I I ~ I~_ Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and fifty-two, by HARPER & BROTHERS, in thie Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of New York. I P R E F A C E. THE design of the series of volumes, entitled MA/RCO PAUL'S ADVENTURES IN THE PURSUIT OF KNOWLEDGE, is not merely to entertain the reader with a narrative of juvenile adventures, but also to communicate, in connection with them, as extensive and varied information as possible, in respect to the geography, the scenery, the customs and the institutions of this country, as they present themselves to the observation of the little traveler, who makes his excursions under the guidance of an intelligent and well-informed companion, qualified to assist him in the acquisition of knowledge and in the formation of character. The author has endeavored to enliven his narrative, and to infuse into it elements of a salutary moral influence, by means of personal incidents befalling the actors in the story. These incidents are, of course, imaginary -* -.0 P R E!A C E. but the reader may rely upon the strict and exact truth and fidelity of all the descriptions of places, institutions and scenes, which are brought before his mind in the progress of the narrative. Thus, though the author hopes that the readers who may honor these volumes with their perusal, will be amused and interested by them, his design throughout will be to instruct rather than to entertain vi CONTENTS. CHAP't ER I.-JOURNEYING, II.-ACCIDENTS,.. III.-THE GRASS COUNTRY, IV.-THE VILLAGE,. V.-STUDYING,.. VI. —TE LOG CANOE,. VII.-A DILEMMA, VIII.-A CONrFESSION,.. IX.-BOATIi,NG,. X.-AN EXPEDITION,. XI.-T,osT rIN THE WOODS,. * * I PAGI . 11 26 . 44 62 . 80 98 . 116 135 . 152 171 . 191 ENGRAVINGS. THE GREAT ELM, THE HILL,. THE ACCIDENT, WVHO ARE YOU?. THE LUMB3ER Box, THE TIRE,. THE RISK,. THE STUDY, M{ARCO'S DESI, THE LUMBER Box,..........................53 THE TIRE. THE RISK.................................77 THE STUDY,.....................................81 MARCO'S DESK.............................93 BOAT ADRIFT...................................106 CAP GONE................................112 THE MILLMANS HOUSE......................118 PADDLING.......................................122 BOAT ADRIFT.. CAP GONE,. THE MILL~IAN'S HOUSE, PADDLING, MARco's Room,. Toss,... BAD ROWING,. GOOD ROWING.. THE PORTAGE,. THE EXPEDITION. THE DRAG, THE SCHOOL HousE,. THE RIDE, . o.. PAGE 14 24 34 46 53 70 77 81 93 106 112 118 122 137 157 160 169 177 186 190 197 208 I.-IN NEW YORK. II.-ON THE ERIE CANAL. III.-IN MAINE. IV.-IN VERMONT. V.-IN BOSTON. VI.-AT THE SPRINGFIELD ARMORY. ORDER OF THE VOLT.T/AESo 4 - 0. 3tarr V, aat PRINCIPAL PERSONS MR. BARON, a merchant of New York. MARCO, his son, a boy about twelve years old. JOHN FORESTER, Marco's cousin, about nineteen years old. Marco is traveling and studying under Forester's care. MARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. CHAPTER I. JOUR NE YIN G. Situation of Vermont. HEN Mr. Baron, Marco's father, put Marco under his cousin Forester's care, it was his intention that he should spend a considerable part of his time in traveling, and in out-of-door exercises, such as might tend to reestablish his health and strengthen his constitution. He did not, however, intend to have him give up the study of books altogether. Accordingly, at one time, for nearly three months, Marco remained at Forester's home, among the Green Mountains of Vermont, where he studied several hours every day. It was in the early part of the autumn, that he and Forester went to Vermont. They traveled in the stage-coach. Vermont lies upon one side of the Connecticut river, and New Hampshire upon the other side. The Green Plan for Marco. 2 lMARCO PAUL IN VERMlON''. Lake George. Lake Chaminplain. Mountains extend up and down, through the middle of Vermont, from north to south, and beyond these mountains, on the western side of the state, is lake Champlain, which extends from north to south also, and forms the western boundary. Thus, the Green Mountains divide the state into two great portions, one descending to the eastward, toward Connecticut river, and the other to the westward, toward lake Champlain. There are, therefore, two great ways of access to Vermont from the states south of it; one up the Connecticut river on the eastern side, and the other along the shores of lake George and lake Champlain on the western side. There are roads across the Green Mountains also, leading from the eastern portion of the state to the western. All this can be seen by looking upon any map of Vermont. Marco and Forester went up by the Connecticut river. The road lay along upon the bank of the river, and the scenery was very pleasant. They traveled in the stage-coach; for there were very few railroads in those days. The country was cultivated and fertile, and the prospect from the windows of the coach was very fine. Sometimes wide meadows and intervales extended along the river,-and at JOURNEYING. Valley of the Connecticut. Various stages. other places, high hills, covered with trees, advanced close to the stream. They could see, too, the farms, and villages, and green hills, across the river, on the New Hampshire side. On the second day of their journey, they turned off from the river by a road which led into the interior of the country; for the village where Forester's father resided was back among the mountains. They had new companions in the coach too, on this second day, as well as a new route; for the company which had been in the coach the day before were to separate in the morning, to go off in different directions. Several stage-coaches drove up to thie door of the tavern in the morning, just after breakfast, with the names of the places where they were going to, upon their sides. One was marked, " Haverhill and Lancaster;" another, "Middlebury;" and a third, "Concord and Boston;" and there was one odd-looking vehicle, a sort of carryall, open in front, and drawn by two horses, which had no name upon it, and so Marco could not tell where it was going. As these several coaches and carriages drove up to the door, the hostlers and drivers put on the baggage and bound it down with great straps, and then handed in the passengers;-and thus 13 The passengers. 14 MARCO PAUL IN VERMO NT. The elm-tree. the coaches, one after another, drove away. The wvhole movement formed a very busy scene, and Marco, standing upon the piazza in front of the tavern, enjoyed it very much. There was a very large elm-tree before the door, with steps to climb up, and seats among the branches. Marco went up there and sat some time, looking down upon the coaches as they wheeled round the tree, in coming up to the door. Then he went down to the piazzai again. THE, GREAT El,,. J o J R N EY ING. Her orange-tree. There was a neatly-dressed young woman, with a little flower-pot in her hand, standing near him, waiting for her turn. There was a small orange-tree in her flower-pot. It was about six inches high. The sight of this orange-tree interested Marco very much, for it reminded him of home. He had often seen orange-trees growing in the parlors and greenhouses in New York. "What a pretty little orange-tree!" said Marco. "Where did you get it?" "How did you know it was an orange-tree?" said the girl. " 0, I know an orange-tree well enough," replied Marco. "I have seen them manya time." "Where?" asked the girl. "In New York," said Marco. "Did your orange-tree come from New York?" "No," said the girl. "I planted an orangeseed, and it grew from that. I've got a lemontree, too," she added, " but it is a great deal larger. The lemon-tree grows faster than the orange. My lemon-tree is so large that I couldn't bring it home very well, so I left it in the mill." "In the mill?" said Marco. " Are you a niller?" 15 The factory girl. 16 MARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. Montpelier. The trunk. Mary Williams. The girl laughed. She was a very goodhumored girl, and did not appear to be displeased, though it certainly was not quite proper for Marco to speak in that manner to a stranger. She did not, however, reply to his question, but said, after a pause, "Do you know where the Montpelier stage is?" The proper English meaning of the word stage is a portion of the road, traveled between one resting-place and another. But in the United States it is used to mean the carriage, -being a sort of contraction for stage-coach. "No," said Marco, "we are going in that stage." "I wish it would come along," said the girl, "for I'm tired of watching my trunk." "Where is your trunk?" said Marco. So the girl pointed out her trunk. It was upon the platform of the piazza, near those belonging to Forester and Marco. The girl showed Marco her name, which was Mary Williams, written on a card upon the end of it. "I'll watch your trunk," said Marco, "and you can go in and sit down until the stage comes. Mary AVilliams. JOURNE Y ING. The sailor and his chest. The passengers. Mary thanked him and went in. She was not, however, quite sure that her baggage was safe, intrusted thus to the charge of a strange boy, and so she took a seat near the window, where she could keep an eye upon it. There was a blue chest near these trunks, which looked like a sailor's chest, and Marco, being tired of standing, sat down upon this chest. He had, however, scarcely taken his seat, when he saw a coach with four horses, coming round a corner. It was driven by a small boy not larger than Marco. It wheeled up toward the door, and came to a stand. Some men then put on the sailor's chest and the trunks. Mary Williams came out and got into the coach. She sat on the back seat. Forester and Marco got in, and took their places on the middle seat. A young man, dressed like a sailor, took the front seat, at one corner of the coach. These were all the passengers that were to get in here. When every thing was ready, they drove away. The stage stopped, however, in a few minutes at the door of a handsome house in the town, and took a gentleman and lady in. These new passengers took- places on the back seat, with Mary Williams. a 17 18 MARCo PAUL IN VE RM ONT. Marco and the sailor. This company rode in perfect silence for some time. Forester took out a book and began to read. The gentleman on the back seat went to sleep. Mary Williams and Marco looked out at the windows, watching the changing scenery. The sailor rode in silence; moving his lips now and then, as if he were talking to himself, but taking no notice of any of the company. The coach stopped at the villages which they passed through, to exchange the mail, and sometimes to take in new passengers. In the course of these changes Marco got his place shifted to the forward seat by the side of the sailor, and he gradually got into conversation with him. Marco introduced the conversation, by asking the sailor if he knew how far it was to Montpelier. "No," said the sailor, "I don't keep any reckoning, but I wish we were there." "Why?" asked Marco. "0, I expect the old cart will capsize some where among these mountains, and break our necks for us." Marco had observed, all the morning, that when the coach canted to one side or the other, on account of the unevenness of the road, the sailor alwvays started and looked anxious, as if J OURNEYING. The sailor afraidl. Nature of fear. afraid it was going to be upset. He wondered that a man who had been apparently accustomed to the terrible dangers of the seas, should be alarmed at the gentle oscillations of a stagecoach. "Are you afraid that we shall upset?" asked Marco. "Yes," said the sailor, "over some of these precipices and mountains; and then there'll be an end of us." The sailor said this in an easy and careless manner, as if, after all, he was not much concerned about the danger. Still, Marco was surprised that he should fear it at all. He was not aware how much the fears which people feel, are occasioned by the mere novelty of the danger which they incur. A stage-driver, who is calm and composed on his box, in a dark night, and upon dangerous roads, will be alarmed by the careening of a ship under a gentle breeze at sea,-while the sailor who laughs at a gale of wind on the ocean, is afraid to ride in a carriage on land. "An't you a sailor?" asked Mlarco. " Yes," replied his companion. c I shouldn't think that a man that had been 19 Nature of fear. 20 MARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. e sailor's story. His charsctor. used to the sea, would be afraid of upsetting in a coach." "I'm not a man," said the sailor. "What are you?" said Marco. "I'm a boy. I'm only nineteen years old; though I'm going to be rated seaman next voyage. "Have you just got back from a voyage?" asked Marco. "Yes," said the sailor. "I've been round the Horn in a whaler, fi'om old Nantuck. And now I'm going home to see my mother." "How long since you've seen her?" asked Marco. "0, it's four years since I ran away." Here the sailor began to speak in rather a lower tone than he had done before, so that Marco only could hear. This was not difficult, as the other passengers were at this time engaged in conversation. "I ran away," continued the sailor, "and went to sea about four years ago." "What made you run away?" asked Marco. "0, I didn't want to stay at home and be abused. My father used to abuse me; but my mother took my part, and now I want to go and see her." His character. The sailor's story. J oURNEYING.. Stories of whaling. And to see your father too," said Marco. "No," said the sailor. "I don't care for him. I hope he's gone off somewhere. But I want to see my mother. I have got a shawl for her in mv chest." MIarco was shocked to hear a young man speak in such a manner of his father. Still there was something in the frankness and openness of the sailor's manner, which pleased him verv much. He liked to hear his odd and sailor-like language too, and he accordingly entered into a long conversation with him. The sailor gave him an account of his adventures on the voyage; how he was drawn off from the ship one day, several miles, by a whale which they had harpooned;-how they caught a shark, and hauled him in on deck by means of a pulley at the end of the yard-arm;-and how, on the voyage home, the ship was driven before an awful gale of wind for five days, under bare poles, with terrific seas roaring after them all the Nway. These descriptions took a strong hold of MIarco's imagination. His eye brightened up, and he became restless on his seat, and thought that he would give the world for a chance to stand up in the bow of a boat, and put a harpoon into the neck of a whale. 