doctor somewhat gravely.

"No," assented Krasinski, and then added apologetically,
"I have a pernicious habit of trying to make truth go further
by dressing it in clothes that do not belong to it. And, to use
a Yankee expression, 'I rather guess' I have contracted the
habit since I came to America."

The doctor laughed heartily at the remark, and then went
on to engage Don in conversation about some of his personal
experiences of which he had read so much in the papers.
Imperceptibly he approached the object of Don's visit. Evi-
dently Mrs. Godwin, under cover of tract work, desired to send
Don upon a sort of still hunt after the worthy poor and desti-
tute of the district. She had great confidence in his insighv
and discretion, which she thought had been developed in a
remarkable way by !;is own painful experiences. She pro-
posed to have words and deeds walk together. Doctor
Beecher underctoOii her and had an enthusiastic admiration for
her benevolence and wisdom. And such was the effect of his

^^ita.i^^ip 4a. ' if:.!:f * .yj B »

» j i ipjit» if iv'^ ' gi»!uwjw» ' »s i 'fi i< w*yj> ' q»ii'i«^

mmrmfififmfim

up a conflict
ergymen are
e covers left,
to think that
going up in
if there ever
the doctor is

how can he
: his soul,
the man who
becomes pop-
half seriously,
rs," remarked

ipologetically,

ith go further

And, to use

lontracted the

ind then went
>f his personal
n the papers.
I's visit. Evi-
lesired to send
oor and desti-
in his insight
leveloped in a
;es. She pro-
:ther. Doctor
admiration for
tie effect of his

AIB 0A8TLB DON

247

representations upon Don that his objections to the tract
business vanished.

"If that be her object," he said, earnestly, "I'll take five
hundred more of those iiacts, and agree to get rid of every one
of them."

The doctor continuing, said: "Mrs. Godwin thinks she
has such an awkward way of putting things, that the best
course for her to pursue was to send you to me for explana-
tions. She has a good deal more confidence in me than I have
in myself."

"I am glad I came, for I have discovered that she is a jewel
of a woman, and that you are a jewel of a preacher," said Don,
impulsively.

"Did you ever hear me preach?" asked the doctor, drawing
his face down.

"No; but I'll come the first ch?nce I get."

"Better not, my boy; I am as dry as a broomstick."

"Well, I like broomsticks that have good sweepers at the
end of them, especially when they get into the pulpit, where,
according to my notions, there is a grand chance for pulling
down cobwebs and getting rid of dust." '

The doctor glanced at Don very gravely for a moment, and
heaved a sigh, for cobweb"? and dust, however sacred they
might appear, were his particular aversion, and the greater part
of his life had been spent in contending with them. But he
thought it a strange coincidence that a mere boy should put the
truth so patly.

"What do you think of that, professor?" he asked, turning
to Krasinski, with a touch of pathos in his voice.

"Don't urge an answer," Krasii:>ki replied evasively. "I
am taking lessons that I must learn before I shall be prepared

1 ti

iimlm

sasfessA:-

„. .i»,ii-jii:.i;„ ..,i&ii&yftsiMjSlii..i

248

AtB 0A8TLB DON

to recite them. Please go on as if I were not here, or I shall
feel as if I were intruding."

"Intruding!" exclaimed the doctor, deprecatingly. "Never
Use that word in connection with yourself again. You are one
of the best brooms that ever came into this study. Cobwebs
and dust recognize their deadliest foe whenever they see you.
After your visits I am twice the broom I was before you came.

"But I have something else to say to your young friend.
Mrs. Godwin has been the means of sending five promising
ministers into the pulpit. She wishes, as she said to me, if
possible, to make the number a round half dozen." And
addressing Don directly, he continued: "She hopes that, by
getting you engaged in the work she has laid out for you in her
district, you will become her sixth preacher. She instructs me
to say to you that if you will consider the matter, she will sup-
port you through college and through a seminary course."

Don blushed to the top of his forehead at the bare thought
of ever entering a pulpit. There was a long pause, during
which the good doctor rejoiced in his heart, for he thought it
th? prelude of consent^ and acceptance.

"May I speak my mind freely?" asked Don, with deep
embarrassment.

"Certainly ! What else are we here for, if not for free and
honest speaking?" said the doctor forcibly.

"Mrs. Godwin must be a very noble woman," Don began,
"and I am profoundly thankful to her for the interest she takes
in me, and for the generous and lofty plans she is forming for
my future usefulness. But she is entirely astray in her selec-
tion. Ministers should be selected from the flower of man-
kind. I have neither the piety nor the ability for the work she
proposes."

.M^ f ^juwt* '- *v,.^^.y;iwi^pi, f iyw!;s <^ .!t^'.«^

AIR GA8TLB DON

24fi

ere, or I shall

ngly. "Never
You are one
idy. Cobwebs
• they see you.
fore you came.
' young friend,
five promising
said to me, if
dozen." And
hopes that, by
It for you in her
)he instructs me
er, she will sup-
lary course."
he bare thought
g pause, during
or he thought it

Don, with deep

not for free and

an," Don began,
interest she takes
he is forming for
tray in her selec-
e flower of man-
for the work she

'The bud that is enclosed in humility has great possibilities
in it," said the doctor, encouragingly.

"There are already two ministers in our family," Don con-
tinued, "and others of the boys seem to have inclinations that
run in the same direction. Even if I felt like becoming a
preacher, I should be suspicious of the feeling, because I think
it runs in the family blood."

"There are seven ministers in the Beecher family," inter-
rupted the doctor. "And if our three girls had been born boys,
doubtless they also would have gone into the pulpit. As it is,
it is pretty hard to keep them out of it. You have hit a good-
sized nail squarely on the head when you speak of blood ten-
dencies leading to intrusions into the pulpit."

And while he paused, as if in deep thought, Don began
again where the doctor had interrupted him. "From what I
have seen of ministers," he said, "three-fourths of them appear
to be mere broadcloth tramps driven around from pillar to post
at the beck and bid of the worst and meanest members in the
churches. And I have had enough of tramp-life already."

"There goes another nail!" exclaimed the doctor, who was
too honest to send truth to the shambles.

"Besides," continued Don, growing more and more earn-
est as he went on, "if I were desirous of entering the ministry,
I would never allow other people to pay my way in. If I
could not pay my own expenses, I'd give the pulpit a wide
berth. I have heard my father say that there is too much
drumming for pulpit students, and that too many of those who
are drummed into the schools and seminaries are altogether
too willing to have their way paid by other people."

"Your father must be a wise man," remarked Doctor
Beecher, "but even the wisest of men sometimes take extreme

sm^am

260

mim

AIR 0A8TLB DON

views of things; and when the fathers eat unripe grapes, the
children's teeth are apt to be set on edge. But it is evident
that your convictions are not to be blown away by a mere
breath of wind. I am free to acknowledge that it is better to
be footfast than headlong."

Thinking that it was time for him to end his call, Don, after
thanking thi' doctor for his interest in him, began to pick his
way through the piles of books that, owing to the overflowing
of the shelves, were stacked upon the floor. In spite of his
care, he upset two tall piles that fell to the floor with a great
noise. His apology for his awkwardness was interrupted by
the good nature of the doctor, who laughingly said :

"Never mind the books. It's only the Apostolical Fathers
and a lot of the commi tors that you have upset. In one
way and another t ncy have been upset no maay times that they
must be quit** used to it by this time. T presume that the
authors of some of them, having learned wisdom in Heaven
since their decease, would not be sorry if they were upset for
good."

"With so many books around you, you must be a very wise
man," said Don, diffidently.

"One may have many books and yet be wanting in wis-
dom," was the frank reply. "I sometimes think that I am
only what Pope calls

'A bookish blockhead ignorantiy read,
With loads of learned lumber in his head'."

"Just before coming here," replied Don, "the professor
gave me a short lecture on the evils of self depreciation ; I hope
that he will repeat it to you after I leave,"

Jiu^a^-^'^'^''''

c grapes, the
: it is evident
ly by a mere
it is better to

all, Don, after
an to pick his
le overflowing
n spite of his
r with a great
interrupted by
said:

tolical Fathers
jpset. In one
times that they
sume that the
om in Heaven
were upset for

L be a very wise

vanting in wis-
link that I am

d,
head'."

"the professor
■eciation; I hope

'' ■ «'■

CHAl TER XXV.

KBBPINO A CONTRACT V ' y " '^

One wintry Sunday morning Don awoke to find January in
his room claiming a welcome on the ground of having just
arrived from Nova Scotia. 1 1 is approaches were resented and
an eflfort was made to drive him out by kindling a fire under his
very nose. Scratching a hole through the thick frost upon
the window, Don saw a few of the taller ,himneys trying to
keep their mouths above the billows of a great white sea in
which the lower ones had been completely submerged. Where
the roofs of the buildings had been accustomed to show them-
selves there was nothing but wave on wave of silent crystals.

Boston had capitulated to a New England snowstorm of
nearly four days duration. The very boys had cried for
quarter and on Saturday had carried their sleds to the base-
ments knowing that even Boston Common was unavailable for
coasting.

The entrances to the city were hermetically sealed. The
snow in tlie streets was piled to the level of the lower window
sills, and the isolated vehicles on runners that ventured abroad
showed such a strong tendency to tumble upon the sidewalks
that pedestrians were few and far between.

The trees of the Common and the cemeteries cracked
beneath their burdens, while the streets resounded with the
noise of avalanches descending from the roofs.

The wind blew in terrific gusts, condensing the snowflakes

(251)

ttHk:msnk^''iii.«W'' jli ^it nj <»- ^'^^jXt-:^^^

^law

wmmm

262

AIR 0A8TLB DON

It.

~f ...

so compactly that they smote tike particles of flint and rasped
the exposed surfaces of the building like sandpaper. The cold
crept into the houses with such insidious persistency that even
living coals failed to emit heat sufficient to withstand it.

The hands of all the city clocks were frozen to their faces,
and city time was as silent as the great wooden watches that
marked where the time regulators wrought. Sextons, minis-
ters and congregations were unanimous in their convictions
for once, and not a single bell pealed the loud call to the usual
denominational rendezvous. Nature had given the signal to
the churches that for that day at least she intended to have the
monopoly of singing and preaching, notwithstanding her voice
was so untuneful and unwelcome.

The city was a whited sepulchre in which for the time being
the people were buried alive. Thomson and Whittier have
sung the poetic beauties of the snowstorm in the country, but
on the Sunday we commemorate, two hundred thousand peo-
ple, more or less, bitterly complained of the prosaic inconven-
iences of a snowstorm in the city.

After breakfast Bert, chilled to the bones and discontented
to the soul, and covered with a quilt in addition to the warmest
garments he could clothe himself in, went into Don's room and
seated himself as near to the stove as he could get with safety.

"Ever see anything like this down in old Acadia?" he asked
in a challenging way.

"No, I never did," said Don with proud concession.
"Nova Scotia is so nearly surrounded with water that weather
like this is next to impossible."

"Boston is nearly surrounded by water, too, but that
doesn't seem to make any difference with the weather," Bert
retorted.

"There is so little of it that it freezes up with everything

mmmmmm

flint and raspe(!|
per. The cold
tcncy that even
<tund it.

n to their faces,
en watches that
Sextons, minis-
icir convictions
call to the usual
en the signal to
ided to have the
anding her voice

3r the time being
d Whittier have
the country, but
ed thousand peo-
)rosaic inconvcn-

and discontented
»n to the warmest
> Don's room and
d get with safety.
Acadia?" he asked

roud concession,
rater that weather

jr, too, but that
le weather," Bert

) with everything

." 'I ". i -i<i!'j yf !!

AIB OASTLB DON

268

elrc, while the arms of the sea that surround Nova Scotia arc
so big and warm they never freeze," said Don, "and that is why
the atmosphere there never becomes like the congealing stuff
wc arc having here."

"1 wciity-sevcn degrees below zero," groaned Bert, "and
making a la-adcr for a still deeper plunge. The mercury will
burst the In lb next thing wc know and start South for a
warmer country. We'll have lively times at the store
to-moTow doing nothing but trying to keep our shins warm.
But say, old fellow, what in time arc you trying to do?"

Don had all the while been covering himself with a succes-
sion of garments. He now stood before Bert cased in a heavy
overcoat with the fur collar turned up his neck, and a fur cap
with earlets dropped to meet the collar. Bert was wrapped up
like a mummy to make himself proof against the cold, and he
supposed that Don was imitating his example preparatory to
chumming with him in the vicinity of the stove. But when, in
addition to gloving his hnnds, Don stuffed into his pocket
tracts enough to physic a hundred sinners, Bert's surprise
knew no bounds, and he again vented his emotions by a snap-
shot question.

"I promised to visit some of the back streets of my district
to-day," Don said, smiling at Bert's almost querulous manner,
"and promises should not be made unless there is an intention
to keep them."

"This is downright madness 1 Why, the angels themselves
would be excused from 'hovering around' on such a day as
this!"

"Possibly; but I am not an angel, and I shall have small
prospects of becoming one if I disappoint so good a woman as
Mrs. Godwin."

"She will put you down for a goose instead of an angel i{

msmmmdmmatt

254

AIR CASTLE DON

she hears that you have been out in this Siberian temperature."

"I think not. She has money for the needy, who in such
weather as this may be in their sorest trouble. So long as she
is ready to give, I am ready to be her hand. Besides, I'll
venture to say that Bob Flanger never let a snowstorm or a
cold wind keep him from the rail when it was his turn to be
on it."

He looked up at Bob's old hat so reverently that Bert
became ashamed of himself and said: "You are right, Don;
and if I had a drop of decent blood in my veins, or a single
grain of heroism in my nature, I'd trail after you like a dog
after his master."

"Where one is enough, two would be embarrassing. You
can stay at home with a good conscience. But if I were in
your place, I'd look out for the little mother as much as
possible, and see that the fires are kept going for her. And if
you were to encourage the boarders to patronize the coal bin
to-day, they'd think none the less of you for it. It would warm
their hearts, and that goes far toward warming the body. I
happen to know that you three are popular with the boarders
because they believe that you consider their comfort as well
as their pockets; that is a reputation worth keeping np. I am
happier in my attic with you than I could possibly be in a
parlor with some people I know."

Nora, finding that the lower part of the house seemed like
the interior of an iceberg, called for Bert jusi hs Don was
starting out. She was surprised to see Don armed cap-a-pie
for a battle with the elements, but on being informed of his
errand, v/as effusive in her pious commendations, especially of
the tract part of his mission.

"You will be sure to catch people at home," she said, "and

1:'

y« t A|;y'jgJi|t?wtWI-{|^!;^yJ V W ' '

'WywWlft ^ y''?■| ^ 'W ^. '^■qp|p?w wv ' ^l| ^ ^^ww.^wl^J». ! ;; r w ■l ^^.^. ' ^^

temperature."
, who in such
50 long as she
Besides, I'll
owstorm or a
liis turn to be

itly that Bert
e right, Don;
IS, or a single
ou like a dog

rassing. You
It if I were in
r as much as
r her. And if
:e the coal bin
[t would warm
f the body. I
li the boarders
amfort as well
ling up. I am
ssibly be in a

se seemed like
; IS Don was
rmed cap-a-pie
iformed of his
IS, especially of

she said, "and

AIR OASTLB DON

256

it will give you such a good chance to talk to them about their
souls."

"Their souls I" Don exclaimed, slightly impatient. "Those
who do not know how to handle a gun are not apt to go hunt-
ing fi r big game. I know no more about shooting for souls
than I do about hunting for elephants. Do you take me for a
Father Taylor or a Doctor Beecher? I'm willing to scatter
the tracts, but I wouldn't touch them with a ten foot pole if
this business were to end with them. When Bob Flanger and
Jake Cullum took me in among the roundhouse saints, they
didn't say anything about my soul, yet when they went to work
on my body, they touched the knocker of the front door of my
soul. That's what I aim and hope to do by going out to-day."

Don escaped as soon as he could, and Nora went in and
sat down with Bert, who, with a broad smile, said: "Mrs.
Godwin and Doctor Beecher combined can't get Don into the
pulpit."

Nora thought the pulpit the summit of all attainment.
Her imagination kindled at the bare idea of seeing Don cleri-
cally clad, even to the white tie, swinging his urms in all the
glory of sacred gesticulation and rolling out sentences in all
the unctuousness of pious speech and intonation. She
thought it would be just lovely to see him take his seat upon
a pulpit sofa, or chair, and put his right elbow in his left hand
and his right hand over his eyes with all the solemnity of min-
isterial dignity. Bert's declaration that Don would never go
into the pulpit excited her indignation to such an extent that
she roundly rebuked him for his liardness of heart and levity
of speech.

But out of this hillside of conviction and from among the
green herbage of religious sentiment so strongly predominant
in Nora's marked character, came a pure purling spring of

.<*j

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256

AIR CASTLE DON

maiden partiality for Don. It flowed so transparently and
openly that Bert had no difficulty in recognizing it. Nora
loved Don to a degree which startled her brother, and forth-
wi'Ji he resolved upon giving her something in return for what
she had just given him.

So he gave her a good round lecture on Donology, the gist
of which v.'as that no girl of her immature age should allow
herself to fall in love with a juvenile who was but a little older
than herself. He pointedly reminded her that she was not
living in India, where children are married at twelve, but in
Boston, where people are not supposed to reach the high noon
of love until they are twenty-five or thirty years of age."

"It isn't good sense," he went on to say, "for girls and boys
to go a-cooing with one another wholesale before their pin-
feathers begin to peep through the down of their pigeonhot d.
I don't mean to say," he went on with a very paternal ai.',
"that either one of you has been imprudently affectionate, for
although you and Don think so much of each other, you have
not made fools of yourselves. But I do mean to say that in
thinking of Don as a minister and wishing for him to be one,
you are also thinking of yourself as a minister's wife and
hoping to be one."

It was a cruel little lecture, but a wholesome one neverthe-
less. As for Don, Cupid played no tricks with him while on
the streets; Boreas was holding him too sternly in hand for
that. The snow blinded his eyes, the frost nipped his nose and
froze his very eyelashes together. Tiring of dodging aval-
anches from the roofs, he took to the middle of the street,
where he floundered about in great snowdrifts. Not a vehicle
made its appearance, and he ki ;w by the red and bloated faces
of the few pedestrians who were abroad that only an all-con-
suming thirst for strong drink could have drawn them out in

AItt CASTLE DON

867

iparently and
ing it. Nora
er, and forth-
:turn for what

ology, the gist
should allow
It a little older
she was not
twelve, but in
the high noon
rs of age."
■ girls and boys
;fore their pin-
;ir pigeonhoc d.
ry paternal au;
affectionate, for
other, you have
n to say that in
him to be one,
ister's wife and

le one neverthe-
th him while on
•nly in hand for
ped his nose and
f dodging aval-
le of the street,
i. Not a vehicle
md bloated faces
only an all-con-
awn them out in

such a storm. Seeing a white mound, out of which a shoulder
was protruding, Don probed it and extracted a man in the last
stages of intoxication. After working with him awhile, he
succeeded in learning his residence, whither he conducted him
with great difficulty, but only to be met by a virago of a woman
who cursed her husband, and Don also, for not letting him lie
where he had made his bed. Pitying the shivering children,
of whom there were three, he endeavord to propitiate the
mother in the hope of aiding them all But her violence was
so great he had no alternative but to leave the tumble-down
den that served as a shelter to the wretched family.

Warm welcomes elsewhere partly compensated him for the
untowardness of his first reception. Few were forward to ask
assistance, while nearly all were anxious to further his aims,
as well as willing to receive his leaflets.

Being informed that a family on the second floor of a tene-
ment building was reported to be in distress, Don knocked at
the designated door and by a voice within was curtly bidden
to enter.

On going in he found himself in a room lighted by a single
window thickly covered with the fantastic lacework of the frost.
The floor was bare, and the furniture consisted of a few dilapi-
dated chairs, a small table, on which were a few dishes, and
beneath which were piled the utensils belonging to a large,
much cracked cooking stove that was destitute of fire.

The occupants of this domestic desert had put on all the
scanty personal wear they possessed, and in addition, in order
to keep the breath of life in their bodies, had covered them-
selves in their beds, of which there were two. In one of these
lay the parents and two small children, in the other, were three
girls, ranging from six to thirteen. Of food there was not a
crumb.

t<!' 1

AIB CASTLE DON

Astounded by a destitution the like of which he had never
witnessed, Don expressed his sympathy and his destte to aid
them.

