fl&! 
 
 ii 
 
 
UjvNjc)ouv<Y>x>ocUAXxi3u 
 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNDERGRADUATE UBRARY 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS2414.W56 1905 
 
 When all the woods are green :a novel /b 
 
 3 1924 014 324 200 
 
 
 '^m^ipE 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 CAVLOnO 
 
 ^SviU.? 
 
 k HU' VK, 
 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
I Cornell University 
 ^ Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924014324200 
 
"MISS LYNDSAY PUT A HAND ON HIS SHOULDER. 
 
autbor's Definitive E&ition 
 
 WHEN ALL THE WOODS 
 ARE GREEN 
 
 H mopel 
 
 BY 
 
 S. WEIR MITCHELL, M.D. 
 
 LL.D. HARVARD AND EDINBURGH 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE CENTURY CO. 
 
 1905 
 
 . ^'':n. 
 
Copyright, 1894, by 
 The Century Co, 
 
TO 
 
 JOHN L. CADWALADER 
 
 THE FRIEND OF MANY YEARS,— THE 
 
 COMPANION OF MANY SUMMERS 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 3 HE niglit of smnmer comes late in 
 this north land. Although it was 
 nearly nine o'clock, the shadows, 
 long gathering in the valleys and 
 the woods, had but just now over- 
 flowed onto the broad levels of the 
 river. Above was hurry of low-lying clouds, through 
 which swift star-gleams seemed to flit, like the mo- 
 mentaiy beacons of the rare fireflies along the shore. 
 Far away the shriek of a departing train broke the 
 general stillness and rang fainter and more faint in 
 wUd variety of tones among the farther hUls. 
 
 On the bank of this wide Canadian river, a little 
 above the margin, stood under the yet dripping trees 
 a group of diverse people, but all of one household. 
 Travel-weary and silent, for a time they looked down 
 on the dimly lit stream, and heard, as they waited, the 
 murmur and hum of its waters, or, with eyes as yet 
 unused to the gloom, strove to see the group of men 
 about the boats on the beach below them. 
 " This way, Margaret," said a man's cheerful voice; 
 1 1 
 
S WhM all TflE WOODS AEB GBEEN 
 
 " take care ; there is my arm, dear. How delightful 
 to see the old river ! " 
 
 The night was so dark that Lyndsay hesitated as he 
 stood on the verge. 
 
 " What is it ? " said his wife. 
 
 " I do not quite like to go up to-night in this depth 
 of darkness. Do you think it quite safe, Polyearp ? 
 Can you see?" 
 
 " Not very well," said the guide, " but soon break; 
 and have heap moon." 
 
 "I think we must risk it, my dear. You will go 
 with me." Then he said a word of caution to the 
 guides, and called to the boys, "Come, Dicky, and 
 you, Jackums." They ran down the slope in haste 
 and stood a little, made quiet for once in their noisy 
 lives, but interested, alert, and peering through the 
 darkness. 
 
 " Is that you, Tom and Ambrose ? How are you 
 all? and Pierre — have you kept me a big salmon?" 
 
 He shook hands with each of the guides, having a 
 gay word of kindly remembrance for all in turn. 
 Meanwhile the sister of the boys came down to the 
 canoes, made silent, like the children, by the night, the 
 pervasive stillness, and the novelty of the situation. 
 
 " Baggage gone up, Pierre ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Lyndsay ; everything is right, — and the 
 salmon thick as pine-needles. The small traps are all 
 in. We might be getting away." 
 
 " Shall the women need their waterproofs, Tom ? " — 
 this to a huge form which loomed large as it moved 
 among the other men, who were busy adjusting the 
 small freight of hand baggage. The voice, when it 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB GREEN 3 
 
 broke out in reply, was, even for a fellow of six feet 
 two, of unproportioned loudness. 
 
 "They won't want none; it 's a-goin' to bust out 
 clear." 
 
 Miss Anne Lyndsay, the maiden aunt of the chil- 
 dren, came down the bank as Thunder Tom replied. 
 Her steps, too feeble for health, were thoughtfully 
 aided by Edward, the youngest boy. To her turned 
 Rose, the niece, a woman of twenty years. 
 
 " Did you ever hear the like ? " 
 
 She felt the queer impropriety of this terrible voice 
 in the solemn stillness which, somehow, adequately 
 suggested the tribute of the bated breath. 
 
 "Won't need no wraps, Miss Lyndsay. Rain 's 
 done. There fell a power of water." 
 
 "What a voice, Aunt Anne!" said Rose. "It 's 
 like the boom of the sea." 
 
 "He explodes, — he does n't speak; a conversa- 
 tional cannonade." 
 
 "Hush," said Mrs. Ljmdsay, the mother; "he is 
 quite sensitive about it. He was with us last year, 
 and a very good man, too, as I know." 
 
 " Canoe is ready, sir." 
 
 " It is hke a parting salute," said Rose. 
 
 " Well, my dear," whispered Miss Anne, " it will be 
 a fine reminder for a certain person ; aU things have 
 their uses." 
 
 " Thanks, Aunt Anne. A certain person has a not 
 uncertain consciousness that she does n't need it. 
 Folks complain that we women speak too loud. I am 
 sure our men have lost their voices. As for the Eng- 
 lish women you admire so much, I could hardly un- 
 
4 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 derstand tliem at all, with their timid, thin voices, 
 and fat a's." 
 
 " Stuff ! " said Miss Anne. " That is English." 
 
 " I prefer Shakspere's English," said Rose. " I ad- 
 vise them to read ' Love's Labor 's Lost.' " 
 
 " That is our old battle-field, Rose. But you would 
 have to be consistent, and I do assure you, if you 
 talked as Shakspere talked, you would make a sen- 
 sation." 
 
 "Come, adjourn that skirmish," said Archibald 
 Lyndsay, who had been rearranging the canoeloads. 
 
 Then the voice, to which others were as whispers, 
 roared : 
 
 " Who 's for where, Mr. Lyndsay 1 " 
 
 "All right. Tom, your voice is really getting 
 broken. Come, Margaret, — this way deai'." 
 
 " It 's so," said Tom. " I kin speak bigger if I try," 
 — this to Miss Lyndsay, apologetically, as he aided 
 her into the boat. " Pact is, Miss, I was twins, like 
 them boys, and Bill he died. He had n't no voice to 
 count on. It 's main useful when you 're drivin' 
 logs." 
 
 "What a baby he must have been in a quiet 
 family ! " whispered Anne to Rose and Ned. " Imag- 
 ine it!" 
 
 " I did n't understand what he said. Aunt Anne," 
 remarked the boy. 
 
 " I do not think he quite understood himself. Per- 
 haps he had a vague notion that he had to talk so as 
 to represent the dead brother, ' who had n't no voice 
 to count on.' " 
 
 " I like it," remarked Rose. " Yes, papa." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 5 
 
 "This way," said Ljoidsay; "here, Margaret, in 
 my canoe." 
 
 " Conld I have Ned with me, brother ? " asked Miss 
 Anne. 
 
 "Certainly. Here, in this canoe, not the birch. 
 This one, — now, so, with your face up the river, and 
 you, Ned, — yes, on the cushion on the bottom." 
 
 " How comfortable !" said Anne, as she leaned back 
 on a board set at a slope against the seat. 
 
 "And now, Margaret, — you and I, together with 
 Pierre and — Halloa there, Gemini! Oh, you are in 
 the birch already. No nonsense, now ! No larking ! 
 These birches turn over like tumbler-pigeons." 
 
 " You, dear," — to Rose, — " you are to go with Poly- 
 carp and Ambrose. By yourself, my child ? Yes." 
 
 There was a special note of tenderness in his voice 
 as he spoke. 
 
 " How is that, Rosy Posy?" 
 
 "DeUghtfid! How well you know! And I did 
 want to be alone, — just to-night, — for a little whUe." 
 
 "Yes." As he released her hand he kissed her. 
 " Now, away with you." In a few moments the little 
 fleet was off, and the paddles were splashing jets of 
 white out of the deep blackness of the stream. By 
 degrees the canoes fell apart. Despite the parental 
 warning, the twins had secured paddles, and were more 
 or less competently aiding their men, so that soon they 
 were far ahead. 
 
 Lyndsay chatted with his guides of the salmon, and 
 of his luggage and stores, sent up the day before. 
 Aunt Anne and her favorite Ned were silent for a 
 time; but the boy's glance roamed restlessly from sky 
 
6 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB GEEEN 
 
 to stream, and up over the great dim hills. At last 
 he said : 
 
 " Hark, Aunt Anne ; how loud things sound at 
 night!" 
 
 " Them 's the rapids," said Tom, in tones that made 
 Miss Lyndsay start. " Them 's a mile away." 
 
 " I suppose, Ned, that when all one's other senses 
 are more or less unused, the ear may hear more dis- 
 tinctly ; at all events, what you say is true, I think. If 
 I want to hear veiy plainly, I am apt to shut my eyes 
 — good music always makes me do that." 
 
 "That 's so," said John. He considered himself 
 quite free to have his share in the talk. " When I 'm 
 caUin' moose, I most alius shuts my eyes to listen to 
 them trumpetiu' back. Dory Maybrook was a-sayin' 
 that same thing las' Toosday a week. "We was a-settin' 
 out by her wood-pUe. An' she sat there a-thiuMn'. 
 An' says she, 'It 's cur'ous how you can hear things at 
 night.' Jus' like you said. Hiram he was a-choppin'." 
 
 "Who is Dory Maybrook ? " said Ned. 
 
 " Well, she 's Dory Maybrook ; she 's Hiram's wife. 
 Hiram 's her husband," and he laughed, — laughed as 
 he talked, so that the noise of it boomed across the 
 wide waters. 
 
 Again for a while they were silent, asking no more 
 questions. The aunt was wondering what could have 
 given big Tom his overpowering voice, and how it 
 would affect one to live with such an organ. She 
 turned it over in her mind in all its droller aspects, 
 imagining Tom making love, or at his sonorous devo- 
 tions, for to Anne Lyndsay there were few things in 
 life remote from the possibility of humorous relation. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 7 
 
 Twice the boy asked if she were comfortable, or 
 warm enough, and, reassured, fell back into the pos- 
 session of the deepening night and the black water, 
 whence, suddenly, here and there, flashed something 
 white through the blackness, like, as the lad thought, 
 the snowy wings of the turning sea-gulls he had seen 
 over the St. Lawrence at break of day. 
 
 In the other canoe, far behind and out of sight, 
 Rose Lyndsay lay, propped against the baggage, in 
 delicious contentment of mind and body. It was a 
 vast and satisfying change from the completed civili- 
 zations of the world of Europe, where for a year she 
 had wandered with Anne Lyndsay. Three weeks be- 
 fore the evening on which begins my tale, she was in 
 London, and now she was greeted with a sudden 
 sense of emancipation from the world of convention- 
 alities. Neither father nor mother was exclusively 
 represented in this happily fashioned womanhood. 
 And thus it was that her iuherited qualities so modi- 
 fied one another that people missed the resemblances, 
 and said only that she was like none of her people. 
 
 Nevertheless, she had her father's taste and capacity 
 for seeing accurately and enjoying the simple uses of 
 observation, with also, in a measure, what he some- 
 what lacked — the aunt's unending joy in aU humor; 
 sharing with her the privilege of finding a smile or a 
 laugh where others, who lack this magic, can only 
 conjure sadness. She saw with mental directness, and, 
 where her affections were not concerned, acted without 
 the hesitations which perplex the inadequate thinker. 
 
 Her aunt, to whom she bore some resemblance in 
 face, had learned much in a life of nearly constant 
 
8 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 sickness, but never the power to restrain her fatal in- 
 cisiveness of speech. She could hurt herself with it 
 as well as annoy others, as she well knew. But in 
 her niece, keenness of perception and large sense of 
 the ridiculous were put to no critical uses. The sim- 
 ple kindliness of her mother was also hers. 
 
 At times in life permanent qualities of mind vary in 
 the importance of the use we make of them. Rose 
 was now in the day of questions. Everything inter- 
 ested her : an immense curiosity sharpened her natu- 
 rally acute mental vision ; an eloquently imaginative 
 nature kept her supplied with endless queries. The 
 hour of recognized limitations had not yet struck for 
 her. Now she set the broad sails of a willing mood, 
 and gave herself up to the influences of the time and 
 place. Deep darkness was about her. The sky 
 seemed to be low above her. The dusky hUls ap- 
 peared to be close at hand on each side. The water 
 looked, as it rose to left and right, as though the 
 sky, the waves, the hiUs were crowding in upon her, 
 and she, sped by rhythmic paddles, was flitting through 
 a lane of narrowing gloom. 
 
 The impression I describe, of being walled in at 
 night by water, hill, and sky, is familiar to the more 
 sensitive of those who are wise enough to find their 
 holiday by wood and stream. The newness of the 
 sensation charmed the girl. Then in turn came to 
 her the noise of the greater rapids, as, after two hours, 
 the river became more swift. 
 
 Twice she had spoken; but twice the dark guide 
 had made clear to her that he needed all his wits 
 about him, and once he had altogether failed to an- 
 swer her or, perhaps, to hear at aU. But now the 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 9 
 
 clouds began to break, and the night became clear, so 
 that all objects were more easily discernible. "Is 
 your name Polycarp ? " she said, at last, turning as she 
 sat to look back at the impassive figure in the stern. 
 
 " I 'm Polycarp," said the Indian. 
 
 " What is that I hear ? Of course I hear the rapids, 
 but — it is Uke voices and — and — laughter. Is it only 
 the rapids? How strange! Could you — just stop 
 paddling a moment?" 
 
 The paddles were silent, and she listened. The 
 sounds came and went, mysteriously rising, falling, or 
 changing, despite the absence of wiad, as they drifted 
 downward when the paddles no longer moved. Mr. 
 Lyndsay's canoe overtook them. "What is it?" he 
 called. " Anything wrong ? " 
 
 " No, no ! I wanted to hear the rapids. They seem 
 like voices." 
 
 "Ask me about that to-morrow," said her father, 
 " but push on now. We shall be late enough." 
 
 Again the paddles fell, and her canoe slid away into 
 the ever-deepening night. Of a sudden her trance of 
 thought was broken, and over the waters from the 
 twins came snatches of song, bits of Scotch ballads, 
 familiar in this household. At last she smiled and 
 murmured, " The scamps ! " They were caroling the 
 song with which they had been fond of mocking her 
 in her girlhood. 
 
 " There are seven fair flowers in yon green wood, 
 In a busli in the woods o' Lyndsaye ; 
 
 There are seven braw flowers an' ae bonny bud, 
 Oh! the bonniest flower in Lyndsaye. 
 
 An' weel love I the bonny, bonny rose — 
 The bonny, bonny Eose-a-Lyndsaye ; 
 
10 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GKBEN 
 
 An' I '11 Wg my 'bower o' the forest boughs, 
 An' I '11 dee in the green woods o' Lyndsaye. 
 
 " Her face is like the evenin' lake, 
 
 That the birk or the willow fringes, 
 Whose peace the wild wind eanna break, 
 
 Or but its beauty changes. 
 An' she is aye my bonny, bonny rose. 
 
 She 's the bonny young Kose-a-Lyndsaye ; 
 An' ae blink of her e'e wad be dearer to me 
 
 Than the wale o' the lands o' Lyndsaye." 
 
 The voices rang clear a moment, and then were lost, 
 and heard anew, without seeming cause for the break. 
 Then came a fresh snatch of song : 
 
 " Come o'er the stream, Charlie, 
 Braw Charlie, brave Charlie; 
 Come o'er the stream, Charlie, 
 And dine with MoClain.'' 
 
 As she listened and caught the wilder notes of Bur- 
 nieboozle, they fell into the orchestral oppositions of 
 the rapids, and died to the ear amid the cry and crash 
 and hoarse noises of the broken waters. 
 
 Rose saw the men rise and take their poles, and felt 
 amidst the beautiful dim vision of white wave-crests 
 how the frail canoe quivered as it was driven up the 
 watery way. 
 
 Then they kept to the shore under the trees, the 
 poles monotonously ringing, with ever around her, 
 coming and going, that delicious odor of the spruce, 
 richest after rain, which to smell in the winter, amid 
 the roar of the city, brings to the wood-farer the 
 homesickness of the distant forest. Her dreamy 
 mood once broken was again disturbed by that rare 
 speaker, the silent Polycarp. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GBBEN 11 
 
 " I smell camp." 
 
 "What! "she said. 
 
 "Yes — very good smell — when bacon fry — smell 
 him long away — two mile." 
 
 " I smell it," she said. " How strange ! " 
 
 "SmeU fry long way — smell baccy not so far. 
 Smell Mr. Lyndsay pipe little while back." 
 
 And now far ahead she saw lights, and started as 
 the Indian smote the water with the flat of his paddle, 
 making a loud sound, which came back in altered notes 
 from the hills about them. 
 
 " Make 'em hear at camp." 
 
 Presently she was at the foot of a little cliff, where 
 the twins were already noisily busy. 
 
 " Halloa, Rose ! Can you see ? " 
 
 " Yes, Jack." 
 
 " Is n't it joUy ? Give me a hand." 
 
 "No, me." 
 
 " This beats Columbus," said the elder lad. " Take 
 care, Spices " — this to the younger twin, who, by reason 
 of many freckles, was known in the household, to his 
 disgust, as the Cinnamon Bear, Cinnamon, Spices, or 
 Bruin, as caprice dictated. 
 
 "I 'U punch your red head, Rufus," cried the lad. 
 " You just wait, Ruby." 
 
 " Boys ! boys ! " said Rose. " Now each of you give 
 me a hand. Don't begin with a quarrel." 
 
 "It is n't a quarrel; it 's a row," said Jack. 
 
 "Adistinctionnotwithoutadifference,"laughedRose. 
 " Oh, here is everybody." And with jest and laughter 
 they climbed the steps cut in the cliff, and gaily entered 
 the cabin which was to be their home for some weeks. 
 
12 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AiJE GEEEN 
 
 There was a large, low-raftered room, covered with 
 birch-bark of many tints. On each side were two 
 chambers, for the elders. The boys, to their joy, were 
 to sleep in tents on the bluff, near to where the tents 
 of the guides were pitched, a little away from the 
 cabin, and back of a roaring camp-fire. Behind the 
 house a smaller cabin sufficed for a kitchen, and in 
 the log-house, where also a fire blazed in ruddy wel- 
 come, not ungrateful after the coolness of the river, 
 the supper-table was already set. As Eose got up 
 from table, after the meal, she missed her mother, and, 
 taking a shawl, went out onto the porch which sur- 
 rounded the house on aU. sides. 
 
 For a moment, she saw only the upward flare of the 
 northern lights, and then, presently, Mrs. Lyndsay, 
 standing silent on the bluff, with a hand on Ned's 
 shoulder, looking across the river. Rose quietly laid 
 the shawl over her mother's shoulders, and caught her 
 hand. Mrs. Lyndsay said, " Thank you, dear Rose, but 
 I want to be alone a httle. I shall come in very soon." 
 They went without a word, meeting their father just 
 within the door. " Mother sent us in," said Rose. 
 
 " I understand," and he also turned back. " It is 
 Harry! It is about Harry." 
 
 " Yes, it is Harry," repeated Rose ; for the year be- 
 fore Mrs. Lyndsay had left a little weakly fellow, her 
 youngest, in the rude burial-ground of the small 
 Methodist church, some miles away, up the stream. 
 She had been alone with Mr. Lyndsay and the child, 
 and it had been her first summer on the river. "When, 
 the next spring, she had proposed to take thither the 
 whole family, her husband had gladly consented. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 RS. LTNDSAY — comely, rosy, in 
 tlie vigor of young middle-life — 
 was the first to welcome the sun, as 
 it came over the hills beyond the 
 river. In the camps was stir of 
 breakfast, and silent, inverted cones 
 of smoke from the fires. Soon Rose, on the edge of 
 the cliff, cried " Good morning ! " and the mother saw 
 the strong, well-built girl come toward her, and had 
 pride in her vigor and sweetness. They kissed, and 
 the mother went in, and Rose back to her maiden 
 meditations. 
 
 She sat down on a camp-stool, and felt that for the 
 first time she had leisure to think. She and her aunt 
 had been met by her father when their steamer came, 
 and amidst incessant questions they had been hurried 
 off into the wilds of New Brunswick. A year away 
 had made for her new possibilities of observation, and 
 now, with surprised interest, she found herself in the 
 center of a household which, assuredly, even to the 
 more experienced, would have seemed peculiar. It 
 was, in fact, more peculiar than odd. There was no 
 eccentricity, but much positive character. This Rose 
 Lyndsay saw as she had never seen it before. The 
 growth of definitely marked natures in the boys struck 
 
14 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 her, the fresh air of a kind of family freedom rare 
 elsewhere; the audacity of the lads' comments, and 
 their easy relations with the father, were things which 
 now she saw anew with more thoughtfully observant 
 eyes. 
 
 It were well to say, however, that it was a republic 
 with sudden probabilities of dictatorship, and that a 
 stranger coming within its circle rarely beheld much 
 of the outspoken fashions and droll appearance of 
 equality which, at times, seemed to disregard the def- 
 erence ordinarily yielded to parental opinion. In 
 fact, there was a comfortable sense of comradeship 
 aU around, which had its values, and with it an affec- 
 tion so strong that the wounds of aU. intellectual dif- 
 ferences, and of the somewhat rare physical contests 
 of the boys, were easily healed by its constancy, and 
 by the father's power to make each see in all the rest 
 their specifically valuable traits. Some things which 
 in other households are looked upon as serious were 
 in this little noticed, — while, as to certain lapses, 
 punishment was apt to be severe enough. 
 
 By and by Ned came out and sat down by Rose. 
 He was the most silent of them all. 
 
 " Well," said Rose, as he kissed her, " is n't it beau- 
 tiful, Ned? Look at the low meadows down below 
 the elms, and the cliffs opposite, and the ynld water ! 
 Don't you love it ? " 
 
 "I think I — I hke it," he replied. "How black 
 the water looks — how wilful it looks — that was 
 what I wanted to say. I tMnJc I like it, Rose. Some- 
 times I don't like things other people like, — I mean 
 grown-up people. I suppose that 's very stupid." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 15 
 
 " No, — oh, no ! " She was struck witli the oddness 
 of some aspects of his mind. " Was that what trou- 
 bled you yesterday, when we were all looking at that 
 great flare of red sunset light, — you would n't speak?" 
 
 " It was beautiful, but — you won't teU, Rose 1! — the 
 Bear and Ruf us would laugh at me, — it was terrible ! " 
 
 She looked aside at him, curious and interested. 
 " I think I understand, and I shall never, never laugh 
 at you, Ned. You must tell me everything." 
 
 "Sometimes I can't," he said. "It is queer, but 
 sometimes I don't want to." He was truthful to a 
 fault, and was of no mind to make unconditional 
 treaties. 
 
 " I understand that, too " ; and then they fell into 
 lighter chat of friends and cousins, until Mr. Lynd- 
 say called "breakfast," from the cabin-door, and they 
 went in. 
 
 The twins were scarcely more than wide-awake 
 enough to settle down to serious work at bread and 
 butter and porridge. The canned mUk they pro- 
 nounced abominable, but soon learned that Mrs. May- 
 brook's cows would furnish a fair supply of their 
 essential diet. Miss Anne came in a little wearily, 
 glad as she moved of the stay of a chair-back and the 
 boys' help, for they aU rose at once. 
 
 " Did you sleep well ? " said Lyndsay. 
 
 " No ; worse than usual." 
 
 " I thought by your smiling you would have had a 
 good night, but your dear old face is a dreadful pur- 
 veyor of fibs. Are you feeling badly to-day ? " 
 
 "Sh — sh — !" she cried, "don't dose me with my- 
 self, Archy ; as that delightful Mrs. Maybrook said to 
 
16 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB GKEEN 
 
 Margaret, 'I do hate to be babied.' Is tbat your tenth 
 corncake, Jack ? " 
 
 "Ninth, aunty, — I have to eat for you and me. 
 I 'm Hke Thunder Tom's voice." 
 
 " That 's the good of being twins, — you can eat for 
 two!" cried Ned. 
 
 "It 's my seventh," said Dick, complacently. "I 
 would n't be such a Gr. I. P. as Jack." 
 
 " Sudden death is what he will get," returned Dick. 
 
 " Your seventh," said Anne. " But how can one die 
 better than facing fearful odds?" And then there 
 was a little moment of laughter, and the gay chatter 
 went on. At last Mr. Lyndsay said: 
 
 " When you are through, boys, with this astounding 
 breakfast, we will talk of our plans. Your mother 
 wants to go up the river. She shall have the two 
 Gasp6 men. Rose, you will go with me for a first 
 lesson in salmon-fishing, and you three boys shall go 
 with Polycarp after trout. Lunch at one; and re- 
 member, boys, no nonsense in the canoe, mind. This 
 water is too cold and too swift to trifle with. You 
 are a pretty bad lot, but I should not like to have to 
 choose which I would part with. As Marcus AureHus 
 said, ' Grirls make existence difficult, but boys make it 
 impossible.' " 
 
 " Who ? What ? " cried Rose. 
 
 "That was because of Master Commodus," said 
 Ned. 
 
 " I 'd like to have hoked him," remarked Jack, whose 
 remedial measures were always combative. 
 
 " He was not a nice boy, like me," said Dick with a 
 grin. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEBN 17 
 
 "Like who? I hope he spoke Latin with decent 
 correctness. Out with you ! " 
 
 " I had almost forgotten about Marc. Aurelius, aunt," 
 said Rose, aside. " I was really taken in for a moment." 
 
 It was a family fiction, and stUl a half belief, that 
 Archibald Lyndsay would some day publish a great 
 commentary on the famous emperoi-'s philosophy; 
 meanwhUe it served a variety of humorous purposes. 
 
 " J shall provide myself with a book and sunshine," 
 said Miss Anne, " and then with a good field-glass, I 
 shall own the world, — mental and physical." 
 
 " But are the books unpacked ? " said Rose. 
 
 " No, but I have all I want. I must go and see." 
 
 Rose set out a lounging-chau* on the porch, put be- 
 side it a foot-stool and a rude little table, made by a 
 guide, and following her aunt to her room, came back 
 laughing with an arm-load of books. Archibald Lynd- 
 say smiled. 
 
 " No wonder that man at St. Lambert's groaned over 
 Anne's trunk." 
 
 " That delightful man ! " cried Rose, "who checked 
 baggage, switched the trains off and on, sold tickets, 
 answered questions, and did the work of three and 
 laughed for six. He told papa 'he guessed he was n't 
 no Canadian. Not much ! Had to go down to York 
 State once a year to eat pumpkin-pie and get sot up — 
 kind of.'" 
 
 " He was of the best type of our people," said Lynd- 
 say. " Come, Rose ; Anne appears to be reasonably 
 supplied." 
 
 "I should think so, papa. But I must see, — wait 
 a bit." 
 
 2 
 
18 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE &EEEN 
 
 " Oh ! " he exclaimed, picking the books up in turn, 
 " ' Massillon,' ' Feuchtersleben,' what a name! 'Di- 
 etetics of the Soul/ what a droll business ! The Mys- 
 tery of Pain, my poor Anne ! ' History of the Council 
 of Trent,' good gracious ! " 
 
 At this moment his sister reappeared. " Are you 
 supplied for the morning Anne ? Past risk of famine, 
 eh!" 
 
 " Not too heavily," she said. " You know what Mar- 
 cus Aurelius says about books. 'There is nothing as eco- 
 nomical as a bad memory, because then there ariseth 
 no need to buy many books.' That is my ease." 
 
 " Then this is all," laughed Lyndsay, pointing with 
 his pipe-stem to the table. "Hum! Well, well! 
 Come, Eose." 
 
 "Yes, go!" cried Anne, seating herself, "and takt 
 with you Epictetus. 'If that which is of another's 
 life perplex thy judgment, go a-fishing, — for there 
 thou shall find more innocent uncertainties, and will 
 capture the whale wisdom, if thou takest nothing else.' 
 You may recall the passage. Carp might have been 
 the fish. Eh, Archie ? " 
 
 "Stuff and nonsense!" cried her brother, as they 
 turned away. " Anne gets worse day by day, Rose. 
 Come. Marcus Aurelius, Epictetus, indeed ! " 
 
 As they went down the steps to the bluff, Anne 
 Lyndsay, her thin white hands in her lap, looked after 
 them. Her face was rarely without a smUe ; but, as 
 Rose said truly, "Aunt Anne wears her smiles with a 
 difference." Just now her smile was delicately flavored 
 with a look of satisfied affection. As she looked over 
 river and sun-Ht lulls, a sharp twinge of pain crossed 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 19 
 
 her face, and lier hands shut tight a moment, while the 
 sweat of a brief but overpowering pang wrung from 
 her lips an exclamation. Her life had been physically 
 narrowing for years. As she became less and less 
 able to go here and there, to do this or that, she more 
 and more resolutely broadened the horizon of her 
 mental activities, but, no matter what happened, she 
 continued to snule at or with everything, herself in- 
 cluded. Now she wiped her forehead, and fell to 
 smiling again, looking sharply about her, for this 
 woman immensely disliked to be seen in the rare mo- 
 ments when pain was too emphatic for absolute si- 
 lence. " I wonder why I hate to be seen," she said 
 aloud, being unusually given to soUloquizing ; for, as 
 she Hked to explain, " I have more respect for my own 
 opioion if I say it out. It is easier to disregard the 
 unspoken. I like to think I have the good manners to 
 listen to myself. It does so trouble Archie, and that 
 girl, for a day when I break up. I wonder if that 
 small Spartan had had the perpetual company of his 
 fox, how long he would have gone on without squeal- 
 ing. I know he wriggled," she said, and so fell to 
 laughing, after which she lay back in her chair, waved 
 her handkerchief to Rose, and began to read. 
 
 While the Gasp6 canoe went away up the stream, 
 urged by skilful arms, Archibald Lyndsay and Rose 
 talked merrily. 
 
 " I told those boys to keep their eyes open, and not 
 to come back and tell me they had seen nothing in 
 particular. As for Ned, he is sure to see certain things 
 and not others. He is a dreamer, — oh, worse than 
 ever, my dear, — it grows on him." 
 
20 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 " But his dreams — " 
 
 " Yes, I know. There is always something in them. 
 He seems to me, Rose, too absent-minded for this 
 world's uses. At times he puzzles me. He is the duck 
 in my henbrood." 
 
 " He is pure gold." 
 
 " Yes, but when he comes to be put into current 
 coin, — really, I don't know'. As to Rufus, — Dick, I 
 mean, I hate nicknames, and this family has enough 
 for a directory; you will have six a week, — as to 
 Red-head—" 
 
 Rose laughed. 
 
 "I get no more respect in this household than — " 
 
 " Oh, was that a salmon V A fish, some three feet 
 long, leaped high in air, dripping silver in the sun, 
 and fell with a mighty swash into the glowing waters. 
 
 " Yes ; there 's another ! As to Dick, he sees every- 
 thing, and for questions — you are nothing to him. I 
 wanted to talk to you about them, Rose." 
 
 "And Jack?" 
 
 " Oh, Jack ! Jack wUl do. He hates books, but he 
 also hates defeat, — a first-rate quality. Rose. He is 
 one of the three people I have seen in my life who 
 honestty enjoy peril. That comes from his Uncle 
 Robert. My poor Robin used to laugh when he rode 
 into the hottest fight ! " 
 
 Rose, remembering how the major died at Antietam, 
 was silent. Her father was also quiet for a few mo- 
 ments. 
 
 " That boy must always be fighting somebody. Just 
 now, he and Ned have a standing difficulty about the 
 
WHEN ALL THE "WOODS AEE GREEN 21 
 
 Roundheads and Jacobites. I believe it has cost two 
 black eyes already." 
 
 " How funny ! What do you do about it ? " 
 
 " I ? Nothing. Ned is like a cat for activity, small 
 as he is, and as to an occasional black eye, — well, I 
 don't ask too many questions." 
 
 " But does n't it distress mother ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes, of course ; but so long as they love one 
 another, I find it wise to say little. By and by, dear, 
 when you are married, and have a lot of boys of your 
 own, you will understand the wisdom of knowing 
 when not to see, — when not to ask questions." 
 
 This astounding improbability, of a sudden, struck 
 Eose dumb. Then she said, abruptly, " Who is that 
 away up the river? " 
 
 " Two young Boston men. Are tbey from the island 
 camp, Tom ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Tom, in his great voice. "Mr. 
 EUett, and Mr. — I don't rightly mind me of the otter 
 man's name. Think it 's Oarington." 
 
 " Rather a pretty name," said Rose, — " Carington." 
 
 " Not a New England name, I suspect. Probably 
 Southern. How easily one tells where most of our 
 family names belong, — the older ones, I mean. Oh, 
 there is their camp. See how neat everything is about 
 their tents. Above this point, Rose, there are a few 
 clearings, and the graveyard lies back from the shore, 
 where our Harry is buried. Poor little man ! He was 
 well out of it, Rose, well out of it. We rarely talk of 
 him. Your mother dislikes it. For myself, I Hke 
 better to speak of my dead — and they are many — in a 
 
22 "WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GKEBN 
 
 wholesome way, witlioiit tlie strange reserve which 
 even the best of folks have about their lost ones. 
 However ! " 
 
 " Shall we anchor to the head of the pool, sir ? " said 
 Tom. 
 
 "Yes, yes. And now, Rose, I want first to have 
 you watch me closely, — hand, rod, and line, — and to 
 try to foUow the fly on the water. I promise you to 
 talk enough about the trees and the waters next Sun- 
 day. There are some dead forests above us, on the 
 river, from which I want sketches made ; but now it 
 is the more serious business of the salmon ; ask what 
 you Kke." 
 
 " Well, then, is n't it late to fish ? It is eight o'clock." 
 
 " No ; the salmon is an aristocrat, and rises late. If 
 you want striped bass, the break of day is none too 
 early." 
 
 " But will that thin line — what you call the casting- 
 line — hold a great thing like the fish I saw leap ? " 
 
 " Yes, with the bend and give of this siKteen-foot 
 rod, and the certainty with which these matchless 
 Vom HofE reels work. Look, now, the day is pleas- 
 antly cloudy, the water a little thick, riled, — roily, 
 if you Kke. I think a silver doctor — that 's a fly, 
 see. Rose — wiU do. There, you can look over my 
 fly-book." 
 
 " Well," said Rose, " I am compelled to sympathize 
 with the salmon. Are not our Anglo-Saxon ideas of 
 sport a little hard on birds and flsh 1 " 
 
 "We will adjourn that discussion," said her father, 
 "until you see a salmon. Then we shall know 
 whether your store of pity will hold out." 
 
WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ARE GREEN 23 
 
 The canoe was now anchored in some four feet of 
 strong, broken water. The bowman, with his anchor- 
 rope ready, the stemman, on the bottom of the boat, 
 with his face to the pool, his eye on every cast of the 
 fly. Mr. Lyndsay stood a little back from the center, 
 a fine figure. Rose thought, taU, strong, ruddy, with a 
 face clean-shaven, except for side- whiskers. At first 
 he cast his fly near to the canoe, left and right in suc- 
 cession, and giving the rod a slight motion, kept the 
 fly moving down-stream until directly astern of the 
 boat. Then with a new cast, adding two or more feet 
 of line from the reel, he again let the swift water run 
 it out. Thus, casting each time a little farther, he 
 covered by degrees an increasing triangular area of 
 water, of which the stern of the boat was the apex. 
 As he went on fishing, he chatted with Rose, who sat 
 in front of him, so that he cast over both the girl and 
 the burly figure of Tom. 
 
 " I am now casting about forty-five feet of Une," he 
 said. "I can cast about sixty-five, from reel to fly. 
 There are men who can cast one hundred feet and 
 more, but here it is needless. I could not do it if it 
 were needed." 
 
 Rose began to think all this a little slow, for a pas- 
 time. At last Lyndsay, saying, " Drop, Tom," reeled 
 up his line within a few feet from the long silk leader. 
 As he gave the word, the lump of lead used as an an- 
 chor was lightly lifted and held well in hand, the 
 stemman used his paddle, and the boat dropped 
 some forty feet farther down the pool, and was gently 
 anchored. The stream at this place was more broken, 
 and was what Tom called '' strong water." 
 
24 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 The easting business began again, witli no better 
 result, so that Rose, to whom it all looked easy enough, 
 began to find it more pleasant to watch the shadows 
 of the hiUs and the heavy clouds moving overhead. 
 Mr. Lyndsay was now casting some fifty feet of line, 
 and, as Rose turned, trying to analyze for her own 
 use the succession of movements, she was struck with 
 the grace and ease with which the line was recovered 
 at the end of the east, — sent apparently without 
 effort directly behind the fisherman, and then with- 
 out crack or snap impelled in a straight line to right 
 or left at an angle from the boat, so that the casting- 
 line and fly dropped or settled lightly on the water ; 
 the fly always maintaining its place at the end of the 
 east. Then she heard, " You riz him ! " " We have 
 tickled his fancy, Rose, or tempted his curiosity. 
 Now we have a little game to play. Sometimes we 
 wait a few minutes. I rarely do so unless the flsh are 
 scarce. Look sharp. Did you see him rise ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " That flsh lies in a line with yonder dead pine. In 
 this quick water the fly buries itself, but as I follow it 
 with the rod, you can guess its place. Most commonly 
 a salmon remains in one spot, with his nose up-stream, 
 and — " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Rose, as the fly reached the indicated 
 spot and a swirl in the water and a broad back caught 
 her eye. "Oh! oh!" 
 
 " It has all the charm of gambling," said Mr. Lynd- 
 say, '' without the badness." 
 
 " Win he rise again ? " 
 
 " Perhaps. Ah, not this time " ; and after a couple 
 of casts, he said, " Put on a black dose." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 25 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 " Our flies have all manner of queer names. This 
 is a ' dark fly,' quite unlike the bright doctor. It may 
 tempt him." And at the flrst cast, with the same 
 length of line, the peaceful scene was turned into one 
 of intense excitement. 
 
 " There ! " cried Kose. " Oh ! " for as the new fly 
 reached the fated spot, there was a sudden flash of 
 white a dozen yards away. The reel ran out a few 
 feet, the rod was lifted and turned over to bring the 
 winch to the right hand, and the pressure on the en- 
 tire length of the bending rod. The angler sat down. 
 
 Tom meanwhile had called to the bowman as the 
 fish struck, and the anchor was instantly drawn up. 
 For this brief interval of time the great salmon 
 stayed, pausing. " Thinking what 's wrong," said Lynd- 
 say. The next instant the reel sang, and some two 
 hundred feet of line ran out with incredible swiftness. 
 Far away across the stream a great white thing leaped 
 high out of the water, as Lyndsay dropped the tip of 
 his rod to relax the tension of the line. 
 
 " How exciting it is ! " cried Rose, as the fish leaped 
 again. " I don't sympathize with the salmon at all ; 
 I am intent on murdering him." 
 
 " Fresh run and clean," said Tom, — " a beauty ! " 
 
 The canoe, urged by deft paddles, moved across 
 the river. The tension relaxing, Lindsay reeled up 
 line. Then again there was a wild rush up river. 
 
 " Tom, quick ! After him ! " 
 
 The next moment the line came back, slack. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Rose, " he is gone ! " 
 
 " No ! no ! " shouted Tom. " Reel ! reel, sir ! " and 
 presently the long, loose line grew tight, for the sal- 
 
26 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GBEEN 
 
 mon had tiorned and made straight for the hoat. Now, 
 once more, he broke water, thirty feet away. 
 
 "Them long runs tires 'em," said Tom, "and the 
 jumps tires 'em more. Showed his belly, sir." 
 
 Lyndsay now slowly lifted his rod-tip, throwing it 
 back of him, and then lowering it as he recovered the 
 line. 
 
 " Take care, sir ! " cried Tom, for once more there 
 was a fierce, short dash across, and again a leap. This 
 time the fish came in slowly, but surely, and Tom took 
 his gaff. 
 
 " Can you do it 1 " 
 
 " Yes, sir." The gaff was in, and the great, flapping 
 fish in the boat, and Rose pretty well splashed with 
 water as Tom cleverly lifted his prey on the gaff -hook. 
 
 " A twenty-pounder, Mr. Lyndsay, sure ! " 
 
 " "Well, Rose, how do you like it ? " 
 
 " Oh, papa, it is splendid ! 
 
 " Where are we going ? " she added, as the canoe 
 was run ashore. 
 
 " The men will put the fish under a bush, to be out 
 of the sun ; and now, what were you about to ask ? I 
 saw a question ready in your eyes." 
 
 " I wish, papa — I wish I did not think the fish had 
 a dreadful time. I have to think of pleasure holding 
 the rod and tragedy at the end of the line." 
 
 "Upon my word. Rose, you are emphatic. I can 
 assure you, my dear, that you may safely keep your 
 emotional statements for another occasion. 
 
 "Let me tell you something. Once when fishing 
 on the Nipigon, I saw an odd-looking, very large trout. 
 He ro?e every time I cast, and at last took the fly. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEBEN 27 
 
 Now, why the salmon takes the fly, not Solomon could 
 say, because he eats nothing while in the rivers; but 
 trout are pigs for greediness. When I looked this 
 hungry trout over, he was still bleeding from a fish- 
 hawk's claws, and his intestines and liver were hang- 
 ing in the water. Such pain, or injury if you like, as 
 this, does in man utterly destroy appetite and cause 
 inaction. The inference is plain enough : fish cannot 
 be said to suffer what we call pain. I once took a 
 striped bass which had been terribly torn by a gaff. 
 On the whole. Rose, I conclude that, as we go down 
 the scale of life, there is less and less of what we call 
 pain, and at last, probably, only something nearer to 
 discomfort or inconvenience." 
 
 "Is that so ? Then we hold our higher place at the 
 cost of suffering, which must increase as we go on 
 rising through the ages to come ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Lyndsay, looking aside with freshened 
 curiosity at this young logician. " Yes, the rule must 
 work both ways. But man alone has the power to 
 limit, lessen, even annihilate pain. The amount of 
 pain in the civilized world must have been vastly 
 diminished within forty years, since we got ether and 
 the like." 
 
 " And will not that in time lessen our power to en- 
 dure ? But then," she added quickly, " that might be 
 of less moment if we are always increasingly able to 
 diminish or stop pain." 
 
 Lyndsay smiled. This alert grasp of a subject was 
 a novel acquisition. As he was adjusting a fly, and 
 the boat was dropping to a new station, she said : 
 
 "I hate pain. I don't believe in its usefulness. 
 
28 WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 Not for Eose Lyndsay, at least. It only makes me 
 cross." 
 
 " Yet you would hesitate to make a world without 
 it?" 
 
 " Yes. One can see the difficulties." 
 
 " The more you think of them the more they mul- 
 tiply. It is, of course, commonplace to say pain is 
 protective, and in a sense educative. That one may 
 admit ; and yet there wUl stiU be such a lot of torment 
 which is natural that one does keep on wondering 
 why." 
 
 "Do you remember, Pardy," — this was her nur- 
 sery name for her father, — "when Mr. Caramel 
 preached about the uses of pain, and said the man 
 who suffered was ignorantly rich : he had only to 
 learn to use his wealth?" 
 
 " Oh, very well I remember. As we came out Anne 
 said she would be glad to be generous with her over- 
 competence, and wanted to send Mr. Caramel a few 
 of the crumbs to relieve his too comfortable poverty ! " 
 
 " Yes, only one can't repeat her bits of grim fun, 
 Pardy; and when she tells Dick a green-apple stomach- 
 ache is only a joke which he don't understand, you 
 must see her face and Dick's grimace. — Oh, see how 
 that fish jumped ! " 
 
 " North has a curious notion that pain, except for 
 early protective education, is, in a measure, useless. 
 He declares that long bouts of it make men bad." 
 
 " Not Aunt Anne, Pardy." 
 
 " Ob, a woman ! That is different." 
 
 " Nor that splendid fellow. Dr. HaU, now — " 
 
 "Bother, Rose! Don't interrupt me. North says 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 29 
 
 he has seen certain hysterical women get well as to 
 everything except loss of sense of pain. He knows of 
 two who are ignorant, at present, of the feeling of pain. 
 You cannot hurt them. One of them declares that 
 she would on no account resume the normal state." 
 
 " I cannot imagine any one wanting to be so unna- 
 tural, and she must lose all warnings as to burns and 
 knocks." 
 
 "No, she substitutes intelligent watchfulness for 
 the sentinel pain." 
 
 " I shall never get rid of pain by having hysterics," 
 said Rose, confidently. " I can't imagine that." 
 
 " Occasion may assist imagination. Take care ! " 
 
 " There is a scornful masculine note in that remark, 
 sir ! "Why do not men have hysterics ? " 
 
 "Ask North; he will refer you to Hamlet's condi- 
 tion. Is n't it in Act I, Scene IV, where he gets what 
 Jack calls 'rattled' about the ghost? North says he 
 was hysterical. Dr. Shakspere knew his business. 
 But I meant to add that North says there is one case 
 on record of a man who, in all his life, never knew 
 what pain was, — had no pain ; could not be hurt in 
 any way ! " 
 
 " How strange ! " 
 
 " Yes, but we are losing the shining hours. The 
 busiest bee could not improve them here." 
 
 "No, indeed ! " 
 
 "Oh, one word more, and then let us pitch the 
 horrid thing overboard. I was so puzzled once — I 
 still am — about this passage in my Aurelius." 
 
 "Real or fictitious, Pardy? You are not always 
 above following Aunt Anne's wicked ways!" 
 
30 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB aEEEN 
 
 " Oh, real. He says, 'There is no dishonor in pain.' 
 I have remarked in my commentary that this passage 
 is not clear." 
 
 " But is it not, papa ? He must mean that dishonor 
 is the worst anguish, and that pain is only an evil to 
 the body, and that an ache of the soul is worst of all, 
 and therefore — " 
 
 " Only an iU to our grossest part, if we so deter- 
 mine to limit its effects. Is that it, my dear ? " 
 
 "I suppose so," said Rose, with some hesitation. 
 "Yes, that is it." 
 
 " But now you shall argue with a fish. You will be 
 awkward at first. Here is a lighter rod ; we caU it a 
 grilse-rod. Tom shall coach you, and I will grin at 
 your failures ! " 
 
 "I hate failure!" 
 
 "And I loathe it. But, as the Persian poet says, 
 'Failure is the chUd of doubt, and the grandfather 
 of success.'" 
 
 " Pardy ! Pardy ! " Rose smiled. Those Oriental 
 quotations were family properties, and a source of 
 some bewilderment to the educated stranger. 
 
 "Now, dear, see how I hold the rod — lightly. 
 Yes, so, without tension. Don't make too much 
 physical effort. Let the rod do its share. Don't 
 insist on doing all, and too much yourself." 
 
 Rose took the rod, and Tom began his lesson. But 
 the gods were good, and, after a few awkward casts, a 
 salmon, more eager than his kind, made a mad bolt for 
 the fiy, and was off like a crazy thing, across the stream. 
 
 " Turn your rod ! Down ! Sit down ! Tip up ! 
 Up ! That is rare," said Lyndsay. " If that salmon 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 31 
 
 were to keep on running, there would be no salmon 
 for you. Quick, boys ! " for before the anchor was 
 up, the wild fish had run off two thirds of the reel. 
 Now they were away after him at fullest speed. 
 
 " Reel ! reel ! " cried Tom. " Reel up ! " 
 
 " But I am tired ! Oh, I shall lose him ! " 
 
 However, after he had made another run, Rose 
 began to get in the line, then the fish stopped a 
 moment, and again was away. 
 
 Meanwhile, the canoe, in crossing and recrossing, 
 had come close to the swift water below the pool. 
 
 " We have got to go down the rapids, sir." 
 
 " Let her go, then. Steady, Rose, keep a strain on 
 him." 
 
 " But I am nearly dead ! " 
 
 " You will come to. Quick ! Drop the tip I " for 
 as they fled down-stream, the boat dancing, the water 
 splashing in, the poles, now pushing, now snubbing 
 the canoe, the salmon made a leap high in air, and 
 fell across the taut line, which came back free, while 
 Rose looked around in disgusted amazement. 
 
 " He is gone ! " she said. 
 
 " Yes. You should have lowered the tip when he 
 jumped. But think how pleased he is, my dear ! " 
 
 " I hate him ! " 
 
 "He has got half a leader and a good silver doc- 
 tor," said her father. "You can quote Browning, 
 dear, ' The Last Leader.' " 
 
 " For shame ! I knew those things must be weak. 
 I would have a good, thick rope." 
 
 " You would n't take many fish, miss," said Tom, 
 grinning. 
 
82 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 " What are these wretched leaders made of ? " said 
 Rose. 
 
 " Silk. They drown the silkworm in vinegar, and 
 then, cutting out the silk sac, take the two ends, and 
 pull them apart. The silk, for a whole cocoon, is in 
 a state of thick solution, and is thus puUed out into 
 one of the many lengths which we tie to make a 
 nine-foot leader." 
 
 " How curious ! " 
 
 Meanwhile, another leader was well soaked and 
 adjusted, and Rose began anew. But, although she 
 cast better, no more salmon rose, and, tired out, she 
 gave up the rod. Mr. Lyndsay had no better luck, 
 and, as it was close to lunch-time, they ran ashore to 
 pick up their salmon, which Tom laid in the canoe 
 and covered with ferns. Soon again the little vessel 
 was in the strong current. 
 
 " There is no hurry, Tom," said Lyndsay ; and so 
 the canoe, held straight by a guiding paddle, glided 
 swiftly onward. 
 
 " It is perfect motion, Pardy, — ■ at most, it has the 
 ease and grace of flight." 
 
 " It makes one envy the fish." 
 
 " All, the dear things. I am so glad to be able to 
 think it really does not hurt them." 
 
 " Hurt 'em ? " said Tom. " They likes it, else why 'd 
 they want it. They need n't 'less they 're a mind to." 
 
CHAPTER ill 
 
 S they floated quietly down the river, 
 close to shore, under birch and beech 
 and pine and sOky tamarack, the 
 delight of open air, the pleasantness 
 of the shifting pictures, the delicate, 
 changeful odors, even the charm 
 of the motion, were keenly felt by Rose. She was 
 falling under the subtle magic of this woodland life, 
 and lazily accepting the unobservant, half -languid 
 joy it brought. At last she said : 
 
 "Papa, does it take you long to — well, to get 
 away from your work, so that you can fully enjoy 
 all this?" 
 
 " Three or four days ; not more. I like at once the 
 feeling that I have nothing I must do. After awhile 
 the habit of using the mind in some way reasserts 
 its sway. At home I watch men. It is part of my 
 stock in the business of the law. Here I readjust my 
 mind, and it is nature I have learned to watch. I 
 was not a born observer; I have made myself one. 
 After a day or two on the water, I begin to notice the 
 life of the woods ; the birds, the insects. This grows 
 on me day by day, and, I think, year by year. It is a 
 very mild form of mental industry, but it suflELces to 
 fill the intervals of time when salmon will not rise." 
 
 3 33 
 
34 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 " It is SO pleasant to drift ! " 
 
 " Yes ; tliat is tlie charm of tlie life. Nobody el- 
 bows you here; no rade world jostles your moods. 
 You may entertain the gentle melancholy of Pense- 
 roso or the entire idleness of Adam before the apple 
 tempted him. You may be gay and noisy, — no one 
 is shocked ; and then, the noble freedom of a flannel 
 shirt and knickerbockers ! Why do we ever go back ? " 
 
 " There is a queer indefiniteness about it all to me," 
 said Rose. "I cannot get into any full — I mean 
 interested — relation with the life and all there is in 
 it. I don't say just what I mean." 
 
 " I see, Rose : from Rome to this is a long way, — ' a 
 far cry,' we say in Scotland. Let yourself go. Drift, 
 as you said." 
 
 " Ah," said Rose, 
 
 " "T is pleasant drifting, drifting, 
 
 Where the shores are shifting, shifting, 
 And the Dream God has the tiller, 
 And Fancy plies the oar.' 
 
 It is not always easy to drift, and I am not yet 
 enough at ease to drift. I find, Pardy, that the 
 changes at home are very great. I am getting slowly 
 used to them. The boys seem new creatures. You 
 are just the same. But mama! I am so sorry for 
 her." 
 
 " That will come right, dear. The mother- wounds 
 heal slowly. As for me, I own to no discontent about 
 my boy's death. Most people hold foolish notions as 
 to death. In my third chapter on Marcus Aurelius, I 
 have given a history of opinion about death. It has 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 35 
 
 had strange variations. Really, we are very stupid as 
 to tlie matter. The old heathen is fine about it: 
 ' Thou hast embarked. Thou hast made the voyage. 
 Thou art come to shore ; leave the ship. There is no 
 want of Gods even there.' " 
 
 " Yes, but — I did not embark," said Rose. " I was 
 put on as freight. I — " 
 
 " How horribly exact you are for a summer day ! I 
 won't argue with you ; you love it. How quiet it is ! 
 Not a leaf stirs. How completely peaceful! The 
 drowsiness of noon." 
 
 " Yes, it is like 'the peace that is past understand- 
 ing.' I never think of that phrase," she added, after 
 a pause, " without a little puzzle of mind about it. 
 Aunt Anne says it is so altogether nice after a mourn- 
 ful length of sermon; but Aunt Anne is terrible at 
 times. I often wonder what people who do not know 
 her well must think of her. What I mean is — Well, 
 it is hard to state, Pardy. Is the peace so great that 
 we have no earthly possibility of apprehending its re- 
 lief from the unrest of this life ? — or that — Don't 
 you dislike to stumble in thinking? I — it does not 
 seem to me as if I wanted peace. Is that dreadful ? " 
 
 " No, dear. But some day you may, and there are 
 many kinds. I sometimes crave relief from mere in- 
 tellectual turmoil. Another yearns after the day 
 when his endless battle with the sensual shall cease. 
 One could go on. Perhaps for you, and for all, the 
 indefiniteness of the promise is part of the value of it? 
 mystery. That is widely true. You may one day 
 come to love some man, and to entirely believe in his 
 promise of love. Yet you will not fully know what 
 
36 WHEN,AXL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 that means, — you cannot; and yet you trust it, for 
 the inner life after all rests on a system of credits, 
 as business does. Do you foUow me?" 
 
 " Yes," she said, with a little doubt. "Yes, I think 
 I do ; and yet it is not peace I want, if that means 
 just merely rest." 
 
 " Oh, no ; surely not finality of action. Remember 
 that with that promise of peace is to come increase of 
 knowledge of God, which means all knowledge. We 
 see and hear now the beautiful in nature, and are 
 troubled by its apparent discords. There the true 
 harmonies of it all shall be ours to know. It is like 
 learning the reasons for the music we hear now with 
 only joy and wonder." 
 
 "That may be so. To like or love a person, a 
 friend, is pleasant ; but to love and also fully to un- 
 derstand a friend is better. Then one is at ease, one 
 has true peace, because we have then knowledge with 
 love." 
 
 " That was nicely put, my child, but one can't talk 
 out in full such subjects as this. One can only sow 
 seed and trust to the fertilization of time. Where 
 did you get your quotation about drifting?" 
 
 "I do not know; Aunt Anne would." 
 
 " Oh, that, of course," said Lyndsay ; " she told us 
 once that not to know the name of the man you quote 
 is a form of ingratitude : to take the gift and forget 
 the giver." 
 
 " That is so like her : to label want of memory as 
 intellectual ingratitude." 
 
 " When we laughed," said Lyndsay, " she added that 
 quotations were mean admissions of our own incapa- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 37 
 
 city of statement. Claiborne was dining witli lis, — 
 you should have heard his comments. You know 
 how perplexingly droll she is at times, and when she 
 is in what the boys call a ' gale ' of merry mind-play." 
 
 " It sounds familiar. Aunt Anne is not above re- 
 peating her jests. I recall it now. She insisted gaily 
 that it is bad manners to call up the spirit of a man, 
 and accept his contribution to your needs, and then 
 to say, 'Sorry I forgot your name,' and just show 
 him to the door of your mind. She is great fun, 
 sometimes." 
 
 " Yes, sometimes. The fun is not always honeyed, 
 or — if it looks so — of a sudden the bees crawl out 
 of it and sting folks; but who can wonder f If it 
 helps Anne to clap an occasional mustard-plaster on 
 me, dear lady, she is welcome." 
 
 " Once, Pardy, in Venice, she was in dreadful pain, 
 and some women got in by mistake. She was per- 
 fectly delightful to those people. When they went 
 away, I said, 'Aunty, how much better you are ! ' And 
 what do you think she replied ? ' You wiU never 
 know, dear, whether you have good manners or not 
 until you have pain for one of your visitors,' and then 
 she fainted. I never knew her to faint, and I was 
 dreadfully scared." 
 
 " She ought to have excused herself," said Lyndsay. 
 " It was heroic foolishness." 
 
 " I suppose it was." 
 
 " You need not suppose, — it was ! I hate to think 
 of how she suffers. Look at yonder lot of firs and 
 spruce with the gray, green, drooping mosses on them. 
 After a rain that hillside looks like a great cascade. 
 
38 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AiJE GKBBN 
 
 You see the moss hangs in arrow-head shapes, like 
 those of falling water. It is so hard to set these 
 simple things in words — you can describe them with 
 half a dozen pencil-marks. I envy you the power. 
 I have to stick to my old habit of word-sketches, about 
 which our friend, the doctor, once wrote, as you know. 
 On Sunday we will have a run up-stream, and a big 
 wood-and-water chat." 
 
 As he spoke the canoe slipped around a little head- 
 land, and was at once close to the cliff camp. 
 
 " That does n't look very peaceful," cried Rose. 
 "Oh, they will be killed!" and she started up. 
 
 " Keep still," said her father ; " you will upset us." 
 What she saw looked grim enough : a tangle of three 
 boys, rolling down some fifteen feet of graveled 
 slope; then the three afoot; two or three savage 
 blows, fierce cries, and a sudden pause, as Lyndsay 
 called out : 
 
 " Hullo there I — quit that. Jack ! Stop, Ned ! " 
 
 Their faces were very red, their clothes covered 
 with dirt. There was silence and instant obedience. 
 Mrs. Lyndsay stood imploring at the top of the chff, 
 and Anne was standing by with a queer smile on her 
 face, and her fingers in a book. 
 
 " Who began it, boys 1 What is it all about? " 
 
 Jack spoke first : " Dick hit Ned, and he 's too small 
 for him, and so I hit Dick." 
 
 "He might have let us alone. I 'm as good as 
 Dick any time," said the slightest of the lads, with 
 no show of gratitude. 
 
 " He said I was a fool," explained Dick. " Ned 's 
 quite a match, but Jack can't keep out of a row." 
 
WHEN Alii THE WOODS ABE GREEN 39 
 
 "And so it was two to one, was it? I can't stand 
 that: no more fishing to-day or to-morrow, Master 
 Jack." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " And now, what was this war about ? " 
 
 " Well, Ned he said Claverhouse was a bloody vil- 
 lain, and I said he was a gallant gentleman, and Ned 
 said I was a fool." 
 
 " That was a difference of sentiment which has cost 
 blood before," laughed Anne, from the bluff. Ned 
 grinned as he wiped a bloody nose. 
 
 " Oh, do keep quiet, Anne," said her brother; "this 
 is my affair. How is it, Ned, and you, Dick? Is it 
 settled? If not, there is room back of the house. 
 This fighting, before women is not to my taste. But 
 is all this just as Dick says, Ned ? " 
 
 "Why, father, I — I said it." And Dick's face 
 flushed. 
 
 "You are right, sir; I beg pardon. As you seem 
 indisposed to have it out, shake hands ; but an honest 
 shake. It must be peace or war ; no sullenness." 
 
 "All right, sir. I 'm sorry, Dick." 
 
 "I 'm not — very," said Dick; but he put his hand 
 on Ned's shoulder, and kindly offered a second hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 "Now, you mad Indians, go and make yourselves 
 decent. It is time for luncheon." 
 
 Rose went up the cliff to where Miss Anne stiU 
 stood. "I think it is dreadful, most dreadful." 
 
 " I used to, my dear, but on the whole it clears the 
 air, and the boys seem none the worse for it. Jack 
 is usually the ferment; Dick is hot of temper; and 
 
40 WHEN ALL THE W00B8 ARE GEEEN 
 
 Ned, my dear Ned, would die on tlie rack for a 
 sentiment." 
 
 When the family sat down to the luncheon, a 
 stranger would have detected no evidence of the re- 
 cent warfare. The mother, once or twice, cast an 
 anxious look at the slight enlargement of Ned's 
 nose, but, to the surprise of Rose, what had seemed 
 to her an angry contest made no kind of alteration 
 in the good humor of the lads. Ned was as usual 
 silent ; but Dick and Jack were busily discussing the 
 color of the trout they had taken : some were dark, 
 some brighter in tint. 
 
 It was the good habit of this old-fashioned house- 
 hold to invite the talk and questions of the children. 
 
 " You got the blacker ones at Grime's run, near the 
 mouth," said Mr. Lyndsay; "the others in the river 
 below. Well, what do you make of it?" 
 
 "Is n't the bottom dark in the places where the fish 
 are dark ? " said Dick. 
 
 " Put it backward," replied his father, " and you 
 will have a part of the truth." 
 
 " But how could that act ? " said Dick. 
 
 " It must act somehow," said Jack. 
 
 " Is it the light 1 " said Ned. 
 
 " But light blackens the skin, or heat does," rea- 
 soned Dick. 
 
 " The true cause is curious. It is an action of light 
 through the eyes, and thence, by the brain pathways, 
 on to the numberless little pigment-cells of the skin, 
 which are able to shrink or enlarge, and thus change 
 the hue of the whole outside of the fish, Blind fish 
 40 not change their hue," 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 41 
 
 " But that is not the way we get brown," said Rose. 
 
 " No, not at all. Sun-tan is not caused by the sun's 
 heat ; it is an effect of the chemical rays." 
 
 " A kind of photography, Pardy 1 " 
 
 " Yes, more complete than you can fancy ; the sun- 
 light falls nowhere without leaving a record, only we 
 cannot recover it as we can the photograph of the 
 camera. In fact, it is probable that every reflection 
 from everything and onto everything leaves positive 
 records. It was Professor Draper, I think, who 
 played with this pretty idea, that, if we had the 
 means of development, we might thus win back pic- 
 tures of every event since the world was made." 
 
 " I like that," said Anne. " What would one desire 
 to see if we could recover these lost memorials ? " 
 
 There was a little pause at this. 
 
 " Come, Ned." 
 
 " Oh, I 'd want to see old Cromwell when he was 
 looking at Charles, just lying there dead." 
 
 " But he never did see him then," said Jack. " You 
 would n't have wanted to, Ned, if you had been that 
 scoundrel." 
 
 " Yes, I should," cried Ned ; " I 'd have known then 
 if I was right." 
 
 Anne looked at him aside, with brief curiosity. 
 He often puzzled her. 
 
 " Cromwell a scoundrel ! " he murmured to himself. 
 
 "And you. Jack?" 
 
 "Oh, the cemetery hill at Gettysburg, just when 
 the rebel line broke ; but " — and his face flushed — 
 "just to have been there. That would have been 
 better," 
 
42 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 "And what would you like to see, Anne?" said 
 Lyndsay. 
 
 " Oh, a hundred things ! " and her eyes lit up. At 
 last she said, " Yes ; I think if it were only one thing, 
 I would say, St. Paul on Mars' Hill." 
 
 " I think I shall rest content with Anne's choice," 
 said Mrs. Lyndsay. "But, ah me, there might be 
 many, many things," 
 
 " Dick, it is your turn," said Lyndsay. 
 
 "I — I — don't know. Yes, yes. The days of the 
 great lizards — and things," he added, comprehen- 
 sively ; " and that beast with a brain in his head and 
 one in his tail. And, father, may I see the insides of 
 that salmon ? He has a lot of what the men call sea- 
 lice on him." 
 
 "Certainly. He loses them very soon in fresh 
 water. It is a sign of a clean run flsh. Yes, of 
 course. Do as you like, my boy." 
 
 " Mrs. Maybrook was here this morning," said Mrs. 
 Lyndsay. "I was away. You and Anne must see 
 her, Rose. She is really a personage. I, at least, 
 have never seen any one like her. She left word that 
 the little boy was sick at Joe Colkett's, — the upper 
 clearing, you know, Archie ; and could we do some- 
 thing to help them 1 There is no doctor for fifty 
 miles. I thought. Rose, you might take some things, 
 and go over after lunch, and see what it is." 
 
 Now, Rose was salmon-bitten, but it was character- 
 istic that she said at once she would go. A glance at 
 the mother's face decided her. Anne, who understood 
 everybody with strange readiness, nodded to her 
 gently, and Rose had her reward. It is pleasant to 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 43 
 
 be clearly read by those we love. Then the chat went 
 on, gay or grave, but plenty of it, and with ample 
 sauce of foUy. 
 
 As the girl went out onto the porch, L3radsay said 
 to his sister, " I was sorry for Rose. Her first day of 
 salmon-flshing. Sometimes my good Margaret is — 
 well, a little too positive about these confounded 
 duties. She might — " 
 
 "No, Archie. Rose understood her mother. Of 
 course, she did not like it, but she was right, and was 
 perfectly sweet about it." 
 
 " I shall take her up myself, and wait for her," he 
 went on. " If we start early, she will be in time for 
 a late cast. Hang the black flies ! — get a smudge, 
 Tom," he called. " I suppose Margaret is right. Even 
 the simulation of goodness is valuable. Of course, 
 Anne, as Marcus Aurelius said, 'Affect a virtue — ' 
 No, confound it ! he says, ' If you have not a vir- 
 tue, make believe to have it, and by and by you will 
 have it." 
 
 Anne smiled. " I think there is a statute of limita- 
 tions for some of us." 
 
 " Come into my room," he added. " I want to read 
 you my last chapter. It is on the value of habits. 
 You can sew if you like." 
 
 " Archie ! You never saw me sew in your life. It 
 is Margaret's resource, not mine. I never could com- 
 prehend its interest for women. M. A. was a bit 
 of a prig in my opinion; but, as to the commen- 
 tary, look out, — previous experience should have 
 warned you, — there wiU be two commentaries," and 
 she went in after him, laughing. 
 
44 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE OEEEN 
 
 As he passed Rose, he said, " By the way, and to 
 put your conscience at ease before you fish again, 
 here is a note-book of mine in which you may see that 
 while hunting is forbidden to the clergy, fishing is 
 allowed. The reasons are amusing. Ned or Dick 
 wiU help you, but the Latin is easy." 
 
 " Walton quotes it," added Lyndsay. 
 
 " No, only in part," said Anne. 
 
 " You are intolerable. Your literary conscience is 
 like Margaret's moral exactness. There is no living 
 with either of you." 
 
 "Don't believe him. Rose; but keep for me the 
 quotation." 
 
 She devoured books, and digested them also, with 
 the aid of a rather too habitual acidity of criticism ; 
 but what was in them she never forgot. 
 
 " Come, now, Archie." 
 
 Rose took the note-book and sat down. This was 
 what she read, from the Decretals of Lyons, 1671: 
 " Sed quare prohibetur venari, et non piscari ? Quia 
 forte piseatio sine clamore, venatio non ; vel quia ma- 
 jor est delectatio in venatione ; dum enim quis et in 
 venatione nihil potest de divinis cogitare." ^ 
 
 " Ambrose speaks of it in like manner in his third 
 homUy, — the old humbug ! " said Miss Rose, over 
 whose shoulder Dick had been looking. 
 
 " I guess they took a sly shot, now and then, at the 
 king's deer, Rosy Posy." 
 
 1 Until witlim two years, it was lawful to fish, on Sunday in 
 New York, but unlawful to shoot. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 i BOUT three o'clock, as Rose stood by 
 the canoe in a pretty hot sun, she 
 saw Ned and Dick making ready for 
 another trip to the brook. 
 
 "Pardy," she said, "do let Jack 
 go with them." 
 "It won't be half the fun without Jack," urged 
 Ned. Lyndsay hesitated. "Well, yes. Rose." 
 
 She was away up the steps in a moment, and found 
 Jack deep in an Arctic voyage. 
 " You are to go. Jack," she cried. 
 " I don't want to." 
 " That 's a first-class fib." 
 "Well, I don't want to go." 
 " Come, Jack ; you hurt me ; and I asked — " 
 " By George ! " he cried, " I '11 go." 
 "You must want to go." 
 " I do." 
 
 " Go and thank Pardy." 
 
 Jack stood a moment, and then Rose kissed him. 
 " Drat you women ! " said the youngster, and 
 walked away and down to the canoes. He went 
 straight to his father. 
 " I am very much obliged to you, sir." 
 " All right, old man. Off with you." 
 
 45 
 
46 WHEN AT.T. THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 " By George, Dick, but M. A. is a gentleman," said 
 Jack, as the canoe left the beach. " He might have 
 rubbed it in, and he just did n't." 
 
 " How 's your nose, you small poet cuss?" said Dick. 
 " I cut my knuckles on those sharp teeth of yours." 
 
 " That 's what they 're for. Ruby " ; and so they 
 were away, singing as they went : 
 
 "The king shall enjoy his own again," — 
 
 to the amusement of the two Indians. 
 
 " I should have sent the Grasp6 men," said Lyndsay 
 to Rose, as he stood following the canoe with his 
 eyes. " If anything happens, they would think first 
 of the boys, and next of themselves. In Mr. Lo I 
 have less faith." 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 "Experience, prejudice, color — distrust. Once I 
 was on Lake Superior, Rose, in a boat in a storm. 
 Our two Indian guides simply lay down and wilted. 
 We could get no help from either. And a curious 
 thing happened that night. "We landed on a beach at 
 the river of the Evil Manitou. When the Indians 
 learned that I meant to camp there, they tried to steal 
 a canoe and run away, explaining that to sleep there 
 would cause the death of some one of their people. I 
 could not stand this, because we needed the third 
 canoe. It ended by our keeping watch, revolver in 
 hand, all night. When we reached Duluth, an old 
 Indian — a Chippeway, of course — was waiting to tell 
 one of my guides that his sister had died that morning." 
 
 " What did he say to you, papa ? " 
 
 " Only, ' Me telly you so.'" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 47 
 
 "And did n't you feel very, very badly? Ton 
 know, dear M, A., you are quite a bit superstitious 
 yourself." 
 
 "As to the first question. No. I was sorry, but — 
 Get into the canoe — so — facing the bow. I sha'n't 
 see your face when you talk, and I can fib without 
 those nice eyes of yours making righteous comments." 
 
 "A Ute-d-tSte back to back might have its advan- 
 tages," she returned, laughing, " for a cceur-d-coeur at 
 least, papa." 
 
 " I trust that is in the dim distance, my child." 
 
 " How serious you are, Pardy!" 
 
 He was troubled at times lest this best of his dear 
 comrades should find another man whom she would 
 love more than she loved the father-friend. 
 
 "And," she went on, " would you have shot the In- 
 dian if he had taken or tried to take the boat, Pardy ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ! The revolver was not loaded. Our An- 
 glo-Saxon fists would have answered, as we were four 
 to two." 
 
 " But are n't these Indians Catholics ? " 
 
 "If you mean that reKgion puts an end to these 
 little or large superstitions, No. Kismet, the Fates, 
 our Angle ancestors' Wyrda — the goddess who de- 
 creed deaths in battle and spared the brave awhUe — 
 she became God for the Christian Angles : then the 
 will of God, and now the law of God, and for some 
 the laws of nature. It is only a transmutation of 
 phrase. We remain fatalists, and change the label." 
 
 " But it seems to me," said Rose, " a long way from 
 Wyrda, who was rather indecisive, I remember, to 
 changeless law." 
 
48 WHEN Aiit. THE wooes ARE &EEEN 
 
 " Rose, you are dreadful ! If ever I begin to talk 
 loosely, doTyn comes Anne or you with your con- 
 founded rigidity of statement. Don't marry a fool, 
 Rose, or he and you will have a dreadful time." 
 
 " No, papa, never ! Heaven forbid ! But is n't it 
 helpful at least to know — " 
 
 "You can't drag me any further into these deep 
 waters to-day. 
 
 'To-day we give to trifles, 
 And if to-morrow rifles 
 The honey thefts we won, 
 At least the pleasant hours 
 Head down among the flowers. 
 Swinging jolly in the sun — ' 
 
 nobody can quite take away. I forget the rest of it." 
 "I am happy enough, dear Marcus Aurelius, to 
 dare to be grave. I have a pocketful of moods at 
 your order. 
 
 'Eat, drink, and be merry, 
 Dance, sing, and rejoice, 
 With claret and sherry. 
 Theorbo and voice.' 
 
 For we all shall be past it a hundred years hence." 
 
 "I don't know that. Rose. I like to think, with 
 Anne, that in a world to come 
 
 'The angel Laughter spreads her broadest wings.' 
 
 We may laugh at other things, but laugh we shall." 
 "Dear Aunt Anne I The angel of laughter! I 
 
 think I can hear him." 
 "Just to go back a moment. Rose. You can't talk 
 
 out these deeper things. I, at least, must use the pen 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 49 
 
 if I am at all able to discuss them. There never was 
 truth in text or brief sayings that for me could stand 
 alone. Even a proverb needs limbs of comment to 
 get about usefully among mankind. Books of mere 
 maxims I detest. Don't ! I see you mean to reply. 
 Good-by to common sense to-day." 
 
 "Aunt Anne was talking last night," said Rose, 
 " about the value of nonsense. I think it was apropos 
 of just the very worst conundrum you ever heard, — 
 you know what a lot of them the boys have. This 
 one I have made a solemn vow never to repeat. She 
 was wondering why the novelists never make people 
 talk refreshing nonsense the way all reaUy reasonable 
 folks do sometimes." 
 
 "I wonder more, Rose, why they so rarely get 
 really good talk into their conversations, talk such 
 as we do hear, gay and grave by turns. Of course 
 they say of their characters things clever enough." 
 
 " That is terribly true, — one tii-es of the endless 
 essays about their people. Why not let them say of 
 one another what is to be said. Aunt Anne says she 
 hates to have a critical providence forever hovering 
 about a story." 
 
 "A good deal of the personal talk in novels is 
 needed to carry on the tale. Still, there ought to be 
 room for doing this in a way to make the talk in 
 itself amusing at times, and not merely coldly de- 
 velopmental of character." 
 
 " Wait tiU I write my novel," cried Rose. " Every 
 
 one in it shall be clever, — English clever. It hurts 
 
 my sense of the reality of the people in books to be 
 
 told they are able, or this and that, and have sense 
 
 i 
 
60 "WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEBN 
 
 of humor, and then not to find these qualities in 
 what they say." 
 
 "You may have too much of it," he returned. 
 " The mass of readers are unaccustomed to a selected 
 world where to want to amuse and interest, and to 
 be amused, is part, at least, of the social education. 
 Your book would lack readers, just as George Mere- 
 dith's books do, where, surely, the people talk enough, 
 both of brilliant wisdom and as shining wit." 
 