21 22 MARCO PA U L IN V ER I O NT. The ro'.l. I cidente The s'tilor's proposal. In the ime,an tiotne, the day wore away, and the road led into a more and more mountainous country. The hills were longer and steeper, and the tracts of forest more frequent and solitary. The number of passengers increased too, until the coach was pretty heavily loaded; and sometimes all but the female passengers would get out and walk up the hills. On these occasions Forester and Marco would generally walk together, talking about the incidents of their journey, or the occupations and amusements which they expected to engage in when they arrived at Forester's home. About the middle of the afternoon the coach stopped at the foot of a long winding ascent, steep and stony, and several of the passengers got out. Forester, however, remained in, as he was tired of walking, and so Marco and the sailor walked together. The sailor, finding how much Marco was interested in his stories, liked his company, and at length he asked Marco where he was going. Miarco told him. "iAh, if vou were only going on a, voyage with me," said the sailor, "that would make a man oft von. I wouldn't go and be shut up with that o'1,. prig, poring over books foreveir." hMaio-\ was displeased to hear the sailor call J () URN F EYING. Marco deeltoes it. Marco afraid. his cousin an old prig, and he felt some compunctions of conscience about forming and continuing an intimacy with such a person. Still he was so much interested in hearing him talk, that he continued to walk with him up the hill. Finally, the sailor fairly proposed to him to run away and go to sea with him. " O no," said Marco, "I wouldn't do such a thing for the world. Besides," said he, "they would be after us, and carry me back." " No," said the sailor; "we would cut across the country, traveling in the night and laying to by day, till we got to another stage route, and then make a straight wake, till we got to New Bedford, and there we could get a good voyage. Come," said he, "let's go to-night. I'll turn right about. I don't care a great deal about seeing my mother." Though Marco was a very bold and adventurous sort of a boy, still he was not quite prepared for such a proposal as this. In the course of the conversation the sailor used improper and violent language too, which Marco did not like to hear; and, in fact, Marco began to be a little afraid of his new acquaintance. He determined, as soon as he got back to the coach to keep near Forester all the time,. so as not 23 Mfarco declines it. Marco afraid. 24 MAI.XITCo PAUL IN \'ERItMONT. The sailor ilnvites Marco to take a drink. to be left alone ,::..again with the sail or. He tried to .~~ < hasten on, so as to ;1,.'i~- ~ bovertake the coach, l: j e t i but the sailor told him not to walk so fast; and, being un willing to offend .~. ~ ~ ~'~ him, he was obliged v.-to go slowly, and -_..keep with him; and thus protracted the conversation. About half-way up the hill there was a small tavern, and the sailor wanted Marco to go in with him and get a drink. Marco thought that he meant a drink of water, but it was really a drink of spirits which was intended. Marco, however, refused to go, saying that he was not thirsty; and so they went on up the hill. At the top of the hill, the stage-coach stopped for the pedestrians to come up. There was also another passenger there to get in,-a woman, who came out from a farm-house near by. The driver asked the sailor if he was not willing to ride outside, in order to make room for the new J OURNEYING. 25 The sailor will not ride outside. p)assenger. But he would not. He was afraid. He said he would not ride five miles outside for a month's wages. Marco laughed at the sailor's fears, and he immediately asked Forester to let him ride outside. Forester hesitated, but on looking up, and seeing that there was a secure seat, with a good place to hold on, he consented. So MIarco clambered up and took his seat with the driver, while the other passengers re-established themselves in the sture. 26 - ARCO PAUL 1IN VERMONT. bIarco outside. CHAPTER II. A C CI D E NT S. ARCO liked his seat upon the outside of the stage-coach very much. He could see the whole country about him to great advantage. He was very much interested in the scenery, not having been accustomed to travel among forests and mountains. The driver was a rough young man,-for the boy who drove the coach up to the door was not the regular driver. He was not disposed to talk much, and his tone and manner, in what he did say, did not indicate a very gentle disposition. Marco, however, at last got a little acquainted with him, and finally proposed to the driver to let himi drive. "Nonsense," said he, in reply, "you are not big enough to drive such a team as this." "Why, there was a boy, no bigger than I, that drove the horses up to the door when we started, this morning," replied Marco. "0 yes,-Jerry,"-said the driver,-" but he'll break his neck one of these days." Jerry. A (,C I D E N T' S. 5dartco's fo)rbearanice. "I didn't see but that he drove very well," said Marco. The driver was silent. "Come," persisted Marco, "let me drive a little way, and I'll do as much for you some day." "You little fool," said the driver, "you never can do any thing for me. You are not big enough to be of any use at all." MIarco thought of the fable of the mouse and the lion, but since his new companion was in such ill-humor, he thought he would say no more to him. A resentful reply to the epithet " little fool," did in fact rise to his lips, but he suppressed it and said nothing. It was fortunate for Marco that he did so. For whenever any person has said any thing harsh, unjust, or cruel, the most effectual reply is, generally, silence. It leaves the offender to think of what he has said, and conscience will often reprove him in silence, far more effectually than words could do it. This was the ease i-i this instance. As they rode along in silence, the echo of the words "little fool," and the tone in which he had uttered them, lingered upon the driver's ear. He could not help thinking 227 Marco asks to drive. 28 1MARCO PAUL IN VERtMON'T. Merco drivce. lie succeeds very well. that he had been rather harsh with his little passenger. Presently he said, "I don't care though,-we are coming to a level piece of ground on ahead here a little way, and then I'll see what you can make of team ing." Marco was quite pleased at this unexpected result, and after ten or fifteen minutes, they caine to the level piece of road, and the driver put the reins into Marco's hand. Marco had sometimes driven two horses, when riding out with his father in a barouche, up the Bloomingdale road in New York. He was therefore not entirely unaccustomed to the handling of reins; and he took them fiom the driver's hand and imitated the manner of holding them which he had observed the driver himself to adopt, quite dexterously. The horses, in fact, needed very little guidance. They went along the road very quietly of their own accord. Marco kept wishing that a wagon or something else would come along, that he might have the satisfaction of turning out. But nothing of the kind appeared, and he was obliged to content himself with turning a little to one side, to avoid a stone. At the end of th-e level piece of road there was a tavern. MIarco drives. Ile succeeds very well. ACCIDENTS. The tavern. wvhere they were going to stop, to change the horses, and Marco asked the driver to let him turn the horses up to the door. The driver consented, keeping a close watch all the time, ready to seize the reins again at a moment's notice, if there had been any appearance of difficulty. But there was none. Marco guided the horses right, and drawing in the reins with all his strength, he brought them up properly at the door; or rather, he seemed to do it,-for, in reality, the horses probably acted as much of their own accord, being accustomed to stop at this place, as from any control which Marco exercised over them through the reins. There was, however, an advantage in this evolution, for Marco became accustomed to the feeling of the reins in his hand, and acquired a sort of confidence in his power over the horses, -greater to be sure than there was any just ground for, but which was turned to a very important account, a few hours afterward, as will be seen in the sequel. The sailor went several times into the taverns on the way, in the course of the afternoon, to drink, until, at length, he became partially intoxicated. He felt, however, so much restrained in the presence of the passengers with 29 30 AlAitCO PAUL IN VERMIIONT. The sailor's drinks. in the coach, that he did not become talkative and noisy, as is frequently the case in such circumstances; but was rather stupid and sleepy. In fact, no one observed that any change was taking place in his condition, until, at last, as he was coming out from the door of a tavern, where he had been in to get another drink, the driver said, "Come, Jack, you must get up with me now, there is another passenger to get in here." Marco, who was still in his seat, holding the reins of the horses, looked down, expecting that the sailor would make objections to this proposal,-but he found, on the contrary, that Jack, as they called him, acquiesced without making any difficulty, and allowed the driver to help him up. The new passenger got inside. Forester felt somewhat uneasy at having Marco ride any longer on the top, especially now that the sailor was going up too. But the coach was full. He himself was wedged into his seat, so that he could not get out easily. He knew, too, that two or three of the passengers were going to get out at the next stage, and so he concluded to let Marco remain outside until that time, and then to take him in again. Marco's admiration for the sail:,rI was very His condition. ACC II)ENTS. The sailor ill danger. much diminished when he saw how helpless he had rendered himself by his excesses, and how unceremoniously the driver pulled and hauled him about, in getting him into his seat. " There! hold on there," said the driver to him, in a stern voice,-" hold on well, or you'll be down head foremost under the horses' heels, at the first pitch we come to." The poor sailor said nothing, but grasped an iron bar which passed from the top of the coach down by the side of the seat, and held on as well as he could. They rode on in this manner for some miles, the head of the sailor swinging back and forth, helplessly, as if he was nearly asleep. Whenever Marco or the driver spoke to him, he either answered in a thick and sleepy tone of voice, or he did not reply at all. Marco watched him for a time, being continually afraid that he would fall off. He could do nothing, however, to help him, for he himself was sitting at one end of the seat while the sailor was upon the other, the driver being between them. In the mean time the sun gradually went down and the twilight came on, and as the shadows extended themselves slowly over the landscape, Marco began to find riding outside less pleasant 31 Evening. 