At the mention of aid, there was a general stir in the two
beds. The head of the family raised himself to an upright
posture, but glancing at the tracts Don held in his right hand
said, with the sarcastic bitterness of despair: "Tracts will
hardly meet tlie requirements of people who are starving and
freezing."

The frigid air was proof enough of the danger of freezing,
and the emaciation of the faces that were in sight was fright-
fully significant of the nearness of starvation.

"I beg _,our pardon," said Don, thrusting the tracts into his
pocket," I forgot I had the tracts. The sight of them must
be provoking to people who are in your condition. If you will
lie down and keep as comfortable as you can, I will come back
with fuel, food and raiment. I may be delayed because of the
storm and the state of the streets, but you may count on relief
for a certainty."

He had no sooner gone than there was a general outburst
of hopeful chatter in that dark chaos of poverty and helpless-
ness. The ragged shrouds stirred with something resembling
animation.

"Will he really come back?" asked the smallest girl, who
had been holding her hands in her armpits to keep them warm.

"Yes, Belle," replied Louise, the sister next in age, "didn't
you see his face? It looked as if there was a soul behind it
tliat never had a sham thought in it. He'll come back, never
fear."

Had it not been Sunday, Don's course would have been
clear to an immediate return from coal yard and grocery. As

-^.."W^T^

im- ' >4^t.ij ' jtiiij |

h he had never
is desue to aid

stir in the two
[ to an upright
1 his right hand
■: "Tracts will
ire starving and

iger of freezing,
sight was fright-
he tracts into his
ht of them must
tion. If you will
I will come back
sd because of the
iy count on relief

general outburst
:rty and helpless-
jthing resembling

smallest girl, who

keep them warm.

:xt in age, "didn't

s a soul behind it

come back, never

would have been
and grocery. As

AIR CASTLE DON

269

it was, he went direct to Doctor Beecher as being the nearest
available help.

In the absence of the usual Sunday services and partially
inspired by the voices of the storm, the doctor was deeply
absorbed in working out another chapter of his book on "The
Conflict of Ages." He was brought down from his clouds by
the appearance of Don in his hallway looking like an animated
snowman. Notwithstanding the doctor was a master of words
he knew the value of deeds. When Don had told his errand,
Beecher immediately began to buzz like a bee which has spread
his wings for business.

"You see that house on the other side of the street," he
said, directly. "Well, go over there, and besides finding snow
upon the street, you'll find snow upon the doorplate, and that's
the name of my best deacon. Give him my compliments and
your story and tell him to load up for duty. Then hurry over
to Major Vonberg's house and tell him to ditto with coals,
kindling and whatever else he can carry, for his daughter Dor-
othy has a handsled that she uses for coasting on Copi»'s Hill.
Direct him to report to Deacon Snow in a hurry. Meanwhile
I'll see what the preacher can muster. We'd call upon Mrs.
Godwin, but she is too far away for our present purpose, and
we will hold her as our reserve,"

When they met in front of Df aeon Snow's house, they were
bundled up to the verge of suf^otation. The doctor carried
two big baskets, one packed with provisions, and the other
with clothing. In his haste to find clothing, he jammed his
best vest and trousers into the basket and didn't discover his
error until the next Sunday morning, when he wanted them
for pulpit wear. The deacon, big, florid and generous, also
had a sledload of provisions and clothing. The major, puffing
like a small engine, had coals, kindling, clothing and edibles

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260

AIR OASTLE DON

tied on by means of a clothesline which his servant girl looked
for in vain during the next washing at his house. When they
started, Vonberg tugged at the rope ahead, and Don pushed
behind. Keeping to the inner side of the sidewalk, they
escaped several avalanches that shot from roofs into the street;
but when they reached Salem street, a snow cliff that was no
respector of persons, and that had been waiting for a chance
to play a prank, slid from a steep roof and buried the whole
party. When, unharmed, they began to wriggle out of the
snow like angle worms out of the ground, they were assisted
by a lone policeman, who by some miraculous activity of con-
science was trying to patrol his beat. Seeing that nobody was
hurt, and that nothing was lost, and finding that all four were
having a merry time over their misfortune, he took the baskets
of the doctor, whom he recognized as he did the rest, and
directing him to hitch himself to Snow's sled as furnishing the
easier task, he accompanied them on the way.

Although talking to the wind is generally regarded as a
futile proceeding, the major was voluble in his addresses to the
blast and at times charged against it as vociferously as if he
were leading a charge against an enemy in Mexico. His
broken orations were so quaintly amusing that after one of his
most vehement outbursts the policeman, the deacon and the
doctor sat down on a snow-cushioned house-stoop to recover
from their mirth.

Don sat on a snowdrift for a like purpose, but suddenly
recalling the scene of destitution he had witnessed, he said:
"Gentlemen, while we are laughing, that family is starving
and freezing."

"God forgive us!" exclaimed the doctor, taking hold of the
sled rope again; "but then, after all, God knows that a good
slice of our lightness of heart is owing to our being on the way

i--

'ant girl looked
le. When they
id Don pushed

sidewalk, they
i into the street;
:liff that was no
ng for a chance
uried the whole
iggle out of the
ey were assisted
3 activity of con-
that nobody was
hat all four were

took the baskets
iid the rest, and
as furnishing the

lly regarded as a
is addresses to the
:iferously as if he
in Mexico. His
lat after one of his
le deacon and the
e-stoop to recover

30se, but suddenly

witnessed, he said:

family is starving

, taking hold of the
knows that a good
iir being on the way

rl^

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)(Ni4ii<a

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AIR CASTLE DON

261

to help them. A pint of helpfuhiess is more exhilarating than
a puncheon of wine."

The noise made by their ascent of the stairs aroused the dis-
tressed family, and when the party entered, they stood in the
room looking at the invaders with big-eyed wonder.

Don attacked the stove without ceremony. As the readiest
means of starting a blaze under the kindling sticks, he set fire
to the remainder of his tracts, saying as he did so, that he knew
of no better use to which they could be put under the circum-
stances. Both the doctor and the deacon said, amen.

When the invasion was over and the family was left to
itself, there was a thanksgiving that needed no governor's
proclamation to make it valid.

Delavin, the head of the family, was an American ship car-
penter, an industrious and sober mechanic, and foreman of his
yard. Owing to the depression of the times and his inability
to obtain other work, his savings gradually vanished until,
driven from his originally comfortable home, even his furniture
disappeared piece by piece to the pawnbrokers for subsistence.

They had been too proud spirited to ask for help, and had
become so reduced that they were unable to continue their
search for employment. With the means of existence and
comfort now liberally yet judiciously supplied, their quarters
were changed, their persons clothed, their bodies fed, and
through the deacon and the major, Delavin found odd jobs
sufficient to carry him through the remainder of the winter.
Nor was he left to his own resources until amply able to pro-
vide for himself and family by turning his mechanical skill to
the building of railway bridges, in which calling he soon
became very favorably known.

Of all the distinguished men filling the Boston pulpits at
that time, there was doubtless not one but would have been as

/ ' i i

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"■•'"I'WfP

AIR 0A8TL« DON

prompt as Doctor Beecher to go to the aid of the needy on
that Sunday had he been called upon for such a work. The
same conviction may be justly expressed concerning the lead-
ing officials of the churches, and very many business men.
But there is no denying the dearth of Dons willing to search in
the face of discomfort for the perishing who, for want of
searching, suffer torments.

When Don returned and gave an account of his experi-
ences, Bert grew discontented with himself. Nora, on the
other hand, congratulated herself on having encouraged him to
go forth, and, alas, for even sweet maidenhood, she, with an
appreciable degree of self righteousness, credited herself in no
small degree with the honor of his work.

There was an interesting sequel to Don's day's \ jrk that
may be referred to hereafter. ..

l i^fUfW^' . ^ ' " ^ ■ ' M^Jf'If^f'.WW P fj

)! the needy on
1 a work. The
erning the lead-
r business men.
ling to search in
M), for want o!

It of his expert-
Nora, on the
icouraged him to
od, she, with an
ited herself in no

day's \ ork that

CHAPTER XXVI.

A FRUSTRATBD THRBAT.

After their work was done. Deacon Snow insisted that his
companions should dine with him. At the table a No Name
Society was formed, which in course of time included seventeen
others besides the four. Strange to relate, this society existed
without constitution, rules, officers, annual meetings, reports
or speechmakings. It simply said to Don: "Go ahead, and
we will back you with all the money you need, and our per-
sonal efforts also, whenever you have a mind to order us to
the pulling line."

So far from proclaiming their doings upon the housetops
or in the market places, or even at the altars of religion, they
did not all know one another, much less what each one did to
keep Don supplied with means. Nor did the papers become
apprised of their doings until an untoward incident made them
conspicuous.

Armed with another bundle of tracts supplied from Mrs.
Godwin's pious store, Don went out one Sunday morning
toward spring on a 'still hunt' for other necessitous cases. His
bank trust fund was growing faster than was comfortable for
his conscience. It was now eleven hundred dollars, and he
was anxious that every dollar of it should be about its business.

When evening came, Don did not return; this was cause
for anxiety, for the Williamses knew of no intimate friend at
whose house he would be likely to pass the night. But when

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264

AIR CASTLE DON

il ■

day after day passed without tidings from him, alarm deepened
into despair. Immediate measures were taken to obtain some
hint of his fate, but without cflfect.

Instead of sympathizing with the general anxiety excited by
Don's disappearance. Miss Agincourt, with a pervers'ty, phe-
nomenal for a woman, insinuated to the Vonbergs that he had
appropriated the money he was known to have been the custo-
dian of and had left for other fields. She even went so far as
to intimate that if the Vonbergs were to examine their books
they would find that he was a defalcator of their own funds.
This so aroused Dorothy's indignation and the ire of the mas-
culine Vonbergs that she was glad to make an excuse for leav-
ing their house at the earliest possible moment.

After her departure, Mrs. Vonberg undertook to palliate
her offense by pleading her lonely condition, and this stretch of
charity induced the major to say in the best German he could
command that his wife was never able to recognize the devil
until his horns grew long enough to scrape the ceiling.

The reporter who had befriended Don at the first, and had
steadfastly adhered to him through thick and thin, now urged
the major to put an expert on his books in Don's defence.
This was done with results that were anticipated by his friends.
He called at North Square to obtain what information he could
concerning Don's benevolent accumulations and e:rpenditures.
His private memorandum was found to contain a systematic
account of all amounts received and expended, while his bank
book showed that the balance called for by the memorandum
had been deposited at the bank. A call at the bank elicited the
fact that the money was on hand.

"Everything is as transparent as air, and as clean as sun-
light," said the reporter to the major, "so far as his accounts
are concerned. He has doubtless become the victim of foul

l'"f(:l f-

'" 1Tr''!y^^-'^^V ' ^i^' ' ^l'y* '' " ' '* ^^ ^' ' ''■*-''^' ' ""*^ ' *' ' ' ' -'^ ' ''? ' ■ ' |^^

alarm deepened
I to obtain some

xiety excited by
pervers'ty, phe-
ergs that he had
: been the custo-
n went so far as
nine their books
their own funds,
e ire of the mas-
excuse for leav-
t.

rtook to palliate
,nd this stretch of
jierman he could
cognize the devil
le ceiling,
the first, and had
thin, now urged
n Don's defence.
:ed by his friends.
)rmation he could
and expenditures,
itain a systematic
:d, while his bank
the memorandum
e bank elicited the

i as clean as sun-
ir as his accounts
the victim of foul

AIR C.\STLE DON

265

play. I have been in the district he was accustomed to visit
on Sundays, but beyond the testimonies of a few families that
saw him on the day of his disappearance, at a certain hour in
certain places, I can gather nothing that would give a clew to
his fate. A reward ought to be offered for tidings of him."

"That has already been decided upon," said Werner, "and
we have just sent to the press an advertisement offering a
reward of one thousand dollars in such a way as to cover all
the requirements of the case. Besides this, we have sent for
the best detective of New York to come to our assistance."

The press and the police, to whom Don was so well known,
sympathetically furthered the effort to solve the mystery of his
disappearance.

But Don was not dead, nor had he left the city.

When he went out on the Surday he vanished from sight,
he intended to extend his explorations to Endicott and
Charlestown streets which, at that time included a neighbor-
hood of doubtful repute. Those acquainted with the district
alleged that it was a covert for sneak thieves and cracksmen,
and criminals of a similar description. Don, however, knew
nothing of this; he only saw that it was a shabby looking dis-
trict, and he went into it thinking that beneath its surface he
might happen upon some unfortunates that would be benefitted
by his visit.

Discovering an open passage leading to the upper floors
of a dilapidated brick building of large proportions, he
addressed a neatly clad dark-complexioned man who stood at
the foot of the stairs, and after handing him a leaflet, asked if
he thought there would be any objections made to the distri-
bution of similar-leaflets among the occupants of the building.

The man deliberately folded the tract and put it into the
inner pocket of his overcoat. Fixing a keen, yet somewhat

1 1

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„M :t'!' j,ef..'i

»n«aaiipppii

SI66

AIR CASTLE DON

furtive eye, upon Don, he said in words that were entirely out
of keeping with the neatness of his appearance: "You are a
pretty young kid to be round peddling holiness; but ihem what
lives in this block needs all the pious pills you can chuck into
'em. Go right up and let 'em have it. They'll guy you a bit,
but I 'spose you're used to that sort of thing."

On the first two floors the occupants seemed to be so aston-
ished by his presence that they were speechless when the leaf-
lets were offered. Some accepted them and others simply
closed the door against him. In one place he was greeted with
a string of oaths that were as original as they were wicked.

On knocking at a dooi on the upper floor, which hsd but
one occupied quarter, he was ushered into a room containing
two men and one woman. The men were playing cards, but
the instant he was inside, they greeted him with oaths, and,
rising, approached him menacingly. Now that they faced
him, Don recognized them as the brothers of one of the men
sentenced lo the penitentiary for robbing the Vonberg house.
Both were at the trial at which their brother was condemned,
and as Don left the court room, one of them hissed into his ear:
"We'll do you up for this."

Instinctively realizing that he was in danger, Don backed
toward ihe door, but before he could make his escape he was
knocked senseless io the floor by a sandbag in the hands of
one of the ruffians. When he regained consciousness, he
found himself bound hand and foot, and gagged, and sore from
head to feet from the kicks they had given after he fell. The
room was so dark he could form no idea of either its dimen-
sions or its appearance. He had no means of judging how
long he had been there, and besides, he was in such a weak
condition that when he attempted to shift his position by roll-
ing over on his side, he relapsed into unconsciousness.

ere entirely out
;: "You are a
; but them what
can chuck into
1 guy you a bit,

I to be so aston-
s when the leaf-
I others simply
vas greeted with
were wicked.
, which hsd but
oom containing
aying cards, but
with oaths, and,
that they faced
one of the men
Vonberg house,
was condemned,
ssed into his ear:

yer, Don backed
is escape he was

in the hands of
onsciousness, he
id, and sore from
[terhefell. The
either its dimen-

of judging how
5 in such a weak
, position by roll-
:iousness.

AIR CASTLE DON

267

After knocking their victim down and gratifying their
revengeful feelings by kicking him severely, the men robbed
him of his watch and money. Believing that he was fatally
injured, the removed him to a large dark closet, where they
.'ntended to leave him until night, at which time they proposed
to remove him to a back alley and leave him to his fate.

On Saturday evening Don had written a note to Doctor
Beechor in which he stated the amount he had in the bank to
the credit of his trust fund account, and expressed his desire to
expend it more rapidly than he was doing. This note was on
Don's person, and fell into the hands of his assailants. It
excited their cupidity and prompted them to hold Don as a
prisoner until such times as they could arrange plans by which
the money in bank could be gotten into their possession.
Removing the gag and giving him food sufficient to keep him
alive and keeping guard over him with unceasing vigilance,
they tried to work upon his fears, but to no purpose. He
assured them that they might as well kill him at once, for the
money was beyond their reach, an J would remain so. If he
were to promise to give it up, tbt; circumstances of his disap-
pearance were so well known at the bank that any atten.ot to
ransfer the amount would inevitably lead to the detection and
arrest of the men.

They realized the cogency of his arguments and were about
to abandon their plan and kill him outright, when a new turn
was given to their thoughts by the appearance of the advertise-
ment, offering the reward for Don or for any information that
would determine his fate. They now proposed to work for
the reward and tried to starve Don into submission to their
plans.

So intent were they upon the execution of their villainy

■i* I

«.

■ .,■ f ' Mf^Vi i t'! "

"^' * , ' , i!'S ^

268

AIR CASTLE DON

that it would have fared hard with Don but for an interposition
from an unexpected source.

Rudd Debolt, the man to whom Don addressed himself at
the entrance of the building on the morning of his disappear-
ance, was a notorious cracksman, who had jnst been liberated
from the penitentiary after serving ten years for burglarizing a
safe in a store. When Don met him he stood in the doorway
deliberating upon his future course. The tract Don gave him
consisted of extracts from a sermon delivered by Edward Ever-
ett Hale, then young and very popular in Boston. Krasinski
showed the sermon to Don and with such unqualified approval
that the two published the extracts in a leaflet form for use in
Don's work. The title was The Better Life, and the words
were characterized by both the eloquence and the common
sense of the young preacher.

When Debolt read the leaflet it made him a changed man,
and notwithstanding the difficulties in his way, he determined
to make a struggle for the better life. Both Don's face and
manner had accentuated the tract.

When, in connection with the reward the papers described
Don, the burglar immediately recognized the description. He
remembered that he saw Don go up the stairs of the building
on the second floor of which he himself had a room. He was
struck by the fact, so explicitly brought out by the press, that
Don was last seen on Endicott street, and he determined, if
possible to, to penetrate the mystery of his disappearance, and
to restore him to his friends.

Debolt was expert in reading the thoughts of the class to
which he had heretofore belonged. He was quick to perceive
that the Bedling brothers — the men who captured Don — had
something unusual upon their minds. Making himself more
than ordinarily familiar with them, he wormed himself into

^mm

•^T"

B 'www pmtujW i M iwii . pi m g i wf m tf ^ y iT^' . w w "

AIK CASTLE DON

269

an interposition

essed himself at
>f his disappear-
it been liberated
)r burglarizing a
1 in the doorway
:t Don gave him
ly Edward Ever-
ston. Krasinski
ualified approval
t form for use in
!, and the words
ind the common

I a changed man,
ly, he determined
ii Don's face and

papers described
description. He
rs of the building
a room. He was
by the press, that
he determined, if
lisappearance, and

hts of the class to
; quick to perceive
iptured Don — ^had
king himsel* more
rmed himself into

their confidence, and very soon, after obtaining their secret,
became an apparent confederate in their conspiracy, thus learn-
ing where and how Don was confined. Having attained his
object, the police were informed, and when the building was
surrounded by an adequate force, Don was discovered in the
condition described by the ex-burglar, the criminals having
been captured at the outset.

Don had been a captive for fourteen days, and was so
emaciated that he was but the shadow of his former self.
Vonberg, who had bewailed him as dead, was greatly desirous
of removing him to his own house for care and medical treat-
ment, but, as was natural, Don preferred to be taken to his old
quarters and to the companionship of the widow's family.

Happily he was not so much injured c-s was at first feared,
and his recovery was so rapid that in six days he was able to
return to his duties.

Den's abductors were speedily sent to keep company with
the two criminals he had so accidentally discovered on Copp's
Hill. . "

It was one of the curious effects of this series of incidents
that the vicious classes of that part of the city became super-
stitiously afraid of Don and avoided the very mention of his
name lest it should cast an unlucky spell upon them. If any
of them happened to see him on the street in the vicinity of
their haunts, they fled from him lest a look from him should
send them to prison.

The building where Don was held captive was discovered
by the police authorities to be the nesting place of some of the
most notorious criminals of the city. The eminently respect-
able member of society who had drawn a portion of his wealth
from the rentals of the building became so ashamed of the
notoriety he attained through the publication of the facts, that

aifc-Wt^Hf ^uJ iH **" m<

I'i^' ..-viitf «*i"-^.-:¥.

270

AIR OASTLB DON

he demolished tho structure and on its site constructed a tene-
ment house that would bear the scrutiny of civilized people.

"Now, Master Don," said Bert one evening in the presence
of Nora, "you have won scars enough to last for the remainder
of your natural life, and you ought to turn over this tract busi-
ness and this running around after poor people to some of the
societies and their agents."