 " But they keep me in a state of mental tension ; I 
 don't like that." 
 
 "No. I said there could be too much in a book, in 
 a novel. These books keep one on a strain. That 
 may suit some people, some moods, but it is n't what 
 I read novels for. Now, Cranford is my ideal." 
 
 " I knew you would say Cranford, papa. But is n't 
 it a little too — too photographic? I met in the 
 Tyrol, papa, a lady who knew many of the people in 
 Cranford. Did you know it was called Knutsf ord 1 " 
 
 "Ah, Canute's ford." 
 
 "Yes. She told me such an odd thing about 
 Knutsford. When a bride is on her way to the 
 church the bridesmaids scatter sand before her, and 
 this is because when Canute crossed the ford he was 
 seated on the bank, and getting the sand out of his 
 shoe, — and just then a bride came over the stepping- 
 stones; the king cast the sand after her, and said, 
 ' May your offspring be as many as the sands in my 
 shoe.' Now, is n't that a pretty story ? " 
 
 " A very pretty story. I shall write it on the blank 
 page of my Cranford." 
 
 " Hullo, Tom 5 are those bear-tracks t " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 51 
 
 They were close now to a sandy beach. 
 
 " Yes, and fresh, too." 
 
 "If Jack saw this he would go wild," said Rose. 
 "And the little marks?" 
 
 " Them 's cubs. They 've been roun' here a sight." 
 
 As they went on, the hiUs became higher and more 
 steep. At their bases lay the wreckage of countless 
 years, the work of ice and heat and storms piled high 
 along the shores. It was covered with dense green- 
 ery of beech and birch and poplar. Out of this, in 
 darker masses, broad columns of tamarack, pine, and 
 spruce seemed to be climbing the long upper slopes 
 of the hiUs which, still higher, lifted gray granite 
 summits, free of growths. 
 
 " How fast do we go ? " said Rose. 
 
 "It is good poling on this stream to make three 
 miles an hour. On the St. Anne there- is one ten-mile 
 stretch which takes all day. "Watch the movement 
 of using the poles. See how graceful it is, — the 
 strong push, the change of hands, the recovery. 
 Ah! — " Suddenly the bowman let go his pole, 
 which Tom seized as it came to the stern. 
 
 " Now, that 's a good thing to see. Rose. He caught 
 it in the rocks, and let it go. If he held it, it would 
 break, or he go over, and possibly iipset us, — no trifle 
 in these wild waters. It requires instant decision." 
 
 " I see. Are n't these the clearings ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 And now, on the farther side, the hills fell away, 
 and the stream grew broad and less swift. A wide 
 alluvial space, dotted with elms, lay to the left, with 
 here and there the half-hidden smoke of a log-housa 
 
52 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GUlEEN 
 
 "Beyond this is a hopeless wilderness, my dear; 
 and to-morrow, Sunday, we shall go up and look at it. 
 And you shall draw a little, if you are wicked enough, 
 and I will make some word sketches." They were 
 now poling along close to the farther shore. 
 
 " Who is that fishing across the river ? " 
 
 " It must be the island camp men." 
 
 Rose set her opera-glass and looked. In a moment 
 she put it down, conscious that the man in the boat 
 was doing as to her precisely the thing she had done. 
 She had a queer feeling that she did not like it; why, 
 she would have been puzzled to say. 
 
 "Who are they? Oh, yes, I remember; you spoke 
 of them before." 
 
 "One is Mr. Oliver EUett. I think he must be 
 Oliver Bllett's son. We were at Harvard. The other 
 is a Mr. Carington." 
 
 "He 's an old hand up here. Fished hjere a heap 
 these years. Casts an awful nice line. Seed him yes- 
 terday. Shot a seal last week, they was a-tellin' me." 
 
 " I should hate a man that could shoot a seal," said 
 Rose. " They look so human, and, then, they can be 
 taught to talk. He can't be a nice man." 
 
 "Them seals spiles the fishin', Miss Rose. They 
 ain't got no business to spile the fishin'. As for them 
 seals a-talkin', that 's a pretty large story, miss; 
 whatever, I don't go to doubt you heerd 'em." 
 
 "But it is true." 
 
 " I 'd like to converse with one," said Tom, in his 
 most liberal voice. "He 'd git my opinion." 
 
 And now the canoe was ashore, and Rose and her 
 father set out through the woods, and by and by 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN B3 
 
 came upon a rude clearing and a rough-looking log- 
 cabin, surrounded with fire-scarred and decaying 
 stumps. The huge wood-pile, as high as the eaves, 
 struck Rose. 
 
 "How that makes one think of the terrible cold 
 and the loneliness of winter here, — no books, no com- 
 pany; what can they do ? " 
 
 " It recalls to me," said Lyndsay, " the curious use of 
 the word ' stove ' in Labrador, where, even more than 
 here, it is important. You ask how many people there 
 are, say, at Mingan 1 The reply is sure to be, ' Oh, 
 there are twenty-seven stoves.' But how many people ? 
 ' I don't know ; there are twenty-seven stoves.' " 
 
 At the open door Lyndsay knocked, and in a 
 moment came through the gloom within a tall, saUow 
 woman. A soiled and much-mended brown gingham 
 gown hung down from broad but lean shoulders over 
 hips as lean and large. As she came to the door, she 
 hastily buttoned her dress awry across the fleshless 
 meagerness of her figure. 
 
 " How do you do, Mrs. Colkett ? " said Lyndsay. 
 
 " Now, ain't it Mr. Lyndsay ? I 'm that wore out I 
 did n't know you. Set down"; and she wiped a chair 
 and a rickety stool with the skirt of her gown. " I 
 did n't know you, sir, till you came to speak. "Was 
 you wantin' Joe ? " 
 
 "No; we came over because Dorothy Maybrook 
 left word your boy was sick. This is my daughter 
 Rose. "We brought some lemons and other trifles. 
 The little man might like them." 
 
 As she turned, Rose took note of the unkempt hair, 
 the slight stoop of the woman's unusually tall figure, 
 
54 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 
 
 and the shoeless, uncovered, and distorted feet. Not 
 less the desolate, comfortless cabin caught her eye, — 
 the rude wooden furniture, and the bed, whence came 
 the hoarse breathing of the sick child. To her sur- 
 prise, Mrs. Colkett said : 
 
 "Dory Maybrook 's always a-fussin' over other 
 folks' concerns, 'stead of mindin' her own affairs." 
 
 Lyndsay, who was standing beside Rose, looked 
 up at the woman. 
 
 " I think," he said, " Dorothy is incapable of want- 
 ing to be other than kind." 
 
 "S'pose so. She might of let on she was goin' 
 a-beggin'." 
 
 "Oh, it was not that," cried Rose, bewildered by 
 the woman's mode of receiving a kindness. 
 
 "Dare say: maybe not. All the same, me and 
 Joe ain't never asked no favors. Set down, miss." 
 
 "No, thank you," returned Rose, and began to 
 empty her basket of fruit and other luxuries. 
 
 " We came over," said Lyndsay, " because my wife 
 thought you might need help." 
 
 " It ain't no use. It was n't never no use. That 
 boy 's a-goin' like the rest." 
 
 " I trust not so bad as that." 
 
 " Yes ; he 's a-goin' like them others." 
 
 " Ton have lost other children ? " said Rose, gently, 
 looking up as she cleared the basket. 
 
 "Yes; two, and he 's the last. They had n't no 
 great time while they was alive, and now they 're 
 lyin' out in the wood, and no more mark over 'em 
 than if they was dead dogs. There won't no one 
 care." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 55 
 
 "Yes, I shall care; I do care, Mrs. Colkett. Oh, 
 is n't it hard to say why such things do happen?" 
 
 " Happen ! " said the woman. " Dorothy, she says 
 God took them children. I 'd like to know why? 
 Preachin' 's easy business. God ! What do I know 
 about God, except that he 's done nothin' for me? 
 And I 'm to be thankful, — what for ? " As she spoke 
 a hoarse sound came from the bed. " For that poor 
 little man a-croakin' there, I suppose ! " 
 
 As Rose was about to reply, her father touched 
 her arm, and, understanding that argument was thus 
 hinted to be unwise, she said : 
 
 " Let me see the little fellow? " 
 
 "You may, if you 've a mind. 'T ain't no good. 
 When it is n't any good, it is n't any good, and 
 that 's all there is to it." 
 
 Rose went up to the bed. A sickening odor filled the 
 close air. She saw beneath her a stout little boy of ten, 
 hot and dusky red with fever, his lips purple, two small 
 hands tightly locked, with the thumbs in the palms, 
 the head, soaked with the death-sweat, rolling rhyth- 
 mically from side to side. The woman followed her. 
 
 " Has he had any one to see him ? " said Lyndsay. 
 
 "Yes. We had a doctor from down river. He 
 came twice. He was n't no use. He took 'most all 
 the money we had left." 
 
 " We shall be glad to help you." 
 
 " Much obliged, sir. It 's only to bury him now. 
 There 's one mercy anyways, — it don't cost much for 
 funerals up here. It 's just get a preacher and dig a 
 hole and my man to make a box. Thank you, all the 
 
56 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 Here was poverty so brutal in its results that even 
 the pretense of sentiment was absent. Rose was 
 troubled. Before her was death, and it was new to 
 her. She turned to her father. " Oh, can't some- 
 thing be done?" 
 
 He tried a moment with unprofessional awkward- 
 ness to find the pulse. There was none he could feel. 
 "What did the doctor say ? What is the matter with 
 the boy, Mrs. Colkett?" 
 
 " He left some medicine stufE ; but laws ! the child 
 could n't take it. The doctor he says it 's diphthery, 
 or something like that. I don't rightly know. It 
 don't matter none." 
 
 All this was said in a slow monotone, as if, Rose 
 thought, — almost as if the woman, the mother, had 
 been an uninterested spectator. After a pause she 
 added, in the same slow voice : 
 
 "If he 's goin' he '11 go, and that 's aU there is of it." 
 
 At the word diphtheria, Lyndsay recoiled, pushing 
 Rose back from the bed. "Harry!" he exclaimed. 
 " It was that ! Go out. Rose ! Go at once ! " 
 
 " Lord, is it ketchin' ? " said the woman, shrinking 
 back from the bed. "That fool never said so. If 
 I 'm to git it, I guess the mischief 's done. If Joe he 
 gits it, Hiram 'U have to make the box." 
 
 " Come away. Rose." 
 
 The girl was divided between horror and pity. At 
 the door she turned. 
 
 "I am not afraid. Let me stay, father, — I must 
 stay!" 
 
 "No; it is useless, and might be worse than use- 
 less." As she obeyed him^ a short, squat figure of a 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 57 
 
 man coming into the doorway darkened the dimly lit 
 room. He moved aside as Rose went out into the 
 sun. Lyndsay went by him also, and the man, turn- 
 ing back, said, " It 's about all over, I guess. We 've 
 got more 'n we can handle, sir. Seems there 's no 
 end of troubles." 
 
 " Come this way," returned Lyndsay. " And you. 
 Rose, wait by the fence." 
 
 He saw but too clearly that the stout, ruddy little 
 man had been taking whisky. Joe Colkett followed 
 him. 
 
 "Good Lord, my man, that child is dying, — will 
 be dead, I am sure, before night ; and here you are in 
 liquor just when that poor woman most wants help." 
 
 " I ain't that drunk I can't do chores. Fact is, Mr. 
 Lyndsay, I went down to ask Dory Maybrook jus' to 
 lend me a little money. That doctor he took most 
 all my wood wage." ^ 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " She would n't do it." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " She said she 'd come up and help, an' if my old 
 woman wanted any she might have it. That ain't no 
 way to treat a man." 
 
 " No," said Lyndsay, with such emphasis as satis- 
 fied his own conscience, and also the duller sense 
 of the lumberman. "No, — that is not the way to 
 treat a man. Listen to me, Joe : Don't drink any 
 more." 
 
 " I ain't any," said Joe. 
 
 "Really?" 
 
 1 Money earned 'bj Inmbering in the winter woods. 
 
58 "WHEN ALL THE "WOODS AKE GBEEN 
 
 " Not a drop. It was just a bit I had left." 
 
 " Come to me when it is all over, and I will pay the 
 doctor's bill, and you can help clear off the brush 
 back of my cabin." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 " You don't drink often, I think. Why should you 
 now ? Was it trouble — about your child ? " 
 
 " He was n't my child." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed Lyndsay, puzzled; "how is 
 that?" 
 
 " My wife was a widder, you see, and them was aU 
 her first man's ; I never had no child. 'T ain't like it 
 was my own child. He was awful spiled, that boy. 
 I licked him two weeks this Sunday comin' for makin' 
 fire by the wood-pUe. Gosh, what a row Susie did 
 make ! " 
 
 " My God ! " exclaimed Lyndsay. 
 
 The man understood him well enough. 
 
 "Oh, I don't go to say I did n't like him none. 
 Lord, I 'd done most anything to git that boy well. 
 I wanted that money to help put him underground. 
 It don't cost much buryin' up here, but it ain't to be 
 done for nothin', and you 've got to look ahead. 
 There 's the minister 's got to be fetched, and — 
 and—" 
 
 Here the man sat down on a stump, and putting a 
 palm on each temple and an elbow on each knee, 
 looked silently down at his mother earth. 
 
 Respect for the moods of men is one of the deli- 
 cacies of the best manners. Lyndsay was still a 
 minute. Then he put a hand on Joe's shoulder. 
 
 "How else can we help you?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AJSE GKEEN 59 
 
 " It 's my woman I 'm a-thinkin' of." He spoke 
 without looking up. " This thing 's the last and the 
 wust, — it 's goin' to down her awful. And there ain't 
 nothin' I can do, — nothin' ! " Here he passed his 
 sleeve across his eyes, and then glanced at the unac- 
 customed moisture, and had a dulled remembrance 
 of having cried long years before ; he failed to recall 
 why or just when. 
 
 " You're a-thinkin' I 'm a mean man to be a-drinkin' 
 and that child a-dyin' in yon ; and that woman ! That's 
 where it gits a man. I ain't been a bad man to her ; 
 I 've took care of them children right along, Mr. 
 Lyndsay, and I never beat her none, and I don't mind 
 me I ever used no bad words to her, not when I was 
 wore out, and — and — had n't a shiUin', and was 
 busted up with blackleg.^ I don't git it clear, sir; 
 I don't care most none for that child, but she might 
 kni me if it would git it well. I don't see nothin' to 
 do but drink, and that 's the fact." 
 
 Lyndsay stood silent in thought. He had seen 
 enough of life not to wonder that drink could be dis- 
 tinctly regarded as, under stress of circumstances, an 
 available resource. He had also seen men or women 
 capable of a single affection, and of only one. What 
 there was to know of this man's relations to his wife 
 and her offspring had been uncovered with frank bru- 
 tality. He had said there was nothing for him except 
 to drink. 
 
 " But if you love your wife, my man, you want to 
 help her, and if you drink you are useless, — and, in 
 fact, you add to her troubles." 
 
 1 The scurvy of tlie lumlDerman, — more rare nowadays. 
 
60 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 "It ain't that, sir. Fact is, she don't care a'most 
 none for me, — and there 's the truth. You would n't 
 think, sir, what a pretty woman she was. She took 
 me to get them children a home and feed. Dory, she 
 knows. I ain't given to tellin' it round, but you 're 
 different. Somehow it helps a man to say things 
 out." 
 
 Here was the strange hurt of a limited tenderness, 
 with aU this rudeness of self-disclosure, and, too, 
 some of the stupid, careless immodesty of drink. 
 
 " I take it kindly," said Lyndsay, " that you have 
 told me the whole of your troubles. Come over and 
 see me. I left some tobacco on the table for you." 
 
 "Much obliged, sir," and, rising, Joe took Mr. 
 Lyndsay's offered hand. "I '11 come," he said, and 
 walked back toward the cabin, while Lyndsay, beck- 
 oning to Rose, turned into the ox-road which led to 
 the shore. 
 
 For a while they were silent. Then he said, " This 
 child is dying of a fever ; no word of the diphtheria 
 to your mother or even to Anne." 
 
 " One can escape mama easily, but Aunt Anne is a 
 relentless questioner." 
 
 " I will speak to her." 
 
 " That would be better, I think. How horrible it 
 all was ! And that woman ! Do you think she reaUy 
 did not care ? " 
 
 " No, no, dear. Imagine a life of constant poverty, 
 utter want of means, — to-day's wages meaning to- 
 morrow's bread; a cruel soil; a mortgaged farm at 
 that; then one child after another dying; the help- 
 lessness of want of money ; the utter lack of all re- 
 
WEtEN ALL tSe Woods aee aitfiEN ei 
 
 sources; the lonely, meager Ufe. This woman has 
 the moral disease of one long, unchanging monotony 
 of despair." 
 
 "I see — I see — you know more, and that makes 
 you forgive more." 
 
 " Some one has said, Rose, that to be able to explain 
 all is to be able to forgive all, and that only One can 
 truly explain aU." 
 
 "It seems to me, Pardy, that poverty has more 
 temptations in it than wealth, and more explanations 
 of sin, too. Is n't the man a brute, Pardy? He had 
 been drinking, and to drink at such a time ! " 
 
 "No; he is coarse, but not a bad feUow. Tou or I 
 would have much we could turn to if trouble came 
 upon us. This man has nothing. It does not sur- 
 prise me that he drank. It is not his habit. But let 
 us drop it all now. I am sorry I took you." He was 
 not unwise enough to speak of the anguish of dread 
 which had possessed him as he stood by the bedside, 
 and now made haste to add, " And yet the lesson was 
 a good one. Tou won't want to fish, I fear?" He 
 had in some ways appreciative touch of his kind, and 
 knew the daughter well. 
 
 " No, no ; not to-day. Let us go home." 
 
 " As you please, dear " ; and they slid away swiftly 
 down the gleaming water as the evening shadows 
 crept across the stream. 
 
 After awhUe Rose said, looking up, "You must 
 have seen, oh, so many people die, Pardy." 
 
 "Yes; Death was for four years a constant com- 
 rade. I had always a firm belief I would not be 
 killed. Some men were always predicting their 
 
62 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 own deaths; others carefully avoided the question. 
 I know one very gallant fellow who was always a 
 gay comrade in camp, and almost abnormally merry 
 in battle unless the fight took place on a day of the 
 month which was an odd number. Then he was sure 
 to think he would be killed. Men in war are like 
 gamblers, and have queer notions as to luck. You 
 knew that child was dying?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " How did you know it ? " 
 
 "I cannot tell. What troubled me, Pardy, was — 
 I think what troubled me — was the loneliness of 
 death; that little fellow going away and away, all 
 by himself." 
 
 "Yes, dear. 
 
 ' Once, once only, love must drop the hand of love 1 ' " 
 
 " But what a horrible woman ! I can't help think- 
 ing that." 
 
 " Was she ? Perhaps ; I don't know." His charity 
 was older than hers. 
 
 "Did you notice. Rose, her sad fatalism: if the 
 child was to die, it would die?" 
 
 "Yes; it was a strange illustration of our talk." 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 \E have so far heard little of Mrs. 
 Lyndsay; but, in fact, she was 
 usually more felt than heard in the 
 every-day life of the household. 
 Archibald Lyndsay said, " She had 
 but one defect, and that was not a 
 fault. She was so entirely good that she lacked all 
 human opportunity for the exercise of repentance." 
 
 "There is no credit to be had in this world, my 
 dear, for monotony of virtue," said Anne Lyndsay. 
 " When you do some of your sweet, nice things, that 
 cost you no end of trouble, people merely say, ' Oh, 
 yes, Margaret Lyndsay ! but she likes to do that kind 
 of thing.' For my part I prefer that wise mixture 
 of vice and virtue which gives variety of flavor to 
 life, and now and then adds the unexpected." 
 
 This was said at breakfast on Sunday morning, 
 the day after Rose had seen the dying lad, who now 
 lay quiet ia the dismal cabin where the mother sat 
 angrily brooding over her loss. 
 
 Lyndsay had spoken of some pleasant act of 
 thoughtful kindness on the part of his wife ; and as 
 Anne, laughing, made her comment, Margaret had 
 shaken a menacing finger at her kindly critic, saying 
 quietly : 
 
 63 
 
64 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 " Oh, I tMnk we are very much alike, Anne " ; at 
 which there was a general outbreak of mirth, for 
 these people were much given to laughter. 
 
 Lyndsay declared that he had observed the re- 
 semblance. 
 
 " And the boys inherit our goodness," added Anne, 
 demurely. "At least, it seemed to me I had evi- 
 dence of it pretty early to-day ; but then the hymn 
 says, 'Let boys delight to bark and bite.' I disre- 
 member the rest, as Peter, our cook, says." At this 
 Ned gave his aunt's gown a gentle pull, by way of 
 respectfully intimating that she was getting them 
 into difficulties. 
 
 "'Let' is permissive," she went on. "I was not 
 really disturbed, Archie " 5 for her brother was now 
 curiously regarding a rather distinct scratch on Dick's 
 ruddy cheek. 
 
 " Raspberry thorns, Dicky ? " he said, maliciously. 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "Sleep-cats," said Anne. "That was always our 
 nursery explanation." 
 
 "What then? Another row? I thought we had 
 had enough for a week." 
 
 " And on Sunday morning, Dick ! " said the mother. 
 « I would n't." 
 
 Anne looked up, amused at this latter declaration. 
 
 " Never mind, Margaret," said her husband. " What 
 was it about, boys ? " 
 
 "Oh, it was n't much of a row. It was only a 
 scrimmage," said Dick. " Ned said King James cut 
 off Raleigh's head because he would smoke tobacco. 
 Did you ever hear such nonsense?" 
 
WHEN AliL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 65 
 
 " But Aunt Anne told me King James wrote a 
 book against smoking, — did n't you, aunt?" urged 
 the smaller lad. 
 
 " And I said it was ridiculous," cried Dick. 
 
 " And Jack he up and said it was n't, because if he 
 was a king, and people did n't do as he wanted, he 
 would cut off their heads, like that," said Ned, knock- 
 ing off the end of an egg, by way of illustration. 
 
 "And so we had a melley," remarked Jack. "It 
 was n't much, and that 's aU. there was of it. I don't 
 see why people make such a fuss." 
 
 "Suppose you let this suffice for the day, you 
 rascals," said Mr. Lyndsay. 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " And it was n't Raleigh who brought tobacco to 
 England, was it, Aunt Anne?" said Ned. "I told 
 Dick it was Hawkins, and he would n't believe me. 
 I saw it in — " 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 Ned hesitated. His habit of lying on his stomach 
 on the floor in the long winter afternoons, with some 
 monstrous quarto, was matter for unending chaff on 
 the part of the twins. 
 
 "Where was it, old Book Gobbler?" cried Dick. 
 "Where was it?" 
 
 " It was in HoUinshead's Chronicles," returned the 
 lad, coloring. 
 
 "You are right," said Aunt Anne. "You would 
 do better to read a little more yourself, Jack, than to 
 laugh at Ned." 
 
 " What 's the use, if I am going to West Point? " 
 said Jack. 
 
66 WHEN AXiL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 " You will find out, I fancy, wlien you get there," 
 remarked Rose. " I am told it is dreadful." 
 
 " Well, there 's time enough to think about it," re- 
 turned Jack, with his usual philosophical calm. "I 
 wish it was n't Sunday. Oh, dear ! " and he groaned 
 in anticipation of the dullness of the day. 
 
 " Jack ! " exclaimed the mother. " Oh, Jack ! " 
 
 " "Well, you can't go to church, and there 's no fish- 
 ing ; and, mother, you know you don't like us to read 
 novels on Sunday, and I 've read voyages until I 
 know all there are up here, — and I don't see what a 
 fellow is to do." 
 
 " I shall read the service before you all scatter." 
 
 "Well, that does n't take long." 
 
 As a means of passing the time, this device of her 
 sister-in-law enormously delighted Anne. " I confess 
 to a certain amount of sympathy with the unem- 
 ployed. It is a Sabbath lockout." 
 
 Margaret turned on her with abruptness; but 
 Lyndsay said, quickly: 
 
 " My dear Anne, this is Margaret's business. Keep 
 out of other folks' small wars. You are as bad as Jack." 
 
 " That is true, Archie. I am a conversational free 
 lance. I beg pardon, Margaret. I will never, never 
 do it again." 
 
 " Not until the next time," returned Mrs. Lyndsay, 
 with unusual ascerbity. " It is really of no moment," 
 she added, " but I like to manage the boys myself." 
 
 " You are right. I was wrong to meddle." 
 
 "I propose," said Lyndsay, "that the two Gasp6 
 men shall take you fellows up the Arrapedia. You 
 wiU find it hard work if they let you pole, and you 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 67 
 
 can't drown there if you try; and the black flies, 
 mosquitos, and midges will make you miserable. 
 And, Jack, come here, — nearer. This in your ear: 
 at the second bend there is an old clearing, and under 
 the eaves of the cabin — now, don't let it out — there 
 is a mighty nest of hornets. I recommend it to your 
 attention. I owe them a grudge." 
 
 Jack's face flushed with joy. 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 Mrs. Lyndsay said, " "What is it, Archie ? " 
 
 "Oh, nothing; a little secret between Jack the 
 Giant Killer and his pa." Lyndsay had a pretty dis- 
 tinct notion that fighting hornets as a Sunday dis- 
 traction would not be altogether to his wife's taste. 
 
 " Don't teU, Jack." 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Honor bright ! " 
 
 " All right, sir." 
 
 " Won't you teU us ? " asked Ned of his father. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " But I have an irresistible curiosity," said the boy. 
 
 "And I have an impenetrable resolution to hold 
 my tongue. You are to sail under sealed orders." 
 One of his delights was to offer problems to this 
 sturdy young intellect. " Suppose, sir," — and he put 
 the old scholiast question, — "If the impenetrable 
 were to meet the irresistible, what would happen ? " 
 
 " That would be a row," said Jack. 
 
 Ned had a deep dislike to being beaten by these ab- 
 surd questions. His detestation of intellectual defeat 
 was as deep as his brother's disgust at physical dis- 
 comfiture. He hesitated, flushed, and replied: 
 
68 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 " It could n't be at all, father, because it says in the 
 Bible that the world wUl be destroyed, and, if there 
 was an impenetrable, that could n't be at all, — I say it 
 could n't be." 
 
 " Shade of Confucius ! " exclaimed Anne. 
 
 " But suppose." 
 
 " I can't." He had a sense of wrath at the question. 
 At last he said, "You might as well ask a fellow 
 what would happen i£ the impossible met the incom- 
 prehensible." 
 
 " Glory ! what dictionary words ! " cried Dick. 
 
 "Pretty well, old fellow," said Lyndsay, laughirtg 
 as they rose. 
 
 " Oh, I hate things like that." 
 
 "Rose, Rose, put some lunch in a basket. We 
 shall make a day of it. We will take the skiff and 
 Tom. Put my note-book and pencils in the basket, 
 and your sketch-book ; and don't forget my field-glass. 
 Won't you come, Margaret ? " 
 
 "No; I am going to Mrs. Maybrook's this morning, 
 and, Archie, I want Hiram to attend to something at 
 the church where Harry is. Don't trouble about me." 
 
 " Anne, won't you come with us ? " 
 
 "No; I am not good for all day. I shall go and 
 have a talk with Mrs. Maybrook this afternoon. If I 
 lie down until then, I may manage it. Margaret says 
 it sweetens one for a week to see that woman. I 
 mean to try the recipe." 
 
 " I am getting very curious about her," said Rose ; 
 "and there is so much to do, and I must catch a 
 salmon to-morrow." 
 
 " We kiU salmon," said Lyndsay. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE OEEEN 69 
 
 " But you catch them with a pole and a line." 
 
 " No ; they catch themselves ; and we call it a rod, 
 miss, please." 
 
 " Yes, Marcus Aurelius." 
 
 "At ten o'clock, sauce-box; and get your wits in 
 order." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir ! " and she touched her forehead and 
 went to seem-e their lunch. 
 
 Anne took a book, as usual, and went out to lie 
 under the porch in a hammock. The boats got away, 
 and still she lay quiet. Delicate of features, the 
 mouth and larrge gray eyes her only beauties; her 
 nose fine, but large for the rest of her face, and aqui- 
 line ; her forehead square, with a mass of brown hair 
 set too high above its pallor for good looks, perhaps 
 justified the common notion that Anne Lyndsay 
 never had been even pretty. Tears of pain and en- 
 durance had lessened, not increased, her natural irri- 
 tability, and given to her face an expression of singu- 
 lar force. It may be added that she was a trifle vain 
 of the small hands and feet which she, like all of her 
 people, possessed. 
 
 As she lay at more than usual ease, dreamily happy 
 as she noticed the sun, the shadows, and the far- 
 stretching curves of the river, she saw a dugout, 
 what in the North is called a pirogue,^ put out frbm 
 the farther bank. A woman stood in the stem and 
 urged it across the swift current with notable 
 strength and dexterity. Presently it ran onto the 
 beach, and Dorothy Maybrook came up the steps, a 
 basket in her hand. 
 
 1 Spanish, piriagua. 
 
70 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 As to most things, all books, and people in general, 
 Anne Lyndsay had a highly vitalized curiosity ; but, 
 as to this woman, it was more eager than usual. She 
 was mildly skeptical as to the fact that the wife of a 
 small Quaker farmer, iUy educated, and, of course, 
 without the tact which makes sympathy acceptable, 
 could have been what Margaret Lyndsay said this 
 woman had been to her in the last summer's trial. 
 Anne was apt to distrust Mrs. Lyndsay's unwonted 
 enthusiasms. Also, this invalid lady was very demo- 
 cratic in theory, but by nature's decree an aristocrat, 
 whether she would or not. Thus, Anne Lyndsay 
 was now a little on her guard, and more curious than 
 she would have liked to have been thought. 
 
 But when, as Dorothy Maybrook advanced, a pair 
 of large gray eyes came into the horizon of another 
 pair almost as luminous, Anne, as she afterward ex- 
 plained, felt something akin to fascination. She made 
 up her mind as Mrs. Maybrook approached that her 
 facial expression was one of strange purity of repose. 
 The next moment Miss Anne cast a foot over the 
 hammock's edge, and made an effort to rise, in order 
 to greet the new-comer. But to get out of a ham- 
 mock with ease is not given to mortals to achieve 
 without much practice, and as all rapid movements 
 were sure to summon at once her unrelenting enemy, 
 pain, she fell back with a low exclamation, wrung 
 from her by pain so extreme that she was quite un- 
 prepared. Sudden anger stirred within her, because 
 she had so plainly betrayed her feelings to one who 
 had been described to her as full of sympathy and 
 almost incredibly competent to notice the peculiari- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 71 
 
 ties of men and things. If this woman should dare 
 to pity her, in words or with looks ! 
 
 "Good morning. Mrs. Maybrook, I am sure. I 
 am Miss Lyndsay," said Miss Anne, in her most tran- 
 quil voice, and it was capable of many tones. 
 
 Said Dorothy to herself, " That woman is n't long 
 for this world." What she said aloud was : 
 
 "Yes, I 'm Dorothy Maybrook. I brought over 
 some wild strawberries for Mrs. Lyndsay. They 're 
 very early, but there 's a sort of little nest right 
 back of our clearing, and the sun gets in there con- 
 stant, — seems as if it could n't ever get out, — and it 
 hatches the berries two weeks before they 're done 
 blooming anywhere else." 
 
 " Thank you," said Anne, who was making a difl- 
 cult effort to catch with the foot outside of the ham- 
 mock a slipper lost in the foiled attempt to rise. 
 
 Mrs. Maybrook set down the berries, and without 
 a word went on her knees, took the dainty slipper, 
 lifted the foot, bestowed a glance of swift curiosity 
 upon it as she put on the sHpper, and gently replaced 
 the foot in the hammock. 
 
 " Sakes alive ! If I was a man, I 'd just say it 's 
 beautiful. Being a woman, I 'd like to know how 
 you walk on them?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't very much ; not nowadays," returned 
 Anne, smiling. " Thank you." 
 
 It was a neat little shot, although quite unconscious 
 of aim. Miss Anne tried to think she disliked both 
 the help and the outspoken admiration. She made a 
 feeble effort to generalize the compliment, and so to 
 get away from its personal application : 
 
72 WHEN ALL THE "WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 " It 's a family failing, Mrs. Maybrook. Even our 
 men have absurdly small hands and feet. I should 
 have offered you a camp-chair. Get one, please, out 
 of the house. I am quite incapable of helping any 
 one, — even myself." Mrs. Maybrook did as Anne 
 desired, and sat down. 
 
 "My sister-in-law was going to see you to-day. 
 Shall I call her? She must be in her room." 
 
 " Oh, there 's time enough. That 's the only thing 
 we have a plenty of up here. We ain't time-starved, 
 I can tell you." Anne began to be interested. Quaint- 
 ness of phrase was a thing so rare. For a few 
 minutes she had been struggling with one of her few 
 weaknesses. At last she gave way : 
 
 " Excuse me, but would you be so kind as to put 
 the basket of strawberries in the house? The sun 
 will spoil them." 
 
 " Oh, but the sun is good for them. They won't 
 take any hurt." 
 
 " But I shall. The fact is, when I was a girl I was 
 picking strawberries in the White Hills, and a snake — 
 oh, a rattlesnake — struck at me. I have been ever 
 since unable to endure the odor of strawberries. I 
 think it becomes worse as I grow more feeble. It is 
 very absurd." She was absolutely pleading her 
 weakness to this simple woman, and had, ceased for 
 the time to be self-critical. 
 
 Mrs. Maybrook rose, and without more words, after 
 carrying the basket to the cook's house, returned 
 around the cabin to her seat facing Miss Anne. The 
 smile she wore as she came back would usually have 
 been taken by Anne for vulgar comment on her own 
 
WHEN ALL THK WOODS ABE GREEN 73 
 
 display of what might, with reason, have been taken 
 for pare affectation. Now it struck Anne as being like 
 her own habit of smiling large, or smiling small, as 
 she said, at some humorous aspect of the passing hour. 
 
 " What amuses you ? " she queried pleasantly. 
 
 " Oh, I was just a-thinking you might feel about 
 those berries like Mrs. Eve might of felt when she 
 was coming on in years and one of her grandchildren 
 fetched her a nice, red apple. Guess he got warmed 
 for it. Sandals might have come handy in big 
 families, those days ! " 
 
 Anne looked up, laughing gaily, and noting by the 
 exception how rarely Mrs. Maybrook failed in her 
 grammar. 
 
 " Delightful ! Now I feel historically justified. Are 
 there any snakes here ? " 
 
 " Oh, no ; none to hurt. But, bless me, I never can 
 hear about snakes without thinking of Sairy Kitchins." 
 
 "And what was that?" said Miss Lyndsay, enjoy- 
 ing talk with a mind as fresh and unconventional as 
 her guest's. 
 
 " Oh, it ain't much. You see, I 've had asthma so 
 bad that Hiram and me, since the children are gone, 
 we have traveled here and there, trying to find a 
 place where I would n't have it." 
 
 " Have you suffered much ? " said Anne. 
 
 "Yes, — quite my share. But there are worse 
 things." 
 
 " That is so." 
 
 "Hiram and me get along most anywhere. We 
 have a bit of money, — not overmuch. We are both 
 pretty handy, and once we tried it two years down 
 
74 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 South, at Maaysville, in Alabama. That was a right 
 nice place for snakes." 
 
 "Gracious Heavens! You talk as if you liked 
 them." 
 
 "Well, they 're handsome, and brave, and don't 
 want to hurt you ; and how many men can you say 
 that about?" 
 
 " A fair defense," said Anne ; " but what of Sairy 
 Kitchins T I love a story j I am like a child." 
 
 "Well, Sairy she had just come that spring. She 
 was the wife of one of them Methodist preachers that 
 don't be let to bide long anywhere, — the kind that 
 goes about the land seeking whom they may devour. 
 As I came along the road with her there was a six- 
 foot rattler lying right across in the sun. Down went 
 Sairy on her knees. ' Good lands ! ' said I, ' what 's 
 the good prayin' to that reptile? A whole camp- 
 meeting could n't convert him.' Well, we could n't 
 get by him, and so I got a good, big stick of live oak, 
 and fetched him a crack on the head, and one or two 
 more to make sure. Then I said, 'Come along, Sairy ; 
 he won't sin any more ; if that fool of a woman, Eve, 
 had had any sense, and a live-oak stick handy, there 
 would n't have been no need of you and me going to 
 meeting this hot day.' " 
 
 " I should think not," cried Anne, laughing. " And 
 what did Sairy say ? I am quite on her side." 
 
 " Oh, she told her husband, and I got prayed over a 
 heap. It 's amazing how clear those preachers see the 
 sins of other people." 
 
 " I think it a delightful story. I shall tell the boys 
 to-night. I have n't laughed as much in a month." 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 75 
 
 " Dear me ! It must be ten o'clock," said Mrs. May- 
 brook, looking up at the sun, " and I must see Mrs. 
 Lyndsay, and go home to cook Hii-am's dinner. But 
 I would like to see the house. Ton know last year 
 they tented. When I was here yesterday no one was 
 about, and so I did not go in to look. I was dying to 
 see it." 
 
 Anne smiled. " Help me a little." 
 
 The hand she met with hers was strong, well-mod- 
 eled, and — if tanned by sun, and showing signs of 
 toil in the broken nails — was, like the gown, scrupu- 
 lously clean. Dorothy wore no head-cover, and her 
 hair, which was fine and abundant, lay in flat, old- 
 fashioned style on her temples, and was caught back 
 in an ample and perfectly neat coil. Again, as Anne 
 rose, the look of repose on Dorothy's face, and also 
 the absence of lines of care, struck her no less than 
 the regularity of features. There was none of the 
 slouch of labor ; Dorothy sat erect, without touching 
 the back of the chair ; a woman of fifty or over, and 
 still keeping many of the gracious curves of feminine 
 matuiity. 
 
 But what interested Anne most in Mrs. Maybrook 
 as they moved about the room — which was haU, 
 dining-room, and sitting-room — was her simple plea- 
 sure in the white curtains Mrs. Lyndsay had tied up 
 with gay ribbons, the cane seats, and the covers of 
 light Eastern stuffs, not very remarkable or costly, 
 but, as it seemed, pleasing to the visitor. Anne 
 thought she would have noticed the books, but of 
 these she made no mention, albeit the collection was 
 odd enough, because every one had brought what 
 
76 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 they liked, and the cleverly built book-shelves Pierre 
 had made were full to overflow. 
 
 Very soon Mrs. Lyndsay appeared, gave the visitor 
 a more than usually warm welcome, and at last asked 
 about the Colketts and the child. 
 
 " It died last night," said Mrs. Maybrook. " I was 
 up there pretty early to-day. They 're awful hard 
 folks to help any ; it 's like setting up ten-pins, and 
 down they go, in a minute. Hiram says they have n't 
 any ' gitalongativeness.' That 's a great word with 
 Hiram." 
 
 " Do they want help ? What is there we can do ? " 
 said Mrs. Lyndsay. 
 
 " I would n't know to tell you. Oh, dear, if I was 
 that man, I 'd drink, too." 
 
 "No! No!" 
 
 "Yes, I 'd drink! He did, some, yesterday; but 
 I judge he 's taken none since Mr. Lyndsay was 
 there. The fact is, Mrs. Lyndsay, Susan Colkett 
 cared more for those children of hers than for her 
 first man or Colkett, or anybody else, except herself. 
 She 's just savage now, like a bear that has had its 
 cubs taken away. And the worst of it is, she has n't 
 got the means of wisdom in her, and never had, or 
 else she 'd have seen you can't live in a pigsty and 
 bring up live children. Oh ! Tou were asking if 
 they want anything?" 
 
 "Yes, Dorothy." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Carington he went over yesterday 
 afternoon. I guess he took the short cut or he would 
 have met Mr. Lyndsay coming out. Mr. Carington 
 must be a pretty nice man. There 's not many as 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 77 
 
 young would give up Saturday afternoon fishing, 
 even a bit of it, to go and see about a sick brat. 
 Fishermen 's generally right selfish. He left them 
 twenty dollars. But he had the high-up sense to 
 give it to Susie. He 's a well set-up young man ; I 
 saw him poling a pirogue across. It takes a lot of 
 judgment in a man's legs to handle a dugout." 
 
 " But you do it well, I fancy," said Anne. 
 
 " Yes, but I 'm a woman." 
 
 " Good," said Miss Lyndsay, and went out, leaving 
 the others to talk alone. 
 
 Then Dorothy said, "What troubles that woman 
 the most you could n't think, not if you lived as long 
 as Noah." 
 
 "And what is it?" 
 
 "It 's because there won't be any tombstone. 
 They 're aU buried in the wood back of the cabin. 
 Poor little kittens, just dead drownded in filth. She 
 had better have thought more for them when they 
 were alive." 
 
 " I will speak to Mr. Lyndsay about it." 
 
 " It would be just that much wasted." 
 
 "Money is well wasted sometimes. You might 
 think of the box of ointment, Dorothy." 
 
 "It 's a long way between them two wastings." 
 
 " Perhaps. I don't know. We shall see." 
 
 " Well, I must go and cook Hiram's dinner. Good- 
 by." And she went out and down to her dugout. 
 
 " What do you think of her, Anne ! " said Mrs. Lynd- 
 say, as the maiden lady came out of her own room. 
 
 "I think her most interesting, and altogether a 
 remarkable person." 
 
78 "WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 "A heart of gold!" said Mrs. Lyndsay. "You 
 cannot imagine, Anne, what that woman was to me 
 last summer." 
 
 " I can, — I think I can now." Mrs. Lyndsay went 
 back to some household occupation, and Anne, re- 
 turning to her hammock, lay thoughtfully watching 
 the retreating pirogue and its capable guide, and 
 smiling ever as was her habit. 
 
 Then she spoke aloud: 
 
 "That beats Marcus Aurelius. To have lost all 
 her children, to have had sickness, — poverty, and not 
 a wrinkle to record it all. That woman must have 
 the self -contentment of a first-class angel. Ah, me ! " 
 And she turned again to the "Life of John, Lord 
 Lawrence," and was soon smiling over it, for in her 
 heroic lives found glad and ready recognition. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 HE light Gasp6 canoe sped away up 
 stream close to the shores, with 
 Archibald Lyndsay and Eose. They 
 were contentedly quiet for an hour 
 or more, and at last left behind them 
 the island camp and its white tents, 
 and then the last of the clearings and the lower 
 alluvial meadows with their richly feathered elms. 
 As they went on, the hills were more abrupt and 
 closer to the river, or precipitous past the power of 
 the hardiest pines to find more than here and there 
 a foothold. 
 
 And now Lytidsay laughed, and Rose, curious, 
 inquired why. 
 
 "I was thinking of the boys"; and he told her 
 of the hornets' nest. 
 
 " I don't think the dear mother will like it," said 
 Rose. 
 
 " Perhaps, — oh, assuredly not ; but what on earth 
 can one do with three young steam-engines ? " 
 
 "It 's very, very dreadful, papa, and do not tell; 
 but I would like to be present at the siege of the 
 hornets' nest. It must be awfully good fun." 
 "What was that you said?" 
 "I said awfully good fun. And also I desire to 
 
80 WHEN AliL THE WOODS ARE OEEEN 
 
 add that this is my day, and I shall say what I please, 
 do what I please, talk slang and bad grammar by the 
 yard if I want to." 
 
 "As you like, — I make but one condition: there is to 
 be none of that wading into deep waters of which you 
 and Anne are so fond. I get enough of that at home, 
 in my work. This is to be a tree-and-water day. I 
 want to push on first up to the burnt lands. Some 
 twenty years ago the upper country was burned off, 
 so that, between the hills and the river are long 
 abrupt slopes with low underbrush and millions of 
 dead trees. The tops of the hills are also covered 
 with the same mighty stubble." 
 
 " But that cannot be beautiful." 
 
 " No and yes. I fished above there one year, and 
 for some days I found the desolation most oppressive. 
 Then, one evening, I saw something in these gray 
 dead trees, and ever since I have seen in them more 
 and more that is strange or even beautiful." 
 
 " I think I have felt like that at times, — as if of a 
 sudden I had become another person, and saw with 
 strange eyes. Once we were looking at Ruysdael's 
 pictures ; it was at Amsterdam, and Aunt Anne said 
 how delightful it would be just in a moment to see 
 the world of things as a great master does, or the 
 world of men as a poet may." 
 
 " What spirit made me his own I do not know, my 
 dear," said Lyndsay ; " but, if he fled, he left me some 
 permanent property. There is a bit of St. Clair's 
 verse which puts it fairly." 
 
 "Anditis — Pardy?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 81 
 
 " I think I can repeat it, but I am never sure about 
 my quotations : 
 
 ' If from the vantage of thy wiser heart 
 I could look out on nature through thine eyes, 
 
 I think that I should learn a novel art. 
 And joyful capture some divine surprise. 
 
 The tiny morrow of the opening rose, 
 With kindred comment of thy genius viewed, 
 
 Might to love's wisdom eagerly disclose 
 The mystery of some new beatitude.' 
 
 Perhaps you will like my dead trees at first sight." 
 
 " I can hardly fancy that." 
 
 " Oh, you may. The afternoon is the time for the 
 water. The black flies are pretty thick, Rose, eh?" 
 
 " They don't trouble me," she returned. " I can't 
 say why. They bite, and that is aU." 
 
 " I never could account for the exceptions," he said. 
 " Ned is tormented by them, and they hardly touch 
 Jack." 
 
 " How curious ! " 
 
 "Yes. My own foes are the sand-flies, what are 
 called by the Indians ' no-see-ums,' and in Pennsyl- 
 vania pungies. I brought a little smudge-pot and a 
 small A-tent, just to give you shelter at need." Mean- 
 while the poles rang ceaselessly, and the talk went on. 
 
 " I think, Pardy, the landscape under the water is 
 almost as attractive as that above it. The stones 
 seem to be all colors, and, I suppose, all shapes, be- 
 cause they play such queer tricks with the water. 
 I never noticed until yesterday that when a wave 
 
82 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GBEEN 
 
 rolls over a large, smootli rock it takes perfectly the 
 form of a shell, — I think I mean a scallop-shell." 
 
 "That is so, Rose. There, over there, is an ex- 
 ample. I think it a very pretty idea, — one might be 
 ingeniously poetical about it, but one won't." 
 
 By and by the stream stretched out shallow and 
 broad, and the men took their paddles. Then they 
 turned a sharp angle of the river and came among 
 the burnt lands. Here and there a few great trees 
 had strangely survived the fire, and towered high, 
 green cones among the ruin. 
 
 " I can see no beauty in it," said Rose. 
 
 " I said it was strange, interesting, and had certain 
 beauties. Wait a little. Land us on the island, 
 Tom, — at the upper end. There wUl be more air. 
 There is a good bit of grass and a spring near by." 
 
 Pretty soon the tent was up, and the smudge-pot, 
 full of cedar bark, lighted. There was some wind, 
 however, and the flies were not annoying. 
 
 " But what am I to sketch ? " 
 
 " Let us sit in the opening of the tent. And now, 
 my pipe. Let us first consider, Rosy, the eccentrici- 
 ties of these burnt trees. I want a sketch of some 
 of them." 
 
 "Why are they not black? I see very few that 
 are charred." 
 
 " Ask Tom, — it will amuse you." She did so. 
 
 " Them trees, when there 's a fire, and there ain't 
 too many pines and firs, the fire it just eats up their 
 leaves and scorches their hides." 
 
 "Bark?" 
 
 "Yes; and the winds and the frost and the sun. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 83 
 
 they peels off the dead hides. After that them trees 
 lasts powerful long. But if the bark be on, they 
 rots." 
 
 "What I want just now, Rose, is to get you to 
 look at those few isolated skeletons of dead trees on 
 the point. There are many as odd in the wood- 
 tangle below, but these above you can more readily 
 sketch for me, because they stand by themselves. 
 We will come back to the rest by and by." 
 
 " Oh, my deal', dear M. A., what a fine master you 
 are ! I used to long for you, and that book we were 
 to write, on the 'Art of Seeing.' " 
 
 " Yes, I have taught myself to see. While you are 
 sketching I will lecture a little." 
 
 " And just what do you wish me to draw ? " 
 
 " Take your field-glass and look at the trees on the 
 point. Now, the one at the edge, — look at it ; I do 
 not want to tell you about it, I want you to see." 
 
 " Well," said Rose, talking as she sat in the tent- 
 shadow, the glass at her eyes, "I see a tall dead 
 tree, — a fir f No, a dead spruce, — probably a spruce, 
 I am not sure. It is gray, and has only two great 
 limbs left, and a tuft of dead twigs above — and — 
 the trunk is oddly twisted to the left." 
 
 "Now you are getting warm, as the children say. 
 Hey, Rose?" 
 
 "I see," she cried, with a real joy in her mind; 
 and, taking her pencil, swiftly drew the desolate 
 dead thing, while Lyndsay looked on. 
 
 " Grood ! " he said ; " very good. You have it pre- 
 cisely, I will make a word-sketch, and we will com- 
 pare work. I can't draw a straight line, as you know. 
 
84 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 I conceive of the other world, not entirely as a place 
 to develop our own qualities, but where there will be 
 a pleasant interchange of capacities. There, my dear, 
 I shall sing like NUsson and paint like Velasquez." 
 
 "I think I coiild myself make some pleasant ex- 
 changes," said Rose. " Those stiff lines of the dead 
 branchless firs and pines, set against that dark 
 cloud, — they remind me of the lances in that great 
 picture by Velasquez at Madrid, — the Surrender of 
 Breda. I loved the two men in that picture. Reque- 
 sens is taking the keys of the town from Don John 
 of Nassau, and he is just saying, ' Might have hap- 
 pened to any fellow, — so sorry for you ! ' You know, 
 papa?" 
 
 "No, I do not. But I recall Maebeth's etching 
 of the picture. Go on with your sketch. Mine will 
 be done in a few minutes." 
 
 Then he wrote in his note-book again, glancing 
 now and then at the tree. 
 
 " Listen, Rose. How is this ? ' Tree sketch : dead 
 tree; no bark; cool gray all over; stands alone on 
 point of land. Trunk twisted; only two limbs; 
 bunched end-twigs. Limbs raised like arms.' Now, 
 if — mind, if it says to you — I mean if it has for 
 you a distinct expression — I hate affectation here 
 and everywhere: but if this distorted thing really 
 expresses for you — something — label it!" 
 
 Rose was stUl a moment, and then said, "It is 
 rooted there, still, alone. It seems to be turning 
 back toward its fellows. It suggests to me utter 
 fJreariness. What have you found to say about it, 
 Pardy!" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 85 
 
 " See, dear, I have written, as I often do at the end 
 of a word-sketch: 'Loneliness, suffering; isolated 
 anguish, if you like.'" 
 
 " I see. How very, very interesting ! It seems to 
 remember the fire, father." It was sometimes this, 
 and sometimes Pardy, or Marcus Aurelius, or any 
 queer pet-name of nursery origin. 
 
 " You begin to see what one may get out of a dead 
 tree?" 
 
 " Yes. There is another, below, — just below." 
 
 " Yes ; I sketched it last year. Here it is : ' Dead 
 tree; poplar; split by lightning; black and gray. 
 The lower half thrown out like a leg. Above, one 
 limb has fallen against the trunk ; top of tree tufted 
 and thrown back. Queer expression of jollity .' Sketch 
 it, dear. 
 
 " How ready you are ! " he said, over her shoulder. 
 " Look at the one farther away, — bent back with two 
 gi-eat limbs high in air. It is prayer, deprecation — 
 dread : I am not sure, — and again, before you draw 
 it, look across to the other side. This is my sketch. 
 ' Late twilight ; a huge, gray rock in the water. 
 Deep cleft in it; out of this rises a dead pine. It 
 leans toward me. Two vast limbs extended right 
 and left. Top tufted as usual, and bent to one side. 
 All set against a bleak mass of boulders.'" 
 
 " I see, even in this light ; but at dusk ! at dusk 
 it must be terrible, — a crucifixion ! " 
 
 " Yes, that is it. It recalls to me an odd thing. 
 A few years ago I was fishing as late as ten o'clock 
 at night on the Metapedia, and, looking up, saw on 
 the hiU above me a cross set against the blood-red, 
 
86 WHEN AliL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 newly risen moon. Next morning I perceived that it 
 was only a telegraph-pole with its cross-bar," 
 
 " What a theme for Heine ! " said Rose. 
 
 " Yes, indeed. Now sketch me this, and the other 
 trees. I want only just mere hints of form. There 
 are no end of strange things among dead trees. I 
 could not exhaust them in hours of description. 
 There was last year a fallen tree on an island near 
 our camp. I suppose the mass of stuff sent down by 
 freshets protected it below, and the ice and so on swept 
 away the branches which lay uppermost. At last the 
 wreckage was washed off. When I came on it at 
 evening it looked like one of those prehistoric lizards 
 Dicky delights in. There were many legs on each side 
 as it lay and — " 
 
 " Do let me see, Pardy. You drew it ? " and she 
 laughed. " I don't think it would go into the Salon. 
 There ought to be a place for embryo art like this." 
 
 " Like ' Rejected Addresses ' ? " 
 
 " Yes ; the real ones." 
 
 " Do you frame yours. Rose ? " 
 
 " Oh, for shame ! " 
 
 "Who rose to that fly?" 
 
 " But you coldly planned it. It was base." 
 
 " Poor thing ! " he laughed — 
 
 "The wail of the salmon 
 A man tried to gammon. 
 
 Alas, poor Rose ! " 
 
 " Wait a bit. As Jack says, ' That drawing is 
 unique.' " 
 
 " I am quite proud of it. I wanted to give you the 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 87 
 
 lesson. Now I will smoke and talk and take mine 
 ease, while you draw." 
 
 " I can talk and sketch, too." 
 
 " No doubt. On the Nipigon River there is a long 
 carry once burned over. After the fire must have 
 come a windfall. The whole blasted forest went down 
 before it. It lies to-day a grim tangle of gray or black 
 trunks, with huge agonized arms extended upward. 
 At dusk it is very striking. Years went by, and then 
 I saw the dead Confederates lying below Round Top 
 the day after the fight, with arms and legs in rigid 
 extension, — a most horrible memory. As I looked, it 
 recalled that wrecked forest." 
 
 " How dreadful, Pardy ! I think I could draw those 
 trees as you describe them. I will try to-morrow." 
 
 Meanwhile, as she sketched, he went on : 
 
 " The growth of power to see is a curiously interest- 
 ing thing. There is a disease or disorder called ' mind- 
 blindness,' about which the doctor was telling me a 
 few weeks ago. People who have it see things only 
 as a mirror sees, and cannot give them names ; but if 
 they touch or handle them, are able to say what they 
 are, or to tell their uses. Think, now, of a baby. It 
 merely sees things as a mirror sees. Later, it learns 
 the qualities of things seen, remembers them, learns 
 to group them, and so to say at last what the thing 
 is, or is for. Some people seem to stop in their educa- 
 tion a little way beyond their baby gains, and at 
 least never learn to get out of mere observation 
 any pleasure." 
 
 " But one may make many uses of this power to 
 see. Now, the poets — " 
 
88 WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 " Stop a moment. The poets get an absurd amount 
 of credit for being able to see as other men do not; 
 but, really, the pleasantest people for a woodland 
 walk are those naturalists who see far more than the 
 poet, and combine with their science, or have with it, 
 the love of things for the mere beauty in them. I 
 never did walk with a poet in a wood. I think I 
 should see all he saw." 
 
 " But not the same way." 
 
 " I would dispute that, if you mean to say I get less 
 pleasure, Rose. And there is some nonsense in the 
 notion that poets are very close observers of nature. 
 They vary, of course. Take "Wordsworth, he was a 
 mere child in minute observation compared to Shak- 
 spere. Tennyson is better, too, — oh, by far ; and any 
 clever naturalist sees far more than any one of them." 
 
 " And now, I know, Pardy, you are going to advise 
 me to read Ruskin, because that is the way you always 
 used to wind up our talks." 
 
 " I was, dear." 
 
 " I must try him again. Annt Anne says we grow 
 up to the stature of certain books as we get older, and 
 at last can look them in the eyes and say, ' We under- 
 stand one another.' As to what you say of Words- 
 worth, I shall ask her what she thinks." 
 
 "We shall not differ," said Lyndsay. "I see you 
 have done your sketch. Let us have lunch. After- 
 ward, if there is time, we can take a look at these 
 trees when the evening shadows are falling. We 
 have by no means done with them." 
 
 Meanwhile Tom and his bowman had made the fire. 
 The salmon was deUciously broiled, for these wood- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 89 
 
 men are nearly all good cooks ; the potatoes roasted 
 in tlie hot ashes ; the bacon, broiled with the salmon, 
 in thin slices, brown and crisp. Rose thought there 
 could be no meal like this. It was set out on a flat 
 rock, with birch-bark for plates. The spring was a 
 little way back of them. 
 
 " Let us go for the water ourselves," said Lyndsay. 
 
 They walked down the island a hundred yards, and 
 there, in deep woods, found two rocks fallen together, 
 and under them a pretty little rise of water, bubbling 
 up out of the earth. 
 
 " That is really a spring," said Rose. " One uses 
 words until one forgets to think of their meaning. 
 How cold it is!" 
 
 " Yes 38°, — and delicious." He twisted a bit of red 
 birch-bark into a cup, and put a split twig at each end 
 to keep it together. Then he filled it, and she drank, 
 throwing her hair back with one hand, and flashing 
 laughter over the brim of the cup from eyes the color 
 of which has never been rightly settled to this day. 
 
 " More lunch. Rose ? " 
 
 " A little jam and a biscuit." 
 
 Archibald Lyndsay lit a pipe and lay upon his back 
 on the meager grasses, with hands clasped behind his 
 head. His eyes wandered from the clouds overhead 
 to Rose, and thence to wood or stream. 
 
 "The court has dined, M. A.," she said. "What 
 now?" 
 
 " I am afraid," he returned, " it is too late for you 
 to sketch in colors the trees, or even a bit of them. 
 I wanted to get your notion of the tints ; but look at 
 this — I am not quite sure I myself see colors at their 
 
90 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 true values. There is no standard in wMcli to try 
 our sense of color. I am sure some men see a tint 
 bright, and some see it darker, and then some artists 
 are sensational in their statement of colors on canvas." 
 
 " I should like to try." 
 
 " We are a little too late ; but the sun is back of 
 us yet. That is essential. Now, keep in shadow, 
 and tell me the color of those sun-Ut myriads of dead 
 pine and fir and spruce and poplar." 
 
 " How they shine ! " 
 
 " Yes ; they are very hard, and polished by storm 
 and sun. They are about a hundred yards distant. 
 Near by they are silvery-gray. At their feet is a 
 mass of young birch and beech, and feathered ferns 
 below, along the margin." 
 
 "They are purple, — clear, distinct purple," said 
 Rose. " Of course, they are purple." 
 
 "Tes. Now look at the river." All between the 
 two observers and the trees was a swift flow of 
 hastening water, faintly fretted all over by the un- 
 derlying brown and gray and white stones of the 
 bottom, — a tremulous brown mirror. 
 
 " Oh, the beautiful things ! " cried Rose. " Purple 
 reflections, — deeper purple than the trees. How they 
 wriggle ! " 
 
 " Put me the two purples on paper." 
 
 " There ! " she said, " that is as I see them." 
 
 " And I," he returned, — " for me they should be a 
 much deeper, purer tint. That is the difference be- 
 tween your color sense and mine." 
 
 " Is it true, Pardy, that there may be colors no man 
 has seen f " 
 
WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ARE GREEN 91 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And sounds no man has heard ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " * Heard sounds are sweet, but sounds unheard are 
 sweeter.' " 
 
 "Your quotation sets one's imagination free to 
 rove. Think of extending the gamut of human 
 thought. I cannot imagine that; and, as to your 
 poet, he did not mean, I suppose, the sounds man 
 never heard are sweeter ; but then one has his free- 
 dom of interpreting the words of genius. They al- 
 ways build better than they know." 
 
 "Aunt Anne says that is so beautifully illustrated 
 by the view a man of science would take to-day of 
 St. Paul's words : ' The eye cannot say to the hand, 
 I have no need of thee.' " 
 
 " The point is well taken, as we lawyers say. But 
 that must do for to-day. Come, Tom, you and Bill 
 can smoke your pipes in the middle of the skifif. Put 
 Miss Rose in the bow, I will take the stern." 
 
 " And am I to paddle ? What fun ! " 
 
 " Yes. In with you." And the boat fled away down 
 the swift waters, with here and there, where the bil- 
 lows rolled high over a deeply hidden rock, a wild 
 roller which swept them on as with the rush of a bird 
 through space, while Rose laughed out the joy of a 
 great delight, for of all modes of motion this is the 
 most satisfying. 
 
 " It is n't difiicult," she said. 
 
 " No, and it is a noble exercise. Look ! Look, Rose ! 
 See that hawk, — no, it is an eagle. Don't you envy 
 him ? What are those lines Anne loves to quote about 
 
92 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 the hawk and the lark 1 They are called ' True Cap- 
 tivity.' " 
 
 "I forget all but the last two Unas. It contrasts 
 the two prisoners, and says of the lark : 
 
 'He has the heaven which he sings, 
 But my poor hawk has only wings.'" 
 
 " Thank you. There used to be an imprisoned hawk 
 in a cage at the lower clearing. The melancholy of 
 his great yellow eyes so troubled me that I bought 
 him, and, to Churchman's amazement, opened his 
 cage. The poor old warrior walked out, looked 
 around him, and then walked back again into volun- 
 tary captivity." 
 
 " Like the man of the Bastille." 
 
 "Yes. I shut the cage and took it down to the 
 river. There I left it, open. Next day I saw him 
 perched above it on a dead tamarack, swinging in a 
 wild wind. The day after he was gone." 
 
 " I wonder if he regrets the cage and the certainty 
 of f uU diet." 
 
 " Ah ! liberty is very sweet. I sometimes wonder 
 whether, when this earthly cage is opened, we shall 
 linger about it like my hawk." 
 
 For a time they speed onward, silent, as the shadows 
 grew across the waters. Said Lyndsay, at length: 
 " One more thing to note : the sun is down, but see 
 how that huge array of gleaming, seried tree-trunks, 
 away up on the hilltops, takes the light we have lost." 
 
 Rose looked, and saw on the far summits that the 
 multitudinous tree-stems were of a lovely lemon yel- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GKEEN 93 
 
 low, and below, where their lines crossed at the inter- 
 cepting angles of two slopes, of a pallid lilac. 
 
 " I think we have learned to use our eyes to-day. 
 No need to paddle here. Take a rest. We are going 
 at the rate of five mUes an hour." 
 
 In the gathering dusk they flitted past the camp- 
 fires on the island, and soon were at their cabia door. 
 
 "Shall I ever have another day like this?" said 
 Rose, as she ran up the steps. " Thank you, Pardy.'' 
 
CHAPTER Vn 
 
 jHEN they entered the cabin, Dick 
 was diligently counting a beetle's 
 legs, — a process the animal seemed 
 to resent. Ned, at a window, was 
 staring at the falling shadows on 
 the farther hiUs, and Jack, at the 
 door, was deep in a gruesome book of adventures by 
 sea and land. 
 
 The boys rose as Lyndsay entered. 
 "Gracious!" exclaimed Rose, observing their swol- 
 len faces. "You have not gotten ofE without honora- 
 ble wounds." Jack's face was a testimonial of valor. 
 " You seem to have found it lively." 
 " It was galumptious." 
 "What? "cried Rose. 
 
 " Oh, I was n't going to run. Those fellows, they 
 ran. I think they 're — " 
 " What ?" broke in Dick. 
 
 "None of that," said Lyndsay. "I suppose the 
 hornets did not have a very pleasing time." 
 " They licked us," said Ned. 
 " That 's because — " 
 
 "Hush," said Lyndsay, laughing. "I presume 
 there are enough left for another time?" 
 
 " Archie, how could you ? " said Mrs. Ljoidsay. " I 
 shall be glad to get these boys home alive." 
 
 94 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 95 
 
 " Oh, we are all right," cried the twins ; and they 
 went gaily to supper, and before long to bed. 
 
 When Rose got up next day it was raining; the sky 
 gray, and the waters inky black. She was reassured 
 at breakfast by her father, and told to get her water- 
 proof and high boots, and be ready for a salmon after 
 breakfast. Again Miss Anne was on hand, declaring 
 that she had not felt as well for a year, and they fell 
 to planning their day's amusements. The squirrels 
 tempted Jack and his gun. Dick and Ned were to 
 fish the upper pool, and Anne and the mother, as they 
 desired, were to be left to their own devices. 
 
 " But, Rose," said the latter, " you must see Mrs. 
 Maybrook." 
 
 "If we get any salmon, I might take her one, or 
 one of the men might carry it this afternoon. I am 
 very curious about this paragon. I don't believe 
 much in perfection, mama." 
 
 " I did not say she was that. Rose. Dorothy May- 
 brook is my friend." 
 
 "Is n't that putting it rather strongly, mama? A 
 woman in her class of life can scarcely — " 
 
 " Nevertheless, she is my friend." 
 
 " That answers all questions," said Lyndsay. 
 
 "No," said Anne, "not untU one knows your defini- 
 tion of friend. What is a friend ? " 
 
 " A fellow that wiU fight for you," said Jack. 
 
 "Then Sullivan or the 'Tipton Slasher' would be 
 the best friend," remarked Ned. 
 
 " A fellow you like," said Dick. 
 
 "How is it, Ned?" said Lyndsay. "What is a 
 friend ? " 
 
96 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 "I don't know," replied Ned, coloring as usual. "I 
 would want a lot of them." 
 
 " There is something in that," said Anne. " I never 
 found any one human being who, at all times and 
 under all stress of needs, was able to give me every- 
 thing I want of man or woman." 
 
 " I think with you, Anne," returned Lyndsay. " I 
 never could quite comprehend those all-satisfying 
 alliances one reads about, those friend-love affairs, 
 such as Shakspere had with Herbert, or whoever it 
 was. Certainly some men, and not always those who 
 have most to give, intellectually, at least, have, as was 
 said of a dead friend of mine, a genius for friendship. 
 Wherever he went, men became attached to him, — 
 they could hardly say why." 
 
 " How do you explain it ? " said Rose. 
 
 "He was quick of temper, cultivated, but not a 
 profound man, — unselfish. I think it must have 
 been chiefly because he took a large and unfailing 
 interest in other men's pursuits, and was not troubled 
 if they made no return in kind. He gave interest 
 and affection, being easily pleased, and exacted no 
 return. But it always came." 
 
 " I should have said he had a talent for friendship. 
 Genius is a large word," said Anne, 
 
 "Yes; it was only an unusual capacity, — not 
 genius." 
 
 " But what is genius ? " said Rose. 
 
 "You are getting out of my depth!" cried Mrs. 
 Lyndsay, laughing. "I shall want a life-preserver 
 pretty soon, Archie." 
 
 " I can only quote Marcus Aurelius," said Lyndsay. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 97 
 
 "He remarks — what is it he says about genius, 
 Anne!" 
 
 " No, no. We want something fresh, Pardy." 
 
 "A fine way to clap an extinguisher on wisdom." 
 
 " But I want — I do want an answer." 
 
 " Shall we say that genius is crude creative power ? 
 How wiU that do?" 
 
 " That is better than usual, Aurelius," cried Anne. 
 " It needs talent to come to anything. It would be 
 easy to illustrate. There is Blake at one end, and — 
 well — Shakspere at the other." 
 
 " May we go 1 " said Jack, yawning fearfully. 
 
 " Yes, of course. What a sight you are ! " 
 
 " They must have been good shots." 
 
 " Oh, they did well," said Ned, " and it was worse 
 than bullets. They don't get inside your pantaloons 
 and skirmish around. I 'm very uncomfortable when 
 I sit down." 
 
 " How can one die better, etc. ? " cried Dick, and, 
 riotously laughing, they ran out of doors. Margaret 
 looked after them affectionately. 
 
 " Do you remember, Archie, how you used to have 
 an unending tale for those boys when they were little, 
 of Tommy Turnip, and how he ran away, and went 
 to Russia, and was made Count Turnipsky?" 
 
 "I do, indeed, my dear. It went on for years. 
 Come, Rose, I sha'n't rest until you have killed a 
 salmon. If it rains hard all day the water will rise, 
 and then good-by salmon until it begins to fall." 
 
 "Is that so?" 
 
 " Yes. The salmon is a mysterious creature. We 
 know litUe about him; but we do know that with 
 1 
 
98 WHEN AliL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 
 
 rising water, or rapidly rising warmth of water, he 
 seems to lose curiosity as to flies. Come along." 
 
 ' I think my own curiosity collapses in hot weather," 
 said Anne. 
 
 There was now a steady fall of rain, but, well pro- 
 tected, they reached the pool. 
 
 " How black the water is ! " said Rose. Tom sat 
 quiet without the least cover, and took the ducking 
 as if it were a matter of course. Now he adjusted a 
 rather large Jock Scott. Then Rose began to cast, 
 while Lyndsay sat behind her and smoked. 
 
 "Could n't I stand?" she said. 
 
 "Yes. You will cast better, and take care you 
 don't catch the handle of the reel in your wraps. 
 Give the back cast a little more time. Count one, 
 two, three quickly. You do very well. You will 
 soon get the trick of it." 
 
 "You riz him!" roared Tom, for there was a 
 mighty swash, and half a salmon came into view. 
 
 " Sit down. Wait a little." 
 
 " Will he — do you think he will rise again ?" 
 
 " If I knew, dear, it would save much needless cast- 
 ing. Will a young man propose twice, thrice ? Who 
 can say?" 
 
 " I fail, sir, to perceive the analogy." 
 
 " My dear Rose, the too logical mind is destructive 
 of the very foundations of social gaiety. Young 
 man rises to a fly; salmon rises to a fly." 
 
 " But no right-minded woman casts a fly over. Oh, 
 they just — you know." 
 
 " No, I don't. Both the fish and the man have the 
 right of choice ; but there is some responsibility as 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 99 
 
 to the attractiveness of a Jock Scott, or a Durham 
 f anger. So, after all, the young man's anguish may 
 be the fault of the wicked milliner. As a question of 
 morals one likes to know." 
 
 " But will he— win he come back ?" 
 
 " Really, Rose, that was worthy of Sarah Siddons. 
 It might have been said of the most attractive of 
 my sex." 
 
 " Bother the men, papa ; I want my fish. What is 
 a man to a salmon ! " 
 
 " I recognize that assertion of personal ownership 
 as distinctively feminine." 
 
 " You are too bad. How it pours ! " 
 
 " Try him again. Cast out to right, and let the fly 
 come down, around the tail of the boat, with not too 
 much movement, just as if you were quite indifferent ; 
 an ordinary, every-day promenade, my dear. The 
 application is, you see, of skill acquired in one branch 
 of industry to the cultivation of another." 
 
 Of a sudden the reel ran out a little. 
 
 " Poor young man ! Sit down. Keep the tip up, so." 
 
 The fly had been tranquilly taken under water, this 
 time with no show of indecision. Rose obeyed the 
 advice, and for a moment sat expectant, the rod weU 
 bent. The delay on the part of the salmon was so 
 great that she could not understand it. 
 
 " It must be fast on something. It does n't move." 
 
 " No, the young man is n't quite sure as to what is 
 the matter. He is reflecting. Are Cupid's arrows 
 barbed, my dear 1 There ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " — for the reel ran out so fast as to make a 
 distinct musical note, and, in a moment, Rose saw 
 
100 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 the salmon flash high in the air near the farther bank. 
 
 " That can't be my young man." 
 
 " Yes. Reel, reel quick." 
 
 Meanwhile it was up anchor and away, the instant 
 the fish struck. The men shared Eose's excitement, 
 and watched the quick movements of the fish with 
 admirable understanding of when to wait or to follow. 
 The rapid reeling in Rose found hard work. 
 
 " I do think you must take the rod," she said. 
 
 "No," he cried, laughing. "I prefer not to have 
 the responsibility of other folks' flirtations. He won't 
 carry on this way very long." 
 
 But again he was off, and this time not so far. 
 Then he leaped twice, with mighty splashings of the 
 water. Meanwhile Tom was carefully getting his 
 canoe out of the heavy current, and Rose found that 
 the salmon was slowly yielding to the steady strain 
 of the rod. They were now near the bank, and in an 
 eddy. 
 
 "Look sharp, Rose," said Mr. Lyndsay. "Give 
 TiiTTi the butt." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Yes. Keep the tip back and the butt forward. 
 As the fish yields reel in a little, dropping the tip. 
 That 's right. Now, you can Eft him, as it were, by 
 throwing the butt forward again, so. Reel! reel! 
 Well handled." 
 
 " He 's a-comin'," said Tom. " He are a buster." 
 
 She could but just perceive her fish, — a dark, sha- 
 dowy thing, — a few feet away. Now he sees the man 
 with his gaff, and is off on a short run ; and again is 
 slowly reeled in. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE 6EEEN 101 
 
 " Something must break," said Rose. 
 
 "No, you can't pull more than two pounds, my 
 dear, do as you may. It seems to you a vast strain. 
 There, keep his head up-stream. Well done. Let 
 him drop back a little." 
 
 As he spoke, Tom made a quick movement and 
 gaffed his fish. In a moment it was in the boat, and 
 Rose sank back delighted. 
 
 " Here is the scale, Tom." 
 
 Tom held up the fish, with the scale-hook in the 
 gill-cover. 
 
 " Thir — ty — two — pounds, miss." 
 
 " Do let me see," she said, and examined her captive 
 with curiosity. 
 
 "A fine young man, by the neb of his lower jaw," 
 said her father. " You don't like the gaffing : I saw 
 that. Be assured that lingering hours of slow exhaus- 
 tion in the nets at the mouth of the river are far worse. 
 You could let the fish go; you could refrain from 
 fishing ; you need not eat salmon ; several ways are 
 open to the sensitive." 
 
 " I am very foolish, I dare say." 
 
 "There is some foUy that is nearer heaven than 
 some wisdom, my child. If this f oUy is incapable of 
 reasoning defense, it is stiU not one to be ashamed of. 
 We may over-cultivate our sensibilities so as, at last, 
 to become Brahminieal in our abhorrence of any de- 
 struction of life. The argument as to need for ani- 
 mal flesh is hardly a help. Men, in fact, nations, live 
 without it; and it is quite possible that we have in 
 time more or less manufactured both the appetite and 
 the need for this diet. Our nearest anatomical kins- 
 
102 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 men, the monkeys, are all vegetarians, and as for any 
 necessity to kill salmon or deer, there is nowadays 
 none. Both are mere luxuries of the rich. Not a 
 soul on these rivers ever gets a salmon, unless he 
 poaches or we give it to him." 
 
 "Is n't that hard?" 
 