32 I[ARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. Bridge. A jolt. Effects of it, than it had been before, and he thought that, on the whole, he should be very glad when the time arrived for him to get into the coach again, with his cousin. At length they came to a bridge, covered with planks, which led across a small stream. It was in rather a solitary place, with woods on each side of the road. Beyond the bridge there was a level piece of road for a short distance, and then a gentle ascent, with a farmhouse near the top of it, on the right hand side of the road. At the end of the bridge, between the planks and the ground beyond them, there was a jolt, caused by the rotting away of a log which had been imbedded in the ground at the beginning of the planking. As it was rather dark, on account of the shade of the trees, the driver did not observe this jolt, and he was just beginning to put his horses to the trot, as they were leaving the bridge, when the forward wheels struck down heavily into the hollow, giving the firont of the coach a sudden pitch forward and downward. Marco grasped the iron bar at his end of the seat, and saved himself; and the driver, who was habitually on his guard, had his feet so braced against the fender before him, that he would not have fallen. But the poor A C C I D E N S. A fall. sailor, entirely unprepared for the shock, and perhaps unable to resist it if he had been prepared, pitched forward, lost his hold, went over the fender, and wsas tumbling down, as the driver had predicted, head foremost, under the horses' heels. The driver seized hold of hir with one hand, but finding this insufficient dropped his reins and tried to grasp him with both. In doing it, however, he lost his own balance and went over too. He, of course, let go of the sailor, when he found that he was going himself. The sailor fell heavily and helplessly between the pole and the si(le of one of the horses, to the ground. The driver followved. He seized the pole with one hand, but was too late to save himself entirely, and thinking there was danger of being dragged, and finding that the horses were springing forward in a firight, he let himself drop through to the gr)?uiid also. The coach passed over them in a moment, as the horses cantered on. All this passed in an instant, and Marco, before he had a moment's time for reflection, found himself alone on his seat,-the driver run over and perhaps killed, and the horses cantering away, withl the reins dangling about their heels. The first impulse, in such a case, would be to ( 33 T-LE A1CC'IDEN T. scre-in aloud, in terror,-wvhich would have oily made the lhorses r-un the faster. But Marco \as not very easily f,N ghteued; at least, he was not easily made Crazy by fright. So ti did not -crulea' and niot kinowingii what else to do, he sat still ad did nothina In the mie ni timre, tlhe r.assenl-s inside ikniew nothinyg of all this. (fny of thIem had b)een asleep when thev came over tne bridge. The jolt bud arousecd them a hittle, but thero w\V AcC CID E TS. 35 Marco's danger. nothing to indicate to them the accident which lhad occurred forward, so they quietly adjusted themselves in their seats, and endeavored to compose themselves to sleep again. Tile horses were well trained and gentle. They cantered on as far as the level ground extended, and then they slackened their pace as they began to rise the ascent. The idea then occurred to Marco, that perhaps he might clam-ber down over the fender to the pole, and then walk along upon that a little way till he could gather up the reins. Then he thought that if he could get back again with them to tile driver's seat, perhaps he could stop the horses. Marco was an expert climber. He had learned this art in his gymnasium at New York; so that he had no fears in respect to his being able to get down and back again. The only danger was, lest he might frighten the horses again and set them to running anew. After a moment's reflection, he concluded that at any rate he would try it; so he cautiouslv,tepped over the fender and clambered down. — %hen his feet reached the pole, he rested them a moment upon it, and clung with his hands to the fender and other parts of the front of the noach. Hie fi,In,' his positi-)Li here more an 36 A I C O P A U L IN VERi IO N'r. He clambors down. He recovers the reins. stable than he had expected; for the coach being upon sprirngs, the forward part rose and fell with many jerks and surges, as the horses traveled swiftly along, while the pole was held in its position straight and firm. Thus the different parts of his body were connected with different systems of motion, which made his position very uncomfortable. HIe found, however, after a moment's pause, that he could stand, and probably walk upon the pole; so he advanced cautiously, putting his hands on the backs of the horses, and wallking along on the pole between them. The horses were somewhat disturbed by the strange sensations which they experienced, and begani to canter again; but Mllarco, who felt more and more confidence every moment, pushed boldly on, gathered up the reins, and got all the ends together. Then taking the ends of the reins in one hand, he crept back, supporting himself by taking hold of the harness of one of the horses with the other hand. By this means he regained the coach, and then, though with some difficulty, he clambered up to his seat again. He then endeavored to stop the horses by geathering the reins together, and pullilng upon 'herni with al] his strength; but it was in vain. He clambers dowi-1. He recovers the reins. .. (,C I D E NTS. p p1ii ill stoplping the horses. Thle horses had by this time reached a part of the road where it was more level, and they began to press forward at a more rapid pace. Alareco thought of calling to Forester to get out of the window and climb along the side of the coach to the box, in order to help him; but just at that moment he saw that they were coming up opposite to the farm house, which had been in sight, at a distance, when they were crossing the bridge. So he thought that though he could not stop the horses, he might perhaps have strength enough to turn them off from the road into the farmer's yard; and that then they could be more easily stopped. In this he succeeded. By pulling the off rein of the leaders wnithl all his strength, he was able to turn them out of the road. The pole horses followed as a matter of course, —the coach came up with a graceful sweep to the farmer's door, and then the horses were easily stopped. The farmei came at once to the door, to see what strange conmpany had come to visit him in the stage,his wife following; while several children crowded to the windows. \Vhat's here?" said a voice from the winc,w of the coach,-" a )ost-office?" They 1), Ile succeeds. AlI A J{ P( W o-f t I N s E It -I N'. Wonder of the passengers. thought the stage had been driven up to the loor of some post-office. Marco did not answer; in fact he was bewildered and confounded at the strangeness of his situation. He looked back over the top of the coach down the road to see what had become of the driver. To his great joy, he saw him running up behind the coach, —his hat crushed out of shape, and his clothes dusty. The passengers looked out at the windows of the stage, exclaiming, "Why, driver! what's the matter?" The driver made no reply. H4e began to brush his clothes,-and, taking off his hat, he attempted to round it out into shape again. "What is the matter, driver?" said the passengers. "Nothing," replied he, "only that drunkard of a sailor tumbled off the stage." "Where?" " When?" exclaimed half a dozen voices. "Is he killed?" "Killed? no," replied the driver; "I don't believe he is even sobered." Forester and another gentleman then urgently asked where he was, and the driver told them that he was "back there a piece," as he expressed it. ACCIDENTS. The driver's charge to Marco. "What! lying in the road?" said Forester; "open the door, and let us go and see to him." "No," said the driver; "he has got off to the side of the road, safe. I don't believe he's hurt any. Let him take care of himself, and we'll drive on." But Forester remonstrated strongly against leaving the poor sailor in such a condition, and in such a place; and finally it was agreed that the farmer should go down the road and see to him, so as to allow the stage-coach with the passengers to go on. Forester was not willing, however, to have Marco ride outside any longer; and so they contrived to make room for him within. As Marco descended from his high seat, the driver said to him, as he passed him, in a low voice, "How did you get the reins? I thought they all came down with me, under the horses' heels." "Yes," said Marco, "they did, and I climbed down upon the pole and got them." " Well," said the driver, " you're a smart boy. But don't tell them inside that I tumbled off. Tell them I gave you the reins, and jumped down to see the sailor." After receiving this charge, Marco would 39 The sailor. 40 iM A R CO PA U I. I N V ER MIONT. Ilstinctive caution of horses. have been under a strong temptation to tell a falsehood, if the company in the coach had asked him any questions about it. But they did not. They were so much occupied in expressing their astonishment that the sailor did not break his neck, that they asked very few questions, and after riding a short time, they relapsed into silence again. The fact that both the driver and the sailor escaped being seriously hurt, was not so wonderful as it might seem. Horses have generally an instinctive caution about not stepping upon any thing under their feet. If a little child were lying asleep in the middle of a road, and a horse were to come galloping along without any rider, the mother, who should see the sight from the window of the house, would doubtless be exceedingly terrified; but in all probability the horse would pass the child without doing it any injury. He would leap over it, or go around it, as he would if it were a stone. This is one reason why, in so many cases, persons are run over without being hurt. The driver and the sailor, however, fell rather behind the horses' heels, and escaped them in that way, and they came down so exactly into the middle of the road, that they '),im1h road. Caution to travelers. were out of the way of the track of the wheels, and thus they escaped serious injury. The misfortunes of the evening, however, did not end here. The road was rather rough, and there were many ruts and joltings; and one or two of the passengers seemed to feel some fear lest the stage should upset. One, who sat near the door, put his arm out at the window over the door, so as to get his hand upon the handle of the catch, in order, as he said, to be ready to open the door and spring out, at a moment's warning. The gentleman on the back seat advised him not to do it. "If you have your arm out," said he, "the coach may fall over upon it, and break it. That's the way people get hurt by the upsetting of coaches, by thrusting out their legs and arms in all directions, when they find they are going )ver, and thus get them broken. You ought to old your arms and draw in your feet, and when Lou find that we are going over, go in an easy Attitude, with all the muscles relaxed, as if your body was a bag of corn." The passenger laughed and took his arm in; and all the other passengers, seeing that the advice of the gentleman was reasonable, concluded to follow it if they should have occasion. ACCIDENT. 41 13 NIIAR('O PAUL IN VERI'MONT. Danger. Coach upset. And they did have occasion sooner than they had expected. For, just after dark, as they wxvere going down a long hill at a pretty rapid rate, with a wagon a short distance before them, one of the horses of the wagon stumbled and fell, which brought the wagon to a sudden stand just before the coach. The driver perceived in an instant that there was not time to stop his horses, and that the only chance was to turn out of the road and drive by. The ground at the road-side was so much inclined, that he was almost afraid to venture this expedient, but he had no time for thought. He wheeled his horses out,-just escaped the hind wheel of the wagon- ran along by the roadside a short distance, with the wheels on one side, down very near the gutter, —and then, just as he was coming back safely into the road again, the forward wheel nearest the middle of the road, struck a small stone, and threw the coach over. The top rested upon the bank, and the horses were suddenly stopped. Sometimes, on such occasions, the transom bolt, as it is called, that is, the bolt by which the forward wheels are fastened to the carriage, comes out, and the horses run off with the wheels. It did not come out in this case, however. The man Daniger. Coach upset. C C I ) E N'1 S. Foolish fears. who had put his arm out of the window, immediately called out, in great alarm, "Hold the horses! Hold the horses! Don't let the horses run and drag us." But this vociferation was needless. A coach full of passengers and baggage is a full load for four horses, when it is mounted on wheels. It would require an exertion far beyond their strength to drag it when on its side. The horses remained quiet, therefore, while the wagoner and the driver, who was not hurt, opened the door in the upper side of the coach. The passengers then climbed out, one by one, without injury. Mary Williams came out last, with her orange-tree safe in her hand. ,t 3 44 MARCo PAULIJ IN VAIRMONT. Large farmhouse. CHAPTER III. THE GRASS COUNTRY. HE scene of confusion, produced by the double accident described in the last chapter, was great, but not long continued. The wagoner got his fallen horse up, and then the passengers, with the driver and wagoner, all taking hold together, soon righted the stage. None of the passengers were hurt, but the coach itself was so much injured that the driver thought it was not safe to load it heavily again. The female passengers got in, but the men walked along by the side of it, intending to travel in that way about four miles to the next tavern. Forester, however, was not inclined to take so long a walk. Fortunately, at a small distance before them, was a farmhouse which looked as if it belonged to a large and thrifty farmer. The great barns and sheds, the neat yards, the well-built walls and fences, and the large stock of cattle in the barn-yard, indicated wealth and prosperity. Forester concluded to a,)lv here for a lodging for the night, for hin THE GRASS COUNTRY. P~~~~~~~~~an~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The room.