"Yes,'' assented Nora, who had suffered unspeakably on
Don's account, and who, at the moment forgot to be consistent
with herself, "let the societies do this work. You have done
more than your share of it." ,

But Don, who was neither dismayed by his experiences nor
diverted from his purpose, said: "There is already too much
societyism and oiBcialism in caring for the neglected and the
unfortunate. When people are wrecked, they want a rescue
rope and not a piece of red tape. I shall stick to our No
Name way of working; and all the closer, now that I have
Debolt to help me. He has become a host in himself."

At the mention of Debolt, both Bert and Nora g^rew less
confident as to the righteousness of their motives in trying to
dissuade Don from continuing his Sunday work.

There was good reason for mentioning Debolt in such high
and confiding terms. He was entitled to the reward offered
for Don, but refused to accept it. This is what he said in
explanation :

"That lad gave me that tract at the very moment I was
debating my future course in my own mind. When one is
just from the penitentiary one's prospects are not very promis-
ing. Nor is this to be wondered at. Bad wheat is apt to
make bad flour. Those who are bad enough to be sent to the
penitentiary come out no better than they were when they
were sent in. There may be exceptions, but they are few.

? w. TiyT«'T r ^ y g n > p»

itructed a tene-
ilized people,
in the presence
the remainder
this tract busi-
to some of the

inspeakably on
to be consistent
You have done

experiences nor
ready too much
glected and the
J want a rescue
kick to our No
low that I have
himself."
Nora grew less
ives in trying co
)rk.

)olt in such high
; reward offered
what he said in

■ moment I was
1, When one is
not very promts-
wheat is apt to
to be sent to the
were when they
lit they are few.

AIR 0A8TLB DON

271

Still if others were met as I was met, they might be induced to
do as I have done.

"My first step in the better life was my determination to
find Don if he was alive, or to get at the secret of his disap-
pearance if he were dead. I took my success in finding him
alive as a sign that I was to be successful in my efforts to be
a different man. I never thought of the reward for a single
moment ; indeed, I forgot that it was offered.

"If I were to accept it, people would say that I found the
boy for the sake of the money, and I should also be liable to
the suspicion that I had been a party to his disappearance.
I sought him for his own sake, and also because I felt that in
some way my life was bound up in his.

"Do what you please with the reward. All that I ask is
that I may find employment that will enable me to live an
honest life, and that I may be allowed to accompany the lad on
his Sunday trips among the waste places of the city as a guard
and helper."

The major, who, with his sons, had offered the greater part
of the reward, decided to set the money apart for relief work.
He was so strongly moved by Debolt's plea that he made him
foreman of his packing department, where he proved handy
and faithful, and all the rtiore so because he was in constant
contact with his young friend.

Debolt now invariably accompanied Don on his Sunday
tours among the needy and neglected. He had a peculiar
tact for approaching people who were inclined to be suspicious
of efforts made for their elevation. He was a good singer and
ready and apt in speaking. Encouraged by Den. he started
'Betterment Meetinofs' in various localities and gave 'Break
Lock Talks' that brcg^ht him into notice all over the city.
Don listened to him with an amazement bordering on awe, and

r^a^\v^^sw^¥WP?&i>'* '^'T*^-'"-'

S3C=?

•"TT"

972

AIR CASTLE DON

received impressions from his words that sank very deeply
into his life.

So many were afTccted by Dcbolt's 'New Life* stories that
it soon became a question as to what should be done with those
who had determined to imitate his New Life example.

"Organize a mission," said some ; and even before any plan
was formed for such a purpose, some began to strain their
inventive powers for a suitable name for such an undertaking.
There were almost rancorous disputes as to whether it should
be called The Bethel Miosion, or the Bethesda; the Bartimeus
Mission or the Magdalene, Two or three wealthy people
offered to furnish large sums of money toward the proposed
enterprise, provided the mission should be named after selected
members of their families. One, especially, a gentleman who
had made a fortune by manufacturing beer, offered ten thou-
sand dollars if they would name the mission The Elizabeth
Chapel, after a deceased daughter.

Neither Don nor Debolt sympathized with any plan that
proposed to tag the sheep of the fold with discriminating dis-
tinctions. There were churches enough in the vicinity to fur-
nish accommodations for all who were in earnest. There was
no scriptural precedent for tagging some sheep as having fine
wool and others as having coarse wool, and separating the one
class from the other class as if, instead of being sheep and —
sheep, they were sheep — and goats.

Deacon Snow aided and abetted by his robust pastor, said:
"Fetch them along; the faster the better. We have nothing
that is too good for them. Converted sinners, like Debolt,
may be the means of converting some of our saints and causing
them to see the error of their fastidious ways. No church
should be a mere starch manufactory."

»-'ii*l#i&

*>'-li

ink very deeply

Life' stories that
! done with those
example.
1 before any plan
n to strain their
I an undertaking,
whether it should
la; the Bartimcus '
; wealthy people
ard the proposed
med after selected
a gentleman who
offered ten thou-
on The Elizabeth

nth any plan that
iiscriminating dis-
the vicinity to fur-
rnest. There was
eep as having fine
separating the one
being sheep and —

robust pastor, said:
We have nothing
mers, like Debolt,
• saints and causing
ways. No church

CHAPTER XXVII.

AN KliOPBMKNT.

The Lady of The Lake Club continued its existence,
though now not one of the original members was in attend-
ance upon its frequent sessions. Tlie roster of the constituent
members still occupied the place of honor on the walls. The
list, made out in the beautiful handwriting of Arnold Doane,
and carefully framed and glazed, and running with elaborately
ornamented titles from the Grand Potentate down to the
Gtand Keyman, was as reverently regarded as if it were a
patent of nobility to which the later members owed both their
importance and their inspiration.

Peter Piper had no home of his own, but being in great
repute among the boys as a man who had no end of veteran
yarns to recite, they built him a cuddy on The Lady of The
Lake and placed him in charge of all the belongings of the
club, furnishing him with the requisite amount of food to keep
the breath of life in him, and a small gratuity besides,

Peter was proud of his office, and conscientiously lessened
the expense of his, keep by making independent additions to his
larder. A hook cast overboard brought him fish, recourse to
the shore supplied him with clams, search among the shore
recks gave him lobsters, and, as he was handy with his g^n,
there were wild ducks that could be had for the shooting.

He had but a single daily companion, and that was a large
red squirrel, which he had captured in the days of its infancy

i < a & &fet .. -

.,} .i: ,

^SipflWW-

AIR CASTLE DON

and trained to obey his behests, listen to his conversation and
amuse his lone hours. The s(iuirrel generally perched on
Peter's shoulder in demure sobriety while the Scot was reading
his Bible, and for want of a tree ran up and down his legs and
played hide-and-go-seek among his garments when liberties
of that kind were permitted. When Peter talked, the squirrel
having discovered that he conversed more for the sake of list-
ening to himself than he did for the benefit of his company,
chattered irrelevantly back again in a language which had
descended to it from the woods.

As a stimulus to memory, Peter called the squirrel Don^
and when it was too pranky for profit, he gave it lessons in
gravity with as much earnestness as though he were address-
ing Air Castle Don himself.

He kept Don supplied with leaves for his bed, nuts for his
chops, salt for his tongue, and any amount of liberty for his
recreation. Thankful for the ease of his old age, he not infre-
quently said to the squirrel: "I have been young, and now
am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his
seed begging bread. See Psalm thirty-seven and twenty-five."

It was against Peter's principle to do any work upon the
Sabbath day; hence he never rowed ashore to nttend church.
The touch of the oars would have been a breach of the com-
mandments. But he did not go without preaching. He held
services on boArd, and having heard so many sermons during
Lis life-time that were not according to his notions of what
l':ey should have been, he preached from the same texts so as
to suit himself, and never failed to complete the service by
1 raying prayers of Scottish length, and singing Scotch ver-
sions of the psalms without abbreviation.

At such times the squirrel availed himself of his liberty,
and, curling himself up in his leafy bed, slept through the whole

"■•'•"^f''

conversation and
ally perched on
Scot was reading
lown his legs and
ts when liberties
Iked, the squirrel
r the sake of Hst-
of his company,
juage which had

the squirrel Don^

gave it lessons in

he were address-

s bed, nuts for his
of liberty for his
[ age, he not infre-
1 young, and now
forsaken, nor his
n and twenty-five."
ny work upon the
; to attend church.
Breach of the com-
■eaching. He held
ny sermons during
lis notions of what
lie same texts so as
lete the service by
inging Scotch ver-

nself of his liberty,
t through the whole

AIR OASTLB DON

276

performances of his revered master. That squirrel dis-
tinguished times and seasons ; for when the club was on board
he was all life; he climbed legs with impunity, and stationed
himself on the shoulder of The Grand Potentate whenever he
desired to watch the proceedings of the august body.

The Lady of The Lake became enamoured of Peter Piper,
and fearing lest some untoward event should separate her from
him, she determined to elope with him. Consulting her "next
best friend," the Wind, she arranged her programme accord-
ing to his suggestions.

On Saturday night Peter went to bed and slept the sleep
of the just ; but when he awoke in the morning her Ladyship
was dancing with a recklessness that made him think he was
dreaming with his eyes open. The squirrel, terrified by the
unwonted movements of The Lady, crouched on the Scotch-
man's breast and worked its jaws to express its discontent.

Becoming conscious of his presence, Peter said: "Donny,
are my senses leavin' me? Or is the de'il really rockin' us on
the holy Sabbath day?"

He dressed himself and cautiously ascended to the deck.
The air was clear, and a flood of sunrise-light reddened sea
and sky. A faint purple streak in the far distance was the only
sign of land. In the early part of the night a sudden squall
of unusual violence had broken the Lady from her moorings,
carried her out toward the mor^h of the harbor and then left
her to herself. The outgoing tiJ". carrried her into the open
waters of the Bay of Fundy, where, with a wind off shore, she
was drifting further and further to sea.

Peter was not long in guessing what had happened; the
fragment of chain hanging from the bow, and the confusion
of things on deck told the story. Nor was he slow to discover

276

AIB CASTLE DON

the predicament he was in, nor long in making up his mind
what to do.

"Sin' I canna help mysel' I'll gae below an get my break-
fast," he said, resignedly. "What is to be, will be. Gin the
Lord is gaein' to bury me at sea wi' tlic vessel for a coffin to
save the expense o' a funeral on Ian', he'll not begrudge rne
the eatin' o' the things I hae for breakfaet."

He went below and prepaiod his meal with his accustomed
care, and ate it with his usual relish. Donny accupied a place
at the bottom of the table and followed his master's example,
by eating his morning allowance of two nuts and as much corn
cake as he chose to indulge in. After breakfast, Peter read a
chapter of the Bible, quaveringly sang a section of the metrical
Psalms and devoutly prayed a long prayer. Promptly, when
the club clock indicated the usual hour of Sabbath worship, he
solemnly placed himself in The Grand Potentate's chair of
office behind the stand, and resolutely performed all the parts
of a regular service, while Donny rolled himself into a ball and
somr.olcntly enjoyed his ease in one of the club chairs. Not
until the self-appointed minister ceased his droning, did the
squirrel begin to show signs of life again. Then he went to
his master and sought to climb to his shoulder in his habitually
gamboling manner.

"It isna fit ye should be sae blithe upo' this day," said Peter,
rebukingly ; "it's not only the Sabbath day, but a day o' afflec-
tion an' woe besides. Gae to yor nest an' leave me to my
sorrow." There was something hindering in his voice, as
Donny was quick to discern, but inasmuch as the roaster
ofTcred no violent opposition, he cautiously continued his
climbing till he reached the shoulder where he stood up and
industriously set his pelt in order. Peter affected to ignore
his presence, yet all the while was glad of his company.

pdvkuTT^^r ^~>v^ii^»4vt U

AIR CASTLE DON

27/

cing up his mind

an get my break-
will be. Gin the
;scl for a coffin to
not begrudge me

ith his accustomed

y accupied a place

master's example,

5 and as much corn

kfast, Peter read a

tion of the metrical

Promptly, when

sabbath worship, he

Potentate's chair of

formed all the parts

tnself into a ball and

le club chairs. Not

lis droning, did the

. Then he wcat to

Ider in his habitually

this day," said Peter,
,-, but a day o' afflec-
an leave me to my
ng in his voice, as
much as the roaster
ously continued his
lere he stood up and
er affected to ignore
i his company.

The day passed drearily with no sail in sight to afford a
hope of rescue. At night, as there was only a moderate
breeze, and no sea to speak of, and as the sky was clear, Peter
went below and slept till morning, for he had trustingly said:
"Take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow
shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the
day is the evil thereof."

The next morning was calm and foggy. A schooner
bound from Halifax to Boston lay in the mist flapping her
soggy sails in monotonous idleness. Presently every ear
caught a strange sound.

"What in the world can tliat be?" exclaimed the captain to
his first mate. "It sounds like some one trying to settle a
swarm of bees by beating on a big tin pan."

"It's a tin pan fast enough," said the mate, as the noise
increased in vehemence; "and I guess some skipper has lost his
fog-horn overboard and is using a tin pan for a fog signal.

Presently a lift in the mist disclosed the Lady of The Lake
not more than a dozen lengths distant. A bleached, sailless
vessel with only a white-headed old man on board beating a
tin pan with the energy of a drummer, was not a sight to reas-
sure the superstitious, and the common sailors on the Lucy
Ann were nearly paralyzed with fear at the appearance of the
apparently spectral schooner.

"What do you make of her, Legget?" asked the captain,
addressing his first mate, in an awe-stricken voice.

"I guess it's the old man of the sea," said the mate, laugh-
ing irreverently. "But rather than run the risk of neglecting
some one in distress, I reckon we'd better lower a boat and
board the craft. That old chap is making too much of a hulla-
baloo with that pan to be a regular fore-an'aft-ghost."

The mate had no sooner reached the deck than Peter, after

- i

n^M^msJeBi^

'fff

Ift

M !'

i >^m i i-" i

4 t !■■

;. t

' ,

278

AIR OASTLB DON

shaking hands with him in a very flesh-and-blood manner said
loquaciously: "The Lord be praised for his mercy to an old
finner. I heard the floppin' o' your sails, an' I said, 'How
shall we escape if we neglect so great salvation?' See Hebrews
second and third. I believed ye'd bin sent to deliver me frae
the sea, but wi' a' my might an' main I tried to make ye know
where I was by poundin' the pan. 'Faith without works is
dead,' ye ken. See James second and twentieth."

The sailor, who accompanied the mate, on hearing this kind
c^ speech, increased the distance between himself and Peter,
under the impression that he was a raving lunatic.

The mate, however, had met Scotchmen before, and several
times in his life ha 1 run against that particular type of Scot
that makes a Bible concordance of himself. Besides, having a
sly vein of humor, he thought he detected something of the
same kind sneaking under cover of the old man's piety. He
was confirmed in his suspicions when, on venting his mirth,
Peter laughed back at him in the sanest way imaginable, and
by way of forestalling enquiries, said :

"My name is Peter Piper, but I'm sometimes ca'd Peter
Pickles, or Peter Pepper, or Piping Peter, or Peter-Peter
Punkin-eater, accordin' to the workin' o' the wickedness o*
them that speak." And then, to the great amusement of the
mate, he went on to explain how he happened to be in such a
plight. "Ye'U ken the truth better gin ye'll go below an' take
a luik at our insides," he added at the end.

The long room extending from stem to stern, the pompous
desk, and plain chairs; the cooking and eating arrangements,
the moose-horn chandelier and tangle of other curiosities; the
ornamental roster and the pictures upon the walls, the long
table and numerous books; and, above all, the grotesque
assortment of theatrical garments and equipments hanging at

'.'''' ™-n.ff-^r^'- ■

,...«...

lood manner said
mercy to an old
an' I said, 'How
n?* See Hebrews
to deliver me frae
to make ye know
without works is
ieth."

1 hearing this kind
limself and Peter,
natic.

sefore, and several
ular type of Scot
Besides, having a
something of the
man's piety. He
venting his mirth,
ly imaginable, and

netimes ca'd Peter
er, or Peter-Peter
the wickedness o*
amusement of the
led to be in such a
1 go below an' take

stern, the pompous
ting arrangements,
:her curiosities; the
the walls, the long
all, the grotesque
ipments hanging at

AIR CASTLE DON

279

the far end of the room amazed Legget and appalled his more
superstitious shipmate.

The latter was more and more inclined to believe that The
Lady of The Lake and all her belongings boded no good to
any one who had the misfortune to be on board of her. Whilst
he was debating matters in his own mind, Donny, unnoticed
by him, came up behind, and, rejoicing in the addition to the
cabin company, gave a spring and ran up the sailor's body till
he reached the shoulder. The man was so terrified that he
uttered a shriek and started for the companionway ; nor did he
stop till rowing back to the Lucy Ann he informed the cap-
tain that the devil and all his imps had possession of the
strange craft.

After berating the man for his cowardice, the captain, tak-
ing with him a less superstitious sailor, boarded The Lady of
The Lake to investigate matters for himself. Legget was not
aware of the flight of his shipmate until he saw the captain and
the new man descending the companionway.

The explanations that followed, although unavoidably com-
plicated, eventually ended in an outburst of mirth, in which
Peter joined without restraint.

After making an examination of the vessel, the captain took
her in tow for Boston. She was to all intents and purposes a
derelict, and whatever she might be sold for, would be clear
gain for the trip of The Lucy Ann.

Peter remained on board and spent the time between meals
and prayers in making a cage for Donny, whose fortunes he
considered as linked to his own, and whose future he intended
to take care of to the best of his ability. He had sailed into
Boston several times in the course of hu life, though under
far diflferent circumstances. There were seven pieces of gold
sewed up in his clothes and having boarded at the Mariners*

i %

li.'' ," ' :'i'!!"'*""" " I ' "'w p >; 'i '-,"'"Ti. !

280

AIR CASTLE DON

Home several times he resolved to go there with the squirrel
imtil such times as he could decide upon his course. He knew
the number of Don's place of business and treasured it in his
memory as scrupulously as he did the chapter and verse of the
fragments of sacred writ with which he was in the habit of
interlarding his conversation.

One morning as Don was absorbed in his ledgers, all
unmindful of what was going on around him, a voice at his
elbow suddenly said : " 'The Lord be between thee and me for-
ever.* See first Samuel, twentieth chapter, twenty-third
verse."

There was no mistaking the voice, nor the well-known
peculiarity, much less the person, of Peter who, hat in hand,
stood with beaming face waiting for the recognition that he
knew would be warmly given.

"In the name of all goodness, Peter Piper, how did you
get here?" Don exclaimed, taking the old Scot by the hand and
giving him a country grip and shake.

"I cam' the greater part o' the way on The Lady of The
Lake; an' for the rest o' the distance, which was not great, I
cam' on my ain unnerstandin's. An' I'm sae daft to see ye
I'd be willin' to lam the names o' a' the descendents o' Shem,
Ham an' Japhet gin ye were to require it at my hands."

"I am so glad myself that I'll excuse you from that tough
task. But you do not really mean to tell me that The Lady
of The Lake has gone into the salt water business again?"

"Na, not exactly; but summat so, nevertheless; forasmuch
as I'm here, she fetcht me a' the way frae Barrington to
Boston. Ye'll ken a' about it gin ye'll read the marnin' papers
which I hae brought wi' me. *In the mouth of two or three
witnesses every word may be established.* See Matthew,
eighteen and sixteen."

■vn

' ' fy. w>yy-' '' - ' n''j

•rrrf

AIR CASTLE DON

281

with the squirrel
ourse. He knew
reasured it in his
r and verse of the
s in the habit of

J his ledgers, all
m, a voice at his
1 thee and me for-
•ter, twenty-third

r the well-known
who, hat in hand,
jcognition that he

iper, how did you
ot by the hand and

The Lady of The
h was not great, I
sae daft to see ye
icendents o' Shem,
[ my hands."
)u from that tough
me that The Lady
usiness again?"
•theless; forasmuch
"rae Harrington to
the marnin' papers
jth of two or three
d.' See Matthew,

Don laughed, for ordinarily Peter inveighed against the
secular press as the abomination of desolation spoken of in
Scripture, and this citation of papers as evidence of truth was
something new. There was, however, this reason for the
change in his sentiments. Nearly all the details published in
the morning papers concerning the arrival of The Lady of The
Lake were furnished to the reporters by Peter himself. The
account included Don's appearance as Grand Keyman upon
the roll of the mysterious club, as well as Peter's singular
experience in being blown to sea without any volitions of his
own. Having furnished the information, and much of It hav-
ing personal reference to himself, Peter waived his scruples
and purchased a copy of every morning paper in the city for
future reference. He now laid them before Don as the infal-
lible means of securing the knowledge he was so much inter-
ested in. The morning papers were already in the office, but
as yet had not been scanned.