 " Yes and no. Throw it all open, and in five years 
 there would be no salmon. They would go as the 
 buffalo have gone." 
 
 "And still I am sorry for the people who cannot 
 fish; the eating is another matter." 
 
 " Their fishing, dear, would be the mere use of a 
 net. But there is another point of view. We leave 
 more money on these rivers, are of more real use to 
 these boatmen and farmers, than aU the salmon they 
 might take could possibly be." 
 
 " How diflGLcult all life seems ! There are so many 
 questions." 
 
 "Fish, my dear, in peace of soul. By Thor, you 
 have a grilse ! " he cried. For now she was fast to a 
 fish of some six pounds, which was in and out of 
 water every minute, and, being too small to gaff, was 
 beached by a quick run up a sandy shore of the weU- 
 drenched fisherwoman. While Tom was weighing 
 the fish. Rose learned that a grilse was a young 
 salmon, and what a parr was, and a smolt, and a kelt, 
 and how a grilse was known by the forked tail and 
 the small scales. 
 
 " A good un to smoke," said Tom. " We split 'em, 
 miss, and salt 'em pretty well, and then hold 'em open 
 like with two sticks, and .hangs 'em over a right 
 smoky fire for a matter of four or five days. Some 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 103 
 
 makes a wigwam of bark and smokes 'em in that, but 
 it ain't needed unless you want 'em to keep long. 
 Them they sells is all dried stiff and hard. These 
 here, just dried gentle, why they 're as fine-flavored 
 as — as — angels, or a chicken porkenpine." 
 
 "A smoked angel ! " laughed Rose. " I am horribly 
 wet, but I must kill another salmon." Her hope was 
 realized, and, after an hour of hard casting, a twenty- 
 pound fish was brought to gaff in some twelve 
 minutes. 
 
 " Very good time. Rosy. I used to think no man 
 ought to be over a half -hour in killing the strongest 
 salmon. But the charm of the game lies in the amaz- 
 ing individuality of the fish. No one of them ever 
 does just what any other does. Once I was two 
 hours with a salmon, and you may have the like luck." 
 
 " I should perish of fatigue." 
 
 " "What would you think of killing ninety-two and 
 six grilse in five days? I once killed forty-two 
 striped bass in twenty-four hours, but these are 
 bonanzas. Run the boat up and empty her," he 
 added to Tom. As they stood, the rain continued 
 falling more and more heavUy through a perfectly 
 stiU atmosphere. 
 
 "Kind of falls," said Tom. 
 
 " Did it ever rain harder ? " said Rose. 
 
 "Yes, miss; there are a spot up nigh back of 
 Thunder Bay — that 's to north of Lake Superior — 
 and there it do rain in July — solid." 
 
 " Solid 1" said Lyndsay. 
 
 " I said solid. Folks moves out for a month, other- 
 wise they is drownded standin'." 
 
104 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 "That is a trapper's tale, Rose. I have heard it 
 before." 
 
 "It is near enough here to being solid to enable 
 me to believe the rest. How the boughs leap every 
 now and then as they drop their loads of rain, and 
 how slate-blue and opaque the water is ! " 
 
 "Notice these great drops: each rebounds from 
 the surface in a little column, so as to seem like black 
 spikes in the water. See, too, how the circles they 
 make cross one another without breaking. Smoke 
 rings do that," and he blew successive circlets of his 
 pipe-smoke, as he spoke, so that they passed across 
 one another, breaking and remaking their rolling 
 rings. 
 
 " Why is that ? » she said. 
 
 " I do not know. I hardly care to ask. I am in 
 the mood of mere acceptance. Oh, there is the sun, 
 Rose ! See how between the finger-like needles of 
 the pine the drops are held, and what splendid jew- 
 elry the sun is making. It needs a stiU hour for this. 
 Tou have seen a thing in its perfection quite rare." 
 
 " Must we go, Pardy ? It has done raining." 
 
 " Yes, we must go. I forgot to ask you to listen 
 to the different noises a heavy rain makes according 
 as you stand under pine or spruce, or hear it patter 
 on the flat-lying, deciduous leaves, or hum on the 
 water. Come, you must take the twenty-pounder to 
 Dorothy Maybrook. If it is not too wet, she will 
 perhaps walk up to Colkett's with you. But don't 
 go into the cabin. Tou might take for those poor 
 people two or three cans of corned beef. Meats are 
 scarce luxuries with them. They will need no money 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 105 
 
 just at present. Mr. Carington gave them some 
 help." 
 
 "Did he?" 
 
 " Yes. The child is to be buried to-morrow, I hear." 
 
 "Is Mr. Carington the young man who shot the 
 seal?" 
 
 " I suppose so, — yes. Why do you ask?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing. Idlest curiosity. Pure curiosity 
 unstained by the coarseness of a motive." 
 
 " I am answered," he said, laughing. 
 
 They were soon at home. 
 
CHAPTER Vin 
 
 FTER Rose and her father had made 
 their brief toilets, they found the fam- 
 ily at luncheon. 
 
 "I was wet to the skin, and 
 through it, I believe," said Rose. 
 "No, I sha'n't take cold, mama. 
 Nobody takes cold here. Tom must be wet through 
 to his bones — absolutely water-logged." 
 
 " The boys were a-drip like water-rats," said Mrs. 
 Lyndsay. "I am sure some of you will have pneu- 
 monia." 
 
 "But I got an eighteen-and-a-half -pound salmon," 
 cried Jack. 
 
 " He 's had him in his lap for an hour, like a baby," 
 said Dick. 
 
 " That is capable of olfactory demonstration," re- 
 marked Anne. 
 
 " He '11 get that salmon framed," cried Dick. " Such 
 a fuss — " 
 " Did you get any, sir ? " asked his father. 
 "No." 
 
 "Are you sorry Jack did ? " 
 
 " No, I am not that mean," returned the boy, flush- 
 ing. " Ned he caught it, and he let Jack bring it in. 
 Jack wanted it so very bad." 
 
 106 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 107 
 
 "Badly, sir?" 
 
 " Badly." 
 
 "And it was Ned's fish, after all." 
 
 As he spoke, Lyndsay nodded gently, smiling at the 
 youngest son, and no more was said; but the boys 
 understood well enough that neither the selfishness 
 nor the self-denial had gone unnoticed. This was 
 made more plain when Mr. Lyndsay said: 
 
 "I shall fish the upper pool to-morrow morning — 
 or, rather, you may, Ned, for I have letters to write." 
 
 "And Jack and Dick ? " said Ned, 
 
 " Those other fellows may slay trout." He disliked 
 even the approach to tale-telling by his boys, and 
 when Mrs. Lyndsay made an appeal, in her mild way, 
 he said, laughing : 
 
 " The laws of the Medes and Persians were never 
 changed. Let it rest there. My barbarians under- 
 stand me, I fancy." 
 
 There was a little silence, which Rose broke. 
 
 " What is that in the glass, Dick, on the window- 
 ledge?" 
 
 " What Pierre calls alamprey. It is the very lowest 
 of vertebrates. It has only a cartilaginous skeleton." 
 
 " Must be an awful learned beast," said Ned. 
 
 " It holds on to the side of the salmon, Rosy." 
 
 "Just like a feUow outside of an omnibus," said 
 Dick. 
 
 " What a queer thing ! " and Rose got up to look at 
 it. " I wonder if the salmon likes it. A parasite ! " 
 
 " Which proves," laughed Anne, " that even a para- 
 site is capable of attachment. The obligation is all on 
 one side." 
 
108 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE &EEEN 
 
 " Literally," said Lyndsay. 
 
 "Archie, you are worse than Mr. B.," said Anne. 
 " If you say anything clever, he begins to dissect it 
 for the benefit of all concerned. The application of 
 anatomy to humor is one of the lowest of social pur- 
 suits. I loathe that man." 
 
 " You don't really loathe any one, aunty." 
 
 "If you do not," said Margaret, "it is a pity to say 
 that sort of thing." 
 
 " But I do loathe the man — I do ; I do. I am honest. 
 He has every quality of what Dick tenderly calls a 
 G-. I. P., except the probability of ultimate usefulness." 
 
 "Reasonably complete that," said Lyndsay, while 
 Jack grinned his appreciation. 
 
 "He is a clergyman, Anne," remarked Margaret, 
 with emphasis. 
 
 "That only makes it worse. I have heard him 
 preach. Don't you think a man who has no humor 
 must be a bad man ? " 
 
 "Anne!" 
 
 "One moment, dear. Let me finish him. I was 
 going to say, Archie, that if a mule was to kick 
 that man just for fun, he would never know he 
 was kicked." 
 
 " That covers the ground. You should have edited 
 a newspaper, Anne. Such vituperative qualities are 
 wasted here." 
 
 " Indeed, I think so," said Mrs. Lyndsay, rising at 
 the end of her luncheon. " It may amuse you, Archie, 
 but for the boys it is bad, dear, bad." 
 
 Upon this the twins, enchanted to hear of wicked- 
 ness, became critically attentive to the matter, and for 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 109 
 
 a moment refrained from their diet. Anne, a little 
 vexed, smiled as her sister-in law stood opposite, but 
 made no other reply. 
 
 " I dare say it amuses you, my dear Anne." 
 
 "It does." 
 
 " But should it, dear, and at the cost of tempta- 
 tion to others? G-o out, boys." The twins went forth 
 merry. "And — and, dear, don't you think — ? " 
 
 Between question and answer Lyndsay made swift 
 retreat, with an explanatory cigar-case in his hand. 
 
 "Yes, I think, Margaret "5 and then, the gray eyes 
 lighting up, " I think, Margaret, that you do not al- 
 ways think. If you did, you would criticize that 
 wicked Archie." 
 
 "Archie ! Archie I What do you mean?" 
 
 " I admit your premise. Homicide applied to char- 
 acter is bad enough ; but don't you think that Archie 
 ought to give up kilUng salmon T " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " You see it teaches the boys to be cruel. It is the 
 sad beginning of murder. There is only a difference 
 of degree in it. Suppose, now, a man kUls a monkey, 
 and then — you follow me, dear — and then — oh, do 
 come here. Rose — and then he gets a shot somewhere 
 in Africa at the missing link. You see where killing 
 salmon lands you at last. Where shall we draw the 
 line?" 
 
 Rose laughed, despite her mother's face of puzzled 
 yet obstinate gravity. 
 
 " What do you mean, Anne ? " 
 
 Anne rarely argued seriously with this sister-in-law, 
 who, despite their differences, was very dear to her. 
 
110 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 Her delight was, like the cuttle-fish, so to obscure the 
 whole atmosphere of a discussion with mistiness of 
 vague analogy as to enable her to retreat with honor. 
 
 " Grood gracious ! " Margaret went on, fanning her- 
 self violently, as she did in all weather, and amuse- 
 ingly indicating by her use of the fan her own moods, 
 "what did I say to bring out all this nonsense? I 
 think I — yes — what was it. Rose?" 
 
 Any one's irritation, of which she herself seemed to 
 be the cause, troubled the little lady, especially if 
 Anne were the person involved. Nevertheless, no ex- 
 perience sufficed quite to keep Mrs. Lyndsay out of 
 these risks when her motherly instincts were in action. 
 
 Rose smiled, as she replied : 
 
 "Dear little mother. Aunt Anne objects to your 
 criticism of her form of sport, and the naughty aunty 
 is raising a dust of words, in which she will scuttle 
 away." As she spoke she cast a loving arm around her 
 mother, and one on her aunt's thin shoulders. But 
 Margaret Lyndsay had the persistency of all instinctive 
 beings. 
 
 " I think it bad for the boys. I always shall think 
 it bad. Dick is now too fond of ridiculing serious 
 things, and they think whatever you do is right, and 
 whatever you say they think delightful. As for 
 Ned—" 
 
 " Ned I my Ned ! That boy is an angel. I won't 
 have a word — " 
 
 "As if I did not know it ! " said Margaret, with the 
 nearest approach to wrath of which she was capable. 
 " Really, Anne Lyndsay, may I not even praise my 
 own boys ? " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 111 
 
 " I think, my dear Margaret, you lack imagina- 
 tion," said Anne. Like a great algebraist, who is apt 
 to skip in his statements a long series of equations, 
 she was given to omitting the logical steps by which 
 her swift reason passed to a conclusion satisfactorily 
 true for her, but obscure enough to her hearers. 
 
 " I don't understand," said Mrs. Lyndsay. 
 
 " Nor I," echoed Rose. 
 
 "My dears," said Anne, smiling, "the prosperity of 
 life lies largely in the true use of imagination." 
 
 " You are incorrigible, Anne. But I know I am 
 right." 
 
 " Knowledge and wisdom, far from being one, are 
 ofttimes different," quoted Anne, rising, and not over 
 well pleased. "I think I shall go and lie down." 
 
 "I think I would," said Mrs. LjTidsay, simply. 
 "You are not looking well to-day." 
 
 " I am well enough," said Miss Anne. 
 
 "All ready! — and the fish and Polycarp!" cried 
 Lyndsay. 
 
 Eose was soon in the canoe, and the men began 
 poling across the river. As they moved, she sat, re- 
 flecting upon the little scene she had witnessedo It 
 troubled her that two people so dear to her should 
 not always understand each other. The mother had 
 already ceased to think of it, and the aunt's irritabQity 
 was a matter of minutes. Only Anne Lyndsay knew 
 how sternly a remarkable intellect had by degrees 
 dictated terms of reasonable life to a quick temper 
 and a tongue too perilously skilful. This endless 
 warfare was now rarely visible, but its difficulties 
 were terribly increased at times when weakness and 
 
112 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 
 
 pain grew hard to endure and fought on the side of 
 her foes. There were, indeed, times during the weari- 
 ness of travel when Rose Lyndsay was startled by 
 what she saw; times when Anne was striving with 
 constantly increasing pain. Then it would end with 
 a laugh and a jest, and some quaint defense of pain 
 as a form of moral education, until Rose, despite her- 
 self, would be reassured, and she 
 
 Who would have given a caliph's gold 
 For consolation, was herself consoled. 
 
 These things troubled her as she crossed the stream. 
 Once ashore she ceased to think of them. Polycarp, 
 with few words, slung the salmon on his back, and, 
 leaving Ambrose to pious meditations and the canoe, 
 indicated the ox -road to Rose, who went on in front. 
 
 After twenty minutes of swift walking. Rose came 
 out of the wood-path into a clearing of some fifty 
 acres, and at last to a cabin set in an inclosure. Here 
 were a few beds of the commoner flowers and a squared- 
 log house. The windows were open, the clean white 
 muslin curtains pulled back, and on the ledges tomato- 
 cans and a broken jug or two filled with that flower 
 which grows best for the poorj the red geranium. On 
 the south end of the cabin a Japanese ivy, given by 
 Mrs. Lyndsay, had made a fair fight with the rigor of 
 a Canadian winter and was part way up to the gable. 
 Noticing the absence of dirt and of the litter of chips, 
 rags, egg-shells, and bits of paper, so common where 
 labor has all it can do to attend to the essential, Rose 
 tapped on the open door, and then, turning, saw Mrs. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 113 
 
 Maybrook standing at the well. She came forward at 
 once to meet her visitor. 
 
 " Why, I guess you must be Margaret Lyndsay's 
 daughter." 
 
 Rose, a little taken aback by the familiar manner of 
 this identification, perhaps showed it to this shrewd 
 observer in something about her bearing as she said, 
 "A pleasant evening after the rain," and took the 
 proffered hand. " Yes, I am Rose Lyndsay." 
 
 " I 'm never quite rid of my Quaker fashion of nam- 
 ing folks without their handles. Seems to get you 
 nearer to people. Now, don't you think so ? Come in." 
 
 Rose, as her host stepped aside, entered the cabin. It 
 was bedroom, kitchen, and sitting-room all in one, like 
 most of these rude homes, but it was absolutely clean, 
 and just now, as the cooking was done out of doors, 
 was cool and airy. Mrs. Maybrook was in a much- 
 mended gown, and bore signs enough of contact with 
 pots and pans. Still the great coils of hair were fairly 
 neat, and the gray eyes shone clear and smiling. She 
 made none of the apologies for her house or its fur- 
 niture such as the poor are apt to make, nor yet for 
 herself or her dress. 
 
 "Come in and sit down. I 'm that glad to see 
 you. Oh, Polycarp, is that you? And your father 
 has sent me a salmon? My old man will like that. 
 Put it in the brook, Polycarp." 
 
 " But it is my fish," said Rose. " I killed it and I 
 wanted you to have it ; my father had nothing to do 
 with it. I am glad of a chance to thank you, Mrs. 
 Maybrook, for — for all you were to my mother — 
 aU you did last summer when our dear Harry died." 
 
114 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 And this fine young woman, in her taQor-made 
 London walking-gown, thereupon having got to the 
 end of words, and having had this thing in mind for 
 ten minutes, fell an easy victim to nature, so that her 
 eyes filled as she spoke. When this came about, Dor- 
 othy became as easy a prey to the despotism of sym- 
 pathetic emotion, and her tears, too, fell Hke ripe 
 apples on a windy November day. Also, upon this, 
 these two "fools of nature" looked at each other 
 and smiled through their tears, which is a mysteriously 
 explanatory and apologetic habit among rightly made 
 women. After this they were in a way friends. The 
 elder woman took the hand of the younger and said : 
 
 " When my last boy died, there was a woman I just 
 hated, and she came and she cried. It makes a heap 
 of matter who cries, — don't it, now ? " 
 
 " Oh, it does — it does," said Rose, with still a little 
 sob in her voice. 
 
 " I did n't want that woman to cry. But you don't 
 mind my crying, now, do you ? That was the sweetest 
 little feUow." 
 
 " Please don't," said Rose. 
 
 " No, no ; I won't, I know. Is n't it awful lucky 
 men can't cry ? That 's just the only way we can get 
 even with 'em How 's mother? And Miss Anne? 
 Now, that is a woman. Never saw a woman like her 
 in all my born life. Ain't she got a way of saying 
 things? Oh, here 's Hiram. Hiram, this is Miss 
 Rose Lyndsay. I reckon " — Mrs. Maybrook reckoned, 
 calculated, or guessed with the entire indifiference of 
 a woman who had lived south, north, and east — 
 "I reckon they knew what they was about when they 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 115 
 
 called you Rose. 'T ain't easy naming children. They 
 ain't all like flowers, that just grow up, according to 
 their kind. If you 'd have been called Becky, there 
 would n't have been no kind of reason in it." 
 
 " I trust not," laughed Rose. 
 
 " How do you do, miss ? " said Hiram. He was tall, 
 a little bent, clad in sober gray, and had a shock of 
 stiff, grizzly hair and a full gray beard. His eyes, 
 which were pale blue and meaningless, wandered as he 
 stood. 
 
 " Miss Rose has fetched a fish," said Dorothy. " You 
 might clean it, Hiram." 
 
 " I '11 do it," he said, stolidly, and turned to go like 
 a dull boy sent on an errand. 
 
 "And don't forget to fetch the cows in at sun- 
 down." 
 
 " I '11 do it," and he went out. 
 
 " He 's a bit touched in his head," said his wife. 
 " You see, when we were at Marysville the war kind 
 o' upset him. They wanted him to go into the rebel 
 army, and he was n't minded to do it. I got him a 
 place on a railroad, so he did n't have to ; but he was 
 awful worried, and took to thinking about it, and his 
 brothers that were in our army, — on the other side, — 
 and then he got off his head. He ain't been the same 
 man since, — and twice he ran away. But I fetched 
 him both times, and then the fevers took the children. 
 He ain't been the same man since. I 've got to p'int 
 him a good bit, — that 's what he calls it ; but if he 's 
 p'inted right, he goes sure. To my thinking, it is a 
 queer world. Miss Rose. I wish I was certain there 
 is a better." 
 
116 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 " But there is," said Rose. 
 
 "Well, well. Maybe. Anyhow, I never felt no 
 call to doubt what I was to do in this one. Old 
 Kitchins used to pray over me. He was an awful 
 certain man about other folks' sins; never missed 
 fire. At last, one day, when he was a-consoling me, 
 and thinking he 'd just only got to be a kind of cen- 
 turion for a woman's troubles, and say go and they 'd 
 go, I asked him if he 'd any knowledge of the gospel 
 of grinning, — and that ended him. Come out and 
 see my flowers." 
 
 Rose got up, laughing. " I want you to walk to 
 Colkett's with me. I told the men to go up the river, 
 so as to bring us back. You see, I made sure you 
 would go." 
 
 " Go ! — of course I '11 go," said Dorothy. " No, I 
 won't want a bonnet. I 've got one somewhere, under 
 the bed, I guess," and, so saying, they set off. It re- 
 quired little skiU to draw from this frank and fearless 
 nature, as they walked, the history of a wandering 
 life, of the children dead, of the half-witted husband, 
 of her own long-continued asthma, now gone, as she 
 hoped. It was told with curious vivacity, — with some 
 sense of the humorous quality of complete disaster, 
 and when she spoke of her dead it was with brief 
 gravity, which seemed to deny sympathy or hasten 
 away from it. As they moved along and her com- 
 panion talked, Rose glanced with curiosity at the 
 Quaker-born woman, who had lost nearly every trace 
 of her origin. She walked well, and there was a cer- 
 tain distinctiveness, if not distinction, in her erect car 
 
WHEN ALIi THE WOODS ARE GREEN 117 
 
 riage and refinement of feature, still visible after years 
 of toil and troubles. 
 
 At last, after a pause, Rose spoke for herself. 
 
 "It seems to me wonderful that you, who have 
 gone through so much, could have stood it as you 
 seem to have done." She herself was at the opening 
 age of doubts and questions. At times the discon- 
 tentment of a life without the definite aims of a man's 
 career distressed her. Yet she had surely all that one 
 could ask of existence; and here was this poverty- 
 haunted woman supremely cheerful under circum- 
 stances such as would have ruined all capacity for 
 happiness in most of her sex. Rose went on, half 
 surprised at her own frankness: 
 
 "I have everything in the world, and sometimes I 
 am not happy. I ought to be ashamed." 
 
 " Well, Miss Rose, I did use to bother, but I gave it 
 up. As long as you 're here, you 're here. I 'm like 
 a pig Hiram used to have out West. He was a very 
 enterprising pig, and was always a-trying to get into 
 the pea-patch and out of his own field. One day I 
 was watching that pig, — I used to think that pig could 
 laugh, — well, he spied an angle of a great big, dead 
 cottonwood-tree Hiram had set to stop the gap in a 
 fence. You see, the two ends of it were in the field, 
 and it was hollow right through trunk and limb, and 
 the point of it stuck out into my pea-patch. So, Mr. 
 Pig, in he goes, and after much scratching he got 
 through the trunk, and then through the big branch, 
 and then out he came, and there he was in the same 
 field again. Well, he tried it three times and then he 
 
118 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 gave it up ; looked like he 'd have liked to scratch his 
 head ; and after that he was the contentedest pig you 
 ever saw. And when sticking-time came, at Christmas, 
 he did n't squeal any morsel louder than the rest. I 
 guess I 'm a good deal like that pig. I 've quit trying 
 to get out of my field, and so I just stay here and grin, 
 and take what comes." 
 
 " Thank you," said Rose, smiling. " That is a de- 
 lightful parable, Mrs. Maybrook." And with it Rose 
 ceased awhile to hear what her companion said, and 
 took stern measures with herself, because of the 
 thoughts this woman's life and words had brought 
 to her. 
 
 Dorothy was at times, when her audience suited 
 her, a person who talked herself out in liberal amount, 
 finding in self -utterance one of her few and most dis- 
 tinct pleasures. Yet she was never so full of herself 
 as entirely to cease to think of others. She saw in a 
 few minutes that Rose had lost hold of the talk, and 
 was at intervals saying, " Yes, yes," in an absent way, 
 so as to keep up a decent appearance of being still in- 
 terested in her companion's words. Dorothy had by 
 no means fine manners, but she had the automatically 
 active instincts of a woman to whom tact was a natural 
 gift. She too became silent, and they walked on for a 
 time without more exchange of words. 
 
 Rose, like some young women of her age, was at 
 times the easy prey of moods of absence, which 
 carried her far enough from the hour or its com- 
 pany. She had preached herself a severe sermon, 
 and now came back to the outer world again as they 
 passed a marshy spot where, of a sudden, the whole- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GBEEN 119 
 
 some wood odors rose around her, that delightful 
 commingling of the scent of moldering trunks, res- 
 inous weepings of the pine, and the sweetness of 
 the breath of the young spruces. Nature said, in 
 her most tender tones, "Come back to me out of 
 your tangle of self-discussion, and I will give you 
 rest." It was a delicately responsive organization to 
 which this mute appeal was made, and the fine instru- 
 ment answered to the call with no more conscious- 
 ness of the gentle influence than has the swaying 
 pine stirred to healthful exercise by the northland 
 breeze. 
 
 "Don't you like the wood-smells?" she said. 
 
 "Me? I guess I do. That 's queer about Susan 
 Colkett ; asked her one day if she did n't love the 
 spruce-smells, and she just said they had n't none." 
 
 " That was odd. I could never like that woman, 
 but I am very, very sorry for her." 
 
 "Like her! Miss Rose, I saw her once MUing 
 chickens, — I never can do that, — and the woman was 
 laughing all the while. I don't love her, but — 
 There 's the house; you wait here in the woods; 
 I 'U get her out, and then you can talk. Sit down on 
 this log. I 'U fetch her." 
 
 " But are you not afraid, Mrs. Maybrook ? " 
 
 "I? No; I 'm old and tough, and it would n't 
 matter much — except for Hiram. There 'd be no- 
 body to p'int him," and she laughed. 
 
 Then Rose took up her sermon again, and Dorothy 
 walked to the back of the crumbling cabin, through 
 the vileness of the cow-shed, which was connected 
 with the house to save wintry exposures in caring for 
 
120 WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 the cattle, now reduced in number to one lank, milk- 
 less cow. 
 
 Two decrepit chickens fled as she came by, and a 
 long-legged, high-roofed pig lifted his snout above 
 his empty trough and grunted a famine-born ap- 
 peal. Her feet were noiseless in the slough of muck 
 through which she picked her way with a grimace of 
 disgust. At the open back door she paused, hear- 
 ing high voices within. About to enter, she halted 
 abruptly, and a look of intense attention came upon 
 her face. The speakers were hidden, but in the dim- 
 ness at the far end of the room, she saw the half 
 of the bed, — one broken leg of it tied up to a splint 
 of wood, — and above, the white sheet upon the 
 figure of the dead child. She stayed motionless a 
 moment, at first merely shocked at the rude noises 
 in the chamber of death, but, when about to knock, 
 stopped short again at the hearing of her own name. 
 
 "Dory Maybrook 's a fool; don't tell me about 
 her!" 
 
 " Well, I won't. Ain't I goin' to have no more of 
 that money?" It was Joe Colkett who spoke. 
 
 " You took five dollars last night," said the woman. 
 Her voice, strident and high-pitched, sent a shiver of 
 discomfort through Dorothy. "Did n't think no 
 man would be mean enough to steal from under a 
 dead child's pUlow ! " 
 
 "I might ov took it all, — I 'm that miserable. 
 Don't go to say I 'm drunk. I 'm not. What did 
 you do with the rest of it, anyway?" 
 
 "I got Bill Churchman's wife to buy me a white 
 gown down the river, to put on my child, and a white 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 121 
 
 sheet, and then there 's the money to fetch the 
 preacher. I could n't get no sheet until I paid your 
 reckonin' for whisky. There ain't much left." 
 
 " I 'm dreadful sorry," said the man. 
 
 "Oh, don't go a-whinin' round me! Just let me 
 alone! I was a fool to have took a man like you, 
 that ain't got no sense and no work in him!" 
 
 "I would n't ov sayed that, Susie." 
 
 " No 1 Well, I say it. What did that lawyer man 
 tell you about the mortgage? When has we got to 
 go?" 
 
 "Oh, he says we may bide till next winter; but 
 he 's to have the cow and the pig." 
 
 " And you said you 'd give 'em up ? " 
 
 "Yes. What could I ov done? Susie, don't you 
 set there a-cryin'. I can git a lumber job, and we '11 
 look about, and Mr. Lyndsay he 'U give us a bit of 
 money." 
 
 "No, he won't. Dory Maybrook she '11 tell him 
 Mr. Carington gave you some money, and Dory she 'U 
 teU him, too, it 's no use helpin' a drunken brute." 
 
 "I said I would n't drink no more, and I won't. 
 You might believe me, Susie. Ain't I alius loved 
 you, and slaved for you and them dead children, and 
 not mine neither? I 'm not a bad man, if I do take 
 a drop now and again." 
 
 " If you was a worse man, I 'd ov liked you better. 
 A great strong man like you, and all these rich 
 folks round here," 
 
 " What ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 Dorothy started. She would have liked to see 
 those two faces. 
 
122 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 " If you was to care for me a little, Susie, I 'd do 
 most anything you wanted." 
 
 "Ain't that Carington comin' up in September, 
 and did n't he ask you to go into the woods after 
 caribou with him ? There ain't no better hunter than 
 you in these parts." As she spoke, her voice became 
 low and softer, so that the listener scarcely heard it. 
 " Them city folks carries a lot of money about with 
 'em, and watches and things. We 've got to get 
 away, and we 've got to live, Joe Colkett, — to live, I 
 say ! " 
 
 " Do you want me to steal the man's money ? " 
 
 " Oh, stealin' gits found out. Ain't we been robbed ? 
 Who stole our house and all my man's earnin's ? " 
 
 " What is it you want, Susie 1 " He spoke timidly. 
 
 "I want a man as is a man, and ain't afeard, — 
 you ain't him ! " 
 
 " Did n't I say I 'd do 'most anything for you ? " 
 
 "'Most anything!" 
 
 "Well, anything." Then there was a moment of 
 utter silence. " You would n't go to want me to do 
 nothin' wrong." 
 
 " Well, you are a fool ! Ain't folks lost in them 
 woods sometimes, and never found ? " 
 
 " I can't do it," said the man, hoarsely. " I said I 
 could n't, and I can't. I — I can't," and he was heard 
 moving to and fro in the agitated indecision of a 
 great temptation. Dorothy began to fear that she 
 would come into view. 
 
 " I can't," he repeated. 
 
 "But he will," murmured Dorothy, falling back 
 noiselessly. Then, stepping through a break in the 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 123 
 
 rotten boards of the shed, she bent low among the 
 alders and fled. When away in the woods, she walked 
 until she came again to Rose. "They 're in," she 
 said. " Mind, we 've just come. Don't let on I left 
 you — hush — not now. There 's a reason, I can't 
 explain now. Come." 
 
 Rose, rather bewildered, followed her. A few paces 
 from the closed door she stood stiU, while Dorothy, 
 going on, called gently, "Susie Colkett," and knocked 
 as she spoke. 
 
 " Oh, it 's you ! " said the mistress of the house, as 
 she came forward to the doorway. 
 
 " Yes ; Miss Lyndsay came up with me. Dear me ! 
 I 'm that tired ! " 
 
 Mrs. Colkett, from her grim height of leanness, 
 looked shai-ply at the speaker. " That ain't common 
 with you." Then she came out and went up to Rose. 
 " Won't you come in ? " she said. " It ain't much of a 
 house, but poor folks has got to put up with what 
 they can git." The stooping carriage, the high, red 
 cheek-bones, and the large, yellow teeth struck the 
 young woman unpleasantly. That the mother said 
 nothing of the dead child within seemed strange. 
 
 "I — I could n't now, — not now," said Rose, gently. 
 "I wanted to say we were all so— so very sorry for 
 you. It 's only just a year last week that my own little 
 brother died, you know." 
 
 "And, Susie, it was the same thing, oh, just the 
 same," said Dorothy, softly. 
 
 " My father would like to know if there is anything 
 you want ; anj^hing — really anything we can do ? " 
 
 " No," she said. At one moment she was filled with 
 
124 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE &KEEN 
 
 eager greed to get all that was to be had out of these 
 fine people ; at the next she was shaten by a storm of 
 anger at the contrast between these deaths. She had 
 a crude remembrance of the decencies and order of the 
 funeral of Harry Lyndsay, and then of Joe coming in 
 with the rough cofl&n, of the place back in the woods 
 where her two children lay in unmarked graves. On 
 such recollections the mere brutalness of love of her 
 offspring dwelt with savagery of comment. She had 
 seen the small stone which had been set over the little 
 Lyndsay, in the late spring, just before the family had 
 come upon the river. These things had been in her 
 mind for days, and now it was hard to conceal her 
 feelings She would have liked to take an ax and 
 break the modest memorial of their dead. She said, 
 merely, " No, no ! " to Rose, and then, shortly, " Joe 
 and me are much obliged, miss." 
 
 "You wiU let us know if we can help you?" Her 
 visible emotion Rose, very naturally, misinterpreted. 
 Dorothy stood by, grave, silent, and watchful. 
 
 " Where 's your man ? " she said, as Rose bade good- 
 by and turned away. Joe, stunned, half afraid of his 
 masterful temptress, had remained in the cabin. " Oh, 
 Susie," added Dorothy, in lower tones, "I hope he 
 has n't been drinking again?" 
 
 " What 's that your business ? " returned the other 
 woman. " Guess I can take care of my man," 
 
 " I am not so sure of that ; but I did n't mean to 
 offend you." 
 
 " Then you had n't ought to have meddled." 
 
 " All right," said Dorothy ; " good-by " ; and, turn- 
 ing, she left Mrs. Colkett and rejoined Rose. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 125 
 
 " What a woman ! " she said, and then for a time 
 neither spoke. 
 
 When they were well on their way to the shore, 
 Eose said : " I am troubled, Mrs. Maybrook, that I so 
 dislike any one as unfortunate as that woman. But I 
 don't Hke her. I never, never want to go there again, 
 and I am sorry for her, too. Oh, I am as sorry as I 
 can be ; but — " 
 
 Dorothy simply said, " I do not wonder." And then, 
 with a laugh, " The fact is. Miss Rose, that Colkett 
 woman 's bad; and, for my part, I 'm a right lop- 
 sided Christian. I can't put on mourning for rattle- 
 snakes just the same as for doves. It 's a kind of 
 comfort to find you are n't much better than I am." 
 
 "I,— indeed not!" 
 
 Meanwhile Dorothy was debating in her mind how 
 much she should teU her companion. A side glance 
 at the fresh young maiden face decided her. " I said 
 along back I would explain what kept me so long. I 
 cannot. They were talking about me. It was n't very 
 pleasant. I overheard something disagreeable. I 
 reckon I 'U come over and see about it with Mr. Lynd- 
 say. Do you chance to know Mr. Carington that fishes 
 up to Island Camp ? " 
 
 " No." Eose felt that whatever was withheld con- 
 cerned — must concern — this gentleman. " But I am 
 immensely curious," she said. 
 
 "Are you ? " cried Dorothy, laughing. " I am going 
 to keep my mouth shut for twenty-four hours, and 
 that 's real, rity-dity penance, I can tell you ! Did you 
 never see Mr, Carington 1 Why, he 's right up river, 
 just two or three miles." 
 
126 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AHE GEEEN 
 
 " No, — or yes, with my glass a moment, ever so far 
 away. What is he like ? " 
 
 " Oh, there 's two." 
 
 "Not twins?" 
 
 " No. There 's a Mr. EUett. He 's a man walks 
 about and — well, he walks about." 
 
 Kose laughed. She felt the description to be some- 
 what indistinct, and said so. 
 
 " Kind of man says ' Oh ! ' when you talk to him. 
 Awful neat man, — wears glasses ? " 
 
 "And the other?" 
 
 "He 's a weU-set-up man. Stands up strong on 
 his hind legs." 
 
 "His what?" 
 
 " His hind legs. He 's pretty smart with a boat, 
 and a gun, too. He 's got a way of putting his head 
 back, and sort of looking you over, as if he was tak- 
 ing stock of you. It 's not as if he was stuck up or 
 saucy. It 's just a way your father has, too. Miss 
 Rose." 
 
 " Indeed ! " Miss Lyndsay was not quite sure she 
 desired any one to resemble her father. "Here we 
 are at the landing." 
 
 " You won't mind if I ask you, Miss Rose, not to 
 say — there was — anything — anything wrong?" 
 
 " No, of course not, if you wish it ; but I do want 
 to know," and then they went away homeward, down 
 the highway of the waters. In fact, as to this matter 
 of which she was not to speak. Rose was vastly curi- 
 ous, and lay long awake that night, smiling at times 
 over the description of the dwellers at the Island 
 Camp. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 127 
 
 Dorothy slipped away up the ox-road, from the 
 river-bank opposite the Cliff Camp, and went with 
 slow and unusually thoughtful steps through the 
 wood. At the gate of their clearing she found 
 Hiram, as usual, waiting for her like a patient dog 
 for the master. 
 
 " You 've been a long time," he said. 
 
 "Yes, — I could not help it. Are the cows milked?" 
 
 " No. I kind of forgot." 
 
 "Better go and mUk them now," she said; "and 
 don't forget to feed the hogs, and put the bars up, — 
 one, two, three things," and she smiled ; " mind, three 
 things." 
 
 " Oh, now I 'm p'inted right. I '11 go. The bars, 
 you said ? " 
 
 "Yes, the bars." And he went away, saying, 
 " One, two, three, one, two, three. I might forget 
 them bars ! " And meanwhile the wife moved home- 
 ward, still deep in thought. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 T breakfast next day, Rose came in 
 late. 
 
 " What, overslept yourself ? " said 
 her father, as she went the round of 
 the table with her morning kisses. 
 " Yes ; I could n't get to sleep." 
 "And what kept you awake ? " said Miss Anne, who 
 stiU, to the surprise of all, appeared almost daily at the 
 morning meal. " A penny for your thoughts." 
 
 "I was guessing a riddle; but I took it into my 
 sleep unanswered." 
 
 "A good many riddles have been answered in sleep," 
 said Miss Anne. " Was yours ? " 
 
 " No. Oh, no. Master Ned ; I shaU not teU it." 
 " That 's the hardest riddle ever was," cried the 
 boy. " I have to guess what the riddle is, and then 
 what the answer is." 
 
 " Ton will never, never know." 
 "May we ask twenty questions about it?" said 
 Dick. "Animal, vegetable, or mineral?" 
 
 " I should be puzzled. To what kingdom do morals 
 belong?" 
 
 "Why, who ever heard of mineral or vegetable 
 morals?" 
 
 "The last might admit of illustration," said Miss 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE 6BBBN 129 
 
 Anne ; and she began to consider witHn herself the 
 people she knew who had what she called vegetable 
 morals. 
 
 " Is there a man in your riddle ? " cried Jack. 
 
 " A Boss-town man," said Dick, with a grin. 
 
 " Pinch him, Jack," said Rose. 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Dick, responsive to the promptly ap- 
 plied punishment, and making a wry face. "You 
 would be awfully good at a Jersey courtship. Rose, 
 especially if yon got Jack to help," 
 
 "A good friend at a pinch," said Jack. And so 
 these foolish people rattled on, and by and by Mrs. 
 Lyndsay said: 
 
 "Rose, you have not told us anything about Mrs. 
 Maybrook and those poor Colketts. I did not ask 
 you last night, you were so sleepy." 
 
 " Don't ask me now," said Rose. " I never saw such 
 a horrible creature as that woman." 
 
 " But her child is dead ! " said Mrs. Lyndsay, with 
 gentle inconsequence. 
 
 " I think her altogether hateful," insisted Rose. 
 
 "Altogether hateful ? " cried Anne. " I like these 
 complete natures. It must simplify things in life so 
 satisfactorily. Amiability would become so useless an 
 effort. To be altogether and hopelessly aside from the 
 possibilities of affection or respect might save a deal of 
 moral exertion." 
 
 "I don't think I understand," said Mrs. Lyndsay; 
 " or, if I do, I am very sure that it is n't a nice thing 
 to say. "Would n't it be as simple and better to be 
 altogether lovable?" 
 
 " No, no," cried Anne ; " you have tried that, and 
 
130 WHEN ALIi THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 does it really pay, dear?" Margaret was a trifle 
 nacertain as to tlie compliment, and Anne, much de- 
 lighted at her game of what she caUed mental cat's- 
 cradle, was about to go on, when Pierre came in. 
 
 "Ah, here is the mail," said Lyndsay, and emptied 
 out the bag on a side-table. 
 
 "I have been yearning for a newspaper," said 
 Anne. 
 
 " Not I," cried her brother, as he walked around the 
 table distributing the letters. "Ah," he said, " my 
 friend North. He was to have joined us with his wife 
 next week, Anne ; but Claybome is dead. You will 
 all be sorry to hear that. North says — it is, as usual, 
 interesting. Shall I read it? " 
 
 " Oh, certainly, Archie, — all of it. I am very sorry. 
 It will be a great loss to Dr. North." 
 
 "And to our too small world of letters," added 
 Lyndsay. 
 
 "He says, ' We — that is, Vincent and I — had spent 
 two hours with our old friend in that great book-clad 
 room we all know. We came away talking of his 
 vast knowledge of medieval men and things. I had 
 chanced to say I wondered how a gentleman in the 
 fifteenth century spent a day, and he had at once told 
 it all in curious detail — as to hours, dress, diet, and 
 occupations. I left Vincent and went back for a book 
 I had meant to borrow. When I entered, Clayborne 
 was seated as usual with a little book in his hand. 
 As he did not stir, I went up to him. The book was 
 kept open by his palm. I stooped over him and saw 
 that the book was Fulke GreviUe's on Democracy. 
 He was dead. He had noiselessly gone out, without 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 131 
 
 stir of a finger. He must have been receiving ideas, 
 dealing with them, and then — ' See, Margaret, this 
 is his symbol of death. 'I suppose, dear Lyndsay, 
 you will think it strange that I sat still a half -hour 
 beside my dead friend. I never felt the other world 
 so close; it seemed within touch. At last — as the 
 great frame began to stififen — the book fell. I took 
 it, marked the place, and put it in my pocket.' 
 
 " The rest," said Lyndsay, " is of less interest." 
 
 "A happy exit," said Anne. 
 
 " I cannot think that," returned Margaret. " I should 
 want to know that I was dying." 
 
 *' One rarely does," said her husband. " You get 
 muddled, and say and do foolish and ill-bred things. 
 I sympathize with a friend of mine who gave orders 
 that he was to be left to die alone." 
 
 " How horrible ! How unnatural ! " 
 
 "No, no," cried Anne; "it is you who are 'un-na- 
 tured.' But imagine dying with such a dull book in 
 hand! I was wondering what book I should want 
 to have last seen on earth." 
 
 " I can think of but one, Anne." 
 
 " Oh, that is not one book. Why call it a book ? It 
 is the books of many men. Besides, — and this is ter- 
 rible, Margaret, — I should like it to have been some 
 very earthsome book, — I had to coin an adjective, — 
 and I should like it to be like Ned's friend — several." 
 
 Margaret was critically silent. All this was in a 
 way unpleasant to her, as the unusual is always to 
 some people. 
 
 " I do not think," said Lyndsay, " I know with what 
 thoughts I should like to go hand in hand out of life. 
 
132 WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 He was a fine, irritable old fellow. The critics won't 
 bother him now." 
 
 " Who can tell ? There may be archangelic critics, 
 for all we know," returned Anne. " However, perhaps 
 one won't mind it. Ton know what Hafiz says: 
 ' Happy are the dead, for they shall inherit the king- 
 dom of indifference.' " 
 
 "Anne ! Anne ! " exclaimed Mrs. Lyndsay. 
 
 " Between papa's Aurelius and Aunt Anne's Persian 
 poets," said Rose, in haste to intervene, " the fairy-land 
 of bewilderment is never far away." 
 
 " I have the wicked worldliness, brother, to want to 
 know how Mr. Claybome left his money. Was n't he 
 rich?" 
 
 " Yes. Wait a moment. He divided it. North says, 
 between him — that is North, dear ; I am glad of that; 
 it wUl be in wise hands — and, really, that queer crea- 
 ture, St. Clair ; but he was clever enough to put his 
 share in trust." 
 
 " I am very glad. That too delightful man ! " ex- 
 claimed Rose. " Do you remember, Aunt Anne, the 
 morning we spent with him at the Louvre ? It was 
 like walking about with some Greek sculptor. He 
 seemed to be away in Athens while he talked." 
 
 "It was certainly interesting," said her aunt. "A 
 trifle naturalistic at times, I thought." 
 
 "Was he? I don't know. We used to wonder, 
 mama, if he ever really cared for Alice Leigh. After 
 that morning I made up my mind he never did. He 
 spent ten minutes comparing her head and neck to 
 that of the Diana." 
 
 " What a feminine test ! " said Lyndsay. " If a man 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 133 
 
 were to tell you that you looked like the Venus of 
 Melos, Kose, would you say, ' No, sir ; you can't care 
 for me. It is impossible. I shall always,' etc., etc. 
 — the usual formula?" 
 
 " You are too bad, Pardy ! My convictions are un- 
 shaken. Mr. St. Clair told me; he did not tell her. 
 If he had told her, I know he would have said it in 
 that soft, convinced way. She would have liked it." 
 
 " I see," said Lyndsay ; " it becomes clearer." 
 
 " "Why do men sneer at him ? I think him — well, 
 I think him indescribably attractive. The word ' fas- 
 cinating' would answer. And I am sorry for poor 
 Mrs. North; oh, I am! Fascinating — yes, that is 
 what I should call him, and oddly unconventional." 
 
 " I think you young folks are too apt to use that 
 word 'fascinating,'" said her mother. "I have no 
 liking for these men who can fascinate, and can't 
 hold fast to the affections of any one." 
 
 At this Anne burst into inextinguishable laughter, 
 and, with-one hand pressed on the aching side which 
 was so apt to check her wilder mirth, she held out 
 the other to the astonished Mrs. Lyndsay, exclaiming: 
 
 " A forfeit — a pun from Margaret. Five cents — 
 ten cents ; a forfeit ! " 
 
 " And what did I say ? " 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Rose. — " the dear mama ! She said — 
 she said a man who could fascinate and not hold on 
 to one. Oh, mama, how could you ? " 
 
 " But I did n't. I never meant such a thing." 
 
 "Yes! yes!" they cried; and, laughing, got up 
 from table amidst continued protests from the inno- 
 cent punster. 
 
134 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 Rose followed her fatter on to the porch. 
 
 " Mrs. Maybrook will be over at ten. She wants to 
 see you. I told her you would not fish to-day." 
 
 " "What is it she wants ? " 
 
 " I do not know. Something serious, I fancy." 
 
 " No new trouble for her, I hope. By the way, old 
 Polycarp's bowman is sick to-day and cannot go with 
 you. Anne, for a wonder, wishes to go on the water. 
 Ned shaU. take Pierre. Not to disappoint you, I sent 
 Polycarp early up to the clearings to get a bowman. 
 He will be back shortly. G-ood luck to you ! " And 
 he went in to his letters, while Rose arranged her 
 fishing-basket, put in it a couple of books, and sat 
 down to look over the bright assortment of feathered 
 lures in her father's fly-book. Now and then she 
 glanced up the river, but no boat appeared. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. Maybrook came, and went. Rose 
 heard her father say to her, as she went out : 
 
 "No; it must not be left in doubt." He was of 
 opinion that it might mean little ; but it might, on the 
 other hand, mean much. Many are tempted, and few 
 faJl. The idea of crime on this quiet river seemed 
 almost absurd to him. He added, "I shall mention 
 it, you may feel sure of that, Mrs. Maybrook. A Lady 
 Macbeth in business up here is queer enough." 
 
 " I certainly do think he ought to be told," said Dor- 
 othy. 
 
 These bits of talk much puzzled Rose. As to Dor- 
 othy, she lingered a while to chat with Anne, who sat 
 with her hands in her lap in that entire idleness which 
 more than any other thing on earth exasperated Mar- 
 garet Lyndsay. Below, on the beach, Ned was prepar- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 135 
 
 ing, a little troubled because the other boys were not 
 to go with him, while they, quite reconciled to the de- 
 cree of parental fate, were gaily launching their canoe, 
 and singing, as they poled up-stream : 
 
 "I would not gi'e my bonny Eose, 
 My bonny Rose-a-Lyndsaye, 
 For all the wealth the ocean knows. 
 Or the wale of the lands of Lyndsaye.'' 
 
 Then Rose waved her handkerchief, and, much dis- 
 appointed, again took her field-glass and still saw no 
 canoe. At last Mrs. Lyndsay came out, and they sat 
 in the pleasant sunshine, the mother sewing with even 
 constancy, which as seriously annoyed Anne as her 
 own absence of all manual employ did the little 
 mother. 
 
 Very soon Anne became engaged in her usual 
 amusement of recklessly tangling some one in the 
 toils of statements, arguments, and opinions in which 
 she herself had no serious belief ; since, I should add, 
 this bright, humorous, and strangely learned creature 
 was, under all, a woman of strong views and deliber- 
 ately won religious beliefs. 
 
 When Rose, distracted from her regrets at the loss 
 of the forenoon fishing, began to hear the talk, Anne 
 had just said : 
 
 "I don't see how the world could go on at all with- 
 out fibs." 
 
 Upon which Mrs. Lyndsay, despite years of acquain- 
 tance with her sister-in-law, pricked her finger and 
 dropped her thimble, and took to her fan. 
 
 "You see, there is no commandment against it, 
 Margaret." 
 
136 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 
 
 " But, Anne, ' Thou shalt not bear false witness,' " 
 said Mrs. Lyndsay. 
 
 " But suppose I tell a harmless fib about myself, or 
 praise some one I should like to — to slap ? " 
 
 "It 's aU false witness, I reckon," said Dorothy. 
 " If I ain't my own neighbor, I 'd like to know who 
 is?" 
 
 Anne smiled. That this fly was not easily meshed 
 in her sophistical web only excited the spider. 
 
 "It would be a horrid addition to one's responsi- 
 bilities to be one's own neighbor. I should move 
 away. After all, Margaret, is n't the chief use of 
 habitual truthfulness to enable one at need to lie 
 with useful probability of being believed ? " 
 
 By this time Mrs. Lyndsay was nearly past the pos- 
 sibility of remonstrance. She let faU the work she 
 had resumed, and, rocking steadily, began to fan 
 herself with deliberate slowness. A little she sus- 
 pected this baited snare ; but not to seize it was be- 
 yond her power of seK-control. 
 
 "I am thankful my boys are not here. You will 
 say it is a jest. Whether it is a jest or not, it is 
 equally the kind of thing which should not be said — 
 ever," and here she shut the fan with decision, as if 
 that also closed the argument. 
 
 " I was thinking I 'm rather on Miss Anne's side," 
 said Dorothy. " There 's a heap of righteousness in 
 some lies. Now, if I had n't been a dreadful truth- 
 speaking woman a good many years, my Hiram 
 would n't believe me now ; and the fact is I just stuff 
 that man full of lies nowadays. I just chuck them 
 ground like you feed chickens, I teU him he looks 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 137 
 
 better every day, and how he is getting stronger 
 Miss Anne, I should n't wonder a bit if the Lord 
 loved a right cheerful liar." 
 
 " Good gracious I " said Margaret Lyndsay. " Doro- 
 thy, how can a good woman like you say such 
 things?" 
 
 " I can. And he 's a-failing before my very eyes," 
 she added, upon which she became silent. A tear or 
 two dropped down her cheeks. " Now, would n't you 
 lie, Mrs. Lyndsay, if you was me ? " 
 
 Anne looked up with interest as to what the an- 
 swer might be. 
 
 " I might ; I would," said Margaret. " I am afraid 
 I should." Then she put a sympathetic hand on her 
 friend's knee, while Anne looked grave, and Rose 
 watched Dorothy, with instant pity in her heart. 
 
 But this was not Dorothy's common way. 
 
 " My lands ! I 've been making a fool of myself ! " 
 She had the aversion of the strong to the alms of 
 sympathy. As she spoke she rose. " Come over and 
 see me when you feel right good. Miss Anne. I do 
 love a talk — and my roses ! I 've got a lot of them 
 to blooming this year, and if that is n't enough to 
 make a woman happy, what is?" 
 
 With this she said good-by and went down to the 
 beach. Anne watched with envy, in which was no 
 unkindliness, the vigor with which the dugout shot 
 forth from the shore. " A fine nature, that. It does 
 one good to talk to her. Example is a strange medi- 
 cine. It is hard to analyze its value. Because she 
 endures with patience, I may. Yes; my helps are 
 larger." 
 
138 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 As Mrs. Maybrook walked up to her house she 
 thought over, as was the habit of her lonely Hf e, the 
 talk she had had with Mr. Lyndsay and its occasion. 
 In her younger days of wandering, Hiram and she 
 had lived long amidst rough people in the West, 
 among miners and loose ruffians of all degrees of 
 wickedness. Thus the idea of crime was not so un- 
 familiar as to strike her as it did Lyndsay. She had 
 seen men shot, and had been where murder and 
 plunder were common. She had overheard a half- 
 evolved scheme of villainy, one to be easily thwarted ; 
 nor, knowing, as she did, Colkett and his wife, did it 
 greatly amaze her. Still, it was rare to hear of crime 
 on the river. She had found more or less explanation 
 of this wickedness in what she remembered of the 
 Colketts, and had said in explanation to Mr. Lyndsay : 
 
 "She was a right fine-looking woman when she 
 married Joe Colkett; but she never was less than 
 bad. She 's about the only one I ever came across 
 that would give her man — that is, her first man — 
 drink, and buy it for him, too, till she poisoned him. 
 When the children came, and two were idiots, like 
 drunkards' brats are, as every one knows, she put it 
 all on her first man — Fairlamb was his name. At 
 last she was left with them, and nothing to do but 
 get another man. She 'd have married 'most any one 
 to keep those children. That 's the only good about 
 her ; but the funny thing is the way that stump of a 
 fellow does love her. He does, though ! " 
 
 " A queer story ! " said Lyndsay. 
 
 Now, as she walked homeward, she said to herself, 
 "But who on earth was that Lady Macbeth Mr. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 139 
 
 Lyndsay talked about ? It must be a book. I forgot 
 to ask. Think I 'd like to read it. I '11 ask Miss 
 Anne. The way a woman p'ints a man is the thing. 
 Guess I 've always p'inted Hiram straight, thank the 
 Lord! I wonder if he 's seen about mending that 
 scythe 1 " 
 
 Meanwhile, by noon, came lazily back Polycarp 
 and the canoe, without a bowman. Lyndsay was 
 vexed. There had been no one at the clearings who 
 could be had. Pierre, when he came in, must go 
 down with the mail. Said Lyndsay: 
 
 "Go back at once. Stop at the Island Camp. 
 There seems to be a lot of men about there. I saw 
 four canoes on the shore. The lumbermen are diiv- 
 ing on that reach. Some one said a photographer 
 was camped there. He can't want both of his 
 men. Don't ask the gentlemen for a man ; I don't 
 know them. Now, mind what I say. Find some- 
 body; I '11 pay him a doUar for his half -day, but 
 don't come back without a bowman." 
 
 " It 's a great thing the way you p'int a man, papa," 
 said Rose. " Mrs. Maybrook has the trick of it." 
 
 " He '11 find some one now. You had better fish 
 the rock stretch, a mile above the Island Camp. The 
 Indian knows, and no one has cast a fly there yet. 
 Be careful not to get on Mr. Carington's water. 
 Watch Polycarp, or he '11 let you fish down to the 
 bay. They are aU born poachers, these fellows." 
 
 Polycarp said "Yes," and no more, and poled 
 doggedly away up the river, not over well pleased. 
 At the camp he beached his canoe. The photog- 
 rapher had gone. The lumbermen could none of 
 
140 WHEN ALL, THE WOODS ABE GKEEN 
 
 them get leave ; and tlie Indian, pleased at the pros- 
 pect of a lazy half-day with his pipe, was on his way 
 back to his canoe, when the tent-fly of the larger 
 canvas home was parted, and he heard: 
 
 " Halloa ! "Want anything ? " 
 
 " Want man for bow to pole down at Cliff Camp. 
 Mr. Lyndsay he goin' a-fishin', and my man sick — 
 hurt leg. No much good." 
 
 " Well, ask the lumbermen." 
 
 "No make any use." At this appeared a second 
 man, also, like the first, in knickerbockers. He wore 
 a glass on one eye, and looked Polycarp over curi- 
 ously. Then he went back, and lay down with a 
 novel and a pipe. 
 
 "Hold on!" said Carington. "Take one of our 
 men J Mr. EUett is n't going to fish to-day." Then 
 his face lit up with a quick look of merriment. 
 " What fun ! I '11 go myself ! " 
 
 "You would n't do that? I would n't do that!" 
 said a voice from the tent. Now, opposition was to 
 this young man like fuel to fire. 
 
 "Why not?" he said. 
 
 " Might be awkward." 
 
 " Oh, you be hanged ! Look here, my man, what 's 
 your name 1 " 
 
 " Polycarp." 
 
 " WeU, you antique saint, I mean to go down with 
 you and pole for your Mr. — what 's his name 1 
 oh, Lyndsay, is it? I can pole. Don't be afraid. 
 Here 's a dollar if you don't let on, — tell, I mean." 
 
 The Indian grinned. 
 
 "This is a spree, Polyglot — Poly-carp — Poly-sal- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 141 
 
 mon, or whatever your multitudinous fishy name is. 
 Do you know what a spree is ? " 
 
 " Plenty heap whisky," said the Indian. 
 
 "Well, there are varieties. Can you hold your 
 tongue ? " 
 
 " Yes — can hold tongue." 
 
 "You can fib a bit?" 
 
 " Heap much." 
 
 " Then remember I am one of the men up here, no 
 matter who." 
 
 " "Well, of all the absurd things ! " said the mentor 
 within the tent. 
 
 " By St. Botolph, as they say in Boston, I need a 
 little absurdity to make a decent average after a fort- 
 night with you, you confounded old conventional 
 et cmtera." And, talking or laughing, he presently 
 emerged in pretty well soiled velveteens, a dingy 
 jacket, slouched felt hat, and his trousers stuffed in 
 his long boots. 
 
 "Are you really going ? " said EUett. 
 
 "I am. Come along, Polycarp. I fancy I 'm 
 dressed in character. What fun ! He will want to 
 pay me," and he whistled as he pushed the bow out 
 into the stream and sat down to paddle. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. Oliver EUett considered his vanish- 
 ing friend from afar with mingled feelings of dismay 
 and admiration. " That is a very remarkable man. 
 I could n't possibly have done that. I think there 
 are several brief insanities besides anger." Then, as 
 if surprised at his own cleverness, he added, " I wish 
 Carington had heard that. Confound it ! " and he 
 smote an army of unseen midges who had taken ad- 
 
142 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 vantage of his abstraction to prey on the ruddy 
 cheeks, which, with a slight tendency to stoutness 
 of girth, gave him a look of youthfulness he much 
 detested. 
 
 " What was it Fred said last night about remorse 
 and midges? Confound it, I forget. Blank the 
 things ! Get a smudge, Steve, — two smudges ! " 
 And he retired again to the tent and his novel. 
 
 He had been drowsily considering the fates of a 
 despairing young woman for a half -hour or more, 
 when he was aware of au unfamiliar voice outside of 
 the tent. Steve, the guide, an honest, good-tempered 
 Gasp6 man, was heard to say : 
 
 "Mr. Carington — he went away a bit back. I 
 did n't see him, sir. I was getting cedar bark for 
 smudges." 
 
 "Where did he go?" 
 
 "Michelle, where is Mr. Carington? Where did 
 he go?" 
 
 " The bowman, fully prepared, replied at once : 
 
 " I don't rightly know." 
 
 At this Mr. EUett bounded from his mattress, and 
 appeared without. The voice he heard first was un- 
 mistakably that of a man of his own world. 
 
 " Beg pardon," he said ; " I was dozing. I am Mr. 
 Oliver Bllett. Won't you come in ? " 
 
 " No, thank you. I have but a few minutes. I am 
 Mr. Lyndsay, from the Cliff Camp. I came to see Mr. 
 Carington. Is he here 1 " 
 
 " No. He has gone off somewhere," 
 
 "On the river?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE QEEEN 143 
 
 " I don't think lie is fishing. Perhaps, if you were 
 to come in and wait a little, he might turn up." 
 
 But this Lyndsay declined. He had run up with 
 Pierre's canoe, and must return to get rid of some yet 
 unanswered letters and be in time to fish the lower 
 pool. 
 
 At last, after a little chat about the salmon, he 
 said: "Are you not Oliver BUett's son, of Boston? 
 I think it must be so: the resemblance is strong. 
 "We were classmates at Harvard." 
 
 " Yes," said EUett ; " he was my father." 
 
 "He was stroke-oar in my boat. If you are as 
 good a fellow — oh, if you are half as good a fellow 
 — we shall be glad to see you and your friend at the 
 Cliff Camp." 
 
 " It will give us great pleasure ; and what shall I 
 say to Carington ? " 
 
 " That can wait. By the way, I sent that Indian of 
 mine to the lumbermen to get a bowman for half a 
 day. I trust he did not trouble you. I gave him 
 strict orders. I saw he had been successful. "We 
 passed him as I came up." 
 
 " Yes, he got some one," said EUett. " It was not one 
 of our men." And so, with further talk of flies and 
 fish, he carefully conducted Mr. Lyndsay to his canoe, 
 and was relieved to hear him tell Pierre to land him 
 on the far shore. 
 
 " One feels the need to use one's legs here. Meet 
 me at the timber brow," he said to Pierre. " I shall 
 walk fast. Good-by, Mr. EUett, and come soon to 
 see us." 
 
144 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEK 
 
 Ellett stood a moment, and then went back to his 
 tent. "I wonder whom he is to pole for? It is n't 
 Mr. Lyndsay. Christopher Columbus ! What a lot 
 of mischief you are responsible for ! No wonder Fred 
 says you have pretty near as much sin to your count 
 as that fair explorer who discovered the new world of 
 wickedness. By George ! If it should be the woman ! 
 He stared at her, Sunday, through his glass as they 
 went by, until I told him it was n't decent. He said 
 it did bring her pretty close. Well, I never heard of 
 falling in love through a telescope. Now, that was n't 
 a bad idea at all." He had no high estimate of him- 
 self, and was occasionally overcome at his own clever- 
 ness. " This beats my novel all to bits. More smudge, 
 Michelle ! " 
 
 Meanwhile the canoe ran down-stream, Fred Car- 
 ington in the bow, and Polycarp, with his change- 
 less, coppery visage, astern. 
 
 As the Indian had by no means hurried himself, 
 the morning was past and luncheon long over when 
 Rose saw the canoe returning. Lyndsay had not 
 come back. At all events, she would have the after- 
 noon fishing. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 [HEN Mr. Lyndsay reacted home, 
 Rose had gone, and he had no chance 
 to take a look at the new bowman : 
 he hoped he was competent. The 
 man in the bow especially has to 
 judge with decision as to the watery 
 way before him, to avoid shallows, to look out for rocks, 
 and instantly to obey every order from the stern. 
 
 When Polycarp's birch, for the Indians always use 
 the bark canoe, ran close to the beach, the bowman 
 stepped out, as the way is, into the water and drew 
 the bark to the shore. Polycarp, silent as a monk of 
 La Trappe, went up the steps. The boys were absent. 
 Miss Anne was off with big-voiced Tom, and Mr. 
 Lyndsay had not returned. Carington began to be 
 curious. " Great Scott ! " he exclaimed, for here was 
 a young woman coming gaily down the steps. She 
 wore a boy's 'cap and carried a basket. Behind her 
 came Polycarp with her rods. 
 
 It is the business of the bowman to use his eyes and 
 not his tongue. The former were now discreetly busy. 
 I scarcely ever knew a talkative bowman. Talk is the 
 privilege of the man at the stern, who rarely hesitates 
 to advise as to the handling of a fish, or to converse 
 with easy freedom. 
 
 10 145 
 
146 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 " I scarcely bargained for this," said Fred to himself. 
 "It 's high comedy, rather. I am in for it. Here 
 goes ! " And he drew the side of the birch close to 
 the shore, readjusted a stone or two of those placed 
 for landing and then steadied the canoe. Miss Lynd- 
 say put a hand on his shoulder, stepped lightly in, and 
 sat down. As usual in this watery travel the low seat 
 for the fisherman is set to face in the direction in 
 which the boat moves, so as to give the view ahead. 
 When about to fish the canoe is run ashore, — beached, 
 they say, — and the seat is turned so as to look to the 
 stem. 
 
 "We are to fish the upper — the rock pool,Polycarp; 
 above the Island Camp — a mile or so, I believe." 
 
 " Me know." 
 
 " And you are to be careful not to go beyond a certain 
 dead pine, or to get onto the water of the Island Camp. 
 We don't know those people, and I wish to be careful.' 
 
 " Me know. Last drop best. Have to cast a little 
 over. No help it." 
 
 " No, not a foot ! These are a couple of Boston 
 gentlemen, and very likely to be disagreeable as to 
 boundaries." Rose was thinking aloud. 
 
 Thereupon the bowman was tempted — " I did hear 
 tell they was awful nice men," 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Rose, not fancying this reply. 
 
 " There won't nobody know," muttered Polycarp, 
 with a chuckle. 
 
 "You bad old poacher," she returned, laughing. 
 " Here is some tobacco for you ; you may smoke, but 
 I can't have you chewing. As to poaching, I hope it 
 won't be necessary." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 147 
 
 As she spoke, the poles clinked as one on the rocks 
 and pebbles, and, keeping close to shore, they gradu- 
 ally forged up-stream. Rose lying back at lazy ease, 
 and hardly hearing the rare words of order or warn- 
 ing from stern to bow. By and by, being, as I have 
 said, an observant young person, she fell to noticing 
 the symmetry and strong Lines of her bowman's 
 figure, and then the thick, brown half-curl of hair 
 under the felt hat. The action, as it repeated itself 
 over and over, struck her fancy. She took at last 
 to analyzing the movement, which beautifully brings 
 out the curves of the tense muscles. She saw that 
 poling on the right side begins with the left hand 
 above, the right below ; and that, in the recover and 
 forward hft for a new hold on the bottom, the right 
 hand is shifted above the left, and the pole is carried 
 forward through the relaxed grip of the left hand, 
 and the push begins again. At last she took out her 
 sketch-book, and pretty soon caught a neat likeness 
 of the man in the last moment of the forward shove, 
 when the balancing power of the man in these un- 
 steady vessels is the most severely tried. Her un- 
 conscious model, now warming to the work, had 
 half forgotten the awkwardness of the position in 
 the pleasure of this manly use of well-trained mus- 
 cles. A little later and he saw Bllett, as they sat 
 down to take their paddles to cross the quieter 
 water before the camp, in order to win the farther 
 shore. " Confound his impudence ! " said Carington 
 to himself, as he became aware of his friend coolly 
 inspecting them with a field-glass from a bank on the 
 margin. 
 
148 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 "Who is that man?" said Miss Lyndsay, turning 
 toward Polycarp, 
 
 " Not know name." 
 
 " Are n't there two gentlemen fishing this reach ? 
 How much water have they ? " 
 
 An Indian usually answers the last question, taking 
 no notice of the first. " They got Mr. George — his 
 water. From bogan up to big tree." 
 
 "Bogan? "What is that?" 
 
 "Just bogan/' said Polycarp. His descriptive 
 powers, as well as his English, were limited. The 
 word which puzzled her is probably an old English 
 term. Still unsatisfied, Rose addressed the tall bow- 
 man. " What is your name, bowman ? " 
 
 " Frederick, ma'am." 
 
 " But your whole name ? " 
 
 " Fairfield." In fact, it was his middle name. 
 
 "What is a bogan, Fairfield?" 
 
 " A kind of a little bay like." He was about to say 
 a cul-de-sac, but stayed his tongue in time. 
 
 "And what is that yellow stuff all along the shore ? 
 It looks like sulphur." 
 
 " It 's the pollen of the alders." 
 
 " Pollen ! " said Rose. 
 
 " Yes ; that 's what the gentlemen calls it. Drops 
 off them bushes, ma'am. Pullen or pollen — I don't 
 rightly mind." 
 
 " Where is our pool, Polycarp ? " 
 
 " 'Most to it now." 
 
 " Oh, there are the burnt lands," said Rose. "What 
 a dreadfully sad-looking place ! " This was a mere 
 personal reflection, unaddressed; but the bowman 
 
WHEN ALL. THE WOODS ABE GREEN 149 
 
 was now in the spirit of his part, and made a shy 
 cast for a rise of interest in his human freight. 
 
 " It 's right mournsome-like." 
 
 The fish rose. " What a beautiful word ! Mourn- 
 some ! Fearsome is another good word up here." 
 
 "Had n't we best anchor?" said Carington. "I 
 say, Polycarp, how is it? I don't know this upper 
 water." 
 
 Rose took a look at the back of this curly head. 
 The voice had not the intonations of Grasp6, but rang 
 out clear over the noise of the rapids. Also the " a's " 
 were broad, and there was a decided south-land note 
 in it, with which Rose was too unfamiliar to cause sus- 
 picion. Polycarp silently turned the canoe, and in 
 a moment beached it. Rose stood; the chair was 
 shifted, and now in a few moments they were at the 
 top of the pool, a swift flow of dark water all around 
 them. 
 
 "Anchor — drop," said Polycarp, as they swung to 
 the current. " Keepee hold short." 
 
 The stream was a hundred yards wide. The hills 
 rose high to right, and already a favoring shadow 
 was on the pool. Rose had lost much time by reason 
 of this trouble about the bowman. It was weU on 
 toward evening. A fish leaped below and then an- 
 other. It was of a truth most beautiful, and the man 
 in the bow, who was now behind Rose, was longing 
 to say as much, but Rose was intent on other mat- 
 ters. A moderate-sized Jock Scott was adjusted, and 
 she began to cast, — still awkwardly enough. 
 
 " I must stand," said Rose. Then she cast better, 
 but stUl in vain. An hour went by. Two people 
 
150 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 were beginning to consider it a little dull. At last 
 once more Polycarp said, " Drop ! " Rose laid her 
 rod on the thwarts, as they slid down some thirty 
 feet, the fly and leader hanging in the water, and the 
 butt behind her. Of a sudden there was a mad 
 splash, the reel ran out, and the bowman, catching 
 the butt, raised the rod, and, leaning over her, put it 
 in her hands. " Take care ! " he said, " he 's off," 
 and away he went across the water. 
 
 " How splendid ! " cried Rose, as she lowered the 
 tip, when the fish made a mighty leap, eighty feet 
 away, and his silvery arched form fell amidst foam 
 onto the dark waves. 
 
 " Look out ! More jump ! " cried the Indian ; and 
 again the reel clicked busily. 
 
 "Reel! Reel!" said the bowman. "Well done, 
 miss ! Reel ! Logs coming, Polycarp I " It was true. 
 A half-dozen dark logs were coming down on them. 
 
 " Darn logs ! " said the Indian, much excited. " You 
 hold hard now. Tip up ! " 
 
 " Yes. Tip up I tip up ! " cried Carington. " There, 
 can you hold him ? If you can't, he will get the line 
 among the logs." They were now out of the current 
 in a side eddy. " So — so ! Hold there, Polycarp ! If 
 he waits a half -minute before he runs, we shall have 
 him. Good! He 's coming! Now lift him, miss! 
 Well done ! Reel ! Reel ! These running fish don't 
 last." 
 
 "See beUy, — much dead. Yah," said the Indian; 
 and the gaff was in, and, amidst laughter and wild 
 splashing, which covered her with water, a fine salmon 
 was in the boat. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 151 
 
 "Admirably done, miss ! " said Carington. " That 
 was well handled." Then he added, " Them fresh-run 
 fish is tough uns." 
 
 Rose began, even amid her tire and excitement, to 
 be a little puzzled. However, they went back to the 
 same drop, and the casting went on as before. A half- 
 hour passed. It was now long after six o'clock. 
 
 " See him rise, ma'am ? " said Polycarp. " Best fish- 
 heap late, heap best fish." 
 
 She cast again, and this time saw the swirl in the 
 water and a glance of white. 
 
 " Much hungry ! " 
 
 After a little while the fly was changed, and then 
 again, until at last the first fly was tried anew. 
 
 " No good ! He no come ! " 
 
 " Hold on a moment," said Carington. " Try this " ; 
 and he took from his head his soft felt hat and threw 
 it over to Polycarp. " There 's a fly in the band : try 
 that. It is a white miller." 
 
 " No good ! " said Polycarp ; but he put it on. The 
 next moment Rose saw a fish dart sideways through 
 the water, and with open mouth take the fly. Then 
 the anchor was up, and the fish away for a wild run 
 down-stream, the reel whizzing, pausing, and whizzing 
 again. For a half-hour of running and reeling this 
 went on. At length the fish hung out steadily in the 
 strong water, his head to the current, while Rose with 
 all her power held him. 
 
 " These runs down-stream are rare," said Carington; 
 " How strong he is ! " 
 
 For an hour the sky had been overcast, and the 
 river-bed in the nest of hiUs was fast growing dim. 
 
152 WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "Are you tired? " said the bowman. " Shall I take 
 the rod ? It might spell you." 
 
 " Oh, no ! Thank you ! No." 
 
 " Grive him a little line — so, slowly; but be careful. 
 Drop the tip a little. It may tempt him to run again. 
 No ! How he holds on ! Might I suggest, Miss Lynd- 
 say," — he had quite forgotten his part in the excite- 
 ment of the contest, — "may I suggest that we drop 
 below him ? " 
 
 This was tried. The fish came duly down-stream. 
 The canoe was agaia brought to the bank, and again 
 there was the salmon out in the heavy water. Each 
 motion of his tail revealed itself by a single " click, 
 click " of the reel. It was now dusk. 
 
 " It is that limp rod : it has no power," said Caring- 
 ton, and, reaching over, he caught a few small stones 
 from the bank, and threw them at the point where at 
 the end of a perilously tense line the fish stiU held his 
 place. 
 
 " No much good ! " 
 
 At last she got in a little line. The salmon was 
 now not over twenty feet from her rod-tip ; but she 
 could no longer see, and it was near to eight o'clock, 
 and, by reason of the coming storm, far more dark 
 than usual at that hour. 
 
 "I shall be eaten by the sand-flies," said Eose. 
 " How they bite ! " It was now too dark to see line 
 or rod-tip. 
 
 " Hold her, Polycarp," said the bowman. " I will 
 make a smudge." And in a moment a thick smoke 
 was whirling from the beach, and cast around her by 
 the rising wind. Then, of a sudden, the smudge, 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 153 
 
 blown into ruddy flame, sent a long flare of light 
 across the water. In an instant the line came home. 
 
 " He is gone ! " cried Rose, in accents of despair. 
 
 "No! no!" cried Carington, f rom the beach: "reel!" 
 
 The flsh, caught by the light, had rushed wildly to- 
 ward it, and run his nose onto the shore. The bow- 
 man, catchiug first a handful of gravel, seized it by 
 the tail, and threw it high up onto the shore, the 
 rod-tip snapping as Rose threw it back of her. 
 