~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ self and Marco. The farmer was very willing to receive them. So the driver took off their trunks, and then the stage-coach, with the rest of the passengers, went on. " Howv long shall we have to stay here?" asked Marco. Only till to-morrow," said Forester. "Another stage will come along to-morrow. We can stop just as well as not, as we are in no haste to get home. Besides, I should like to have you see something of the operations of a great grass farm." Marco and Forester went into the house, and were ushered into a large room, which seemed to be both sitting-room and kitchen. A large round table was set in the middle of the floor, for supper. A monstrous dog was lying under it, wnith his chin resting upon his paws. There was a great settle in one corner, by the side of the fire. There were chairs also, with straight backs and seats of basket-work, a spinningwheel, an open cupboard, and various other similar objects, which, being so different from the articles of furniture which Marco had been accustomed to see in the New York parlors, attracted his attention very strongly. Marco went and took his seat upon the settle, and the 45 Plans. The rooiii. 4 6M ArCO PAUL IN VERMOIrayT. Marco and the d(log. dog rose and came to him. The dog gazed into his face with an earnest look of inquiry, which plainly said, " Who are you?" while Marco patted him on the head, thereby answering as plainly, "A friend." The dog, perfectly understanding the answer, seemed satisfied, and, turning away, went back to his place again under the table. One of the farmer's younng men carried the trunks into a little bed-room, which opened front the great room; and then the farmer sat down EHO ARE YOU? THiLE GR ASS CoUN''RY. 4 Ar1]goIilei1ts for the night. The hod-morn. and began to enter into conversation with Forester and Marco about their accident. Forester told him also about the sailor, who had tumbled off the coach a mile or two back, and been left behind. Forester said that he should like to know whether he was hurt much. Then the farmer said that he would let him take a horse and wagon the next morning and ride back and inquire. This plan was therefore agreed upon. Marco and Forester ate a good supper with the farmer's family, and then spent the evening in talking, and telling stories about horses, and sagacious dogs, and about catching wild animals in the woods with traps. About nine o'clock the family all assembled for evening prayers. After prayers Marco and Forestel went to bed in their little bed-room, where they slept soundly till morning. In the morning they were both awakened byr the crowing of the cocks, at an early hour. Thley also heard movements in the house and in the yard before sunrise; so they arose and dressed themselves, and after attending to their morning devotions together in their room, t duty which Forester never omitted, they went out. Marco was very much interested in the morning oclinations of the farm. Tihere was 47 for the night. The bedroom. 48 MARCO PAUL IN VEat The farm-yard. the milking of the cows, and the feeding of the various animals, and the pitching off a load of corn, which had been got in the evening before and allowed to stand on the cart, on the barnfloor, over night. The cows were then to be driven to pasture, and the boy who went with them, took a bridle to catch a horse for Forester and MIarco to have for their ride. Forester and MIareo went with him. It was only a short walk to the pasture bars, but they had to ramble about a little while, before they found the horses. At last they found them feeding together at the edge of a grove of trees. There were two or three horses, and several long-tailed colts. The boy caught one of the horses, which he called Nero. Nero was a white horse. Marco mounted him and rode down, with the other horses and the colts following him. They put the horse in the stable until after breakfast, and then harnessed him into the wagon. When all was ready, the farmer told them to bring the sailor along with them to his house, if they found that he was hurt so that he could not travel. When they were seated in the wagon, and had fairly commenced their ride, Marco asked Forester, vwh-at he meant last evening by a grass Catching the horses. THE GRASS CO UN TRY. farm. "You told me," said he, "that you wanted me to see a great grass farm." "Yes," replied Forester. " The farms in this part of the United States may be called grass farms. This is the grass country." "Isn't it all grass country?" asked Marco. "Grass grows everywhere." "Grass is not cultivated everywhere so much as it is among the mountains, in the northern states," replied Forester. " The great articles of cultivation in the United States are grass, grain, and cotton. The grass is cultivated in the northern states, the grain in the middle states, and the cotton in the southern states. Thie grass is food for beasts, the grain is food for man, and the cotton is for clothing. These different kinds of cultivation are not indeed exclusive in the different districts. Some grass is raised in the middle and southern states, and some grain is raised in the northern states; but, in general, the great agricultural production of the northern states is grass, and these farms among the mountains in Vermont are grass farms. "There is one striking difference," continued Forester, " between the grass farms of the north, and the grain farms of the middle states, D 49 A grass farm. Uses of grass. 50 MARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. Cultivation of grass. Grass and cotton. or the cotton plantations of the south. The grass cultivation brings with it a vast variety of occupations and processes on the farm, making the farm a little world by itself; whereas the grain and the cotton cultivation are far more simple, and require much less judgment and skill. This is rather remarkable; for one would think that raising food for beasts would require less skill than raising food or clothes for man. "I should have thought so," said Marco. "The reason for the difference is," replied Forester, "that in raising food for animals, it is necessary to keep the animals to eat it, on the spot, for it will not bear transportation." "Why not?" said Marco. "Because it is so cheap," replied Forester. "I don't think that is any reason," replied Marco. "A load of grass"- said Forester. "A load of grass!" repeated Marco, laughing. "Yes, dried grass, that is, hay. Hay, you know, is grass dried to preserve it." "Very well," said Marco; "go on." "A load of grass, then, is so cheap, that the cost of hauling it fifty miles would be more than it is worth. But cotton is worth a great deal Cultivation of grass. Grass and cotton. TIE GRASS COUN TRY. Transportation. more, in proportion to its bulk. It can therefore be transported to distant places to be sold and manufactured. Thus the enormous quantity of cotton which grows every summer in the southern states, is packed in bags, very tight, and is hauled to the rivers and creeks, and there it is put into steamboats and sent to the great seaports, and at the seaports it is put into ships, which carry it to England or to the northern states, to be manufactured; and it is so valuable, that it will bring a price sufficient to pay all the persons that have been employed in raising it, or in transporting it. But the grass that grows in the northern countries can not be transported. The mnills for manufacturing cotton may be in one country, and the cotton be raised in another, and then, after the cotton is gathered, it may be packed and sent thousands of miles to be manufactured. But the sheep and oxen which are to eat the hay, can not be kept in one country, while the grass which they feed upon grows in another. The animals must live, in general, on the verv farm which the grass grows upon. Thus, while the cotton cultivator has nothing to do but to raise his cotton and send it to market, the grass cul!ivato l must not only raise his gr'ass, but lie 51 52 MARcO PAUL IN VERMON''. Northern and southern states. must provide fobr and take care of all the animals which are to eat it. This makes the agriculture of the northern states a far more complicated business, because the care of animals run.~ into great detail, and requires great skill, and sound judgment, and the exercise of constant discretion. You observe," continued Forester, "that it is by the intervention of animals that the farmer gets the product of his land into such a shape that it will bear transportation. For instance, he feeds out his hay to his sheep, attending them with care and skill all the winter. In the spring he shears off their fleeces; and now he has got something which he can send to market. He has turned his grass into wool, and thus got its value into a much more compact form. The wool will bear transportation. Perhaps he gave a whole load of hay to his sheep, to produce a single bag of wool. So the bag of wool is worth as much as the load of hay, and is very much more easily carried to markaet. He can put it upon his lumber-box, and drive off fifty miles with it, to market, without any difficulty." " His lumber-box?" asked Marco. "W h. at is that?" Wool. TH E G RAss Co t, N''R Y. Lumber-boxes. "Didn't you ever see a lumber-box?" asked Forester.' It is a :quare box, on run-. i_ ners, like those of A sleigh. The far-i mers have them to haul their produce to market." Why do they call it a lumberbox?" asked Ma-/ co. "W Thy, when the - country was first l LUMBER-X. settled, they used to carry lumber to market principally; that is, bundles of shingles and clapboards, which they made from timber cut in the woods. It requires some time for a new farm, made in the forests, to get into a condition to produce much grass for cattle. I suppose that it was in this way that these vehicles got the name of lumberboxes. You will see a great many of them, in ihe winter season, coming down from every part of the country, toward the large towns oi the rivers, filled with produce." 53 .54 MAI',PCO PAUL IN VEI,MON T. Boef. Gojug to market. Drovers. "What else do the farmers turn their grass into, besides wool?" asked Marco. "Into beef," said Forester. "They raise cows and oxen. They let them eat the grass as it grows, all summer, and in the winter they feed them with what they have cut and dried and stored in the barn for them. The farmers are all ambitious to cut as much hay as they can, and to keep a large stock of cattle. Thus they turn the grass into beef, and the beef can be easily transported. In fact, it almost transports itself." "How do you mean?" asked Marco. "Why, the oxen and cows, when they are fat and ready for market, walk off in droves to Boston, to be killed. They don't kill them where they are raised, for then they would have to haul away the beef in wagons or sleighs, but make the animals walk to market themselves, and kill them there. But the farmers don't generally take their own cattle to market. Men go about the country, and call upon the fariners, and buy their cattle, and thus collect great droves. These men are called drovers, In traveling in this part of the country, late in the fall, vou would see great droves of cattle Beef. Going to market. Drovers. T HE GRAS S CoUNT R Y. Brighton market. Horses. and sheep, passing along the road, all going to Boston, or rather Brighton." "Where is Brighton?" asked Marco. "It is a town very near Boston, where the great cattle market is held. The Boston dealers come out to Brighton, and buy the cattle, and have them slaughtered, and the beef packed and sent away all over the world. Thus the farmers turn the grass into beef, and in that shape it can be transported and sold." "And what else?" asked Marco. Why, they raise a great many horses in Vermont," replied Forester. " These horses live upon grass, eating it as it grows in the pastures and on the mountains, in the summer, and being fed upon hay in the barn in the winter. These horses, when they are four or five years old, are sent away to market to be sold. They can be transported very easily. A man will ride one, and lead four or five by his side. They will be worth perhaps seventy-five dollars apiece; so that one man will easily take along with him, three or four hundred dollars' worth of the produce of the farm, in the shape of horses; whereas the hay which had been consumed on the farm to make these horses, it would have taken forty yoke of oxen to move." 55 56 MARCO PAUL IN VERMONTr. Vermont horses. Care of animals. "Forty yoke!" repeated Marco. "I don't mean to be exact," said Forester. ' I mean it would take a great many. So that, by feeding his hay out to horses, the farmer gets his produce into a better state to be transported to market. The Vermont horses go all over the land. Thus you see that the farmers in tihe grass country have to turn the vegetable products which they raise, into animal products, before they can get them to market; and as the rearing of animals is a work which requires a great deal of attention, care, patience, and skill, the cultivators must be men of a higher class than those which are employed in raising cotton, or even than those who raise grain. The animals must be watched and guarded while they are young. There are a great many different diseases, and accidents, and injuries which they are exposed to, and it requires constant watchfulness, and considerable intelligence, to guard against them. This makes a great difference in the character which is required in the laborers, in the different cases. A cotton plantation in the south can be cultivated by slaves. A grain farm in the middle states can be worked by hired laborers; but a northern grass farm, with all its oxen, cows. THE GRASS COUNTRY. ctivation of ootton. The planter. sheep, poultry, and horses, can only be successfully managed by the work of the owner." "Is that the reason why they have slaves at the south?" asked Marco. "It is a reason why slaves can be profitable at the south. In cultivating cotton or sugar, a vast proportion of all the work done in the year is the same. Almost the whole consists of a few simple processes, such as planting, hoeing, picking cotton, &c., and this is to be performed on smooth, even land, where set tasks can be easily assigned. But the work on a grass farm is endlessly varied. It would not be possible to divide it into set tasks. And then it is of such a nature, that it could not possibly be performed successfully by the mere labor of the hands. The mind must be employed upon it. For instance, even in getting in hay, in the summer season, the farmer has to exercise all his judgment and discretion to avoid getting it wet by the summer showers, and yet to secure it in good time, and with proper dispatch. A cotton planter may hire an overseer to see to the getting in of his cotton, and he can easily tell by the result, whether he has been faithful or not. But hay can not be got in well, without the activity, and energy, and good judgment, which 57 Cultivation of cotton. The planter. 