Don read the accounts eagerly, and experienced some curi-
ous feelings when one of the reporters observed : "The arrival
of the weird little craft in the city where Don Donalds, its
former Grand Keyman, has become so well known, is a coinci-
dence that eclipses the inventions of fiction."

■;;

i;;^AiEj>iat«»fe^ta»t^a^--^s»<ti»»Baa3t>"<iB»B'ie^

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A BRBATHING SPELI..

Although Peter was always cleanly in his habits, he was not
particular as to the fashion of his garments which, when he
appeared before Don were a medley of patches and colors.
Don found it difficult to convince him that his wardrobe should
be changed to suit the latitude of Boston. When, however,
he gave him a suit of Scotch tweeds his natural prejudices
against the vanities of the world yielded to his national pride,
and he came out of the dressing room looking a score of years
younger than when he went in.

In the early evening, accompanied by Bert and guided by
Peter, Don boarded the derelict which lay alongside the Lucy
Ann at the head of Long Wharf. The first thing he did on
entering the cabin was to sit down in The Grand Potentate's
chair of office and give himself up to the feelings of mingled
sadness and satisfaction that came upon him like a flood.

"The things we once ran after are difficult to run away
from," he said to Bert, musingly. "In one form or another
they come back into our lives so vividly that the past seems
to be far more real than the present. I wonder if the future
will fill up as fast with the ghosts of the present, as the present
does with the ghosts of the past."

In explanation of both his meaning and his sentiments he
went on and gave the history of the principal objects in the
cabin and of their association with episodes in his boyish life.

(282)

■ ■r^tatiiii

f ■ ' ijlf^fi ' W 'l '.i '.>'y ,11 '

is habits, he was not
Its which, when he
patches and colors.
his wardrobe should
I. When, however,
5 natural prejudices
his national pride,
cing a score of years

Bert and guided by
r alongside the Lucy
iirst thing he did on
le Grand Potentate's
; feelings of mingled
lim like a flood,
iifficult to run away
one form or another
r that the past seems
wonder if the future
•resent, as the present

md his sentiments he
incipal objects in the
,des in his boyish life.

AIR CASTLE DON

283

Bert )istened to him with keen curiosity, but the grizzly old
Peter listened with a sympathy quickened and deepened by the
recollections of his own far-away boyhood. And then, think-
ing of his interviews with Sir Walter Scott upon "The brown
hillside" he suddenly bethought him of the words he had
quoted to Don under the apple blossoms, when he found him
poring over the great romancist's air castles. Kci remembered
the remainder of the quotation and with his heart exp nding
toward the lads before him, he suddenly startled them by
pathetically reciting these words in unbroken English :

"Ah, happy boys! such feelings pure,
They will not, cannot, long endure;
Condemned to stem the world's rude tide,
You may not linger by the side;
For Fate shall thrust you from the shore,
And passion ply the sail and oar.
Yet cherish the remembrance still,
Of the lone mountain and the rill ;
F"or trust, dear boys, the time will come,
When fiercer transports shall be dumb.
And you will think right frequently,
But, well, I hope, without a sigh,
On the free hours that we have spent
Together on the brown hill's bent."

Don was affected almost to tears by the words and no less
by Peter's manner in reciting them, while Bert, choking with
undefinable emotions, to relieve himself, turned and stood
before Barry's painting of the frightened purser of the man-of-
war, referred to in the earlier pages of this narrative. Don
explained the picture but, although the story of The Cemetery
Ghosts of Port Latour was so amusing, in itself considered, it
somehow forced him to keep in mind the other kind of ghosts
he had just been thinking of so pensively, and which had been
so vividly reinforced by Peter's quotation.

•r

!„-Mih

L ,jlj"i "ift'iT'tiiiitTnr'riwffiiinnwMiSiiTW'r'i i '"if"i"["TiiTrT'Tiii~TiBn — ^f>^.'K^^s^it^»jif»iiHm M-T!< < mAi ^ T^tm s*Bt\Hs KJ!iaMM i ui 'm

SBC

fUf ' . ' 'iv n

***^TWfj

284

AIR CASTLE DON

.»■• I

■s' (

■Ki:

I -^i

At this moment Wilhelm and Werner Vonberg descended
the companionway, followed by the captain and owner of The
Lucy Ann. The brothers having become greatly interested in
the story of The Lady of The Lake given in the papers, and
supplemented by Don and Peter's accounts during the earlier
part of the day, had agreed to meet Don on board in the
evening.

Like their namesakes in Goethe's great story of Wilhelm
Meister, they had a taste for art and immediately became
absorbed in Barry's painting, which, instead of having been
carelessly executed because designed for boys, was painted
with the characteristic skill of that famous artist, whose name
was not unfamiliar to the Vonberg brothers.

The young men were also amat^eur sailors, passionately
fond of the sea and sea sports, and their vacations were invar-
iably spent in the vicinity of or upon the sea. The origin,
history, size and shape of The Lady of The Lake appealed so
strongly to their fancy that, on learning that the captain pro-
posed to sell her with all her belongings, including the picture,
for four hundred dollars, they gave him a check for that
amount. They said to Don afterward that they would
willingly have paid that sum for the picture alone, and that if
they so desired they could sell it at a price far in advance of
that amount.

The vessel was sent to dock and on being thoroughly
inspected, was discovered to be in a much better condition than
was imagined, having been built of selected oak throughout.
In less than a month she was again afloat, copper bottomed
and so transformed inside and out that she was the admiration
of all who saw her. The rake of her new masts, the set of her
sails, the completeness of her rigging,, the curve of her lines,
the beauty of her figure-head, the sharpness of her cutwater all

"^ifffmm

mmr

^^^r^ • m'^ H n il m i^i i i

AIll CABTLE DON

285

[onberg descended
land owner of The
reatly interested in
|in the papers, and
during the earlier
on board in the

story of Wilhelm
imediately became
ad of having been
boys, was painted
artist, whose name
rs.

ailors, passionately
icatlons were invar-
e sea. The origin,
le Lake appealed so
liat the captain pro-
icluding the picture,
1 a check for that
that they would
re alone, and that if
:e far in advance of

I being thoroughly
tetter condition than
ed oak throughout.
t, copper bottomed

was the admiration
masts, the set of her

curve of her lines,
s of her cutwater all

combined to give her the "saucy" appearance which sailors
delight to recognize.

Barry's picture occupied the place of honor in the cabin,
and everything of the former furnishings that could be utilized
for oddity or convenience was retained. Even the roster of
the old club as rcframed and glazed and hung where its
elaborate penmanship and mighty titles could be seen to the
best advantage.

The vacation season was now at hand, and the Vonberg
brothers were keenly anticipating what they called their annual
breathing spell, and all the mere keenly, because in preparing
for their own pleasure they had intended to share it with others.

When "Old Glory" was flung to the breeze announcing
that The Lady of The Lake was ready to begin her voyage
along the coast, she had the following persons on board: For
Captain and Sailing Master, Abner Small, an experienced
sailor and coaster; for Mate, Wilhelm Vonberg; for Sailors
before the Mast, Werner Vonberg and Don Donalds; for
Landlubber and Roustabout, Bert Williams; for Steward and
Cook, Peter Piper, with his squirrel; and for passengers and
guests, Dorothy Vonberg and Nora Williams, two canaries
and a maltese kitten.

When The Lady went down the harbor before a fair breeze
with all sails set, and with everybody on deck, Don, who could
not conceal his happiness, said to Piper: "Well, Peter, what
do you think of this for a shakeup and a turnabout?"

"I hae been thinkin' o' my sins an' transgressions," said he,
contritely. And then he added significantly by way of explan-
ation : "I hae been a murmerin' piper a' my days, an' pickled
peppers hae been my diet frae marnin' till night, an' frae Janu-
ary to July. The past hae been my god, an' the present my
fear an* torment. To-day I'm that happy I feel sorry for my

.;syKaaSK^?i<:i

286

AIR CA8TI.H DON

sins. For why? The sound o' the waters an' the voice o' the
wind arc sayin' in my cars, 'Say not thou, what is the cause
that the former days were better tlian these? for thou dost not
inquire wisely concerning this.' See Ecclesiastes, seven and
ten."

"That isa confession which ought to clear your soul," said
Don, smiling rcsponsivcl> at the grim humor with which the
Scot chastised himself.

When The Lady made the offing and laid her course across
the bay for Cape Cod. the rougher water drove Nora below
laboring under sensations she hatl never experienced before.

"It is only sea sickness, my dear," said Dorothy, who, hav-
ing been on the water many times before, was not affected.
"It will not last long — a day perhaps, and then you will be as
well salted as I am."

There arc no consolations that can reach a seasick person,
and Nora felt as if Dorothy's "only" was adding insult to
injury. As she sank deeper and deeper into the slough of
despond she provoked Bert's laughter by faintly saying: "Oh,
Bert, I do wish that Miss Agincourt was in my place; she'd
get paid up for all her ugliness toward Don and everybody else
that she doesn't like. What have I done that I should be so
wretched? Why doesn't Don come down to see me?"

"I guess you are being punished for being so spiteful
against Miss Agincorrt. Don can't come down just now; he
is taking his watch on deck and his trick at the ;vheel "

"What does he have to carry his watch on deck for, and
why does he meddle with its wheel? What kind of a trick is
he playing it? What will Professor Krasinski say if he knows
that he is tricking that gold watch he gave him?"

"You have swallowed a convention question box; I don't

' the voice o' the
M^hat is the cause

or thou dost not
iastes, seven and

your soul," said
)r with which the

her course across
Irove Nora below
cperienccd before,
orothy, who, hav-

was not affected,
len you will be as

1 a seasick person,

> adding insult to
nto the slough of
itly saying: "Oh,
n my place; she'd
ind everybody else
liat I should be so

> see me?"

being so spiteful
lown just now; he
the ivheel "
1 on deck for, and
t kind of a trick is
iki say if he knows
him?"
stion box; I don't

AIR CASTLE DON

.f WW "

■Tfw

287

wonder yuu feel so badly. Hadn't I better get you something
else to eat?"

"Oh, Bert, I shi.ll never cat again! Why doesn't some-
body sympathize with me? It will be awful if you have to
throw me overboard. Can't you stop the vessel and put me
ashore and save my life?"

In five hours from that time Gipsy was on deck laughing
at herself as mirrored by Bert, who repeated her questions and
despairing tones and manner without mercy, and all the more
relentlessly because he himself was as much exempted from
sea sickness as if he had been born on the ocean wave.

It was not the intention of the voyagers to remain at sea
over night, and toward evening they ran into Plymouth. The
next morning they visited Plymouth Rock and waxed enthusi-
astic over the Pilgrim Fathers.

Suddenly Gipsy asked: "How do they know that this is
the rock on which the Pilgrims landed?"

"Oh, get out!" exclaimed Bert indignantly. "Don't ask
questions about things that have been settled for all time. '

"Well, I want to know how it was settled that this is the
very rock," she persisted.

Werner Vonberg, who was well acquainted with colonial
history, said: "It is a reasonable question, that should be rea-
sonably answered. In 1741 the Pilgrim Sons had so little
enthusiasm or so little faith about this spot that they were
going to build a wharf over the rock. An old man by the
name of Faunce, who was in his ninety-iifth year, hearing of
the proposal, caused himself to be brought three miles in a
chair and placed upon the rock. He shed tears upon it and
gave his benediction to it as he bade farewell to it. There
were many witnesses of the scene, and he assured them that his
father had again and again declared that this was the very place

288

AIR OABTLE DON

where the Pilfjrims landed. His words had so much weight
that the people forbade the building of the wharf. They
renienibrrod that every year Elder Taunce was in the habit of
celebrating; the ainiiversary of the landing by placing his chil-
dren and grandchildren on the rock and conversing with them
about their forefathers. And hence, after the old man's last
visit, they determined that they would celebrate Forefathers'
Day with all the pomp and ceremony they could muster."

"Ilow many children and grandchildren did the old man
have?" asked Nora, glancing at the rock and trying to calculate
how many could stand upon it at one time.

"I don't know," Werner replied, laughing in spite of the
gravity of the subject.

"Well, how did the old man know that this was the very
rock?" she asked again. "Was he one of the fathers, and did
he see them land?"

"Of course not, you ninny I" exclaimed Bert.

"No, he was not one of the Pilgrims," said Werner; "but
it is said that his father knew some of the Pilgrims, and they
told the story of the landing. So, you see that Faunce had it
quite direct."

"Then we can't swear by the rock for a certainty?"

"No; not for a certainty."

"That's perfectly dreadful! Why didn't the Pilgrims cut
something into the rock to let us know that they landed here?"

"I guess they were too busy about other things to think of
that," said Werner, with assumed seriousness.

"Let us go somewhere else; I don't believe that anybody
knows where the Pilgrims landed, and we are humbugged
about this rock right straight along, so that people can cover
up their ignorance."

"Say the Pilgrims didn't land at all, and done with it,"

d so much weight
the wharf. They
\&i in the habit of
»y placing his chil-
ivcrsing with them
the old man's last
:brate Forefathers'
could muster."
n did the old man
I trying to calculate

ing in spite of the

t this was the very
the fathers, and did

Bert.

said Werner; "but
Pilgrims, and they
that Faunce had it

I certainty?"

I't the Pilgrims cut

t they landed here?"

;r things to think of

ess.

elieve that anybody

we are humbugged

lat people can cover

and done with it,"

Allt 0A8TLB DON

289

interrupted Bert with impatience. "History has to begin
somewhere, and the history of The Pilgrim Fathers must begin
with this rock." Then, after a short pause, f xling as if he had
swamped all his confidence in mere tradition, and to cover his
retreat he added: "Let's go to Watson's Hill."

"We wov.ld better go to Burying Hill first," suggested
Werner 'that is near here, and we know for a certainty that
many of the Pilgrims were buried there."

The celebrated cemetery lay directly back of the town; and
after ascending about one hundred and sixty feet, they stood
where so many of the Pilgrims were buried during the first
year after their landing.

Seeing that Don walked among the ancient gravestones
with his hat oflf, and believing that she was really walking over
the ground beneath which reposed the dust of the venerated
dead, Gipsy mused in silence. But when, after a long walk,
they reached Watson's Hill, and she was told that there the
first Indian Treaty was made, she again voiced her curiosity.
"Are they any surer of this place than they were of Ply-
mouth Rock?" she asked, quite humbly.

"Oh, yes," Werner responded, confidently. "Plymouth
Rock is settled by tradition only, but this is settled by record.
Miles Standish met King Massasoit down by that brook you
see over yonder, and brought him up here to Governor Carver.
After the white man kissed the red man, they drank, as it is
said, 'copious draughts of strong water, and then made the
treaty.' "

"Did they get the strong water from that brook down
there? And what made it strong? Was there anything dead
in it?"

"Don't you know what strong water is?" asked Werner,

-rr-

iJi.i. I nuia

290

\m CASTLE DON

turning on hov with the suspicion that she was trifling with
him for her own amusement.

"No, I do not. I have lived in Boston so long I am awfully
ignorant. I am going to try and learn something while I am
out on this trip."

"I beg your pardon, Gipsy. Strong water in plain lang-
uage means rum," said Werner, with nuich misgiving.

"Rum! Do you mean to tell nic that the Pilgrim Fathers
drank rum?" she asked, her face the picture of surprise and
horror,

"Yes, in considerable quantities. They landed before
Father Matthew got here, you remember. And on this very
hill they gave rum to King Massasoit in such big doses that,
as the books say, 'he sweat a long time after.' "

"What (lid they want to make him sweat for?"

"Well, you know that the Pilgrims were weak, and the
Indians were strong. And probably the Pilgrims wanted the
Indians to understand that if they did the Pilgrims any harm
they would make them sweat for it worse than the rum did.
The books say that when the Pilgrims first landed, they fell on
their knees and then they fell on the aborigines."

"What did they fall from? And how did the Indians hap-
pen tc be under them when the Pilgrims fell?"

" Werner looked at Gipsy in amazement, but her seriousness
was so transparent that checking his risibilities, he replied:
"The historians mean that when the Pilgrims landed, they gave
thanks to God for their safety and then began to fight the
Indians to get possession of their land.

"Then they were robbers as well as rum-drinkers in spite
of all their thanksgiving and prayers, weren't they?"

"Oh, no; they were the founds, j of a great nation."

"It's a pity we were not founded by somebody else. I don't

was trifling with

long I am awfully
lething while I am

Iter in plain lang-
misgiving.
le Pilgrim Fathers
ire of surprise and

ley landed before
And on this very

uch big doses that,

> >>

It for?"

rere weak, and the
'ilgrims wanted the
Pilgrims any harm
; than the rum did.

landed, they fell on
ines."

lid the Indians hap-
11?"

, but her seriousness
iibilities, he replied:
Tis landed, they gave

began to figiit the

um-drinkers in spite
:n't they?"
jreat nation."
nebody else. I don't

• ' ' , ' -\m~ ' " '' ,'"'""'^u f l !ff^ifllfnf>' !^" WKi>r"fK ' ^i,M'^':.-'ir>\v,.i

AIR CASTLE DON

-,*.

1 ' ■ . » >,» i s>f B pw ' !.iii

want to hear any more about the Pilgrim Fathers, nor Ply-
mouth Rock, either. I am sorry we came here. Does all
history pan out in this way?"

"Gipsy," said Bert, severely, "there is no use in trying to
give you any information. You make a hanging noose of
every piece of rope that is thrown to you. I am glad that
there is only one of you in the family. If there was another
sister like you, there wouldn't be enough of me left to be a
brother to either. If you ever get married, you will hang
your husband on interrogation points just as a butcher hangs
meat upon shop-hooks. You ought to be ashamed of yourself
for going back upon the Pilgrim Fathers, and v/hat is more,
you ought to know that it is the deadliest heresy to say any-
thing against them. If Father Taylor knew that you w^ere
doing such a thing, he would discipline you as soon as you got
home."

Dorothy had listened to the whole conversation, and
although she was amused by Gipsy's simplicity, she respected
her sincerity and came to her defence against her brother by
saying: "Gipsy does right in thinking for herself. If there
were more like her, there would be less chafif mixed with our
wheat. If our forefathers had had her for one of their for«;-
mothers, that old Chief Sachem Massasoit would never have
been asked to sell his birthright and the birthright of all his
people for a mess of — rum."

"You see that my only sister is a good deal like your own,
Bert," said Werner, shrugging his shoulders. "To save our-
selves from getting into any more trouble about the Pilgrims,
we had better go on board and set sail for Provincetown, for
although the Pilgrims really made their first landing at Truro,
we'll find no trace of them at that end of the Cape."

"There!" exclaimed Gipsy, "what do you say to that, Bert?

I's^'t

-j.^." a=

•<!<w«i>il

292

AIR GASTLE DON

■I ;

What do you say to Plymouth Rock now? Werner knows all
about it. Truro is the place."

"But they didn't land at Truro to make a settlement; they
landed there to give the women a chance to wash their clothes.
They meant all the while to settle on the Hudson River," said
Werner. "It was at Truro where their first governor, William
Bradford, stepped upon an Indian deer trap and was caught
by the leg and flung into the air by a bent sapling."

"Is the tree still there?" asked Gipsy, sarcastically.

"And can they point out the very place where they had
their washing done?" asked Dorothy, coming to Gipsy's help.
"We didn't get any pieces of Plymouth Rock, nor any other
mementoes of the Pilgrim Fathers; but if we went to Truro
we might pick up some fragments of soap left by our fore-
mothers, for women who wash almost always throw away their
soap with their suds. Did they use hard or soft soap?"

"They must have soft-soaped the Indians or they never
would have been allowed to land with their rum-drinking hus-
bands," remarked Gipsy. "Why didn't the Mayflower go up
the Hudson as she originally intended? If the Pilgrims had
gone there, we Massachusetts people would have been saved
a good deal of humbugging."