 " Did any one ever see the like? " said Carington. 
 
 "Me see — twice — two time," said the Indian, as 
 he took the spring balance from the fishing-basket. 
 
 "Oh, this is fishing!" cried Rose. "It must be 
 quite two hours ! I know what papa will say. He 
 will say, ' Bad fishing ! ' " 
 
 "But I assure you," said Carington, from the 
 darkened shore, eight or ten feet away, " I can assure 
 you no one could have handled that fish better ! " 
 
 At this Rose was struck silent, and now she wanted 
 to get a good look at this eccentric bowman. 
 
 " No see," said Polycarp ; " 'bout twenty-nine pound ; 
 got match ? " 
 
 " Ah ! " she exclaimed, for now iu an instant there 
 fell a fury of driving rain, which struck her on the 
 face and hands like spent shot. 
 
 " Let me help you," said Carington. " Here. How 
 dark it is ! Take my hand. This spruce will hold 
 off the rain a while." Rose leaped out in haste. 
 
 " It won't last," added the bowman. 
 
 "But what does my fish weigh? Could n't you 
 strike a match and see? I want to know." 
 
 " Certainly, ma'am ! " he said, urgently sensible of 
 
154 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 the need to get back into character. "Best get it 
 •weighed soon. Them fish drops weight a lot." So 
 saying, he took out a silver match-box, and, taking 
 three matches together, struck them on his corduroys, 
 and hastily covered them with the cavern every 
 smoker knows how to make with his hands. The 
 wind put them out at once. 
 
 " No good ! " said Polycarp. 
 
 "But I must know what my fish weighs," urged 
 this persistent young woman. 
 
 "Of course, ma'am!" said the much-amused Car- 
 ington. 
 
 It had become suddenly still darker. Above them 
 the storm roared, as it tossed the plumes of the un- 
 seen tree-tops, and the spruce was no longer a cover. 
 Miss Lyndsay squirmed, and gave a little laugh, as 
 more and more insolent drops crawled down her back. 
 
 " Do hurry," she said, " my good man." 
 
 Meanwhile, Carington again lit a match, this time 
 in the shelter of his hat, and kindled the resinous 
 tips of a pine-branch he had torn away. 
 
 "Thirty-one pounds and over — say thirty-two." 
 As he spoke he held up the fiercely blazing branch, 
 so that its red-and-orange light flared over the water, 
 and, seen in a million drops, cast for a moment dan- 
 cing shadows through the dense woodlands back of 
 them. In this wild light the Indian's visage stood 
 out like some antique bronze, and she saw for the 
 first time clearly a smiling brown face, clean shaven 
 except for a slight mustache. The bowman threw 
 the branch on the water, where it sparkled a mo- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 155 
 
 ment, and said, cheerfully, "WiU the canoe live in 
 this wind, Polycarp ? " 
 
 " Not know I Big much blow ! " 
 
 " Confound it ! " said the bowman. " I think we 
 had better wait a bit, ma'am. Kind of rains like 
 them clouds was buckets turned upside down. It 
 can't last. Are you gettin' wet, ma'am?" 
 
 " No, I am wet," said Rose. " Mama will be so un- 
 easy. Could n't we go ? We must go ! How long 
 WiU it last?" 
 
 Polycarp was silent, and the deluge went on pat- 
 tering on the maples, humming softly on the water 
 when the wind ceased, and the intervals of quiet let 
 iato the ear the myriad noises of the falling drops. 
 Rose set her soul to be patient. She was now too 
 cold for comfort, and very hopelessly soaked. But 
 it was like her to say, " It is nobody's fault, and, 
 after aU, it is great fun." Then Carington, liking 
 the courage and good sense of the woman, forgot 
 himself again. 
 
 " Don't you think it is a little difficult sometimes 
 to say just where amusement ends, and — the other 
 thing begins ? " 
 
 "What other thing?" said Rose, too wet and shiv- 
 ering to be acutely critical. 
 
 "Oh— discomfort!" 
 
 "But I think one may be both amused and un- 
 comfortable." 
 
 "Guess that 's so, miss," said the actor. "It is 
 holding up a little. The clouds are breaking. By 
 George! we have a moon — a bit of one!" 
 
156 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 
 
 "Go now," said the stemman, as lie tilted tlie 
 canoe to rid it of water. 
 
 " Can we risk it ? Are you sure ? " said Rose. 
 
 Carington smiled. He was about to add, gaUy, 
 " Miss Lyndsay's carriage stops the way." He did say, 
 " All right, ma'am. It rains a mawsel, but the wind 's 
 nigh done. We 'd have risked it alone. All ready ? " 
 
 In a moment they were away, in the power of the 
 great river's night march to the sea. Never had 
 Rose felt as full a sense of this vast energy of resist- 
 less water. Again, as once before, she realized the 
 feeling of being walled in by darkness. Then there 
 came the fierce rush through white water, and things 
 like gray hands tossed up to right and left. 
 
 " Look sharp for salmon pillow," said the Indian. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! " cried Carington, intent on the stream 
 before him, silent, a little anxious. " Left ! left ! " he 
 cried. And Rose saw close by, as they fled on, a huge 
 lift of waves, and then again they were away in a 
 more quiet current, and the moon was out and the 
 torn clouds were racing across its steady silver. 
 
 " Here 's a paddle, ma'am," said the bowman. " Try 
 to use it ; it will keep you warm." 
 
 "Thanks," she returned. "What a good idea, 
 Fairfield!" And now in a few moments she was 
 more and more comfortable, and in proportion in- 
 clined to talk and reflect. She concluded that the 
 bowman must have been thrown much with gentle- 
 men in the fishing-season. She wondered if, on the 
 whole, it was good for a man in his position to see 
 the easy comfort of camps, the free use of money, 
 and then to fall back into the hardships and ex- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 157 
 
 posures of tlie winter lumbering. The man puzzled 
 her a little as she tried to reconcile him as he at 
 times had appeared with what she knew must be 
 his common existence. 
 
 "Is lumbering hard work, Fairfield?" She was 
 now seated so as again to face his back. 
 
 " The woods, ma'am, is it, or the drive ? " He was 
 safe here. No man knew better this wood-life. 
 
 "Oh!— both." 
 
 "The spring drive is pretty stiff work; beats a 
 circus, ma'am, jumpin' from log to log in quick 
 water. Ever see a circus ? " he added, with ingenu- 
 ous innocence. 
 
 " Of course, often." 
 
 " I 'd like to see a circus. I did hear tell of one 
 once. There 's the lights. Best let them know " — 
 and he smote the waters with the flat of his paddle. 
 " Guess they '11 hear that." 
 
 The next moment they ran on to the beach, where 
 Mr. Lyndsay was standing. He had been somewhat 
 anxious, but had laughed at the women's fears. 
 
 " All right. Rosy ? " he said. " Go up at once and 
 change your clothes. You must be wet through." 
 
 " I am all right, papa, and two such salmon ; one 
 took nearly two hours ! " 
 
 " Up with you." 
 
 " Yes, Pardy. Don't forget to pay the man. He 
 has been most capable and very thoughtful. I should 
 like to keep him always." 
 
 " What fun ! " thought the bowman. 
 
 " Need n't mind, sir. I can come down for it 'most 
 any time." 
 
158 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKB GREEN 
 
 " I have no change, Rose," said her father. " How 
 much is it ? Oh, a dollar, I think I said. Come down 
 to-morrow, and ask the cook now to give you some 
 tobacco." 
 
 " Thank you, sir, I does n't smoke — at present," he 
 a^ded to himself. 
 
 " Stop, papa ! " cried Rose. " It is absurd to bring 
 this poor feUow aU the way back for a dollar. I have 
 my portemonnaie." So saying, she searched it in the 
 dark. 
 
 " Have you got it ? Hurry, Rose. You will take 
 cold. Bother the child. How persistent you are ! " 
 
 Her fingers encountered only a bundle of notes of 
 amounts not to be known in the gloom, and then, in 
 a [pocket apart, a little gold dollar — a luck-penny, 
 kept for its rarity. She hesitated, but, being chilly 
 and in haste, said, " Here is a dollar, my man. It is 
 one of our old-fashioned gold dollars; but it is aU 
 right. I am very much obliged to you. If I want 
 you again, can you come ? " 
 
 " Maybe, ma'am. Depends on the lumber-boss." 
 
 "WeU, goodnight." 
 
 " G-ood night, ma'am," 
 
 " Do come, Rose." 
 
 "That 's an odd sort of a man, Pardy," said the 
 young woman, while the canoe sped away, and the 
 odd sort of a man said: 
 
 "Set me ashore at the ox-path; no, at the brow 
 above. I 'U walk up. I am soaked. I shall take 
 Colkett's dugout and cross at my camp. Here 's an- 
 other dollar, you old saint, and if ever you teU, I wiU 
 scalp you ! " 
 
WHEN AliL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 169 
 
 " All right, Mr. Carington." 
 
 "Well," exclaimed that gentleman, as he strode 
 away, " if that was n't fun, there is n't decent cause 
 left for a laugh in the universe." Then he lit a pipe, 
 inspected by its dim light the gold dollar, and, smil- 
 ing, carefully put it away in a safe pocket. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 IHE transmutation of the emotions or 
 the passions into one another is 
 among the mysteries of the sphere 
 of morals. In some natures, even 
 the most sacred grief, the outcome 
 of a child's death, I have seen capa- 
 ble of change into anger at a world in which such 
 things are possible. 
 
 Susan had loved her sturdy little boy with unrea- 
 soning ardor, and indulged him to the utmost limit 
 their scant means allowed. He had been like her 
 in face, and this pleased her. He had, too, her mas- 
 culine vigor, and seemed more bone of her bone than 
 the two idiots who had gone early to the grave. 
 
 She sat just within the doorway, rocking. The 
 chair creaked at each strong impulse of her foot. An 
 oblong of sunshine lay at her feet, and in it a faded 
 crape bonnet, last relic of a day when prosperity could 
 afford to grief a uniform. It had turned up in her 
 vain search after a decent garment for the dead. As 
 she continued to rock with violence, the loose planks 
 of the floor moving, a toy ark, the gift of Dorothy to 
 the boy, fell from a shelf. Noah and his maimed 
 beasts tumbled out, and lay on their sides in the sun. 
 She took no note of the scattered menagerie. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOOBS AM aEEEN 161 
 
 The room was in no worse than its usual disar- 
 ray, with no sign of that terrible precision which we as- 
 sociate with the death-chamber. At last she rose 
 quickly, and, pushing the toys and bonnet aside with 
 an impatient foot, left the rocking-chair in motion, 
 and trod heavily up and down the room, opening 
 and shutting her hands as she walked. She fed her 
 rage with each look she cast on her dead boy. 
 
 A far gentler woman once said to me that there 
 was for her in her child's death the brutality of in- 
 sult. Some such feeling was now at work with 
 Susan Colkett. 
 
 In her younger life she had lived on a farm in 
 upper Canada, a tall, pretty, slim girl, quick of 
 tongue, unruly, and with an undeveloped and sensual 
 liking for luxury and ease. Then she married a man 
 well enough off to have given her a comfortable life. 
 A certain incapacity to see consequences, with that 
 form of fearlessness which is without fear until the 
 results of action or inaction are too evident, led her 
 to be careless of debts. Then her husband drank, 
 and grew weary of her tornadoes of unreasoning 
 anger; the idiot children came, and she began to 
 think of what even yet she might realize for herself 
 if he were dead. Making no effort to stop him, she 
 let him go his way, seeing without one restraining 
 word the growth of a deadly habit. Dorothy had 
 said that she helped his downward course even more 
 actively. His death left her penniless, but free. Men 
 were unwilling, however, to face her wild temper, and 
 when, at last, her looks were fast fading, to help the 
 only things in the world she cared for, she took the 
 u 
 
162 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 stout little man who had for her from his youth an 
 unchanging affection. Misfortune taught her no 
 good lessons. Even now she hated work, loved ease, 
 and lacked imagination to picture consequences. 
 Amidst the animal distress her child's death occa- 
 sioned, she was still capable of entertaining the 
 thought of crime; in fact, her loss contributed a 
 new impulse in the storm of fury it evoked. They 
 were close to the end of their resources. There is 
 in Paris a Place St. Opportune. Who this saint was, 
 I know not. His biography might be of interest. 
 There is probably a fallen angel of the same name 
 who makes the paths of virtue slippery. Crime had 
 been near to this woman for years, and ever nearer 
 since disaster had been a steady companion. She 
 had lacked opportunity, and that alone. Nor was 
 this the only time she had cast temptation in the 
 way of her simple-minded husband. 
 
 At last, as, striding to and fro, she went by the 
 doorway, she saw Dorothy, and with her a thin man 
 in shining, much-worn, black alpaca clothing. 
 
 She knew at once that he was the preacher who 
 had been brought up from Mackenzie to bury her 
 child. 
 
 Upon this she turned back into the room, and 
 stood a moment by the two chairs on which lay the 
 pine box which Joe had made. The little fellow 
 within it had been hardly changed by his brief ill- 
 ness. He was fair to see; white, and strongly mod- 
 eled; and now he was beautiful with the double 
 refinements of youth and death. She touched his 
 cheek as if to test the reality of death, and then 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 163 
 
 kissed him, and, laying over him the rude cover, 
 turned away. 
 
 At the door she met Dorothy and the minister. 
 Dorothy said, " Good morning, Susan." 
 
 " You 've been a heap of time comin'." 
 
 Dorothy, glancing at Mrs. Colkett, did not enter, 
 but stepped to one side and, leaning against the log 
 wall, waited. The little man in the worn alpaca suit 
 was stopped as he turned to go in by the gaunt form 
 of his hostess. 
 
 " There ain't no need to go in or to preach," she 
 said. 
 
 Upon this Dorothy plucked at his coat-skirt, and, 
 much embarrassed, he fell back, saying, " That 's as 
 friends please." 
 
 Then Joe came from the cow-shed and went in past 
 his wife. As he went by, he nodded cheerfully to 
 Dorothy and to the preacher. " 'Most ready ; won't 
 be long." 
 
 Mrs. Colkett stood looking across the clearing. 
 The preacher, uneasily moving to and fro, at last ap- 
 proached her again. " My sister," he said, " the hand 
 of the Lord has been heavy on this household of his 
 people." From her great height Susan Colkett cast 
 her eyes down on the wan little person below her. 
 "It is fit," he went on, "that whUe — " 
 
 " Look here," said Susan ; " you 've come to bury 
 that child, and that 's all you 're here for. Just set 
 down and wait " ; and so saying, she brought out two 
 crippled chairs. 
 
 Dorothy said, " No, I will stand." 
 
 The preacher sat down without a word, and found 
 
164 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 occupation in keeping his place, as the chair-legs 
 bored unequally into the soft soil. At last, greatly- 
 troubled, he looked toward Dorothy for consolation, 
 and, receiving none, at last fell on his knees in deep 
 despair. " Oh, Lord ! " he cried, " move the heart of 
 this woman that she may receive the message of thy 
 grace ! " and on this Dory too knelt in the sunshine, 
 while Susan turned and went into the house. 
 
 Then there arose within the rude noise of loud 
 hammering, and, utterly confused, the unhappy 
 preacher looked up, and saw that he was alone 
 with Dorothy. 
 
 "What manner of people are these?" he said, as 
 they both arose. "I must speak to her," and he 
 moved toward the door. 
 
 "I would n't," said Dorothy, touching Ms coat. 
 "Not now. Another time." 
 
 He said no more, and the pair stayed without, 
 waiting with no further words, while the hammering 
 went on. At last it ceased. Joe came out, wringing 
 a finger. " I kind of mashed it," he said, in an ex- 
 planatory voice. "Susie 's ready." He went back, 
 and soon came out again with the white box held in 
 front of him on his two outstretched arms. 
 
 The mother followed, looking straight before her 
 — a strange, high-colored, set face, the tightly shut 
 jaw making hard lines in the lower cheek-curves. 
 The meager preacher came after with a book in his 
 hand, and Dorothy followed. 
 
 In the woods Joe stumbled once, and a moment 
 after set down his strange burden and wrung his 
 hurt finger. Then he went on again into the deeper 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 165 
 
 woodland, and about two hundred yards from the 
 house stopped and set the box on a level stump. 
 Before them were two crumbled mounds of earth, 
 and beyond a small open grave, not over-deep. 
 
 The clergyman came forward. 
 
 " I might put it in ? " said Joe, interrogatively. 
 
 " Yes," said Dorothy. " Let me help." And, taking 
 the cofl&n at each end, they let it down, for the grave 
 was shallow. 
 
 "Them roots is in the way; they bothered me 
 when I was a-diggin'," said Joe. 
 
 " Hush ! " exclaimed Dorothy. " Hush ! " 
 
 As they stood up, the minister went on to read his 
 simple burial service. Susan Colkett paid, or seemed 
 to pay, intense attention. At last he ceased, and all 
 stood still a moment in the deep wood-shadows, for 
 the twilight was near at hand. There was a little stir 
 as Dorothy took from her handkerchief a handful of 
 roses and let them fall into the open grave. Susan 
 looked at her a moment, and then, turning to the 
 preacher, said, coldly : 
 
 " Is that all of it ? I don't want none left out." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Don't rich people have no more said than that ? " 
 
 "No; that is all," he replied, much astonished. 
 " Would n't you like me to talk to you at the house ? " 
 
 " No, I would n't. My man he '11 pay you." And 
 she walked away. The minister wiped his brow, and 
 sat down on a stump, while Dorothy waited, and Joe 
 calmly began to fill up the little grave. 
 
 He paused once to give the minister the cost of his 
 journey, and then went on, 
 
166 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 " Come," said Mrs. Maybrook. " No ; don't go in," 
 she added, as they passed the cabin. " Let her alone." 
 
 " The Lord has made my errand hard," he said. 
 
 " No ; he has n't took a hand in the matter at all," 
 she said. " It 's the devil ! Come ! " And they dis- 
 appeared in the darkening wood-spaces. 
 
 Before Joe had quite done, he was aware of his 
 wife again standing beside him. 
 
 "What 's wrong?" he said. "Best wait in the 
 house. I '11 come. And don't bother none for the 
 supper. I '11 cook it." 
 
 " Could n't you set a board over the boy ? " she said. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " They 're just buried like dead dogs ! " 
 
 "I'Ugitsomethin'." 
 
 " What 's the use, anyhow ? If you were any good 
 of a man, there 'd be a decent white stone like them 
 Ljmdsays has set." 
 
 " Oh, I 'U find somethin', Susie ! I 'U think about 
 it." He was anxious to get through with it all, and 
 somewhere deep in his mind was moved by her want. 
 
 " It ain't no use thinking," she said, " when you 've 
 got no money." And so, at last, she went away once 
 more to the wretchedness they called home, leaving 
 him to complete his task. 
 
 It was now dusk. He sat down on a log, and wiped 
 his brow with his sleeve. There was a little tobacco 
 left in his pouch. He lit a pipe, and sat awhile in 
 dull rumination, like some slow ox, recalling her 
 words. At last he took the pipe out of his mouth, 
 and stood up, as one set on the clear track of an idea. 
 A difficulty occurred to him. 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 167 
 
 " I '11 do it. No one won't know. There don't no- 
 body come here." A moment later a new obstacle 
 arose is his mind, and he resumed his pipe and his 
 seat. 
 
 "That '11 do," he said. "I'U get Dory to help. 
 She won't think for to suspect none." And so, much 
 cheered by the prospect of pleasing his wife, he went 
 away to the cow-shed. 
 
 His had been a poor, loveless life. An orphan boy, 
 he had never possessed ability or power to win affec- 
 tion or respect for anything except his muscles. Yet 
 a canine capacity to love without question was in him, 
 and the tall, gaunt woman who alone had put out a 
 hand of apparent trust to him had aU of his simple 
 attachment. 
 
 Now he extinguished his pipe, knocked it on a tree 
 to shake out the live ashes, put it in his pocket de- 
 cisively, and went back to the house. 
 
 He had a sense of satisfaction in the notion that he 
 would surprise his wife with fulfilment of her de- 
 sires : also he felt surprise, and as much elation as he 
 was capable of, at his own skill in seeing his way 
 through this enterprise. "What she, the poor hurt 
 mother, wanted was now in single possession of a 
 mind little able to transact mental business with more 
 than one importunate creditor at a time. 
 
 To take what is not your own is common enough. 
 The higher criminal mind disposes of the matter with 
 some sophistry as to the right to have a share in the 
 unjust excess of another's property. The utterly im- 
 moral nature gives it no thought, save how to act 
 with safety. The lowest type of man is untroubled 
 
168 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 as to the ethics of thieving, and as little as to per- 
 sonal results. The idea that another might siiffer in 
 proportion to what his own wife would gain never 
 passed the threshold of this poor fellow's conscions- 
 ness. What he was about to do seemed to him easy 
 and safe. He was certain that Susie would like it, 
 and would think him more of a man. And that 
 was all. 
 
CHAPTER Xn 
 
 R. LTNDSAT, as we now know, 
 came back without having seen Mr. 
 Carington. His purpose was, how- 
 ever, unchanged. Yet, as there was 
 no immediate need to act, and no 
 present danger, he concluded to 
 wait, quite sure that the two gentlemen on whom he 
 had called must, when they returned his courtesy, 
 give him an easy chance to say to Carington what he 
 had heard. Thus having decided what to do, and 
 that delay involved no possibility of mischief, he put 
 it aU aside for the time. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Island Camp was the scene of 
 amusing debate. The next morning, as they lay on 
 their tent mattresses and smoked that most blissful 
 first love of the day, the after-breakfast pipe, EUett 
 took up the talk of the night before. 
 
 " I told you that you would get in a scrape." 
 "It was n't that. 'My lands!' as Mrs. Maybrook 
 says, what a noble adventure! If I only could do it 
 again ! No, I don't repent. Far from it ; I would 
 like to do it again. It was just too altogether de- 
 licious, as the girls say." 
 
 " But you will have to call. Mr. Lyndsay has been 
 to see you, and go to see him you must, if I have to 
 carry you ! " 
 
170 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 " But I can't and I won't ! I am a bad boy. Just 
 now it is all a beautiful and adventurous dream. I 
 don't want to see that woman again — ever. It would 
 spoil the romance of it. Go yourself. Tou can drop 
 down in mid-morning. No one will be in. Leave my 
 card on the table." 
 
 " What stuff, Fred ! You can't get out of it. Mr. 
 Lyndsay wants to see you. He called on you, not 
 on me." 
 
 " But I don't want to see him. Imagine my having 
 to explain and apologize, and fetch the whole thing 
 down to the dreary level of prose. I am ill; I am 
 dead ; I shall go home — anything ! " 
 
 He was at his high level of reckless enjoyment of a 
 delightful indiscretion, and a part of his delight lay 
 in the distress it occasioned his soberly conventional 
 friend. He was himself, in truth, a graver man than 
 EUett, but took into his work as a successful engineer 
 the same gaiety which ran riot in his holiday hours. 
 It had its value with the men who did work under his 
 eyes, and helped him and them over some hard places. 
 At need he became instantly a cool, watchful, cau- 
 tious man, with the bearing and reserve of middle 
 life. To those who saw him only in his utter aban- 
 donment of glee, ready as a boy for any merry enter- 
 prise, and by no means disliking it the more if it 
 brought physical risks, it was hardly conceivable that 
 he should be, back of all this, a man of strong opin- 
 ions, political and religious, of definite views, and of 
 an almost fantastic sense of honor. 
 
 " Can't you be decently quiet a moment, and think 
 aUttle?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 171 
 
 " Don't want to," returned Carington. " Git away 
 wid ye ! You are like Eve : yon want to introduce a 
 knowledge of good and evil into this Eden of mine. 
 Go, fish, and let me alone. I want to dream it over : 
 that scene in the wood, the rain, the wild orange, 
 light for a minute, that copper-head saint. It was 
 reaUy great, Oliver! Beats the Bowery Theater! 
 And, oh! — I forgot to tell yon. She told her pa I 
 was such a good bowman! — so thoughtful! and 
 could n't she have me always 1 Always, Oliver ! The 
 bHss of that ! " 
 
 " I don't see how you can see anything amusing in 
 it, Fred. It is n't as if this was some common New 
 York girl, with a boarding-school civilization. Now 
 that 's a rather neat phrase, 'a boarding-school 
 civilization.' " 
 
 "Is it? What else?" 
 
 "Nothing. I only meant to say these Lyndsays 
 are gentlefolk, and won't be very weU pleased." 
 
 " You old idiot ! Do you suppose I don't know 
 that ? Put your brains to work. Here am I at the 
 end of the first volume of a lovely romance; situa- 
 tion entirely novel. I wish to stop there ; the 
 second and third volumes are sure to fall ofiE dis- 
 mally. The problem is, how not to go on ; or, if I 
 must, how to drop from poetry to prose." 
 
 "I should think you must have dropped pretty 
 distinctly when Mr. Lyndsay paid you; I suppose 
 he did." 
 
 " Sir, I was paid in gold of the Bank of Spain — in 
 coin no longer current — by the woman herself." 
 
 " Would you kindly interpret 1 " 
 
172 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 " I will " ; and he told the scene on the beach. 
 
 " Let me see that gold doUar." 
 
 " See it I Not I. No profane eyes shall — " 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! She will very likely want it 
 back. Probably it was a luck-penny." 
 
 " Very like. I shall keep it for luck. You are an 
 iconoclast of dreams. Let 's go and kill fish. I have 
 been trying to divide my enchanted mood with you. 
 It has been a dismal failure. The fact is, I know as 
 well as you — and a blank sight better — that this is 
 a lady, that these are nice people, and that I am in a 
 scrape. But to-day they may all go to the deuce and 
 the bow-wows. 'Let the great world spin forever, 
 down the ringing grooves of change.' He must have 
 meant a railway. I never thought of that before. 
 Don't bother. I '11 go and call some day. Come, 
 let 's km salmon." And they went to their canoes. 
 
 While this dreadful thing was agitating Mr. Bllett's 
 mind, it was also receiving due consideration at the 
 breakfast-table of the Cliff Camp. 
 
 Eose Lyndsay, despite remonstrance, had been sent 
 at once to bed on her return, and supplied with hot 
 tea and more substantial diet, and ordered to go to 
 sleep. Next to being wicked through and through, 
 to be wet through and through was, to Mrs. Lynd- 
 say's mind, one of the most serious of human catas- 
 trophes. She was gently positive, and so Rose lay 
 very wide-awake, and considered at ease the events 
 of a most agreeable day, until, thinking with a little 
 regret of her luck-penny, she fell asleep, only to wake 
 up with the sunlight streaming in as her mother 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 173 
 
 opened the curtains, and to hear the pervasive voices 
 of the boys singing under her window : 
 
 Up in the momiii' 's nae for me ! 
 
 " Overslept yourself, Rose ! " 
 
 "Are you dry yet?" 
 
 " That salmon is only thirty pounds. You awful 
 fraud!" 
 
 " All right, dear, to-day ? " were the salutations of 
 the noisy table, as she distributed her morning kisses, 
 and at last sat down. 
 
 " One at a time," she replied. " Fair play, boys. 
 First, I am nearly dry. Second, salmon always loses 
 weight." 
 
 " I have noticed that," laughed her father. " Tell 
 us aU about it, my dear." And upon this she related 
 the adventures of the previous day. 
 
 " I must have my luck-penny," she added. " I was 
 a goose to give it away, but I was so cold and wet, 
 and I was in such a hurry. I hated to send the man 
 away without a cent." 
 
 " It is odd that he took it," said Anne. 
 
 " Yes," returned her brother. " These fellows are 
 sharp enough about their pay and about money ; and 
 he could n't have known what he was taking. These 
 coins circulate no longer, even in the States. He 
 never said a word, but merely put it in his pocket. 
 What sort of a fellow is he, Rose 1 " 
 
 " It is so hard to describe people." 
 
 "It is impossible," said Anne, " even on a passport." 
 
174 WHEN MX, THE WOODS AEE aEEEN 
 
 " Not quite. Tall, and curly hair — very curly hair." 
 
 " That 's satisfactory, Rose," remarked Jack. 
 
 " I had not done. Oh, what I thought strange was 
 the man's manner. Now and then he spoke as if he 
 was talking to an equal, and really he has a voice 
 quite fuU of pleasant tones. The next minute he 
 talked like Thunder Tom, or worse." 
 
 "I must ask Carington about him. By the way, 
 I was right as to EUett. He is a son of my old com- 
 panion. I fancy they will be here to-day or to-mor- 
 row. If this present Oliver is like his father, he will 
 be solid, stolid, — a rock of good sense." 
 
 " I don't want him, Marcus Aurelius, nor the other. 
 For a first-class B. 0. 1 prefer my young man of the 
 gold dollar. But I must have it again. I am not at 
 all sure now that honesty is the best policy. When 
 you see Mr. Carington, Pardy, do ask about the man. 
 He seemed quite above his class. Ned, I cannot wait 
 for you to finish your interminable meal." 
 
 "I think he just chews for exercise," said Dick. 
 "Might arrange, if the meat was tough enough, to 
 keep his appetite up all the time. Would n't that be 
 fine, Ned?" 
 
 "I don't think any of my boys require artificial 
 aid," said Mrs. Lyndsay. "Dugald Dalgetty was a 
 trifler to you." 
 
 "I have n't got to the fish yet, and it 's my own 
 salmon," said the boy, helping himself. 
 
 "We want to have Rose to-day," said Dick, be- 
 tween mouthfuls. "I want her to go up to the 
 brook. There 's a marsh there, and Drosera — oh, 
 lots! It 's far north for it, too." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 175 
 
 "What is Drosera, Dicky?" 
 
 " Fly-trap ; and there are some purple orchids." 
 
 "For this once I will compromise," said Anne. 
 " I want to see Archie kUl a salmon. If you will as- 
 sure me of Rose to-morrow afternoon, you may have 
 her to-day." 
 
 "And I am to take care of myself," said her bro- 
 ther. "I never hear of compromises without think- 
 ing of Dr. North's illustration. I must have told 
 you, Margaret." 
 
 " If you ever did, I have forgotten." 
 
 Stories were pretty often retold in this household, 
 and it was the way to consider them as guests to be 
 made welcome, no matter how often they came. 
 
 Lyndsay smiled. " Two Germans, who were North's 
 patients, built houses together and adjoining. Then 
 each of them bought paint enough to paint both 
 houses; one chose green and one a fine brick-red. 
 This ended in a quarrel. Dr. North advised them to 
 consult their priest, and this they did. He said, 
 ' Shust you make a gompromise, and migs de baints.' 
 So this was done, and neither got what he wanted. 
 This is of the essence of all compromise." 
 
 " But I shaU get what I want," said Anne. 
 
 "And we, too!" cried the boys. "We will take 
 Rose and lunch and Big Tom, and Pierre and you 
 can have the Indian, father." 
 
 "And his lame bowman, if he be weU enough,'' 
 added Lyndsay. " Thanks." 
 
 " And I shall take my rifle," said Dick. 
 
 " No, unless you go alone," said Lyndsay. 
 
 " All right ; we '11 fish for trout, Rose," cried Jack. 
 
176 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 " Red Head can hunt beasts in the swamp, and Ned 
 shall sit on a stump and make poetry." 
 
 " Be sure not to be late again, Rose. I was a good 
 deal troubled last night." 
 
 " Yes, Pardy ; but my watch has stopped. It got 
 wet through, last night, poor thing ! I fear it is ut- 
 terly ruined. It was not worth much." 
 
 " Never mind, dear," said Anne, " I will give you 
 one when we get home." To give was Anne's great joy. 
 
 "For a drowned watch intemperance is the cure," 
 said Lyndsay : " total immersion in alcohol or whisky 
 is the sole remedy. I never carry one here; it re- 
 minds me too much of the minor oppressions of 
 civilization." 
 
 "And, after all," said Anne, " punctuality is a quite 
 modern virtue." 
 
 "Yes. I think a Quaker in the reign of Anne 
 has the terrible responsibility of the invention of 
 the minute hand. In another century we shall say, 
 ' You are late six seconds ; is this the way you keep 
 engagements ? ' " 
 
 " It makes one shiver to think of it ; and, by the 
 way. Jack, I promised you a watch at Christmas. Be 
 sure to remind me." 
 
 " I 'd rather have something else, Aunt Anne." 
 
 "Why, Jack?" 
 
 " Oh, I know lots of fellows carry watches. They 
 have an awful time." 
 
 "The watches?" 
 
 " No ; those boys. If you have a watch, you have 
 to wind it up, and the fellows ask what time it is ; 
 and if you play, it gets smashed ; and if you have a 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 177 
 
 fight, you have to get another fellow to hold it, and 
 he forgets — " 
 
 " Gracious ! The simplicity of the mind of youth 1 
 You would prefer — a new bat ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed, and a good foot-ball." 
 
 " I am a female Kriss Kringle, — presents to order." 
 
 " Thank you. Aunt Anne. And I say, Rosy Posy, 
 get lunch ready. Oh, quit eating and come along, 
 Dick!" 
 
 Upon this Dick secured a biscuit and followed him, 
 while Anne and the rest went out onto the porch. 
 
 " I trust, Margaret, those young men will not re- 
 gale you and me with their society at lunch. What 
 a wholesome thing it would be to have a man- 
 smudge! I get no time to read. But you said 
 Dorothy would be over to lunch. That is better. 
 What fun it would be if the stolid, solid Boston man 
 should turn up. I could enjoy the combination, I 
 think." Then she walked to the cliff-edge, smiling, 
 for there was a battle imminent between the boys. 
 
 " I mean to paddle," said Jack. 
 
 "No, I '11 pole." 
 
 " Not with me in the canoe," said Rose. 
 
 " I 'm to paddle," cried Dick. 
 
 " May I sit by you? " said Ned. 
 
 " You sha'n't, if I can't pole," cried Dick. " You 
 always want Rose." 
 
 " You 're hard to please, boys." 
 
 " I 'm not ; I 'm soft to please," said Ned. 
 
 " Get in I " And so, with some coaxing from Rose, 
 the peacemaker, they got away. 
 
 "And I should like a boy-smudge, Anne," said 
 
178 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 Lyndsay, who had quietly watched the proceedings 
 on the shore. 
 
 "They are delightful." 
 
 "You have no responsibility for them, my dear 
 sister. You know what Marcus Aurelius says: 'Ir- 
 responsibility arises from an imphilosophical indif- 
 ference to — to — ' " 
 
 "Consequences," cried Anne, laughing. "You 
 worry too much over the boys, Archie. I mean it. 
 You take them too seriously. Permit me to say you 
 are too consequentitious." 
 
 "What a word! Did you make it? I can't help 
 worrying. I am always thinking of what their fu- 
 ture wiU be. One should give some thought to the 
 morrow, and other people's morrows are the real 
 difficulty." 
 
 "See Marcus Aurelius, chapter third," said Anne, 
 maliciously. " ' To-morrow is only a stranger ; when 
 he is to-day consider how thou shalt entertain him.' " 
 
 "That is not my way, Anne." And he left her, 
 saying, "Jack is the one I fear for most." 
 
 " I least," said Anne to herself. " I shall not be 
 here to see, whatever, as Tom says." Then she sat 
 down to her book about the Council of Trent, and by 
 and by varied it with a little tough work on Csed- 
 mon's Anglo-Saxon riddles, smiling as she read, — a 
 good, half-dozen kind of smiles, of which she alone 
 had the secret. 
 
 By and by came Margaret Lyndsay and sat down, 
 her knitting-needles clicking, until Anne's unlucky 
 nervousness, kept in hand with difficulty, was viciously 
 alive. At last Mrs. Lyndsay laid aside her work with 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 17S 
 
 a certain deliberation, for those who knew her best a 
 signal of serious moment. She said, "You won't 
 mind, dear, if I say something I have had on my 
 mind?" 
 
 "I? Oh, no! What is it?" 
 
 " I sometimes think, dear, that the endless triviali- 
 ties into which you and Archibald lead those boys are 
 not, dear, a good thing. I have spoken to Archibald 
 about it, and he quite agrees with me. I sometimes 
 think Archibald agrees with me too easily. I would 
 rather he argued the matter ; but he is so apt to say, 
 ' Certainly, Margaret ! ' and then to go and smoke. 
 I do wish you would consider it seriously. And you 
 are so capable of wiser and more instructive talk. 
 You won't mind what I say, dear?" 
 
 " My dear Margaret," replied Anne, with some irri- 
 tation, "shall we converse about the Council of Trent? 
 Also the enigmas of Csedmon are instructive; the 
 manners and customs of the Angles are stated there 
 in a manner to combine interest with amusement, in- 
 struction with perplexity." 
 
 "Why do you answer me in that way? You al- 
 ways do. Anne, you are too bad ! You know well 
 enough what I mean." 
 
 " Yes, I know," she said, a little wearily. " I think 
 you are hardly just. You see only one side of things. 
 At all events, the whole logic of the situation is this : 
 When you have a headache, you go to bed and dose 
 yourself, and put stuff on your temples ; when I am 
 in pain from head to foot, — I was at breakfast, — I 
 go merry mad and say things. You wiU have to 
 stand it, unless I go away." 
 
180 "WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "Oh, Anne! How can you liurt me so? Go away?" 
 
 "I spoke hastily: I don't mean that. But some- 
 times, Margaret, you so completely fail to compre- 
 hend me that I feel I had better be away. You can 
 never change me." 
 
 "But you — you could change yourself." 
 
 "Could I, indeed? And trust me, Margaret, I 
 shall go on as gay, as inconsequent, as merry ; but 
 if I can teach, if anything in my life teaches these 
 boys to laugh when they might cry, I shall not have 
 lived in vain. I am sure we are aU grave enough at 
 times. When I go wild, and say absurd things, pity 
 me. A jest is my smelling-salts ; a joke is my medi- 
 cine. Believe me — oh, it is true: the custom of 
 laughter is good." 
 
 "But this constant amusement at everything — 
 yes, everything!" 
 
 "There is quite enough that is serious, even now, 
 in these young lives. The laugh of a fool is as the 
 crackling of thorns, and heats no water in the pot ; but 
 the grin of the wise boUs the kettle of wisdom. There ! " 
 
 The illustration was unhappy. 
 
 " I think, dear, you might put Scripture to wiser 
 use than to twist it into a defense of this perpetual 
 levity. It seems strange to me that you cannot see 
 these things as I see them." 
 
 " Better to give me up as a hopeless case. I shall 
 laugh till I die, and if afterward the supply gives out 
 I shall feel glad that I neglected no reasonable chance 
 on earth." 
 
 " There is a time for aU things, Anne, and some- 
 times — " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 181 
 
 " Yes, I know. Only we differ as to the times. I 
 think, now, I must go in and rest a little." 
 
 This was the usual end of their discussions. Anne 
 was mentally victor, but physically defeated. " Yes, 
 I am sure that will be best." Upon this Anne went 
 away with a smile that was not quite pleasant. In 
 her room she stood a moment and then said, "D. A. M ! 
 I think that is good French. The Lord deliver us 
 from the gentle ! " and so fell in a heap on the bed, 
 with set teeth and very white. 
 
CHAPTER Xm 
 
 and good temper, 
 the wise man said : 
 
 IEANWHILB the overladen canoe 
 went away up the river. "And 
 now, boys," said Rose, "this is my 
 day, and there must be no quarrels. 
 We are pretty well packed in one 
 canoe, and I will have only sunshine 
 And do sit stUl. Remember what 
 
 Three Irislimen of Timbuctoo, 
 They went to sea in a hitdh canoe. 
 They Moked up such a hullabaloo 
 That they never got back to Timbuotoo. 
 
 Remember that, boys." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Ned. " I know a better one — 
 
 There was a yovrng man of Siam, 
 As oooasionally murmured a damn ! 
 
 Monotonous virtue 
 
 Is certain to hurt you ; 
 So he swallowed a taciturn clam." 
 
 " What nonsense ! " cried Rose. 
 "That 's good about monotonous virtue," said 
 Jack. "A whole day and no row!" 
 " Not one," said Rose. 
 
 182 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 183 
 
 "Why, Rose, if a fellow don't figlit somebody, 
 what 's to become of him?" 
 
 "I guess we are n't any less brave than the Ro- 
 mans," remarked Ned, sententiously. "If you gemini 
 had a hornets' nest to fight every day, you would let 
 me alone. I hate to fight." 
 
 " Oh ! There 's a nice fat fib." 
 
 "I do. I had to eat dinner standing up for two 
 days after that scrimmage." 
 
 " Yes, little peaceful man ! " said Jack. " Tell us a 
 story, Rose. It 's an houi- to the brook." 
 
 " Very well. Once on a time there was a princess. 
 She was terribly rich, and as pretty — " 
 
 "As you," said Ned. 
 
 " No interruptions, sir ! She was very beautiful, 
 and very, very hard to satisfy. A great many lovers 
 came to ask her to marry them. None of them 
 pleased her, but so many came that to save trouble 
 she wrote a big ' No ! ' on her visiting cards, and 
 gave every man one as he came in, and this saved a 
 great deal of trouble. When there were no more 
 lovers left in the world but only three, she began to 
 be afraid she would never get married at all. So she 
 tore up her cards, and was polite to these three. 
 Their names were Hurdy-Gurdy and Trombone and 
 Mandolin. At length her father said she must make 
 up her mind. At first she thought she would draw 
 lots, but by and by she resolved to marry the most 
 courageous of the three." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Jack, " I like that." 
 
 " One day they were all four walking by the river, 
 and, as if by accident, she fell in. 'Oh, dear!' she 
 
184 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 cried, ' I shall drown.' Then Hurdy-Gurdy sat down 
 and began to whittle a shingle ; , but Trombone 
 jumped in, and, as she flopped about a great deal, he 
 was like to drown himself. Then in jumped Mando- 
 lin, and pidled them both out by the hair. 
 
 "Then all three spread themselves in the sun, to 
 dry. And the princess said, ' Now, which is the most 
 courageous ? ' 
 
 "Trombone cried, 'I! Because I dashed in to 
 save you, without hesitation.' 
 
 " ' But,' said Mandolin, ' you did not save her. I 
 pulled you both out.' 
 
 " ' I was first,' said Trombone. 
 
 " ' Certainly ! ' said the princess, which her name 
 was Henrietta, and she was so called because she was 
 fond of algebra, and preferred even an' improper frac- 
 tion to the most virtuous of men. Said she, ' "What 
 good was your courage, if it only served to drown us 
 both? You are neither of you as brave as me.'" 
 
 "Oh! "cried Ned. 
 
 "They always speak bad grammar in fairy-land, 
 because it is romantic, a-nd because then the young 
 princesses can be sure that the princes are thinking 
 more of them than of the mere choice of words." 
 
 " Guess Jack would have a fine chance ! " said Ned. 
 
 " Don't interrupt me. Where was I ? Oh ! 
 
 " ' You are neither of you as brave as me, because 
 I have to marry one of you, and that is an act of 
 courage of which a man is incapable. Also, I can't 
 swim, but I fell in so as to see which of you is the 
 bravest. I f eU in ! Trombone jumped in ! Mandolin 
 leaped in ! ' 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GKEEN 185 
 
 " ' But I saved you ! ' said Mandolin. 
 
 " ' A mere question of brute skUl,' urged Trombone. 
 'It is braver to jump in when you can't swim tban 
 when you can.' 
 
 " ' It is very puzzling,' cried Henrietta. ' The per- 
 sonal equation — '" 
 
 " I know what that is," cried Ned. 
 
 " Shut up, old wisdom ! Go ahead, Rosy Posy." 
 
 " ' It is a question in the rule of three. As Trom- 
 bone is to Mandolin, so is me to the answer.' 
 
 " ' That leaves me out,' said Hurdy-Grurdy. 
 
 " ' You stayed out !' cried Mandolin, with scorn. 
 
 "'I don't see my way,' said the princess. 'Let 
 Mandolin be B, and Hurdy-Gurdy C, and I am — ' 
 
 " ' B, C puts them both out of the question,' said 
 Trombone. ' They are dead.' " 
 
 "Sancho Panza!" cried Ned. "What fine non- 
 sense ! " 
 
 " Do keep quiet," said Jack. 
 
 " ' And me — I — oh, bother ! ' said Henrietta. ' It 
 comes out even.' 
 
 "'But,' said Hurdy-Gurdy, 'it is heart-rending 
 what I suffered. I alone had the courage not to jump 
 in. I had the courage of my opinion, which was that 
 I should be drowned, and so break your heart. I 
 really could n't. There are three hundred and twenty- 
 one kinds of courage.' 
 
 " Gracious! How numerically interesting!' said 
 Henrietta. ' Dry yourselves, and I will reflect.' 
 
 " So she left the three seated on the bank, in the 
 Bun, and went away. But once a year she sent her 
 maid to see if they were dry, and to say she was 
 
186 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 working it out. The second year Hurdy-Gurdy went 
 away, because he was a person who had a good deal 
 of decision of character. 
 
 " There ! " cried Eose, laughing. " It 's a little too 
 old for you." 
 
 " Well, of all the stuff ! " said Dick, 
 
 " I call it bully," said Jack. 
 
 "And whom did she marry?" cried Ned. "Never 
 any one ? " 
 
 " Never ! Like Rose Lyndsay. I am going to live 
 with you all my life at home, and never, never marry." 
 
 Upon this the twins intimated their satisfaction by 
 pulling Ned's back hair. He howled loudly. 
 
 " Seems to answer the beU," said Jack. 
 
 " Oh, stop that — it hurts ! " 
 
 " Look out there ! " cried the sternman. " You 11 
 upset the birch. There are too many of you, any- 
 ways." 
 
 Again Rose called them to order, and they were 
 silent a while. In the mean time she sat gazing up 
 the changing waterway. This home-coming, this 
 abrupt transition, this privilege of abandonment to 
 every light, innocent folly, even to enjoying the mad 
 fun of three clever boys, made for her an immense 
 change, and one which she felt to be both whole- 
 some and pleasant. In Europe she had come fully 
 to understand the sacrifice Anne had made in order 
 to be with her, and at last to see but too clearly that 
 Anne Lyndsay was failing. To none was this so 
 clear as to the sufferer; to none less clear than to 
 her brother. As to Margaret, she was by nature 
 conservative. The word hardly describes what I 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 187 
 
 mean. She had an inherent belief in the unchange- 
 ableness of things and people. The death of Harry- 
 had been the first calamity in a prosperous life. She 
 had so long seen Anne Lyndsay to her mind full of 
 levity that she found it impossible to accept the idea 
 that for this woman, who lowered her crest to no ad- 
 verse hour, the time could not be very far away 
 when she would cease to smUe at pain. 
 
 Miss Anne, of her own wiU, cut short by three 
 months their intended length of stay abroad. She 
 had seen how heavy was the burden of responsibility 
 which this fatal descent placed upon Rose. In fact, 
 to be alone with a woman like Anne was good only 
 if the younger person had intervals of other com- 
 panionship. Anne made a too strong call upon the 
 apprehending intellect to be as a constancy good for a 
 growing girl, and her matchless cynicism in talk, which 
 found no representation in her acts, was tempting as 
 an example and easily capable of misapprehension. 
 
 This long stay with Anne had been for Rose a 
 severe test of character and even of physical power. 
 "Without altogether realizing the true cause of her 
 rebound into unusual joyousness, she distinctly felt 
 the relief of her new surroundings. 
 
 " There is the brook. Rose," said Ned. " We '11 
 fish, and build a big fire, and cook our own fish." 
 
 They were now above the clearings, and on the far 
 side of the river. 
 
 " What canoe is that up the stream, near the far 
 shore 1 " she asked. 
 
 " It 's Mr. Carington's. He 's took a bit of water 
 'bove Mr. Lynd say's upper pool. It ain't much good." 
 
188 WHEN ALL. THE WOODS ABE GEEBN 
 
 " You are sure it is Mr. Carington 1 " 
 
 " I don't rightly know. It 's too far." 
 
 After this they went ashore on a broad beach, 
 through which a quick run of brown water from the 
 swamps inland found its way out to the main river. 
 
 Rose took a book and sat down, while the boys 
 cast for trout at the mouth of the brook. After a 
 while the twins tired of this and set to work to build 
 a fire on the higher rise of the shore, while Tom 
 cleaned the fish they had captured. By and by came 
 Ned and sat down with his sister. Now and then he 
 called her attention to a salmon, or, at intervals, 
 asked Rose questions not always easy of answer. At 
 last he said, " There is a spring back in the woods, — 
 comes out of the hollow of a big, old balm of Gilead. 
 I found it." 
 
 " Oh, we must go and see it after lunch. I know 
 few things I like better than a spring, — and out of 
 a tree." 
 
 " Yes ; must n't it be comfortable for the old tree?" 
 
 " Rather," she said, and fell silent. 
 
 It was now quiet and warm — no leaf astir — a 
 noonday dreaminess on wood and water. " That 
 canoe 's dropping down," Ned said. " Is it Mr. EUett 
 or Mr. Carington, Rose ? He does n't get any fish." 
 
 " I don't know. I was half asleep. How nice to be 
 where all the noises are sounds one likes ! " 
 
 " Do you hear the rapids, Rose ? I thought yester- 
 day they were exactly like children laughing — I mean 
 their noise." 
 
 "I said that very thing to Pardy, the night we 
 came up." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 189 
 
 " I guess when tlie Indians called a fall ' The 
 Laughing Water' they might have meant that." 
 
 "Perhaps, — or only that, in a way, it did sound 
 cheerful." 
 
 "I don't think the sea always makes pleasant 
 noises, Rosy." 
 
 " No," said Rose, abstractedly. She was watching 
 the canoe, as in successive drops it came toward them 
 around the curve. 
 
 " What set that great boulder on this beach, I won- 
 der ! " said Ned. " Ruf us he says, it 's what he calls 
 conglomerate, and that there is none near by," 
 
 " The ice, I suppose," said Rose. "Ask papa." 
 
 The rock was some eight feet high, rounded and 
 smooth, except toward the waterside, where it was 
 broken and splintered. 
 
 " Where are the men ? That fire is too large." 
 
 " They are in the wood after birch bark. I '11 see 
 to the fire." 
 
 " By Jove ! " he cried, and bounded to his feet. 
 " Look sharp. Rose ! " And, giving her a hand, he 
 helped her to rise. She looked about in dismay, for 
 this thing had happened : Jack had suddenly spied a 
 small bear cub, an awkward, black little bruin, 
 sprawling over the round stones at one end of the 
 beach, between him and the water. It was not much 
 bigger than a weU-grown kitten. He had it by one 
 hind leg in an instant, and was roaring with the fun 
 of his capture, the capture grunting dolorously. As 
 Ned spoke. Jack saw the troubled mother-bear come out 
 of the wood, and, a moment in doubt, hesitate among 
 the bushes. Ned dragged his sister toward the 
 
190 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GBEEN 
 
 water, as the bear, fiercely growling, began to move 
 toward them. As for Jack, he was away around the 
 boulder, and in an instant upon top, the young bear 
 giving him a smart nip, as he stood on the summit, 
 flushed, resolute, and laughing. 
 
 " Fling it down ! " cried Ned, with good sense. 
 But Jack was otherwise minded, hardly taking in 
 the peril for Rose and Ned. Dick had dashed into 
 the wood, calling wildly to the men. 
 
 " Let it go ! " cried Rose. Then there was a loud 
 cry from the river : 
 
 " Drop it, you fool ! " 
 
 "Not I!" cried Jack. "Run, Rose; he '11 go for 
 me. Run ! run ! " 
 
 As he spoke, the savage bruin reared herself up in 
 a vain effort to cUmb the smooth stone. Jack, on 
 the boulder, laughed, as he balanced himself with dif- 
 ficulty, owing to the struggles of the cub. Seeing 
 that to climb was impossible, the bear proceeded to 
 make a flank movement, which would have enabled 
 her to follow Jack up the back of the rock. The boy 
 was in no way alarmed. But now he saw that Rose 
 was in the path of the bear, and that Ned, white as 
 death, was standing between Rose and the enraged 
 mother, a canoe-pole in one hand, and the other mo- 
 tioning back at Rose, as he called to her to " Run ! 
 run ! " 
 
 Just as Jack, appalled at these unlooked-for con- 
 sequences, was about to part with his precious cap- 
 tive, a voice rang out again from the river : " Run ! 
 run ! Quick ! " 
 
 Ned cast a glance behind him, and, catching Rose's 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 191 
 
 hand, pulled at her so violently, as he threw the pole 
 aside, that she lost her balance and fell, striking 
 heavily on a corner of rock. Ned cast himself down 
 beside her. Instantly a rifle rang out from the river 
 behind them. As they lay, he heard the shrill 
 " ping " of a rifle-ball above him, and the bear rolled 
 dead on her side, clean shot through the head. 
 
 Jack leaped from the boulder, still holding on to the 
 cub, and made toward Rose, as the men and Dick 
 came out in haste from the wood onto the beach. 
 Carington sprang into the water before his canoe 
 touched the land, crying to Jack: 
 
 " Back there, you infernal young idiot ! " With his 
 rifle ready, he pushed the boy aside and advanced 
 cautiously but swiftly, until he saw that the beast 
 was dead. Next he turned to Rose, who lay motion- 
 less on the beach. As the group of faces, still wild 
 with scare or excitement, gathered around him, he 
 knelt, lifted the girl, and, seeing a thin thread of 
 blood leaping in little jets from her temple, he set 
 her head against his knee and put a finger on the 
 wound, saying : 
 
 " Get me water. It is not so bad. Good Lord ! 
 It might have been worse ! " 
 
 " Is she dead ? " said Ned. 
 
 "Dead? No, my boy — not she." 
 
 He wet his handkerchief and washed the blood off 
 her face, still keeping a finger above the cut on the 
 artery, as he gave directions to Tom to make a pad 
 from Ned's handkerchief. "With this and his own 
 tied tightly around her head, he was able easily to 
 check the bleeding. Meanwhile the rest stood still, 
 
192 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 recoguizing the competence of the improvised sur- 
 geon. 
 
 " That will do," he said, looking at her as he knelt, 
 and letting her head rest on a cushion from the canoe. 
 " I think she has only fainted." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Jack, " I was afraid — Be still, you 
 beast!" to the writhing cub. Carington gave him a 
 look, and again considered the fair, young face be- 
 neath his gaze, the blood on neck and dress, and the 
 red splashes on his own attire. 
 
 "That is better," he exclaimed, for Eose opened 
 her eyes, looked about, confused for a moment ; then 
 rallied her faculties, and said, feebly : 
 
 "What is it? Where am I? What has happened?" 
 
 " It is all right. You fell down." 
 
 " Oh, Fairfield ! Is that you? Where is Ned?" 
 
 "I'm here." 
 
 "And Jack?" 
 
 " Oh, I 'm all right ! And the bear 's dead." 
 
 " The bear ? Yes, I know now. Dead ? " 
 
 " Mr. Carington shot him," said Ned, 
 
 " Mr. Carington ? Where is he?" cried Rose, sitting 
 up, and still a little dazed. 
 
 "Keep quiet, boys," said the young man. "Back 
 a little. Take that cub away, sir. Can you stand. 
 Miss Lyndsay ? Here, take a little brandy from my 
 flask. The explanations can wait. Why, you are 
 quite strong. Now, then. Don't look at the bear; 
 come." And he supported her to the canoe, talking 
 as he went, to keep her from questioning. 
 
 "Now, then," — turning to Jack, — "you must wait 
 here, sir. You can go in Tom's boat with Miss Lynd- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 193 
 
 say " — this to Ned. " I will go ahead and explain at 
 the camp. Don't let Miss Lyndsay talk." 
 
 " But, Fail-field," said Rose, "I must—" 
 
 " You are better, I think. There, that will do," as 
 she was laid in the canoe. "If you talk, you will 
 start the bleeding. Not a word now." 
 
 This was a somewhat masterful person, and Rose, 
 as she lay back against the cushions, was satisfied to 
 shut her eyes and obey, weak, and still tingling with 
 past excitement. 
 
 "You shall know everything by and by, Miss 
 Lyndsay." 
 
 " Thanks ! " she murmured, and her canoe put off. 
 
 "I will overtake you," he said, and then walked 
 back and took a look at the bear, which Jack, now 
 reassured, was attentively regarding. 
 
 "A first-rate shot that was! " said the boy. 
 
 Carington made no reply. Then, glancing at the 
 bear: "Poor old mother!" he said. "A sucking 
 bear! I am sorry I had to kill you." 
 
 " You '11 send for me soon ? " said Jack. 
 
 Carington again failed to reply. 
 
 " Is n't there room in your boat ? " 
 
 "Not for you." He was very angry. Jack sat 
 down with his troublesome captive, feeling that he 
 had been sharply snubbed ; and the canoe fled away 
 in the track of Rose's boat. As he passed her, Car- 
 ington cried out : 
 
 "Are you all right?" 
 
 " Yes, thank you I " 
 
 "Well, don't talk." And his birch went by at 
 speed, he himself taking a third paddle to gain time. 
 
 13 
 
194 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 " By George ! My little comedy came near to a 
 tragic ending. How BUett will rate me! What a 
 mess!" And he considered a moment his bloody 
 knickerbockers and stained stockings. 
 
 "Your face is all over blood," said Michelle. " Best 
 wash, sir. Might scare 'em worse than a bear." 
 
 " That is so." Ceasing to paddle, he took the boat 
 sponge, and made a hasty toilet. 
 
 " Am I clean, Michelle ? " 
 
 "Well — pretty fair, sir. You are right well 
 painted. It was awful lucky you took a mind to try 
 for a shot at that other seal." 
 
 " Yes. Shove her along ! " He took the paddle 
 again, and fell to thinking, until they came to the 
 beach. There was no one in sight. He ran up the 
 steps, noticing that there was one canoe on the shore. 
 Then he paused, and, returning, called Tom. 
 
 " Go up and tell Mr. Lyndsay I want to see him." 
 
 Presently Mr. Lyndsay came down the steps. 
 
 " Mr. Carington ! " And he stayed a moment, sur- 
 prised at the appearance of the blood-stained man. 
 " What is it ? " he said. " Anything wrong ? " 
 
 " Miss Lyndsay has had a slight accident. She is 
 all right now. I came on ahead to tell you. It is 
 really — really not serious. They were scared by a 
 bear on the beach. I was lucky enough to kill it, 
 but, in trying to escape, your daughter fell and 
 struck her head, and — oh, it bled a bit. Oh, here is 
 the canoe." 
 
 Rose, freshened by the air and motion, got up, 
 laughing, and ran to her father. 
 
 " Rose, my dear ! Rose ! " he cried. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 195 
 
 "Where is mother? Does she know? It is n't 
 anything, Pardy." Then she looked at his compan- 
 ion, who presented a sufficiently soiled and untidy 
 appearance to still perplex her. 
 
 " Fairfield," she exclaimed, " where is — " 
 
 " I am Mr. Carington," he returned, smiling, and a 
 little embarrassed. Lyndsay looked on bewildered. 
 
 "But—" 
 
 " Never mind, Miss Lyndsay. I owe you an apol- 
 ogy for playing bowman for a half -day." 
 
 " Indeed ! " cried Rose, flushing, and, turning away, 
 went up the steps. She hesitated half-way, remem- 
 bering the bear, and then went on and entered the 
 house. 
 
 "One moment, Mr. Carington!" exclaimed her 
 father. " Wait for me." And he hurried after her. 
 In a few minutes the seared mother was made to un- 
 derstand the matter, and, reassured, busied herself in 
 seeing Rose safely to bed. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 RCHIBALD LYNDSAT went down 
 to the beach again, where Caring- 
 ton, not very happy, sat waiting on 
 the stern of his canoe. He rose as 
 his host came near. 
 
 " This way," said Lyndsay. " And 
 now" — as they walked to and fro on the upper 
 shingles — "may I ask you to let me understand it 
 all?" 
 
 Carington quietly related the scene on the shore, 
 omitting nothing. When he had ended, Lyndsay 
 said: 
 
 " I have probably to thank you for a life which is 
 very dear to me. I haVe no words in which to say 
 what I feel. We are very deep in your debt." 
 "Oh, any one would — " 
 
 "No — I understand. You are a little like myself, 
 I fancy. To have too much obliged another has its 
 embarrassments. I won't ask you now to let my wife 
 say her own thankfulness ; but come and breakfast 
 to-morrow, and bring Mr. EUett." 
 " With pleasure." 
 
 "By the way — and you will pardon me — what was 
 all that about Fairfield and a bowman ? " 
 " Simply, Mr. Lyndsay, that I am still, in my holi- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB GKEEN 197 
 
 day times, a bit of a foolish boy, and when Polycarp 
 came up for a man and could get none, I supposed 
 it was for you, and just as a frolic induced him to let 
 me play bowman. I had, of course, not the remotest 
 idea that it was for Miss Lyndsay. May I ask you to 
 accept for her my most humble apologies? " 
 
 "I see," said Lyndsay, laughing. " It has its amus- 
 ing side." 
 
 " Yes, but — "Well, it ceased to be amusing when 
 I realized the annoyance it might bring to Miss 
 Lyndsay." 
 
 " I dare say you wiU be able to make your peace," 
 said his host, as Carington took his hand. At the 
 boat, to which he walked with the elder man, he 
 paused : 
 
 " May I say a word to that boy of yours ? " 
 
 "To Ned? Yes, certainly." He called, "Ned! 
 Halloa! Come here!" for the lad had gone up to 
 the cabin with Rose. 
 
 " Coming," cried Ned, from the porch, where, with 
 Anne, he was trying to make a good case for Jack. 
 
 Meanwhile, as Lyndsay was ordering a boat up to 
 Jack, Ned came down to the strand. 
 
 " Mr. Carington wished to see you," said Lyndsay. 
 "Good-by, and breakfast at half -past eight to-mor- 
 row " ; and so, with ready tact, he went up the cliff, 
 leaving Ned with Carington. 
 
 "I wanted to see you a moment, Ned, while the 
 matter is fresh. I want to say that I saw the whole 
 affair on the shore. I was but thirty yards away. 
 Perhaps you won't think it a liberty, my lad, if I say 
 you behaved admirably, and kept your wits, too. 
 
198 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 You showed both good sense and courage." He spoke 
 as if he were addressing an equal. 
 
 Ned flushed with pleasure. " Oh, thank you ! " 
 
 " That 's all. I think you and I shall be friends 
 after this. You must come up and see me ; we might 
 kill a salmon. Good-by." And he pushed off. 
 
 Ned stood a moment, in his thoughtful way, and 
 then went back up the steps to Miss Anne, who was 
 now at ease as to Kose, and well pleased with her 
 dearest nephew. 
 
 " What was it ? " she inquired. 
 
 "Oh, not much — nothing." 
 
 "I think I know." 
 
 "No!" 
 
 " Yes ; he wanted to say you had behaved well." 
 
 " Oh, bother, Aunt Aane ! What 's the use of your 
 asking, if you know? You always do know." 
 
 Then Ned went away, and Archibald Lyndsay came 
 out and strode uneasily up and down the porch. 
 
 " Archie," said Anne. " Brother." 
 
 "Well, what is it?" 
 
 " Are you troubled ? " 
 
 "Yes, of course. How should I be other than 
 troubled?" 
 
 "But why?" 
 
 "Why? Jack has behaved like a selfish, thought- 
 less — " 
 
 " No ; he is not at bottom selfish. Thoughtless — 
 yes; and he has the vices of his virtues. He is so 
 bold, and so resolute in action — so enjoys the peril he 
 creates. Can't you see what such a character wants ? 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 199 
 
 You may rest assured, my dear Archie, that he is 
 quite enough punished." 
 
 " He is incidentally punished." 
 
 " But—" 
 
 "I don't want to hear any more, Anne. He has 
 behaved like a blackguard." 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Confound the women ! " he said, and walked 
 away ; but in an hour was at the shore to meet Jack, 
 who landed a little dismayed, his grunting cub still 
 expostulating in the only language known to juve- 
 nile bears. 
 
 " "Well, sir ! I have heard this agreeable story I " 
 
 "But, father— " 
 
 " I should think you might be fatigued ! " 
 
 Now, a good kicking would have been preferred 
 by any of these boys to the father's sarcasm. 
 
 "Go up to the house, undress, and go to bed. I 
 don't want to see you for a day. No words, sir, or I 
 shall lose my temper. Off with you — you are not 
 fit to associate with gentlemen." 
 
 "Without a word more, Jack went up the steps and 
 did as he was told; in consequence of which Mar- 
 garet wept a little, and Anne, who thought on the 
 whole that Jack had gotten off better than she ex- 
 pected, betook herself to her books, with a full de- 
 termination to have it out with the boy in her own 
 way, and at a later date. 
 
 It was well into the afternoon when Carington 
 reached his camp, and found Ellett still away on 
 the river. 
 
200 WHEN AliL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 " I shall catch it ! " said Fred, with a grin at the 
 prospect. He made use of the interval to change his 
 clothes and get rid of the stained garments, after 
 which he ordered a smudge, pulled open the tent- 
 flaps, and cast himself on the camp mattress, for the 
 first time realizing that he was tired, or, at least, had 
 that sense of languor which follows upon intense ex- 
 citement. The tent-fly was up — the triangular space 
 thus open to view framed prettily the beach, the men 
 and canoes, the river, and the hUls beyond. The 
 smoke of the cedar-smudge at times dimmed the pic- 
 ture. At last, being absolutely comfortable, the cush- 
 ions just right, the midge and black fly routed, he 
 carefully filled and lit his pipe, reflecting, as he did 
 so, on the varied value of tobacco, which he had 
 never misused. Next he sought in one pocket after 
 another, until he came upon a worn note-book. 
 Among its scraps of verse and memoranda he found 
 the well-known apostrophe of El Din Attar to the 
 pipe. He read it with a smile. 
 
 " ' wife of the soul, thou art wiser than any who 
 bide in the harem. A maker of peace thou art and a 
 builder of prudence between temptation and the hour 
 of decision. Can anger abide with the pipe, or a 
 gnat in the smoke of the tent-fire ? Lo, wine is but 
 wine for the simple, and a pipe but a pipe for the 
 foolish ; and what is a song to the dumb, or a rose 
 to the eye that is blind ? A bud of the rose findeth 
 June on the breast of the dark-eyed ; a song must be 
 sung by the heart of the hearer. And thus are the 
 pipe and the smoker. Also of it the king hath no 
 more joy than the beggar, saith El Din Attar.' 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 201 
 
 " A pipe is a pipe, and a rose is a rose, be it prim or 
 not," said the happy young fellow, laughing. " There 
 is no new wisdom. To think what "Wordsworth 
 would have said to that? If Hamlet could have 
 played upon this pipe, would he have been nicer to 
 Ophelia?" His own meerschaum had been a friendty 
 counselor at times. " Gracious ! " he laughed outright 
 — a good sign of a man that he can soliloquize 
 laughter — " if I should fall in love, and the woman 
 hate tobacco ! " He let his fancy wander, and began 
 to reflect, lazily, and yet with some curiosity, on the 
 person he had saved from a serious, if not fatal, 
 calamity. " I got out of that comedy pretty well," he 
 said to himself. " But, by George ! it is rather more 
 awkward to put a person — a woman — under such 
 an obligation as this. How I should hate it ! I won- 
 der, does she? I suppose she won't be at breakfast. 
 That, at least, is a comfort." Then he reflected that, 
 with people such as these, he would not be too ab- 
 surdly overwhelmed with gratitude. At last he 
 turned to a book, fully satisfied that, on the whole, 
 he had the best of it, and that there was no need to 
 growl at Pate. 
 
 In a minute or two he exclaimed, " In-door poetry, 
 that " ; and dropped the volume of too dainty verse. 
 The substance beneath was not worth the polish on 
 top. He was not in a book mood, or disposed to 
 anchor. The hours slipped by without freight of 
 urgent question or answer. He was in a dreamy 
 state, and, liking the hazy indistinctness of its de- 
 mands, invented for his use, with a smile of approval, 
 the word, " Vaguearies." 
 
202 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 Smiling, he made note of this verbal find, as EUett 
 came up the beach. 
 
 "What pleases you, Fred? And what is all this 
 row the men are talking about?" 
 
 " One at a time. I was hoping that the woman I 
 shaU love will take generously to my pipe." 
 
 " She will be a fool if she don't. I always advise the 
 women never to marry a man who does n't smoke. You 
 see, if they fall out a bit, she can always say, ' Well, 
 just take a cigar, Fred, and think it over.' I am sure 
 the proportion of divorces must be smaller among the 
 couples that include a smoker. Good notion, that ! " 
 
 " It is on the heights of wisdom ! " 
 
 " Is n't it ? And you have n't been fishing ? " 
 
 "Yes; I did fish, but I got no fish. I caught a 
 mild little adventure." 
 
 "Michelle began to tell me — " 
 
 "Michelle be hanged! These guides are always 
 dramatic ! " 
 
 " Well, and what was it happened ? Tell me." 
 
 " Talk to you about that by and by." He was in- 
 disposed to have too much made of the incidents of 
 the morning. Why, he could hardly have explained. 
 He did not want Miss Lyndsay discussed. Perhaps 
 this was what the doctors call a prodrome — of a mal- 
 ady known to man and maid. Love may, Kke other 
 forces in life, assume many forms before it unmasks 
 and we know it as love. The correlation of forces 
 obtains in the world of the emotions as well as in 
 that of matter. 
 
 "How confoundedly queer you are sometimes, 
 Fred ! I can wait, I suppose ; but I don't see why." 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GKEEN 203 
 
 "Oh, because my mind is an absolute vacuum. 
 That is a rather interesting thought, Oliver, quite 
 worthy of Boston ! Fancy an entire mental vacuum ! 
 Is it any more possible than a physical one ? Don't 
 you think there may be a zero of thought, as of 
 cold — or of heat, I should say?" 
 
 " Nonsense ! " cried EUett. 
 
 " Want to know ? Do you ? "Well, I was seriously 
 thinking that when we can get photographs in colors, 
 it win be a delightful thing to collect sunsets." 
 
 " I don't care a continental malediction for sunsets, 
 or thought-zeroes, either. What 's the matter with 
 you? Michelle says you shot a bear, or a young wo- 
 man — I am not sure which. He was a little mixed 
 about it. But why you should — " 
 
 "I was only chafi&ng you, old man." He was 
 really, and like a child, putting off an inevitable an- 
 noyance. He knew he must talk of it all to his 
 friend, and felt himself ridiculously unwilling either 
 to make it seem grave or to treat it as a matter for 
 jesting comment. Not to understand the cause of 
 your own states of indecision is, for the habitually 
 decisive, most unpleasant, and yet silence may make 
 a thing seem important which is not. 
 
 " What happened, Oliver, was this." And he quietly 
 narrated the incidents of the morning. 
 
 " I congratulate you, Fred." 
 
 "And why?" 
 
 " Well, if you are idiot enough to ask that in sober 
 earnest, I am not fool enough to reply in kind. And 
 so Miss Lyndsay knows who her bowman was ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
204 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 " Did she like it ?" 
 
 " How tlie deuce do I know ? " 
 
 "But I should think you could tell. I hope that 
 girl lost her temper. Girls who can't lose their tem- 
 pers can't lose their hearts. That 's pretty good, 
 Fred!" 
 
 "Nonsense! "Who wants her to lose her heart? 
 Tou can judge for yourself, if you are curious — we 
 are to breakfast with them to-morrow. Get any fish ? " 
 
 "One — only ten pounds. The new run is up, 
 Pierre says. Saw plenty of small fish leaping. But 
 about these Lyndsays ? " 
 
 " Let 's have supper. Hang the Lyndsays ! " 
 
 " Both, with all my heart ; and I will also suspend 
 my opinions, if it suits you better. Was n't bad, 
 that ! " And then, as Fred walked away to stir up 
 the cook, Bllett muttered, " What the mischief 's gone 
 wrong with the man ? " And so, being a kindly fel- 
 low and considerate, as far as he knew how to evolve 
 in action this form of social wisdom, he dropped the 
 subject for the evening, and, as Miss Anne used to 
 say, "left time to puU the chestnuts out of the fire, 
 when they were cool enough to be useful as diet." 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 |ARINGTON had slept off his brief 
 ill-humor, and the friends were in a 
 happier mood as they flitted down- 
 stream next day to breakfast with 
 the Lyndsays. 
 At the Cliff Camp things were 
 not so entirely joyful. Mrs. Lyndsay, after a talk 
 about the simple biU of fare with the black cook they 
 had brought with them, paid a furtive visit to Jack, 
 who was condemned to such tranquillity as was pos- 
 sible, even in bed, for a human machine as restless. 
 She administered a tender scolding, and left him with 
 a book or two. Next she softly opened Rose's door, 
 and, finding her comfortable and smiling, said, "No, 
 dear, you are to keep stiU to-day," and left her to 
 reflect that, on the whole, she was as well satisfied 
 not to meet the "two single gentlemen rolled into 
 one " before the entire family. However clearly the 
 matter had been explained, there remained, and she 
 colored as she thought of it, the remembrance of cer- 
 tain things she had said to her bowman. Nor was 
 it quite pleasing to imagine herself discussed by these 
 two strangers over their evening meal. The scene in 
 the boat — " She would like to have him always as 
 her bowman ! " The scene on the beach ! And then the 
 
206 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 obligation ! The debt to an unknown man ! In what 
 currency should such debts be paid? She smiled, as 
 she quoted to herself : 
 
 What need 
 Good turns be counted as a servile bond 
 To bind their doers to receive their meed f 
 
 Then, having no other more consoling thought on 
 hand, she began to recall how the novelists had dealt 
 with these situations. A man saves your life! What 
 then ? As far as she remembered, it always ended in 
 the woman giving the man what he saved — a life ! — 
 her life ! She would have liked to have certain books 
 to see precisely what they did say, or Aunt Anne, 
 who was herself and generally all books beside. As 
 she played with these questions, a little amused or a 
 trifle annoyed, Miss Anne knocked, and was welcomed. 
 
 " Aunt Anne," she cried merrily, " what would you 
 do for a man who saves you from a horrible mauling 
 by a bear, or possibly from death ? " 
 
 " The novelists marry them. That cancels the debt, 
 or makes the woman in the end regret the man's skill 
 and strength." 
 
 "Aunty, that is very cheap cynicism for you, and 
 at eight A. M. ! What wiU you be at dinner ? " 
 
 " I repent, dear. I hate the sneer — easy and ob- 
 vious. I am always penitent over verbal wicked- 
 nesses that are mere children of habit, and have no 
 wit to excuse them. Is the question, dear, worth 
 considering ? " 
 
 "Oh, but seriously — " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 207 
 
 "I mean seriously. Would it not depend on the 
 moral make of tlie people concerned 1 Clearly, when 
 those involved are of one world, likely to meet, — to 
 have continuous relations of some sort, — it must lead 
 to close friendship when the debt of life is merely 
 between man and man." 
 
 "Yes; but when a woman owes an unknown per- 
 son — a man in her own class — an obligation like 
 this? She must feel it — really feel it, as I do." 
 