58 WMARCO PAIJL IN VERMONT. Large grass farms. can come only from the presence and immediate supervision of an owner. This produces vast differences in the nature of the business, and in the whole state of society in the two regions." "What are the differences?" asked Marco. Why, in the first place," said Forester, "the fact that cotton and sugar can be cultivated by hired overseers, with slaves to do the work, enables rich men to carry on great plantations without laboring themselves. But a great grass farm could not be managed so. A man may have one thousand acres for his plantation at the south, and with a good overseer and good hands, it will all go on very well, so far as his profit is concerned. They will produce a great amount of cotton, which may be sent to market and sold, and the planter realize the money, so as to make a large profit after paying all his expenses. But if a man were to buy a thousand acres of grass land, and employ an overseer and slaves to cultivate it, every thing would go to ruin. The hay would get wet and spoiled,-the carts, wagons, and complicated tools necessary, would get broken to pieces,-the lambs would be neglected and die, and the property would soon go to destruction. TIr H GRASs Co UN TRY. Mr. \Varner's farm. Difficulties. Even when a rich man attempts to carry on a moderate farm by hired laborers, taking the best that he can find, he seldom succeeds." Does he ever succeed?" said Marco. "Yes," replied Forester," sometimes. There is Mr. Warner, who lives near my father's; he was brought up on a farm, and is practically acquainted with all the work. He has been very successful, and has a very large farm. He works now very little himself, but he watches every thing with the greatest care, and he succeeds very well. He has a great stock. He cuts fifty tons of hay." "I should like to see his farm," said Marco. We'll go some day," replied Forester. "So you see," continued Forester, "that the work of a cotton or sugar plantation, is comparatively simple and plain, requiring little judgment or mental exertion, and a great deal of plain straightforward bodily labor; while on a northern stock farm the labors are endlessly varied. Every month, every week, and almost every day brings some change. New emergencies are constantly arising, which call for deliberation and judgment. It is necessary to have a great variety of animals, in order to consume all the different productions of the 59 M,r.:Varnier's farm. Difficultics. t)O MARCO PAUL IN VERMON1. Nero. The sailor. fiarm to advantage. I can explain it all to you b)etter, when you come to see Mr. Warner's farm." As Nero traveled very fast, they began by this time to draw near to the place where they had left the sailor. When they came up to the house, they fastened the horse to a post, and went in. The man who lived there had gone away, but the woman said that the sailor was somewhat hurt, and asked them to come in and see him. They found him in the kitchen, with his foot up in a chair. He seemed to be in some pain. There was a great bruise on his ankle, made by the cork of one of the horses' shoes. These corks, as they are called, are projections, made of steel, at the heel of a horse-shoe, to give the horse a firm footing. They are made quite sharp in the winter season, when there is ice and snow upon the ground, but they are generally more blunt in the summer. This prevented the ankle's being cut as badly as it would have been, if the corks had been sharper. Forester looked at the ankle, and found that nothing had been done for it. It was inflamed and painful. He got the woman to give him a basin of warm water, and then he bathed it very carefully, which relieved the THE GRASS COUNTRY. Forester's treatment of the foot. sense of tension and pain. Then he made an ointment of equal parts of tallow and oil, which he put upon the end of a bandage, and thus bound it up. This treatment relieved the poor sailor very much. Then Forester proposed to the sailor to get into the wagon and go with him to the next house, and the sailor consented. Forester was then going to pay the woman for his night's lodging, but the sailor said at once, "No, squire, not at all. I'm much obliged to you for doing up my foot, but you need not pay any thing for me. I've got plenty of shot in the locker." So saying, he put his hand in his pocket and drew out a handful of gold and silver pieces. But the woman, who began now to feel a little ashamed that she had not done something for the wounded foot, said he was welcome to his lodging; and so they all got into the wagon, and Nero carried them rapidly back to his master's. 61 (]2 2,.A1t}C0O PAURL IN XvERIMIONT. Forestet's home. The valley. CHAPTER IV. THE VILLAGE. N due time, and without any farther adven ture, Forester and Marco arrived at the end of their journey. The village where Forester's father lived was situated in a gorge of the mountains, or rather at the entrance of a valley, which terminated at last in a gorge. There was a river flowing through this valley, and the village was upon its banks. At the upper end of the village a branch stream came in from the north, and there was a dam upon it, with some mills. The river itself was a rapid stream, flowing over a sandy and gravelly bottom, and there were broad intervals on each side of it, extending for some distance toward the higher land. Beyond these intervals, the land rose gradually, and in an undulating manner, to the foot of the mountains, which extended along the sides of the valley, and from the summits of which, one might look down upon the whole scene, with the village in the center of it. as upon a map. THE VILLAGE. Yards and gardens. The nifice. Marco was very much pleased with the situation, and with the appearance of the village. The street was broad, and it was shaded with rows of large maples and elms on each side. The houses were generally white, with green blinds. Most of them had pleasant yards before them and at their sides; these yards were planted with trees and shrubbery. There were also gardens behind. The mountains which surrounded the scene, gave a very secluded and sheltered appearance to the valley. The house in which Forester lived was the largest in the village. It was a square house of two stories. It stood back a little from the road, in the middle of a large yard, ornamented with rows of trees along the sides, and groups of shrubbery in the corners and near the house. There were gravel walks leading in different directions through this yard, and on one side of the house was a carriage-way, which led from a great gate in front, to a door in one end of the house, and thence to the stable in the rear. On the other side of the house, near the street, was the office,-for Forester's father was a lawyer. The office was a small square building, with the lawyer's name over the door. Thlere was a back door to the office. and a foot 63 Yards and gardens. The office. 64 MARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. The village. path, winding among trees and shrubbery, which led from the office to the house. The morning after they arrived, Forester took Marco out to see the village. He intended not only to show him the various objects of interest which were to be seen, but also to explain to him why it was that such villages would spring up in a farming country, and what were the occupations of the inhabitants. "The first thing which causes the commencement of a village in New England," said Forester, "is a water-fall." "Why is that?" asked Marco. There are certain things," replied Forester, "which the farmers can not very well do for themselves, by their own strength, particularly grinding their corn, and sawing logs into boards for their houses. When they first begin to settle in a new country, they make the houses of logs, and they have to take the corn and grain a great many miles on horseback, through paths in the woods, or, in the winter, on handsleds, to get it ground. But as soon as any of them are able to do it, they build a dam on some stream in the neighborhood, where there is a fall in the water, and thus get a water -.owel. This water power they employ, to turn T I E VILLAGE. Origin of villages. a saw-mill and a grist-mill. Then all the farmers, when they want to build houses or barns, haul logs to the mill to get them sawed into boards, and they carry their grain to the gristmill and get it ground. They pay the owner of the mills for doing this workli for themrn. And thus, if there are a great many farms in the country around, and no other mills very near, so that the mills are kept all the time at work, the owner gets a great deal of pay, and gradually acquires property. "Now, as soon as the mills are built, perhaps a blacksmith sets up a shop near them. If a blacksmith is going to open a shop anywhere in that town, it will be better for him to have it near the mills, because, as the farmers all have to come to the mills at any rate, they can avail themselves of the opportunity, to get their horses shod, or to get new tires to their wheels, when they are broken." "Tires?" repeated Marco. "What are tires?" "They are the iron rims around wheels. Every wheel must have an iron band about it, very tight, to strengthen it and to hold it firmly together. Without a tire, a wheel would very E 65 shrills. 66 MARCO PAUL, IN VFRMONT. The blacksmith's shop. Wood work i soon come to pieces, in rattling over a stony road. "Besides," continued Forester, "there is a great deal of other iron work, which the farmers must have done. Farmers can, generally, do most of the wood work which they want themselves. They can make their rakes, and drags, and cart-bodies, and sleds, and tool handles; but when they want iron work, they must go to the blacksmith's. They can make a harrow-frame, but the blacksmith must make the teeth." "Now I should think," said Marco, "that it would be easier to make the teeth than the frame." "Perhaps it is as easy, if one has the forge and tools," replied Forester; "but the tools and fixtures, necessary for blacksmith's work, are much more expensive than those required for ordinary wood work. There must be a forge built on purpose, and an anvil, supported on a solid foundation, and various tools. All these are necessary for shoeing a single horse, and when they are all procured, they will answer for all the horses of the neighborhood. Thus it happens, that though farmers do a great deal of their wood work themselves, at their own farms, in cold and stormy weather, they gener Wood work The blacksmith's shop. THE VILLAGE. Iron work. An operation. ally have their iron work done at a blacksmith's at some central place, where it is easy and convenient for all of them to go." The above conversation took place between Marco and Forester, as they were walking along together through the village, toward the part of the town where the mills were situated. Just at this moment, Marco happened to cast his eyes across the street a short distance before them, and he saw a fire on the ground in a little yard. He asked Forester what that fire could be. As soon as Forester saw the fire, he exclaimed, "Ah! they are putting a tire upon a wheel; that's quite fortunate; we'll go across and see them." So they left the path under the trees where they had been walking, and went obliquely across the street toward the fire. Marco saw that there was a large blacksmith's shop there. It was a very neat-looking building, painted red. There was a large door in the front, and a very low window, with a shutter hanging over it, by the side of the door. In an open yard, by the side of the shop, was the fire. The fire was in the form of a ring. There were several men standing about it; one of them, whom Marco 67 Iron work. An operation. (;68 MARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. The round tire. Tires. Philosophy of tiring a wheel. supposed was the blacksmith, by his leather apron, was putting on small sticks of wood and chips, here and there, around the ring. Marco saw that there was a large iron hoop, as he called it, on the fire. It was not really a hoop, it was a tire. It was made of a much larger and thicker bar of iron, than those which are used for hoops. It was a tire belonging to a wheel. The wheel was lying upon the ground near, ready to receive the tire. It was the hind wheel of a wagon. The wagon itself was standing in front of the shop, with one end of the hind axletree supported by a block. "What do they heat the tire for?" asked Marco. "To swell it," replied Forester. "It is necessary to have the tire go on very tight, so as to hold the wheel together with allthe force of the iron. Now when iron is heated it swells, and then shrinks again when it cools. So they heat the tire hot, and put it upon the wheel in that state. Then when it cools it shrinks, and binds the whole wheel together with a very strong grip." "But if they put it on hot, it will burn the wood," said Marco. " Yes," replied Forester, "it will burn the I -1 THE VILLAGE. 