"The Indians on the Hudson were too numerous and
healthy. Here they were greatly reduced in numbers by sick-
ness and plagues, which, the Pilgrims said, had been sent by
Providence to make way for them. They settled here to keep
from flying in the face of Providence," and Werner spoke as
gravely as a professor. He went on to say : "We might drop
into Truro on the way down to Provincetown. The Pilgrims I
called it Cold Harbor, because at that time the Pamet River
was full of ice. It was there they found three baskets of wheat,

Wernci- knows all

a settlement; they
wash their clothes,
ludson River," said
t governor, William
■?p and was caught
sapling." ' './■'
arcastically.
ace where they had
ling to Gipsy's help,
iock, nor any other
if we went to Truro
lap left by our fore-
ays throw away their
or soft soap?"
idians or they never
:ir rum-drinking hus-
the Mayflower go up
If the Pilgrims had
)uld have been saved

; too numerous and
d in numbers by sick-
aid, had been sent by
y settled here to keep
and Werner spoke as
ay: "We might drop
etown. The Pilgrims
time the Pamet River
:hree baskets of wheat.

AIR CASTLE DON

293

a bottle of oil and a bag of beans buried under one of the sand-
heaps."

"Then Boston isn't the inventor of baked beans!" exclaimed
Gipsy, with a look of disappointment. "Did they use the oil
instead of pork? And did they always bake them for their
Sunday dinners as we do? If the Pilgrims found a bag of
beans, couldn't we find a pot of beans under the same sand-
hills and find out whether the Indians used oil or pork to bake
with them?"

"There is no telling what is hidden under those sand-hills,"
said Wilhelm. "In levelling one of them not long ago the
laborers found a lot of ice which gave evidence of having been
buried under the sand a great many years. If the Indians used
beans as we Boston people do, I see no reason why they should
not have had ice cream also. And as they had no cows to give
cream, they probably used cod-liver oil instead. But it is time
for us to go on board again."

'Sxiii

ill .

if!-

i - i . 1^ 1. : > ,. < ) 1 ^ I

CHAPTER XXIX.

AN SNI.ARGEMBNT OP THB H9ART.

When they reached the offing the wind was strong and
gusty, and there was considerable sea running, yet, under
single reefs, The Lady shook her head at the water and kept
her decks as dry as an oven. When off Provincetov/n the
wind veered ahead and while they were beating into port, they
made their tacks in a rainstorm and in the company of scores
of vessels that were also seeking a harbor fcr the night or till
such time as they could double the Cape with safety.

When they arose in the morning the capacious harbor was
a forest of masts, and the dark hulls presented a view of almost
every kind of shipping, from small craft like The Lady, up to
the majest'c full-rigged ships whose complicated rigging and
numerous, spars and yardarms formed a dark network against
the dull leaden sky. The low dunes on shore punctuated a
landscape that was so sandy and destitute of vegetation that
Nora said it was as bald-headed as William Lloyd Garrison.

"What can they raise in such a place as that?" she asked
contemptuously.

"Church steeples and school towers, as you can see for
yourself," said Werner," and brainy men and women capable
of making their way in any part of the world. The landscape
may be bald, as you say, but the minds of the people who live
here are not; they are as fruitful of ideas as Garrison's
intellect."

(294)

r t

ir'^^/;;<.^^'^'ci^.-:H^-^'^=:5A'''«.'riy'ic^v'-

^--:iS^

AIR CASTLE DON

295

SART.

d was strong and
inning, yet, under
the water and kept

Provincetov/n the
ting into port, they

company of scores
kr the night or till
vith safety,
pacious harbor was
ted a view of almost
ke The Lady, up to
)licated rigging and
ark network against
shore punctuated a
e of vegetation that
am Lloyd Garrison,
as that?" she asked

as you can see for

and women capable

)rld. The landscape

the people who live

ideas as Garrison's

"Were you born here?" she asked again.

"Why, no. What made you think that?"

"Because you know so mucli."

"I was born in Boston."

"So was I ; but I might as well have been born in Africa, I
am so ignorant; ignorant even of the very State in which 1
live."

"Yet you are picking up so rapidly that by, the time you
get to be as venerable as I, you will know vastly more than
I do."

"How old are you?"

"I dare not tell you, lest you should begin to ask me to give
you some personal recollections of Noah and his family. You
know that one's age is not to be reckoned from the day he was
born, but from the things he has learned. To tell the truth, 1
feel as though I had lived on this old globe several thousand
years."

"That is because you read so much history. Don says
your library is full of historical books. I should think it would
make any one feel old to be reading about dead people so
much. But aren't you going to let us go on shore this
morning?"

"Yes; the boat is alongside now waiting for us. You must
take oflf those slippers, and put on high shoes, for the sand is
deep in Provincetown."

When they landed they walked on creaking plank side-
walks, and over crossings of sand-drifts. It was grit, grit
everywhere. Yet there were handsome houses in the scatter-
ing town, and public buildings that would not have been out of
place in Boston. The people whom they met instead of
appearing as though they had rusted because of their isolation
and constant exposure to salt air, looked as though they had

;^imi(.-

296

AIR OASTLB DON

used the sand about them to keep themselves burnished to the
highest degree. Indeed, what with their own seamen who
sailed unto the uttermost parts of the earth, and the shipping
that came into their port from all parts of the world, they were
all as wide-awake as if they had done nothing but sail the seas
from the beginning of their existence. And the smallest
urchin who stood on the street corner, if spoken to, was more
than likely to reply in nautical terms full of allusions to ship-
ping and to the ends of the earth as well. The seafaring men
who waddled through the sandy thoroughfares in great num-
bers, with the free manners of high spirits, added to the wide-
awake appearance of the population.

"Why should people want to settle in such a place as this?"
asked Dorothy, glancing discontentedly over the sandy land-
scape.

"Cape Cod was built in the ocean to give Massachusetts a
handy place to fish from, and there were some people in the
olden times who had sense enough to appreciate what had been
done for them. Here, they are in the very midst of codfish-
dom and whaledom, not to say anything of the smaller fry that
can be tossed from the water upon the gridiron or into the
frying pan whenever they are wanted. Breathing so much salt
air, eating so much fish and smelling so many fishy odors are
among the things that have made the people so brainy and
intellectual.

"To keep the ministers up to the proper intellectual stand-
ard, they used to pay the greater part of their salary in fish,
and to increase their faith in Providence, they were allowed a
part of every whale that came on shore. If one of these big
fish happened to come ashore on Sunday during sermon time,
the minister didn't stop to pronounce the benediction, but ran

■iBsa

AIR OASTLB DON

297

burnished to the
own seamen who
and the shipping
world, they were
g but sail the seas
And the smallest
oken to, was more
■ allusions to ship-
The seafaring men
ires in great num-
added to the wide-

ch a place as this?"
'er the sandy land-

ve Massachusetts a
some people in the
ciate what had been
•y midst of codfish-
the smaller fry that
gridiron or into the
sathing so much salt
lany fishy odors are
lople so brainy and

IV intellectual stand-
their salary in fish,
they were allowed a
If one of these big
during sermon time,
benediction, but ran

a race with the congregation to the water-side to make sure of
getting what the Lord had sent for their benefit."

"1 don'i believe it!" exclaimed Gipsy, very bluntly, for she
was set for the defence of the ministry.

"I know that it seems like a whaling big story, but it is set
down in the books, and what is in the books cannot be disbe-
lieved without committing heresy. There is an old minister
living he;:e now who, in his preaching days, was pastor of the
Congregational Church. One Sunday when he had just
reached the sixth of the fourteen heads of his sermon, a man
rushed to the door and shouted that a whale had grounded on
the south shore. The minister said, 'Beloved, let us make sure
of the whale now, the remainder of the sermon is so well
pickled it will keep for another time.' ' .

"They got large quantities of oil from that whale's blubber,
and the preacher was so well satisfied with his share that the
following Sunday, instead of giving them the other eight heads
of the interrupted sermon, he gave them a spick-span new one
directly out of his own head upon the text, 'They shall suck of
the abundance of the seas, and of the treasures hid in the
sands.' He described all the kinds of fish that swim about
Cape Cod, and all the varieties of clams that are hid in the
sands and mud-fjats. Being very fond of clam chowder, he
was especially eloquent, while preaching, concerning the treas-
ures hid in the sand. Nevertheless two of his deacons com-
plained that the sermon was two hours longer than it needed
to have been, and they said it smacked so strongly of fish and
clams, that it made them feel fishy and clammy all over. They
thought the church ought to have a pastor who knew more
about the New Jerusalem than he did about Cape Cod, and
they tried to get up a faction that would assist them in securing
a more spiritually minded minister. Notwithstanding the dea-

wmh im m a i t t^ tMA mn Ml^m

mmm

mtm

298

AIR OASTLB DON

1 !

cons' pious efforts, the preacher remained pastor thirty years
after the death of one of them and twenty-two years after the
death of the other. And he is now maintaining a vigorous ohi
age upon the remembrance of his triumph over the rams of his
flock."

"Did he get rich off of the dead whales that came on shore
on Sunday?" asked Gipsy, with great interest.

"Not very; if we may judge from the looks of his cottage
where he now lives with his wife, and which we passed on our
way up."

"I^et's come ashore to-night ?.nd serenade him?" suggested
Dorothy, with lively sympathy. "A preacher that can survive
two contrary deacons as long as he did, ought to be noticed."

The suggestion was adopted with enthusiasm, but its scope
was much enlarged. They were all good singers, and music
was one of their chief divertisements. The evening was clear
and still, and a high full moon encouraged their purpose. The
actors' wardrobe still remained on board of The Lady. After
dressing themselves in the most grotesque robings, they could
find, they rowed among the fleet, where their songs were
received with round after round of cheers. The tars that were
not members of secret fraternities supposed they were being
serenaded by a delegation of Masons or Odd Fellows from the
shore. The tinsel of the robes glittered so brightly in the
moonlight that the ornaments were supposed to be of silver
and gold, while the cut glass jewels were taken for gems of
the first water.

On landing, they were followed by a crowd to the old min-
ister's cottage. Two of their songs were merry, two senti-
mental and the other two, solemn. Don presented the old
pastor with ten dollars from his trust fund, and the Vonberg
brothers added twenty more from their private purse. The

»awg|gmq>aw>Mw ' i fc'j

'.r^. ,!K-:g»j»t'«

<S^

AIR CASTLE DON

299

aslor thirty years
vo years after the
ng a vigorous old
er the rams of his

liat came on shore

est.

loks of his cottage

I we passed on our

le him?" suggested
er that can survive
ght to be noticed."
iiasm, but its scope
singers, and music
; evening was clear
heir purpose. The
f The Lady. After
robings, they could
: their songs were

The tars that were
ed they were being
dd Fellows from the

so brightly in the
osed to be of silver
e taken for gems of

rowd to the old min-
•e merry, two senti-
in presented the old
id, and the Vonberg
private purse. The

recipient of their generosity was so moved that he felt himself
under obligations to say something adequately appreciative of
their courtesies. He said that he was so deaf he could not
hear nv.ich of their singing, but he had sight enough left to be
much edified by their brilliant appearance, and there was life
enough left in his heart to enable him to feel profoundly grate-
ful to them for their unexpected kindness toward him. Then
in a half humorous, half pathetic way, he concluded by saying
that, although he had nothing in the house to offer them by
way of a collation, he could at least dismiss them with the best
of bis pulpit benedictions. He accordingly pronounced the
longest one he could remember.

The next morning there was a ringing chorus of yo-heavos,
a resounding clatter of chain-cables and a magnificent flutter-
ing of white canvas, when the fleet of ninety-three vessels of
all shapes and sizes made ready to round the Cape. Although
they all left within a short time of each other, the differences
in their speed soon scattered them into a long line upon the
ocean blue. The Lady of The Lake proved to be the smallest,
swiftest and proudest vessel of the whole fleet. Captain Small
was so elated by the way she showed her heels and took the
lead, that he ordered up every inch of bunting she possessed.
At noon he left the other vessels and laid his course toward a
low blue island that is about thirty miles from the mainland.

"What country is that?" asked Gipsy, when the steeples and
houses began to loom against the sky.

"That isn't any country at all," replied Werner; "that is
Nantucket. Have you never heard of it before?"

"Nantucket! Why, that is my father's birth place!" she
exclaimed with delight. "I would rather go there than to go
to Jeru-salem. And I would rather have been born there than
in Boston."

!%*

^-iSj' i^^aaibi^H-

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twfBMfWWl illi^li

800

AIR OASTLB DON

"Why?" asked Werner, with interest.

"Because — Oh, because; you know!" she replied flounder-
ingly.

"Because it is so far removed from the mainland and its
hypocrisies and follies that its distance lends enchantment to
the view?" said Werner, coming to her relief.

"Of course, that's it exactly!" she retorted sarcastically.

The celebrated old whaling town was not at that time the
busy place it had formerly been, nor was it yet the fashionable
resort it was destined to become. It seemed to be in the last
stages of abandonment and decay. Costly and attractive
houses- were sold for a mere song, and not a few of them were
being removed piecemeal to the mainland. Old whaling ships
saturated with oil and redolent of blubber and scraps — ships
that had voyaged to the far Pacific and had made comfortable
fortunes for their former owners, were now ignobly rotting at
their docks. Warehouses and stores that were once packed
with goods of great value were given up to the reign of rats
and mice. Arrivals, once so numerous, were now so seldom
witnessed that when The Lady of "^he Lake crossed the historic
sandbar and tied up to the dock, half the juveniles of the town
rushed pell mell to see her. Not a few of the older people of
both sexes trailed down after them and in their quaintly quiet
way, welcomed the visitors to their "island home." On its
becoming known that Gipsy and her brother were of island
stock, all the Williamses on the island claimed relationship,
and thenceforth the latchstring was out to the whole party to
go and come as they pleased. Receptions followed in such
swift succession that it became a relief to the young people to
get on board again. But these receptions must not be con-
founded with the functions that pass under the same name in
the later phases of society. Our receptions are occasions on

"W^^

AlH CASTLE DON

801

replied flounder-

nainland and its
enchantment to

sarcastically,
at that time the
;t the fashionable
to be in the last
y and attractive
few of them were
)ld whaling ships
nd scraps — ships
nade comfortable
gnobly rotting at
fere once packed
the reign of rats
e now so seldom
•ossed the historic
iniles of the town
le older people of
eir quaintly quiet
home." On its
er were of island
med relationship,
le whole party to
followed in such
: young people to
must not be con-
the same name in
are occasions on

which people promiscuously "gather, gabble, giggle, gobble
and git." They are a sort of annual washing in which the
guests allow the hostess to make use of them as the soap by
which she washes her hands of her annual social obligations.
After "the social event" she goes to bed so much fatigued that,
like other washer-women, she dreams the whole night long of
washing-boards and suds, and is haunted by the fear lest the
clothes-line should show a deficiency in the final listing. An
old-time Nantucket reception was characterized by the grace
of cordiality, the refinement of sincerity, the charm of simplic-
ity and the spontaneousness of nature. It was a spring bub-
bling from the heart and not a system of Holly water works by
which courtesy is forced through the iron or leaden pipes of
fashionable customs.

Even the quakers, those saints in drab, whose ancestors
were whipped at the tails of the carts of our forefathers for
choosing to serve God in their own way, did all they could to
add pleasure to the stay of the young visitors.

Bert, who was a good violinist, went into a shop of one of
these quaint folk and enquired for a piece of rosin. "Not a
very large piece," he said, "for I only want to rosin my fiddle-
bow."

"Thy fiddle-bow!" exclaimed the quaker shop-keeper, with
hesitation if not displeasure. "I cannot sell thee rosin for such
a purpose. But there it is," he smilingly added as he placed a
conveniently sized piece upon the counter; "if thee chosest to
take it for nothing, thee will be welcome to the responsibility."

"It was the most delicate way of getting around an incon-
veniently conscientious corner I ever heard of," said Bert,
relating the incident when he returned to The Lady. "And
he looked at me so slyly from his great eyes, that I had to put
my hand to my mouth to keep from giggling in his face. He

imi-imsatsamsmMmsiiai^msmaaimsimsi.

Vi -t" '

^sxwmmtmi^

802

AIR CASTLE DON

said 'come again' in such a kindly way that I wanted to sit
down and liavc a long chat with him. I wonder what he
would say if he were to hear me scraping off some of those jig
tunes I play. Gipsy comes at me like a porcupine when I
'ny them. He prohahly would rebuke me solemnly with his
mouth, and at the same time laugh at nic with his eyes."

An old song which relates the experiences of two young
lovers says: "They loved one another for they'd nothing else
to do." Perhaps a somewhat similar reason accounted for the
abounding hospitality of the old time Nantucketer, There
seemed to be nothing else to do in the way of employment or
amusement, and hence, for the benefit of the young visitors,
there were clam-bakes and chowders, codfish frys and bluchsh
feasts, catboat trips along the shores, and horsecart excursions
upon the moors and to the wild surf beach at seven mile
Sconset. Curiosities and bric-a-brac, shells and whale-teeth
were given to the guests in such generous profusion that the
cabin of The Lady of the Lake looked like a small museum.
Alas for the sad transformations wrought by time and civil-
ization. There is a new generation at Nantucket now. A
change has come over the spirit of its dreams since it became
a watering place and a resort for city people. A stranger
happening upon its shores now is charged a nickel for a yes or
no, a dime for a direction of any kind, a quarter for a step or
two of guidance, a half dollar for the lifting of a trunk, a dollar
for an hour of time, and the portable curiosities that are exhib-
ited for sale are held at church-fair prices. Go to Nantucket
if you want to see something new — or rather, something old —
under the sun, but ^o prepared to be estimated by the fatness
of your pocket book and by the amount of squeezing you can
undergo. The ancient glory of Nantucket has gone the way
of all the e.Tth.

I wanted to sit

wonder what he

some of tliosc jig

jorcupinc when I

lOlcmnly with his

th his eyes."

CCS of two young

hey'd nothing else

accounted for the

ntuckcter. There

of employment or

he young visitors,

h frys and bUtcfish

jrsecart excursions

ach at seven mile

Is and whale-teeth

profusion that the

e a small museum.

It by time and civil-

lantucket now. A

ms since it became

cople, A stranger

1 nickel for a yes or

uarter for a step or

of a trunk, a dollar

ities that are exhib-

Go to Nantucket

er, something old —

iiated by the fatness

[ squeezing you can

t has gone the way

AIR 0A8TLB DON

808

It was in vain that tlie Vonhergs protested tliat they were
only clothiers, and that Don told them he lived in an attic, and
that Hert avowed that his mother kept a boarding house, and
that the attention they were receiving was altogether dispro-
portionate to their rank and circumstances. They were well-
bred young people loving the sea which held the island in its
embrace, and they practiced the sailing art by which so many
Nantucketers had circumnavigated the globe, and this was
recommendation enough for Nantucket society which, by the
way, was famous for its intelligence and refinement as it was
for its warmth and simplicity.

The United States mail reached the island when weather
permitted. In winter, weeks passed before any tidings were
received from the outside world. Boston papers arrived in
bunches and were as scrupulously preserved as if they were
sacred writings. The "Nantucket Metropolitan" reproduced
the Boston notice of the departure of The Lady of The Lake,
and the "Transcript's" announcement that she carried the
Grand Keyman of the new club which had taken the place of the
old one. Withal, there were quotations from Boston papers
containing other items concerning Don and his friends. All
Nantucket began to search its old files for matter referring to
Don's adventures and experiences, and they so pieced the inci-
dents together that the whole island was agog with the idea
that they were "entertaining angels unawares."

"We must get out of this as soon as possible," said Don
when the old news had taken a fresh start in Nantucket circles
and was producing an additional and an intensified round of
festivities and civilities. When Nora asked why they should
get out, his reply was : "We arc getting altogether too much
cream for the amount of milk we carry In our pans."

The wharf was crowded when the vessel cast off her lines,

>■

I'' ' ■■^'ti!u2

tarn

304

AlE OASTLB DON

and after Nora had almost dislocated her arms wavmg her
adieus to the inhabitants of her father's birthplace, she said to
those around her: "Nantucket has given me such an enlarge-
ment of the heart that hereafter Boston will be too small to
hold me."

mnmm^mm^'^f^

• ■ ' - • ff''..s,!{3- '' ,yi'. ■'. y%.'. ' ii!"! ^ ''!''"'

I j» i ^u, i | w |Kj W

• arms waving her
thplace, she said to
ne such an enlarge-
irill be too small to

CHAPTER XXX.

AS THEY SAILED, AS THEY SAILED.

So runs the refrain of one of the old sonrs that celebrated
the doings of Captain Kidd and his pirates bad and bold. And
so ran the refrain of tht song of memory when the participants
in the trip of The Lady of The Lake began to wrinkle up under
the too familiar touch of Old Father Time." Those remote
days which seem to be as far away as the days of Eden formed
the golden age of their existence.