 " My dear, you are a little absurd. Many debts re- 
 main unpaid, and should so remain. How do you pay 
 your debts to Shakspere? And, after all, this is a 
 small affair — Mr. Carington was in no peril." 
 
 " No, it was n't that. The thing involved courage 
 and decision. Papa has told me aU of it — aU. And 
 the ball went only a couple of feet over dear Ned 
 and myself. Any one but a brave and positive man 
 would have hesitated — and, just a moment more! 
 It is dreadful to think of it! Dreadful!" 
 
 "Your gratitude is quite too analytical for me, 
 dear." 
 
 " But do you believe, aunty, with mama, that there 
 cannot be true, simple friendships between man and 
 woman ? " 
 
 " Man and woman 1 A large question." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Certainly, I believe there can be — more likely, 
 more easy, more possible with us than in Europe. I 
 know of many such, where what was in youth a friend- 
 ship, limited by conventions, became, as years went 
 on, a larger, deeper, more valuable relation, and yet 
 only and always a friendship." 
 
208 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "Thank you!" 
 
 "I think myself that when women — married wo- 
 men — grow wise, they will want their husbands to 
 have women friends. Margaret would say, 'That is 
 an old maid's opinion.' Nevertheless, it is mine, and, 
 as I have chosen never to marry, it is valuable. The 
 old maid is a sort of neutral, with the wisdom of 
 both sexes." 
 
 "I should like to choose my husband's female 
 friends." 
 
 " Should you ? I have not talked it out yet, but 
 now I must go. I want to see how your creditor 
 behaves. He may be a true Shylock and want — 
 how many pounds do you weigh, dear?" 
 
 " You are horrid, aunty ! I certainly do not think 
 you have settled my questions." 
 
 "How can I? or you? or he, for that matter? 
 Time, dear, not only answers letters, but also doubts 
 and difficulties. As a consulting physician, I am 
 told, he is unsurpassed. Ton are, naturally, in a 
 state of unease to-day, and had better wait until you 
 see what kind of a draft on the bank of gratitude 
 you are called on to pay, or honor, if you like the 
 word better. I don't know whether, nowadays, com- 
 mercial men use the word, or the thing. You might 
 send him a silver pitcher, the inscription to be, ' To 
 my preserver, from the preserved,' or else — " 
 
 " Go away, bad aunty ! " cried Rose, laughing. 
 Once alone, she began upon her coffee and roUs, and 
 wished it was next month, and thus, like Carington, 
 turned over her hot chestnuts to pussy-cat time. 
 They were too hot for her. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 209 
 
 Miss Anne went out on the porch, and began watch- 
 ing, with the interest she took in almost all earthly 
 pursuits, Ned's efforts to tie a salmon-fly, while Dick, 
 beside him, was feeding the drosera's hairy leaves 
 with minute black gnats, and considering, through a 
 lens, the ferocious certainty with which the vegetable 
 monster closed upon the captives cast among its sen- 
 sitive limbs. Presently Dick said to her : 
 
 " Aunt Anne, is father very angry with Jack ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I 'm sorry, because — because he reaUy did n't have 
 time to think — and it was n't cowardly." 
 
 "No, it was n't that." 
 
 " But I ran away." He had a vague feeling that to 
 prove himself to have gone amiss would be to lessen 
 the enormity of Jack's conduct. 
 
 " You went into the wood to call the men, and were 
 the first back on the beach, my Prince Rosy-locks. 
 You are a first-rate liar ; but, as you are a Lyndsay, 
 you are not a coward, and you had better kick your- 
 self well for insulting Dick Lyndsay ! 
 
 I may not turn, I may not flee, 
 
 Though many be the spears ; 
 I should not face with better grace 
 
 The army of my fears. 
 
 I do not blame Jacky as much as your father does. 
 I understand him, I think." 
 
 " He feels awfuUy, Aunt Anne." 
 
 "That will do no harm, Dick." The boy turned 
 again to the drosera and his lens. 
 
210 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 
 
 Anne was herself so entirely brave that not even 
 the prospect of the coming of added pain had ever 
 been able to make her timid. AH forms of courage 
 were to her intelligibly beautiful, knowing as she did 
 that if its mere instinctive form be meaningless, it is, 
 in its higher developments, the knightly defense of all 
 the virtues. She puUed Dick's ear, playfully, and said, 
 finally: 
 
 " Jack will be out at noon. The less you say about 
 it, the better." 
 
 "I guess so," remarked Dick. 
 
 "Ah, here comes Mr. Carington. Now, boys, be- 
 have yourselves at breakfast. No nonsense, mind! 
 This is to be a very pretty-behaved family ; we wUl 
 make up for it at lunch." 
 
 The two gentlemen were in turn presented. There 
 were the ordinary greetings, and no word of allusion 
 to the day before, except that Mrs. Lyndsay, in a 
 quiet aside, said to Carington: 
 
 " I shall not be quite comfortable until I say how 
 much I thank you — for all of us — all." 
 
 " That is more than enough," he returned. " How 
 is Miss Lyndsay 1 " 
 
 " "Wonderfully well ! " And presently they went in 
 to breakfast. 
 
 "Here by me, please, Mr. Carington. Anne, sit 
 next to Mr. Carington. This seat, Mr. EUett — on 
 the left." 
 
 The boys, a little subdued, contented themselves 
 with quiet inspection of the new guests, and the talk 
 slipped readily, in skilful hands, from the subjects of 
 fish and the weather, and flies and rods, to other less 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEBN 211 
 
 trivial matters. Anne was unusually silent. She was 
 studying the unconscious Carington, who soon noted 
 the absence of Jack, and as quickly understood its 
 meaning. 
 
 " Yes," said Lyndsay, " these Gaspe men are most 
 interesting. They are clever, competent, and inher- 
 ently kindly, really good fellows ; but their trouble 
 is, and it does not trouble them, that they have no 
 persistent energy. I confess that, being myself, at 
 least while here, without energy, I like its absence." 
 
 " Is n't it a vast relief, after the endless restlessness 
 of our people," said Anne, " to fall among folks who are 
 contented, and home-loving, and so uncomplicated ? " 
 
 " I certainly think so," said Carington. "And what 
 a surprise it is to meet the stray descendants of loy- 
 alists hereabouts and on the ' St. John's ' — I ought to 
 say the 'Aroostook,' there are so many ' St. John's.' 
 Some of the best of the Canadians are descendants of 
 those people ; but, for the most part, those who settled 
 in certain quarters of Lower Canada are down again 
 to the level of mere laborers or fishermen." 
 
 "And no better off," said EUett. " I mean no more 
 energetic than — well, than I am. I hate the very 
 word energy. I quite share your opinions, Miss 
 Lyndsay. There is a nice little conundrum about 
 that word — sounds better in French. But, pardon 
 me, I never repeat conundrums, or make puns." 
 
 " I am so sorry. Are you past persuasion 1 " 
 
 " Entirely." 
 
 " Even as a personal confidence ? " 
 
 "That is another matter. It will keep. I think, 
 Mr. Lyndsay, you were about to say — " 
 
212 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 " I forget. But no matter. One may talk about, and 
 about things, at breakfast especially. It is pleasant 
 to feel that you may kick — that any one concerned 
 may kick — the foot-ball of talk without reference to 
 a goal." 
 
 "I don't think my friend Carington would agree 
 to that," said BUett. " He likes talk to be well feath- 
 ered, and go straight home — " 
 
 "And I like it," cried Anne, " to be well feathered, 
 and go zigzag home, or not, like a bird." 
 
 "And, for my part, aside from Ellett's calumnious 
 nonsense," laughed Carington, " I have no social 
 creed as to good talk. If it bears sharp analysis, it 
 is probably poor talk." 
 
 " But," said Anne, " there are some essentials. One 
 must reverse the great maxim that it is more blessed 
 to give than to receive." 
 
 Mrs. Lyndsay regarded the maiden lady with a look 
 of reprobation, in which were trial, judgment, and 
 execution. She reserved her verbal attack for a bet- 
 ter occasion, while Anne, unconscious of offense, went 
 on, "Was n't it Mr. Lowell, Archie, who said at our 
 table, when you questioned him as to the best talkers 
 he had met, ' Oh, the best are those who meet you ' ? 
 I thought that delicately put." 
 
 "But then he added," said Lyndsay, "when you 
 mentioned G. M. as on the whole the most remark- 
 able of dinner talkers, that he had not the essential 
 conversational art of punctuation. That his sen- 
 tences were like those of Judge Jeffries, eternal 
 How one spoils such a thing in the telling ! We all 
 smiled at it a little. Our friend himself liked an 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 213 
 
 audience, and to have, at times, the royal freedom of 
 unbroken talk. North, a friend of ours, Mr. Caring- 
 ton, has a theory that breakfast talks are the best." 
 
 " I should think so," said EUett, and then began to 
 think he had been rather critical, and added, "I 
 mean — well, I usually breakfast alone, and a feUow 
 can't talk to himself." 
 
 " This fellow can," cried Anne. 
 
 " He meant," said Lyndsay, " that breakfast talk is 
 apt to be general and gay; but that at dinner you 
 have the cares of the day on your back. It takes a 
 little effort, or a little champagne, to get up steam." 
 
 " But I have no cares," said BUett. 
 
 " Then," cried Miss Lyndsay, " we wOl all dine with 
 you, and you shaU do all the talking." 
 
 "That would suit my sister admirably," laughed 
 her brother. " Did you ever notice how sUent many 
 of these woodmen are ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Carington, " that is true. The wood- 
 land life has the same effect upon me." 
 
 "That's curious," remarked Miss Lyndsay. "Cer- 
 tain people blast me with utter dumbness. It might 
 be useful if it were kept up long enough to form a 
 habit. I mention that to anticipate my brother. One 
 does sometimes say what one does n't want to say — 
 but, oh, I do think one much more often wants dread- 
 fully to say what one had better not say." 
 
 "I think that is true," said Mrs. Lyndsay, with 
 reminiscent gravity. 
 
 " Which ? or both ? " said Anne, in an aside. 
 
 " By the way," said Lyndsay, " talking of these un- 
 lucky relics of the royalists, and, in fact, of too many 
 
214 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 on these coasts, the most energetic of us would suc- 
 cumb to their environment." 
 
 "Yes; there is that poor devU, Colkett," said 
 Carington, "a good hunter, a hard worker — I am 
 told, a first-rate lumberman — and yet always in 
 want." 
 
 " To judge from my daughter's account," said Mrs. 
 Lyndsay, " the wife is his dif&eulty." 
 
 By this time the boys were at ease. 
 
 "What is an 'environment,' Aunt Anne?" said 
 Ned. "Is a wife an environment?" 
 
 Ellett laughed. "Sometimes she is." 
 
 "Environments are surroundings — a man's sur- 
 roundings." She always answered the boys seriously. 
 
 "But does a wife surround a man?" urged Ned, 
 oblivious of his place as a boy among elders in his 
 keen pursuit of a meaning. 
 
 " I should think so ! " said Carington. " "Wait till 
 your turn comes! You will see!" 
 
 " I am quite sure Dorothy Maybrook is a fair illus- 
 tration," said Anne. "It is a good sermon on the 
 conduct of the matrimonial life to see that woman 
 what she calls 'p'int' poor old Hiram." 
 
 "An interesting person," returned Carington. 
 "Don't you think so?" 
 
 "It hurts a fellow to see a woman as placid as 
 that," remarked Ellett. "Whereupon Miss Anne ad- 
 justed her glasses, and took a look at the small, ro- 
 tund man. 
 
 " Why 1 " she said. " "Why does it hurt you ? " 
 
 He hesitated a trifle, and then replied, "Well, it 
 sort of knocks all the excuses out of a fellow's life." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 215 
 
 " Certainly," laughed Anne. " She does n't pet her 
 moods," and she concluded that there was something 
 in the ruddy gentleman, who looked so pleased at 
 what he had said. 
 
 " I have known her under many circumstances," said 
 Mrs. Lyndsay, " and I doubt if she has any moods." 
 
 " I rather suspect," said Lyndsay, " that Mrs. May- 
 brook's equality of temper is partly natural, and 
 partly a singularly intelligent acquired capacity to 
 make the best of her surroundings." 
 
 "Environment," said Ned, under his breath, and 
 now satisfied. 
 
 " EeaUy, Rose knows more about her than even my 
 wife, who has known her longer; but Rose has a 
 curious way of getting at people, and I have seldom 
 seen Rose so carried away by any one." 
 
 " I envy people the power of understanding people 
 on short acquaintance. I like everybody at first, 
 and then, by and by, I have to change my mind. 
 Now, Carington — " 
 
 " Nonsense ! " cried his friend. 
 
 " Indeed ! " exclaimed Anne. She thought Mr. BUett 
 oddly frank. 
 
 " From all I can hear," said Carington, " Mrs. May- 
 brook must be a kind of female Marcus AureUus." 
 This was quite too much for the boys, who began to 
 laugh ; and then, as Lyndsay and his wife followed 
 their example. Miss Anne felt obliged to explain, in 
 her amusing way, why this remark had so unaccount- 
 ably disturbed the nerves of the household. Lynd- 
 say defended himseK with seriousness. As they rose 
 to have their cigars outside, Ned said : 
 
216 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 " We are going up to the beach, father. Rose lost 
 a pin there. May we take lunch, mama 1 There is 
 plenty of brass knocker from breakfast." 
 
 " Pardon me/' said Carington, " my dear fellow ; 
 but what on earth is 'brass knocker'?" 
 
 Lyndsay laughed. "That is a famUy bit of my 
 Scotch education. The lowland Scotchman calls the 
 relics of a meal the 'brass knocker,' because once, I sup- 
 pose, the poor relations, who came to get the remains 
 of a feast, were expected to knock, and not to ring." 
 
 "How curious. Yes, thank you, I will smoke. 
 Mrs. Lyndsay?" 
 
 " Oh, my women are angelic about that ! " 
 
 " Indeed, if we were fallen angels," said Anne, " we 
 could hardly be more used to it." Then she said, " I 
 hope we may see you and Mr. Ellett often. I must 
 go and tell Rose what a pleasant chat we have had." 
 
 As she turned, she swayed a little, so as to touch 
 Mr. Carington. " Pardon me," she said, " I am not 
 over-strong, and it now and then makes me awk- 
 ward." She was really in extreme pain. " Good-by." 
 
 He stepped aside to let her pass, struck, as she 
 moved away, with her pallor. It was a sign of un- 
 usual liking in this woman when she permitted her- 
 self the least allusion to her own feebleness. 
 
 Carington was ia the gayest of moods as thgir 
 canoe went up the river. 
 
 " He has very good cigars," remarked Ellett. 
 
 " Admirable ! And the air up here, I have noticed, 
 keeps them in flrst-rate condition. Cigars are a good 
 deal Kke people, Oliver — they are unaccountably 
 changeable. Ever notice that?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 217 
 
 " Yes ; but a pipe is an unchanging friend. Cigars 
 are like women. That 's a good idea ! " 
 
 " Bother your ideas ! What interesting people ! It 
 seemed to me a wholesome atmosphere — strong and 
 true and honest. Master Jack did not appear. I 
 suppose he was in disgrace." 
 
 "Very hkely." 
 
 " That boy Ned is a quaint little fellow." 
 
 "We only wanted the sister and that scamp to 
 make up the entire family." 
 
 "I am not so sure about the scamp — the black 
 sheep ; I fancy he is hardly more than brown. I was 
 rather hard on him ; but I was angry enough to have 
 thrashed him, and yet I could n't help liking his 
 pluck." 
 
 " It was rather out of place, Fred." 
 
 " Yes. To know when to fear, and what to fear, is 
 wisdom." 
 
 " I think you have it to-day, Fred. You are afraid 
 of that girl." 
 
 " Upon my word, you do have at times the most re- 
 markable flashes of intelligence. You are right." 
 
 " But why 1 The awkwardness of the affair seems 
 to me to lie on the lady's side." 
 
 "I wish it were not. She is young, and — well, 
 rather pretty, and of course she will be efEusive, and 
 enthuse, and then there will be a few tears, and I shall 
 feel like a fool ! " 
 
 " It 's a great thing, Fred, to have no imagination. 
 Now, it would n't trouble me in the least. She will 
 just say, ' I am so much obliged, Mr. Carington,' and 
 you wiU say, ' Oh, it reaUy does n't matter. Miss Lynd- 
 
218 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 say.' People don't go splashing their emotions about 
 like a wet dog shaking off the water on everybody. 
 Good notion, that ! " 
 
 " You are a social and consolatory Solomon. Give 
 me your tobacco. I shaU. go back to-morrow and 
 have it over. Will you fish the upper pool this 
 afternoon ? " 
 
 "Either." 
 
 "Hang your politeness, Oliver. There is nothing 
 gives as much trouble as ' either.' It ought to be 
 kicked out of society." 
 
 " Then the lower pool." 
 
 "Good!" 
 
 There was a little interchange of views at the Cliff 
 Camp as to their guests; a certain pleasantness of 
 relief at finding Carington one who could confer an 
 immense obligation and appear totally to ignore it. 
 Perhaps, of aU of them, Anne the best appreciated 
 this; for she understood, as did neither her brother 
 nor his simple and direct wife, that Rose felt and 
 must deeply feel a sense of indebtedness, and the 
 difficulty of at once putting herself into the right 
 relations with the man who had, without peril to him- 
 self, left on her a debt which could never be canceled. 
 It was easy to say about it to Rose too much or too 
 little; but, with her usual clearness of head as to 
 matters of conduct, Miss Lyndsay now held her 
 tongue, nor did Rose tempt her to speak further. 
 
 As to Jack, he came out of his room at one, adding 
 an hour out of pure dislike to hsLving any one think 
 he cared. Anne spoke to him, as he passed her, a 
 mere " How are you, Jack ? " but he merely answered, 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 219 
 
 "Good morning, Aunt Anne," and went at once to 
 the barrel in which he had left his cub. It was 
 gone; but whither he never knew. Then he came 
 in to get his rifle, a gift from Anne on his last and 
 fifteenth birthday. That, too, was gone. Upon this 
 he got a crust of bread, and betook himself to the 
 woods, where the black flies were more active than 
 his conscience. At last he climbed a high dead pine, 
 and sat in the wind, and saw, far away on the river, 
 his father's canoe. He felt that he had been ill-used, 
 and then, remembering Rose on the beach, with the 
 blood about her, had an hour or so of a boy's un- 
 happiness. Toward evening he found a woodchuck's 
 burrow, which he resolved to dig out; and, some- 
 what comforted, at last wandered back to the cabia, 
 all other emotions having given way before the over- 
 whelming hunger to which, in his wrath, he had need- 
 lessly condemned himself. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 HE fishing had been fortunate in the 
 Cliff Camp waters, and now, some- 
 what later than usual, dinner being 
 over, the whole family, save Anne, 
 was collected in the large central 
 room of the cabin. The fli-eplace 
 was of a size to hold logs five feet in length, and was 
 built of rough, unhewn, gray rock. As the evening 
 was cold, a great pUe of birch-wood filled the wide 
 chimney-thi'oat with ruddy flame, and the lamp 
 which hung overhead and the candles on the table 
 were scarcely needed to light the room. Here and 
 there were books. In the corner stood a rod or two 
 in their cases ; on the racks a rifle and shot-gun. 
 
 Lyndsay was busy with his salmon-flies, and was 
 carefully inspecting the multitude of feathered lures 
 which every one collects and no one uses. On a 
 cushion, upon the floor, sat Rose, in the ripest glow 
 of the red birch flame. She was all in virginal white, 
 and with this innocence of color the fire was playing 
 pretty tricks, flushing the white sweep of the skirt 
 with rose, or playing hide-and-seek with flitting shad- 
 ows, as they hid among the folds, and were chased 
 hither and thither when the long jets of flame spurted 
 out at the ends of the logs. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 221 
 
 Jack being still in some disgrace, our Rose must 
 have his head in her lap, the lad's sturdy figure 
 stretched out on the floor. Beside him, Ned sat 
 cross-legged, like a Turk, and stared into the fire. 
 Dick, at a side-table, with a candle to himself, was 
 far away in another world, watching a wild mena- 
 gerie of rotifers spinning around on the field of his 
 microscope. 
 
 They were quiet, aU of them, in the company of 
 their thoughts. At the table, Mrs. Lyndsay was deep 
 in "Belinda." She dearly loved those pleasant books, 
 still worth the reading, and often gay with very de- 
 lightful chat. Now and then she read a bit aloud to 
 her husband. She cared little for the great books, 
 and liked best the level lowlands of literature. 
 When Anne was lost in book-land, and it took two 
 or three questions to call her back to consciousness 
 of her kind, Margaret found it impossible to compre- 
 hend her absorption. Anne had once said to her, 
 " There are books which carry one away to the moun- 
 tain-peaks, and will not let one go without a ransom." 
 Then Margaret had smiled, and replied, with the 
 nearest approach to sarcasm of which she was capa- 
 ble, that it was well there were some people left 
 down below to order the dinners and see to the ser- 
 vants. 
 
 In the cool air without, and well wrapped up, 
 Anne Lyndsay swung gently in her hammock be- 
 neath the porch. It was weU understood among 
 these people, who so deeply loved her, that at times 
 she liked to be alone, and then was to be left to her- 
 self. She had struggled for this freedom from kindly 
 
222 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GBEEN 
 
 intrusion, and years ago had won it, but not mthout 
 some contest with Margaret, who was quite unable to 
 see why any one could want to be solitary. Anne 
 would say, " I am never alone, my dear," and was of 
 opinion that the hardest thing to get in a large fam- 
 ily were these sacred hours of privacy. Too many 
 women know that. 
 
 She was just now absolutely free from pain, and in 
 unrestrained enjoyment of the cool, dry air of the 
 Canadian river, which ran below, and sent up at un- 
 accountable intervals strange noises as she listened. 
 Now it was a low, booming, bass note, and now min- 
 gled sounds, as of cries, and distant chuckle of sup- 
 pressed mirth, where, above and below, the voyaging 
 waters hopped merrily over their rocky path to the 
 sea. The moon was high overhead, and lit up the wa- 
 ter with hf e of light, when here and there the checked 
 current rose in snowy foam over some huge boulder, 
 dropped ages siace on the mighty portage of the ice- 
 swept continent. Nor cry nor insect-note came from 
 the somber masses of the hills. After awhile she 
 turned her head, and looked in through the window 
 at the good people who were so near to her heart. 
 Then she called, "Jack! Jack!" 
 
 The boy got up and went out to her. 
 
 " Sit down on that stool beside me," she said. He 
 obeyed in silence. 
 
 "How is the cub, Jacky Giant-KUler?" 
 
 " He is gone ! " 
 
 "Indeed! I am sorry for that. I wanted to see 
 it. Did it get away?" 
 
 " No. I suppose father gave it to Tom, or some- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 223 
 
 body. I don't care. It was my cub. I don't care," 
 he repeated. 
 
 "Jacky, if Goliath had lied in proportion to his 
 size, he could not have lied larger than that. Now, 
 is n't that so?" 
 
 " Oh, I don't care, and I do." Then he broke out 
 angrily, " The thing is, Aunt Anne, nobody asked me 
 a question ; nobody wanted to give me a chance ; and 
 that long-legged fellow that shot the bear, he said — 
 I wish he was my size ! — he called me an idiot." 
 
 "The description was brief and correct. What 
 brains you have — and they are good enough — you 
 did not use. Three people called to you to drop the 
 cub. Why did n't you? You see what mischief came 
 of it ; and how much worse it might have been I do 
 not like to think. Why did you hold on to the cub ?" 
 
 "I just could n't let it go, Aunt Anne. You 're 
 awful good to a fellow. There is no one Hke you." 
 And here she captui-ed his hand. 
 
 "Why could n't you? It was only to do that." 
 And she let his hand drop, and caught it again. 
 
 " It would have been cowardly." 
 
 "Of course — I knew it ; I knew what you thought ; 
 but I wanted you to say it out." 
 
 " Nobody else has asked me. I did n't think that 
 bear would go after anybody but me and the cub, and 
 I just held on." 
 
 "I see. It explains what you felt; it does not 
 excuse what you did. This is not quite all of it." 
 
 He was silent. 
 
 " You were afraid some one would think you were 
 afraid. Was n't that a sort of cowardice. Jack ? " 
 
224 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 He was clear of head now, and this arrow went to 
 the mark. 
 
 " Yes," he said ; " I 'd hate to think I was afraid." 
 
 " What is eonrage ? " 
 
 " Oh, not to be afraid ; never to be afraid." 
 
 "Is that all? Is n't there a nobler courage that 
 goes hand in hand with reason and love and unselfish- 
 ness ? A man ought to fear when there is reason to 
 fear — to fear evil, or hurt of others, or dishonor, or 
 sin. You have unreasoning courage. How are you 
 better than a bulldog? I remember once, at your 
 father's table, that I asked a great and wise general 
 as to another, who was famous for mere heedless 
 bravery, what he thought of him. ' Oh,' he said, ' he 
 was a great thunderbolt of war, to be thrown by a 
 hand not his own.' The man who spoke was brave as 
 are God's bravest. Jack ; but he had always his wits 
 about him, and knew when to go on and when to fall 
 back. Is n't that the finer courage 1 " 
 
 "I guess so," said the boy. And then, abruptly, 
 "Are you ever afraid. Aunt Anne?" 
 
 " No." And it was true. 
 
 "But t£ you were in a battle, or were going to die 1" 
 
 "lam!" 
 
 "Oh, but soon?" 
 
 "I am! Look here, Jacky, my dear Jaeky. I 
 never talk of myself ; but I wiU this once, for you. 
 I am a very ill woman ; in a year or two I shall die. 
 It is certain. I am to leave this world and those I 
 love. I suffer pain all the time. No one knows how 
 much." 
 
 "Oh, Aunt Anne!" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 225 
 
 " Yes. Now I am not afraid to die. I am not even 
 afraid of tMs pain, wHch goes on from bad to worse. 
 If some angel came and said, 'You are free to die 
 to-morrow,' I would say ' No.' LiEe is my little bear- 
 cub, and it is n't like your cub. I should be afraid 
 to be such a coward as, for fear of pain, to want to 
 let go my cub ; and that is because God has put me 
 here to bear what iUs come to me, and to use them 
 so as to get something out of Ufe — to learn endur- 
 ance and true courage. Perhaps some one else may 
 get something out of it. I do not want to talk over 
 your head, Jack. Do you understand me ? " 
 
 " I think so," and tears began to fall on her hand. 
 " I am — I am so sorry for you." 
 
 " That is weU, — although I am foolish as to pity, 
 and like best to keep my troubles to myself. But if 
 to know all this helps you to do right, to know what 
 the courage which comes from God means, I shaU 
 not have suffered in vain." 
 
 " Thank you ! " He began to comprehend her cour- 
 ageous reticence, and was appalled at this insight into 
 the anguish and struggle of this calm, self-contained 
 life, which went laughing on its way to death. 
 
 " Kiss me," she said, " and mind this is between us 
 two. I try usually not to pain others with my pain. 
 Except to help you, I would not have made you suf- 
 fer for my suffering. No one knows why there is so 
 much torment in the wide world of man and beast, 
 but some of it is clear enough. I have made your 
 young heart ache to-night; but this suffering has a 
 meaning, and ought to have a use." 
 
 " Thank you, dear Aunt Anne ! " 
 
 15 
 
226 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GKEEN 
 
 " Dont cry any more," she said. " I shall love 
 you better than ever because we have trusted each 
 other. Now I think you know what to do. Don't 
 wait," and she laughed pleasantly ; " procrastination 
 is the thief — of what, Jacky?" 
 
 " Oh, of time." And he laughed. 
 
 " No, no, stupid ! — of all the virtues. Your father 
 is in the room. Kiss me." 
 
 The boy rose up and went straight into the cabin. 
 With his head in air, and a little flushed, he walked 
 up to his father, and stood as the latter looked up 
 from his book. 
 
 " I am sorry, sir, for what I did yesterday. I was 
 wrong." 
 
 Lyndsay put out his hand, and the mother also 
 looked up from her book. 
 
 "That wiU do," he said. "I thought you would 
 come right. Go and kiss Rose." 
 
 He did so, whispering in her ear, "I am awful 
 sorry, Rose." Then, in the brief silence that fol- 
 lowed, he walked out again, and went back to Anne. 
 
 " It was n't hard ? " she said. 
 
 " Yes, it was ! I hated it, but I did it." 
 
 "Now, that was honest courage, Jack. You will 
 feel better for it to-morrow. Good night ; I must go 
 to bed myself." 
 
 Jack went in with her, and by the way in which he 
 was bidden good night, saw that the bear business 
 was over. Before he fell asleep, he heard Rose ask : 
 
 "May I come in?" 
 
 " Yes," he shouted. She came to the bedside and 
 kissed him. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GBEEN 227 
 
 "I wanted to say, Jack, that I thought you were 
 very brave to-night. I would have done it, but I 
 would have waited untU dear old Marc. Aurelius was 
 alone. Oh, I am proud of you. You are to have your 
 rifle to-morrow." 
 
 "You asked for it?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 " By Thor, but you 're — " 
 
 This was a family oath. 
 
 "Hush, no swearing." 
 
 " Oh, by Jove ! " 
 
 " These are not the Olympic games." 
 
 " Plague it. Aunt Anne says that is n't swearing. 
 She says — " 
 
 "You and Aunt Anne had better be careful how 
 you explain away the commandments. Good night." 
 
 A poet has said that Time is a mighty peacemaker, 
 and it is quite certain that he patches up even our 
 quarrels with ourselves. This Rose found to be the 
 case. The lapse of a day left her less self-annoyance. 
 That certain precedent facts about her bowman cast a 
 humorous aspect about the new acquaintance began 
 to be felt rather as a relieving aid to future social 
 intercourse than as an added embarrassment. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 JHE next day went by before Rose 
 was believed to be well enough to 
 cast a fly. Mr. Ellett dropped down 
 to ask how Miss Lyndsay was, and to 
 leave a note from Carington, with a 
 half-dozen of the famous Millers. 
 Aunt Anne smiled a little as she caught Mr. Ellett 
 on his way to the house, no one else but she being 
 at home. She made herself very amusing, and, as 
 Ellett was enthusiastic about Carington, she bagged, 
 as she said, all there was to be known of both yoimg 
 men. 
 
 " You see. Miss Lyndsay, I am unlucky enough to 
 have more money and more time than Carington says 
 is good for me. But everybody has the same time as 
 everybody else. That 's so, is n't it 1 I saw it in — I 
 think I saw it in Smith's ' Wealth of Nations.' Ever 
 read it, Miss Lyndsay ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Anne, charmed with her capture. 
 " I don't have much time now. I go in for manag- 
 ing hospitals and things. You see, Fred says a man 
 who can run a club can manage a hospital. Good 
 notion, that. He says men are better housekeepers 
 than women." 
 "What heresy!" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 229 
 
 " Is n't it ? Nowadays Fred has more money than 
 I have. You see, he builds bridges and things." 
 
 "Then you and your friend Mr. Carington have 
 little in common, from your account." 
 
 " Oh, yes, we have ; we like each other." 
 
 "That 's neatly and nicely said; but don't you 
 think that, on the whole, in people who are intellec- 
 tually sympathetic, unlikeness of tastes and pursuits 
 may be as good a foundation for friendship as a 
 common fondness for this or that?" 
 
 "Y-e-s," said the small gentleman, somewhat per- 
 plexed. He was slow of apprehension, but ia the 
 end Kkely enough to become clear as to what he 
 should think of things said. Miss Anne, on the 
 other hand, was a rapid talker and thinker, and 
 sometimes overestimated the capacity of people to 
 follow her. 
 
 " We were speaking of this last week. I said then 
 that as little reason goes into the maJdng of most 
 friendships as into most love-affairs, or, for that mat- 
 ter, into most of the religious attachments which men 
 call their beliefs. Friendship ought to be a tranquil 
 love-affair of the head, without base question of dot," 
 and she laughed. 
 
 " But I like a f eUow first, and then find reasons for 
 it afterward." 
 
 " I said it was a love-affair of the head. I have a 
 small heart somewhere in my head; I know that. 
 Some folks have two heads, and call one a heart." 
 
 " I don't think I quite follow you. Miss Lyndsay," 
 said EUett. 
 
 " Oh, there 's no need to." 
 
230 WHEN AliL THE WOODS AEB GEBEN 
 
 " But it 's dreadful to get left the way I do, at the 
 first hurdle. I was going to teU you what Fred said 
 to me once ; it was n't bad at aU. He said once that 
 ours was a friendship of convenance at first, and then, 
 afterward — Well, the fact was, I happened to hear 
 that he needed money, and I used to admire him, but 
 I never did think he would care for a fellow like me, 
 that shot pigeons, and rode steeplechase, and — killed 
 things." 
 
 "And you helped him ? " 
 
 " Good heavens. Miss Lyndsay ! I never meant to 
 — to say anything about that. I — " 
 
 "You need not apologize," she said, smiling. "I 
 am getting to be a pretty old maid, and that gives me 
 privileges. I think I like Mr. Carington's friend " ; 
 and she said to herself, "You are a dear, shrewdly 
 simple little man." 
 
 Then he thanked her, blushing as he rose, and 
 saying : 
 
 " Now, I must go and get a fish." 
 As for Rose, she began to feel that it was rather 
 nice of Mr. Carington to be in no haste to come after 
 the inevitable gratitude; but when a pleasant note 
 came to Mrs. Lyndsay inclosing the flies, she began 
 also to have a certain amount of curiosity as to the 
 man in question, much, I suppose, like the beginning 
 of that same fatal emotion which in the end causes 
 the salmon to inspect at closer quarters the provo- 
 cative Jock Scott or Durham ranger. 
 
 It was now near the end of their second week, and 
 the after part of the third day from that which saw 
 the drama of the bear and cub. Rose had killed two 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEBN 231 
 
 salmon in the morning, and, not having altogether 
 gotten over the loss of blood, had declined to fish 
 again in the afternoon. Anne was in her room, the 
 mother out in the boat with Mr. Lyndsay, and the 
 boys off to dig up the unhappy woodchuck. Rose 
 had the pleasant feeling of having the house to her- 
 self. She took a volume of Lowell, and, settling 
 herself in the hammock, was soon so deep in the 
 delicate analysis of Gray that she did not observe 
 the coming canoe, until of a sudden Carington was 
 beside her. 
 
 " Good evening. Miss Lyndsay." 
 
 Rose made the usual awkward effort to rise from 
 her comfortable nest, saying, " I am like the starling, 
 I can't get out." 
 
 "Permit me," he said, and, with the help of his 
 hand, she was on her feet. 
 
 "Upon my word," she laughed, "you seem to be 
 essential to the getting me out of scrapes. I am, I 
 was, always shall be hopelessly in your debt," and 
 she blushed prettily, feeling that she had been less 
 formal than she had meant to be. " Pray sit down," 
 she added, taking a camp-stool. 
 
 "Thanks. Don't you think that to give a man 
 such a chance to oblige people like — like your father 
 and mother — rather puts the sense of obligation on 
 the other side 1 " 
 
 "Aunt Anne says that it is written large on some 
 debts, 'Not transferable.' You have put it very 
 nicely, and still you must let me say once for all, I 
 thank you." 
 
 "And I am forgiven for my boy frolic ? " 
 
232 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 " I don't know," she cried, smiling. " That is not 
 nominated in the bond." 
 
 "Well, we will consider the other obligations set- 
 tled," he said, " and leave this for future adjustment. 
 You wUl give me what the men caU a good ' recom- 
 mend' for a new place as bowman? I am rather 
 vain of my poling. How wet you were ! " 
 
 " "Wet ! You have no idea. It established new 
 standards of moisture for me. But we got the fish." 
 
 He liked the pronoun of partnership. 
 
 " Yes. I wonder if Mr. Lyndsay would let you fish 
 our water. I could promise you a salmon or two. 
 Ellett would like to exchange to-morrow afternoon, 
 and try your lower pool, so that, if Mr. Lyndsay 
 would take the lower half of our fishing and we the 
 upper, we should be agreeably matronized — patron- 
 ized I should say. WUl you be so good as to give 
 your father this note?" 
 
 Rose said yes, and he took up the book she had 
 dropped into the hanunock. 
 
 "Lowell! I like his essays more than his verse, 
 except always the immortal fun of the Biglow Papers. 
 That must surely live. For most of his poetry I care 
 little." 
 
 "Yes, it IS graceful, interesting at times, which is 
 not true of some much greater verse ; but I do not 
 care for it much, — and that is dreadful, because we 
 all know him well and love him well." 
 
 " Indeed ! How pleasant that must be ! Long as 
 I have lived near him, I have never seen him." 
 
 " We shall quarrel here and now if you do not at 
 once praise the Biglow Papers." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 233 
 
 " Oil ! but I could not say too mucli of them. Af- 
 ter their kind they stand alone." 
 
 " Thank you ! And how rare it is that the poets 
 combine humor with the higher qualities ! It is sadly 
 true of our day." 
 
 " Yes, yes ! It is laughable to hear people talk of 
 Browning's humor. At times he is grotesque or sar- 
 donic — never delicately humorous or funny. We 
 want a word in between fun and humor. And Ten- 
 nyson is not humorous. It all seems a part of the 
 gloom which has fallen on English letters." 
 
 " Oh, there is ' Plump head-waiter at the Cock ' ! " 
 
 " That is the exception, and is not very notable, like 
 Lowell's sustained and delightful verbal play ; the rest 
 are no better or worse off — the lesser larks, I mean." 
 
 "Yes, and Shelley has no humor, and Keats's at- 
 tempts are only illustrations of the fact that editors 
 don't know where to draw the line." 
 
 " How agreeable we are ! " he said, laughing. He 
 had the happy art of low-pitched laughter. 
 
 " That way of saying we agree," she said, " would 
 delight Aunt Anne." 
 
 "And do you find time up here to read much?" 
 he went on. " I cannot. The hours go by like the 
 water, without freight of thought." 
 
 "Not much," she returned. "I read very little here, 
 although at home we are mighty consumers of books. 
 I am as little fond of the needle as is my aunt, but 
 one takes up a book lazily here as a sort of companion 
 that does not insist on answers." 
 
 " You seem to have provided a goodly ration," he 
 returned, looking about him. 
 
234 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GBEEN 
 
 "I am hardly responsible for tMs mob of books. 
 My good mother is in despair over our accumulations, 
 and my father declares that the house at home is a 
 Noah's ark of books after their kind." 
 
 "And what kind?" said Carington, much pleased 
 to get ofE so easily from what he had feared might be 
 an importunate debtor. 
 
 "Oh, every kind! Of course, my good father's 
 legal books now and then drift away from their 
 proper place. Then Jack collects voyages and fero- 
 cities by land and sea, and Dick wiU spend his last 
 dime on books about beasts and plants. My dear 
 Ned reads everybody's books with entire impartiality. 
 Aunt Anne must have digested libraries; but then 
 she is not like anybody else. I hardly call it reading. 
 She falls upon a book, and appears to look it over 
 carelessly, and then, after you have read it with atten- 
 tion, you find that she knows twice as much about it 
 as you do." 
 
 " But that is very interesting. I judged from our 
 little chat at breakfast that Miss Anne was out of the 
 ranks of our commonplace world. And she reads 
 widely?" 
 
 "Yes! We call her the 'book-hawk.' It is rare 
 fun to see her pounce on a tempting volume." 
 
 " She struck me, if I may venture to say so, as most 
 interesting; but that there should remain this im- 
 mense, ever active energy of appropriation with 
 feeble health seems remarkable." 
 
 A little surprised, Rose asked, " Why do you think 
 herUl?" 
 
 " She told me so, — or hardly that : she was merely 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 235 
 
 led to say she was not strong, and a glance at tliat 
 pale drawn face, Miss Lyndsay, would — pardon me 
 — I—" 
 
 " No. Perhaps I should explain my surprise. It 
 was because to hear of Aunt Anne as confessing 
 weakness was to me more strange than you can ima- 
 gine, unless you knew her as we do." 
 
 " I liked it," said Carington. 
 
 "Yes. It means that she — well — it means that 
 she is going to like you — a signal." 
 
 " Thank you ; that is very pleasant. But, talking 
 of books again, you left off just where I hoped you 
 were going to tell me what books after your kind go 
 into the family ark." 
 
 "I was going to do nothing of the sort," cried 
 Rose, with a laugh. " You will think we are a dull 
 set of mere book-grubbers. I can assure you we are 
 very foolish people, and can be as siUy as the siUiest." 
 
 " You shall have credit for any possible margin of 
 foUy." 
 
 "Oh, there must be a limit. I did not want to 
 leave you to think we are what Aunt Anne calls book 
 proud." 
 
 "Book proud?" 
 
 " Yes. You must have known people who seem at 
 some time to have suddenly discovered books, the real 
 books, and are vastly set up by their new-found wealth," 
 
 "I know. I was stupid. My friend EUett came 
 pretty near to having a grave case of the malady 
 soon after I first knew him, but he was cured easily 
 with the tenth dilution of a sarcasm." 
 
 " Were you the doctor ? " 
 
236 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 " I was. I hope you liked Mm, Miss Lyndsay. I 
 like my friend to be liked by — by every one." 
 
 " You meant to say, by your friends," she returned, 
 with pretty frankness. "You have committed the 
 foUy of making a large addition to your list." 
 
 " And I may include Miss Rose Lyndsay ? " he said, 
 as he stood up. 
 
 " That goes without saying." 
 
 " But I want it with the saying." 
 
 " Then you have it," and she gave her hand for good- 
 by, and he went away. At the cliff edge he paused. 
 
 "I shall be dreadfully disappointed if we do not 
 get the fishing." 
 
 " But I think we shaU." 
 
 "Then good-by again." In a moment he was in 
 his canoe, for he had come alone, and was sturdily 
 poling up the stream. The well-knit figure in the 
 becoming guise of jacket and knickerbockers held 
 her eye until it was lost around the river cui-ves. 
 Then she said aloud : 
 
 " That is a very nice man." 
 
 The man in the canoe said to himself : 
 
 " Please God I shall marry that woman." 
 
 An hour ago she was Miss Lyndsay and as other 
 women had been to him. But now — he smiled. 
 
 When Miss Lyndsay had made her own little state- 
 ment, she looked about her shyly of a sudden, as if 
 fearful lest some one might have overheard her, and, 
 reassured by the knowledge that she was alone, 
 added : 
 
 " I am not as sorry as I was." The why of this last 
 decision she did not seek to analyze, but dropped 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GBEEN 237 
 
 into the hammock, and, lulled by its motion, by and 
 by fell asleep. 
 
 After awhile came Lyndsay on tip-toe, and, smiling, 
 kissed her, and then again before she quite waked up. 
 
 "A pair — two pair — of gloves," he cried. 
 
 At this she sat up, with a faint blush on her 
 cheek, fetched from far away out of dreamland. I 
 do not know of what she was dreaming. 
 
 " You startled me so, Pardy. How wicked you are ! 
 Mr. Carington has been here, and left a note for you." 
 
 "And you settled your small obligations — hey. 
 Rose?" 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Difficult ? " He had anticipated her embarrassments. 
 
 " No. Not even you could have been nicer about it." 
 
 " And you liked him ? "We did." 
 
 "Yes — oh, yes," she said with indifference. "I 
 thought him pleasant. He talks quite well, and is a 
 gentleman." 
 
 " Rather mUd praise for a man who — " 
 
 "Don't, please, Pardy; I — I hate to be joked 
 about it." 
 
 " I won't, dear. To say, in these days of too easy 
 fashions, that a man is a gentleman means, for us at 
 least, a good deal." 
 
 "I think so. Of course, I had to say distinctly 
 that I thanked him, and he received it so — so quietly 
 and simply that I was not in the least embarrassed. 
 I can't tell you, Pardy, how absurdly I dreaded it." 
 
 Thereupon Mr. Lyndsay went in, saying to himself: 
 
 " I hope the receiver is n't going to be the thief — 
 confound the business ! " 
 
CHAPTER XVm 
 
 HE next day, being Saturday, a 
 little note sent in the morning told 
 Carington that Miss Lyndsay and 
 her father would fish his waters 
 in the afternoon. Her father took 
 Rose up in his own canoe, and at 
 the Island Camp they found their new friends. Mr. 
 EUett went off to take their pool, and Rose was soon 
 seated in Carington's canoe, facing the stern of the 
 boat. 
 
 " No," he said gaily, " I shall sit between you and 
 Michelle, here in the bottom. I shall be very com- 
 fortable, and I shall be able to criticize your casts. 
 No, I don't mean to fish. It is your day — all yours. 
 We shaU. beat you, Mr. Lyndsay. Mind, Michelle, we 
 are bent on wholesale business." 
 
 Then they were off, and in a half -hour were at the 
 head of the pool, a full cast from the bank, and in a 
 wilful rush of broken water. Meanwhile Mr. Lynd- 
 say dropped down half a mile below them. 
 
 "I am afraid you must cast seated," said Carington. 
 " The boat rocks too much for it to be safe to stand." 
 " That makes it harder." 
 
 " Yes ; but you won't mind my coaching you ? " 
 "Oh, no!" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 238 
 
 " Then, use your arms and wrist in the cast. Don't 
 try to put too much force in it. There, that is bet- 
 ter — so." 
 
 She went on casting, a little troubled by the critical 
 watchfulness of the curly head below her, for Caring- 
 ton had thrown his cap at his feet and sat bare- 
 headed. At last, in the second drop, a fish rose. 
 
 " Did n't you see him ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "He rose. Wait a little. He lies on a line with 
 that cedar. Now, again. They are in rising mood 
 to-day. I rose six here this morning, and then left 
 the pool, so as not to exhaust their curiosity." 
 
 " That was to leave me the chance," thought Rose. 
 
 "There, Miss Lyndsay; he was pretty eager that 
 time. 
 
 "A rise to a Rose seems grammatically improbable," 
 he murmured, laughing outright at his own nonsense, 
 and happy enough to be easily sUly. 
 
 " What amuses you ? " she said. 
 
 " Oh, nothing." 
 
 " Then you are very readily amused." 
 
 " I am to-day. Up anchor. He has it. Tip up ! 
 So ! A grilse." 
 
 " Oh ! how he jumps," she cried, for he was in and 
 out of the water a dozen times. 
 
 " That is the fashion of his kind, young and foolish. 
 Hold him hard, and reel him in. He is too small to 
 trifle with. Well done ; four minutes, or less." 
 
 " That horrid gaff ! " said Rose. 
 
 "Wait a moment. I thought you might not like 
 it. I have my big net," and so in a moment the 
 
240 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 
 
 pretty five-pounder was in the boat, and had his coup 
 de grdce. 
 
 The next half-hour Rose fished hard, but in vain, 
 and began to be weary. Then, at last, there was a 
 huge splash at the utmost limit of her casting dis- 
 tance. 
 
 " Two fish was after that fly," said Michelle. " Gruess 
 they run against each other." 
 
 " Let out a little line," said Carington. 
 
 " But I can't cast that far. Won't you, please ? " 
 
 "Certainly." And, standing, he threw off two or 
 three feet of line. The leader and fly dropped far 
 away, straight from the rod. At last, after many 
 casts, he put on a fly well known to anglers as a 
 " fairy." The fish rose, missed it, and then, follow- 
 ing the retreating line, struck savagely. 
 
 " Up anchor ! " cried Carington, as he sat down, 
 giving the rod to Rose. 
 
 " Big one that, sir," said Michelle ; and, as he spoke, 
 the salmon darted down-stream, the men in wild ex- 
 citement, and the canoe swiftly urged in his track. 
 
 " The salmon seem fond of going to sea, Michelle. 
 It is very rare. Miss Lyndsay." 
 
 " Oh, he will have all my line ! What can I do ? " 
 
 " Tip up ! up ! He must run, and he will." And 
 away they flew. 
 
 " Quick, Michelle ! I have twice seen a salmon run 
 ofE a reel." And now, in fact, there was very little 
 line left, when, after nearly half a mile of rush down- 
 stream, the fish turned and ran toward the boat. 
 
 "Lost? No! Nothing is ever lost — reel! reel! — 
 except by people who ought to lose. No, reel ! reel ! " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 241 
 
 And poor Rose, at the limit of exhaustion, obeyed till 
 her arm ached, and the perilously long loop of line at 
 last became tense, and the fish showed himself in one 
 great leap not forty feet away. 
 
 " He 's beat ! " cried Michelle. " Easy, miss, easy. 
 Have to gaff him, sir." 
 
 " AH right. What 's the matter with him ? " 
 
 " Hooked foul, sir. Ah ! " And, amidst splash and 
 laughter, and much water over Rose, the prey'was hers. 
 
 " "What does he weigh ? " 
 
 Carington took the spring-scale. "How is it, 
 Michelle?" 
 
 " Thirty-eight pounds, miss, and a beauty. A half- 
 hour we was, I guess." 
 
 " I congratulate you. Are you tired ? " 
 
 " Tired ? No, I am exhausted. I really don't think 
 I can fish any more. Won't you ? " 
 
 "Suppose we pole up a mile or so, to the upper 
 pool. I 'U east a little, and then we can drop down 
 and meet Mr. Lyndsay." 
 
 " Certainly. I, at least, am satisfied." 
 
 "Up-stream, Michelle." And the poles were out, 
 and they went away slowly up the watery slope. 
 
 "Do you mind talking at the back of a man's 
 head?" said Carington. "I might have shifted the 
 chair, and my own position — I will, if you like." 
 
 " No ; it has its advantages," and she laughed, re- 
 membering another occasion. 
 
 "Such as — " 
 
 " I leave that to your imagination." 
 
 " I have none." 
 
 " Then to your reason." 
 
 16 
 
242 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE (JKEBN 
 
 " Gone ! Retired from business." 
 
 " I f oiind it advantageous — once." 
 
 " You mean when I was bowman. I thought I was 
 to be forgiven." 
 
 " I distinctly said you were not, and that I should 
 reserve the matter for future consideration." 
 
 " But the advantage was aU on my side." 
 
 " Thank you. I suppose because you could not see 
 my face." 
 
 " That is simply a diabolical explanation. I hope 
 you may lose your next fish." 
 
 " Don't. I can bear any form of malice but that. I 
 have gone salmon-mad, like the rest of you." 
 
 " I retract," he said. " Is n't this hunting and fish- 
 ing instinct curious? I suppose it got ingrained 
 ages ago, in the days when our forebears were getting 
 their daily diet by the use of the club and spear. If 
 you could shoot, would you Hke that ? " 
 
 He did not want her to say yes, and she did say, 
 " No ; I set my sporting limits at the salmon." 
 
 " That is to say, pretty well up the scale. I confess 
 that for me salmon-fishing is the noblest of the sports." 
 
 " Why is it ? For myself, I like it ; I hardly know 
 why. But I want to hear why you speak of it so 
 warmly. You shoot, of course?" 
 
 " Yes. AU manner of things, when I get the time. 
 As to this fishing, I don't think I spoke at random. 
 It requires some skUl, — not too much, or too intense 
 attention. One is free to mix it with a book, or with 
 deep thinkings, or with the laziest mind-idleness. 
 Then, too, one's curiosity is kept up by the unguess- 
 able riddles of the ways of salmon. We know no 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 243 
 
 more about salmon than we know about — well, I 
 leave you to fill the gap." 
 
 "It is easy to guess," she cried, "what the other 
 term of aU difficult comparisons is for men." 
 
 "Woman, I humbly presume you to mean. In- 
 deed, I at least might be excused if I so said. I have 
 no sister, no cousins, indeed ; no mother — now," and 
 he paused. " I am in truth alone in the world since 
 after the war, when I wandered north, a pretty sorry 
 sort of a half -educated orphan." 
 
 " And what did you do then 1 " She felt agreeably 
 the courteous deference of the young man's manner, 
 and liked the brief emotion of his pause as he spoke 
 of his mother, nor less the soft Southern accent. 
 
 " Oh, I got work on a railroad as a chain-bearer, 
 and worked up until I made a little invention, which 
 I sold, and with the money I went to the Troy scien- 
 tific school. It was pretty tough, because I had to 
 do double work on account of my want of early 
 training. However, I got through." 
 
 "And then?" 
 
 " Oh, then I was employed as an engineer, and, by 
 and by, the firm I am now in took up some of my 
 new notions about bridge-building. I ought to ask 
 pardon for talking about myself. I really think it 
 was your fault." 
 
 " I am not over -penitent. I think, with my father, 
 that the lives of men who succeed are interesting." 
 
 " Have I succeeded ? I suppose that fellow Ellett 
 has been indulging you aU with my virtues and ca- 
 pacities." 
 
 " Perhaps ! " And now a look at the face would 
 
244 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 have been desirable. He said no more for a moment. 
 Then Miss Lyndsay went on : 
 
 " You were about to say — " 
 
 " No, I was not. Yes, I was. I was about to say 
 that success in life means many things. Material 
 success I have had. There are other successes. I 
 have by no means all I want." 
 
 "And what else do you want? Immaterial suc- 
 cess ? I hardly know what that is ; but one can't 
 be consistently wise." 
 
 He laughed. " Oh, I am a fellow full of wants." 
 
 " Do you get what you want, as a rule ? I some- 
 times envy men the battles of their lives." 
 
 "Yes, mostly I get what I want. When I want 
 things, I so terribly want them that not to win 
 is — is unpleasant." 
 
 " Oh ! " she cried, " did you see that salmon jump? 
 I should like to be a salmon, just an hour, to know 
 why they want the fly. They don't want it to eat, 
 do they?" 
 
 "No. But also we ourselves want many things 
 which we can't eat." 
 
 She laughed outright, which is at times provoking 
 when the face is invisible. 
 
 " It is my turn now," he said. " What amuses you ? " 
 
 " Nothing ! " This was hardly true. She was mirth- 
 fully overcome at the idea of Carington as a salmon, 
 and somebody easting a fly over that curly head. 
 "Oh, nothing." 
 
 " I know better," he said. 
 
 " Indeed ? What kind of a fly would you advise as 
 a lure to a human salmon ? " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 245 
 
 " That is a pretty serious question. It is to be a 
 male salmon, I presume. What would I rise to? 
 Money, good looks, character, position." 
 
 "I might suggest a kiUing combination fly," she 
 returned. 
 
 " That reminds me pleasantly of my old guide, Tom 
 Dunham, who used to go with me on Lake Superior. 
 He was an old beaver-trapper. Once I asked him 
 how he baited his traps. He said, ' Women beavers 
 is easy satisfied with one thing for a bait, but men 
 beavers is best took with two or three kinds, all just 
 sot to one, in a bait.'" 
 
 " I don't see the moral." 
 
 " Oh, that is a matter of choice. The beaver, once 
 in the trap, has leisure to select the moral." 
 
 " Rather. How interesting these guides must be ! 
 The lonely life in the woods must result in the mak- 
 ing of some singular characters. Or do they all 
 become duU and taciturn?" 
 
 " Some do. Tom was a most amusing person. I 
 remember we were lying one night at the Pictured 
 Rocks, on the south shore. I can see now the dim 
 line of cliffs, and the camp-fire, and the loons on the 
 lake, taken by the broad red band of ruddy light 
 fiashing far over the waters. Tom was talking bea- 
 ver. At last I told him a beaver story out of one of 
 Buckland's books. It does n't bore you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. I love stories." 
 
 "Well, once on a time, when folks wore beaver 
 hats, an ancient beaver sat on a dam, and discoursed 
 wisdom to a young beaver. Presently came floating 
 down-stream a beaver hat. 'What is that? ' cried the 
 
246 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 young beaver. Then the old beaver wiped his eyes 
 with his long, hairy tail, and said, ' My son, that is 
 our grandfather!'" 
 
 " Delightful ! Do tell the boys that." 
 
 "Tom considered this incident in silence until at 
 last I said, 'Tom, I don't suppose you believe that 
 story ? ' ' Well, now,' says Tom, ' that just shows you 
 don't know nothin' about beavers. In course he 
 knowed his own granddaddy.' " 
 
 " That is really charming." 
 
 " Oh, here is the pool." Their places were now 
 shifted, Carington casting over Miss Lyndsay. For 
 an hour he fished ia a distracted way, to Michelle's 
 disgust, for the fisherman sat for the most part, and 
 paid less attention to the fly than to the back of Miss 
 Lyndsay's neck, and a pair of delicately modeled 
 ears, and the most distracting lot of hair, which had 
 been disturbed in her casting, and in and out of 
 which two hands were busy with mysteriously guided 
 efforts at readjustment. Also, he wondered how 
 much of a woman's nature one could learn from 
 these limited opportunities. 
 
 After a good deal of talk, with some dangerous in- 
 tervals of silence, he gave up fishing, saying, "It is 
 no use," and ordered the anchor up. It was now 
 toward evening, and they were off and away to meet 
 Mr. Lyndsay at the beach. 
 
 "Don't paddle," said CaringtoE. "Keep her straight; 
 that is all." 
 
 He was more than willing to lengthen the time of 
 their too brief voyage. Both seemed inclined to the 
 lonely satisfaction of silent thought. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GBEEN 247 
 
 As they neared the Island beach, Rose said, "I 
 have had so delightful an afternoon that I almost 
 forgot mama's message. I was to ask you to come 
 down to-morrow — no, Monday — night, after dinner, 
 and Mr. EUett, of course. "We will try to show you 
 what siUy folk we can be. We are guilty of much 
 folly, I assure you. We will play 'Situations' — we 
 call it 'Plots.'" 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " Oh, you will learn — and charades, I dare say." 
 
 " It looks formidable." 
 
 "It is — it will be. I have to get even with you 
 about that bowman business." 
 
 " But I am reeking with remorse." 
 
 " I don't believe it. By the way, in my moistened 
 haste, I gave you my luck-piece, my dear little gold 
 dollar." 
 
 "WeU.'? 
 
 " I want it back." 
 
 "And my pay ? I do not work for nothing." 
 
 " You shall have a big silver dollar." 
 
 "No, that is worth only eighty-five cents: pure 
 swindle that ! " 
 
 "But I want it." 
 
 "I like that." 
 
 " I shall never rest tiU I get it." 
 
 " I am so sorry." 
 
 " But I reaUy don't care." 
 
 " That is a relief to my conscience." 
 
 "Oh, Pardy! I have killed a grilse and a thirty- 
 eight-pound salmon." 
 
 "And I nothing. Mr. Carington must have or- 
 
248 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABB GEEEN 
 
 dered all the fish up-stream. Might I ask for some 
 water?" 
 
 "Yes. Michelle, get a jug fresh from the spring. 
 Come to the tents. Alas, Mr. Lyndsay, to-morrow is 
 Sunday — no fishing." 
 
 " No, indeed. How good that water is ! Rose, you 
 might take that grilse to Mrs. Maybrook to-morrow." 
 
 "I will, unless it is too hot. Good-by, Mr. Caring- 
 ton. How comfortable you look here I " They were 
 now in the dinner-tent. "And books ! You are worse 
 than Aunt Anne." And they went away. 
 
 Carington watched them from shore as they hailed 
 EUett, who went by them with three good fish. 
 
 " Now," said Carington, " if it is cool in the morn- 
 ing, I shall go to see Mrs. Maybrook, to pay for the 
 milk : and if it is warm, I shall go in the afternoon. 
 I hope the thermometer wiU be definite." 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 N this Saturday evening, while Rose 
 was relating her day to Aunt Anne, 
 Joe Colkett sat, meditatively, astride 
 of his wood-saddle.i In the morn- 
 ing he had seen Dorothy Maybrook, 
 and had been as cunning as he 
 knew how to be. He had found Dory engaged in 
 " p'inting her man," as she said ; he was to saw some 
 wood, and to Mil two chickens for Mrs. Lyndsay's 
 table. " Now, two p'ints, Hiram, two ! " The pale, 
 square-shouldered man considered her with dull eyes. 
 " You said two pairs." 
 
 " Oh, you are not p'inted right yet. Don't you Mil 
 more than two chickens. Here," and she set two pins 
 in his sleeve, " you can look at these." 
 
 " There, one pin stands for each chicken," he said. 
 " Gruess I 'm p'inted," and he went away. 
 
 "What's wanting, Joe?" she said. " How 's Susie ? " 
 " Oh, she 's Mnd of upsot. She takes on 'bout that 
 last boy like there was n't a boy on airth." 
 " There is n't for her." 
 
 " There 's no gainsayin' that. She 's alius a-talkin' 
 about them Lyndsays, and how they sot a stone, a 
 right handsome stone, up on that there boy of therm, — 
 
 1 The eross-pieoes on which wood is laid for sawing. 
 219 
 
250 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 and she ain't got none. "Women 's awful queer, Dory. 
 I can't buy no tombstone." 
 
 "It does n't seem so queer to me. Can't you get 
 some kind of a thing, just to please the woman? 
 Why, if it was only of wood, you see, it might help." 
 
 "That 's so. I was a sort of thinkin' 'bout that. 
 Queer how folks thinks 'bout the same thiugs." 
 
 " "Were you ? "Well, you 're a better kind of man 
 than I took you for, Joe Colkett. Your wife 's about 
 half off her wits with grieving. If I was you, I 
 would n't — well, I would n't take her too serious. 
 People that are troubled the way she is do have 
 strange notions. I think the devU he 's as like as 
 not to get a grip on us when we are — " 
 
 ""What was you a-thinkin'. Dory?" he broke in, 
 suspiciously. 
 
 " I ain't f uUy minded to teU you, Joe. But Susie 's 
 a masterful woman, and don't you let her get you into 
 trouble. If it 's money, my man and me we 've got 
 a little put by. I 'd a heap rather spend a bit of it 
 than see you tormented into some wickedness." 
 
 " You must thiak I 'm right bad. Dory. Can't you 
 talk out?" 
 
 " No ; I might, but I won't. Only you remember, 
 Joe, I did n't say you were bad, but I do say any- 
 body you care for might p'int you wrong. It 's a 
 queer thing how easy men can be p'inted." 
 
 He was terribly scared, and, seeing that no more 
 was to be had out of Dory, resolved to profit by her 
 warning. How she could have guessed anything of 
 his or his wife's intentions he was at a loss to compre- 
 hend. But he was timid, and eager to steer clear of 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 251 
 
 trouble. After a few moments of silent consideration, 
 he spoke : 
 
 " It ain't always easy to keep straight. Guess I 'm 
 p'inted now, like Hiram," and he grinned. " I don't 
 drink none neither, not now." 
 
 "Stick to that and keep your mouth shut, or it 
 may be worse for you — and for Susie, too," she added. 
 
 " I will. Don't you be afraid." 
 
 " And what fetched you, Joe? " 
 
 " I was minded to set a nice clean board over them 
 boys. I was a-tellin' you that. And I can't read 
 none nor write. But if you was to write big on a 
 paper just what a man might want to set on a board 
 like I was a-talkin' of, guess I could copy it plain 
 enough." 
 
 Dorothy considered. " Can you wait ? It 'U be 
 quite a time." 
 
 " Yes, I kin wait." 
 
 She left him, and went into the house, and was 
 gone a fuU hour. What the man thought of as he 
 leaned against the rails, or sat on top, I do not know. 
 He had the patience of an ant. 
 
 When he saw Dorothy again at the door he climbed 
 down, and, with some excitement in his face, went 
 toward the cabin. 
 
 "It was n't right easy, Joe. I was thinking I 
 might ask Mr. Carington about it. Mr. Lyndsay 
 he 'd be best; but I guess I would n't ask him." 
 
 " No," said Joe, promptly. He saw why this might 
 not be well. " I don't want nobody to know, Dory, 
 'cept you and Susie. It '11 kind of surprise her, and 
 she 'U like it." Then he added, with some cunning, 
 
252 WHEN AliL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 "She hates to have folks goin' there where them 
 children 's buried." 
 
 "I shall never want to," said Dorothy. She still 
 carried an unpleasant remembrance of the dismal 
 burial. 
 
 " WeU, I thought I 'd teU you, Dory." 
 
 "Yes, of course." She took the hint as but an- 
 other evidence of Susie's state of mind and of Joe's 
 dreads and anxieties, and failed to examine it closely, 
 not being of a suspicious turn, despite a life which 
 had given little and taken much. Whoever asked of 
 Dorothy a favor approached her on the side of her 
 nature most open to capture. 
 
 "You are a good deal more patient than most 
 men," she said. " Come in ; come in." Joe entered 
 after her. A Sunday quiet was in the air of the 
 place. There was no fire, and the sun, as it looked 
 in, disclosed no want anywhere of neatness and care. 
 It was not lost on poor Joe as he looked around the 
 small house. He had been here often, but there are 
 times when we see and times when we do not. Now, 
 perhaps because of being on guard, all his senses, and 
 the inert mind back of them, were more alive than 
 usual. A book lying open on the spotless table 
 struck hiTTi most ; a snow-white rolling-pin had been 
 hastily laid on it to keep the place at the moment of 
 Joe's coming. 
 
 He was bent on making himseK agreeable to his 
 hostess, who now stood by an open window, well 
 satisfied with her work, a large sheet of paper in her 
 hand. She had put on for Sunday a white gown 
 which had known the summers of Georgia. It was 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 253 
 
 clean and mucli mended, but it set off her fair rosi- 
 ness and dark hair, and made her look larger than 
 she was. 
 
 " Sit down, Joe." 
 
 " Gruess I will," said Joe. " Top rail of Hiram's 
 fence is mighty sharp." 
 
 He sat down with caution, being heavy. In his 
 own home the furniture was apt to go to pieces unless 
 humored by a but gradual abandonment to it of the 
 full weight of the human frame. Satisfied as to this, 
 he began to use the weapon of his sex : 
 
 "You 're well fixed up here, Dory. There ain't 
 many women could keep a man's house lookin' like 
 youm ! " 
 
 " Oh, it 's only just to not let things get ahead of 
 you, and to keep your man p'inted right." 
 
 "Might be the woman mostly," he said. "Some 
 women p'ints themselves, and some women don't. It 
 is n't every woman 's got your talents." 
 
 "I don't know, Joe. Sometimes I think it is n't 
 worth while to go on and on this way, and then I let 
 things go a while just any way they 're a-minded. 
 That 's burying your talents, Joe ; and then at last I 
 can't stand it, and I dig up my little talents, and dust 
 them weU, and say, ' Get up on your legs, and attend 
 to your business.'" Her parables were never clear 
 to him. 
 
 " "We live just like hogs at my house." 
 
 " No, you don't," cried Dorothy, laughing. " I hate 
 to hear a man taking away the characters of respect- 
 able animals. A hog has always got his nose over 
 the trough. He wants his feed like everything. 
 
254 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GBBEN 
 
 He '11 work for it all day — and smart 1 Why, he 11 
 be into your truck-patch and out, when he sees you, 
 before you can turn round. He knows what he 
 wants, and he goes for it ; and he knows when he 's 
 stealing as well as you or me. I hate to hear an 
 animal called pig-headed because he don't mean to be 
 ordered here or there by a fellow that has n't got half 
 his will or half his brains. There ! " 
 
 " G-osh, Dory, but you 're a funny woman." 
 
 " Am I ? There is more than fun in that sermon. 
 Look here; this might do." And, as he came near 
 and stood with huge square hands on the table, she 
 spread out the sheet of paper. 
 
 " Can't you read any of it, Joe ? " 
 
 " Not no word of it. I might know the letters — 
 the big ones." 
 
 He looked at it as a scholar might at some papyrus 
 in an unknown language. " You might read it," he 
 said. 
 
 Upon this, with a finger on each word, as she went 
 on, and with his eyes following it with interest, she 
 read slowly : 
 
 "here ue the bodies 
 
 OF 
 
 SUSAN FAIRLAMB, 
 
 PETER FAIRLAMB, AND 
 
 ISAIAH FAIRLAMB, 
 
 CHILDREN OF SUSAN AND 
 
 PETER FAIRLAMB." 
 
 " I guess I 'd leave him out," said Joe, straighten- 
 ing himself. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 256 
 
 " But children must have a father." 
 
 "There ain't no need to say it, though, Dory. 
 Susie she won't like it." 
 
 "Well, it is n't my tombstone," said Dorothy. 
 "He was n't much use to them when he was alive; 
 we '11 leave him out." Untrammeled by the usages of 
 the world, she put a pen through the statement of 
 parental relation. 
 
 "What about the dates — the days they died, and 
 their ages?" 
 
 " Demed if I know, except about Isaiah. It don't 
 matter none." He was reflecting that the work before 
 him might be reasonably lessened. 
 
 " It really don't matter," she returned. " But, Joe, 
 don't you want some verse out of the Bible ? They 
 most generally do put that." 
 
 " It makes a heap of work, and my knife ain't none 
 too sharp. Make it short, anyways." 
 
 Certain grim texts came into Dorothy's mind, but 
 she set them aside. At last she wrote: 
 
 Of Bueh are the kingdom of heaven t 
 
 and repeated the phrase aloud. 
 
 "That 's as short as you could make it?" he said. 
 
 " Yes. Do you come down to-morrow morning — 
 no, on Monday. I 'U baste four big sheets together, 
 and print it all, the size you will want it. Then you 
 can easily copy the letters. How will that do ? " 
 
 " First rate. I 'm awful obliged to you, Dory." 
 
 "Can Susan read it?" 
 
 " Well, she can manage to spell it out ; and you 'U 
 read it to me a couple of times, so I 'U be able to tell 
 
256 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 her if she ain't got the meanin' straight. I '11 come, 
 and don't you let no one know." 
 
 " Well, good-by." She made no promise. She had 
 too clear a sense of the ridiculous to want to let this 
 thing stand uncriticized. It was for her a novel 
 venture. Now she saw the man go, and stood herself 
 a moment in the sun, facing the doorway, and resting 
 with both hands on the table. Her own children lay 
 in nameless graves in the far South, buried in days 
 when war and want had made record difficult. She 
 was recalling the live-oak grove where the two small 
 mounds were crumbling to the common level of earth. 
 At last she smiled, and said aloud : 
 
 " I guess Christ will know where to find them." 
 
 " What was you sayin' ? " said Hiram, entering. 
 
 " I was only p'inting myself, Hiram." 
 
 " Do you have need to do that. Dory ? I 'd 'a' never 
 guessed that." 
 
 "Oh, pretty often." She herself would scarcely 
 have said "p'inting" in her talk with the Lyndsays, 
 but that her husband used the word, and she had 
 come to regard it by habit as having a specific signifi- 
 cance other than that of its proper, unabbreviated 
 parent. 
 
 Meanwhile Joe Colkett walked homeward, with so 
 much mind as he possessed at ease. The rest of the 
 enterprise seemed small compared to the difficulty 
 over which poor Dorothy had so innocently helped 
 him. 
 
 At times he had been inclined to content himself 
 with a neat wooden tomb-mark. Being clever enough 
 with tools, this might easily have been managed ; but 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 267 
 
 now, the hard, half-distraught woman, whose worn 
 middle age stiU had his love, for whom he would 
 have dared aU his nature let him dare, was ever at 
 his elbow with hints as to the possibility of crime. 
 He had, however, no natural tendency to grave 
 wrong-doing, and it seemed to him that if he could 
 propitiate this relentless temptress by gratifying her 
 lesser desire, she might be content and cease to urge 
 him into worse ways. He was distinctly afraid of his 
 wife, and, once or twice, of himself, when she had set 
 before him what they could do with money, and how 
 pleasant it might be to get drunk when he liked. 
 
 At least now she should have her more innocent 
 wish satisfied. Nor was it strange that he gave no 
 thought to the people he was about to plunder. He 
 had lived too much of late in the black shade of the 
 possibilities of larger crime to be troubled by the 
 smaller sin he was so eager to commit. Nor could he 
 supply to the minds of those he meant to rob more 
 motives than his own imagination supplied, and it 
 taught him nothing in the way of sentiment con- 
 cerning these records of the dead. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 'OB went home, and, as lie approached, 
 saw the woman, his wife, at the 
 wood-pile. One foot was on a log, 
 and, as she struck, she swung the 
 ax with the ease of habit and of 
 strength. Joe stood a moment think- 
 ing what a fine, big creature it was. He admired the 
 physical power and the dexterity of this gaunt being, 
 to whom unkindly time had left none of the fair 
 curves of her sex. 
 
 Once he had humbly wondered why the tall and 
 still handsome Susan had given herself to him ; but 
 for years he had too well known her motives, and 
 slowly, by degrees, there had been revealed to his 
 simplicity the true nature of the wife he had taken. 
 It did not destroy, it scarcely lessened, his attachment. 
 The poor fellow had by birthright a great fortune in 
 capacity to love. No one had cared for him, and 
 when he found this single love of a sad life, it was 
 not in his construction to be capable of change. 
 
 "HaUoa, Susie! Why, I '11 do that!" he cried 
 cheerfully. 
 
 She stopped short, and, turning, faced him. " You 
 ain't man enough even to cut wood for a woman." 
 And again she struck to right and left with masculine 
 
 258 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 259 
 
 vigor, " Get out, or I '11 let you have it," she said, 
 whirling the ax around her head as he feU back. 
 And still the vigor and force of the woman pleased 
 him, despite the sense that he was being iU used. 
 
 "But I 've been doin' somethin' for you that 'U 
 please you a heap." 
 
 She ceased to chop as he spoke, and, standing, faced 
 him. 
 
 " You can't fool me. Ton 've been after drink. I 
 know you. Get in and make the bed, it ain't been 
 made all day; and there 's a pair of socks needs 
 darning." She laughed. "Pretty dear, he is!" 
 
 The sarcasm was thrown away. He stared at her 
 a moment in dull wonder, and went in, and tossed 
 up the pillows, and turned the corn-husk mattress, 
 and propped a broken chair against the wall, and did 
 his best to make it all look like the neat order in 
 Dorothy's cabin. Next he took a half-loaf of stale 
 bread, and went out the back door and into the 
 woods. 
 
 It was now dusk. Avoiding the road, he strode 
 with a woodman's skill through the deeper forest, 
 over a hill-top, and thus down to the river, and so 
 at last found himself above the clearings. Here he 
 came upon the dugout he had hidden in the alders 
 two days before. He got in and poled up-stream in 
 the darkness, passing the burnt lands, and coming at 
 length to a deserted flat. It had once been a good 
 pasture, but some change had taken place in the 
 channel, and now in the spring the waters always 
 went over it. "Where coarse undergrowth had sprung 
 up, the ice of the April floods had torn long lanes 
 
260 WHEN ALL THE "WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 of ravage. The dead or half-dead bushes were bent 
 southward, and weighted with a ragged tangle of 
 leaves and twigs caught in the angular branchings 
 of the stems : a desolate place, and wild enough in 
 the uncertain evening light. 
 
 Beyond the ruined cabin, which the changes of the 
 river curves had made untenable, he crossed the in- 
 land road. He might easily have come by it, but 
 had wisely avoided even this small chance of being 
 seen. On the farther side was an oblong, white frame- 
 buUding, the Methodist chapel. Once in a month it 
 was used in its turn for service by the lean minister. 
 It was likely that no one would be near it for two 
 weeks, and, in fact, here the road ended. 
 