69 Fellies. Putting on the tire. wood a little. They call not help that entirely; but they stand ready with water, to pour on, as soon as the tire is in its place, and so cool it immediately, so that it does not burn the fellies enough to injure them." " WVhat are the fellies?" asked Marco. "They are the parts of the wooden rim of the wheel. The rim is made of several pieces of wood, which are called fellies." So Forester took Marco to the wheel, and showed him the parts of which the rim was composed. While Marco was looking at the wheel, the blacksmith began to push away the burning brands a little from the tire, as it began to be hot enough. Presently he went into his shop and brought out several pairs of tongs. With these the men lifted the tire out of the fire, but the blacksmith said it was a little too hot, and he must let it cool a minute or two. "Why, if it's very hot," said Marco, "it will grip the wheel all the harder." "It will grip it too hard," said Forester. "Sometimes a tire shrinks so much as to spring the spokes out of shape. Didn't you ever see a wheel with the spokes bent out of shape?" 70 M( ARCo PAUL IN VE MONI'. Benlding the spokes. "I don't know," said Marco. "I never noticed wheels much." " They do get bent, sometimes," said Forester. "It requires great care to put on a tire in such a manner, as to give it just the right degree of force to bind the wheel strongly together without straining it." As soon as the tire became of the right temperature, the men took it up again with the pairs of tongs-taking hold Nwith them at differ I THE TIRE. TiHE VILLAGE. The tire hot. Water. ent sides of it-and then they put it down carefully over the wheel. The wheel immediately began to smoke on all sides. In one or two places it burst into a flame. The blacksmith, however, paid no attention to this, but with a hammer, which he held in his hand, he knocked it down into its place, all around the rim; then he took up a brown pitcher full of water, which was standing near, and began to pour the water on, walking round and round the wheel as he did it, so as to extinguish the flames in every part and cool the iron. When this process was completed, Forester and Marco walked On. "Let me see," said Forester, "where did I leave off, Marco, in my account of the growth of a village? I was telling you about the blacksmith's shop, I believe." "Yes," said Marco. "The next thing to the blacksmith's shop, in the history of a New England village," said Forester, "is generally a store. You see the farmers can not raise every thing they want. There are a great many things which come fromn foreign countries, which they have to buy." "Such as sugar and tea," said Marco. 71 The store. 72 MA.RCo PAUL IN VE:I.10o'1'T. Maklg sugatr. "Yes," replied Forester, "only they make a great deal of sugar in Vermont out of the sap of the maple-tree. We will go and see MIr. iVarner's sugar bush next spring. But there are a great many things which the farmers must buy. One of the most important articles is iron. Now when a man concludes to open a store, the best place that he can have for his business is near the mills and the blacksmith's shop; because the people have to come there on other business, and so that is the most convenient place for them to visit his store. And so, by and by, when a carpenter and a mason come into the country, the little village which has thus begun to form itself, is the best place for themn to settle in, for that is the place where people can most conveniently call and see them. After a while a physician comes and settles there, to heal them when they are sick, and a lawyer to prevent disputes." "To prevent disputes!" said Marco. Marco bad not much idea of the nature of a lawyer's business, but he had a sort of undefined and vague notion, that lawyers made disputes among men, and lived by them. "Why, I know," said Forester, laughing, "that lawyers have not the credit, generally, of The store. The physician. I TH~ E ILL AGE. 73 Lawyers. l'orester's opinion. The (lam. )reventing many disputes, but I believe they do. Perhaps it is because I am going to be a lawyer myself. But I really believe that lawyers prevent ten disputes, where they occasion one." "How do they do it?" asked Marico. "W\hy, they make contracts, and draw up writings, and teach men to be clear and distinct in their engagements and bargains. Then besides, when men will not pay their debts, they comnpel them to do it, by legal process. And there are a vast many debts which are paid, foi fear of this legal process, which would not have been paid without it. Thus, knowing that the lawyers are always ready to apply the laws, men are much more careful not to break them, than they otherwise would be. So that it is no doubt vastly for the benefit of a community, not only to have efficient laws, but efficient lawyers to aid in the execution of them." By this time, Forester and Marco had reached the part of the village where the mills were situated. Forester showed Marco the dam. It was supported by ledges of rocks on each bank, and there was a flume, which conducted the water to the wheels of the mills. There were two mills and a machine-shop. They went THE Y~'ILLAGE. 74 MA(,Co PAUfI IN VERIONTr. Tie lathe. The mill-pond. ;nto the machine-shlop. There was a lathe here carried by water. A man was at work at it, turning hoe handles. Forester asked him what other articles were turned there; and he said posts for bedsteads, and rounds for chairs, and such other things as were used in quantities in that part of the country. Forester asked him whether the lathe would turn brass and iron as well as wood; but he said it would not. It was not fitted for that work. "I suppose you might have a lathe here, to work in the metals," said Forester. "Yes," replied the man, "but it would not be worth while. There is very little of that kind of worli wanted ill this part of the country." After looking at the mills, Forester and Marco walked along up the stream a little way, to look at the mill-pond. Whenever a dam is made, it causes a pond to be formed above it, more or less extensive, according to the nature of the ground. In this case there was quite a large pond, formed by the accumulation of the water above the dam. The pond was not very wide, but it extended more than a mile up the stream. The banks were picturesque and beautiful, being overhung with trees in some places, I TIIE \VILLAGE. An exploring expedition. and ill others presenting verdant slopes, down to the \vater's edge. "That's a good pond to go a-fishing in," said Miarco. "Yes," said Forester, " and it makes fine skating ground in the winter." Marco and Forester followed the banks of the mill-pond, until they came to the end of the still water; beyond that they saw a rapid running stream, conming down fromnt the mountains. .,Iarco wished to follow this stream up farther, to see what they would come to, and Forester consented. The ground ascended more and more the farther they proceeded, and the view began to be shut in by forests, precipices and mountains. Marco liked clambering over the rocks, and he found a great deal to interest him at every step of the way. He saw several squirrels and one rabbit. He wanted Forester to get him a gun and let him come out into those woods a-gunning. "No," said Forester. "Why not?" asked M5arco. "That is dangerous amusement." \Vhy? Do you think I should get killed with my gun?" asked Mvarco. No," replied Forester, "I don't thitik yon 75 76 NMARCO o PA Ta.king, risks. would; but you might get killed. The risk would be too great for the benefit." "Why, you told me the other day, that it was a great thing to learn to take risks coolly. If I had a gun I could practice and learn." "Yes," said Forester, "it is well to take risks coolly, when the advantage is sufficient to justify it. For instance, when you crept down upon the pole the other day, to get the reins, you took a great risk, but perhaps you saved the lives of the passengers by it. That was right-but to hazard your life, for the sake of the pleasure of shooting a squirrel, is not wise." Marco had before this time told him about his getting the reins. " shouldn't think there was much danger," said Marco. " No," said Forester, " there's very little danger. In using a gun, you put yourself in a very little danger of a very great calamity. There's very little probability that your gun would burst, or that you would ever shoot accidentally any other person;-very little indeed. But if the gun were to burst, and blow ofl one of your arms, or put out your eyes, or if you were to shoot another boy, the calamity would be a very terrible one. So we call it a great risk." U L I N V E R.,Nl 0 iV'l'. Differei-it kiiids of ri,,:kg. T i E VI.AGE. 1. The log. "It seems to be a small risk of a great caiamity," said MAiarco. "Yes," replied Forester, "but we call it a great risk. WVe call the risk great, when either the evil which we are in danger of is great, or Nwhen the chance of its befalling us is great. For example, if you and I were to walk over that log which lies across the stream, we should rIun a great risk; but that would be, not a small chance of a great evil, but a great chance of a stnail evil. There would be a great chance that wne should fall off into the stream; but that would not be much of an evil as we should only get ourselves wet." Let us go and ~ \-,,4: try it," said Marco. mNot I," said Foriester. "Yo u iay, however, if you please. I am wvilling, to have you take such a risk as that, for youriamusement." Marco went to the log, and walked back and forth across it, as COno 77 I,' [ AR ('o PA t; I, I N V1 a C) N i arc' s,'xterity. posedlv as if it were a broad plank, lying upon the ground. Finally, he hopped across it on one foot, to show Forester his dexterity. Forester was surprised. He did not knowv how much skill in such feats Marco had acquired by his gymnastics in New York. After this, Forester and Marco clambered up somie rocks on an elevated summit, where they had a fine view of the village below them. They could trace the river, winding through the valley, with the green intervals on both sides of it. They could see the village and the streets, with the spire of the meeting-house in the center. The mill-pond was in full view also; and AIarco's attention was attracted by a boat, which he saw gliding over the surface of the water. "0O! there is a boat," said Marco. "Yes," said Forester. "I have paddled over the water many a time in her." "o)vv many oars does she pull?" asked Marco. "Oars?" said Forester, " no oars; they use paddles." "I wish they had some oars," said Marco, "and then I would get a crew of boys, and teach them to manage a boat man-o'-war fashion." A fi.,io view. TH E V'L1 AG E. The boat. "Ho\v do you know any thing about it?" asked Forester. "O0, I learned at New York, in the boats at the Batterv." "Vell," said Forester, " we'll have some oars made, and get a crew. I should like to learn myself." " Let us go down and see the boat," said Marco, "now." "No," replied Forester, "it is time to go to dinner now; but we'll come and see the boat the next time wve go to take a walk." So \Iarco and Forester came down the hill, and thence went across the fields home to dinner. They dined at half-past twelve o'clock, which seemed a very strange hour to Marco 79 80 MARCO PAUL. IN X R M (o) N T. The back office. CHAPTER V. STUDYING. HE little building where Forester's father had his office, had a small back room in it, which opened from the office proper, and which was used as a library and private study. It had a small fire place in it, and there was a table in the middle of the room, with a large portable writingT-desk upon it. This desk was made of rosewood. The sides of the room were lined with book-shelves. There was one large window which looked upon the yard and garden behind. The books in this room were principally law-books, though there were some books of history and travels, and great dictionaries of various kinds. Forester conducted Miarco into this room, a day or two after their arrival in the village, saying, "Here, Marco, this is to be our study. How cto you like it?" " Very well," said Marco. " It is a ver,s pleasant room. Am I to study all these books?" P,ooks. TUI)VIN(; SI Mlarco's desk. "N ot more than one at a time, at any rate," said Forester. "This is my place, I suppose," said Marco; and so saying he sat down in a great arm-chair, before the portable writing-desk, which was open on the table. THE STUDY. "No," said Forester, "that is my place. I am going to arange your establishment near the wiidow- Jrames has gone to bring your (lesl lnow" S T 13 D Y I N (. 