As they sailed out of Nantucket into Martha's Vineyard
Sound, they found themselves in the company of more than
a hundred coasters.

And as they sailed over the glittering waters, gently
rising and falling with the swell of the sea, and slightly careen-
ing tothepush of the wind.and gradually sighting the blue coast
line of the southern coast of Cape Cod and the northern one
of Martha's Vineyard, Dorothy and Dot., and Nora and Bert
experienced such an elevation of feeling that the enthusiasm of
their language exhausted all the superlatives at their command.

Donny, the squirrel, had the freedom of the Jeck wiih the
rest of the passengers, and, delighting in th^ clear sunlight
and bracing breeze he leaped from the companionway to the
mainboom where, working his way to the Ihroat-rope of the
mainsail, he scampered up the sail, nor stopped until he
reached the crosstree, and, steadying himself by the topmast
stay, flipped his tail in triumphant glee, notwithstanding the

(305)

.. ,.,.^v^-.»-,v-.-ai^an q.-jwi^|^.«^;«jgn.n.L-v.'..i^.^.-i.K..oij...^^. aMLJt.j.i^^:^.-.^

306

AIR CASTLE DON

I :

anxious glances of his friends below. With such transcendent
things as masts and ropes within reach, he was no longer
dependent upon such puny conveniences as passenger-legs for
climbing facilities. While those below were ventilating their
knowledge of Captain Kidd and Commodore Paul Jones, and
Admiral Drake and Admiral Frobisher and other warriors of
ihe sea, and were growing romantic over Captain Cook, the
great circumnavigator, and Columbus, the greater discoverer
of America, Donny in his lofty lookout held his peace, for the
gentle swaying of the mast set him to thinking of the trees of
the forest and of the nstling songs of the woods and streams.
And truth to say, some of his thoughts, like those described
by the poet Wordsworth, were "too deep for tears." Yet, if he
had been in the woods some fool of a brainless boy at the
butt of a gun might have been aiming its destructive muzzle at
him for the sake of amusing a mind too mendicantly poor for
an infirmary, or too idiotically weak for an insane asylum.

All night long they sailed in the entrancing moonlight.
Not till 'the wee sma' hours' began to make their eyelids heavy
did they cease to watch the lights along the shore, and those
also that glimmered from the riggings of the fleet of coasters.
But for the dark lines of the coast which served to anchor
them to reality, the white spec: -i- .sails of the vessels would
have made them feel as thougb i>- ■.',.;re voyaging to the lard
of dreams and ghosts.

When they came on deck in the morning they were passing
the western shores of Elizabeth Island.

"Elizabeth Island, Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket!"
exclaimed Nora, whose eyes dilated with inquisitiveness.
"How did the islands >get their names?"

Werner seldom confessed to ignorance of anything, but in
this case even his inventive powers were at fault and he was

■tt&.

▲IR OASTLB DON

307

uch transcendent
i was no longer
lassenger-legs for

ventilating their
: Paul Jones, and
other warriors of
Captain Cook, the
greater discoverer
his peace, for the
ng of the trees of
x>ds and streams,
e those described
tears." Yet, if he
inless boy at the
jtructive muzzle at
[idicantly poor for
insane asylum,
ncing moonlight,
heir eyelids heavy

shore, and those
e fleet of coasters,
served to anchor
the vessels would
>rag»ng to the laid

they were passing

rd, Nantucket!"
h inquisitiveness.

anything, but in
fault and he was

obliged, like some other wise ignoramuses, to say: "I don't
know."

Captain Small, like every other coasting captain familiar
with those waters, was ready with his answer.

"Well, it was this way, miss," he said: "There was an old
chap who lived in New Bedfoid who once owned all three of
the islands. He had three daughters; one was named Eliza-
beth, another Martha, and the third, Nancy. When he was
about to die, he gave Elizabeth the first choice of the islands.
She chose the one that was nearest to New Bedford, and the
island took her name. The second choice fell to Martha, and
she took the next nearest, and as it had a great many wild
grapevines on it, it became known as Martha's Vineyard.

"The next morning after the old man's death a distant rela-
tive asked Martha what was done with the third island, and
was answered testily and shortly: 'Nan tuk it.' And ever
after the island was called Nantucket. The whaling aristo-
crats of the island added the 'c' to the spelling to make it look
like an Indian name."

"Really, now, is that why my father's birthplace .was called
Nantucket?" asked Gipsy, intently. - *

"I wouldn't swear to it, miss, but that is the way every
coaster accounts for the name. Sailors in general are apt to
tell yarns, but the coasters are famous for telling the truth. If
any one can catch me lying he is at liberty to call me a liar.
If it had been known that your father was to have been born on
that island, it would probably have been called Williamsport
or Billtown. Names is mighty queer things, you know."

"They should have called the place Petersport," said Wil-
helni; "for the people are the descendents of Peter."

"Peter who?" asked Captain Small.

"Peter the Apostle; he was a fisherman, you know."

i.-^axtfi»s.-teii.3b< ;.vi*^i> -■-— -

AIR CASTLE DON

While Small was getting ready to wrinkle his face by way
of a feeble smile, Gipsy interrupted him with: "Did Peter
catch whales, like the Nantucketers?"

"I don't know for a certainty," Wilhelm retorted; "but I

know that the prophet Jonah caught a whale, and so far as I

can judge, Peter was a better fisherman than ever Jonah was."

"I thought that the whale caught Jonah?" said the captain,

a bit imcertain in his Scriptural knowledge.

"It is my impression that they were both badly caught,"
Wilhelm replied, imitatrig the captain's hesitating speech.

"Wilhelm Vonberg!" said Gipsy, in her most solemn man-
ner, "Father Taylor says that the man who tries to use the
Bible for a peg to hang his jokes upon, is sillier than the witless
woman who tried to hang her washing on the horns of the
new moon." She would have said more but for the squirrel,
which sprang from the deck into her lap and began to tease
her for his morning's ration of almond nuts that she always
carried in her pocket for him. Not content with this, as soon
as he had disposed of his allowance, he crept under the corner
of her cloak and drawing it tightly around him, laid down for
a nap.

"That is a sure sign of foul weather," said Don, who was
observing his movements. "When he does that this early in
the day, you may depend upon having a storm before night."
"He agrees with the barometer, but it's mighty curious
how a critter like that knows anything about salt-water
weather," said Captain Small, dropping his eyelids and squint-
ing professionally all around the horizon. "There's an eastern
wind somewhere for sure, and a sort of a snorter at that. But
being fair for us I shall not go into port so long as the rest of
the fleet keep on the course. Not one of them shows sign of
dodging in thus far."

AIR CASTLE DON

309^

face by way
"Did Peter

orted; "but I
tid so far as I
r Jonah was."
d the captain,

adiy caught,"
ig speech.

solemn man-
ies to use the
lan the witless

horns of the
•r the squirrel,
jegan to tease
lat she always
h this, as soon
der the corner

laid down for

Don, who was
It this early in
before night."
lighty curious
out salt-water
ds and squint-
re's an eastern
r at that. But
J as the rest of
shows sign of

At two o'clock the "easterner" came along hale and hearty,
snorting like a grampus, spouting water like a whale, and play-
ing with the waves like a porpoise. It madeTlieLady come to a
double reef in her sails and drenched her as if she needed wash-
ing, but withal it sent her bowling through the water like a
swordfish. The fleet put itself in trim for the visit and danced
along as merrily as if it were sweating through the last figures
of a cotillion or waltz. Not a vessel swerved from its course.

Dorothy and Gipsy remained on deck with the sterner sex
until they began to get chilled, and then they went below,
where, in their berths, they were lulled asleep by the cradle-
like motions of the vessel and the measured rhythm of the
swashing waters as they passed by the hull.

When they again awoke. The Lady of The Lake was off
the Palisades on the Hudson Ri er. The majesty of the cliffs,
the sheen of the waters, the variety of craft, the freshness of
the air, the beauty of the hills, the blueness of the sky, the bril-
liancy of the sunlight and the magnificence of the dwellings
and grounds on the eastern shore filled Gipsy with astonish-
ment and delight.

"Is this Heaven?" she. asked of Captain Small, who stood at
the wheel, trying to get the better of a saucy little coasting
schooner which had shown an inclination to outsail The Lady
of The Lake ever since she first hove in sight off Gay Head on
Martha's Vineyard.

"No, miss, this ain't Heaven; it's only the Hudson River;
and, according to my reckoning, it's a good ways off from
Heaven," said the captain, in a matter-of-fact way, and keeping
a sharp lookout on the cute coaster which was doing her best
to get abeam so as to blanket the sails of The Lady and thus
steal a chance to forge ahead of her.

"That's a pesky craft," he added, but addressing himself to

.-=*».: re

•'"-'■"-•'irrTitwiiTitinrtn'fi

•««i|iiiato

810

AIR OASTLB DON

Werner. "Hoist our topsail, and staysail and then if The
Lady doesn't forge ahead of her, HI have to say that she
doesn't know her business."

No sooner was the extra canvas up than the rival vessel
put on every extra stitch she could muster, notwithstanding it
was so squally that light sails were likely to be blown away at
any moment. But The Lady soon showed her superiority
over the coaster and passed ahead, her lighter bulk giving her
the advantage over her competitor.

"When did we pass New York?" asked Dorothy, now that
the excitement was over.

"A little after ^lur o'clock this morning," said Werner.
"We had both the wind and tide with us when we entered Hell
Gate and got through that awful place without the least
trouble."

"Why didn't you call us so that we could see the city as we
passed by?" Dorothy asked with some disappointment.

"I did think of doing it, but Wilhelm said no; and I guess
he was right ; there was nothing to be seen but a lot of masts,
roofs, chimney pots and steeples, and I should think that you,
who were born and brought up in Boston had had enough of
that kind of scenery."

"I would rather wake out of a morning slumber and find
myself sailing in the midst of such scenery as this than to look
upon any city in the world," said Gipsy, with great sincerity.
"People who live surrounded by so much beauty and grandeur
ought to be good enough to be translated directly to Heaven
without any change," she added, with deep earnestness.

"Which the same they ain't by no manner of means,"
exclaimed the captain forcibly. "I've sailed up and down this
river seventy-three times, and I know it as well as I know the
corns on my toes. Every prospect pleases and only man is

AIR OASTLB DON

Bll

1 then if The
say that she

le rival vessel
irithstanding it
jlown away at
er superiority
ulk giving her

3thy, now that

said Werner,
re entered Hell
lout the least

: the city as we

ntment.

o; and I guess

a lot of masts,

think that you,

had enough of

imber and find
lis than to look
great sincerity,
y and grandeur
ctly to Heaven
mestness.
ler of means,"
) and down this
1 as I know the
nd only man is

vile, as the old hymn says. This ain't no Nantucket, where
everybody tries to do you good. The river pirates are so thick
that if we didn't keep a sharp lookout they'd steal everything
from us from stem to stern in no time ; and the land sharks are
so eager to take advantage of you that they charge three prices
for everything they sell and every favor they do to you. If
you was to fall from them Palisades and should happen to be
picked up alive, the first thing the'd ask would be how much
you'd give them for carrying you to a doctor. It's a regular
road to Jericho. Seeing as how there are lots of churches
along the river there must be some saints among them, but
none on 'em shows themselves to us coasters; leastwise, not
very often. It seems to me that where the people is thickest
and the country oldest, there the sinners is the wustest and the
vilest. They say this country was fust settled by the Dutch;
I don't know much about that race, but perhaps that accounts
for the lot of cussedness that's laying round loose all the way
up and down this river."

"Dorothy and Wilhelm and myself are closely related to the
Dutch," said Werner, laughing at the blushes of indignation
suffusing his sister's face; "but we do not feel particularly
wicked on that account. I know that the Connecticut Puri-
tans on being asked why they cultivated tobacco when they
were so much opposed to its use among themselves said they
were raising it to 'sell to the Ungodly Dutch who lived on the
Hudson River;* yet those old Knickerbockers were the salt of
New York as the Pilgrims were the salt of New England."

"The Dutch were fine table salt, and the Pilgrims coarse
pickle salt," said Dorothy from whose cheeks the colors of
indignation had not yet faded away.

"If the Dutch were ever the salt of the earth in any shape
they've lost their savor," the captain retorted. "Them that

'wJBflm^

, 1i ;n;jy ' «t. « i ,'— »".

812

AIR OASTLB DON

I've run afoul of was mostly made up of hard cider, lager beer,
and forty horse-power tobacco, and kept from vanishing into
nothing by hoops of rusty genealogy and ancestral vanity.
They are so stuck up that they have formed a little denomin-
ation all by themselves, and they call it The Dutch Reformed
Church. If you go into one of their meetin' houses you'll see
their coat of arms hung up by the pulpit, done up in orange
and black, and with so many animals pictured in it cuttin' up so
many antics it looks like a circus poster. And they have a cat-
echism of their own cut up in fifty- two parts so that there can
be a dose of it for every Sunday in the year. They say the
Ten Commandments, The Lord's Prayer and The Apostle's
Creed every Sunday of their lives, but in their opinion that
circus picture knocks the stuffing out of all of them. The
fust time I saw that escutcheon, as they call it, hanging by the
pulpit as though there was no place for the cross where it was,
it stuck in my crop like a herring bone. And I jest said to
myself, if there wasn't another church this side of the New
Jerusalem for a feller to get into but the Reformed Church I'd
go into a smoke house and get my religion there before I'd
tie my hawser to a concern what's towed along and kept
afloat by a yaller escutcheon or any other kind of scutching."
Don was indigjnam at the captain's tirade, and all the
more so because he knew that, although the Vonbergs were
members of Doctor Beecher's church, their father and mother
were originally members of the Dutch Reformed Church, and
still had a great reverence for that denomination, notwithstand-
ing it was so small numerically. It was therefore with consid-
erable heat he said: "Captain Small, your prejudices have
swallowed your common sense; the Dutch Reformed Church
is the best and most influential denomination on the Hudson

K^iiiiri I um w

fi i[ itli iiiM lir I I 11 ■■■ I

!■ I II I** ' I iiipi»PI

•*%•

:i(ler, lager beer,
vanishing into

ncestral vanity.

little denomin-
)utch Reformed
louses you'll see
ne up in orange
n it cuttin' up so

they have a cat-
>o that there can
They say the
i The Apostle's
eir opinion that

of them. The

hanging by the
iss where it was,
id I jest said to
ide of the New
med Church I'd
there before I'd
along and kept
d of scutching."
de, and all the
Vonbergs were
her and mother
ed Church, and
1, notwithstand-
)re with consid-
srejudices have
formed Church
on the Hudson

AIR CASTLE DON

818

River, and its history is far more interesting than the history of
the Pilgrim Fathers."

At this shot, Dorothy clapped her hands with vigor, which
so offended the captain that he sealed his lips hermetically,
notwithstanding both Bert and Gipsy did their best to start
him off upon another controversial flight. Wilhelm and Wer-
ner were as much amused by Small's sudden reticence as they
had been by his previous volubility. Withal, they were grate-
ful to Don for dropping such a hot shot into the captain's vest
pocket. They were an exceptionally ' broadminded pair of
young men, but they reverenced the faith of their parents alto-
gether too much to hear it lightly spoken of with indifference.

For awhile there was golden silence, punctuated only by
exclamations of enthusism and admiration elicited by the mag-
nificence and sublimity of the scenery by which they were sur-
rounded. Besides the glorious vistas of landscape opening up
on every hand there were the innumerable jaunty coasters with
their white sails flecking the river in every direction, going and
coming, some loaded and some light. An immense river
steamer passed by loaded with a great crowd ot passengers.
Pleasure craft of every description flitted to and fro like birds
skimming the brilliant waters, and countless row-boats darted
hither and thither like water-bugs upon a meadowy brook.

Presently Gipsy's sentimental thoughts and emotions were
snuffed out like a candle by the sight of a floating village which
notwithstanding it was over a quarter of a mile in length, was
being slowly towed down the river by five puffing, wheezing
steam tugs. The village consisted of canal boats, of which she
counted one hundred and twenty-seven, fastened together by
hawsers. Nearly all had entire families on them who carried
on their domestic avocations with as much freedom as if they
were in cottages on the land. The day being sunny, not a few

-.v'-'jirjm.mi'}, '

814

AIR 0A8TLB DON

were washing their clothes in plain sight despite the comnund-
ment which forbids such things. Other boats were trimmed
from stem to stern with the fluttering lines of clothing that had
already gone through the purifying process. Here and there
men and women could be seen stepping from one barge to
another making calls upon one another, and doubtless
exchanging such gossip as might be peculiar to the watery
town.

To Gipsy the floating village was at first a mystery ; then it
seemed the most romantic of all things; but by and by it
appeared tragical that so many people, young and old, male
and female, should be living such an unsettled floating life. At
last, however, under the touch of Wilhelm's humor, the quaint
combination resolved itself into a grotesque oddity and a ludic-
rous comedy. The old fashions of the women, the peculiar
amusements of the children, the lordly listlessness of the men
broken now and then with snatches of broken dialect, wild
songs and rollicking revelry, and the picturesque groups of
sleepers scattered in confusion here and there, kept the hinges
Of Gipsy's mind swinging back and forth between unbounded
astonishment and irrepressible amusement.

Three of these floating villages were passed in the course of
two hours; two were bound down, and one, up. The barges
belonging to the one going up were without cargoes, and
looked so light that they resembled an island of immense
wooden bubbles seeking some place where they might burst
into nothing.

"If Father Taylor were to see a fleet like that," said Bert,
"he'd find his salt water dictionary entirely inadequate for his
needs. He could no more turn those canal boats into figures
of speech for sailor sermons than he could turn hog-troughs
into Indian canoes. I have heard of 'the raging canal,' but I

,S^li^US!&Si£^ ■

i^lWiiW^H"

!^P»P"

AIR 0A8TLB DON

815

e the command-
i were trimmed
bthing that had
Here and there
n one barge to
and doubtless
■ to the watery

nystery ; then it
: by and by it
' and old, male
eating life. At
mor, the quaint
lity and a ludic-
n, the peculiar
less of the men
:n dialect, wild
ique groups of
kept the hinges
een unbounded

in the course of
). The barges
t cargoes, and
id of immense
;y might burst

lat," said Bert,
iequate for his
Its into figures
n hog-troughs
g canal,' but I

didn't know that they had a rage for turning out such floating
nightmares of giant coffins roped together in that style. It is
enough to give one the delirium tremens to look at them.

He was better pleased by the scenes at West Point, where
a day was spent in roaming through the grounds and sur-
roundings of that famous military school. But all minor
objects of attraction were reduced into insignificance when,
continuing their voyage, they followed the river to where it
cleaves the mountains and stormy old Dunderberg from
beneath his nightcap of cloud looks frowningly down and with
spiteful gusts of breath marks his displeasure against the end-
less fleets of money makers and pleasure seekers that throng
through the wild pass that he in his selfish isolation would have
consecrated to everlasting solitude and silence. So severe
were his aspects and so threatening his rugged clififs that the
Lady of The Lake voyagers felt as though they were intruding
into a sanctum sanctorum which Nature had reserved for com-
munion with herself.

On reaching Catskill they left the vessel and spent four days •
upon the purple heights of the Catskill Mountains, where, four
thousand feet above the sea, they climbed, wandered, won-
dered and dreamed among the glens, the woods and clouds
with such lightness of soul they almost felt as if in a disem-
bodied state they had reached the shores of another world.
When, on the descent, they halted at the old Rip Van Winkle
House and rambled up the darkly shadowed glen where, as it
is alleged by Irving, Rip met the little men and by sipping
from one of their little kegs, was put to sleep for twenty years,
they were more than half inclined to think the story literally
true. They had done so much dreaming themselves that they
felt that they were twenty years older than when they .started
from Boston, and they were almost afraid that when they

816

AIR OASTLE DON

returned nobody would be able to recognize them. It was
with relief that they descended from the clouds and felt the
deck beneath their feet again and sailccl into matter-of-fact
Albany and listened to the hum of an every-day world once
more.

uu— j--iM-ijmu>m'"M-""—'— * "" II

zc them. It was
ouds and felt the
nto matter-of-fact
y-day world once

•^r^

CHAITKK XXXI.

ON HANNAH .SCIIKKBCHITM S ISLAND.