 Joe got over into the graveyard and looked about 
 him. There were three or four heavy slabs of gray 
 stone, and a dozen or two of unmarked graves, over 
 which he stumbled with a curse. He looked around 
 and listened. Only the hoarse roar of the rapids 
 reached his ear, and he saw the moon just over the 
 tree-tops. The light aiding him, he came at last on 
 the simple, white, upright slab set over the chDd's 
 grave. He seized it, with no hesitation, and began 
 to rock it sideways, to and fro. At last it was loos- 
 ened, and, with no more thought than he would have 
 given the felling of a pine, he tore it out, and with 
 difiBculty hoisted it on his back, and set out toward 
 the river. It was easily lifted over the low stone 
 wall of the graveyard, but as he set it on the top of 
 the fence beyond the road, and began to climb over, 
 the rail broke and he fell, the heavy marble tumbling 
 on his foot so as to cut the instep. He sat down, 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GKEBN 261 
 
 with an oath, and took off his boot. He was in great 
 pain. The boot was torn, as he found, and half full 
 of blood. It was an hour before he could get it on 
 again and walk at all. 
 
 At length he got over the broken fence, thinking 
 only in his suffering of the woman and how she 
 would like what he meant to do for her. Twice he 
 failed to lift the slab onto his back, and twice lay 
 down beside it, overcome by a strong feeling that 
 after all he might fail. At last, in such extremity 
 of pain as would have conquered most men, he got 
 up, and set his teeth, and resolutely took up his bur- 
 den. It must have been the most intense hour of a 
 life without power to call up the past by means of 
 pictures, for, as he staggered through the gloom, 
 sweating with effort and from increasing torture, he 
 was given a brief moment when he saw Susan as he 
 first knew her, a slim, strong, young woman, with the 
 emphatic beauty of anger upon her. It made him 
 stronger, and he went on. At last he reached the 
 dugout, and saying, from mere habit, " Thank the 
 Lord ! I done it," he sat a while with his foot in 
 the cool river water. 
 
 It was true that at no moment had he felt the ter- 
 rors which few had escaped in the lonely home of the 
 dead he had robbed. Now he was at ease and as- 
 sured of success. He laid the stone in the boat. As 
 he stood an instant in the gloom of a profound still- 
 ness, a cold gust of wind came down from the hills, 
 and, with wail and roar in the pines beyond, swooped 
 onto the level, and for a moment shook life of move- 
 ment into the dead gray streamers of moss and the 
 
262 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 hanging ■wreckage of torn underbrush. The next 
 moment all was still again. It is not a very rare 
 phenomenon, but he might not before have given it 
 attention. Somehow its unusualness impressed him, 
 so that he shivered as he felt the momentary cool- 
 ness, and with this came the familiar notion of his 
 childhood that a dog was crawling over his grave. 
 He jumped into the pirogue, shoved it off, and was 
 at once away in the current. As he sat down, with 
 his paddle in hand, he reflected that the white stone 
 was fuU in view and that some one might by chance 
 be out with a drag-net poaching. He put into shore, 
 and carefully covered the stone with ferns. There 
 was, of course, the risk of a river- warden's inquisi- 
 tion, but he knew when the rounds were made, and 
 so ran on fearlessly, keeping a sharp eye ahead. 
 
 No one troubled him. He got ashore near his 
 cabin, and still in the utmost pain, resting often on 
 the way, carried the stone to the wood, where, in se- 
 cure remoteness from his house, he could go on with 
 the needed work. On his way homeward he picked 
 up two steel traps as an excuse for his absence. 
 
 When he entered the house it was early morning, 
 and, to his surprise, he found Susan afoot. Her habit 
 was to lie abed until Joe had been up some time, kin- 
 dled the fire, and perhaps even had set the frying- 
 pan to heat, and made tea, which she was accustomed 
 to drink in excessive amounts. On other days, of 
 late, she was apt to lie abed still longer, to refuse 
 food, and decline to take the least notice of Joe. For 
 him these moods represented the mother's grief. If 
 he did not f uUy comprehend it, he at least tried his 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 263 
 
 best to disregard the inconvenience tlius added to his 
 wretched life. His canine simpleness craved mere 
 affectionate regard, and in its lack, and the undefined 
 misery this caused him, the woman possessed a deadly 
 weapon. And now, on this occasion, to his surprise 
 she was up, and his sorry breakfast of stale bread 
 and bacon ready. 
 
 Of trees to fell, or quality of rafted lumber, he 
 knew enough to be a good hand in the woods or on 
 the spring drives, but naturally enough was unob- 
 servant of people. Nevertheless he noticed that his 
 wife had on a not uncleanly gown, and a bit of worn 
 ribbon, and had set her unkempt locks in order. 
 
 " Law, Susie, you look right slick," he said. 
 
 " Been after the traps, Joe ? " she said, glancing at 
 the rusty irons in his hand. " Get anything ? " 
 
 " Guess so. A mus'rat and a wood-chuck." 
 
 " Let 's see." He went out and brought them ia. 
 
 " Chuck 's good and fat, Susie, and I know where 
 another one lives ! " 
 
 " Just ain't he fat ! And the rat-skin 1 " 
 
 " That ain't much." 
 
 "But it 'd make a nice purse if there was any 
 money to put in it." 
 
 " That 's so, Susie." 
 
 "But we 'U get something to put in it," she said, 
 setting her large red eyes on the man, and speaking 
 with cold cheerfulness. 
 
 "Yes," he returned hastily. "I 'U get a job up 
 river soon. Them Boston men 's set on buUdin' a 
 house. Thought I 'd see 'bout gettin' on to that." 
 
 " Is Carington comin' to hunt caribou 1 " 
 
264 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 " Don't know rightly. He ain't said nothin', 'cept 
 last week. I ain't seen him since." 
 
 " He '11 come, I guess, Joe, and then, if you 're a 
 man, there '11 be a chance." 
 
 " Yes, yes," he said anxiously. " Time 'nough." 
 
 He was dreadfully scared. He felt that he might 
 be made to do anything. 
 
 A smile crawled sluggishly over her face. " That 's 
 so. But the thing is to get your mind set to it. 
 Might happen a good chance any day." 
 
 He was too simple not to show his fear, and she 
 was quick enough to see. 
 
 " You trust me, old man, to fix it, and there won't 
 be nobody '11 ever guess who done it." 
 
 " You ain't called me your old man, Susie, this two 
 year," he said. " Now don't you go for to want me 
 to do somethin' like that." 
 
 "There ain't no harm in considerin' things, Joe. 
 Everything 's just gone against you and me, and if a 
 good chance was to turn up — a right safe one — I 
 guess you 'd not be the man I took you for if you 
 don't just grab it." 
 
 "Well, we 'U see," he said, eager to get off the 
 subject. He had become set in his mind as to this 
 matter, and meant somehow to escape the toils she 
 was casting about him. "What 's for breakfast, 
 Susie?" 
 
 " Oh, that old hen 's took to layin' again. There 's 
 eggs and bacon, and I done you some slapjacks." 
 
 " That 's good. I 'm hungry." As he passed her 
 to sit at the table he kissed her. " Why, you look 
 right pert to-day." 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 265 
 
 " Thought you might be a-spyin' round Dory. Got 
 to keep an eye on you fellows," and she laughed. 
 Manufactured laughter is a dreary product; but it 
 answered for poor Joe as well as the most honest 
 coinage of a merry heart. It set him at ease for a 
 time, and they ate, while the woman tried to rcAdve 
 for her victim the coarse coquetry of her younger 
 days, when she attracted or revolted men as their 
 natures chanced to be. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 YNDSAT had set his heart on a sec- 
 ond Sunday morning on the river, 
 with Rose and the trees. She read- 
 ily gave up her proposed morning 
 visit to Dorothy, and said the af- 
 ternoon would answer. Miss Anne 
 thought she herself was strong enough for the party, 
 and Rose, much pleased, set about arranging her 
 cushions in Tom's canoe. 
 
 " We will be back to lunch, mama," said Rose. " It 
 is early. WUl it rain ? It looks hazy." 
 
 " It is smoke, Rose. Some far-away fire. Where 
 are the boys, Tom ? " 
 " Up-river, sir, with the Gasp6 men." 
 " Who gave them leave to go ? " 
 "You, papa," said Rose. "I suspect they have 
 gone after those unhappy hornets. They were up 
 and away long ago. They asked you last night." 
 "Did they?" 
 
 "Yes; you were deep in a book, and said 'Yes, 
 yes,' in your dear old absent way." 
 
 "I am sorry. Mama thinks it a naughty amuse- 
 ment at best, and when there is also the additional 
 naughtiness of battle on Sunday! Well, they will 
 be properly stung with remorse or hornet-fangs, or 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB GEEEN 267 
 
 a combination. The wounded will be pardoned, I 
 fancy. Hey, Rose?" 
 
 " Like enougli." 
 
 Mrs. Maybrook's vivid account of Susan Colkett's 
 talk with Joe had made on Lyndsay at first a strong 
 impression of disgust and annoyance. He saw in it, 
 after cooler reflection, only one of the numberless 
 beginnings of tragic crime which are refused the pros- 
 perity of opportunity. We have no proverbial wis- 
 dom as to what place bad intentions go to pave ; but 
 those who see much of the darker ways of man are 
 weU aware that there is much intended evU, as well 
 as intended good, which never gets beyond the egg 
 of theory. The crime which Susan Colkett was nurs- 
 ing with the devU-milk of base use of a man's honest 
 love grew less momentous to Lyndsay as he consid- 
 ered it. Once suspected, it became to him almost 
 childlike in its foolishness. Crime-seed, like the 
 grain of the parable, falls everywhere. There is a 
 human climate in which, above all others, it finds 
 swift maturity of growth. 
 
 Susan Colkett was by nature inclined to evil. She 
 had base animal cravings, liking high colors and 
 coarse meats. A want was with her at once a fierce 
 hunger of desire, and made temptation dangerous to 
 one who had in its crude fullness brute courage, and 
 that dreadful alliance of the sensual with the destruc- 
 tive instincts which is more rare in woman than in 
 man. But of Susan Colkett's personality Lyndsay 
 knew almost nothing. He was, however, by no means 
 indiflEerent as to the matter, but had simply put off 
 speaking of it to Carington for want of an easy chance. 
 
268 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 As they came opposite the Island Camp, Lyndsay 
 said abruptly: 
 
 " Run her up onto the beach, Pierre." 
 
 "Are you going to stop? I wish you would n't 
 stop, papa. "We have a very short time to-day." 
 
 " I shall be back in a moment. I have been put- 
 ting off a little matter of — of business with Car- 
 ington. I shall not be long." Meanwhile Anne 
 Lyndsay's canoe also came to shore. 
 
 Rose said no more. She saw her father disappear 
 into the tent, come out with Carington, and begin to 
 walk to and fro on the upper slope. Very soon she 
 began to be curious, as she saw them pause and turn 
 and go on again. 
 
 " What are they talking about, Aunt Anne 1 " 
 
 Miss Lyndsay looked up from a book. " How on 
 earth, my dear, should I know ? " 
 
 " But are you not curious 1 " 
 
 "Yes, I am always curious — as to the good, and as 
 to the bad, and as to everything in between." 
 
 Rose laughed. " That covers the whole possibili- 
 ties. Here they come. Now I shall know." 
 
 " I don't think you wiU." 
 
 " A pair of gloves to a pound of bonbons." 
 
 " Done, goosey ! Whom will you ask 1 " 
 
 " That is my business. There was no limit of time." 
 
 "None! But you will lose. Your father looks 
 solemn, and Mr. Carington like a sphinx." 
 
 "Given two men and one woman, aunty, and a 
 thing to find out: that seems an easy equation." 
 
 " I see the unknown quantity written clear on both 
 faces. You won't win." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE aREEN 269 
 
 Carington stood a moment in gay chat with Rose. 
 Then Lyndsay said : 
 
 " You won't come with us ? " 
 
 " No ; not to-day." His question was settled with- 
 out the thermometer. He was clear enough as to the 
 indiscreetness of a useless morning with Rose and 
 two others, and a meeting at Mrs. Maybrook's in the 
 afternoon. He would abide by the later chance and 
 its less distracting accompaniments. 
 
 " We shall look for you both to-morrow," said Miss 
 Anne Lyndsay. And they poled away up the river, 
 while Rose talked to her father, biding her time to 
 win her little bet. 
 
 Anne, lying in her own canoe, and very comforta- 
 ble, fell into amused reflection. If books were what 
 she dearly loved and closely studied, she had a no less 
 active fancy for that rarer occupation, the serious 
 study of the human face. It is a difficult branch of 
 observation, because one may not too often or too at- 
 tentively examine the features of those with whom we 
 are in immediate social contact. Like her friend. Dr. 
 North, she preferred on the whole the critical study 
 of women's faces. She declared that only these re- 
 paid attention, and that the hirsute growths of men 
 were, like the jungle, useful for the concealment of 
 animal expressions. She remarked with interest that 
 Carington lacked this partial mask, and said to her- 
 self, " That man has something on his mind. Is it 
 about what Archie has been telling him ? I shall ask 
 Archie." Then she went back to her book, which was 
 her favorite " Reisebilder." 
 
 In the other canoe. Rose had brought the talk 
 
270 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 around several sharp corners, and at last, having no 
 better chance, said : 
 
 "You looked worried, Pardy, or so very grave, 
 when you were talking to Mr. Carington. Has he 
 been naughty, papa?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Well, what was it ? You both seemed so intent." 
 
 "Allow me, miss, to ask if interest in me, in Mr. 
 Carington, or in the unknown is at the thriving root 
 of your evident curiosity ? " 
 
 " In you, Marc. Aurelius." 
 
 " That is pretty clever, miss. Permit me to reply, 
 in the language of my namesake, ' Mere curiosity is 
 like a road which leads nowhere : what profits it to 
 go that way ? Also as to things it may be well, or as 
 to those in whom we have an interest, but not as to 
 the horde of men.' Now, as you have expressed no 
 interest in it as a thing unknown, and none as to 
 Mr. Carington, or mankind, and as it concerns him 
 chiefly, I shaU forever after hold my peace. You 
 lost your chance." 
 
 " Give me another." 
 
 "Not I." 
 
 " But I made a bet with Aunt Anne." 
 
 " Then pay it. Have you exhausted your feminine 
 arts?" 
 
 "All — I give up ; but I mean to know. I shaU ask 
 Mr. Carington." 
 
 " I would n't do that, my dear child." 
 
 " Oh, Pardy ! How you rose to that fly ! Imagine 
 it!" 
 
 " You minx ! Halloa, Tom ! Hold up a moment. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 271 
 
 Drop anchor here. I want to stop." They were near 
 to the farther bank. " Here, Pierre, put your canoe 
 alongside. Are you all right, Anne ! " 
 
 "Perfectly." 
 
 " I want to show you something before the sun is 
 too high. Can you sketch here, Rose ? The boat is 
 pretty quiet ? " 
 
 " I am not sure ; I can try." 
 
 " How much darker it is, Tom ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir. It 's the smoke. It 's been about a bit 
 for a day or two. Now the wind 's to south, it 's get- 
 tin' kind of thicker. There 's a big fire somewhere." 
 
 "How far?" 
 
 "Might be a hundred miles away. 'Heap big 
 smudge,' Polycarp says." 
 
 " Look now," said Lyndsay. " Try to get me these 
 water-tints. Take a bit of it." 
 
 "I can't. What makes these colors? They are 
 beyond me." 
 
 " The sun must be back of you ; the water near 
 you — that is, you must be low down. Then the 
 stone-tints of the river-bed are caught by the many 
 changeful mirrors of the surface. It is, as you see, 
 pretty well wave-broken here. Also, the general 
 color is that of this yeUow-red gravel slope oppo- 
 site, mixed with the green of the trees." 
 
 "Then," said Anne, "it gets color — surface color 
 — from within, and also from without, like one's per- 
 sonality." 
 
 " That is it, I see," said Rose. " But the blue in 
 the waves is so deep — deeper than the sky. It is 
 intense indigo. More heavenly than heaven." 
 
272 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 
 
 " Yes, that is so. It is because, as we partly face 
 the current, you look into the concavities of thou- 
 sands of waves, and each condenses, so to speak, the 
 blue of large sky spaces. Am I clear ? " 
 
 "'Each nobler soul inherits heaven's largeness,'" 
 quoted Anne. 
 
 " Thanks, aunty. The greenish gold of the surface 
 is the color of the bank, made also deeper in hue be- 
 cause of being caught on the myriad rippling of the 
 water." 
 
 " Q-ood, my dear." 
 
 " How beautiful it is ! — the flashing cupfuls of blue 
 in among this bloom of green and gold. No one 
 could paint it." 
 
 " It is best at evening. Rose, but not at this point. 
 There is a place some miles up where the general sur- 
 face is silvered by a mass of white or light-gray 
 granite, and in this you have set again the numberless 
 wave-shells of indigo-blue — a dance of blue in silver." 
 
 "Is n't that smoke getting very much thicker? 
 The colors are less brilliant now." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. The wind blows it up the gorges. 
 Happen might smell it." 
 
 "I do," said Anne. "One can hardly see the farther 
 hills." 
 
 " Some men," said Lyndsay, " fancy that it affects 
 the fishing unfavorably ; but two years ago, on the 
 Cascapedia, the water was so saturated with smoke 
 as to be undrinkable, and still the fish rose well. I 
 wanted to study with you again, Rose, the purple 
 color of the dead trees above us ; but this smoke will 
 somewhat affect it." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 273 
 
 " Let US get on to the beach, papa." And in a mo- 
 ment they were seated on a log, Anne lying at ease 
 beside them. 
 
 " It gets still more dense, Rose. We must give up 
 the water. Sketch that sprawling dead pine yonder ; 
 it seems reeling back, and the one in front looks as if 
 it had just hit it." 
 
 " How droU, Archie ! " said Anne. " May I talk, or 
 will it disturb the higher art ? " 
 
 " No. Talk as much as you like. No one could be 
 cruel enough to deny you the safety-valve of talk." 
 
 " If you had said no, I should have wanted to talk. 
 I am now perversely inclined to silence." 
 
 " It is a self-limited disease with you, Anne." 
 
 "Thank you! I was wondering a little whether 
 you were right about the use of minute observation 
 of nature by the poets. Rose told me what you had 
 said. It was, I think, that Wordsworth was apt to be 
 over-credited with this faculty, and that others have 
 had it far beyond him." 
 
 " Yes ; it is the spiritual use of what he saw that is 
 his distinctive quality. I think he carries that at 
 times to the utmost endurable limit — even to near 
 touch of the absurd." 
 
 " That may be so. I think the limits of acceptance 
 depend on one's moods. Of course, too minute notice 
 in verse of natural peculiarities may be possible. 
 Now, these colors — how could one put them in 
 verse ? " 
 
 " Oh, aunty, you forget : 
 
 'A silver plane of fretted gold, 
 Set thick with shells of violet blue.' " 
 
274 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GKEEN 
 
 " That is mere description, Archie — good enough 
 and true ; but what I mean is that accurate descrip- 
 tion does not, as a rule, consist with poetry. The 
 best of it seizes a single trait, and with it links some 
 human emotion. You can't catalogue in verse, as 
 Walt Whitman does." 
 
 "My dear old Walt!" said Lyndsay. "I am 
 thankful for what he gives, and do not quarrel with 
 what he does not. I am inclined to think that he 
 will outlive some of his seeming betters. I have 
 been more than once struck, in talking with him, by 
 his entire unconsciousness of the fact that, while he 
 believed himself to be the poet of the masses, he 
 found his only readers among the most cultivated 
 class." 
 
 " Could I read him ? You said once that I could 
 not," said Rose. 
 
 " He is hardly pueris et virgimbusque, my dear ; but 
 his later editions are fairly expurgated of what had 
 as well never been written. Anne wUl give you his 
 great poem, ' The Dream of Columbus,' and ' The Con- 
 vict,' and 'My Captain,' and 'When Lilacs Bloom.' 
 A friend of North's once gave Walt, through him, a 
 cheek which he much needed, asking in return an 
 autograph copy of 'My Captain.' He took the gift 
 with entire simplicity, and sent two copies of that 
 noble verse. He was the most innocently and en- 
 tirely vain creature I ever knew. The perfect story 
 of his vanity will, I fancy, never be written. It was 
 past belief." 
 
 " What a fine head he had a few years ago," said 
 Anne, 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 275 
 
 " Yes ; he was a great big child, and he looked then 
 like the Greek busts of Jove." 
 
 " He should always be read aloud," returned Anne, 
 " and read, too, with a little contribution of rhyth- 
 mical flattery. If I were Mr. EUett, I would say, 
 'Now, that is n't at all a bad remark.'" 
 
 " You appear to have said so. Aunt Anne." 
 
 "I have. If I were a poet, I would set over my 
 verses, ' Read this aloud ' ; or, ' Read this to your- 
 self ' ; or, ' To be read under a tree over a woman's 
 shoulder'; or, 'With a pipe in autumn.'" 
 
 " What a nice idea, aunty ! When you were talk- 
 ing just now of the use of natural descriptions, I 
 meant to teU you what Mr. Carington said." 
 
 "Well." 
 
 " He said it seemed to him a fine and artful thing 
 in Shakspere to set amidst the crime of Macbeth aU 
 that prettiness about innocent nature ; the descrip- 
 tion of the martlets and the castle, you know." 
 
 " It is true," said Anne. " It is quite true. Does 
 the young man talk well? I am not sure that his 
 remark is new ; but no matter. How little of one's 
 talk can be that!" 
 
 " I thought he talked fairly well. He did not say 
 it was his own thought." 
 
 " No matter. It is ten trovato.^ 
 
 " I think it was his own," said Rose. 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " How the smoke still thickens, papa ! And the 
 water is now a green bronze." 
 
 "Yes, and the sun — Here is my word-sketch: 
 * Eleven a. m. Sun over and back of me. Air full 
 
276 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABB GEEEN 
 
 of smoke. Hills a delicate, airy blue. Sun orange-red, 
 with a blur of yellow around it. All shadows on gray 
 sand a faint green. Delicate opalescence on smooth, 
 slightly rippled water. Deep purple reflections of 
 dead trees. Sense of strangeness — of mystery.'" 
 
 " That is almost as good as a picture, Pardy." 
 
 " At early morning here," he went on, " the river- 
 bed is full of mist. The combination of this with 
 smoke gives some very weird effects. If we have a 
 bright yellow sunset this evening, the dead trees on 
 the hilltops will be of a pure orange tint." 
 
 "I shall imagine the morning colors," said Rose. 
 " I am like the salmon. How they are rising now ! " 
 
 "Yes; and so is my appetite. Shall we go? It 
 will be lunch-time before we get back." 
 
 " And this is our last Sunday on the river for this 
 year," said Rose. 
 
 " And perhaps my last for all years," thought Anne; 
 yet what she said was this : 
 
 "I have been trying to make out, Archie, why 
 water is such a lovely thing. Why is it?" 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 " Nor I. It is the one thing in nature which has 
 moods for me, — I mean many moods. Then it is the 
 one natural thing which has something like laughter." 
 
 " Time writes no wrinkles, etc.," cried Rose. 
 
 " And it has no memory or record of its works. Is 
 that part of its seeming joyousness? And never — 
 never is in straight lines." 
 
 " Rather obvious that, Anne." 
 
 " But it was n't obvious to me a half -hour ago. I 
 am pleased with my discovery. Don't tell me Euskin 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 277 
 
 has said it. I know he has not, or if he has, he had 
 no business to have said it, and you can't patent 
 ideas." 
 
 " But Anne — " Lyndsay began. 
 
 "Don't, Archie. I am not to be contradicted to- 
 day." 
 
 " I was going to agree with you " ; and he laughed. 
 " May not a fellow even agree with you?" 
 
 " Certainly, if he agreeably agrees with me. There 
 are — oh, there are hateful ways of agreeing with 
 people." 
 
 Then Rose was about to mention Mr. Carington's 
 use of the word agreeable, but refrained, she did not 
 know why. She caught the words about to issue out, 
 and put them back into a corner of silence, and did 
 say: 
 
 " What you say. Aunt Anne, of water reminds me 
 of what Mr. "W. said about a picture, last spring, of 
 great war-ships coming through a mist toward us. 
 It was rather fine. But the water was set in such 
 stiff, orderly biUows that Mr. W. said, ' Yes, Britan- 
 nia certainly has been ruling the waves.' " 
 
 " I had forgotten it," said Anne. " Now I remem- 
 ber that our English friend did not capture the 
 meaning." 
 
 " Oh, no. Really, Pardy, it sometimes makes life 
 hard in England, this sort of inaptitude to turn with 
 quick apprehension from grave to gay." 
 
 " It would suit your mama. I am not sure that I 
 like our unending tendency to see things or put 
 things in ridiculous aspects — no, not just ridicu- 
 lous, — help me to a word ; not funny, either,— some- 
 
278 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 where among the lost words, the verbal refuse-heaps 
 of Old English, there must be the word I want." 
 
 " We know what you mean," said Anne. " I agree 
 with you. Our newspapers are every day painfully 
 funny for me. To deal all the time with the serious 
 so as perpetually to make it seem trifling by putting 
 it in comic guises is to damage one's true sense of 
 humor." 
 
 "And of the serious, which is worse," said Lyndsay. 
 
 "And, Archie, I don't like the constant misuse of 
 words it brings about. I don't like to lose respect 
 for words. I don't like their characters taken away, 
 so as to unfit them for their next place. Words have 
 duties." 
 
 " That is aU true, Anne ; but if we begin to abuse 
 newspapers, we shall never get home. And they are 
 so infallible, confound them! — an absolutely honest 
 confession that they have told what was not true is 
 the last thing you can get out of them. The editor 
 who would not contradict a false paragraph as to a 
 man's death is a good example : he offered to put in 
 a statement of the man's birth ! Let us go home." 
 
 Laughing, they pushed off, and, soon lapsing into 
 silence, slid away down the dancing rapids, under an 
 ever dimmer sunshine, as the smoke grew more and 
 more dense. Now and then Lyndsay saw something 
 to remember in wood or water, and made brief note 
 of it. He had a mind some day to make a small 
 book about word-sketching. Probably he would 
 never do it; but it is pleasant to pet our little en- 
 terprises, until, maturing in thought, they get too 
 large for the mother-lap. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 279 
 
 Rose watched the amber waters, and then, furtively, 
 the Island Camp, where was noontide quiet, and no 
 man in sight. 
 
 The two canoes were held together as they ran 
 down-stream, and only now and then a guiding pad- 
 dle was used. 
 
 " You have had a nice little nap," said Lyndsay. 
 
 "I have," said Anne. "I am the only person I 
 know who wUl admit to having slept in daylight. I 
 slept little last night, and — is n't it droU? — I took 
 just now into my sleep a queer little bit of the 
 Orient. I think it is rare to carry one's thoughts 
 with one unbroken into the land of dreams. But I 
 did, and I went on dreaming of it." 
 
 "What was it, aunty?" 
 
 "Only some stuff out of the 'Legenda Aureata.' 
 It would not interest you." 
 
 "Anne ! " "Aunty ! " they cried. " It used to be El 
 Din Attar, and Haflz. Now it is the ' Talmud ' or 
 the ' Golden Legends.' You are a horrid humbug," 
 added Lyndsay. 
 
 " You are a dear, sweet, altogether nice humbug," 
 said Rose. " "What was it ? " 
 
 "Then listen, children. When Adam and Eve 
 were turned out of Eden, they could get no sleep, 
 because of their tears — for when tears part the lids 
 what man may slumber? Therefore all night long 
 they complained. After awhile the birds flew up to 
 heaven and said, 'We have done no wrong, neither 
 have we eaten of the tree, nor do we know good from 
 evU. Yet these two keep us awake with their cries.' 
 Then the Christ came down to help them, and, com- 
 
280 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 ing to Adam, said, 'What is there thou wilt give 
 Grod for sleep ? ' And Adam said, ' We have but one 
 thing left us: we wiU give love.' And the Christ 
 said, ' It is enough. Forasmuch as even the kings of 
 the earth receive no gift without returning a better, 
 therefore for thy love thou shalt have God's larger 
 love and also sleep.' So the man and the woman 
 slept, and the birds had rest. And it was said later, 
 ' He giveth his beloved sleep.' " 
 
 " Is n't it pretty, papa ? " 
 
 " Rather. But, Anne — " 
 
 " I am sleepy," she said. " By-by," and she pushed 
 their canoe away. " Let go, Pierre ; I want to go to 
 sleep again." 
 
 " Was it out of some book, Pardy ? " 
 
 "Grracious, Rose, how do I know?" 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 IHE Sunday stillness of the Island 
 Camp was broken by lunchj and 
 after it EUett thought he would go 
 down to call on the Lyndsays, and 
 perhaps Fred might like to go with 
 him. But Fred had letters to write 
 — he was too lazy — he wished to finish a novel. 
 However, he wrote a note to Mr. Lyndsay, to say 
 that on Thursday he meant to go down the river to 
 Mackenzie to see a man about a cabin he desired to 
 have built on the Island, and would caU to ask if Mr. 
 Lyndsay still wished him to have a check cashed at 
 the bank, in order to pay his men. Also, he could 
 then arrange for the tickets and sleeping-car accom- 
 modations Mr. Lyndsay's family needed on their re- 
 turn. And thus, having secured the absence of EUett, 
 he saw him depart, and for an hour or more smoked, 
 and diligently struggled with a book by a sadly liter- 
 ary woman who was contributing her feeble ferment 
 of doubts to enliven the summer moods of man and 
 maid. At last he rose, pitching the book across the 
 tent, and said aloud: 
 
 "There was a young woman of Boston, 
 A blanket of doubts she was tossed on; 
 Four fiends who were seorners 
 
 281 
 
282 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 Had clutch of the comers. 
 They tossed her so high 
 That she stayed in the sky, 
 And doubts the existence of Boston. 
 
 I forget the other nine verses. Michelle, halloa ! Put 
 me across ! " 
 
 " Pshaw ! " he exclaimed, as he strode through the 
 summer woods. " I hate books which land you in the 
 country of nowhere." And he thought, smiling, of 
 the famous Eastern tale of the caliph and the phil- 
 osopher: "Who are you?" said Haroun. "I don't 
 know." " Where are you going ? " "I don't know." 
 "Where are you from?" "I don't know. I write 
 books; what about is for him that readeth to dis- 
 cern. To know nothing is the Path of Negation by 
 which you attain knowledge of the infinite Nothing." 
 " Then," said the caliph, " in the language of El Din 
 Attar, ' One serious conviction is better than armies 
 of denial : more wholesome is it to believe in Satan 
 than to deny God.' In order that thou mayest abide 
 on the seat of wisdom for a week and acquire one 
 earthly certainty, thou shalt have the bastinado ! " 
 " Where did I read that stuff ? " he thought, and went 
 along, humming snatches of song, his own or others, 
 for he scribbled a little, and had some musical touch 
 of the light grace of the song; but "intended no 
 monuments of books." 
 
 The woods soon brought back to him the mood of 
 contentment, which is one of their many mysteries. 
 The most delightful possibilities are those which 
 never occur, and of these the woods are full. The 
 dehcate sense of something about to happen began 
 
WHEN AiL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 283 
 
 to possess Carington. He went on his way, smiling, 
 and now and then stood still to touch a tree, or 
 notice some unusual giant, or to note some singu- 
 larity of limb or bole. 
 
 An hour or more of sharp walldng brought him 
 to the cabin of the Maybrooks. It was closed. He 
 passed around it, and saw no sign of its inhabitants. 
 He knocked and got no reply. Then he said a 
 naughty word, and went and sat down on the edge 
 of the weU and reflected. He was more disappointed 
 than he felt willing to admit. By and by he acquired 
 wisdom, and went to the brook, where would have 
 been the grilse if Rose and her attendant had come 
 and gone. Seeing no fish lying in this cool larder, 
 he felt better and went back to the well. There 
 doubt awaited him with the possibility of Dory 
 having gone to the Cliff Camp, which would have 
 made needless Miss Rose's intended visit. He had 
 been stupid in not anticipating this contingency. At 
 least he would wait awhile. 
 
 And now there was a sudden gleam far away 
 among the trees, unseen by this young man who was 
 gazing down into the cool depths of the well. Had 
 he looked that other way this flutter of color in the 
 trampled ox-road would soon have become to him a 
 pink muslin gown. The wearer carried a basket in 
 her right hand, and in the left, swinging it gaily as 
 she walked, a broad straw hat. At the wood skirt 
 she paused to change her burden to the less tired 
 hand, — for she had been of a mind to come alone, 
 and now found her five-pound fish to have gained in 
 weight. As she looked up, she was aware of Mr. 
 
284 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 Carington seated on tlie edge of tlie well, his back 
 toward her. He was singing: 
 
 Oh, merry 't is in proud La Moine, 
 
 I hear my glad heart sing ; 
 The flag is up, the fleet is safe, 
 
 And the blessed ohuroh-bells ring. 
 
 Oh, here 's a Mss, and there 's a Mss, 
 
 For you, good northern wind. 
 That brought our fishers home again, 
 
 For you left no soul behind. 
 
 And here 's a Mss, and there 's a kiss, 
 
 Because my heart is glad ; 
 And there be twenty dozen left. 
 
 And my sweet sailor lad. 
 
 He sang with little art, but with every word clear, 
 and as a man alone sings for company of sound. 
 
 Rose stood still and heard it out, liking it, but 
 hesitated a little, half hid behind a huge pine, — a 
 pleasant picture of a maiden struck shy of a sudden. 
 What had happened? There is a little timepiece 
 which Cupid winds up. It ticks quietly, and by and 
 by strikes a fateful hour, or we take it out to see 
 how goes the enemy, and behold! it is to-morrow. 
 Love is the fool of time. 
 
 Rose stood a moment, as I have said, not forty feet 
 away, a little inclined to retreat, — aware that, if de- 
 tected, this would mean something, she knew not 
 what. At last, seeing the need of action, she made a 
 strategic movement to left, and said, " Are you look- 
 ing for Truth?" 
 
 " Good heavens ! Miss Lyndsay," and he rose from 
 his seat on the edge of the well. The prettiness of 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GBEEN 285 
 
 the picture struck him as Rose came forward: the 
 pink gown, fresh from the looms of fairy-land, set 
 fair against the greenwood spaces, the faint excess of 
 color in her cheeks, and the look of unconsciousness 
 which goes surely with natural distinction of carriage. 
 
 " Did you come up out of Mother Earth ? Are you 
 sure it is you ? " 
 
 "I am. I came over to give my grilse to Mrs. 
 Maybrook." 
 
 " Our grilse, you remember." 
 
 "I do not; but it is no matter. I came to give 
 Dorothy the grUse." 
 
 " She is not at home. Let me take the basket. I 
 will put it in the brook. Did you carry it ? " 
 
 " I did. It weighs — I assure you — twenty pounds ! 
 I must see it bestowed." And she followed him into 
 the wood along a narrow path to a basin of brown 
 water. The stream crawled forth here from under a 
 fallen tamarack, and seemed to hesitate a little in the 
 pool below. Then it gathered decision for flight, 
 and leaped out, tripping across the tangled roots as it 
 went. Carington laid the fish in the water, and two 
 stones upon it. 
 
 " It is cooler here than outside," he said. " Dorothy 
 will be back in a little whUe." 
 
 After this outrage on truth, he added : 
 
 " I came over to pay my milk-bill." 
 
 Then Rose, of a sudden remembering what she had 
 said the day before as to this errand of hers, became 
 at once conscious of being in the country of a pleas- 
 ant enemy. Therefore she made a neutral remark 
 as she looked about her : 
 
286 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 " How pretty it is here ! " 
 
 "It is prettier a little way up, where the spring 
 comes out under a rock." 
 
 " I should like to see it, but I must go. I have no 
 time to spare. I must go home. I have so much of 
 nothing to do here, and there is nothing takes so 
 much time as doing nothing ! " 
 
 " That is more mysterious than my little spring. 
 Do come. It is only a step." 
 
 " If it is reaUy only a step." And she went with 
 him, as he answered: 
 
 " Yes, almost literally." 
 
 He put aside the bushes, and ten feet away came 
 where, from under a broad, mossy stone, a gush of 
 water broke forth with a brisk air of liking it. She 
 stood still, pleased with that she saw. 
 
 " The dear, sweet, little thing ! " she cried. 
 
 " It seems glad to get out," he said. " Perhaps it 
 has some strange craving for sunshine; and think 
 what a journey underground in the darkness, Kke a 
 soul in prison." 
 
 " Gro on," she said, still looking down, and consider- 
 ing the fine wholesomeness of its untainted life. 
 
 " How it got a little help here, and strength there, 
 and climbed up from under the bases of the hills, and 
 of a sudden found light and voice and purpose, and 
 goes on its way, not minding obstacles. Pretty, is n't 
 it ? It seems so eager." 
 
 "Yes. I wonder will the sea answer its riddle." 
 It was a quite alarming little parable to this quick- 
 witted young woman. "How it hurries! And it 
 reminds me I too must be going. It says, ' Come.' " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 287 
 
 " Does it, indeed 1 But it does not say, ' Go.' " 
 
 " I am so sorry I have missed Dorothy." 
 
 "You might give her a few moments. She will 
 not be long. I shall have to ' bide,' as she says. I 
 came to pay my milk-bill. Pray consider my melan- 
 choly prospect if I have to stay here by myself ! " 
 
 " Certainly a sad trial," she said, smiling ; " but I 
 really must go." She began to move back again to- 
 ward the pool. 
 
 " Does she know you meant to leave the grilse ? It 
 wUl spoil if it is not cleaned. Grilse spoil so easily." 
 
 It was difScult for mendacity to go beyond this 
 latter statement. 
 
 " I am sorry, but I can leave a note in the doorway. 
 Yes, I have a card, by good luck. Have you a pencil ? " 
 
 This time he achieved the lie direct, and said, "No! 
 but it is near milking-time, and Hiram will be 
 'p'inted' this way of a certainty." 
 
 " I really cannot wait. What time is it ? " 
 
 " How late it is ! " he replied, glancing at his watch. 
 " I had not the least idea it was so late. They ought 
 to be here now. It is half -past five." 
 
 There was good judgment in this fib. If he made 
 it early she would not think it worth while to wait, 
 and if very late, she would be sure to go at once. 
 
 " Indeed ! Only half -past five ! I will rest a few 
 minutes." 
 
 " Better sit down," he said. She took her place on 
 a rock, while he cast himself down at her feet, divid- 
 ing the ferns as he lay. She felt that she had been 
 infirm of purpose. He gave her no time to analyze 
 her weakness. 
 
288 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 " You are very good not to leave me in the naughty 
 company of myself." 
 
 " It is not goodness at all : it is self-indulgence. I 
 am a little tired ; that fish was very heavy. But you 
 have not told me what you were looking for in the 
 weU." 
 
 " What do you folks look for in a well ? " he asked, 
 in turn. 
 
 " Truth, I suppose. "Was that what you were look- 
 ing for ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And did not find it." 
 
 "I shall." 
 
 " There is more water here," she said, laughing, 
 and then could have bitten her wicked tongue. 
 
 "Ah ! we don't look for it in shallow waters. There 
 must be quiet for reflection." 
 
 " Indeed ! What were you singing about ? " she 
 added, abruptly. " What is ' La Moine ' ? I caught 
 the name." 
 
 " I am glad you asked. On the coast near to Bar 
 Harbor there is a little fishing-town, La Moine. The 
 cod-fishers go out in a fleet from its small port in 
 June, to the banks. The voyage, and, in fact, the 
 whole life at sea of these brave fellows, is full of 
 pern. When the home-bound fleet is sighted, the 
 people go to the beach, and a lookout stays in the 
 church-steeple. If he sees no flag flying from the 
 nearest smack, it means that one or more men have 
 been lost, and then the beUs are silent. But if he 
 sees the signal flag, all is well : there has been no life 
 lost, and the beUs ring out merrily." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 289 
 
 " What a pretty story ! Tell me more, as the chil- 
 dren say. It sounds Kke a bit of Brittany. It is the 
 girl who sings ? " 
 
 "Yes. A girl — the girl." 
 
 "Who made the verses? Where did you find 
 them?" 
 
 "A local poet," and he smiled. 
 
 "Yourself?" 
 
 " Yes ; when I get away from my work my brain is 
 apt to run on such stuff." 
 
 " Oh, I like them. Won't you copy them for me ? " 
 
 "You ask too much. But what am I to have in 
 return ? " 
 
 " The pleasure of obliging me." 
 
 " Good ! You shall have them." 
 
 " Thank you. Aunt Anne wiU like the story, and 
 Dorothy — it is strange how easily that woman is 
 interested. Don't you like her ? " 
 
 "Yes, very much. But, then, we are rather old 
 friends. I was not here last year, and this year 
 I find Hiram a good deal changed. It seems as 
 though Fate had dealt hardly with Dorothy. She 
 has so much tact, such natural good manners, and 
 you would smile if I said distinction." 
 
 " No, I should not. It is a word which has ac- 
 quired a fine flavor, and is well applied here. I am 
 always tempted to feel sorry, when with her, that she 
 must always have this narrow life." 
 
 " I do not think the idea ever occurred to her." 
 
 " Possibly not. She is by nature contented, and a 
 source of contentment, which is more rare." 
 
 " That is true. I never see her without feeling 
 
290 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE &EEEN 
 
 that I have gained something. She is in a real sense 
 influential." 
 
 " It seems odd, or perhaps it is not, but she has the 
 same effect upon me. I hardly fancy that in her 
 class you could find this creature repeated." 
 
 " She has a similar effect on EUett, and human 
 nature does not repeat itself. I mean that even the 
 type is rare. It is purely natural, — owes little to the 
 education of events." 
 
 " Yes, rare in all classes, I should say. My Aunt 
 Anne is in some ways queerly like Dorothy." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 "As I am like Jack. You may smUe, — I am. Yes, 
 and that makes me think of Jack, Poor fellow ! he 
 fancies you utterly despise him." 
 
 " No ? Does he ? I wiU ask him to go after a bear 
 with me. I was quite too rough with him, but really 
 
 However, I do not want to talk about that 
 
 horrid morning. I thought he was splendidly cour- 
 ageous and equally outrageous." 
 
 " There is courage and courage." 
 
 "Yes, of course. It admits of analysis. I am often a 
 coward myself ; I am desperately afraid of somethings." 
 
 "Of what?" she said, smiling. 
 
 " I will tell you some day. It is not well to tell a 
 woman everything ; one loses interest as one satisfies 
 curiosity." He was on thin ice now, — but ice it was, 
 as he found out, — what Jack would have called tickly 
 benders. 
 
 "I have no curiosity, — none at all. I think I must 
 go," she said. "I really must go," and she rose, 
 adding, " There is Dorothy, at last." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 291 
 
 He was as mucli relieved as she. He had seen but 
 little of this yotmg woman, and his reason told him 
 clearly enough that he had been near the crumbling 
 brink of folly, and that he had better be careful. 
 He also rose, and they went over to the cabin, where 
 Dorothy greeted them. It was not possible for a 
 person as shrewd as Dorothy, knowing what had 
 passed on the beach with the bear, not to have some 
 notion of what it might lead to in the future. She 
 had in her a fine feminine spice of romance. Now 
 she said, in her quiet way, " Good afternoon ! Did 
 you happen to meet my Hiram ?" 
 
 " No," said Carington. 
 
 " I brought you a grilse, Mrs. Maybrook. It is in 
 the pool." 
 
 " I am that obliged to you. Guess I '11 smoke it, if 
 it is n't too big. Come in. I just puUed some roses 
 for Miss Anne. I 've got them inside. You might 
 take them along. I 'U have to look up Hiram. Come 
 in." They followed her. 
 
 " Here is your money for the milk," said Carington, 
 " and very good mUk it is." 
 
 "My old cow ought to have her share, but she 
 won't. I guess we none of us know when we get our 
 fairings. She won't know any more than the rest of 
 us. Did yon walk down, Mr. Carington?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Come by Joe Colkett's ? " 
 
 " No ; I took the lower road." 
 
 "He was here yesterday. You would n't guess in 
 a week of Sundays what for. He wants to put a 
 wooden slab over those poor children, — just to please 
 
292 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 that hag. And he asked me to print it for him, — I 
 mean, what will do for the inscription. I tell you I 
 was puzzled. I want you to see if it is all right. He 
 can't read a word. You see, he means to copy it, 
 and then to please the woman with it." 
 
 "How sad that is!" said Rose. "And he reaUy 
 cares for her?" 
 
 " I should think he did ! That 's the worst of it." 
 
 "The worst of it? Why?" 
 
 "Oh, she is n't a woman to keep a man straight. 
 She 'd have to begin with herself, way hack, too." 
 Then she added, "Who was the woman Macbeth, — 
 Lady Macbeth f 
 
 " One of Shakspere's characters," said Carington, 
 
 " I should like well to read about her." [ 
 
 "She 'p'inted' her man wrong, I can teU you," 
 laughed Rose. "I can lend you the book." 
 
 " Now, can you ? Don't forget. There 's the writ- 
 ing. I am rather proud of it." They both consid- 
 ered it gravely. 
 
 " You might put in the dates." 
 
 " Joe says ' no.' I guess he thinks it will make too 
 much work." 
 
 " How strange ! " said Rose. "And the text is, ' Of 
 such are the kingdom of heaven.' " 
 
 " Yes. How wiU that do ? " said Dorothy. " They 
 were a queer lot, those children, — perfect little fiends, 
 I called them ; but I suppose there 's going to be a 
 pretty well mixed up party in that other world. 
 Think I 'd like to choose my mansion. It would n't 
 be the nursery. Sakes alive! what was I saying?" 
 Her face became grave, with a look of yearning ten- 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 293 
 
 derness in her eyes. " Miss Rose, I ought n't to have 
 said that. There would be the very place I should 
 go for first ; and only to think I might not get in ! 
 Where would I be then? I tell you, Miss Rose, 
 you 've got to begin pretty early with your tongue, 
 if you want to make it keep aU the commandments." 
 
 Carington smiled. "I fancy dumb folks are as 
 bad sinners as we. After all, one slanders the 
 tongue. One does not know half how naughty a 
 thought is untU we have put it into speech." 
 
 " Lord ! Mr. Carington ! There 's a heap of wise- 
 ness in that you said. Guess I 'U be set up about 
 talking after that ! " 
 
 Here she took up her half-dozen roses, nourished 
 with care on the south end of the cabin, which Dor- 
 othy had whitewashed to get more heat upon the 
 scanty children of her garden. She considered them 
 with affectionate care, touching a leaf here and there, 
 her head on one side. 
 
 " I guess they 're nice enough, even for Miss Anne. 
 Mind, there 's six of 'em. Don't you lose any. Miss 
 Rose ! " 
 
 " Shall I carry them ? " said Carington. "And the 
 basket? Where is it ? " 
 
 " Oh, I 'U smudge that a bit to get the fish smell 
 out, and I '11 fetch it to-morrow. I 'm coming after 
 Mrs. Macbeth, or whatever her name is. No, Miss 
 Rose is to take the bouquet. They 're sort of rela- 
 tions, you see. Men can't be trusted with flowers, 
 and roses are scarce up here." 
 
 "You might 'p'int' me, Mrs. Maybrook," said Caring- 
 ton, laughing, as he followed Rose at a little distance. 
 
294 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 "Reckon I 'm too old." And she stayed in the 
 doorway of her poor little home, kindly, by no means 
 unhappy, and giving the benediction of a smUe to 
 these two people in their youth of health and pros- 
 perity and love. " I guess he 's p'inted already," she 
 said, as she stood. 
 
 Rose turned at the wood-skirts, and nodded good-by. 
 The parable of the roses had been by no means meant 
 as such, but neither the maid nor the man at her 
 side failed to capture the possibilities of its meaning. 
 They walked on in silence for a while, she with a 
 faint hope that her companion had not been as ap- 
 prehensive as she, and he, a little amused, and with a 
 not unpleasing impression as to the slight embarrass- 
 ment which, despite her training. Rose had betrayed 
 when their eyes met a moment while Dorothy was 
 speaking. 
 
 " How silent we are. Miss Lyndsay ! " he said at 
 last. He might have taken it as a sign of their grow- 
 ing intimacy. 
 
 "And do you object to that? I like it sometimes. 
 I like that about the weU-bred English. They talk or 
 not, as they want to. We seem to think it socially 
 criminal to keep quiet. I like to feel free to talk or 
 not to talk." 
 
 "And are you not ? " 
 
 " Yes," she said, and then felt that the little mono- 
 syllable was more or less an admission, and so there 
 was a yet longer silence. But one may be silent too 
 long, and Rose spoke : 
 
 "What you said to Dorothy made me think of a 
 quotation with which Aunt Anne puzzled us last 
 
WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ABE GREEN 295 
 
 night. Her quotations and my dear papa's Marc. 
 Aurelius we are always doubtful about." 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 " ' He who speaketh out the evil of his soul is at 
 the gate of wisdom.' She declined to explain it, and 
 vowed it was out of a Hindostanee poem ; but as to 
 this you need never quite trust Aunt Anne. I was on 
 the point of quoting it just now, but did not, because 
 I fancied Dorothy might not understand it." 
 
 "Do you?" 
 
 " No," she laughed; " not I." 
 
 " She would have been sure to say something droU. 
 I wish you had quoted it. I am glad you do not 
 understand it. I do not. It might have several 
 meanings. But I don't like vagueness in prose or 
 verse. If the thought is worth stating, I think it 
 must be worth the trouble of stating it clearly." 
 
 " Pardy — I mean papa — insists that vagueness of 
 language always means mistiness of thinking." 
 
 "I hardly go that far. There are many explana- 
 tions of the vague in statement. A man may think 
 with decisive sharpness of result, and be quite unable 
 to word his conclusions. But we are in deep waters." 
 
 " Quite too deep. As to quotations, I like to think 
 with Aunt Anne that they are aU in the dictionary, 
 and so cease to bother myself with the source." 
 
 "Assuredly that saves trouble. Ah, here is the 
 river," he said. "Am I not to have a rose ? " 
 
 " Is that a quotation, Mr. Carington ? " and she 
 laughed. " That is silly enough for ball-room talk." 
 
 " It has been said pretty often, and at all events is 
 not vague." 
 
296 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GBEEN 
 
 "I am not sure men ought ever to have roses," she 
 cried, gaily ; " but, as I am not sure, here is one. I 
 will not act on my vagueness." 
 
 " Thank you." He held it a moment, and then 
 quietly dropped it into the pocket of his jacket, not 
 unperceived by Rose. 
 
 "Ah, here is my boat," she said; "good-by." As 
 they stood on the bank, she looked hastily over at 
 the cabin and saw no one in sight. Then she stepped 
 into the canoe, where Polycarp sat in tranquil pa- 
 tience, and the young man, lifting his cap, walked 
 away into the woods. 
 
 Gay comrade thoughts and fancies went with him 
 on the way, and, light of heart, he guided himself by 
 the yellow lanes of sunshine which lit the open forest 
 before him. Soon he found the lower road, and, still 
 smiling, moved on more slowly, and took to building 
 castles on those great estates in Spain to which he 
 had just fallen heir. 
 
 " Seen my cow, Mr. Carington ? " said a voice, a 
 few feet behind him, and the sweet prosperity of 
 fancy was gone. It was Susan Colkett who spoke. 
 He started. He had heard no step, as she came out 
 of the wood, although she must have been very near. 
 
 " No ; I saw no cow. Is yours astray ? " 
 
 " Yes. What time might it be ? " 
 
 " Six o'clock," he replied, looking at his watch. 
 
 " Do you think to come up here in September, sir? 
 Joe says caribou 's plenty up the river." 
 
 Then Carington recalled Mr. Lyndsay's warning, 
 and said, " It is hard to say as yet. Most likely I 
 shall not." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 297 
 
 "I did hear there 's bears back to the pond. If 
 you was minded to go after 'em, Joe he 'd like to 
 guide. There ain't no better hunter." 
 
 " I '11 see about it. If I want him, I shall let him 
 know. Grood night." And he left her. 
 
 After walking some thirty yards he looked back. 
 The woman was standing in the road, taU, angular, 
 and large, a long crooked stick in her hand. She 
 was watching him, but instantly moved as she 
 caught his glance. 
 
 " Confound it," he muttered, " if I believed ia the 
 evil eye, and were a good Catholic, I should cross 
 myself." 
 
 Then he tried to think again of Rose Lyndsay, but, 
 failing to command the return of his broken day- 
 dream, he went on more swiftly, and once or twice 
 turned again, with inexplicable unease, to look back 
 to where he had seen the figure of the woman set 
 against the darkening greenwood. "Pshaw!" he 
 exclaimed. 
 
CHAPTER XXm 
 
 I. 
 
 [HEN on her retum Rose went into 
 their cabin she happened to glance 
 at the clock. Then she said : 
 
 " What time is your watch, Annt 
 Anne ? " Being told, and discover- 
 ing that the two timekeepers were 
 unanimous in opinion, she smiled a little, and went 
 on into her own room. Here she went straight to 
 the small mirror and — why, who shall say? — in- 
 spected herself briefly, saying, aloud: 
 
 "You were a rather big fool, to-day. Miss Lynd- 
 say, and next time you will have your own watch." 
 Presently, remembering what he had done with the 
 rose, she concluded that men were hateful. She had 
 seen a good deal of the world, and had had her full 
 share of earnest admiration at home and abroad, so 
 that she was by no means ignorant as to the cause of 
 the gentle tumult in her bosom. She wanted to wish 
 that this man would let her alone, and be but a 
 friendly and pleasant companion. Also she more 
 sincerely desired that the race of bears had been 
 omitted from Noah's menagerie. 
 
 At last she made her toilet, and went out to dinner, 
 where Dick asked, with cruel promptness, why she 
 had not brought that big Boston man over to dine. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 299 
 
 " Because I did not ask him." 
 
 " That 's not a reason, Rosy," said Ned. " I wish 
 he had come." 
 
 "And I don't," remarked Jack. 
 
 "Why not? " said Lyndsay, coldly. 
 
 Jack flushed as he caught Anne's eye. " Oh, you 
 can't like everybody." 
 
 Anne said, in a quiet aside, "Jackey, your giants 
 are not all dead," and he was sUent. 
 
 " Mr. Carington was at Dorothy's when I got there. 
 He came to pay for the milk they get. By the way, 
 papa, he told me to say that on Thursday he had to 
 go to Mackenzie, and that he would call as he went 
 by and get the draft you wanted cashed, and please 
 to leave word how you wanted it. Oh, I forgot, he 
 said afterward that you could teU. him to-morrow 
 night ; and, Pardy, he wants you to let Jack go with 
 him on Friday, to look for a bear they have seen 
 some distance back of the camp, above the burnt 
 lands." 
 
 Meanwhile Anne was quietly glancing at her niece's 
 face. Now this proposal was fire-hot embers to 
 Master Jack. 
 
 " Oh, I can't go ! Hang bears ! " he said. 
 
 "He did not tell me to tell you. Jack; but he did 
 say he had been hard on you, and I think so, too." 
 
 And now Anne Lyndsay put on her glasses. 
 
 "Well, Jack," said his father, "how is it?" 
 
 "Am I to take my rifle, Rose ? " 
 
 " Yes, — I think he said so." 
 
 " His trust in this family must be large," said 
 Lyndsay. 
 
300 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "Do yoTi think I ought to go?" said this young 
 hypocrite. 
 
 " Yes, but don't shoot him ! " 
 
 And now Rose was dreadfully aware of her aunt's 
 inspection, and made haste to add, with embarrass- 
 ment more felt than seen, " What a budget ! Oh, I 
 quite forgot, Aunt Anne, I took your roses into my 
 room. Dorothy gave them to me for you." As she 
 spoke she left the table, and, returning, put the flow- 
 ers by her aunt. " I was to tell you there were only 
 half a dozen," and here she made a full, though brief, 
 stop; "but that it was all she had. She seemed to 
 think it hardly worth while sending so few. You 
 know how nice she is ; but, dear me, I have made 
 a speech of congressional length, — and I am so 
 hungry ! " 
 
 In fact she had talked at the last with accelerated 
 speed, having made, as she well knew, a sad blunder 
 into undesirable arithmetical verities. 
 
 And now Lyndsay said, " It was very kind of Car- 
 ington. You must be quite exhausted by the carrying 
 of so many messages ! " 
 
 " It is n't all," said Rose ; " Mrs. Maybrook wishes 
 to borrow the book, Pardy, in which is the history of 
 Mrs. Macbeth." 
 
 " Indeed ! " he returned ; " that is droll," and fell 
 to thinking. 
 
 Then Mrs. Lyndsay said, " You must be very warm, 
 dear : you look quite overheated." 
 
 Here Anne let drop her eye-glasses, and began to 
 consider the number of her roses, but said nothing. 
 
 On Monday, after a most successful day on the 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 301 
 
 river, in which both camps had nearly equal good 
 luck, the two men from the island came down in the 
 evening, through a fine moonlight, to the lower 
 camp. They were now in that easy stage of acquain- 
 tanceship with the Lyndsays when people begin to 
 make agreeable discoveries as to other people who 
 are common friends. 
 
 Carington watched his chance and caught Jack 
 alone. 
 " You are going with me, I hope ? " 
 " Yes. Papa says he wants me to go." 
 Carington was very quick to catch the accent of 
 lingering discontent. 
 
 " By the way," he said, " I was rather sharp on you 
 the other day. I don't want you to think I thought 
 you did quite the right thing; but I liked your 
 pluck, even if it was out of place, and I understood 
 the temptation. Suppose we forget it aU. Be ready 
 on Thursday night — pretty late. I shall get back 
 here by eleven, I hope, and will pick you up. I can 
 give you a bed and a blanket, and early Friday we 
 will be off for a day. I can't promise you a bear, 
 but I think we shall both like the tramp." 
 " I '11 be ready, and I 'm much obliged, too." 
 Jack was enchanted, and by and by confided to 
 Rose in a comer his exalted opinion of Mr. Caring- 
 ton, nor was he altogether satisfied with her " Oh, 
 yes, he 's quite a nice kind of a man." 
 
 "You were to have seen, Mr. Ellett, how foolish 
 we can be," said Rose, as they stood by the door. " I 
 also promised Mr. Carington that experience." 
 "And are we not to have it, after all ? " 
 
302 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "No. Papa and I had arranged some very neat 
 situations for your discomfiture ; but papa finally de- 
 cided that they were too difficult, or at least needed 
 some preparation." 
 
 " But I should really like it. I can do a little at it 
 myself, and Fred used to be a very clever actor. 
 But, then, he does so many things well. Do you do 
 many things well 1 " 
 
 "Everything," said the young woman. "We do 
 everything well here in this family, even to liking 
 our friends better than other people like their 
 friends." 
 
 "Don't you think our friends' friends are often 
 great troubles ? I think a fellow's friends ought not 
 to have any friends. That is, a man's friends should 
 not be the friends of his friends. That would n't be 
 so bad now, would it, if it was n't a bit mixed ? " 
 
 Hearing Rose's merriment, as poor Bllett endea- 
 vored to untangle his sentence, Anne and Carington 
 turned to join them. 
 
 " What is the fun, Oliver ? " said Carington. 
 
 "I 've made an overrun," said Ellett. "When I 
 try to talk too fast, I am very apt to do it." 
 
 "And what is an 'overrun'?" asked Anne 
 Lyndsay. 
 
 " When you are casting for striped bass, the reel 
 runs very easy, and the bait is heavy, and if you 
 don't check the reel with a thumb, as the line runs 
 out, and then stop it as the bait drops on the sea, the 
 reel runs on, and the line gets into a tangle, such as 
 is really unimaginable. It takes hours to get it clear. 
 Hence EUett's comparison." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 303 
 
 " That is a noble idea," cried Miss Anne. "An in- 
 tellectual overrun ! " 
 
 " You see," said EUett, much pleased, " everything 
 is underneath that ought to be on top, and the inside 
 of the line gets snarled in loops of the outside, and 
 there 's a sidewise tangle, and — " 
 
 "Would n't it be advisable to stop at this point?" 
 said Fred. 
 
 "Should n't wonder." And he reflected upon the 
 excellence of his comparison. 
 
 The night was clear and pleasant, and, as they 
 talked, they went out and sat on the porch, where 
 presently Lyndsay joined the group. 
 
 "Miss Lyndsay," said Carington, "tells us you 
 gave up the plots. I am not too sorry. How do you 
 play the game ? " 
 
 "Oh, two or three of us devise situations, and 
 when we announce them, the others act them. It is 
 an Italian game, I believe, and quite amusing. You 
 may treat the situations seriously or lightly. It is 
 easiest to keep to the key-note on which you start, 
 and not try too hard to be funny. Puns and quib- 
 bles, coming in of a sudden, disturb the other actor, 
 unless he be well used to it." 
 
 " I never pun," said Anne ; " but to be forbidden I 
 regard as an invasion of human rights." 
 
 " Oh, they are not forbidden ! " 
 
 " Then they should be, except to WendeU Holmes. 
 Only the worst puns are endurable. When Alice 
 Fox told Dr. North his horse 'Roland' was well 
 named, because he was to carry good news to Aix, I 
 considered that the climax of verbal murder." 
 
304 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE aEEEN 
 
 " No, there is a worse one," cried Rose ; " but that 
 I shall never, never tell." 
 
 " Pardon me," said Carington, " was not Mrs. Fox 
 that delightful widow with the pleasant name, — I re- 
 call it now, ' Westerley,' Mrs. "Westerley ? There was 
 some queer story about her wanting to marry a 
 country doctor who came to grief, or did some queer 
 things, I forget what." 
 
 " Yes ; she married Colonel Fox, at last." 
 
 " Married once," said Lyndsay, " engaged once, and 
 at last lucky enough to capture that fine fellow. 
 How many love-affairs she had in between — wJio 
 shall say?" 
 
 "And a sweeter, better woman never was," returned 
 Anne. "I could explain her life; but I have no 
 mind to betray the secrets of my sex." 
 
 " She attained wisdom at last," said Lyndsay, " for 
 I heard her tell Fox once that married men should 
 have every year one month for a bachelor honey- 
 moon." 
 
 As they laughed, Mrs. Lyndsay, who had just come 
 onto the porch, said, "That is like her; but I do 
 think it is only an echo of the discontent with our 
 decent, old-fashioned notions as to marriage. I hope, 
 Rose — " and here Mrs. Lyndsay stopped short. Anne 
 looked up. 
 
 "The recipe seems to work well. They are very 
 happy. I propose some day to start a company to 
 insure the permanency of the married state. It 
 ought to pay. They insure everything nowadays, 
 from boilers to window-glass," she added. 
 
 "That 's so," said Ellett. " Now, the interviews of 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 305 
 
 the examiner of that company with the young 
 couples would n't be a bad situation to play." 
 
 "Admirable," laughed Lyndsay. 
 
 " But don't you want to hear our plots ? You wiU 
 see what you have escaped." 
 
 " By all means," replied Carington. 
 
 " Well, here is one. Mr. Sludge, the medium, calls 
 up Shakspere to ask if he wrote Bacon's essays." 
 
 " If that is a specimen," cried Carington, " I stiU less 
 regret. The probability of Shakspere having been in 
 Bacon's pay as essayist strikes me as a delightful 
 alternation to put into the Shakspere discussion." 
 
 " It is a trifle tough," said Anne. " I should like 
 to ask for it at the next spiritual siance. I myself 
 am strongly of the opinion that Queen Elizabeth 
 wrote Shakspere's plays. Just turn some of her cor- 
 respondence with James into blank verse, and see 
 how dramatic it is, and how humorous." 
 
 " Kepeat some of it for Mr. Carington, aunt," said 
 Rose. " It is really interesting." 
 
 " Certainly, if I can recall it. Ah, here is one. I 
 have made but little change in her words, — hardly 
 any: 
 
 'I praise Grod that you uphold ever a regal rule. 
 Since God then hath made kings, 
 Let them not unmake their authority. 
 Let little rivers and small brooks acknowledge 
 Their spring, and flow no further than their banks.' 
 
 "There is another: 
 
 'Else laws resemble cobwebs, whence great bees 
 Get out by breaking, and small flies stick fast 
 For weakness.' 
 
 20 
 
306 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 
 
 " I like this one," said Miss Anne : 
 
 " ' Por they be actions rather, and not ■words, 
 Which paint out kings and truly in their colors. 
 There be so many viewers of their facts 
 That their disorders (do.) permit no shade, 
 Nor will abide excuses.'" 
 
 " Oh," cried Carington, " that last is like Tennyson. 
 ' The fierce light that breaks upon a throne.' Is 
 there more?" 
 
 "Tell ns," said Rose, "the one about a treaty — 
 she ' mislikes,' I think that is what she says. I liked 
 that one." 
 
 " I think I can : 
 
 ' Touching an instrument you 'd have me sign, 
 I do assure you, though I play on some. 
 And have been brought up to know musick well. 
 Yet this discord would be of gross account, 
 Such as for well-tuned musick were not fit. 
 Go teach your new raw counsellors better manners 
 Than to advise you such a paring off 
 Of ample meanings.'" 
 
 "How pleasantly that takes one back to Hamlet 
 and the pipe ! " said Lyndsay. " It ought to settle the 
 question of authorship." 
 
 " I begin to agree with yon. Miss Anne," said BUett. 
 
 "Don't forget to ask your medium about Queen 
 Bess, aunty," cried Rose. 
 
 "I? Indeed I shall." 
 
 " Have you any belief in that business of spiritual 
 manifestations, Mr. Lyndsay ? " asked Carington. 
 
 " None. Not I. It is one mass of self-deceit and 
 fraud. I have seen too much of it." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 307 
 
 " I have a strong belief in the circulating medium," 
 cried Anne. " It seems rather essential as a means of 
 inspiring the other mediums. But what are the rest 
 of your situations, Archie ? " 
 
 " Oh, there is one more Shaksperian situation." 
 
 "WeU." 
 
 "Mr. Shakspere appears at midnight in Mr. 
 Browning's study and asks what the mischief he 
 means by — " 
 
 "For shame, Pardy!" broke in Rose; "we won't 
 hear any more. They are horrid." 
 
 "I guess we are out of it," said Jack. "I'm 
 audience." 
 
 " Oh, there is one for you. The ghost of a mur- 
 dered bear appears to Master Jack Lyndsay and wishes 
 to know if he can spell ' responsibility.' " 
 
 " Grood for you, Jack," cried Dick. 
 
 " Wait tUl I catch you to-morrow. Redhead." But 
 there was much laughter, and Jack felt that on the 
 whole it was not undesirable for his bear to pass into 
 the limbo of jokes. 
 
 " And now, boys, be off with you and dream over 
 that last situation. Good night," and they trooped 
 away, merry, to their tent on the cliff. 
 
 "Jack is a very good actor," said Lyndsay; "but 
 children are apt to be fairly good actors and then to 
 lose the gift. Ned is even better. The boys are fond 
 of charades, and what we Kke best is to take the 
 names of poets from Chaucer to Crabbe, — we have 
 pretty well exhausted the list." 
 
 " I have seen in Prance," said EUett, " a harder game 
 than your plots. Two or three scenes are allowed, 
 
308 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 
 
 and wliat each is to include is stated. Then the actors 
 endeavor to go through with each act so as to fulfil 
 its dramatic purpose." 
 
 " I trust/' said Mrs. Lyndsay, " no one will intro- 
 duce that game." 
 
 " It would be charming," cried Eose. 
 
 " Come in, Archie," said Mrs. Lyndsay, " and let us 
 have our piquet. Anne and Rose will furnish quite 
 as much talk as will sufi&ce. I must have my revenge." 
 
 "Certainly, my dear," and he went in with his 
 wife. 
 
 " Some time we must really try those plots," said 
 Rose. " Papa is too fond of the difficult ones. Imag- 
 ine Samlet furnishing evidence to the Psychical 
 Society about his father's ghost!" 
 
 " Does any one believe in ghosts nowadays ?" asked 
 EUett. 
 
 " Pardy does, — look I " she said, laughing, and point- 
 ing through the open window. Lyndsay was push- 
 ing off from a burning candle the tall spikes of wax 
 which stood unmelted on one side. " We are laugh- 
 ing at you, papa," she cried. 
 
 " Are you ? " he said, turning from his game. " I 
 can't stand a ghost in the candle: it is another relic of 
 my Scotch education, Mr. Carington. It is bad luck 
 to have a ghost on the candle. I have lost the belief, 
 but the habit remains." 
 
 " I fancy we all keep some of these little pet super- 
 stitions," said Carington. 
 
 "I assure you, we are rather proud of ours," re- 
 turned Anne. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 309 
 
 The chat went on, grave and gay by turns, and at 
 last Lyndsay came back, saying : 
 
 " I retire after a sad defeat." 
 
 " My papa plays cards abominably, Mr. Carington. 
 He writes verses better." 
 
 " Rose ! Rose ! None of that nonsense." 
 
 " The fact is, when we were talking about the cha- 
 rades of poets' names, I meant to repeat the endings 
 papa made for some of them, but, when I mentioned 
 it to him, he shook his head like a China mandarin, 
 and I weakly gave up. He is doing it now," and she 
 laughed. " Oh, I am even with you at last, Pardy, be- 
 cause you left me yesterday in the anguish of ungrati- 
 fied curiosity. This is my vengeance." 
 
 " It is incomplete," said Carington. 
 
 "Blush, Pardy, but teU us the verses." Lyndsay 
 declared that the verse was hardly worth a fight. 
 
 " I can recall only two," he said. " Here is one : 
 
 The fight was lost. On hill and glen 
 Thick lay the ranks of faUeu men; 
 And sullen through the narrow gorge 
 Went back the standard of St. George. 
 Then in the saddle rose the 'Squire, 
 And shook his pennoned spear on high, 
 And called his broken band again, 
 And taught them how to die, 
 And won a name, and little knew 
 That where his country's banner flew 
 By hill or dale, on ocean blue, 
 In centuries to oome. 
 That name the lifted pennon won 
 Should live as deathless as the sun. 
 
310 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "Of course these words were meant only for the 
 children," said Rose ; " I like this better : 
 
 A Smith who beat the gold of song 
 
 To voices pleasant, sweet and strong: 
 
 What royal jewelries he wrought 
 
 With simple words and kindly thought! 
 
 A careless, foolish, wasteful soul, 
 
 Too fond, alas, of pipe and bowl ; 
 
 Vain of his loots, his waistcoat's set, 
 
 Oppressed with duns, o'erwhelmed with debt. 
 
 Crushed with distasteful Grub Street work, 
 
 The friend of Reynolds and of Burke, 
 
 He smiling bore the gibes of Johnson, 
 
 And loitered in the shop of Tonson; 
 
 And well or iU, or drunk or sober. 
 
 In youth or age's drear October 
 
 Went smiling, jesting, laughing through. 
 
 If friends were false or friends were true. 
 
 And fared he well, or fared he iU, 
 
 Left but kind words to greet us still. 
 
 And modest humor's gentlest play. 
 
 That bids no maiden turn away. 
 
 And many a cool, clear, ringing line. 
 
 Still heard through all those noisy years, 
 
 And wholesome as a wayside spring, 
 
 And sweet with smiles, or sad with tears." 
 
 " That is really a nice bit of character-sketching," 
 said Carington, as he rose. " We must try the post- 
 poned plots some other time." 
 
 " I think my father and yon and Mr. Bllett could 
 manage the ghost scene." 
 
 " Perhaps we may have a chance next winter," he 
 returned. " I have a bridge to build near your good 
 city, and shall certainly see you all as I go and come." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 311 
 
 Rose made no reply. The gap in the talk was filled 
 by Miss Anne : 
 
 " That we shall be glad of." 
 
 " And," added Lyndsay, coining out, " we shall hold 
 you to it. There is a little old Madeira stiU left." 
 
 "Your fellows in the war drank all that would 
 have been mine," said Carington. "You owe me 
 principal and interest." 
 
 " We shall be honest ; and we shall look to see you 
 also, Mr. EUett," said Rose. 
 
 " Good night." And they went to their boats. As 
 they poled away in the night, Carington said to him- 
 self, " If those railway directors but knew it, I would 
 pay for the privilege of building their bridge. How- 
 ever, skew bridges are difficult: it wiU take a good 
 while." And he lit his pipe. 
 
 " What are you thinking over, Fred ? " 
 
 " Oh, about the difficulty of constructing a can- 
 tilever skew bridge." 
 
 " What a word ! Good gracious ! It suggests a 
 dreadful pun." 
 
 " Don't," cried Carington. " Come alongside, and 
 give me some baccy." 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 I HEEE was something pitiful to Dor- 
 othy in the eagerness with which 
 Joe received the inscription, which 
 she had carefully printed on four 
 sheets of foolscap basted together. 
 She read it to him, over and over, 
 that Monday morning, at his request, until he could 
 repeat it easily. 
 
 Before going home he looked up Hiram, and bor- 
 rowed a cold chisel and a hammer. "When he reached 
 the wood where he had hidden the stone, he laid it 
 down, and, without further thought, began to chisel 
 out the few sad words in which the graver of the city 
 workman had recorded the fate of Harry Lyndsay. 
 This was sufficiently easy, as he made rough work of 
 it, being anxious to get to the more difficult task. 
 
 He had reflected a little as to the risks of some one 
 visiting the little burial-ground up the river, but, as 
 those he knew thereabouts did not trouble themselves 
 to visit the graves of their dead, it did not occur to 
 him that these city-folks would be any more likely to 
 do so. Nor was it any more probable that, far away 
 in the depth of the forest, anybody who was inter- 
 ested would ever come upon the burial-place of Susan's 
 children. 
 
 312 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 313 
 
 " "Would n't know nothin' if they did," he said to 
 himself, as he went on with great care to mark with a 
 burned stick the place for the lettering, which he began 
 now to chisel on the smooth reverse of the marble. 
 
 It was a hard job, but Joe, like most lumbermen, 
 was very skilful with tools. He returned after din- 
 ner, and steadily persevered until the twilight forbade 
 him to go on. Susan, still in her more pleasant mood, 
 was satisfied that his absence meant merely the con- 
 tinuance of the usual labor of accumulating fire-wood 
 for winter use. 
 
 On Tuesday, early, he went back to the unaccus- 
 tomed task, and all day long hung anxious and sweat- 
 ing over the stone. Meanwhile Margaret Lyndsay 
 sat on the porch of the Clifif Camp, reflecting that 
 soon she must go away and leave her dead to loneli- 
 ness and the long burial of the winter snows. 
 
 On the river Lyndsay was fishing with Anne, and 
 Dorothy had been over, and taken away, carefully 
 wrapped in her handkerchief, the drama of "Mrs. 
 Macbeth." 
 