81 ,2 MAIARCO PAUL IN VER IONT. roresters arrangements. Ink, paper and pens. Chile he was speaking, the door opened, and James, the young man who lived at Forester's father's came in, bringing a desk. It was painted blue, and had four legs. These legs were of such a length as to make the desk just high enough for Marco. James put it down, at Forester's direction, near the window. It was placed with the left side toward the window, so that the light from the window would strike across the desk firom left to right. This is the most convenient direction for receiving light when one is writing. Forester then placed a chair before the desk, and MIarco went into the house and brought out all the books and papers which he had, and arranged them neatly in his desk. While he was gone, Forester took an inkstand and a sand-box out of a closet by the side of the fire, and filled them both, and put them on the desk. He also placed in the desk a supply of paper, in quarter sheets. Aftel Marco had come back, and had put in his books and papers, Forester gave him a ruler and a lead pencil; also a slate and half a dozen slate pencils; also a piece of sponge and a piece of India-rubber. He gave him besides a little square phial, and sent him to fill it with water, Foresterfs arrallgetlellts. Inik, paper and pens. S TUDY I NG. 83 A bunch of peolis. so thlat he might have water always at hand to Net his sponge with. "Nov is that all vou will want?" asked Forester. "Whv, yes, I should think so," said Marco. 'If I should wvant any thing else, I can ask you, you know. You are going to stay here and study too? Yes,"' said Forester; "but your asking tnme is just what I wish to avoid. I wish to arrange it so that we shall both have our' time to ouirsel\-es, wNithout interruption." "But I shall have to ask you questions when I get into difficulty," said Marco. "\o," said Forester, "I hope not. I mean to contrive it so that you can get out of difficulty yourself. Let me see. You will want some pens. I will get a bunch of quills and make them up into pens for you." "'Whlat, a whole bunch?" said Marco. Yes," replied Forester. "I don't wish to have you come to me, when I am in the midst of a law argument, to get me to make a pen." Steel pens were very little used in those days. \\While Forester was making the pens, he said, There are twenty-five quills in a bunch. I ihall tie them up, when they are ready, into -,Iarco's qtiest,.oi-is. 84 AARCO PAULI IN VERMONT. Rules for Marco. Various arrangornts. two bunches, of about a dozen in each. These you will put in your desk. When you want a pen, you wtill draw one out of the bunches and use it. You must not stop to look them over, to choose a good one, but you must take any one that comes first to hand, because, if any one should not be good, the sooner you get it out and try it, and ascertain that it is not good, the sooner you will get it out of the way." " WVell," said Marco, "and what shall I do with the bad ones?" "Wipe them clean,-by the way, you must have a good penwiper,-and then put them together in a particular place in your desk. When you have thus used one bunch, tie them up and lay the bunch on my desk to be mended, and then you can go on using the other bunch. This will give me opportunity to choose a convenient time to mend the first bunch again. When I have mended them, I will tie them up and lay them on your desk again. Thus you will always have a supply of pens, and I shall never be interrupted to mend one. This will be a great deal more convenient, both for you and for mne." "Only it will use up a great many more pens," replied Mfarco. Ru,les for Alarco. Various aitangelneits. S lTU D Y I N G. 85 A difficlity. "No," said Forester; " not at all. We shall have more in use at one time, it is true, but the wvhole bunch may last as long as if we had only one cut at a time. " NVe shall begin to study," continued Forester, "at nine o'clock, and leave off at twelve. That will give you half an hour to run about and play before dinner." "And a recess?" said Marco,-" I ought to have a recess." "Vihy-, there's a difficulty about a recess," said Forester. "I shall have it on my mind every da-y, to tell you when it is time for the recess, and when it is time to come in." "0 no," replied Marco, " I can find out when it is time for the recess. Let it be always at ten o'clock, and I can look at the watch." liarco referred to a watch belonging to Forester's father, which was kept hung up over the mantel-piece in their little study. "'I think it probable you would findl out when it was time for the recess to begin," said Forester, "but you would not be so careful about the end of it. You would get engaged in play, and would forget how the time was passing, and I should have to go out and call you in." (iouldn't you have a little bell?" said Marco. Recess. St} MAnRco PAUL IN VEIMot I-. 'amous plans. Forester's ideas, iBut I don' t wish to have any thing of that kind to do," said Forester. "I amn going to instruct you half an hour every morning, beginDing at nine o'clock, and I want to have it all so arranged, that after that, I shall be left entirely- to myself. so that I can go on with my studies, as \vell as you with yours. If we can do this successfully, then, when noon comes, I shall feel that I have done my morning's work well, and you and I can go off in the afternoon on all sorts of expeditions. But if I have to spend the whole morningi in attending to you, then I must stay at home and attend to my own studies in the afternoon." "Well" said MIarco, " I think I can find out wihen to come in.a" " We'll try it one or two morlnings, but I have no idea that you will succeed. Hiowever, we can give up the plan if we find that you stay out too long. You may have five minutes' recess every day, at eleven o'clock. On the whole it shall be test minutes. And this shall be the plan of your studies for the morning. At nine o'cloclk, I shall give you instruction for half an hour. Then you may study arithmetic for one hour; then write half an hour; then have a recess for ten minutes; then read for the re,st STUDYING. Direetions about studying. The schedule. of the last hour. That will bring it to twelve o'clock." "But I can't study arithmetic, alone," said Marco. "Yes," said Forester, "I shall show you how, in the first half-hour when I am giving you my instructions. Now, are you willing really to try to carry this system into effect, pleasantly and prosperously?" "Yes," said Maarco, " I'll try." "We shall find some inconveniences and troubles at first, I have no doubt," said Forester; "but if we are patient and persevering, we shall soon make the system go smoothly." Forester then said, that as Marco might forget what he had to do each hour, he would nmalke a sort of map of the hours, with the name of the study which he was to pursue marked in each. This he called a schedule. The schedule, when it was completed, was as follows: XI. XII. II ' r 1. ( f . 9 I X 4 This schedule was drawn neatly on a piece 87 Directionis about studying. The schedule. 1X. X. . _ 2 z. ._.. ._ I 88 iMARcO PAUL IN VERM.XONT. roreer a teacher. The writing-hook. of paper, and fastened with wafers to the undei side of the lid of MIarco's desk, so that he could look at it at any time, by opening( his desk. It was in the afternoon that this conversation was held, and these preparations made. The next morning, at nine o'clock, Marco and Forester went into the little study, and Forester gave him his instructions. He took his arithmetic, and explained to him how to perform some examples, under one of the rules. Forester performed one or two of them himself, explaining very particularly all the steps. He then rubbed out his work, and directed Marco to perform them by himself in the same manner. "If vou succeed in doing these right," said he, "you may set yourself some others of the same kind, with different numbers, and perform those too. If you get into any difficulty, you must not ask me, but you may set yourself sums in addition, and spend the rest of the hour in doing them. That, you can certainly do without help." Yes," said M\Iarco, "I can do that." "The next half-hour is for writing," said Forester.'"I will set you some copies." So Forester took a writing-book, which he had prepared, and wrote Marco some copies, The writing-book. Forester a teacher. STUD Y ING. 89 Reading. one on the top of each page. Marco looked over him while he wrote. It is very imniortant that a child should see his teacher write his copies, for thus he will see how the letters should be formed. Forester wrote four or five copies for Marco, and while he was writing them he gave him particular instructions about the manner of holding his pen, and shapiong the letters. "Now," said Forester, "you can not possibly have occasion to come to me about your writing; for here are pages enough for you to write upon for several days, and you have plenty of pens." "But I should think you would want to see whether I write it well," said MIarco. "I shall examine it carefully to-morrow morning," said Forester. " Very well," said Marco; "after the writing will come the recess." "Yes," said Forester, "and then the reading." "What shall I read?" asked Marco. Forester then rose and went to one of the book-shelves, where there was a set of books, entitled the American Encyclopedia. There were thirteen octavo volumes in the set. It was rather too high for Marco to reach it, and Copies. 90 MIARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. Mareos reading-book. Memoranda to be made. so Forester took all the volumes down and placed them on a lower shelf, not far from the windowN, in a place where Marco could get easy access to them. "There," said Forester; "there is your library. The American Encyclopedia is a sort of a dictionary. WNhen your reading hour comes, you may take down any volume of this Encyclopedia, and turn to any article you please. Or you may think of any subject that you would like to read about, as for instance, boat, cannon, camel, eagle, trout, horse, or any other subject, and take down the proper volume and find the article. You can find it by the letters which are printed on the backs of the volumes." "Let us look now," said Marco, "and see what it says about trouts." "No, not now," replied Forester; "when your reading hour comes, you may read what vou choose. Only you must have a piece of paper at hand, and write upon it the title of every article which you read, and show it to me the next morning, because I shall wish to know whlat you have been reading, and perhaps to question you about it. Now you understand -our work, do vou not?" Mlarco's reading-book. Memoranda to be made. STUDYING. Marco inot to be watched. "Yes," said MIarco; "and what are you going to do?" " 0, I'm going to study my law-books." "Shall you stay here and study?" "Yes," replied Forester, "I shall be here most t)f the time. Sometimes I shall be called into the other room, perhaps, on business with my lather; but that need not make any difference with vou." "Only, then there will be nobody to watch t-e," said Marco. "0, I shall not watch you any, even when 1 am here. I shall pay no attention to you at all. I can judge to-morrow morning, when I come to look at your work and give you new instruc tions, whether you have been industrious or not. Even if I accidentally see you doing any thing wrong, I shall not probably say any thing about it. I shall remember it, and speak to you about it to-morrow morning, in my half-hour. I shall do everything in my half-hour." Mlarco felt somewhat relieved, to think that he was not going to be under a very rigid observation in his studies. "I do not expect," said Forester, "that you will do very well for the first few days. It will take some time to get this system under fiuli 91 92 MIARCO PAUL IN VER.0IONT. Miarco's promises. An answer. operation. I presume that you will come to me as many as ten times the first day." ", no," said Mlarco, "I don't mean to come to you once." "You will,-I have no doubt. What shall 1 say to you if you do? Will it be a good plan for me to answer your question?" "Why, no," said Marco, "I suppose not." "And yet, if I refuse to answer, it will not be very pleasant to you. It will put you out of humor." "No," said Marco. "I will have one invariable answer to give you," said Forester. " It shall be this,-Act according to your own judgment. That will be a little more civil than to take no notice of your question at all, and yet it will preserve our