Don and Bert went into a liarbcr's shop to get their hair
cut. Dun did not take particular notice of the man who was
cHpping his locks, but the man took notice of him from the
moment of his entrance. After snipping off a lock with an
emphatic movement of the scissors, he drew back a step or
two, and looking his customer in the face with a keenly scrut-
inizing phmce, said: "Methinks I've seen this face and head
before. Vet my memory is a false mistress that plays me
scurvy tricks. But stay I Wast thou ever guest to a jailor,
or listener to a just judge who spoke thee well, though thou
wast garbed in rags and clasped the hand of Sorrow in a prison
cell? Ah! speak not. I have it! Have it as I have the vaga-
bonds of thought, that with vague hints of things that once
have been come back to give me torment 'fore my time. Give
me thy hand, thou partner of my grief, for thou art Don Don-
alds, who erstwhiles heard me sing the song of memory in
prison, and parted from me because the pangs of hunger bade
us part."

It was the actor with whom Don spent the night in prison,
and Don was glad to know that he had at last settled down to
something tangible, although the language he used seemed to
have lost nothing of its gaseousness. This last, however, he
soon discovered was only assumed as prompted by the associa-
tions of the past.

■.r-j.,.^' . : ■■ (317) ■ ■ ■-. ■■

li ■•

■^•iiilOMFntrni -nmtJei..

AIR CASTLE DON

"I am making a good living," he said, laughing like a sane
man; "and what is a deuced sight better, I have married the
dearest girl in all the world, and she has so much good sense
that I haven't made a fool of myself for more than a year and a
half, if you will except the manner in which I spoke to you just
now." - -

Reminders of Don's former trials in Albany met him at
every step, but neither sting nor -hame attended them. And
when his companions insisted upon being shown the places
where he had suffered, he complied without hesitation, and
carried them to the prison cell where he passed a night, and to
the old church portico where he lodged with a stray dog, and
to the shop of Abraham Isaacs, the Jew pawnbroken, where
he had been turned away as a thief for inquiring after the con-
tents of his stolen trunk. The old Israelite happened to be
standing in front of his door as they passed by, and Gipsy gave
him a glance from her dark eyes that was indignant enough to
frighten a stone, and she would have halted to give him a lec-
ture had not Bert hurried her on by main force.

"I am not sorry I became so hard pushed in this city," said
Don. • "Boys are apt to be thoughtless and selfish; I am sure
I was before I came here. Albany gave me lessons it was
necessary for me to learn, and I would not have shown you
where I learned them had I not been desirous of reminding
myself of them again. I am going now to see if that drinking
fountain is still in order. It is on the other side of the river,
and too far away for a walk of pleasure. Bert may go with me,
and the rest of yon may wander where you please while we are
absent."

But his companions insisted upon going with him to the
roundhouse, where they found the fountain dedicated to the
memory of Jake Cullum and Bob Flanger, looking as bright as

gh'ing like a sane
lave married the
nuch good sense
than a year and a
spoke to you just

»any met him at
ded them. And
hown the places
t hesitation, and
d a night, and to
a stray dog, and
irnbroken, where
ng after the con-
happened to be
, and Gipsy gave
gnant enough to
) give him a lec-

n this city," said
dfish; I am sure
e lessons it was
have shown you
us of reminding
! if that drinking
iide of the river,
may go with me,
ase while we are

with him to the
ledicated to the
cing as bright as

AIR OASTLE DON

819

the day it was put up. The men made conscience of keeping
it in order. There was no one present that Don knew, and as
the visitors gave no explanation of their presence, they caused
no small amount of wonder and curiosity.

Don, now accompanied only by Bert, called on the Flanger
and Cullum families, which, notwithstanding the death of the
bread winners, were getting along quite comfortably. Don
received a welcome that made his eyes water, and the assur-
ance that the assistance he gave them at his form^ visit had so
tided them over shoals that ever since they had been able to
make their own way without difficulty.

When they returned to the vessel Don found a pair of
reporters on board, and as a result, and in spite of his own
reticence, the arrival of The Lady of The Lake with the "Boy
Philanthropist" and his party of Boston friends was chron-
icled in flaring headlines of long locals.

That afternoon the party left for Saratoga, where three days
were spent at the springs. When they came back Peter Piper
had a long story to tell of his trials during their absence. The
newspaper notices had caused a great influx of visitors to The
Lady, and both Peter and the captain had been subjected to
numberless interrogations. Small said that so many questions
had been asked that he hadn't a single civil answer left.

"Americans live more by the questions they ask than they
do by the sweat o' their brow," said Peter. "They hae kept
me q^aeing frae marnin* till nigi;*:. Some v/ere that spierin'
they wanted to know if we had ony lovers in the company.
On a' sich I frowned and glowered mightily. To more than
one I says : 'A talebearer revealeth secrets, but he that is of a
faithful spirit concealeth the matter.' See Proverbs eleven and
thirteen. They didna mind the hot Scripture shot no more
than if it was a feather, but when I at 'em wi' see Proverbs

".1

!t4

■-■"^'S ■^■'T'f--'- V ■•■■•

■? »' ' y^^?:^«M^igifpgw WBgJWgP

820

AIR CASTLE DON

eleven and thirteen, they spiered at me as though I was some-
thin' uncanny, an' cut for the wharf as if the de'il was ahind
em.

"Yes," said the captain, laughing immoderately, "Peter's
reference to chapter and verse was as good as a new broom.
It swept them ashore by the half dozen. And now," he went
on, "if you are ready to give the order, I'll put The Lady where
the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest."

"Cast ofT as soon as you please," replied Wilhelm,
promptly, "for I am longing to get to some place where human
nature is scarce."

On the down trip they would have stopped a day or two in
New York, but when they were abreast the city the heat was
so great they crowded canvas for the open sea. Nor did they
pause in their voyage until, after threading a tortuous channel,
they dropped anchor off Cotuit Port, a small hamlet on the
south side of Cape Cod.

The mystery of the captain's ability to pilot his way among
so many crooks and shallows, was solved to Don, when he
learned that Cotuit Port was Small's birthplace and home, and
that he was so enamoured with this part of Barnstable County
that even its defects were virtues in his sight.

Disembarking with their tents and equipments, they rowed
over to "Hannah Screechum's Island," which lay opposite to
Cotuit and was distant about three-quarters of a mile. Here
was a pine covered tract of eight hundred acres surrounded
by a narrow belt of water that gave a crooked shore line
about five miles in extent. They encamped under the pines of
the south shore close to several heaps of oyster shells which in
the long ago were formed of the leavings of the aborigfinal
inhabitants. The ground was soft and dry with the accumula-
tions of grey moss and brown pine-needles. The air was sweet

AIR CASTLE DON

321

tgh I was some-
de'il was ahind

:rately, "Peter's
s a new broom.

I now," he went
rhe Lady where
are at rest."
jplied Wilhelm,
ce where human

i a day or two in
ity the heat was
I. Nor did they
ortuous channel,

II hamlet on the

t his way among
) Don, when he
e and home, and
irnstable County

lents, they rowed
1 lay opposite to
of a mile. Here
icres surrounded
)oked shore line
nder the pines of
;r shells which in
jf the aborigfinal
ith the accumula-
rhe air was sweet

with the odors of the pines and of the broad green leaves of
the trailing arbutus, and cool and bracing under the shade
where ocean breezes played at will. The Seapuit River, a nar-
row tide stream, and Dead Neck, a narrower strip of sand
beach, gave a touch of variety to the isolated scene without
interfering with the view of the gloriously amethystine sea.
Fifteen miles away they could discern the shores of Martha's
Vineyard, and if there had been ambition enough left to climb
the tallest tree, glimpses through a glass would have revealed
the whereabouts of redolent Nantucket.

"You are nine miles distant from any railroad or tele-
graph," said Captain Small, with evident satisfaction. The
people of Cotuit Port are so accustomed to minding their own
business that there need be no fear of them, A mile or so
north of you is the Village of Osterville, whose people are so
slow that they will never take the trouble to come down here.
So here you are as much out of the world as if you were clams
in a mud-flat. There won't be even a reporter to pry into your
shells. And by the way, them Ostervillians is so stuck up in
their notions that they've been trying to call this Paradise
Island and all that sort of hifalutin thing, and the next we know
they'll dub Dead Neck, Blue Bell Terrace because the wild
peavines blossom there. Some of them has relatives in Boston
and that's where all them notions come from. I 'spect that
one of these days them Bostonians will come down along this
coast like the frogs went into Egypt and then their cologne-
bottle cottages will spile every nateral thing that we've got.
But don't you forgit that this is Hannah Screechum's Island,
and that that there spit of sand is Dead Neck, and that they'll
carry them names till every mother's son of the old settlers is
dead and buried."

■\ I

■:.\ n

««t

322

AIR CASTLE DON

"But how did the old settlers coim. to give such curdling
names to these places?" asked Gipsy. ,'

Small was rather nonplussed by the directness of the ques-
tion, but managed to say: "Oh, there was a hidden treasure
and a murdered man, and a killed woman besides, whose name
was Hannah, and who set up an awful screeching every time
anyone tried to find the treasure. There must have been some
truth in the story, 'cos if there'd been no sech thing, there'd
be no sech story."

"Docs Hannah ever do any screeching on the island now?"
asked Dorothy, who betrayed little respect for the captain's
narrative, and less for his logic. "' - :

"No. Mrs. Abby Kelly, an Ostervillian spiritualist, asked
her why she'd given up screeching, and Hannah answered that
she'd got tired of it, 'cos the folkses had become so allfired
cute and intelligent that they paid no attention to ghosts and
didn't believe in anything else that belonged to another world.
Abby Kelly would have taken Hannah into partnership, so as
to convince the people that sperrits could tip chairs and knock
tables; she would have given anything if Hannah would have
screeched at her sittings, but Hannah said she had more than
she could attend to in the other world without bothering her-
self with this one." -, - .

"Thank you," said Dorothy with a great show of gratitude;
"all 1 wanted to be assured of was that Hannah wouldn't do
•:;ny screeching while we are here."

"You needn't trouble yourselves about the treasure," Small
continued, "for although the old settlers ransacked the island
from stem to stern, they never found anything but the oyster
shells the Indians had forgotten to take to their Happy Hunt-
ing Grounds, when they cleaied out to make room for the
white man.

mammimm

as^

s such curdling

ess of the ques-
hJdden treasure
les, whose name
ling every time
have been some
h thing, there'd

he island now?"
or the captain's

Mritualist, asked
h answered that
:ome so allfired
n to ghosts and
■) another world,
irtnership, so as
hairs and knock
inah would have
; had more than
t bothering her-

low of gratitude;
lah wouldn't do

treasure," Small
acked the island
g but the oyster
;ir Happy Hunt-
ce room for the

^^•mm^jlitrmr^y^Sf^f^^'^ni^mmgmm^rm'^^

AIR CASTLE DON

^Wfl^"WW«

323

"But there is other treasures that'll be oi some account.
There's quauhaugs if you're a mind to wade for them, and
clams that can be had for the digging, and lots of scup outside
Dead Neck, and oceans of bluefish besides. When you get
ready to go fishing, I'll take you out in one of our fast sailing
Cotuit boats. Wc can anchor for scup fishing, but you have
to keep scudding like the dickens if you want to get hold of a
blue fish. They're to be caught only by making believe to run
away from them."

It was not long before they verified this part of the treasure
story to their full satisfaction, though it was at the cost of
tender feet, soft hands and sensitive faces, which persisted in
protesting against the exposures to which they were so ruth-
lessly subjected.

The camp was named Castle Indolence, after one of Thom-
son's poems, but the occupants kept themselves so busy with
one thing and another that little time went to waste. They
liked their camping on the island better than they did their-
voyage up the Hudson, because they could keep themselves so
busy doing nothing, thougn they would not have missed the
river trip for anything. '^ ^:

Hearing that there was a settlement of Indians at Marsh-
pee, not far from Cotuit Port, they hired a team at the Port
and made an excursion to the relics of the lost tribes. They
found the tawny faces, the high cheek bones, the straight hair
and the black dull eyes that characterize the Indians, but these
were about all that was left of the once famous tribes of
Massachusetts.

"They live like white people, with their cottages, school
and church, and white manners and meannesses thrown in,
and that takes all the romance out of them," said Bert, discon-
tentedly, after his return. "I went around and tried to find

•A

■

'-'vvS|jitorii|^

824

AIR CASTLE DON

something in the shape of an arrow, or a tomahawk or a scalp
to buy, and they looked at me as if I were a heathen, and talked
religion at me so fast and pointedly that I left them as soon as
I could. One old squaw — I mean, lady — wanted to pray for
me. I told her I had no objections to her doing it after I was
out of sight. And then she looked at me so sadly I said she
might go ahead at once. But for some reason or other she
didn't sec fit to take up with my oflfer."

"She knew that you were an uncivilized, heathen white
boy," said Gipsy, indignantly; "that's why she didn't give you
the benefit of her blessing. I wish I had been there in your
stead."

"You might have been if you had not been so busy hunting
after eagle feathers, and bead wampums and other vanities,"
Bert retorted laughingly.

They had not been in camp after their return more than an
hour when a boat-load of company came into their little land-
ing to make a call. They had come down from Osterville.
Three of the ladies belonged to Boston, and two to the village.
One of the gentlemen was from Boston, another was the editor
of "The Barnstable Patriot," and the third was from the vil-
lage where he officiated as pastor of the Baptist Church. The
Boston ladies knew all about Don's career, and one of them
was one of the anonymous contributors to the fund he had set
aside for trust purposes.

The editor was there to write up the party. With this
exception the visit proved more than pleasant. The excep-
tion, however, arose more from the modesty of the interviewed
than from the intrusiveness of the interviewer. And in the
end, the subjects of the editor's search suffered little from the
account he gave of the party.

When the campers returned the call they discovered that

» ' ., ■ #"

mm<fim4»

AIll CASTLE DON

325

iwk or a scalp
len, and talked
lem as soon as
ed to pray for
I it after I was
idly I said she
1 or other she

heathen white
lidn't give you
I there in your

o busy hunting
jther vanities,"

n more than an
heir little land-
rom Osterville.
to the village.
r was the editor
IS from the vil-
t Church. The
id one of them
fund he had set

rty. With this
It. The excep-
the interviewed
;r. And in the
d little from the

discovered that

Osterville consisted af about three hundred inhabitants, whose
houses looked as if they had been originally planted by a Cape
Cod gale, SO promiscuously were they scattered.

"The people look as sharp as razors," said Dorothy, "but
what surprises me is that they have not invented more names
for themselves. When you have said Crockers and Crosbys,
Hallets and Lovells, Scudders and Hinckleys, you Inve
exhausted the whole list of names."

"That's because they marry one another so's to keep their
names at home," explained Captain Small, who was bound to
say all he could in disparagement of the rival village. Jeal-
ousy ran high between the two places. Every stray egg that
could be hatched to the detriment c each other was immedi-
ately set upon and incubated. '
V On Sunday Don rode with the Cotuit minister, who was to
preach an afternoon sermon in Osterville. He was much
pleased with the quality of the sermon and the character of the
congregation. But during the services a Sunday school boy
of the "Scudder persuasion" resolving that a Cotuit horse
should not be tied to an Osterville fence, cut the exchanging
minister's new harness into three times the number of pieces it
was originally designed to have. Without a murmer, the min-
ister put things together as best he could and drove home talk-
ing as cheerfully as was possible under the circumstances.
The boy, although well known, escaped punishment for his
offense because his father was a local church official ; he never,
however, got rid of the criminal disposition which prompted
his act. Folly was bound up in his hide and he was an object
of contempt to all who had the misfortune to know him in his
subsequent life. The very nails with which he was in the habit
of scratching people, turned inward and proved his sorest
punishment.

4ft k

..T,^^i

826

AIR 0A8TLE DON

¥-.

On meeting Captain Small, Don asked him how he liked
the Osterville parson who had exchanged with his pastor.

"Only middling well," Small replied, pursing his mouth
and lifting his eyes to the clouds. "Fact is, though he may do
for Osterville, or some place out West, like Chicago, he could
never fill the bill for Cotuit Port. We must have the best of
preaching in our place."

"How much do you pay," Don was curious enough to ask.

"Three hundred dollars and a donation."

"Where does he live?"

"In Cotuit, of course. What makes you ask that ques-
tion?"

"You pay him so little, I didn't know but he lived in
Heaven during week days,"

Captain Small walked away, looking grieved to the heart.

"Look here, Captain Small," Don called after him, and
causing him to return ; "that man is a christian, besides being a
good preacher. He took the cutting of his harness without
complaint, and didn't say a word to me about the meanness
of his parishioners who force him to go into the pulpit looking
as seedy as a moulting bird. I shall get him a new harness,
and take his measure for a new suit of clothes which I will have
made for him as soon as I return to Boston. But if you charge
these things on your donation account I'll set the Boston
reporters after you, and they know how to flay mean people to
perfection."

"If you'll give him them things, I'll give him a barrel of
flour and not let even my wife know anything about it," said
Small, joyously, for he loved his pastor, and practically was
his best friend.

And so the time passed away, almost every day bringing
with it some new pleasure and some new incident revealing

•^f

•p-vA.

m how he liked
his pastor,
sing his mouth
3ugh he may do
licago, he could
lave the best of

5 enough to ask.

ask that ques-

but he lived in

ed to the heart.

after him, and
, besides being a
harness without
It the meanness
e pulpit looking

a new harness,
hich I will have
ut if you charge
set the Boston
mean people to

liim a barrel of

about it," said

practically was

y day bringing
ident revealing

AIR 0A8TLB DON

827

queer phases of human nature, both juvenile and adult.
Having the theatrical garments on board The Lady of The
Lake, Wilhelm and Werner sifted a medley from The Midsum-
mer Night Dream of Shakespeare, and, forming a corps of
assistants from the club and from the bright young people of
Cotuit and Ostervillc, blended them together in a nocturnal
festival in which lanterns gleamed, songs abounded, tableaux
figured, recitations resounded and dancing and clam chowder
came in last, but not least in the round of innocent merry-
making.

The people on shore who thought it a crime to black boots
or to wear a ribbon, were shocked, and wished that Hannah
Screechum would do her duty by "the ungodly carousers" and
bring them to their pious senses by one of her most piercing
"Scritches."

Although unaware of the benevolent wishes of the
"unco guid," people of Cotuit and Osterville, the occupants of
Castle Indolence on the night following the festival had reason
to believe that Hannah did not intend to let them depart with-
out giving to the most incredulous evidences of her existence
and of her old-time "scritching" ability.

The lights were out, the trees were silent and not even a
breath of wind wandered through the dense shadows of the
island. It being half past eleven, and the campers having been
on the sea all the afternoon blue-fishing, they were wrapped in
a profound slumber. Suddenly there was a sharp titinabula-
tion cf a bell not far from where the camp was situated. Again
and again the bell rang out, seeming to gather force with each
repetition, to the unbounded horror of the trembling campers
who hastened to light their lights. Whilst they sat cowering
and listening to the weird sounds ringing through the woods,
peals of high-keyed laughter pierced the air and was immedi-

■l-

■■■Ti

'■;#l

<^ai^i^^'-^tijL<^''i

;"^;"7.t,:

328

AIR CASTLE DON

ately followed by shriek after shriek that sounded so discord-
antly terrific that the very trees began to shiver, for the wind
itself was being aroused and sighed through the pines with a
low I'.ndertone that but added to the general alarm.

Pttcr, half clad, hugging his Bible with both hands to his
breast, and shaking as with the palsy, fled from his own tent,
and ran into the tent of the other campers crying out: "The
Lord hae mercy on us all for a' our iniquities an' transgres-
sions!" He had been sadly tried by the doings of the preced-
ing evening, notwithstanding he had avoided remonstrances
and had heroically performed the duty of waiting upon the
pleasures of the guests. He felt sure now that supernatural
causes were at work to punish them all for having such a
merry time. He tried to stay himself with some Scripttjral
quotation suited to the emergency, but his mind was so
clouded by fear that his memory refused to serve him.

Dorothy, in her terror, clung to Bert, while Gipsy cast her-
self into Don's arms beseeching him to keep "Hannah" from
harming her.

Don began to laugh in spite of Gipsy's fears, and while Bert
was holding Dorothy very tightly to prevent himself from
trembling, the untimely mirth increased till it seemed but the
echo of the sounds that came up from the surface of the
Seapuit.