 And still the hammer rang on in the dark wood- 
 land, until at evening his task was completed. Joe 
 stood up, straightened his tired back, and considered 
 the stone with satisfaction. The work was roughly 
 done, but sufficiently plain, nor was Joe disposed to 
 be too critical. At last here was something which 
 Susie would like. 
 
 Pleased with this idea, he brought water from a 
 forest spring, and sedulously cleared the marble of 
 the charcoal-marks and of the soil of his handling. 
 As he stood regarding it, he even felt pride in his 
 
314 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 seeming power to read what he had carved, and re- 
 peated aloud, " Of such are the kingdom of heaven." 
 
 It was now late, and with deliberate care, lest his 
 burden should f aU, he heaved the slab on his back, and 
 set off across the forest, limping as he went. When he 
 reached the three small mounds in the clearing, he 
 laid it down with care, and, after some deliberation, 
 dug a hole and set the stone at the head of the mid- 
 dle grave. Having thus completed his task, he wiped 
 his wet brow on his sleeve, and sat down on a stump, 
 with his pipe in his mouth. 
 
 He intended to let the night go by, and, after 
 breakfast next day, to take his wife to the wood, 
 and surprise her with what he had done for her. 
 He would tell her he had a secret ; he would say it 
 was something she would want to have done. But 
 he would not tell her what it was. He was like a 
 great simple child ; unthoughtful, owned by the min- 
 ute's mood or need, not immoral, merely without any 
 recognized rule of life. 
 
 As he regarded what he had done, he began to 
 think that to bring her hither at once would be pleas- 
 ant. He could not wait. The notion brought him 
 to his feet, and he soon gathered the material for a 
 fire, which he placed facing the stone, a few feet from 
 the graves. The space around was amply cleared, so 
 that there was no risk. This done, and the pile ready 
 with birch-bark kindling, which needed only to be 
 lighted, he turned away and hastened home. 
 
 It was now dark. As he entered his cabin he saw 
 his wife crouched low on a stool before the fire, her 
 head in her hands, her hair, which was coarse and 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 315 
 
 abundant, hanging about her — a comb awry in its 
 tumbled mass. 
 
 He guessed that her mood had changed. She took 
 no manner of notice of his coming. He moved for- 
 ward, and, touching her shoulder, said : 
 
 " What 's the matter, Susie ? " 
 
 " Matter enough ! " she returned, sharply. " That 
 lawyer man 's been here, and wanted you. You ain't 
 never to hand when you 're wanted." 
 
 "What is it now?" 
 
 " He says we 've got to pay up or git out in Octo- 
 ber. Guess he got my mind 'bout it. I 'd have 
 licked him if I 'd been a man. He was n't far from 
 scared, anyhow." 
 
 " That won't help us none," said Joe, with a glim- 
 mer of good sense. " He '11 be wus 'n ever he was." 
 
 "Who cares?" Then, turning, she set her eyes, 
 aglow with the firelight, large, red, and evil, on Joe. 
 " That man Carington was around to-day, asking if 
 we 'd seen bear-tracks. BiU Sansom told me. He 
 did n't come here. I did see him yesterday, on the 
 lower road, a-twiddhn' a gold watch-chain and a- 
 singin'. What might a big gold watch be worth, 
 Joe ? I asked him the hour, just to git a look at it." 
 
 " Lord, Susie, I don't know." 
 
 To this she made no reply. He stood beside her, 
 shifting his feet uneasily. 
 
 Of a sudden she got up and caught the man by 
 the shoulders, and, as she stood, towered over him 
 a full foot. 
 
 "What— what 's the matter, Susie ? " he gasped. 
 
 " Git that man up here in September, you fool." 
 
316 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 Joe looked aside, Dorothy's imperfect warning in 
 his mind. 
 
 " I heerd he 'd give up that notion." 
 
 " That 's a lie." 
 
 " It ain't ! I swear it ain't no lie. I heerd Michelle 
 a-sayin' so." 
 
 "When was it?" 
 
 " I don't rightly remember. I — I could n't do it." 
 
 " Grit him here, and I '11 do it," she said. " It 's just 
 to pull a trigger. So." And she snapped her thumb 
 and finger so as make a sharp click. The blood was 
 up in splotches of dusky red upon her angular and 
 sallow face. The man recoiled, more scared at the 
 woman than at the crime which he lacked power to 
 conceive of as possible. 
 
 " Gosh I " he cried, " you 're a devil ! " 
 
 In an instant she was changed. She had a share of 
 the singular dramatic power of the abler and more 
 resolute criminal nature. 
 
 " Oh, I 'm just crazy, Joe, what with one thing and 
 another. Don't you never mind me." And a smile, 
 which to another man would have seemed hideous, 
 disturbed her features with unwonted lines. " Might 
 nothin' ever chance. You and me we '11 have to just 
 fight along. 'T ain't every man would have stood by 
 me all along, the way you 've done." 
 
 " That 's so," said Joe, relieved. " I 'U work for 
 you, Susie: don't you go to fear I won't. I was a- 
 thinkin' you was 'bout downded all along of them 
 children." 
 
 " That 's it, Joe ; you 're better a heap than me." 
 She knew, or thought she knew, that i£ the chance 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 317 
 
 came she would have the power to compel him into 
 doing her will. There was strange self-confidence in 
 her sense of capacity to hurl this child-man into evU- 
 doing, as one may cast a stone ; and now the notion 
 possessed her almost continually. How to do it? how 
 to bring about the occasion ? how to escape conse- 
 quences ? The craving for this thing to become pos- 
 sible grew as the days went by. Nor is this abiding 
 temptation rare in minds of her class. I have said that 
 it possessed her, and the phrase suffices to describe her 
 condition. The idea of crime owned her as a master 
 owns a slave. It was a fierce and a powerful nature 
 which poor Joe had taken to his unchanging heart. 
 
 "I knowed it was the children. You won't never 
 talk so again ? Just you come with me ; I 've got 
 something '11 surprise you." 
 
 "What 's that, Joe 1 " She was just now intent on 
 quieting his fears. " Do tell me." 
 
 " No ! You come along. Looks like rain a bit." 
 
 "Well, I '11 go." She threw her hair aside, and 
 went out with him, saying, "You are a queer old man ; 
 I guess I 'm right curious." Well pleased, he went 
 along, the woman following. 
 
 By and by they came into the open space around 
 which the underbrush grew so close that it would have 
 puzzled one unused to the way to find it. 
 
 " You just stand there a bit," — and, as he spoke, he 
 bent over the ready pile, — " and don't look yet," he 
 added. 
 
 " What 's that white thing ? " The night was dark, 
 and, in the forest, of inky blackness, because of the 
 coming storm. 
 
318 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 " You wait," he repeated. " Don't you look yet." 
 
 He struck a matcli on his corduroys, and lighted the 
 birch-bark shavings. Instantly a red light leaped up, 
 and in a moment the flame soared high, flaring in 
 the gusts of wind, so that the tall pines cast all 
 around wild lengths of shivering shadows, and the 
 forest became as day; while the white oblong of 
 stone came sharply out into view. 
 
 " I done it," he said. " I done it for you, Susie ! 
 I done it." 
 
 The woman came near, and, saying no words, fell 
 on her knees to see it better. 
 
 " You did that, Joe ? " and she looked up. 
 
 "I did!" 
 
 " There 's letters on it. I can't spell them rightly." 
 
 " Dory she made them on paper. She won't know. 
 I told her it was for a board I was thinkin' to set up. 
 There don't no one come here." 
 
 " It 's a stone ! a real tombstone, Joe ! " 
 
 "Yes, it's that." 
 
 "What 'son it?" 
 
 " I learned it," he said. " It just says : 
 
 'here lib the bodies 
 
 OP 
 
 SUSAN FAIBLAMB, 
 PETER FAIRLAMB, 
 ISAIAH FAIRLAMB, 
 
 CHILDREN OF 
 SUSAN FAIRLAMB.' 
 
 I left out Pete Fairlamb. Seems right, don't it?" 
 he added, noticing her silence. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEBN 319 
 
 " There is n't anything about when they was born 
 and died. Any fool would have guessed it ought to 
 have that." 
 
 Joe's face fell. After all, he had failed to satisfy 
 her entirely. 
 
 "I done my best. Guess my back 's achin' yet 
 with heftin' that stone." 
 
 " Where did you fetch it ? " she said, looking up. 
 
 " I took it out of the graveyard, up-river." 
 
 "Why can't you say you stole it? It 's them 
 Lyndsays'." As she spoke the dominant idea which 
 she had so long nurtured rose anew into power. 
 " WeU, I did n't think you was that much of a man, 
 Joe." She felt that he had taken a downward step. 
 " You stole it ! " she repeated. " You need n't be 
 afraid to teU me." 
 
 The words " stole it" disturbed him. 
 
 " I stole it ! " he repeated, mechanically. 
 
 " I don't Uke it any the worse for that. What 's 
 that last line ? Did you say all of it ? " 
 
 " That 's what Dory said was to be put under the 
 rest. It made a lot more work ; but Dory she said 
 they most aUus done it like that." 
 
 " What is it ? " said the woman. " I don't make it 
 out." 
 
 He hesitated a moment. "'Of such' — that 's it; 
 most clean forgot it : 'Of such are the kingdom of 
 heaven.' " 
 
 As he spoke the drops began to faU. Then an 
 intolerable blaze of orange light flooded the forest 
 with momentary noonday, and, without interval, the 
 thunder, followed by a deluge of rain, and struck 
 
320 WHEN AliL THE WOODS AKE GEEEN 
 
 hither and thither by the hUls, died away reverber- 
 ant in the distance. 
 
 "Jerusalem! That was a near one! Ain't it a- 
 rainin' ! " 
 
 As the lightning fell the woman threw up her arms 
 where she knelt and staggered to her feet. " Come 
 along," she cried ; and, as she moved swiftly before 
 him in a mighty downfall of rain, she said, over and 
 over, " ' Of such are the kingdom of heaven ' ; ' of such 
 are the kingdom of heaven ! ' " 
 
 When they reached home, she sat down by the fire, 
 as if unconscious of her soaked garments, imtil Joe, 
 coming in from the cow-house, said : 
 
 "You 'd best be gettin' on dry clothes, Susie. 
 You '11 take your death of cold." 
 
 " I 'd like them Lyndsays to miss that stone, Joe." 
 
 " I hope they won't," he returned. " They ain't never 
 been nothin' but good to folks hereabouts. I 'd not of 
 took it happen there was another ; and I would n't 
 have done it for no other woman." 
 
 " It was a brave job, Joe, and I '11 never forget it. I 
 wish them other things had been set on it — when 
 they was born and died. It 's only them rich people 
 has things complete. Maybe you done the best you 
 could." 
 
 " That 's so," he returned. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 N Wednesday morning, Anne Lynd- 
 say woke up with what her brother 
 called one of the acute attacks of 
 curiosity iu regard to Mrs. May- 
 brook. They were subject to vari- 
 ations and accompaniments. She 
 shared with her friend, Dr. North, the fancy for imag- 
 ining what certain persons, real or unreal, would do 
 under circumstances which she contrived for them. 
 It was the byplay of a restless intellect. Lyndsay, 
 who was in his professional work keenly logical, had at 
 times no patience with Anne's amusing nonsense. He 
 labeled it " mental vagabondage " or " mind gossip." 
 
 She was just now outside in her hammock, enjoying 
 the wonderful weather of a Canadian river in mid- 
 June, She was also busy considering Dorothy May- 
 brook in a variety of new social surroundings ; as to 
 what she would say or do in a drawing-room, or if of 
 a sudden dropped into a seat at a Boston dinner- 
 party, between Emerson and Wendell Holmes. And 
 then she laughed aloud in her satisfaction at reseat- 
 ing her between Polonius and Mercutio. 
 
 "What amuses you?" said Lyndsay, as he came 
 out of the cabin with his beloved " Marcus AureHus," 
 a finger in between the leaves. " What, no book ? " 
 
322 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 She related gaily her occupation, 
 
 "Upon my word, Anne, I am unable to conceive 
 what pleasure you can take in such stuff." He was in 
 one of his severer moods, when to be merely logical 
 was alone possible. As Anne said, it was pretty hard 
 to switch Archie off on a siding. He had his own 
 moods, gay or serious; but for the time they were 
 despotic, and disabled him temporarily from entering 
 into those of others. 
 
 "My dear Archie," she returned, "you have no 
 mental charity ; at least, not of a morning. Now, if 
 I were to ask you, to-night, to imagine Dorothy at 
 dinner between George the Third and Edgar Poe, 
 you would just as like as not assist my imagination 
 with an added pair of wings, and — " 
 
 "Very likely," he interrupted. "I suppose it is 
 the result of long habit. I came out just now to ask 
 you how this passage strikes you." 
 
 She was at once aU interest. " What is it, Archie ? " 
 
 " ' Cast away opinion ; thou art saved. Who, then, 
 hinders thee from casting it away ? ' " 
 
 Anne laughed, " Try it," she said. " Cast away 
 opinions — have none, and you won't be bothered 
 with the need to trouble yourself with this old 
 heathen's. I agree with him. Opinions are like 
 gowns : it is so nice to change them ! I am all the 
 time giving away mine, and it is delightful to see 
 how ill they fit other folk." She was, in reality, of 
 all people, the most definite and clear as to her re- 
 ligion and her politics. 
 
 " I think you never can be serious, Anne. Nobody 
 holds harder to their beliefs than you do. I can't 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 323 
 
 imagine what the old pagan meant. Saved from 
 what? 'Cast away opinion, and you are saved.'" 
 
 "It is the salvation of negation, Archie; pretty 
 popular in some places. It is not my kind." 
 
 " I shall get no help here," said her brother. " You 
 are no easier to eject from a mental mood than I am. 
 I think I shall give it up and go a-flshing." 
 
 " It is my changeless opinion that you are now on 
 the track of reason. The first fish wiU answer you. 
 He will be quite on the side of Marcus Aurelius, and 
 wish he had not had a too definite opinion as to the 
 desirability of closer relations with a dusty miller or 
 Durham ranger. Get to thee fine opinions, but 
 don't act on them. Thus, thou shalt have the cool 
 joy of theory, and escape the hot results of its practi- 
 cal application." 
 
 " On my honor, Anne, you are quite intolerable at 
 times." 
 
 "I am to myself, old fellow. I wish aches were 
 opinions. The Christian Science idiots say they are. 
 I would like to exchange aches for opinions." 
 
 "Are you not so well to-day?" he said, putting Aure- 
 lius in his coat-pocket. " You look much better." 
 
 " I am far better than usual," she returned, hastily 
 repentant, as usual, of her admission of weakness or 
 pain. " I am thinking of going over to see Dorothy 
 this afternoon. It is a great enterprise for me, but I 
 really cannot bide, as she says." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "My dear Archie, she took away 'Macbeth' to 
 read, yesterday, and I must — I cannot wait. I want 
 to know what she thinks of it." 
 
324 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "Indeed! She probably won't tbink at all. She 
 will very likely give up at the end of the first scene." 
 
 "No, I don't think it. After the witches? No! 
 She told me you said something about Lady Macbeth ; 
 why or when, I do not know. It seems to have made 
 her curious." 
 
 "That is rather odd. Does she read much? I 
 should not think it." 
 
 " No, very little, and that is why I want to hear. 
 The opinions of people who read too much are not 
 often worth much. But what Dorothy concludes 
 about Lady Macbeth ought to be entertaining, at 
 least." 
 
 "You can have a canoe, dear, and Tom, after 
 lunch. Are you quite up to the walk?" 
 
 " My legs may give out, but my curiosity will not 
 — I can assure you of that. I shall take Ned." 
 
 " Very good, then. I am to go with Margaret up to 
 the burying-ground. She wants to see that it is kept 
 in decent order, and to have a better inclosure made." 
 
 "Poor Margaret ! We go away on Saturday — do 
 we not ? " 
 
 " Yes, about noon or later." 
 
 " I suppose those Boston men will remain." 
 
 " Yes, a week or two." 
 
 After this she was silent, and her brother, leaning 
 against the door-post, glanced listlessly down the river. 
 She was seldom silent very long. 
 
 "Well, what is it, sister?" He rarely used the 
 word of relationship. 
 
 " Have you thought at all, Archie, about — Rose 
 and Mr. Carington?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 32B 
 
 "Why should I? Margaret has been pestering 
 herself about the man. But Rose is a difiScult young 
 woman, Anne, and there have been so many matri- 
 monial scares that now I don't trouble myself any 
 longer." 
 
 " Circumstance is a mighty match-maker, Archie." 
 
 " But Rose is not, as you know. I sometimes think 
 she will never marry. She is twenty now." 
 
 " Indeed ! I think, Archie, I should like to have a 
 dictionary of the reasons why women marry men." 
 
 He laughed. " The reason is as old as Adam. 
 They have no one else to marry." 
 
 " Oh, he had no embarras de choix," she cried. 
 " Pity he had not. They are various, I fancy — I 
 mean the honest causes of interest that lead on to 
 love. I have always thought that Rose would be 
 captured by character. In our every-day life it 
 lacks chance of exhibition, but here, it is, or has 
 been, different. That man is a strong, effective, de- 
 cisive person. He has a good deal that is attractive, 
 and that soft Southern way which our men lack. 
 Moreover, he is very good-looking. If you don't 
 want it to be, take care : I think it is too late." 
 
 "Anne!" Her sagacity was very rarely at fault. 
 He knew it, and was somewhat alarmed. " But I can 
 do nothing." 
 
 " No. I do not know why you should. We know 
 aU about the man and his people. Rose is not a girl 
 to act in haste." 
 
 "Why, then, should we bother about it?" he said. 
 
 " We don't : you wiU. And Margaret wUl fuss." 
 
 " I am afraid so. Confound the men ! " 
 
326 WHEN AliL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 " If Margaret had confounded you with other men 
 twenty-four years ago, this catastrophe would not 
 have been imminent to-day. Let us hold her re- 
 sponsible." 
 
 " You hare made me very unhappy, Anne. I can't 
 jest about it." 
 
 " Then I can. I think I like him. I wish I had 
 married myself — I mean, somebody else. Old maids 
 are married to themselves, and that is the reason why 
 they have a bad time." 
 
 "Do you?" 
 
 " Not a bit ! G-o a-fishing, and hold your tongue." 
 
 Lyndsay uttered a malediction on things in general, 
 and walked away. 
 
 Some time after lunch Anne called Ned, and went 
 over the river with Tom, who thundered replies to 
 her ever-varying range of questions about climate, 
 lumber, trees, and men. A little later, Margaret and 
 her husband, who had given up for her his evening 
 sport, set out up-stream, and the twins were left to the 
 Indian and a chance at the lower pool. 
 
 Anne and the boy climbed up the bank, and went 
 away into the woodland. Several times, feeling tired, 
 she sat down on a wayside stump or fallen tree. She 
 had the peculiar trait of liking to be silent when afoot 
 or when driving. As soon as she was at rest her 
 tongue was apt to be set free, and she became, as 
 usual, a delightful comrade. 
 
 Now she began to amuse herself by asking the lad 
 in what age he would like to have lived, and was 
 pleased that he chose the reign of Elizabeth. Then at 
 last she talked about Dorothy, and of her life, its 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 327 
 
 hajdsMps, trials, and contentments with what she had, 
 and, finally, of the woman's interest in " Macbeth " 
 and her own curiosity as to this. She had the art of 
 interesting the young in matters usually thought to 
 be out of their sphere of comprehension. 
 
 As she sat, Ned, who was quick to see, noticed that 
 she became of a sudden silent, and, looking up, saw 
 that her face was distorted for a moment, and that 
 she had one hand pressed against her side. He rose, 
 saying: 
 
 " "What is the matter. Aunt Anne ? " 
 
 " Nothing. Nothing much. I very often have pain, 
 and sometimes it beats me." 
 
 " I am sorry. Can't I do something ? " 
 
 " No, dear. It will be better presently. It is bet- 
 ter now," and she wiped her brow. 
 
 " Why do people have pain 1 " 
 
 " To keep them from eating green apples a second 
 time." 
 
 "That 's so, aunty; but you — why do you have 
 pain?" 
 
 " Perhaps because my great-grandpapa would eat 
 green apples. ' The fathers have eaten sour grapes, 
 and the children's teeth are set on edge.'" 
 
 " I don't understand." 
 
 " No ! That is an enigma for more than you. I do 
 not know why I have pain. Having it, I know what 
 to do with it. I don't know why Christ had pain. 
 God might have willed to help us in other ways, but 
 at least I know what to do with the story of that 
 anguish. If he was, as we think, a perfect man, Ned, 
 he must have suffered as only a man who was also 
 
328 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 more than man could suffer. As lie chose his pain to 
 he, and taught men how to use it, so must I in my 
 small way." 
 
 "And would n't you choose, aunty, just to have no 
 pain, if you could ? " 
 
 " Get thee behind me, little Satan," she laughed. 
 "If I could make a world without pain, would I 
 choose ? I don't know. My pain has been a bitter 
 friend. Come," and she rose. The boy, whose 
 thoughts and questions were beyond his years, 
 walked on in silence, now and then glancing at the 
 woman's face. 
 
 "Does no one know, Aunt Anne, why we must 
 have pain?" 
 
 " Only one man knew, Ned, and he suffered and 
 was silent." 
 
 " It seems dreadful. Aunt Anne." 
 
 " Perhaps it only seems : best to think that." 
 
 At the cabin-door Dorothy came out smiling, the 
 little, red pocket-copy of "Macbeth" in her hand. 
 
 "Now this is right good of you. Miss Anne," she 
 said. " Come in. Mrs. Lyndsay was telling me last 
 week you like a cup of tea about sundown. It 's a 
 bit early, but you might be tired. I 've got the tea 
 Mrs. Lyndsay sent me last year." 
 
 "I would like a cup, Dorothy. How is Hiram? 
 and the cows? and the chickens? and Sambo, the 
 cat?" 
 
 " They 're all well — the whole fanuly." 
 
 She set the kettle on the fire, got some bread, cut 
 it up, and set it with a supply of butter before Ned. 
 
 " No good in asking a boy if be is hungry." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 329 
 
 Ned laughed. " Jack says it is no use for Dick to 
 eat : he is just as hungry when he is done as he was 
 at first." 
 
 " ' It grows by what it feeds on, like the worm i' the 
 bud,' " said Anne to herself. " I '11 keep that quota- 
 tion for Archie." And then, aloud, "We old folks 
 eat from habit. The only appetite I have left is for 
 books, and — What good tea, Dorothy! Thanks! 
 Tes, one cup more. My brother says you like coffee 
 better. I sent to Montreal for a few things you 
 might like. You will find among them a small bag 
 of coffee. We think ours excellent." 
 
 "And I was just last night a-wondering how I 
 could get some right good coffee. It 's half chicory 
 what we get ; and here, in you walk, and I 've got it 
 easy as asking. I have n't said I 'm obliged to you, 
 but I am. Fact is, Miss Anne, giving comes so nat- 
 ural to some folks — you might as well thank them 
 for sneezing. I 'm a bit that way myself. I do just 
 think beiug thanked is the hardest part of giving. 
 If the man in church was to say, ' Thank you, 
 ma'am,' every time I dropped a sixpence in his bag, 
 he would n't get another out of me soon." 
 
 " I am much of your way of thinking," said Anne. 
 " But tell me, what about the book ? How do you 
 like it? And why did you want to read it?" 
 
 " Mr. Lyndsay happened to say some one was like 
 that woman, Lady Macbeth. Guess I called her Mrs. 
 Macbeth." 
 
 "And who was the some one ? " 
 
 Dorothy hesitated. 
 
 " I was telling him a little about Susie Colkett," 
 
330 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 "Yes — she 's an evil-minded one." 
 
 Anne had no suspicion of the seriousness of the 
 story Dorothy had confided to Mr. Lyndsay, and was 
 somewhat amused at the remoteness of the tragic 
 comparison. She set the thing aside, and resolved to 
 ask her brother what he meant. She was now in- 
 stantly curious as to what effect the drama had had 
 upon a woman like Dorothy. 
 
 " If Susan Colkett is as bad as Lackf Macbeth, she 
 must be an unpleasant neighbor." 
 
 "There is n't much to steal here/' said Dorothy, 
 smiling and looking around her ; " and I never did 
 see the woman I was afraid of. As for Susie, she 's 
 so bad, she 's — a fool. There would n't be much 
 harm in it if Joe was n't the worst fool of the two. 
 She 'U be the losing of that man yet. Two fools can 
 hatch a heap of mischief." 
 
 " He is n't much like Macbeth," 
 
 " I don't know that. You were asking about this 
 book, I don't read books much. I can find out peo- 
 ple right soon ; books — they puzzle me." 
 
 " But you have read it ? " 
 
 "Yes, I read it. I read it twice. I sort of set my- 
 seK to believe it the second time. There 's a heap I 
 did n't understand." 
 
 " And Lady Macbeth f" 
 
 " She was a queer one. All that howling and a- 
 carrying on of the witch-women, it 's just nonsense. 
 I got the idea those witches set it up to tell the man 
 he was to be a king : that 's straight, is n't it ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB GREEN 331 
 
 "'T is n't wholesome to get notions; they stick 
 like bur-ticks. I knew a girl down at Marysville, in 
 Georgia, and an old black woman told her, for her 
 fortune, she was to marry a thin man with heaps of 
 money, and the fool was so awful took with this that 
 she told her beau. He was a direful stout man. 
 Well, when she would n't have him, he went off and 
 tried to starve himself thin ; and the end was he feU 
 away and died, and that girl, she never got another 
 beau, fat or thin," 
 
 Ned and his aunt laughed. 
 
 "Well, what else, Dorothy? " 
 
 " That 's about all I have to say. That Macbeth 
 woman understood p'intin' her man." 
 
 " She did, indeed." 
 
 "Sometimes Hiram gets tired of being p'inted. 
 That 's how men are : they have n't got the natural 
 goodness of women. I would n't give a cent for the 
 woman that don't know a man has got to be kept 
 p'inted on to the narrow way. They 're awful easy 
 got off the track — just like Hiram: he 11 stop to 
 pick berries any time. You just take notice how Eve 
 she p'inted Adam, and it 's been going on ever since, 
 like it was natural. Maybe 't is." 
 
 Anne was enchanted. 
 
 " ShaU I leave you the book ? " 
 
 " No, I don't want it. I could n't stand two of the 
 kind. Susie Colkett 's enough. Have another cup ? " 
 
 "No ; and thank you for the roses, Dorothy." 
 
 " I had n't but just six." 
 
 " They were lovely." And now Anne was still more 
 certain how six roses came to be five. 
 
332 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "I like them right well, Miss Anne. I don't he- 
 lieve anybody likes them more than me. Seems like 
 waste, next month, to see those wild roses so thick all 
 along the river, and no one so much as to smell them. 
 Seems just pure waste, like that precious ointment 
 Mrs. Lyndsay and me were talking about the other 
 day. That always did puzzle me, that story." 
 
 " Does it 1 " said Anne. " Perhaps the flowers enjoy 
 one another — who knows ? And perhaps you and I 
 and the rest of us are not all the beings of earth. 
 Why should we think everything is meant only for 
 us?" 
 
 " Sakes alive ! Miss Anne, but you have got some 
 queer notions. To think of folks you can't see smell- 
 ing around among the flowers ! Suppose you was to 
 bump heads when you were smelling of them. It 
 gives me the creeps to think of it. Hope I '11 never 
 run against one of them. Must you go ? "Well, I 'm 
 right sorry. When you and Mrs. Lyndsay and the 
 rest go away, my old head will have a long rest." 
 
 " Shall I send you some books ? " 
 
 "No. I should n't read them. I don't set much 
 store by books, without I have some one to talk to, 
 and poor Hiram is as mum as a stone. That 's the 
 worst of our long winter. Only last night I was 
 reading the Bible, — I do read that, Miss Anne, — and 
 I came upon where Christ wrote on the sand. I just 
 said to myself I would wait about that till I saw you. 
 I did want to talk it over right away." 
 
 " And what is it you want to ask ? " 
 
 " What do you suppose Christ wrote in the sand ? " 
 
 "Who can tell that, Dorothy?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 333 
 
 "But it must have meant — Why did he do it?" 
 
 "I suppose," said Anne, thoughtfully, "that he 
 wanted to let the woman think over what he had 
 said. When you think of the eyes of Christ looking 
 at you, Dorothy, you might understand." 
 
 "I see, Miss Anne. That woman she felt awful 
 bad, I guess, and he only wanted not to seem to 
 take notice. I would n't ha' thought of that in a year, 
 not if I stayed awake all night every night." 
 
 "Why not write to me in the winter? I should 
 like that." 
 
 "Would you reaUy ? That would take the edge ofE 
 the lonesomeness. If I did n't say ' oh ! ' every now 
 and then, of evenings when the green wood cracks 
 and the sparks fly, I guess I 'd go dumb before the 
 birds come back." 
 
 " Well, Dorothy, that is settled. I shall write first. 
 Good-by!" And, with Edward, she moved slowly 
 away through the broken cross-lights of the sunset 
 glow. 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 FTER two or three weeks in the 
 forest, where "the slow-growing 
 trees do patience teach," and the 
 strong, effortless waters go by and 
 seem only merry and idle, there 
 comes to some men a sense of being 
 at home. It does not come at once. We are aU of 
 us, in our busier lives of varied work or pleasure, 
 actors in ever-changing r61es. It can hardly be other- 
 wise. Almost the simplest lives involve some use of 
 the art of the actor. In the woods, away from men 
 and their struggles and ambitions, with the absence 
 of need to be this or that, as duty, work, or social 
 claims demand, we lose the resultant state of tension, 
 of being on guard. It is readily possible to notice 
 this effect in the rapid erasure from the faces of the 
 constantly strained, intellectual workman of the lines 
 of care which mark the features of those on whom, in 
 one or another position, the world relies to carry its 
 burdens. 
 
 At first, on passing from great mental occupation to 
 the life of the forest, there is a period of unrest, of 
 vague disappointment. But soon or late, with repose 
 of mind, and the cessation of endless claims upon the 
 sentinel senses, arises a distinct and less explicable 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 335 
 
 indifference to what a fortnight back was important. 
 Onr whole world of relation is gradually changed. 
 The passion, strife, and more or less worthy motives of 
 the great camps of men shrink to valueless dimen- 
 sions, so that we look back and wonder how this or 
 that should have caused us a thought, or called forth 
 that irritability which is apt to be the offspring of 
 the unceasing strain of modern life. 
 
 At last we lose count of the days, and acquire a 
 strange impression of the remoteness of the tumult of 
 the active life from which we have fled. So complete 
 may be this feeling that at times the busy past seems 
 to fade into dreamy unreality, as with sense of relief 
 we give ourselves unresistingly to the wholesome in- 
 fluence of the woodland and the waters. Much of 
 this ease of mind must be due to the physical well- 
 being which this existence surely brings to those who 
 know how to get out of it the best it holds. 
 
 This calm of spirit, and this feeling of perfect full- 
 ness of bodily health, were what Archibald Lyndsay 
 unfailingly secured in his summer holiday. He had 
 become careful to humor the pleasant mood, and to be 
 annoyed when anything took place which forced him 
 even for an hour to return to the problems of the 
 outer world. 
 
 Such a summons had come from Anne. She had 
 not explained why she had spoken, nor could she 
 have given a reason beyond the fact that she and he 
 habitually discussed in common aU family interests, 
 and that it was not always quite safe for Anne to talk 
 of them to Margaret. That gentle little woman was 
 indisposed to have others, as she said, " come between 
 
336 WHEN ALL O^HE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 her and her children," and was in fact jealous, with a 
 steadiness of jealousy which unwillingly accepted even 
 love as an excuse, and heard, with unreasoning lack of 
 logic, explanations, advice, or comment, which another 
 might have welcomed, or at least calmly considered. 
 Thus, when Anne wished to influence Margaret, she 
 was apt to talk to the husband, who, in turn, was 
 shrewd enough to profit by the counsel without be- 
 traying the counselor. 
 
 Archibald Lyndsay's uneasiness had been extreme 
 from the time Anne had spoken of Carington, Now 
 he was in the canoe with his Avife, and was being 
 poled up-stream by the two Indians, who could un- 
 derstand but little of the rapid speech of the white 
 man, and before whom, therefore, he could talk at 
 ease. Lyndsay sat with his back to the bowman, his 
 wife facing him and lying against a pile of cushions. 
 After a little he said, speaking low : 
 
 " Margaret, has it occurred to you that possibly all 
 this unavoidable intimacy between Rose and young 
 Carington might — well, might result in some serious 
 attachment, and — " 
 
 " Of course," she broke in, with the wife's privilege 
 of apprehending more than the husband has said, 
 " of course, any one — " 
 
 " My dear Margaret, I wish you would listen until 
 I have finished — " 
 
 "Very well, dear, I will listen. I only meant to 
 remind you that I have already spoken of this, and 
 that you said it was not of any moment; and that 
 I was too much given to anticipating trouble. The 
 fact is, Archie, when you are on your holiday, you 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 337 
 
 hate to have anything serious brought to your mind, 
 and you are pretty apt just to put it aside." 
 
 Lyndsay, well versed in the fine art of matrimonial 
 diplomacy, made no instant reply to this arraignment. 
 
 " Perhaps, my good wife, we may be as to this a 
 little alike. When you are very full of a subject, or 
 have decided it in your own mind, you are inclined 
 not to hear me out." 
 
 "That may be so. I beg pardon, Archie. What 
 is it?" 
 
 " What was I saying ? Where was I ? It is like 
 taking the marker out of a book you are reading." 
 
 "You were saying it might result in a serious 
 attachment." 
 
 " Yes, that was it ; or something to that effect. 
 Perhaps I should not have been quite so definite. 
 Yes, that was it. It has seemed to me that Rose is a 
 girl who would readily be captured by — well, by a 
 man who had a chance to show force of character, 
 and this very thing has happened. You know, dear, 
 in the ordinary chances of life these opportunities 
 are rare, but — well, you understand." 
 
 She did ; and also she had a suspicion that this bit 
 of social reflection was somebody else's wisdom. 
 
 " Has Anne mentioned the matter ? " 
 
 " I did say something to her about it yesterday — 
 no, this morning." 
 
 " I would much rather, Archie, when you want to 
 discuss the children, that you come to me first." 
 
 Clearly he had brought this on himself. She went 
 on: 
 
 "Anne is ready enough to interfere without being 
 
 22 
 
338 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 given an excuse, and now, I suppose — She has not 
 talked to Rose, I trust ? " 
 
 " No, my dear. She has not and never will. That 
 would be very unlike Anne." 
 
 " I don't know. One never knows what to expect." 
 
 "But you do now. Have you noticed of late how 
 thin Anne looks ? I sometimes think she will trouble 
 none of us very long." 
 
 " I think you are rather prone to exaggerate about 
 Anne. She is n't weU, but these chronic invalids 
 outlast the healthy." Margaret had the occasional 
 hardness of the very tender. "As to Rose, it is as 
 well to comprehend the matter, and then, as the man 
 seems unexceptionable, to let Rose alone." 
 
 Mrs. Lyndsay's good sense usually kept her at the 
 end on the ways of reasonable decisions. If she 
 could always have acted without speaking, she would 
 have had more credit for wisdom. But acts are rare, 
 and speech is not; so that people were apt to say, 
 "Margaret Lyndsay is a very good woman, but not 
 always very wise." Those who knew her best did 
 not so think, and especially Lyndsay, who well under- 
 stood that great goodness cannot coexist with fool- 
 ishness, because the more valuable goodness must 
 have intelligence for one parent. There are people 
 who reflect very little about what they are going to 
 say, and a great deal about what they are about to do : 
 of this kind was Lyndsay's wife; but then, under 
 some circumstances, words are acts, or have their 
 force, and so she made mischief occasionally for her- 
 self and for others. 
 
 "I quite agree with you, my dear," he replied. "It 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 339 
 
 were best left to Rose's good sense. In the end you 
 and I are sure enough to agree." 
 
 "Perhaps you might give Anne a hint, or — shall 
 IV' She was a trifle afraid of her sister-in-law. 
 
 "It won't be required. She has quite our own 
 ideas about it " ; and then Margaret knew that Anne 
 had fuUy discussed this question with Lyndsay. She 
 did not like it, but this time held her tongue. 
 
 The sun was low when they drew to the shore, a 
 little above the point where Joe had left his dugout 
 two days before. The oblong white box of a church 
 stood on the upland, a dismal architectural symbol. 
 Its closed doors and windows, the broken steps at the 
 entrance, and the ragged, storm-worn paint looked 
 dreary enough to Lyndsay as he passed with his 
 wife through the open gateway. 
 
 " How hideous it is ! " he said. " "Would not you 
 like it, my dear Margaret, if in the fall I had our 
 boy brought home to rest among our own dead ? " 
 
 " Very much, Archie." 
 
 " It shaU be done," he said. 
 
 " Thank you." By this time they had picked their 
 way around the church amidst growth of thistles and 
 wild raspberry vines. Lyndsay led, and presently 
 they were in the scantily-peopled half-acre back of 
 the chapel. He stood a moment, confused. 
 
 '' I don't see the stone," he said. 
 
 "What? What is that?" 
 
 He turned, and said again, " I don't see it ! " 
 
 Margaret went by him swiftly. 
 
 " It was here ! here ! " and, utterly bewildered, she 
 stood, looking up at her husband, or down at the 
 
340 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 grave, and then arotmd her. "Archie ! It is gone I 
 This is — is horrible." 
 
 Lyndsay paused a moment. He was both troubled 
 and perplexed ; but the intellectual puzzle was upper- 
 most, and, as usual with him, was merely fed with 
 motives for action and decisions by the shock of 
 horror with which the thing affected him. As for 
 his wife, she looked down again at the trampled 
 ground and broken flower-stems, and then saying, 
 " What is it ? "Where is it ? " began to go to and fro, 
 irregularly, among the graves, and along the tumb- 
 ling stone wall of the inclosure. 
 
 At last she ran, like a scared thing, back to her 
 husband, threw her arms about him, and burst into 
 violent sobbing. 
 
 " Oh, my boy ! my boy ! " she cried. Her face 
 twitched, and she broke out into unnatural laughter. 
 Lyndsay caught her as she reeled to and fro. 
 
 " Take care, Margaret ! Margaret ! Be quiet. No 
 more of this ! I command you to control yourself ! " 
 
 As he spoke he Hfted her slight figure, and carried 
 her to the gate. 
 
 " Sit down," he said. " Now, no more of this ! I 
 want your clearest head — your help." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Archie," she said. " I wiU try. I — oh, 
 I could n't help it ! Don't scold me." 
 
 His eyes filled. " No, dear love, not I. But keep 
 still. I want to look. This is a mere vulgar, brutal 
 theft. "Wait a moment, can you 1 " 
 
 "Yes, but don't be long." 
 
 He walked back again to the little grave, and care- 
 fully examined the place. It was broken and battered 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ASE GEEEN 341 
 
 by large footmarks, and these led away toward the 
 low stone wall, and were lost in the underbrush be- 
 yond the broken fence-rail on the far side of the un- 
 used road. He saw that the break in the rail was 
 recent. At last he returned to his wife. 
 
 "The grave, dear, is not disturbed. Some fool 
 has stolen the stone. Come with me ; I want to go 
 through the drift yonder, and I do not want to leave 
 you alone." 
 
 She stood up, and followed him around the church, 
 and back to where he had found the rail broken. "Ah, 
 here again is a footmark," he said. At the river he 
 walked along the margin, and at length came upon 
 the place where a dugout had been drawn up and 
 where were other footprints in the wet clay margin. 
 
 "It is very simple," he said. "We shaU soon 
 know. But why any man should do such a thing I 
 cannot imagine." 
 
 " He ought to be killed," said our quiet Margaret. 
 
 "That will do for the present," he said, and then 
 called to his men to drop down from the landing 
 where he had left them. In a minute or two they 
 were at the shore. 
 
 " Now, dear," he said, as they came near, " try to 
 keep this thing a secret for the few days left us here. 
 It is an intolerable bit of wickedness, possibly of 
 malice, but this I do not believe. The more quiet we 
 can keep it, the better my chance of discovering who 
 has done it." 
 
 "I win try; but Anne!" 
 
 " Oh, Anne, of course, and Rose perhaps. It is the 
 men who must not know, and the boys." 
 
342 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB GREEN 
 
 "That is easier. What shall you do about it, 
 Archie? Who could have been so cruel?" 
 
 " Unusual crime," he said, thoughtfully, " has com- 
 monly unusual causes. I do not as yet know what I 
 shall do. And now, dear, let us not discuss it any 
 more. And wiU you tell Anne, or shall I ? " 
 
 " I would prefer to do it myself, Archie." 
 
 As the sick animal knows by instinct what wild 
 grasses it shaU eat, this woman apprehended her 
 need for a woman's strength and sure community of 
 feeling. She was as certain to fall back on Anne's 
 opinion or help in the end, or where she herself was 
 honestly puzzled, as she was to resent her sister-in- 
 law's independent assertion of her right to have a say 
 where the question was one as to which Mrs. Lyndsay 
 thought that the title mother or wife was in itself a 
 victorious defense of all decisions needed in either 
 capacity. 
 
 In this present trouble it was a woman's help she 
 wanted. She had been for the first time in her life 
 close to an hysterical attack. Without the forceful 
 tonic of her husband's call upon her self-command, 
 the discipline of years would have been of no avail : 
 she would have been entirely routed. As it was, 
 there had been sad disorder in the ranks of the gov- 
 erning qualities of a being unused to yield to the law- 
 lessness of unrestrained emotion. This nearness of 
 defeat was more or less due to the preparative soften- 
 ing influences with which she came to say a silent 
 farewell to her dead, and to the suddenness of the 
 shock of horror and of insult. 
 
 None turned to Anne Lyndsay in vain. As Lynd- 
 
WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ARE GREEN 343 
 
 say and his wife approached the cabin, where, as usual, 
 Anne was lying in her hammock, she saw at once that 
 something had gone wrong. Her long walk was ex- 
 acting the sad price of all physical exertion which 
 took her beyond the limits of the most carefully mea- 
 sured exercise. She was in great pain, and, for a half 
 hour, had been resolutely struggling to ignore it by 
 forcing herself to give deliberate attention to a difficult 
 passage in the second part of " Faust." She dropped 
 her dictionary as they came up, put a marker in the 
 page she had been reading, and rose on one elbow. 
 
 " Go and talk to Anne," said Lyndsay. " Is Rose 
 still out, sister ? " 
 
 "Yes; and the boys, except Ned. He is iu the 
 wood, somewhere. I am all alone, Margaret. "What 
 is it, dear ? " 
 
 " Something very unpleasant has happened, Anne ; 
 nothing serious — I mean, no personal calamity. Mar- 
 garet wiU explain." And so saying, he went into 
 the cabin, while Mrs. Lyndsay sat down on a low 
 stool, and, letting her head fall on Anne's bosom, 
 began to cry. But this time she had herself well in 
 hand, and the burst of tears was wholesome, as Anne 
 instantly knew. She let her hand fall over Margaret's 
 neck. 
 
 " Have it out, dear," she said. " A man always says, 
 'Don't cry'; a woman says, 'Cry; it will help you.' 
 Cry as much as you want to. God knew our wants 
 when he gave us tears. No ; don't try to explain, — 
 not yet, not yet." And the reassuring hand put back 
 a stray lock of hair, and rested in tender caress on the 
 wet cheek. 
 
344 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 Both were still for a few minutes, save for an occa- 
 sional sob. 
 
 " Now I am better, Anne. I can talk now. How 
 well you know ! — what is it, dear ? " she added, ab- 
 ruptly, for a brief exclamation, " Oh, my God ! " broke 
 from Anne's lips. She was in the extremity of phy- 
 sical pain. The tone and words were unusual, as com- 
 ing from these lips, and Margaret, instantly turning 
 aside from her own trouble, caught the look of suffering 
 on the other woman's face. She wiped her eyes hastily. 
 
 "Are you ill, Anne ? " 
 
 " Yes. Oh, not ill ! I had a stitch in my poor 
 old side." Then she laughed low. " I am sure it is 
 years older than the rest of me. Get me your smell- 
 ing-salts." 
 
 Margaret got up at once and went into the cabin. 
 As for Anne, smelling-salts, hot-water bags, sedatives, 
 and, in fact, the whole armament of the invalid, were 
 to her altogether unpleasant. But now she was in 
 some want of a minute to herself. She got it, and 
 more, for Margaret was some time before she came 
 out with the smelling-salts and a flask. 
 
 "No, dear," said Anne; "no brandy." She used 
 the smelling-salts, and returned them to her sister- 
 in-law. "I hate all scented things. I am better 
 now. Tell me all about it, and don't hurry. What 
 is it?" 
 
 " We went up to my boy's grave, and, Anne, Anne, 
 some one had trampled it all over — trod on my — 
 my dead ! " 
 
 " Well, dear. Take care ! Don't give way, or you 
 win go to pieces, There ! What else ? " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 345 
 
 "And some cruel brute has taken away the tomb- 
 stone. It was not there. Do you understand ? " she 
 cried, with fierce energy. "They stole it! It is 
 gone ! " 
 
 Anne understood weU enough ; but the fact, as 
 told her, was so strange, so unlocked for, that she 
 was amazed for a brief time beyond power of com- 
 ment. The next moment all her heart went out to 
 the mother at her side. 
 
 " It is horrible ! " she cried. " Oh, for me, even, 
 for me ! And for you, what must it be ? " She saw, 
 as few would have done, the broken flower-fence, the 
 rudely profaned and trampled grave, the gap in the 
 earth where the stone had been. " For me, horrible — 
 but, my dear God ! what must it have been for you ! " 
 
 " Yes ; I am his mother ! " She was moved because 
 Anne did not pretend to share the maternal inten- 
 sity of her feelings. " Only a mother could know. 
 Archie says I must not think about it ; but that is 
 beyond my power — I must think about it. "Who 
 could have done it ? I can't see any reason in the 
 theft. Do you think it could have been to annoy us, 
 or to get a reward ? I — " 
 
 " No," said Anne. " Neither." 
 
 " Then what could it have been ? There must have 
 been a motive." 
 
 " Yes, there must have been." 
 
 "And what ? "We are liked, I think, on the river. 
 We do try to help these people." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Who could have done it ? " 
 
 "JoeColkett!" 
 
346 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 " Archibald ! Archibald ! " cried Margaret, instantly- 
 rising. He came out at once. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Anne says Colkett took it ! " 
 
 " What does this mean, Anne ? " he said. 
 
 " Only this : Rose told us yesterday, you remember, 
 that Colkett had been to see Dorothy about an inscrip- 
 tion for a board to set over his wife's children. You 
 heard her speak of it." 
 
 "Tes; but what then?" 
 
 " That man is the thief ! " 
 
 " You are a most astonishing woman, Anne. What 
 reason have you 1 You must have a reason." 
 
 " I shall have ; but now, as yet, I have none." 
 
 " I am sorry, then. You have quite upset Margaret." 
 
 " No. I saw the man take it." 
 
 " Saw him ? Nonsense — I beg pardon, dear, T don't 
 quite mean that." He was nice always in his home 
 ways with the women he loved. "I mean that you 
 have spoken unadvisedly." 
 
 " Yes, I had no advice from within or without, for 
 that matter ; but I know that man is the thief." 
 
 " It is a serious charge." 
 
 " It is. When you come to think it over, you wUl 
 agree with me." 
 
 Lyndsay was silent a moment. Then he called, 
 " Tom ! Tom ! I am going up to the Island Camp ; 
 put the canoe in the water." 
 
 " What are you going to do, Archie ? " asked Mar- 
 garet. 
 
 " I want to talk to Carington. He knows all these 
 people j has known them for years." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 347 
 
 " Shall you tell him what my own belief is ? " said 
 Anne. 
 
 "Certainly! Why not?" 
 
 " But," exclaimed Margaret, " do you not think — " 
 
 " No. No, dear, I don't think at all as yet. I have 
 no material for thinking — very little, at least." He 
 spoke with unhabitual impatience. " Evidence is what 
 we want." 
 
 He was annoyed by this mysterious crime in the 
 midst of his idle hours ; troubled by his wife's distress; 
 and finally, if but to a slight extent, irritated at 
 Anne's unreasoning dash at a decisive conclusion. 
 Perhaps he was the more disturbed because, on hear- 
 ing her, he had at once begun to put together facts, 
 always within his own knowledge, which he felt should 
 have caused him to have gone, under guidance of 
 reason, toward the goal which she had reached at a 
 bound. 
 
 "I shall be back in three or four hours. Do not 
 keep the dinner waiting. Good-by." 
 
 " But, Archibald, do listen to me. It is not about 
 — about this — " And she followed him as she spoke, 
 and, at the edge of the cliff, said a few words hastily, 
 but with earnestness. 
 
 " No," he said, so that Anne heard. " I see — I see, 
 of course ; but there is no help for it ; and, after all, 
 Carington is not a man — " And the rest was lost to 
 Anne's ear. 
 
 "Perhaps not," said Margaret. "I suppose you 
 know best." And she went back to Anne. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 5 HEN Lyndsay walked up the beach 
 at the Island Camp, it was already 
 dark. In the dinner-tent, on camp- 
 stools, the two men were gaily dis- 
 cussing such events as in a fishing 
 camp are always uppermost — how 
 this or that salmon behaved, the weather, the water, 
 or the eternal black-flies. 
 
 The cook had just set on the table a dish of broiled 
 salmon, and said, as he did so : 
 
 "There 's a canoe at the beach — Mr. Lyndsay, I 
 think." 
 
 " Come to ask your intentions, Fred," said EUett, 
 laughing. 
 
 " Hush, I hear him coming. I wonder what it is 
 he wants." As Carington spoke, he threw open the 
 fly of the tent. "Come in, Mr. Lyndsay; you are 
 just in time. Bring the soup back, Jim." 
 
 "Thanks. How are you, Mr. EUett? Yes, I will 
 dine with you, and with pleasure. No soup, thank 
 you," and he sat down. 
 
 For a while there was the ordinary talk of the 
 river, and when, flnally, they were left with the to- 
 bacco and cigars, Lyndsay having declined the rye 
 whisky, he said: 
 
 348 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GBBEN 340 
 
 " I came up to get a little lielp from yoti. We have 
 had to-day a very singular and quite unpleasant in- 
 cident. There is no one can overhear us 1 " 
 
 " No one. I need hardly say how heartily we are 
 at your service. Pray go on. May I ask what has 
 troubled you 1 " 
 
 "Of course. I came to tell you, and then to ask 
 your help or advice. You know all these river men ? " 
 
 "Almost all, even the lumber-gangs." 
 
 "I thought so. I shall be brief. Last year we 
 buried my youngest child here. I had set up at the 
 head of the grave a simple white stone. To-day I 
 went up with Mrs. Lyndsay to see that it was all in 
 order. To our horror the stone was gone. Of course 
 my wife was painfully disturbed. The grave was 
 trampled; the wild rose-bushes we had set around in 
 a little thicket were beaten down. That is the whole 
 story. I am, as you may fancy, greatly annoyed. I 
 felt that, with your knowledge of the men hereabouts, 
 you might possibly give me some clue. I owe yoa 
 every apology," and he turned to EUett, " for thrust- 
 ing so personal a calamity into the hours of a holiday, 
 but—" 
 
 "You could not have found two people more 
 willing." 
 
 "Thank you." 
 
 " Let me ask you a few questions," said Carington. 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 The young man reflected a moment, and then in 
 quick succession put his queries. 
 
 " Have you gone over the place 1 " 
 
 " Yes," and he told the little he had seen. 
 
350 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 "Was it a dugout?" 
 
 « Yes, I think so." 
 
 " I will look to-morrow, early. Were there several 
 people ? " 
 
 "The foot-marks seemed alike — the usual many- 
 nailed boot. I did not measure them." 
 
 " I wUl. The beach is clay up there. Has any one 
 cause to injure you ? " 
 
 " No one. My wife has been, as usual, all goodness 
 to these poor people." 
 
 " I see no possible motive," said Ellett, 
 
 "Wait a bit, Oliver. The grave had not been 
 opened ? " 
 
 " Great Heaven ! No." 
 
 "Why should a man want a tombstone?" said 
 Ellett. " An insane person might have done it." 
 
 "No," returned Carington, thoughtfully. "No, 
 there are none here. No, some one wanted that stone. 
 Why ! — by George, I hate to suspect the poor devH ! " 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 "It is a mere guess, a suspicion. I have an idea 
 that Joe Colkett stole that stone." 
 
 "It is a little odd. That, exactly, is my sister's 
 conclusion." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " Yes. Being a woman, she had no reason to give, 
 or none worth anything ; and yet I myself am enough 
 inclined to agree with her to want to make sure as to 
 whether there is any evidence to be had. It is a thing 
 to punish." 
 
 "I think so. The man is in pretty sore straits 
 about money. But it cannot be any motive involving 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 351 
 
 money, and yet — however, it is useless to talk about 
 it. The first thing is to go over the ground with care. 
 Let me do that — early to-morrow. Ah, to-day is 
 Wednesday; I must go to Mackenzie to-morrow. That 
 I can't let wait. A man is to meet me there about 
 my cabin. Can this thing rest a day ? " 
 
 " Yes, I shall stay over Sunday. We had meant to 
 go out on Saturday." 
 
 " Then I will call late to-morrow night for your boy 
 — as we come back, I mean." 
 
 " One moment : I have thought best not to teU. the 
 boys. It can do no good." 
 
 " None. On our return toward camp, I will man- 
 age to send Jack off, and will myself slip down to Col- 
 kett's, and will look about me. If necessary, I can 
 talk it out frankly. I think I could know in five min- 
 utes all the man knows, if he is in the thing at all." 
 
 " But you won't forget my warning, Mr. Carington. 
 Joe is a poor sodden dog, but the woman is a devil." 
 
 Carington smiled. " Oh, I shall have my rifle ; and, 
 after all, what could a woman do ? There is no man- 
 ner of risk." He did not say that the notion of there 
 being some peril in the matter made the enterprise 
 more attractive. There were other motives also which 
 were not disagreeable, and of these, too, he made no 
 mention. 
 
 " Well, promise me to be on your guard." 
 
 "It all seems rather absurd, but I shall keep my 
 eyes open. I may be very late to-morrow night. Tell 
 Jack, and, by the way, i£ it is late, I shall have to 
 keep your money untU Friday evening, or Ellett can 
 take it to you. Send me the draft to-night." 
 
362 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 " I have it with me " ; and he handed it across the 
 table. 
 
 "I think," said Carington, "I would ignore the 
 whole matter until I see you on Friday night. I 
 would fish, as usual." 
 
 "I think so." He had asked advice and help, and 
 this very decisive young man had certainly given it. 
 " Thank you a thousand times," he said, as he rose ; 
 " you have really relieved me," and then he went away. 
 
 In his canoe he reflected a little on the mental peculi- 
 arity which made Anne and Carington prompt to 
 conclude where he had been so tardy in reaching a 
 decision. Anne had once said of him that his mind 
 lacked wings, but was very sure on its legs. He 
 reached home late, and rather weary. Anne said Eose 
 had been told, and that Margaret had behaved admir- 
 ably ; also that the boys had no suspicion of the events 
 which had distressed their elders. 
 
 The lives of men are lived under the limited mon- 
 archy of circumstance. Within this, men's instincts 
 and personal qualities — in a word, character — de- 
 cide how they deal with the stringency of events, or 
 meet the despotism of changeless natural laws. 
 
 Carington was about to feel the results of a combi- 
 nation of influences, some within and some outside 
 of those due to mental and moral peculiarities entirely 
 his own. 
 
 What I saw in an idle hour may serve to illustrate 
 my meaning. The reader has my benevolent per- 
 mission to leave it unread. I was once lying on my 
 couch of spruce in a rude log-cabin on the Alligash 
 River. It was raining heavily, and we had left our 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 363 
 
 tents awhile for the more perfect shelter of a deserted 
 log-cabin where the lumbermen had wintered years 
 before my coming. Apparently for reasons as good 
 as our own, many live things had come hither — some 
 for a permanent home, and some, like Noah's menag- 
 erie, for temporary protection. A splendidly con- 
 structed spider's net occupied the open space where a 
 window-pane had been. The three remaining panes 
 were intact. It was a happy thought of that spider : 
 when flies at noon sought the cool shade of the house, 
 this open pane seemed to offer a way, and, when the 
 sun fell, the path of exit was as inviting. The net was 
 well stocked, as I saw, but mostly these corpses were 
 dead shells, out of which the succulent meats had 
 been taken. Nevertheless, the deadly retiarius lay 
 coiled in a corner, as eager as if he had never had a 
 breakfast. As to the flies, who were many, they seemed 
 to be as ignorant of the net's thin lines as men are of 
 the fatal meshes which circumstance spins in the way 
 of human flies, or which character weaves when the 
 fly is his own spider. The spaces between the anchor- 
 ing cables were wide. Most of the flies went through 
 quite unaware how near they had been to death. 
 Some got into the toils and struggled out, and then 
 went and sat down in dark corners, and reflected on 
 free-will and predestination. At last a queer-look- 
 ing, yellowish fly got into trouble. He was physically 
 odd-looking, and as to mental organization clearly 
 distinct from the herd of flies. He was evidently 
 adventurous and on a holiday. He was in and out of 
 the room, between the long net lines, half a dozen 
 times. " That is luck ! " said I. " The goddess "Wyrda 
 
 23 
 
S54 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE &EEEN 
 
 has smiled on him I " At last he struck the net, and 
 was caught. In place of struggling, he kept stiU a 
 moment, while the spider ran out and made a recon- 
 naissance. Then my fly gave a kick and a flutter, 
 and was off and away. "Luck and strength," said I. 
 By and by he sailed past me, and sat down to dine on 
 the sweet margins of some ponds of molasses — the 
 relics of our lunch. Being a little too eager, he got 
 his legs in the sweets, and then his wings. Not liking 
 this, he flew away, and, after a disorderly flight, made 
 for the window, where he hit the center of the net. 
 This time I got up to observe the affair closely. He 
 made a brave fight, but the molasses on his sticky legs 
 was the determining circumstance. The net-thrower 
 crawled up with caution, when, of a sudden, a great 
 bee, humming in its flight, went like a Mini6 ball 
 through the net, and the spider fled, and the fly tum- 
 bled out — and this was the end. I felt as if I had 
 been a superior being who, from the vantage of a 
 higher sphere, had been watching one of earth's num- 
 berless dramas. He would have seen how instincts, 
 character, and circumstance combine to determine the 
 fates of men. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII 
 
 HERB are few things more interest- 
 ing than to observe in a quiet fam- 
 ily the effects of an explosion of 
 the unusual. Assuredly, what had 
 happened to the Lyndsays was un- 
 common. There is family charac- 
 ter just as there is national character. Individuality 
 is more or less dominated by it. Among those with 
 whom we are dealing the endless discussions which 
 in some groups of human beings are wasted on a 
 matter of annoyance — a calamity or a grievance — 
 were quite unknown. At need they talked over their 
 troubles or difficulties, and put them aside when de- 
 cisions were once attained. 
 
 Anne was fond of saying, " Talk is a wedge which 
 widens troubles. "When you think, you are talking 
 to yourself alone, and are responsible for the conse- 
 quences; it is hard so to weigh words as to know 
 what weight they will have for others." And thus it 
 was that even about her most unbearable pain she 
 said nothing, and disliked all discussions which led 
 to no working opinion. Mrs. Lyndsay alone was 
 given to seeking sympathy in her small ailments; 
 but Anne, as she herself once observed, " wore neither 
 her heart nor her liver on her sleeve." And this was 
 
356 WHEN ALL THE "WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 the general tone. If talk was needed to settle a 
 thing, there was enough, and no more. Lyndsay 
 liked to say, "And now we wiU put it aside, my dear." 
 He had thus ended a talk with his wife, who was 
 disposed to say far more. 
 
 To all of them the unpleasant event I have re- 
 corded brought a sense of horror. But the primary 
 mood of anger or disgust gave way to some other 
 form of mental or moral activity, which varied with 
 the person. Lyndsay simply and directly occupied 
 himself with the slight evidence he had, and en- 
 deavored to reach a conclusion as to the criminal, 
 Anne fell to thinking with interest of the motives of 
 the criminal, and as to what possible temptation 
 could make her desire to do such an act. The mother 
 remained in a state of somewhat lessened emotional 
 disturbance, wanting some one to talk to of it all, but 
 finding none save Rose, who had no power to repress 
 her. 
 
 Thus Thursday passed quietly enough at the CliflE 
 Camp, Mi\ Lyndsay wisely went a-fishing, and took 
 Rose. It was pitiably true that, for Mrs. Lyndsay, 
 the incident of the day before had renewed the grief 
 which time had begun to heal. She wondered how 
 Archie could go and fish. She even made a mild at- 
 tempt to keep her daughter at home; but Lyndsay 
 resolutely persisted, and had his way. Left to her- 
 self, Margaret devoted the morning to coddling Anne, 
 which resulted, for the latter, in a condition of re- 
 strained irritability which was almost too much even 
 for this heroic woman. At last she took refuge ia 
 her room. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 357 
 
 Jack spent the day in cleaning his rifle, and Dick 
 in stuffing a kingfisher, while Ned bothered him 
 with questions which not Solomon could have an- 
 swered. As to Carington, he asked BUett to go up 
 to the church and make careful measurements of the 
 footsteps, as this, by relieving him of the task, would 
 enable him to get away earlier for his long paddle to 
 Mackenzie. 
 
 At dawn, Carington, with his two men, in their 
 canoe, went by the ChfE Camp, where all was peace- 
 fully stiU. 
 
 At the little town he made his own arrangements 
 for the building of his cabin in the fall, and cashed a 
 draft for himself and one for Mr. Lyndsay. The 
 seven hundred dollars of Canadian notes he rolled 
 into a tight bundle and put in his breeches-pocket. 
 Then, after a hasty meal and a little rest, he tTirned 
 back for the journey up the river. 
 
 There was some paddling to do until they reached 
 swift water, and here he " spelled " his bowmen, tak- 
 ing a turn at poling, and pushed on. Three miles an 
 hour is very good speed at this business, and thus, as 
 the way was long, it was far into the night before 
 they reached the Cliff Camp. Every one else but 
 Jack was in bed. He had taken his blanket and gun, 
 and settled himself patiently at the foot of the cliff. 
 
 " Is that you, Nimrod ? " said Carington. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You have had a long wait. Is your father up ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then I must keep this money untU Ellett can 
 give it to him to-morrow. Jump in. It is late," 
 
358 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 In five mimites the boy was asleep in tlie bottom 
 of the canoe. Carington began to think over what he 
 should do next day about the tombstone business. 
 
 At his own camp-ground it took him some five 
 minutes to restore Jack, for a time, to the world of 
 the wakeful, and Carington himself was glad enough 
 to find his own couch. 
 
 Before dawn, Michelle touched him on the shoulder. 
 
 " You are pretty hard to wake, Mr. Carington." 
 
 "Am I? What is it? Oh, we are going after 
 bears. Hang the bears ! " He rubbed his eyes, sat 
 up, and said to Michelle, "Wake that boy. It wiU 
 take ten minutes." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 After Jack's blanket was pulled away, and he him- 
 self rolled on to the tent-floor, he began to wake up. 
 
 " Coffee ready and lunch in knapsack, Michelle?" 
 
 "AU right, sir." 
 
 Carington got up, and, laughing at the guide's dif- 
 ficulty in reviving Jack, went down to the beach, had 
 a cold — a very cold — dip, and in a few minutes was 
 dressed and ready, while Jack, but half awake, was 
 making a boy's still briefer toilet. 
 
 Meanwhile Carington looked into BUett's tent, and, 
 seeing him sound asleep, hesitated a moment as to 
 waking him, in order to give into his charge the 
 money he had drawn. As he was about to speak, 
 Michelle called out: 
 
 " Halloa ! Canoe 's adrift ! Take care. Jack. Pad- 
 dle her in." 
 
 Carington ran out of the tent, and saw that Jack 
 was again ashore. He had put his gun and other 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 359 
 
 traps in the boat, and then, jumping in hastily to ar- 
 range them, had caused the canoe to slip off into the 
 current. The slight break thus caused in Carington's 
 mental processes made him for the time forget his 
 intention. Ten minutes later he remembered it, as 
 they were flying down-stream, and his hand chanced 
 to fall on the bulging packet of notes in his pocket. 
 
 " Confound it ! " he exclaimed. " I forgot it. It is 
 hardly worth while to go back, Jack. I meant to 
 leave the money I drew with Mr. Ellett. I fancy it 
 is safe enough." Then he proceeded to secure the 
 pocket with a pin, saying, " We won't go back. It is 
 late, as it is." 
 
 " I was thinking that," said Jack, to whom bears 
 were of far more importance than the balance in the 
 national treasury. 
 
 " I meant to wake myself earlier. Jack ; but I was 
 pretty tired. Usually I can wake when I please." 
 
 "I did think you were up, sir," said Michelle. 
 "You were a-saying things about roses when I 
 touched you." 
 
 "Was I?" 
 
 " Yes. Just, ' Rose— Eose'— like that." 
 
 " That 's queer," remarked Jack. 
 
 " No. I am rather fond of flowers, more so than 
 most men. By the way. Jack, you are a first-class 
 performer in your sleep. If the wedding-guest had 
 heard your loud bassoon, I don't know what he would 
 have done." 
 
 " Who was the ' wedding-guest ' ? " 
 
 " Ask Miss Rose." 
 
 "I shall say you told me to ask." 
 
360 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 " That is hardly necessary. Read the poem — ' The 
 Ancient Mariner/ I mean." 
 
 " I don't care much for poetry stuff." 
 
 " Don't you ? Well, you were pretty musical about 
 3 A, M." Then he played a little with the matter of 
 his rosy dream. "I think, Jack, that very often 
 dreams like this of mine seem to be the outcome of 
 some quite trivial event rather than of the larger things 
 of Uf e. A day or two back I was trying to pick a rose, 
 and pricked my finger. I did n't get the rose, but 
 I — meant to. I suppose that thorn stuck into some 
 pincushion of the mind. Odd, was n't it ? " 
 
 "I dreamed about bears for a week after that 
 beastly circus on the beach." 
 
 " No wonder," and they laughed. " I don't think 
 dreams very interesting. Jack ; but twice in my life I 
 have chanced to see dreams produce some very 
 strange results. See how the mists are melting 
 away." 
 
 " What was it about — the dreams ? " 
 
 "One, Jack, I cannot tell you. The other I can. 
 I had a guide in the Wind River country who used 
 to talk in his sleep. Several times when we were 
 alone in the hUls he woke me up by the noise he 
 made. I used to whistle to quiet him long enough 
 to give me a chance to faU asleep. It is a good re- 
 cipe to stop snoring. I tried it on you." 
 
 " Dick can beat me all hollow ! But please go on, 
 Mr. Carington." 
 
 " Well, one night he kept at it so long, and talked 
 so plainly, that I gave up in despair and listened. 
 ge was unusually excised this time, J heard hiqa 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 361 
 
 say, ' Kill him ! Kill him I ' Then he groaned and 
 rolled over and groaned so that I thought he had a 
 nightmare. At last he sang o.ut, 'Let me go! I 
 did n't do it.' After this I whistled ' Yankee Doodle,' 
 and it acted like a charm. Next morning at break- 
 fast I said, ' Whom were you murdering in the night, 
 and were they reaUy going to hang you, BiUy?' 
 "When I said this he looked at me sharply, and I saw 
 he did not like it. He asked what he had said. I 
 thought it best to say as little as possible, and so 
 replied, 'You might have been killing bears, BiUy.' 
 I saw he did not believe me. AU day long that fel- 
 low was restless and uneasy. He twice missed an 
 elk, and he was a perfect shot." 
 
 " That was bad," remarked Jack. 
 
 "That was n't all. "When I woke next morning 
 BUI was gone. I never saw him again, and I had a 
 pretty hard time getting back." 
 
 " Do you think he had killed somebody ? " 
 
 " Probably. Polks' consciences seem to get a grip 
 of them in sleep, and to go to sleep themselves in the 
 daytime. It 's a queer enough story." 
 
 As they talked the paddles were busy, the mist 
 melted, and they ran swiftly down-stream a mUe or 
 more below the Cliff Camp. Here, at a bend, where 
 the river made a bold curve to the northwest, they 
 ran ashore. 
 
 " That will do, Michelle. Be on the lookout about 
 six or seven to put us over. Come, Jack. Give me 
 the knapsack. Do not load yet." As he spoke they 
 left the shore, and Carington, leading, struck into 
 the woods. 
 
362 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GKEEN 
 
 They walked slowly through a tangled wilderness 
 of trees, dead and alive, set in perplexing under- 
 growth, Carington explaining his plans to the hoy 
 as they tramped along. 
 
 " "We shall go up the hill to left, over the crest and 
 down on to Loon Lake. It is a mere pond, but the 
 berries are thick on the far side, and, although now 
 there are none, the bears have a habit of going there. 
 We shall read our fortune clear when we get on the 
 shore." 
 
 " By the tracks on the edge ? " 
 
 "Yes. The deep print of the foot makes little 
 pools ; and if the water in these is stiU muddy, the 
 prints are recent; if not, we shall get no chance." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " Out in the Rockies we used to stir up the mud in 
 the old prints with a stick so as to fool the other 
 fellows. It is an ancient trick. By the way, Jack, 
 at evening I shaU set you on the ox-track to the west 
 of Colkett's. I saw two porcupines there a day or 
 two back. I will go straight down the mountain to 
 Colkett's. I shall be but a few minutes at Joe's. I 
 want to arrange about lumber for my cabin. If you 
 see no game, don't wait, but take the cross track to 
 Colkett's. You can't miss it. It starts back of the 
 big boulder in the clearing on the left, as you face 
 the river." 
 
 "And you wiU meet me ? " 
 
 " Yes. Perhaps before you quit the open." 
 
 " I understand." 
 
 " The road does n't go aU the way to Joe's, but I 
 shall be on it before you." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 363 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Be very careful how you shoot. Colkett's is not 
 far, and the river in the other direction none too 
 wide, and rifle-balls travel a long way." 
 
 " Yes, I will be careful." 
 
 "And don't carry your gun that way. So — that 's 
 better." 
 
 It was full noon and cloudy as they walked noise- 
 lessly down the slope to the lonely little pond in the 
 lap of the hiUs. At last they paused among a mass 
 of boulders. 
 
 " Now, keep stUl. I ordered a man up last evening 
 late to put a black kelt on the beach at the far side, 
 where a brook comes in. I fancied it might fetch Mr. 
 Bear." So saying, Carington adjusted his glass, and 
 searched with care the curved line of the farther shore. 
 
 " Look there ! It 's a good half-mile or more." 
 
 The boy took the glass. 
 
 "There are some water-weeds in a bunch, and 
 above — oh, a black thing ! A bear ! " 
 
 " Come," said Carington, " you will want a skin 
 for Miss Rose. Come." 
 
 The boy went after him, and the long walk around 
 the lake began. The way was hard. 
 
 " We must go well back up over that hill, and then 
 down the gorge which carries the stream." 
 
 At times the elder person glanced back at the noise- 
 less, tough little fellow. " Tired ? " he said, as they 
 broke with care through the alders. 
 
 "Awful," said Jack. 
 
 At the foot of the hill, as they left the lake, they 
 came on a bit of old burnt land, and here the way 
 
364 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE aEEBN 
 
 was even harder. Myriads of dead pines, spruces, 
 and firs, interlaced in tumbled ruin, made progress 
 difficult. Now it was a giddy walk, twelve feet in 
 air, along a slippery trunk, now a crawl under spiky 
 and splintered stems. Again Carington looked back, 
 and began to understand the value of the qualities of 
 endurance, strength, and grip of purpose, with which 
 the boy pursued his way. 
 
 At length, hot, brier-scratched, and weary, they came 
 out on the hilltop. Jack was for immediate march, 
 but Carington said: 
 
 "No. Get cool; you could not hit a barn-door 
 now. Lie down a bit. You will want to be fully 
 rested. As for me, I am haK dead," and he dropped 
 on the scant soU. " Fine, is n't it ? " 
 
 A great sea of lesser hills was all around them, 
 with here and there a rare sparkle of silver from dis- 
 tant windings of the river. 
 
 As for Jack, who lay on the summit, his eyes were 
 eagerly searching the ravine down which they were 
 to go. 
 
 "A friend of mine — oh, drop that bear, Jack; 
 he 'U keep — a friend of mine says that to enjoy a 
 view like this one must walk up. He has a notion 
 that somehow the exercise absolutely increases your 
 mental power to get the best out of it." 
 
 Jack was not clear as to this, and he said so. 
 
 " I don't understand it myself. I do not know why 
 it is true, but it is true — for me, at least." 
 
 " Maybe because it 's hard work," said Jack. 
 
 He could not get his idea into proper shape, not 
 having Ned's facility of expression, 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 366 
 
 " Yes," said Carington. " "We like what is diiBcult 
 to get ; but that is not all of it. I suppose, if bears 
 were as easy to get as omnibus horses, neither you 
 nor I would go after bears." 
 
 " I guess that 's so." 
 
 " What do you want to be, Jack, when you grow up ? " 
 
 "I shall go to West Point." 
 
 "Well, and after ? The army is not a career, now- 
 adays." 
 
 " But there is first-rate sport in the West." 
 
 "Yes; but that is for one's idle hours. Life is a 
 pretty big thing. Master Jack." 
 
 " What do you do, Mr. Carington 1 " 
 
 " I build bridges, lay out railroads, generally scrim- 
 mage with nature to make life easier for man. How 
 would you like that ? " 
 
 " I don't know." He had a clever lad's indisposition 
 to commit himself. "Is it easy? — I mean, to learn. 
 I hate books — school-books, I mean." 
 
 " No ; it is n't easy. But it is work for a man. GrO 
 to a school of engineering for three or four years 
 when you are older, and then come and help me 
 to build bridges. All this energy of yours — all this 
 hatred of defeat — this — well, you have the whole 
 outfit, as we say in the Rockies, but it is no good un- 
 less you know how to do things. The fellows that 
 know and have no steam, I don't care about. Now, 
 we want that bear, don't we ? " 
 
 " Rather ! " 
 
 "And first, we know how to get him, and then 
 we want him so tremendously that torn breeches, 
 scratched legs, and the like, make no kind of differ- 
 
366 WHEN AI^L THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 ence. Just patent that combination, and, as my friends 
 down in Carolina say, ' there you are.' " 
 
 The small skeptic returned, " But we are n't there 
 yet." 
 
 "We will be. The wind is up the gorge. See 
 those ferns, how they sway up-hiU. He can get no 
 scent of us." 
 
 " That 's so. I would n't have thought of that." 
 
 " It is intelligence against mere instinct. Are you 
 easily lost in the woods. Jack? I am. I have no 
 resource except incessant observation of landmarks." 
 
 Jack looked up in surprise. "I — lost? No, I 
 never get lost." 
 
 "ButisthatreaUy so?" 
 