"There is no Hannah in this hubbub," he said, as soon as
he could control himself. That was only an owl that made
those shrieks and that mocking laughter is made by a loon
that's down there on the river, and the bell is our dinner bell.
When the tide is up you have noticed the shoals of menhaden
fish that swim about here. While watching them after supper
I saw three small sharks following them and I planned to get
one, if possible. I baited a cod-hook with a piece of fresh

"?«-a

' 5tS'J«*'7»»lW»S 'TilKVr'"*-

■ .iS«^tv*t;,*;wfl>»S^e.ii.* ■ ',

'^m^^K^mmf'^'

Ain CASTLE DON

829

led so discord-

r, for the wind

ic pines with a

rm.

:h hands to his

n his own tent,

ng out: "The

an' transgres-
; of the preced-
remonstrances
iting upon the
at supernatural
having such a
oine Scriptural

mind was so
fe him.

Gipsy cast her-
' Hannah" from

and while Bert
t himself from
seemed but the

surface of the

said, as soon as
owl that made
iiade by a loon
our dinner bell.
,1s of menhaden
em after supper
planned to get
I piece of fresh

beef, and after putting on a good float, threw it into the river,
and tied the shore-end of the line to a small sapling on the top
of which I suspended our dinner bell in such a way that it
would ring if the bait was taken. Something is at that line;
the line has started the bell; the bell has started the loon, and
the loon has stirred up the owl and we have had a great scare
for nothing, I am going down to the shore to see what has
swallowed that bait."

"If you are sure it isn't Hannah, I will go with you," said
Bert bravely, and the Vonbergs, though still shaking, as with
an ague, declared that they would follow.

"But what if you should be mistaken, and Hannah should
come here while you are gone," said Gipsy, tremulously.

"Peter with his Bible will be a match lor her," answered
Werner, beginning to realize the absurdity of their alarms.

But Peter, mortified by the groundlessness of his fears and
the dishabille of his person, had retreated to his own quarters
where, after depositing his Bible, he said to himself: "The
wicked flee when no man pursueth. See Proverbs twenty-
eight and first."

On being called he returned looking humble and crest-
fallen, and saying: "I might hae keened it was but an owl an'
a loon had I not been clean fasht by the bell. And to think it
is the same bell I hae been ringing every day, is cneuch to
make me believe that I hae become as daft as that loo*^ that's
laughing at the bell."

The shark was securely hooked and required hard pulling
to get him on shore where he threshed about in the sedge and
snapped his jaws as if he had swallowed Hannah before taking
the beef. He measured six feet three inches. The bell having
ceased to ring, the loon and the owl relapsed into silence,
leaving the shark-catchers to do the laughing and shrieking.

'.1

^^^^

SiK)

AItt CASTLE DON

As soon as the sun was up they began to extract the teeth
of the shark for mementoes, and as there was nothing more
to fear from the manes of Hannah Screechum, Gipsy said with
evident disappointment: "I wish it had been Hannah instead
of the shark. Tiiere wouhl have been seven of us to prove the
ghost story which wouUl have made a lovely ending to our
wonderful trip."

"I'd rather catch a shark than a ghost any time," exclaimed
Bert, with fervor. "We have got the shark, and we have had
the scare. If an imaginary ghost can play such havoc with us,
I wonder what a real one would have done?"

They tried to kcc|) the story to themselve«; but Gipsy hav-
ing told it to the captain, the captain told it to his wife, and so
the "Darnstable Patriot" brought it out with trimmings and
embellishments galore, as did the Boston papers also when they
reproduced it from the Cape papers. Notwithstanding the
facts were so widely distributed, there followed a real revival
of The Hannah Screechum superstition and the island for
years was given a wide birth at night. Having, however,
received a new name, and being made accessible by a fancy
bridge which gives entrance to driveways of surpassing beauty,
and being frequented by the costly equipages of Boston people
whose summer houses occupy the adjacent blufTs, the super-
stition is fast passing into the shades of oblivion.

-.'»H!!t»S»a;lg;4.-':Vi:'«,'-;W«r»'«^,'.-

'•JiVVai', vf«sijsi(»

^1^

xtract the teeth
i nothing more
Gipsy said with
Hannah instead
us to prove the
ending to our

inie," exclaimed
nd we have had
1 havoc with us,

but Gipsy hav-
his wife, and so

trimmings and
3 also when they
'ithstanding the
:d a real revival
I the island for
iving, however,
sible by a fancy
rpassing beauty,
)f Boston people
luflfs, the super-
ion.

CHAPTER XXXII.

A PAFTING LOOK INTO THR KALKIDOSCOPB.

In after summers, The Lady of The Lake made other vaca-
tion trips, but never another richer in store of pleasure and
variety of experience than that first one which is now only a
precious memory to those who had the good fortune to partic-
ipate in it.

During the vacation, Don had many an hour in which his
old air castle habits asserted themselves with redoubled power.
Indeed in the whole of his after life, he was seldom content
with piling up mere wood and brick and stone according to the
rules of the prevailing forms of architecture. He was not
averse to hard pan, but as a general thing, he had a strong
preference for Dreamland ; and the castles he shaped there were
far more to his mind than any he could shape on earth. True,
they appeared only to disappear, and many of the appoint-
ments of his imagination proved but disappointments to his
hopes. Nevertheless, though bright clouds changed into grey,
and sublime airy shapes became transformed into shreds of
vapory rags or fragile tracery that only served to cob-web the
blue sky, minature globes of moisture were distilled from them
that made the earth the richer for their descent.

Much to his own surprise, Don finally found himself in the
pulpit. Doctor Beecher, his prudent and steadfast friend,
urged him to preach a trial sermon in his desk.

"I, preach a trial sermon in a pulpit where first and last all

..--^ /':.;- (331) , -y- :;. .

;

Ilil>p » Wji;^f i iii ii i;w ! ti.»i|ti(pi ..jyi'wyji.ny.w

332

AIR CASTLE DON

the men of the Beecher family, from the father down to the
youngest son, have preached?" Don exclaimed with astonish-
ment. "And would you tempt me to preach a trial sermon in
Boston where there are so many great men and grand preach-
ers? The very thought would be the essence of temerity.
No; I'll go down home, and if I really do get courage enough
to preach a trial sermon, I'll try it upon the country people.
In any event, it will be a great trial to them as well as to
myself."

Although the good doctor smiled benevolently and urged
strenuously, he failed to turn Don from either his opinion or
his purpose.

When he descended from the bird's nest pulpit which hung
near the ceiling of the meeting house where his first sermon
was preached, it was with such shame and confusion of face
that it seemed as though all the air castles he had ever dreamed
of had been demolished and the remains packed in the skin
of a mustard seed.

While vainly endeavoring to retreat from the valley of his
humiliation, Peter Piper, who had returned to his old haunts
with all his old habits, met him with the words : "And ye shall
go forth, and grow up as the calves of the stall. See Malachi
fourth and second. Ye are but a calf o' a preacher now, lad,
but accoordin' to that Scripture there's a chance for ye to grow
into a regular roarin' bull o' Bashan."

On reaching home his mother corrected him for saying
first, of the first head of his sermon, instead of firstly. An
elder brother, who had survived the ordeal of his own trial-
sermon, chided hir.i for using the word analogy, saying that
such a word could neither be intelligently used by the speaker
nor understood by the people. Three younger brothers
frankly declared that they themselves could have excelled the

3i^^mi§M

!, .•n,.imiimiiijii««^

i ;. H,"« "■j l iMm) '^jl JHyi H — ' 1' i a fm [ ■j umumnn jliii . iuj i , i ; | . ii i ;y 5^iBi ii »n ii lnn i | i ff i iHl , 11 m 'l/imf^'^mf^flim-tmmifymm^-mf^fp^rr^mminf^

tr down to the
with astonish-
trial sermon in
I grand preach-
ce of temerity,
ourage enough
;ountry people.
1 as well as to

ntly and urged
his opinion or

Ipit which hung
lis first sermon
infusion of face
d ever dreamed
ced in the skin

he valley of his
his old haunts
"And ye shall
1. See Malachi
acher now, lad,
; for ye to grow

him for saying
of firstly. An
»f his own trial-
gy, saying that
by the speaker
jnger brothers
ive "ixcelled the

AIR CASTLE DON

383

sermon by a number of degrees. His only sister reproved him
for making a sweat spout of his chin when he might have
removed the moisture by timely applications of a handkerchief,
which she herself had carefully placed in the right pocket of his
coat. His father, the pastor of the flock, remained eloquently
silent, and for this Don was profoundly thankful, for he knew
that he might have opened his mouth and spoken terrible
things in righteousness.

What his oi.l schoolmates and the people thought of his
first efifort, Don never cared nor dared to learn, but what he
thought of himself, and it, is sealed with seven seals. Many
years afterward Doctor Beecher tried to elicit an account of
his emotions on the occasion of his first clerical flight— or more
correctly speaking, his first clerical descent — but the seven
seals remained unbroken even to him, the best advisor he ever
had. The most vital movements of the body are concealed
from view, and the same holds true of some of the adverse
experiences of life which deposit the successive layers of
human character.

Three rather strange things happened in connection with
Don's clerical career. A time came when he preached inside
of that church edifice where outside the main entrance he for-
merly lay penniless and sick in order to shield himself from
the drenching rain that added honors to the forlornness of his
night. A time came also when he occupied the desk of Tre-
mont Temple, where he had once been compelled to make his
midnight lodging in a dry-goods box in the attic of the build-
ing. The sexton who discovered him in that position was still
alive when Don stood in the desk, and was woefully perplexed
by the quickly discovered resemblance between the looks and
voice of the speaker and the looks and tones of the lad whom

■^

'■'^

'rt'^

»rti -...:»-

r a 'Vt '- 'J g g ' g' , r > r ,. -n , B S. -] ; K„-y j» i - jw <^ ^t y,- .-!

334

AIR CASTLE DON

he found dreamily murmuring in his sleep fragments of lessons
learned in a pious home. " :^

In these two instances the audiences were at liberty to go
or stay, but the third audience to be mentioned in illustration
of the revolutions of the wheel of life, was spell bound; it could
not turn its back on the speaker for the reason that the hearers
were penitentiary convicts in The Charlestown State Prison.
Among the convicts listening to Don's sermon were four 'long-
time' men, prematurely old, and with every vicious trait of
their characters becoming more and more legibly written in
their crime-hardened countenances with every passing year.
Two of these men were the thieves who burglarized the Von-
berg house, and who v/ere convicted in consequence of Don's
discovery of them in Copp's Hill Burying Ground. The other
two were the men concerned in Don's subsequent abduction.
The recognition was mutual. The preacher pitied them, but
they would have killed him without hesitation had circum-
stances favored the execution of their vengeance. There
comes a time in the destiny of men when, because of the invinc-
ible force of habit it must be said: "He that is unjust, let him
be unjust still; and he that is righteous, let him be righteous
still."

But to turn to less serious things. The Lady of The Lake,
after having been in commission as a pleasure craft for several
years, was turned over to Father Taylor, who converted her
into a floating reading room for the benefit of the sailors. A
September gale of wind that was no respector of vessels finally
wrested her from her fastenings and hurled her against the
stone dock of The Charlestown Navy Yard with such" ruthless
force that, like The One Hoss Shay, she crumbled into nothing
and vanished away.

'^^U^''-^yi^i-^iii0,

ments of lessons

at liberty to go
d in illustration
bound; it could
that the hearers
m State Prison,
were four 'long-
vicious trait of
gibly written in
•y passing year,
larized the Von-
quence of Don's
und. The other
juent abduction,
pitied them, but
ion had circum-
ngeance. There
use of the invinc-
is unjust, let him
lim be rigliteous

idy of The Lake,
craft for several
10 converted her
f the sailors. A
of vessels finally
her against the
ith suclv ruthless
sled into nothing

ri •-»

AIR CASTLE DON

Several of the original members of The Lady of The Lake
Club are still alive.

"Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife,
Their sober wishes never learned to stray; "
Along the cool, sequestered vale of life

They kept the noiseless tenor of their way."

One of them, Arnold Doane, wandered far and saw much,
but with the great longing of a tender nature he returned to
the scenes of his youth, where by his own ingleside he
musingly recalls the words that were more than once recited
or read in the cabin of The Lady of The Lake:

"The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Power,

And all that Beauty, all that Wealth e'er gave.
Await, alike, th' inevitable hour;

The paths of Glory lead but to the grave."

"Time has taught me many wholesome lessons and has
weeded from my heart many noxious things," said The Rev.
John Paul Lovejoy with deep sincerity to Don, whom he had
met at a great religious convention. "It has taught me that I
did a great wrong when I turned you from my door so impa-
tiently, and has weeded from my heart that selfish pride which
made me more ambitious of preaching great sermons than of
helping the poor and the needy."

Don looked at the veteran with brimming eyes and
responding heartily and forgivingly, said: "Now that I am in
the ministry myself, I realize what temptations focalize them-
selves upon the pulpit. And there, if anywhere, one should
sincerely pray: Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us
from evil. Your present disposition makes ample amends for
any mistakes you may have formerly committed."

"If they could be amended as easily as you forgive them I

%-M

■*r

'ii

Tipwr?

336

AIR CASTLE DON

should experience less pain whenever I see you or hear your
name mentioned," he sadly replied. "Every mistake is a nail
driven; we may withdraw the nail, but we cannot efface the
mark it leaves."

A very handsome and elegantly dressed M)ung woman
standing near seemed to be waiting for the conversation to end,
seeing which both men paused.

"I must apologize for interrupting you," she said, address-
ing Don, "yet I cannot refrain from speaking to you, for I am
the eldest daughter of that family you saved from freezing and
starving to death during the great snow storm. Thanks for
your timely aid and subsequent fidelity we have prospered ever
since. This is my husband, who is with me, and he wishes me
to introduce him to you."

McElwin, the husband, a delegate to the convention, and a
fine looking fellow, joined his wife in her acknowledgements,
and begged him to make their house his home while he was in
Providence.

Doctor Lovej»5y could not but hear the conversation; and
that which was the occasion of supreme satisfaction to Don,
was a painful reminder to himself. Don was finding the bread
he had cast upon the waters in his youth, while the Doctor,
havinr^ sown so sparingly, was reaping nothing but the thistles
of regret.

The three days Don spent with the McElwins in no wise
diminished the satisfaction he experienced when they first
acknowledged their indebtedness to him, although he took
good care to let tlicm know that but for the noble people who
stood back of him he could not have rendered the substantial
aid he did.

"But," said Mrs. McElwin, "if you had not braved that
storm, I should not be here to-day, for when you entered our

AIIl 0A8TLB DON

837

you or hear your

mistake is a nail

cannot efface the

;d young woman
nversation to end,

she said, address-
T to you, for I am
from freezing and
orm. Thanks for
ive prospered ever

and he wishes me

convention, and a
cknowledgements,
ne while he was in

conversation; and
itisfaction to Don,
s finding the bread

while the Doctor,
ing but the thistles

;Elwins in no wise
d when they first
although he took
: noble people who
red the substantial

d not braved that
;n you entered our

room, the deadly numbness which precedes freezing was
already stealing through my veins. And notwithstanding my
efforts to keep my sisters covered, they also complained of the
symptoms that were seizing me."

Her father was doing well, and with his family also lived in
Providence. Don visited them with the daughter and received
a welcome that was as warm as the fire that he started with the
bundle of tracts on the day of his first visit.

"I have often laughed at the zeal with which you distributed
your tracts in that stove," he said, alluding to the incident,
"but am always sobered by the thought that, after all, they
wrought the salvation that my family and I stood most in need
of at that moment. We were saved as by fire literally; two
hours more and we should have frozen to death."

"Yes, I have already told him that," said his daughter.

"Well, it can't be told too often," remarked Amelie, the
second daughter. "The saving of seven lives in one day ought
to have secured for Mr. Donalds a medal of gold."

"I have already received more than gold can measure,"
Don responded. "Success in helping our fellow beings is its
own best reward." And as he spoke he recalled Bert's objec-
tions to his going forth on that eventful morning, and his con-
fessions when informed of what had been done.

And now it is time to say that Bert married Dorothy Von-
berg and finally removed to Chicago, the Chicago which he
had always thought of with fear and trembling, and spoken of
with the most depreciating words he could cull from his vocab-
ulary. He has a book establishment of his own in the city and
firmly believes that sooner or later Chicago will become the
literary center of the United States. He is as extravagant in
his praise of The Western Metropolis as he formerly was in
its disparagement. And whether the temperature be hot or

■■.'A

Vi4f

888

AIR OASTLB DON

cold, and the air currents calm or cyclonic, he maintains
against all comers that there is no place like Chicago. He
even goes so far as to say that her stock-yards and elevators,
and her cliflf buildings, parks and boulevards are the wonders
of the world, while the hearts of her citizens are as big as her
Ferris Wheel, and as nimble as the highest grade bicycle.
Dorothy shares his enthusiasm, and when her father, the
major, accompanied by Colonel Wickworth and his wife, vis-
ited her on Sylvan avenue, they, highly seasoned Bostonians
though they were, quite readily conceded that Chicago was by
no means the worst city in the world.

"Colonel Wickworth and his wife!" exclaims the reader.
"How did that superannuated old bachelor happen to get
married?"

By taking Bert's mother to Don with a license made out in
due form, and having The Reverend Don Donalds unite them
according to rites and ceremonies made and provided for such
emergencies. He began his journey towards matrimony by
visiting Don in the first place, and continued it by visiting the
widow, in the second place; and completed it by taking her
and going to Don, as aforesaid. Old as they were, Don per-
formed the ceremony with great satisfaction, for he knew that
two hearts which had showered unstinted kindness upon him
would not be lacking in kindness toward each other.
Besides, he had performed the ceremony for Professor Kras-
inski and his bride, the daughter of his friend. Deacon Snow:
and why, therefore, should he not rejoice to do the same for the
colonel and the widow?

Gipsy's satisfaction arising from the union was palatably
seasoned by the reflection, that, how that her mother and the
colonel were one, neither Miss Agincourt nor Deacon Wick-
worth, in the event of the colonel's departure for another

-y..-v5

ic, he maintains
ce Chicago. He
ds and elevaloi-s,
arc the wonders
are as big as her
t grade bicycle,
her father, the
ind his wife, vis-
oned Bostonians
; Chicago was by

aims the reader.
• happen to get

ense made out in
maids unite them
)rovided for such
is matrimony by
it by visiting the
it by taking her
(T were, Don per-
for he knew that
ridness upon him
ird each other.
Professor Kras-
i, Deacon Snow:
> the same for the

Dn was palatably
r mother and the
)r Deacon Wick-
ture for another

AIB 0A8TLB DON

889

world, before they were ready to go, could by even the most
sanguine stretch of expectation hope to derive benefit from VU
demise. In her judgment it was poetically just that Don, who
had suffered so much through their instrumentality, should
perform the ceremony which turned their hopes into despair.
Bert sympathized with her views and so did Dorothy and the
major and his two sons, Wilhelm and Werner. Jf, in some
instances variety is the spice of life, in others unanimity is the
wine, for even Don himself chuckled when he thought of Ara-
bella's and the deacon's chagrin and disappointment.

But the reader is waiting for the announcement of the
union of Don and Gipsy in tho bonds of matrimony. That
announcement cannot be made because it did not take place.

What! Not married? Did they not love each other?
Yes, certainly. Did they not kiss each other? Yes, but only
on two occasions. Did not Gipsy throw herself into Don's
arms when Hannah Screechum was supposed to be in camp?
Yes; but she got out of them as soon as it was known that the
bell-ringing and weird laughter and ghostly shrieks were all
owing to the struggles of an unromantic shark whose love of
raw beef had gotten him into a peck of trouble.

But they did not marry each other for three good reasons.
Their love began too early, and consequently they outgrew it
as boys and girls outgrow their knickerbockers and their short
dresses. The everlasting loves ot callow youth are apt to
prove the neverlasting crudities of mere sentimental impulse —
the morning cloud and early dew which vanish away under the
rays of the rising sun of the maturer life.

The second reason was that Gipsy became a teacher in a
fimale seminary; and teachers in female seminaries get to be
« o good and learned that they dry up and are blown away. At

msmmm

warn

wmm

AtB OASTLB DON

any rate, after Gipsy went into the seminary, Don lost sight #f
her altogether.

And in the last place, as the preacher says, and generally to
the great relief of his listeners, Don married another — a daugh-
ter of the man whose family he had been the means of saving
from starvation and death — ^the sister of Mrs. McElwins, whose
beauty, modesty, amiability all blending with an indescribable
piquancy of character captured him in enduring bonds while
he was at her father's house in Providence.

But here we must end, for their love for each other is
another story. * :— '

THE END.

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