 " Yes. I wander off anywhere. It is easy to find 
 your way here ; but in Maine it is harder. I was up 
 with father two years ago, at the Parmaccini lakes, 
 and he almost always had to ask me the way." 
 
 " How do you know it ? " 
 
 "I don't. I go home." 
 
 "Like a dog?" 
 
 " I suppose so. I can't tell." 
 
 "But do you not unconsciously take note of the 
 sun, and the moss on the north side of the trees, and 
 so guide yourself?" 
 
 "No — I may; I am not sure. I only know I can 
 get back, and I go pretty straight. Father says it is 
 instinct." 
 
 " That may be. I have seen guides who could go 
 through a wood without fail, and unerringly take 
 you to camp in the darkest night. They cannot teU 
 how they do it." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 367 
 
 " I never thought much about it," said Jack. 
 
 "It is worth thinking about. You see most 
 instincts are intelligently aided in man. The thing 
 is to keep your instincts and help them with mind ; 
 but I fancy you wUl lose yours as you cease to use 
 them. What you seem to have is like the instinct 
 which brings the salmon back to his own river, the 
 homing pigeon to its own cote, and the cat you may 
 have tried to lose to its own kitchen, miles across the 
 unknown streets of a great city." 
 
 " Can you explain it ? " 
 
 " No," replied Carington. He was interested in the 
 talk. " No, it is incomprehensible. There are organs 
 in the ear which tell us the point from which sounds 
 come, and the eye is a help ; but there is over and 
 above all, this instinct of direction, which guides the 
 bird, or, still more wonderfully, the fish, and to some 
 degree, I suppose, the men who have this capacity. 
 I was once lost in a cave in Virginia. After an hour 
 of turning and twisting in long passages, and among 
 forests of stalactites, two hundred feet underground, 
 the guide of a sudden got altogether bewildered and 
 terribly alarmed. A boy who was with us said, ' I 
 can get out,' and, by Jove, Jack, he took us back, 
 and in and out, and at last into the open air. He 
 never paused." 
 
 " That was a scrape. I wish I had been with you." 
 
 " Do you ? I prefer not to try it again. Are you 
 rested?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then come." And they went over the slope, and 
 began to go down the bed of the scantily fed brook. 
 
368 WHEN ALL fHE WOODS AHE 6EEEN 
 
 In a half-hour they came to a small basin whence the 
 water fell into the pool below. Creeping cautiously, 
 they reached the edge and looked down on the muddy 
 shore. The bear had gone. Then Carington took 
 his glass. 
 
 "The tracks go to the left," he said. "Come, but 
 be careful." 
 
 Slowly and in silence they scrambled down to the 
 edge of the underbrush. Suddenly Carington caught 
 the boy's arm and drew him back. 
 
 " Hush ! " he murmured. " Softly. There ! " and 
 parting the bushes, he pointed through them. A large 
 bear was slowly moving along the curve of shore, 
 not forty feet away. " Your bear, sir ; behind the left 
 shoulder. Steady ! " 
 
 "No — you, sir!" 
 
 " Quick ! You will lose him. Steady now ! Well 
 done ! " he cried aloud, as the boy's rifle rang out, and 
 the bear fell, rose, and fell again. " No ! Don't run 
 in ! Load ! Now wait a moment ! " And, so saying, 
 he moved along the beach. But poor Bruin was dead. 
 
 " Clean shot. Master Jack ! " 
 
 " By George ! " cried the boy. " What fun ! I 
 thought — I was awful afraid you meant to shoot him 
 yourself." 
 
 " That is not my way with my friends. I hate sel- 
 fish sportsmen. When you have killed as many bears 
 as I have, we will toss up for the first shot. He is 
 dead enough." And Carington nudged the beast in 
 the ribs with his gun-barrel. 
 
 Jack inspected his prey with care. " We must get 
 his skin." 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 369 
 
 " Of course. Got a knife ? » 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then help me." 
 
 It was a long business, and the sun was well down 
 when they were done, and the skin packed in a tight 
 roll on Carington's back. 
 
 " "We will hang up the meat and send up for it early- 
 to-morrow. It is poor, at best. Come, Jack. I think 
 you are an inch taller. You have killed a bear !" 
 
 " Just have n't I ? " said the boy. 
 
 "And you are going to be an engineer," added 
 Carington, laughing. 
 
 "I don't know," said Jack. "Would Michelle tan 
 the skin for me?" 
 
 " Yes. It shall be smoke-tanned and sent down to 
 you. Once smoke-tanned, it is fairly moth-proof, and 
 you will find it does not get stiff after a wetting. 
 The civilized man has never yet learned the art of 
 the tanner." 
 
 " I want it for Aunt Anne." 
 
 " I thought you said it was for Miss Rose 1 " 
 
 " No. That was what you said." 
 
 " Did IV And they went on in that uncertain light 
 which is more puzzling than darkness, in and out of 
 the water, or, with exclamations and laughter, pitch- 
 ing over rocks and dead trees. 
 
 Half-way down the hill Carington stopped. The 
 brook-channel they were following descended to the 
 river in a widening gorge. He intended to follow it, 
 and, after seeing Colkett, meant to rejoin Jack, as he 
 had previously arranged. He now set the boy on a 
 disused lumber-road leading to the clearing, saying, 
 
 24 
 
370 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 at last, " This is my way. You may see the porcupine 
 in the open to the left, but be careful how you shoot. 
 Confound it ! How much longer do you think I am 
 going to be your pack-mule? I shall kick. Here, 
 carry your own plunder." And, laughing, he cast the 
 bearskin on the ground. 
 
 Jack's face lit up. This, of all things, was to be 
 desired. 
 
 " I was going to ask you if I might carry it a bit." 
 
 " Were you ? Well, be off, and, if you lose yourself, 
 remember that all the slopes lead to the river." 
 
 " Yes. As if any fellow did n't know that ! " said 
 Jack to himself, as he trudged away, very proud, with 
 the bearskin on bis back. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 ARINGTON stood a moment, look- 
 ing after the boy. Then he read- 
 justed the straps of the knapsack, 
 which he had taken again when 
 Jack had loaded himself with the 
 bearskin, and went rapidly down 
 through the more open forest. 
 
 At first he had meant to look quietly about the 
 cabin, hoping to find the place where the children 
 were buried. On reflection, he changed his mind, 
 and determined to go at once to the Colketts's, for 
 which he had a ready excuse. There was still 
 enough of light, but he had not as yet the least idea 
 where the little graveyard lay. Better, perhaps, he 
 thought, to ask Dorothy, and to return at mid-morn- 
 ing, when Joe would be away. That there was the 
 least peril in his search he did not think, despite 
 Lyndsay's warning. It had interested him, and he 
 meant to be guided by it so far as to have some other 
 guide than Joe in September. That was all. 
 
 At the edge of the clearing he climbed over the 
 snake-fence, and walked at once to the well, being 
 hot and thirsty. Mrs. Colkett, seeing him, came out 
 of the cabin, and met him as he began to lower the 
 bucket. He turned as she came. 
 
 371 
 
372 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 "Good evening, Mrs. Colkett. Is Joe about? I 
 have a job for him." 
 
 " He 's 'round somewhere. Joe ! " she called, in a 
 high-pitched voice ; " Joe ! " 
 
 The man came from the cow-shed, and joined them 
 at the well. 
 
 " Was you wantin' me, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, Joe. I mean to build a cabin on the island 
 this fall. Remson will do it, I saw him yesterday. 
 He wants you to get out a lot of squared lumber. 
 Can you do it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I wiU give you the measurements before I leave. 
 It will be a pretty good job for you. Mind you pick 
 out good stuff." 
 
 " I wiU ; no fear of that. Want some water, sir ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Joe let down the bucket, and brought it up brim- 
 ming. He set it on the rim of the well. Meanwhile 
 Carington sat on the ledge, and, tUting the bucket, 
 wetted his handkerchief and wiped his brow. 
 
 " That 's joUy good. By George, but I am warm ! 
 I have had a hard tramp." As he completed this 
 brief refreshing of the outer man, he looked up, and 
 for a moment considered the scaffold of big bones on 
 which time and care had left Susan Colkett but a 
 minimum amount of flesh. 
 
 He took no more deliberate notice than do most 
 people of the features, which gave him, however, in 
 their general effect, a sense of strangeness and of 
 vague discomfort. The eyes were too big, and, like 
 the cheek-bones, too red, the features large. Beside 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 373 
 
 her the stout husband, muscular and not unkindly of 
 look, presented an odd contrast. There did not seem 
 much harm in him, and how miserably poor they 
 must be I 
 
 " Come over soon," said Carington ; " I ynH. teU you 
 then more precisely what I want." 
 
 " He '11 come," said the woman. 
 
 " Very good." 
 
 "Would you mind, sir, to give Joe a little in ad- 
 vance? I '11 see he comes." 
 
 "Why not? Certainly!" 
 
 " The fact is, Joe he 'd never think to ask it ; he 's 
 that modest." 
 
 Carington, who had been looking at her husband's 
 face, was of opinion that he was pretty full of 
 whisky, and just now dulled with drink. Still, he 
 was a good workman, and the misery in which they 
 lived was but too obvious. He might have found a 
 more certain agent, but then he would have lacked 
 excuses for the interviews which his present purpose 
 required. 
 
 " I will tell you just what we want when you come 
 over, and, as to pay, I shall be glad to give you now 
 a moderate advance." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said Joe. 
 
 " He 'U come to-morrow, sure. Fact is," she went 
 on, " we ain't a dollar, and there 's no work, and this 
 house, there 's a man in Mackenzie 's got a mortgage 
 on it, and the pork 's about out." 
 
 " Will you have to go ? " 
 
 " That 's what we '11 have to do." 
 
 " Rather hard, that." 
 
374 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 " I wotild n't mind so much if it was n't to leave 
 them dead children, sir, and no man to care for their 
 graves. 'T ain't like as if we was rich." 
 
 "Are they buried here, Mrs. Colkett ?" 
 
 " Yes, they 're put away, back in the woods. Ton 
 might call that buried. We are just clean broke, 
 Mr. Carington, and that 's all there is to say." 
 
 " I am sorry for you." And he was, despite all he 
 knew, beiag a man pitiful of what led to crime or 
 to want. "I shall be very glad to give you help 
 now." 
 
 "The lawyer man he 's coming to-morrow, pretty 
 early. If we ain't got twenty dollars, the cow must 
 go." 
 
 " Can he take it ? I don't understand that." 
 
 "He says so. I don't rightly know. We poor 
 folk can't ever teU. We most always get the worst 
 of it." 
 
 She played her part and told her lie well, looking 
 down as she spoke, and at last wiping her eyes, while 
 Joe uneasily shifted from one foot to another as he 
 stood. 
 
 Carington put his hand in his pocket, and took out 
 the roll of notes. As he xmfolded them, the woman's 
 eyes considered them with a quick look of ferocious 
 greed. He counted out twenty-five dollars, and gave 
 the money into her hand, replacing the roU in his 
 pocket as she thanked him. After this he took the 
 bucket, tilted out of it half the water, and, raising it, 
 drank. As he buried his head in its rim, Susan 
 caught Joe by the arm, and pointed to the thirsty 
 man, whose back was toward them. She looked 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 375 
 
 around in haste, took a step toward a broken ax- 
 helve, which lay near by, and then stood still, as 
 Carington set down the bucket. He had been nearer 
 death than he ever knew. 
 
 As he turned, the woman's face again struck him. 
 It was deeply flushed ; the large, sensual lower lip 
 was drawn down, so as to uncover a row of large 
 yellow teeth, and the face was stern. 
 
 " Thank you, sir," she said again, quick to notice 
 his look of scrutiny. 
 
 "You are welcome. Come, Joe. I want to talk 
 over the lumber." 
 
 As Joe went by her, Susan caught his arm with 
 so fierce a grip that he exclaimed aloud. 
 
 " What is it ? " said Carington, pausing. 
 
 " I hurt my foot last week, and I just stumped my 
 toes — that 's all." 
 
 They walked on and reached the house. Here she 
 passed them and went in. While they stood a mo- 
 ment in talk, she moved to the far corner, and took 
 from its rack Joe's old-fashioned muzzle-loading rifle. 
 She knew that, as usual, it was loaded. Then she 
 hesitated, set it down against the table, and fetched 
 a bowl of milk to the door. 
 
 "Tou might like a drink of milk?" she said. 
 " Come in. It 's good. Dory fetched it ; our cow 's 
 run dry. Hers was better anyway. It 's right rich." 
 
 Carington might have thought of Jael as Mrs. 
 Colkett faced him. "She brought him butter in a 
 lordly dish." His thoughts, however, were far away. 
 
 " No, thank you," he replied, absently. 
 
 "Won't you rest a bit, sir?" 
 
376 WHEN ALIi THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 " No, I must go." 
 
 Profoundly disappointed, she went in, sat down, 
 took hold of the rifle, and then set it aside, as she 
 listened. 
 
 " I am not over sure of the way, Joe." He knew 
 it weU enough. " Come with me a bit." 
 
 "Yes, sir." They went around the cabin and struck 
 off into a forest road. At the brook, which crossed 
 it some fifty yards from the house, Carington turned 
 off the road. He had brought Joe thus far with the 
 indistinct intention of sounding him about the lost 
 tombstone. Suddenly, however, Joe said : 
 
 " I would n't go down the trail by the stream, sir." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " It 's shorter, but it 's awful muddy." 
 
 " Oh, that does n't matter." 
 
 " You 'd lose your way, sure." 
 
 " Nonsense." 
 
 The man's manner was so uneasy that Carington 
 at once concluded that the trail might lead near to 
 the object of his search. 
 
 " Good night," he said, abandoning his intention to 
 question Joe. " I shall take the brook trail. Don't 
 come with me. I see you are very lame." 
 
 " Don't you try that way, sir. You — you — I got 
 stuck in that swamp last fall. It 's real bad." 
 
 Carington was now stiU more certain of the cause 
 of the lumberman's persistent warnings. " I 'U risk 
 it," he said and set off. " Good night." 
 
 " Good night. Keep the left side, if you wiU take 
 the trail." 
 
 "AU right, Joe," 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 377 
 
 He crossed the rivulet, and kept to the right bank. 
 Joe stood a moment looking after him. The brook- 
 path would bring Carington full in sight of the 
 tombstone, and the shadows were not yet deep 
 enough to hide it. A great fear came upon him of a 
 sudden. He turned, and ran limping back to the 
 house. 
 
 " What is it ? " she cried, as he stumbled in. " Is he 
 dead ? Have you done it ? " 
 
 "No, no ! I could n't stop him ! He 's gone down 
 the brook. Oh, Lord, he '11 see it, and I 'm done for ! 
 He 's a-goin right for it." 
 
 She broke out, " Here ! " and thrust the rifle into his 
 hand. " Now is your chance ! It 's a heap of money. 
 Go ! go ! You are ruined, anyway. Ruined ! He 'U 
 see it. He 'U see it, sure. Make it safe. Quick ! " 
 
 The man stood still. " I can't ! I just can't ! " He 
 was shaking as with ague. 
 
 " Coward ! Fool ! Give it to me." And she tore 
 the rifle from his hand. 
 
 " Susie ! Susie ! It 's murder." 
 
 He caught her arm, and her gown, which tore in his 
 grasp. She thrust him aside with a blow of her open 
 hand on the chest. He fell over a chair, and got up, 
 limping, unsteady, in extreme pain from his hurt foot. 
 She was gone. 
 
 " I will kill you if you follow me," he heard, as she 
 passed the open window. 
 
 He believed her. He was afraid. He went to the 
 door, limped back, and, falling into a chair, stuffed 
 fingers into his ears, while sweat of terror ran down 
 his cheeks. A moment passed, then another, and, de- 
 
378 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 
 
 spite his childlike precaution, he heard his rifle ring 
 through the forest stillness, and upon this he burst into 
 tears, and cried aloud, " Oh, Lord, oh. Lord God ! " 
 
 As he spoke, he rose up, and stood in agony of 
 expectation. The woman came in. 
 
 " Where 's your powder and ball ? " 
 
 " I ain't none. Last charge," he gasped. " Did you 
 miss him ? " 
 
 "Miss! No. Take an ax, and go and make sure. He 
 ain't to be feared now. I hit him sure. Gro and get 
 the money. Have n't you that much pluck, you sot?" 
 
 "Idassen't." 
 
 " He 's got his gun,. Joe, and I had a notion he 
 might be just crippled, and I 'd come and get a load 
 and make certain." 
 
 As she spoke, he stood by her, swaying on his feet, 
 dazed. 
 
 " Great God, are you a man ! " she cried. 
 
 "Not that sort," he said, slowly. "Did you say 
 you done it, Susie?" 
 
 " Did I ? You fool ! Go and get the money. He 
 won't hinder you none." 
 
 "I could n't, Susie." 
 
 She looked about her, in no wise intimidated or 
 hurried. An ax stood in the corner. 
 
 "What ! What ! You must n't ! " he cried. 
 
 "Go and get a spade," she said. "I 'U fetch the 
 money. And, seizing the ax, she thrust him aside 
 as he stood in the doorway. "You white-livered 
 coward, get out of my way, or I '11 brain you." 
 
 He shrunk aside. He could only say, "Susie! 
 Susie! Don't — don't!" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 379 
 
 " Off with you ! " And passing him, with no more 
 words, she ran around the cabin and disappeared in 
 the darkening forest. 
 
 This time she moved with extreme caution, so as to 
 approach her victim in another direction. Neverthe- 
 less, being, like most of the forest-dweUing women, a 
 fair shot, she felt coolly certain of her prey. 
 
 After leaving Joe, Carington had followed the 
 brook, or rather the trail beside it, for some hundred 
 yards, when he noticed a gleam of white among the 
 shadows. Anything unusual in the forest is sure to 
 win instant notice from men accustomed to wandering 
 and to keeping aU their senses alert. Moreover, he 
 was now keenly observant. He stopped, and, cross- 
 ing the brook, broke through the undergrowth, and 
 stood at once in a clearing some twenty yards wide. 
 As he came nearer to the three little mounds, now 
 dimly visible, he saw the white slab, and instantly un- 
 derstood that his guess had been correct. A little 
 while he remained still, in thought recalling what 
 Dorothy had said, and gradually seeing in his mind 
 the pitif ulness of it all : the crude animal eagerness 
 of the mother; the rough, unthinking man's wish to 
 please her. 
 
 At last, laying aside his rifle, he knelt down, and, 
 unable to see, felt with his hands the surface of the 
 stone. " Ah ! " he exclaimed, recognizing on the back 
 the dints poor Joe's tool had made. Next he struck a 
 match, and, guarding it with his hands, read the in- 
 scription. The match went out before he had quite 
 done. He lit another. 
 
 "Ah me ! " he murmured ; " this is a strange world, " 
 
380 WHEN AiL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 And he read, " Of such are the kingdom of heaven." 
 " What a sad business ! " 
 
 He lifted his hand to cast aside the still-buming 
 match. At this instant, while still on his knees, there 
 was a flash of light. He heard no sound, but feU 
 across the graves, motionless. 
 
 Meanwhile, Jack, with swift feet, eager for home, 
 trotted down the broken road, and, to his disgust, 
 finding no porcupines, struck easily into the cross- 
 road, and, passing the boulder, moved away along the 
 forest-track. At last the way became less and less 
 plain ; but, trusting by habit to his sense of direction, 
 he pushed on into the wood. 
 
 A little surprised not to meet his friend, he con- 
 cluded that he might possibly have missed his way. 
 For the first time the boy hesitated. Then, as he 
 stood, he heard a rifie, and, sure at once that Caring- 
 ton must have shot something, he ran with greater 
 speed. In a few moments the tangle of undergrowth 
 checked his pace. Some five minutes or more went 
 by, and he saw a flare of light. Thinking it strange, 
 he hurried his steps, and then, of a sudden, stood stUL 
 
 The woman had carefully approached her prey, ax 
 in hand, and at last saw, as she strained her vision, 
 that Carington's rifle lay out of his reach. Reassured, 
 she went on more boldly. Looking around, and see- 
 ing no one near, she calmly lifted the man's head, and 
 let it fall. This seemed enough. She took the roU of 
 money, and began to disengage the watch-guard; but, 
 unable to release the catch in the buttonhole of his 
 jacket, struck one of the matches which, as usual, she 
 had in her pocket, caught up a scrap of birch-bark. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN S81 
 
 and, lighting it, saw by the flare how to undo the 
 chain. As she dropped the watch into her bosom, a 
 long gasp broke from the chest of the man beneath 
 her. 
 
 " He ain't done for," she exclaimed, and rose to her 
 feet, the roll of burning birch in one hand, the ax in 
 the other. She stepped back a pace, cast down the 
 blazing bark, which flashed forth anew as she let her 
 right hand slip up the handle and lifted the ax. 
 
 A voice rang out to the left, "Stand, or I 'U 
 shoot ! " 
 
 She set a foot on the fading bit of fire, and, stiU 
 gripping the ax, fled, with one hoarse cry, through 
 the woods, striking against the trees, falling, tearing 
 her hands and clothes in the raspberry vines. 
 
 Joe heard her coming, and stumbled out. 
 
 " He ain't dead," she cried, " and there 's another 
 man there. I got the money, though. Come ! quick I 
 Take blankets — go on to the road. I 'U be there in a 
 minute. Don't stand staring. You 're drunk ! " 
 
 He was. All day long he had been drinking; and 
 when she went out, he found his bottle and emptied 
 it, half crazed with fear. He obeyed her with diffi- 
 culty and came out staggering — letting the blankets 
 trail, and stumbling as he went. Then he halted.. 
 
 " Where am I going ? " 
 
 " Oh, the river ! the river ! — the dugout ! Fool ! 
 sot! The dugout 's at the lower landing, is n't it? 
 I left it this morning." 
 
 " Yes, it 's there." 
 
 " Then wait at the road." 
 
 She went back into the cabin, caught up some 
 
382 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 garments, and threw them out of the window. Next 
 she raked the fire out onto the floor, and, when again 
 at the door, caught the kerosene-ean from a shelf,, 
 with no tremor or haste, uncorked it, and threw it 
 onto the scattered fire. A great jelloy^ blaze went up, 
 and she barely escaped in time. She stood a moment, 
 and turned away laughing. " There won't be much 
 for that lawyer-man, I guess." One of her starved 
 hens, which had ventured into the cabin to forage, 
 was hurled out by the blast, blind and scorched, and 
 reeled about making strange noises. "Gosh, but 
 that 's funny ! " she cried, snatching the ax and fol- 
 lowing Joe. 
 
 At the fence she found Joe. 
 
 " What 's been a-doin', Susie ? " 
 
 " Shut up, and hurry, if you want to save your 
 neck." 
 
 " 'T ain't my neck." 
 
 " What ! " she cried. There was that in her voice 
 which quieted the man, and they went as swiftly as a 
 reeling head and hurt leg permitted down to the 
 landing. 
 
 " Set down," she cried, and pushed off the pirogue. 
 " Can you paddle ? " 
 
 "I can." 
 
 " Then do it," and they went away into the dark- 
 ness, down the hurry of the stream. 
 
 Jack had dimly understood that something was 
 wrong as he came through the edge of the wood, but, 
 as the birch flared up in its fall through the air, he 
 caught sight of a man's body, and of the backward 
 step of one about to strike with an ax. Then he 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 383 
 
 called to her. As she fled he ran out, and, hearing 
 the noise of her retreat more and more distant, he 
 dropped beside the man. 
 
 " It 's Mr. Carington ! Is he dead ? She shot him ! 
 I heard it— oh, this is awful ! What shall I do ?" 
 
 " Mr. Carington ! " he called. " Mr. Carington ! " 
 As he shook his shoulder, he guessed it was blood 
 he felt on his hand. 
 
 He stood up at last, and listened. There was no 
 sound but the deep murmur of the distant river. 
 More at ease, he struck a match, for the birch flame 
 was out, and, bending over, looked at the body. 
 
 " By George ! he 's not dead ; he 's breathing." 
 And stiU his anxiety was intense. He took both 
 rifles, dropped a shell in each, ran to the edge of the 
 clearing, and laid them down. Running back, and 
 catching Carington under the arms, he tried to drag 
 him to a shelter. It was in vain. The tall, sturdy 
 man was beyond his powers. But, as he tugged at 
 him, Carington groaned aloud. At the next pull, he 
 spoke : 
 
 " What 's wrong ? Who are you 1 " 
 
 " I am Jack, sir. You have been shot." 
 
 "Did I do it? — my rifle?" he murmured, feebly. 
 
 "No — a woman." 
 
 " What ? What 's that ? A woman J " The shock 
 of the ball-wound and the subsequent faintness, kept 
 up by loss of blood, were partly over. 
 
 "I am dreadfully weak. What an infernal busi- 
 ness! Where am I?" 
 
 " In the woods ; in the woods. Can you get over 
 to the bush ? They might come back." 
 
384 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 "I 'H try. Great Scott! It 's my left shoulder." 
 And he fell in the effort to get to his feet. " I can't 
 do it. Get my flask. Ah, that 's better." 
 
 This time he crawled with one arm and Jack's help 
 to the margin of the clearing, and at last lay among 
 the underbrush. 
 
 " Tie a handkerchief, tight, here, around my arm- 
 pit. I don't think it bleeds. It might. Now lie 
 down, and keep an eye over yonder. In a while I 
 shall be better. What a deuce of a business ! Now 
 keep quiet. Are you loaded ? " 
 
 "Yes— both rifles." 
 
 Jack waited, a hand on his rifle. Presently Car- 
 ington said, feeling his pocket with the right hand, 
 " George ! that 's it. I was a fool. It 's gone ! and 
 my watch!" 
 
 "How's that?" 
 
 " No matter now. Halloa, Jack, what is that light? " 
 
 "Light?" 
 
 "Yes," for the upward glow of the blazing cabin 
 now rose in the sky overhead, and soon began to 
 send arrowy flashes of illumination through the 
 trees. 
 
 " Can't be the woods," said Carington. " They are 
 aU wet, and there are few pines. Let us try to get 
 out of it." 
 
 This time he did better, but it was slow work, and 
 Jack became more and more anxious as the light 
 grew behind them, and now and then sparks fell 
 through the foliage about their path. They were 
 soon close to the shore. 
 
 " Stop ! " cried the boy. " Who 's there ? " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 385 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " said Lyndsay. " Jack ! Jack ! " 
 and Rose, at his side, repeated Ms name. " Wtat is 
 wrong?" 
 
 " I got a little hurt," said Carington, leaning against 
 a tree. " That is all. It is of no consequence." 
 
 " He 's shot," Jack blurted out. " A woman shot 
 him. Oh, but I 'm glad to see you ! " 
 
 At this Rose exclaimed, " Shot ! " and caught at a 
 great, friendly pine near by and held fast to it, until 
 a moment of its stay sufficed to steady her. " Is it 
 bad?" she said, in a voice which elsewhere might 
 have told enough, had the comment of her face been 
 visible. 
 
 " No," said Carington, cheerfully. " It is really of 
 no account. Miss Lyndsay. Let us get away. I can 
 teU you all to-morrow." 
 
 Lyndsay put a strong arm around him, and, thus 
 aided, they were soon at the shore, where Michelle in 
 Carington's canoe lay ready beside Lyndsay's. 
 
 " Mr. Carington 's hurt," said Lyndsay, and in a few 
 words explained the matter. 
 
 Carington, too weak and dazed to resist, or indeed 
 to care, found himself in a minute in Tom's boat with 
 Lyndsay, while Rose and Jack followed in Michelle's 
 canoe. 
 
 "Down-stream," said Lyndsay, "and hurry, my 
 men." 
 
 "Where are you taking me?" asked Carington, 
 feebly. 
 
 " To the Cliif Camp, of course,, my dear fellow. We 
 are going to get even on the bear business," 
 
 "You are very good." He was in dreadful pain. 
 
386 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 but even this did not prevent the pleasant reflection 
 that he was to be under the roof with Rose Lyndsay. 
 
 " By George ! " he added, " it hurts." 
 
 "I know well enough," said Lyndsay. "You are 
 not bleeding, however. I still have one of these leaden 
 hornets in me. It takes the pluck out of a fellow, at 
 first." 
 
 " I should think it did ! " said Carington. 
 
 " Don't talk now. It can't be serious. To-morrow, 
 or later, we shall want to hear more." 
 
 Meanwhile Rose in her own canoe was hearing from 
 Jack all that he knew of the day's misadventure. 
 
 " That will do," she said, at last, and fell back on 
 her seat, deep in thought. There are some fruits 
 which oiily winter ripens quickly. 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 YNDSAY had just come in when he 
 saw the glow of the fire over the 
 hilltop. He was curious and a little 
 anxious. Wood-fires are of all things 
 what men dread the most, when 
 once they have been face to face 
 with their terrors. He called his men again, and 
 ordered them to take him up the river. Rose, who 
 had been with him on the pool, asked at once to go 
 with him. 
 
 He said, " I see no objection. Get a wrap and 
 make haste." 
 
 Thus it chanced that in a few moments they were 
 poling up the stream with more than usual speed. 
 
 "Halloa!" cried Lyndsay, as a dugout shot by 
 them in the darkness. "What 's wrong up above?" 
 There was no reply. 
 
 " Is n't that queer ? " said Rose. " How uncivil ! " 
 "Very." 
 
 At the landing they went ashore, and pushed on to 
 see what was the source of the blaze. 
 
 Presently Lyndsay halted, noticing the sparks about 
 him. " There is no wind, Michelle." 
 
 " No, sir ; and the woods are soaking wet. I 've a 
 notion it 's Colkett's." 
 
 387 
 
388 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 "Best to see. I will wait at the boat. I don't 
 want to run any risk with Miss Lyndsay." But at 
 this moment he heard Jack's challenge, and so aU the 
 threads of my story are spun together. 
 
 As they ran down-stream, Lyndsay was a little un- 
 easy concerning what might be his wife's judgment 
 as to his course in regard to Carington ; but he had 
 felt very deeply the obligation under which the 
 young man had placed them, and he was clear 
 enough that there had been really nothing else to 
 do. Nevertheless, he was shrewd as to the domestic 
 management of the matter. At the landing he said 
 to Rose : 
 
 "Wait a moment, you and Jack," and then ran 
 up the steps and into the house. 
 
 By this time Rose was in full command of herself, 
 and able, as her father left them, to speak tranquilly 
 enough to the wounded man. 
 
 " Yes, he was in some pain ; but, to judge from his 
 own feelings, the trouble could not be grave." 
 
 Then she asked, quite naturally, if Mr. EUett had 
 been told, and learning that he had not, sent Jack 
 to find Polycarp, that he might take a note to the 
 Island. When Jack came back with the Indian, 
 Rose said : 
 
 "I must see papa about the note for Mr. EUett. 
 Ah, here he comes." She did not wait to complete 
 this business, but turned to the canoe where Caring- 
 ton still lay, and said : 
 
 " Good night, and good-by, too, for a few days. 
 Mama will keep you well caged. You may rest as- 
 sured of that ! " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 389 
 
 In tlie very dim ligM she saw him put out the 
 hand nearest to her. She took it, felt the lingering 
 grasp, already fever-hot, that would have delayed the 
 moment's soft prisoner, but dared not. She said 
 again : 
 
 " Good night. Here is papa," and moved away, at 
 first slowly, and then quickly. 
 
 When Mr. Lyndsay entered the cabin his wife 
 looked up. 
 
 "What is it, Archie?" 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, Margaret. Mr. Carington has 
 been shot — badly wounded." 
 
 " Not by Jack ! " cried the mother. 
 
 " Oh, no ! No. It 's a queer story. I have not 
 heard it fully. He bled a good deal, and — " 
 
 " Do you think him in danger, Archie ? " 
 
 " It is hard to say, especially so soon." 
 
 " Surely you did not leave him at their camp ? " 
 said Margaret. 
 
 "No. He is in my canoe on the beach." 
 
 " Good gracious ! Is he ? " 
 
 Anne smiled, as she would have said, inside of her, 
 and reflected upon the wisdom her brother had dis- 
 played, for at once Margaret, easily captured by ap- 
 peals to her pity, was afoot, and, for the time, intent 
 alone upon what was best to be done. 
 
 " I would send Tom to Mackenzie for a doctor, and 
 he must stay. I think, Archie, you wiU have to give 
 Mr. Carington your room and take to a tent." Then 
 she went off to set the room in order, while Lyndsay 
 returned to the beach, stiU a little anxious, but also 
 a little amused. 
 
390 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABB GREEN 
 
 Rose had gone. 
 
 By and by the guides carried the wounded man up 
 into the neat chamber, where Lyndsay helped him to 
 bed, and was easily able to ascertain that the ball 
 had crossed the chest beneath the skin, passed over 
 the left shoulder, and out again — a severe flesh- 
 wound. 
 
 "It does not bleed," said Lyndsay, "and I think 
 there is no very serious hurt. Can you move your 
 arm ? " 
 
 "Yes, — with pain." 
 
 "Then the joint is safe. I have known fellows 
 brevetted for things no worse." 
 
 " But my puzzle is, why what is only a flesh-wound 
 should have made me drop as if I were dead. I can- 
 not understand it." 
 
 " The doctors call it ' shock,' " said his host. " At 
 times it affects the head, and a man hit in the foot or 
 arm goes crazy for a time, or else it stops the heart, 
 and he faints." 
 
 " That was it, I suppose." 
 
 As they talked Lyndsay put on a wet compress, 
 and, with the skill learned long since, where bullets 
 were many and bigger, he made his patient reason- 
 ably comfortable, and left him at last under Mrs. 
 Lyndsay's despotic care. 
 
 In the mean time, Anne, anxious to know more, 
 had looked for Jack. At ease concerning Carington, 
 he was off somewhere, busy about the preservation 
 of his precious bearskin, and Rose, too, had dis- 
 appeared. Anne felt that she must wait, and, as 
 usual, went to her room, to rest a little before their 
 
WHEN AliL THE WOODS ABE GKEEN 391 
 
 retarded dinner. She opened the door, and instantly 
 went in and shut it. Rose was lying on the bed, try- 
 ing hard to suppress her sobs, knowing well that she 
 would be but too easily heard. 
 
 " Dear child, what is it ? " said Anne. 
 
 " I don't know. Oh, do, please, let me alone ! " 
 
 "But I must know. It is so unlike you. Mr. 
 Carington is in no danger." 
 
 "I know. I don't care whether he is in danger 
 or not. I do care! It is n't he! It 's — it 's me — 
 it 's I. I can't tell. I am ashamed. Are aU women 
 this way 1 Oh, I hate to be such a fool ! " 
 
 Anne sat down. " I don't quite understand, dear ; 
 but, no matter. What is clear is that you are going 
 to have hysterics." 
 
 " I am not going to have hysterics." 
 
 " Then keep quiet, and don't talk." 
 
 " You made me talk ! " 
 
 " I did. I am an ass." 
 
 " No — no ! Kiss me, aunty. I am so miserable ! 
 Could n't I get to bed quietly ? " 
 
 " Yes. Your mother is busy. Come." And thus, 
 when at last dinner was on the table, and Mrs. Lynd- 
 say asked for her daughter, she was told that Rose 
 had a headache, and then, when she got up to go to 
 her, that she was asleep, which may or may not have 
 been true. 
 
 At dinner, between what Carington had told Lynd- 
 say and Jack's very clear statement, the story came 
 out plainly enough. The boy was praised to his 
 heart's content, and when Anne had said that this was 
 courage in the right place, and Carington refused to 
 
392 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 sleep until he had thanked him, Jack felt that, includ- 
 ing the bearskin as a part of the day's blessings, Hfe 
 had no more to give. As for Dick, he settled the 
 genus and the species of the bear, and Ned sat in a 
 corner and meditated, seeing the whole day's events 
 in pictures, with curious dramatic clearness. 
 
 Next morning the doctor arrived, and further reas- 
 sured them. Mr. Carington was in for a day or two 
 in bed, and then might be out in the hammock. 
 
 Of course EUett had been informed the night be- 
 fore, and had come down at once. When again, next 
 day, he returned, there was a long consultation, and it 
 was decided that the patient was so well that Ellett 
 might move down and take care of him, that the doc- 
 tor would come back and stay a few days, and that 
 Mr. Lyndsay and his family might go away on Sun- 
 day night. To this plan Mrs. Lyndsay somewhat 
 eagerly assented, for reasons of which she said no- 
 thing, an unusual course for the little lady. 
 
 Thus, on Friday and Saturday, what with fishing 
 and packing, every one was busy. 
 
 "Preliminaries are the bane of existence," said 
 Anne, " but postliminaries are worse " ; and thereupon 
 she asked Ned if that word was in " "Worcester," and 
 declared for a dictionary of her own making. 
 
 Mrs. Lyndsay had no opinion of Anne's capacities 
 in any practical direction, and declined for a day her 
 help in the care of Mr. Carington. But now she was 
 over-busy, and thus it chanced on the next morning, 
 being Saturday, that she asked Anne to look after 
 their wounded guest. They had purposely brought 
 no maids with them, and, even with all of Rose's help. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 393 
 
 Anne had been obliged to assist in packing, for, as 
 concerned her books, she was as old-maidish and pre- 
 cise as are some other of her corps about what Anne 
 regarded as quite unimportant properties. To escape, 
 at last, out of the bustle of packing, and to find some 
 one to talk to or be talked to, was entirely to her taste. 
 
 " Certainly, Margaret," she said. 
 
 " And do not let him talk." 
 
 "No." 
 
 " And do not talk to him, dear." 
 
 " Of coTirse not." 
 
 " There is nothing so fatiguing." 
 
 " No. That is quite the case." 
 
 " And be careful about drafts." 
 
 "Yes. Is that all?" 
 
 " I think so," returned Mrs. Lyndsay, doubtfully, 
 and then went before Anne into Carington's room. 
 
 "I have brought you a new nurse. My sister-in- 
 law will look after you this morning. You must not 
 let her talk to you." And having thus doubly pro- 
 vided against the deadly malaria of conversation, she 
 went out as Anne sat down. 
 
 Carington liked the maiden lady, with her neat 
 dress and erect carriage, which no suffering had taught 
 the stoop of the invalid; moreover, her unusualness 
 pleased him. Her talk, too, was out of the common, 
 and full of enterprise. What she used of the learning 
 or sentiment of others seemed also to acquire a new 
 personal flavor. Mrs. Westerly had once said, "When 
 Miss Anne quotes Shakspere, it loses the quality of 
 mere quotation. She can't say anything like the rest 
 of us." 
 
394 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEBN 
 
 As she sat down, she said demurely, " I am not to 
 talk to you. Let us gossip : that is not talk." 
 
 " Oh, no," he said, joyously. " I am just about in a 
 state for mere chat, which involves no thinking. Mrs. 
 Lyndsay has been severe." 
 
 " I have to fight her a little myself, dear, good, ob- 
 stinate creature as she is. I suppose she did not talk 
 to you at all, — not a word, I presume ? " 
 
 " I decline, Miss Anne, to betray the weaknesses of 
 my nurses." 
 
 " That is well. Negations often answer questions 
 quite sufficiently in the affirmative. I know she did 
 talk to you, and about that miserable tombstone. She 
 cannot help it, poor mother ! " 
 
 " Yes. I thought it pitiable. She seemed unable to 
 escape from it." 
 
 "It is like her; but it is not wise. Margaret is. 
 persistent always. Her likes and dislikes are change- 
 less. She is obstinate in her kindness, her loves, and 
 her charities. As good as gold, we say ; but goodness, 
 like gold, is not an insurance of fertile results in aU 
 its relations. I mean that goodness can be sometimes 
 exasperating. But, as usual, my tongue is indiscreet. 
 I would like you to understand her. She is worth the 
 trouble." 
 
 " Thank you. I never can forget her tenderness 
 and her kind carefulness. Never ! " 
 
 " Our real battles are over my books. She says my 
 little library is a wilderness of books, and every 
 autumn, on my return, I find the servants have had 
 orders to dust my books." 
 
 " How dreadful ! " 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 395 
 
 " Is it not ? And the strange things that happen ! 
 I like to arrange my books so that they shall be happy, 
 and when I come home and find Swinburne in among 
 the volumes of Jeremy Taylor, and Darwin sandwiched 
 between Addison and the ' Religio Medici,' I get frantic 
 and say things. It is useless." 
 
 " How sad ! " 
 
 "I shall assure her we — you and I — were only 
 gossiping. She has an abiding impression that I talk 
 only high science, and I detest science. Talk I must." 
 
 " I think it will do me no harm. I am now quite 
 easy. I have no fever." 
 
 "None," said Anne, taking his hand and looking 
 at her watch. " Pulse good, too. I don't think a 
 talk will hurt you. Tell me when you are tired." 
 
 " I promise, but you shaU do the talking. I wiU 
 listen." 
 
 "You had better be careful how you give such 
 large liberty. Did you ever, by chance, know Miss 
 Pearson ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," and he laughed, " years ago — that 
 statistical lady in G-ermantown. I had some engi- 
 neering work near there. Oh, years ago: I was a 
 mere lad. I knew all those good people, Mrs. Fox 
 and the Mortons. But what about Miss Pearson? 
 Grood woman, I take it ? " 
 
 " Yes, entirely ; but she kept her religion on ice ; 
 a sort of east- wind of a woman. She had that blood- 
 less propriety which passes muster for dignity. When 
 you gave me full discretion as to talk, I meant to teU 
 you her description of my conversation; I don't 
 think I shall." 
 
396 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 
 
 " Well, you are revenged, I tMnk," and he laughed. 
 " I find I must not laugh ; it hurts. You will have 
 to be grave, if you talk at aU." 
 
 " I think I must teU you. She declared that if I 
 wanted to be amusing, I never hesitated to be either 
 inaccurate or untruthful, and that, while accidental 
 inaccuracy was deplorable, intended intellectual in- 
 accuracy was criminal ! " 
 
 "That is surprisingly like her — or was. She is 
 dead, I think." 
 
 " Yes. How it must bother her ! One can't imagine 
 accuracy in space, and where time is not. I don't 
 suppose the angels plume themselves on punctuahty." 
 
 " Really, Miss Anne ! " 
 
 " Well, I will try to be good. Now, don't laugh ! 
 Let us be serious. Do you suppose folks take the 
 seriousness of death into that other world? Not 
 that I personally regard it as so very grim a business. 
 There are many worse trials in life than dying, be- 
 cause vital calamities may repeat themselves ; but it 
 seems improbable that we shall have more than one 
 experience of this exit." 
 
 "Who can say?" said Carington. "I have been 
 near it of late ; but I can contribute to no wisdom." 
 
 " I like to think I shall grin at the world from the 
 safe side of the fence," she returned. " Miss Pearson 
 would have said that a due sense of the relative pro- 
 portion of things would be inconsistent in another 
 sphere with the minute dimensions of our earthly 
 jests." 
 
 " And you call that serious ? " 
 
 "I do. Don't you?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 397 
 
 " No. I shall have to ' p'int ' the talk, as Mrs. May- 
 brook says." 
 
 " And what shall we talk about ? If I cannot put 
 a smile into my talk, I shall prefer silence." 
 
 He made no answer for a time, and then spoke 
 gravely enough. 
 
 "I have had a very narrow escape, Miss Anne, and, 
 but for that fine fellow, Jack, I should have been lost 
 to this life, or, if you like, this Ufe to me." 
 
 " Yes, that is so. I am proud of the boy. He has 
 made a friend, I trust." 
 
 " Yes, and I can help him. I saw that in the talks 
 we had. One can tell, sometimes, when, of a sudden, 
 one comes into sympathetic touch with another nature. 
 It is like taking a key out of your pocket at need, and 
 finding it fit a strange lock and turn easily, and so 
 open a life to you. The sentence is n't good, but you 
 know what I mean." 
 
 " I do." And again he was quiet a little while, 
 
 "Miss Anne, may I tell you something?" 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " You may not like it." 
 
 " Perhaps not. That is of no moment. I want to 
 hear. I always want to hear. My appetite for the 
 unknown is like that of a ghost for realities." 
 
 " This is real enough." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I care — oh, a great deal — for Miss Lyndsay." 
 
 " Do you caU that a secret ? It was arithmetically re- 
 vealed to me by five roses, which should have been six." 
 
 "You are a terrible woman. Miss Anne! The 
 witches were a trifle to you!" 
 
398 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 " They had the insight of wickedness. I have the 
 sagacity of love. Rose is very, very dear to me." 
 
 " Do you think it possible — " 
 
 " That Rose should care for you ? Yes. It is pos- 
 sible. But, frankly, yours is a three weeks' acquain- 
 tance, ripened by unusual events. Neither she nor we 
 know you as we should know a man to whom — " 
 
 " Let me interrupt you. I am thinking of the future. 
 One does not win a woman like Miss Lyndsay in a 
 day." 
 
 " You are right. I think, were I you, I would assist 
 the future to take care of itself." 
 
 " Thank you. I should like, much as I care for her, 
 to have her get quite away from any sense of obhga- 
 tion to me. I almost wish she could entirely forget it. 
 Any man could have done the little I did, and, after 
 all, you are quite out of my debt." 
 
 " No one can pay another's debts. The heart has no 
 clearing-house. Rose must know that. You feel, as 
 I do, that no manly nature should want to be taken 
 for granted, as altogether what is best for life, just on 
 the chances of a minute of decisive action. You want 
 her to know you in many relations, and to know her- 
 self also. Is n't that so?" 
 
 " It could not be better stated." 
 
 " If you had saved her life a dozen times, she would 
 still reflect before she said ' yes,' and be the more apt 
 to hesitate because of the obligation. It is a strong 
 nature." 
 
 " But I don't want her to let — " 
 
 " No. I understand, and don't misunderstand me. 
 We are quite at one." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 399 
 
 " And you will be my friend ? " 
 
 " Yes. I lilse you. If you are good enough for my 
 Rose — I doubt — Come and see us ; and be prudent 
 now. I never could bold my own tongue. Therefore, 
 much conversational adversity makes me a good ad- 
 viser. If you see Rose at all before we leave, be on 
 your guard." 
 
 " Thank you again," and he took her hand. 
 
 " Now I must go. What a pity we were ordered not 
 to talk ! " 
 
 "Dreadful, was it not? And how good we have 
 been ! I assure you. Miss Anne, I am worlds the bet- 
 ter for your visit. Good-by. I am to be up on the 
 lounge on Sunday afternoon. Indeed, I am to be car- 
 ried out to the porch. I could walk well enough. 
 Don't you think I shall have a chance to say good-by ? " 
 
 "Tome? Oh, yes." 
 
 " Please, Miss Anne, you know I mean Miss Rose ! " 
 
 " Why not ? And now I must go." 
 
 She did not calculate on Mrs. Margaret, who was 
 now once more uneasy about this business, and had a 
 maternal mind to put in its way enough obstacles to 
 make the stream of love run anything but smooth. 
 As I have said, she was conservative. The unusual 
 distressed her. Rose's other love-affairs had been con- 
 ducted after the conventional manner, and had caused 
 her no great discomfort. There was too much abrupt 
 romance in this courtship, and she feared for the 
 effect on Rose of its singularity, believing it might 
 unsettle her good sense and bring about a too hasty 
 result. She did not understand her daughter; few 
 mothers do. 
 
400 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 
 
 It was late in the afternoon of Sunday, almost twi- 
 light, when the canoes were loaded and ready. Rose 
 came down last and stood with the rest on the beach. 
 Mrs. Lyndsay, her husband, Anne, and the boys had 
 said good-by to EUett and Carington, but the mother, 
 on this or that excuse, kept the men busy, until at 
 last, Ellett, seeing Carington's impatience, called one 
 of his own people, and with his help lifted his friend 
 out on the porch. 
 
 The cliff hid from view the little group on the shore 
 below. 
 
 " Confound it," said the sick man, " they are gone ! 
 No, I hear them. I think I shall walk to the steps, 
 Ellett." 
 
 " You will do nothing of the kind ! " 
 
 " Hang it all ! " 
 
 "No. Keep still." 
 
 At this moment, as Lyndsay was busy putting his 
 people in the boats, and Tom was thundering advice 
 and orders to the men, Anne said : 
 
 " ReaUy, Archie, Rose ought to say good-by to Mr. 
 Carington." 
 
 " What is that ? " exclaimed Margaret from her 
 canoe, which had just been shoved off from the strand. 
 
 " Nothing, dear," said Anne. " It is really ungra- 
 cious, Archie." This in an aside. 
 
 " But Margaret thinks — " 
 
 " Margaret will make mischief by wanting not to." 
 
 " "Well, perhaps you are right. Run up. Rose," he 
 said aloud, " and say good-by to Mr. Carington. He 
 is on the porch now." 
 
 " I will go up with you," said Anne ; " I forgot to 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 401 
 
 say good-by myself," and, witli this inild prevarication 
 to assist her, Rose followed her aunt. 
 
 " I came up to say good-by, Mr. Carington." 
 
 "And I," said Anne. 
 
 " Good-by," he said, putting out his hand. Whether 
 his eyes were as prudent as his tongue, may be 
 doubted. 
 
 " You will write to me, Miss Anne 1 " 
 
 " I wiU, and Mr. BUett will let us hear." 
 
 "No, I shall do that myself." 
 
 " Come, Rose," called Lyndsay. 
 
 She turned and went away with her aunt. In a 
 few moments Carington saw the little fleet of canoes 
 scattering, as the paddles rose and fell. Then they 
 entered the swift current, and were lost to view 
 around the bend in the river, — the boys calling out a 
 loud "good-by," and then breaking out into their 
 favorite song: 
 
 "Seven braw sons had gude Lord James, 
 Their worth no Scot will gainsay ; 
 But who shall match the bonny eyes 
 Of gentle Rose a Lyndsay?" 
 
 "Who, indeed!" said Carington, as he shut his 
 field-glass with a snap. 
 
1 
 
 W' 
 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 PSE was in the boat alone with her 
 aunt. Neither being in the mood 
 for talk, they ran silently down the 
 broadening stream without a word. 
 The paddles dipped and rose; the 
 evening shadows crept forth, as it 
 were, out of the earlier darkness of the woods, and 
 again, as once before, they sped along in the gloom 
 of an overcast night. 
 
 The same soft odors of earth and spruce, the pecu- 
 liar smell of broken water, were as they had been. 
 Once more the hills seemed closing in upon them. 
 The clouded skies overhead appeared to be almost 
 within touch. Then the white flash and roll and 
 strange voices of the rapids went by them like the 
 mysterious uncertainties of a dream. 
 
 AE was as it had been three weeks before : all but 
 Rose herself. She was under other skies, in the 
 strong tide of a mightier current. She locked her 
 hands, and set herself to put it all aside, and to win 
 again the mood of peace and serenity which these 
 three weeks had so disturbed. It would not come 
 back. 
 As for Anne, she lay against the piled-up luggage, 
 
 402 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GEEEN 403 
 
 silent and thought-bonnd. Slie was in the dreary- 
 company of pain, and smiled sadly as she glanced 
 back over the years in which it had been her foe or 
 friend, and again, as often before, wondered how long 
 it would last, and she be called upon to bear it with 
 ever-weakening physical power to make the fight less 
 easy. 
 
 At the landing, and while they were arranging to 
 go to the station, a man came down the bank and 
 asked for Mr. Lyndsay. 
 
 " That is my name. How are you, Carstairs 1 What 
 is it?" 
 
 " This way, sir, a moment. Could you let Michelle 
 come with me for half an hour, — or Tom. The body 
 of a man has come ashore on Caribou Bar. They 
 have taken it up to my barn. Some of the men say 
 it is Joe Colkett. We think one of your people 
 would know." 
 
 Lyndsay called Michelle, and, leaving proper direc- 
 tions, went away with him. 
 
 In the barn, after twenty minutes' walk, he found a 
 number of men, and the local magistrate. Two lan- 
 terns lit dimly the threshing-floor. 
 
 The men stood about silent ; the horses in the stalls 
 beyond changed feet, and the noises of the never-quiet 
 river came up through the night. 
 
 On the floor lay the body. Lyndsay took the lan- 
 tern, and bent over it. 
 
 " Yes, it is Joe ! Poor fellow ! " 
 
 " He is badly cut up by them rocks," said Michelle, 
 " and his foot." 
 
 " Was it rocks ? " asked Lyndsay. " The skuU seems 
 
404 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 
 
 broken. Poor fellow ! " Then he took the magistrate 
 aside, and they talked long and earnestly. 
 
 " Yes, I got your message. Thursday night one of 
 the wardens hailed a dugout, and got no answer. 
 That was below your camp." 
 
 " I passed it also, farther up — two people. It must 
 have been that woman and Joe. They fired their 
 house, — why, I do not know, — and got off with their 
 plunder." 
 
 "We shall catch her. Do you think she killed 
 Joe?" 
 
 " Perhaps ! As like as not. But, if that woman is 
 alive, you will not catch her." 
 
 " I shall wire to Quebec." 
 
 "And you will let me know ? " 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "Carington's evidence you can get, of course. I 
 really have none to give myself. The woman you wUl 
 never get." And they did not. No dugout was found, 
 and whether she too was lost or escaped to breed fur- 
 ther mischief, none know. 
 
 Lyndsay walked swiftly back, and rejoined his peo- 
 ple at the station. When at last they were running 
 at speed between Quebec and Montreal, Anne said : 
 
 "Archie, what was it last night ? " Why did they 
 want you ? " 
 
 Then he told her, as he had already told his wife, 
 the sad ending of poor, simple Joe. 
 
 " It is a miserable business," she returned. " Really, 
 Archie, the morals which come at the end of life's 
 fables are pretty useless for those most concerned." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 405 
 
 On reacMng home, Anne found a letter from Car- 
 ington. He wrote : 
 
 That astonishing woman — Dorothy May brook — has spent 
 most of her time -with me. She calmly told Ellett to go a-fishing. 
 He went. I have been admirably nnrsed, and, as you may sup- 
 pose, have not lacked conversation. Who 'p'ints' Hiram, in 
 her absence, I do not know. 
 
 There has been no news of the Colketts. It is but too prob- 
 able that she killed the man, and got away in safety. I shall 
 hereafter entertain a profound respect for the intelligence of 
 crime. 
 
 It is great fun to hear BUett and Dorothy. Do write to 
 me — and say pleasant things to all of those dear, good people 
 of yours. Tell Miss Rose I am not too badly crippled to ask for 
 a new place as bowman. 
 
 Yours, etc. 
 
 27 
 
CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 HE winter days went by, and, al- 
 though the bridge was buUt, it 
 seemed to need later much inspec- 
 tion, until, by ill fortune, there were 
 bridges to build in Cuba, and 
 thither Carington went in haste. It 
 was therefore not until mid-June that he reached 
 home again. 
 
 While busy with his bridge, and later, he had found 
 himself often at Lyndsay's table, and had come to be 
 a welcome guest. And yet he seemed no nearer to 
 the end he desired. One day, just after he had gone 
 to the West Indies, Anne Lyndsay had said to Rose : 
 " I think that is a too patient man : I hate a man to 
 be as patient as that. If I were he, I would go away 
 and stay away." 
 " He won't." 
 
 " How long will this state of things go on ? " 
 " I do not know. I cannot be sure. I — aunty, one 
 ought to be so very sure. It is for life ! I think he 
 understands me." 
 
 " If he were to leave you, my dear, you would cry 
 your eyes out." 
 " I should." 
 
 " How many bears go to a wooing ? " 
 " Let me alone. Aunt. I had better be let alone." 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GEEEN 407 
 
 Then Aunt Anne, who was feebler than ever, said 
 to herself, "Love is the only fruit which ripens in 
 the spring." But meanwhile Carington was away in 
 Cuba, as we have said, and the spring came and went 
 without results. 
 
 He found in his rooms in Boston, on his return, a 
 letter from Miss Anne Lyndsay. He was depressed 
 in spirits ; the town was empty of aU he knew, and 
 more than ever he felt the want of a home. "When 
 last he saw Miss Rose, she was still, as always, pleas- 
 ant, gay, and friendly. He had never yet seen fully 
 the emotional side of a nature resolute by construc- 
 tion, and perfectly mistress of all the protective ways 
 of the world of woman. Now and then the dim past 
 of their life on the river seemed to him as if it had 
 never been. More and more time, and the world ap- 
 peared to be widening the distance between them, 
 and yet once she had looked to be so near. 
 
 He sat a minute or two with Anne's letter in his 
 hand. The maiden lady, — "Mistress Anne " he liked 
 to call her, after the Southern fashion his youth re- 
 membered, — Mistress Anne had, as the months went 
 by, taken him quietly into the wide circle of her 
 friendships. Her letters, however, were rare enough. 
 She wrote many, but not often to Carington, although 
 from Cuba he had written frequently. 
 
 He put aside all the other notes and, lighting a 
 pipe, sat down with Anne's letter, honestly glad of 
 the kindly relation it suggested. 
 
 Dear Me. Cardjqton : I have had a number of letters from 
 you of late, and this is all I have been able to give in return. I 
 have now to limit myself even as to this indulgence. 
 
408 WHEN ALL THE WOODS ABE GREEN 
 
 You won't want to tear about the new 'books, and you will 
 have, I presume, some quite absurd desire to know about my 
 good people. A man would say, " Everybody quite well, thank 
 you" ; but, being a woman, I know better the masculine wants : 
 only women write satisfactory letters. 
 
 My good brother is well, and shamefully busy at the game 
 of the law. Mrs. Lyndsay is just now in bed. Dr. North 
 comes daUy; but Margaret's maladies, which I must say are 
 rare, are obstinate when they arrive. She has to read a report 
 next week at a society for the prevention of something to some- 
 thing. If she lets that day go by in bed, I shall be alarmed. A 
 dose of duty will cure her at any time. She requires large doses 
 of pity when ill, and as to that I am grimly homeopathic. 
 
 Dick is at school — and Ned. They both want what no schools 
 give, some man who will know how to educate the peculiar, and 
 not insist that it be like the unpeouliar. As for Jack, he has 
 begun to work, and takes it hard, and has more rows than ever. 
 One envies England her India for these restless young ViWngs. 
 In a week we join Lyndsay on the river. 
 
 Carington looked at tlie date. It was two weeks old. 
 
 My niece is very well ; as handsome as ever ; rather too seri- 
 ous, as I think: one wants a little foolish vagueness in the 
 young. It gives to the human landscape atmosphere, as the 
 painters say. If you don't know what I mean, I am sorry for 
 you. I tell Col. Fox that is what the Quakers lack — atmo- 
 sphere. (J call that s)er^ clever: OTdeEUett.) Pox says Friends 
 are rather definite, — think of the arrogance of calling them- 
 selves Friends, and a big J" also. This is the great and lovely 
 liberty of the letter. It may wander like a gipsy. I think really 
 I must go back and look. I meant to tell you what North said 
 about tombstone biography. He called it " epitaffy." Is n't that 
 lovely? Also, it has no manner of connection with the rest of 
 this meandering screed. 
 
 I was saying that Rose has become too grave. Do not be 
 alarmed. It is only a mood elongated. And now I am going to 
 do a very silly thing. No, I won't ! A word to the wise is said 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 409 
 
 to be enough; sometimes the silence of wisdom is better. I 
 dreadfully hunger after a chance to give you a dose of advice. 
 I write a big ^, like the doctors', in due form, with that stupid 
 flourish below, which is, I believe, their invocation to Jupiter 
 for luck (they need it) ; and then — I hesitate. Be so good as to 
 fill in this blank with what I shall only think, not say : 
 
 I advise most positively — 
 
 » 
 
 ? 
 
 I can hear your anathema. 
 
 "I should think so, indeed!" exclaimed Carington; 
 "and what next?" 
 
 We shall be in camp before this reaches you. I had some 
 doubt about going myself, but I mean to have aU the joys life 
 offers, or that I can decently lay hands on. When the thing is 
 over, I shall just say to my dear people, "By-by ; see you again 
 shortly," and laugh a little, and go to sleep. I never could see 
 why folks make such a fuss about dying. The way some people 
 think of it rises to the gravity of a jest. What would the 
 goody-goody world say to that — or my dear Margaret Lyndsay ? 
 
 I hear that you are to be on hand soon. Mr. Ellett has gone 
 up the river, and promises to be very attentive to me. I am all 
 of a flutter. Read with care what I have not written, and 
 believe me. Mysteriously your friend, 
 
 Anne Lyitdsat. 
 
 L'envoi. 
 
 If you are fond of Scotch literature the poems of Montrose 
 might be of interest. 
 
 " Of all the nonsense ever I read ! " said Carington; 
 but he went to the side of the room, where the long 
 bookcases overflowed with volumes on which the 
 dust had gathered in his absence. He looked them 
 over, and at last found the one he sought. " Mon- 
 
410 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GKEEN 
 
 trose — Graham — James, Marquis of, etc., author of 
 certain songs once popular." 
 
 By and by he chanced upon a volume of Scotch 
 ballads, and sat down. Very soon he laid the book, 
 back up and open, on the table, and went on smoking. 
 After a half-hour he discovered that his pipe had 
 long been out. It was, in fact, cold. 
 
 He went forth at once, and assured his partners 
 that Cuban malaria necessitated Canadian air. In 
 twenty-four hours he was on his way to the river. 
 
 Three days later saw him on the waters he loved. 
 Toward five in the afternoon he heard voices singing. 
 He knew them well, and in a few minutes was ashore 
 at a bend of the stream. 
 
 For a few moments he stood, unseen, a little be- 
 low the lads, who lay back of a rock, caroling their 
 songs, having kiUed many trout, and filled themselves 
 with a mighty luncheon. 
 
 Carington listened a little, and then cried out, 
 "Any bears here 1 " and walked round the rocks. He 
 was noisily made welcome. " Give me a bit of some- 
 thing," he said. " I pushed on, and have had nothing 
 since nine o'clock." 
 
 " There is n't much left," said Jack. " Rufus ate 
 the big pie. There was only one little one for Ned 
 and me." 
 
 " They said they did n't want it, and I wish I 
 had n't," said Dick. " Pie 's an awful different thing 
 when it 's outside of you and when it 's inside." 
 
 " I have observed that," said Carington. " That 
 win do, Jack. A little marmalade, please. Bad, 
 Dick?" 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 411 
 
 "Very." 
 
 " When we get our deserts, we don't always escape 
 whipping." 
 
 " That 's so ! " exclaimed Ned. " Just remember that, 
 Red Head." 
 
 " Shut up ! " 
 
 " Behave yourselves," said Jack. " Fact is, sir, we 
 are all about ready for a row." 
 
 "Bad as ever?" 
 
 " Worse — those two, I mean. I am like a lamb." 
 
 " Or a bear-cub," said Ned. 
 
 "You wait a bit, old rhyme-snarler." 
 
 " Halloa ! " said Carington. " Not now, please. How 
 is everybody ? and Miss Anne 1 " 
 
 " We are aU first-rate. Rose she is up there above 
 us on the point. She wanted to be alone ; she loves 
 that. She told the big Indian to come down here and 
 wait till we go up. You can see her red umbrella. 
 She 's sketching. We are to stop for her at six. More 
 bread?" 
 
 " Yes. Bless me, it is five o'clock ! I must get 
 away. What was that song ? I thought I knew your 
 whole repertory." 
 
 " Oh," said Ned, " we found that last winter. Tune 
 up, Jack. Dick 's got colic in his bagpipes : he 's no 
 good." 
 
 " I did n't catch it quite. No, don't sing it ; say it 
 for me." 
 
 " Well, here it is," said Ned : 
 
 "It was a lorde of the North Countree 
 Cam' wooing a lady of high degree. 
 
412 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEB GREEN 
 
 She wad nae listen, she would nae hear; 
 Till a wee bird sang in that lorde's ear: 
 
 " ' When spring-tide leaves are fair to see 
 Brave little wooers we birdies be. 
 Give me for love-luck bannocks three, 
 And I will pay a fairy fee.' 
 
 " ' Ye shall hae bannocks fair and free 
 For aU the birds in the North Countree.' 
 Up and whistled the little bird friend, 
 'Wise folks begin where ither folk end.' 
 
 " Gay laughed that lorde. Nae more said he. 
 But thrioe he kissed that fair ladye. 
 He kissed till she was red to see ; 
 And they 're awa' to the North Countree." 
 
 " And is that your notion of wooing, Mr. Ned ? " 
 
 " Rose she says it 's a horrid song." 
 
 " Ton just ask her," said Dick. " Hang that pie ! " 
 
 Carington, laughing, stepped into his canoe, and 
 settled himself in easy comfort against the baggage 
 piled up behind him. " See you soon, boys." 
 
 Then he said, " Michelle, you may drop me at the 
 point where Miss Lyndsay is. I shall walk up." 
 
 "WeU!" he said to himself. "The family seem 
 unanimous. It would be rather funny if — if it was n't 
 something else." 
 
 After this he gave himself up to his thoughts, and 
 what fair cheer the June evening offered. . The good 
 mother-nature was all in sympathy, and, f oreseeiag in 
 her prophetic heart the drama about to be, had set out 
 the stage and its scenery with pleasant prevision. 
 
 For here was a stretch of rippled river, where the 
 bidden stones set the waters a-dancing, and there they 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 413 
 
 rolled liigh, and anon were possessed of a coy quiet- 
 ness in nooks below the trees, where red and white 
 tangles of rootlets swayed in the current and had their 
 fill as a reward of adventurous growth. The sun was 
 just over a far hill, and low, so that all the long broad 
 reach was aglow with many colors, to which the sky 
 above and the stones below lent variety of help, that 
 none might hope to explain or paint it, and that only 
 the pure joy of it should be left in the heart of man. 
 
 And for it all this young fellow in the canoe was 
 open enough, glad to get from the sensual tropic 
 zone to the cool wholesomeness of that he saw. Now 
 and then he caught sight of the red shelter on the 
 point, and tingled, for this love had been fed with 
 mere memories these many months, and now he had 
 won the sweet courage which is a thing native to the 
 wild woods, and wUts in the hordes of men. 
 
 Across the waters a mighty wreckage of vast rocks 
 lay, where untold years since they fell in some ele- 
 mental strife from the granite fortress which still 
 towered high in air. Along its battlements a few 
 grim warder pines kept their eenturied watches. 
 
 On the beach opposite To-Day sat, and mocked 
 with colors the massive ruin, untroubled by its mys- 
 tery. To-Day was a maid in a pink gown, for pretti- 
 ness — standing, sketch in hand, to see, with head on 
 one side, if her sketch had got the vigor of these 
 fallen rocks. 
 
 Nature, liking love-afiEairs, had decoyed the maid 
 into a moment of statuesque repose, and, knowing 
 well her business, had set back of her a bold gray 
 rock, deep sunk in ferns. Against its sternness the 
 
414 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AKE GREEN 
 
 strength of virginal curves stood out, very fair to see. 
 Meanwhile the canoe drew nearer, running close to 
 shore. 
 
 At last Carington leaped on the beach, and came 
 straight to where she stood, flushed of a sudden, and 
 with downward hands holding the picture, 
 
 " Grood evening." 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Carington!" 
 
 "That will do, Michelle. Don't wait. I shaU 
 walk." 
 
 The canoe was off and away as she said : 
 
 "It must be four mUes. Is n't it a rather rough 
 walk?" 
 
 " It is nearer five. How are yon ? How is every 
 one ? I can't tell you how glad I am to see you." 
 
 " How dreadfully brown you are ! " 
 
 " Cuban sun. Miss Lyndsay. I am told it is be- 
 coming." 
 
 "Indeed! Who told you?" 
 
 " A young woman on the steamer." 
 
 "Indeed." 
 
 Here she glanced down the river, and resumed her 
 place on the rock. 
 
 "You may sit down there. Please give me that 
 color-box. Those pines are so hard to get in." 
 
 " Thank you. I shaU sit when I am made welcome. 
 You have not said so much as that you are glad to 
 see me." 
 
 " That was stupid of me. Of course I am glad to 
 see you. How did you like Cuba ? " 
 
 " It was very hot." 
 
 "Was that the extent of your observation? It 
 
"WHEN ALL THE WOODS ARE GREEN 415 
 
 seems rather limited. Do you think that lower stone 
 is purple enough 1 Purple is such a difficulty ! " 
 
 " I wish you would not paint now." 
 
 " Why not ? But I must. I shall never get just 
 this light again. It is the most important thing in 
 life — that rock." 
 
 " Let me see." He took the sketch and put it aside, 
 out of her reach. 
 
 " Please," she said. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " But I shall — I shaU be angry." 
 
 " Tou have had your way too long. You get what- 
 ever you want. It is very demoralizing." 
 
 " But I never got my gold dollar." This was un- 
 wise. 
 
 " No ; you never wiU." 
 
 She was silent now, foreseeing trouble. 
 
 Meanwhile he sat on the ferns at her feet. As she 
 spoke, her color-box feU. Carington set it aside. She 
 made no further remonstrance. 
 
 " What o'clock is it, Mr. Carington ? " 
 
 " Tou are here till six. Tou can't get away. What 
 is the use of asking the time 1 " 
 
 "I don't know." 
 
 "I do. It is my hour, Rose Lyndsay." And he 
 looked up. "For a year we have been seeing one 
 another in the midst of a fog of conventionalities, 
 and the game has been all in your hands. One can- 
 not love and respect a woman and wish to force her 
 to abrupt decisions, and she can always escape. I 
 have waited." 
 
 " Please — it is dreadful ! I beg of you." 
 
416 WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GEEEN 
 
 "No. I have been very patient, but I am so no 
 longer. We are here alone : a man and a woman. 
 The world of defense and excuses is far away." 
 
 " Oh, if you only knew ! It is so hard ! If you 
 think I have been happy this winter, you little know." 
 
 " How long is this indecision to last 1! " 
 
 " I do not know." 
 
 "It is a simple question: Do you care for me? 
 Care ! No ! I want you to say that you love me ! 
 Oh, plainly. Rose Lyndsay, as I have said it until you 
 are weary of it, I dare say." 
 
 " How cruel you are ! I cannot. I ought to be so 
 sure about such a thing ; and I am not — I am not ! " 
 
 " Then I think I will go." He spoke slowly, with 
 measured distinctness. 
 
 "I am sorry," said Rose. "I am more sorry than 
 you can think." 
 
 He made no reply for a moment j but, stUl seated 
 below her on the ferns, put his hands to his head and, 
 looking down at the pebbles, said : 
 
 " I came here resolute to force you to say ' Yes ' or 
 'No.' It seemed easy, away from you. Now that 
 you are beside me, I am helpless. If I loved you less, 
 I could do it. I find it easier to carry my weariness 
 of waiting still longer. You are all my life to me. 
 You have a home and constant loves : I have no 
 one — I am alone ! What others have in life — sisters, 
 brothers — I lack, as you know. And yet — and yet, 
 I cannot force you to a decision. If you are just to 
 my great love. Rose, I must ask you to say — It 
 might be wiser, both for you and for me, if I were to 
 be positive." 
 
WHEN ALL THE WQODS ARE GEEEN 417 
 
 " Oh, no ! no ! " 
 
 " You shall have your way. I will not trouble you 
 again: but, I know you well — you are a woman of 
 sense and courage. If I go, have I not the honest 
 right to expect that some day you will be brave enough 
 just to write to me, yes — or no ? I leave it with you. 
 That ought to set you at ease." 
 
 " But it does not, — it will not. Life is so hard — 
 and I do — I do want to do what is right ! " 
 
 " Have I been too hard ? WeU, good-by." And, so 
 saying, he rose and stood beside her. She glanced 
 up at him, uneasy, pitiful, timid. He put out his 
 hand, " Good-by." She took it, rising as she did so. 
 As she held it, he added : 
 
 " I shall go back to-morrow ; a telegram will explain 
 it. I must not spoil your holiday. Grood-by." 
 
 The hand she gave stayed passive in his grasp. 
 
 " Let me see you once, Rose, before I go. I mean, 
 look up." 
 
 She lifted her gaze, and, as his eyes met hers, he 
 saw. 
 
 " Rose ! " 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " You love me ! " 
 
 " No — no. Oh, I don't know ! " 
 
 Then he caught her in his arms and kissed her, and 
 all her soul went out to him in one great sob of joy and 
 love ; and in the sweet pain of it she fell to crying, 
 the fair head on his shoulder. 
 
 " Oh, Fred! Fred ! " It was all that she could say. 
 
 " Are you sorry ? " 
 
 « No ! No ! " 
 
418 WHEN AliL THE WOODS AEE GKEEN 
 
 '' And you are sure ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then don't cry any more." 
 
 " I can't — can't help it. I am so — so glad." 
 
 She stood and took his two hands, and said, " I was 
 afraid, I was not sure. Now I know ; it is for always I " 
 
 "Yes, Rose. Sit down, dear." And again he fell 
 on the ferns beside her, and they talked in the tongue 
 of the new land they had found, looking before and 
 after, and asking no more of life than the golden- 
 freighted minutes brought. 
 
 Meanwhile the sun fell behind the hUl, and the glow 
 of blue and orange light on the waters faded to dusky 
 brown. Tree and rock grew slowly less distinct as 
 the shadows crossed the stream ; but on their world 
 another sun arose, and with touch of hands they 
 stayed, talking of the life of love and duty and com- 
 mon helpfulness which lay broad and beautiful before 
 their eyes. 
 
 At last they heard the paddles, and their hands fell 
 apart. 
 
 "How late you are, boys ! " 
 
 " Yes ; the trout were rising. I 'm awful sorry," said 
 Ned. 
 
 " So are we," returned Carington. " "We have been 
 horribly bored — Miss Rose and I. I will go up in 
 your boat, Miss Lyndsay, if I may. It is late to walk." 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 She had now a little gold dollar in her shut hand, and 
 was silent enough, till he left her at the Cliff Camp. 
 
 She went up the steps slowly. What had an hour 
 done with and for her ? She was very happy. 
 
WHEN ALL THE WOODS AEE GREEN 419 
 
 "Pleasant, is n't it?" said Anne. "Get a good 
 sketch, dear? Mama and your father are still out. 
 Come here, nearer; what is the matter with you ? " 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
 "Was n't that Mr. Carington I heard on the 
 beach?" 
 
 " Yes. He stopped when he saw me sketching." 
 
 " Yes. Come and kiss me, Eose." 
 
 The girl bent over her. 
 
 " I am so glad ! " 
 
 "Glad? Why?" 
 
 " Go and wash your face, and change that ribbon, 
 Miss Ostrich; but, for heaven's sake, don't let Mar- 
 garet know I guessed it." 
 
 "No! no! Dear Aunt Anne! I am so very 
 happy ! " 
 
 " And I, my darling." 
 
 "WmPardyUkeit?" 
 
 " Very much." 
 
 "AndMardy?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Oh, here they come, — I must run. I want — I 
 want to be alone, just a little." 
 
 " Kiss me again. Rose." 
 
 Then the girl fled in haste; but Anne said, "And 
 now I should like to live a little longer." 
 

 
 mHHn 
 II! 
 
 
 Ift^ 
 
 
 irmn^. 
 
 m