principle,-that I am to give you no assistance except in my half-hour. Then, besides, I will keep an account of the number of questions you ask me, and see if they do not amount to ten." By this time Forester's half-hour was out, and MAIarco went to his desk. "There's one thing," said Marco, "before I begin:-may I have the window open?" " Act according to your own judgment," said Forester, "and there is one question asked." S T U D Y I NG. Coming to an uinderstanding. So Forestel made one mark upon a paper which he had upon the table. "But, cousin Forester, it is not right to count that, for I had not begun." Forester made no reply, but began arranging his note-books, as if he wvas about commencing his owvn studies. Miarco looked at him a moment, and then he rose and gently. _.,:;( illli! opened the window n.. and began his. li' == __ Mfarco was but little accustomed. to solitary stud\ and, after perforn-., ing one of t he ex- amples which For ester had given him, he thought he ACO'S was tired, and he began to look out the window and to play with his pencil. He would lay his pencil upon the upper side of hIis slate, and let it roll down. As the pencil was not round, but polygonal in its form, it made a curious clicking sound in rolling dowsn. which amutsed c, lar(). though it dis 9.3 94 MARCO PAIJL IN VERMONT. Marco's amusement. He loses his pencil. turbed and troubled Forester. Whatever may have been the nice peculiarities in the delicate mechanism of Forester's ear, and of the nerves connected with it, compared with that of Marco's, by which the same sound produced a sensation of pleasure in one ear, while it gave only pain in the other, it would require a very profound philosopher to explain. But the effect was certain. Forester, however, did not speak, but let Marco roll his pencil down the slate as long as he pleased. This was not long, however; Marco soon grew tired of it, and then began to look out the window. There was a little staple in the window sill, placed there as a means of fastening the blind. Marco pushed the point of his pencil into this staple, in order to see if it wouldgo through. It did go through in an instant, and slipping through his fingers, it fell out of the window. "Dear me! there goes my pencil. My pencil has dropped out of the window, cousin Forester; shall I go out and get it?" "Act according to your own judgment," said Forester. At the same time he was saying this, he made another mark upon his paper. "Why, you ought not to count that, cousin Marcols amusement. He loses his pencil. STUDYING. 9jr~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 5Iarco goes out for his pencil. Forester," said Marco, "for I don't know whether you'd wish me to go and get that penci], or take another out of my desk." "Act according to your own judgment," replied Forester. MIarco looked perplexed and troubled. In fact, he was a little displeased to find that Forester would not answer him. He thought that it was an unforeseen emergency, which Forester ought to have considered an exception to his rule. But he was obliged to decide the question for himself, and he concluded to go out for his pencil. It took him some time to find it in the grass, and after he had found it, he stopped for some time longer, to watch some ants which were passing in and out, at the entrance to their nest, each one bringing up a grain of sand in his forceps. When Marco came in, he found that his hour for arithmetic was so nearly expired, that he should not have time to finish another sum, if he should begin it; so he put his arithmetical apparatus away, and took out his writing-book. MIarco wvent through the whole forenoon pretty much in the same way. He spent a large part of his time in looking out of the window and about the room. He went out at the 8 TUDY IN C,. 95 96( r,IARC(O PAUL 1IN vIER IONT. Forester satisfied with Marco. time f/or the recess, but he stayed out twenty minutes instead of ten. He was astonished, when lie came in, to see how rapidly the time had passed. He then took down a volume of the Encyclopedia, and read until twelve o'clock, and thlen, leaving the volume of the Encyclopedia and his writing-book on his desk, he told Forester that the study hours were over, antd went away. Tile next morning, at nine, Forester asked hlim how he had got along the day before. .larco had the frankness to admit that he dili not get along very well. Still," said Forester, "I am well satisfied on the w'-"iole. You did very well for a first ex1)erittent. In the first place, you did really make some effort to carry out my plan. You kept tihe reckoning of the hours, and changed y,oui' studies at the appointed time. You did not si)eak to me more than three or four times, and then you acquiesced pretty good-natured]\ in my refusing to help you. To-day you will (lo better, I have no doubt, and to-morrow better still. And thus, in the course of a week, I have Silreat confidence that you will learn to study for tht'ee hours by yourself, to good advantage." "i'Two hours and a half it is," said Maarco. STUDYING. Mlarco's recreations. "Yes," said Forester. It resulted as Forester predicted. Marco, finding that Forester was disposed to be pleased with and to commend his efforts, made greater efforts every day, and, in the course of a week, he began to be a very respectable student. In the afternoon he used to ramble about, sometimes with Forester, and sometimes alone. He was very fond of fishing, and Forester used to allowv him to go to certain parts of the river, where the water was not deep, alone, trusting to his word that he would confine himself strictly to the prescribed bounds. G 97 98 i' AR,, I' ),' 7 L I N F lI{ Mb' N' Marco's character. ( 11 A P'T E it -T, Tfrp, LOG CANOE. :VERY thing went on very prosperously, - for a w-eek or two, in the little study. ?,[arco became more and more attentive to his studies, and more and more interested in thlem. wle was often getting into little difficulties, it is t-i'ue, and giving trouble to his uncle and aunt; tbut then he generally seemed sorry afterward or the trouble which he had thus occasioned, nd he bore reproof, and such punishments as liS cousin thought it necessary to inflict, with so much good-humor, that they all readily forgave him for his faults and misdemeanors. One day, however, about a fortnight after hlie had commenced his studies, he got led away, through the influence of a peculiar temptation, into a rather serious act of transgression, which.,iglit have been followved by very grave con sequences. The circu'mstances were these. He had commenced his studies as usual, after having received his half l-hour's instruction from Foresteir, and wvq, in the niidst of the process T H E LAOG CAN () E. Forester goes away. of reducing the fraction 4 to its lowest terms, when he happened to look out of the window and to see two boys climbing over a garden fence belonging to one of the neighbor's houses, at a little distance in the rear of his uncle's house. It was a very pleasant morning, and Marco had the window open; so he could see the boys very plainly. They stopped on the farther side of the fence which they had got over, and though they were partially concealed by the fence, yet Marco could plainly perceive that they were busily employed in doing something there, though he could not imagine what. Ile wished very much to go and see; but he knew that it would be in vain to make request for permission, and so he contented himself with watching them. Just at this moment his uncle opened the door which led into the little study, and asked Forester if he would step into the office. Forester did so; and then, after a few minutes, he returned, put up his books, and said that he had got to go away, and that perhaps he should not be back till noon. Marco had often been left alone at his studies for a time, but never for a whole morning before. He knew that he was to go on with his work just as i; Forester had 99 A fraction. I 100 PAa3t- F:AL IN myRt(NT. A mystery. remained. So Forester bade him good morning, and then went away. Marco watched the boys, wondering more and more what they could be doing. They kept stooping down to the ground, and moving about a little, as if they were planting seeds. But as it was entirely the wrong season for any such work, Marco concluded that they must be hiding something in the ground. "Perhaps," said he to himself, " they have been stealing some money, and are burying it. I wish I could go and see." If there had been a door leading directly from the study into the yard, Marco would have left his studies and have gone out at once; but as it was, he could not get out without going through the office where his uncle was sitting. At last the thought struck him that he might jump out the window. He felt some hesitation at taking this step, but finally he concluded that he would do it, and just go near enough to see what the boys were hiding, and exactly where they were putting it, so that he could go afterward and find it without fail. He determined to return then immediately. "I shall not be out longer than five minutes," II ~ THE LoG CANOE. 101 Marco goes out to see the boys. said he to himself, "and I will let it go for my recess. So he took his cap from the nail where he was accustomed to hang it, while he was at his studies, and then climbing out the window, feet foremost, he let himself down gently to the ground. He then crept slyly along through the yards and gardens, until he got pretty near the place where the boys were at work. The mystery, however, was rather increased than diminished by the near view. He could make nothing of the operations which they were engaged in; and while he was hesitating whether to go nearer, one of the boys happened to look up and spied him. Marco had intended to keep himself concealed by a tree, behind which he had taken his station, but the boy having looked up suddenly, at a moment when he happened to be off his guard, saw him before he had time to draw back under the cover he had chosen. "Holloa, Marco," said the boy, "come here." Marco was astonished at this frank and open invitation. He had expected that tile boys, when they saw him, would have dropped at once behind the fence to conceal themselves, or that they would have caught up what he supposed they were burying, and have run 102 M AR CO PAUL IN V ER MONT. Mystery explained. A good resolution. away. Their accosting him in this tearless manner deranged his ideas about their probable object, and increased his curiosity to know what they were doing. So he came forth from his concealment and went toward them. When he reached the spot, the mystery was suddenly dispelled by his finding out that they were digging worms for bait, to go a-fishing. Marco's curiosity was now changed to eager desire. The boys told him that they were going down to the river to fish for eels, and Marco's soul was all on fire to accompany them. He had never fished for eels. He knew the boys very well, and they offered to lend him a hook and line. But Marco thought that on the whole it would not do. He tried to persuade them to wait until the afternoon, but they would not consent to such a postponement of their pleasure. So Marco wished them good luck, and began to mount the fence again, with the intention of returning to his studies. On looking toward the office, he saw his uncle coming out of the door in the rear of it, and walking toward the house. Marco immediately reflected that it would not answer for him to meet his uncle, and he descended from the fence again on the same side with the boys, until his T1 E Lot; CANOE. Tri,nrng trees. Marco decides to go uncle should go back. The boys thought he came back because he was undecided whether to go with them or not, and they renewed their invitations with redoubled urgency. Marco did not reply, but looked steadily toward the house. He saw a man standing in the yard with a small ladder in his hand. A moment afterward, Marco's uncle came out of the house, and, to Marco's great consternation, he perceived that he had a saw and a hatchet in his hand, and then he recollected that his uncle had been intending to prune some trees that forenoon. The trees were situated in various positions about the yard, so that Marco could neither go in at the front door of the office, nor climb in at the window, without being discovered. He did not know what to do. In the mean time, the boys urged him to go with them. They did not know any thing about his studies, and supposed that his hesitation was only owing to his want of interest in the object of the expedition. Finally, Marco concluded to go. He supposed that he should not be able to get back into his study till noon, as he recollected that his uncle expected to be employed all the iorenoon about his pruning. He thlouglt. lherelore, thalt his chance of' detec 103 Marco decides to ge. Trimiimilng trees. 104 MARCO PAUL IN VERMONT. Marco escapes. tion would not be increased by staying out an hour or two longer, and so he told the boys that he would go. When they had procured sufficient bait, they went toward the river. Their way led them not very far from the house, and they were several times in situations where they were exposed to view, in case Marco's uncle had looked toward them. Marco, however, contrived to walk by these places in such a manner as to cover himself as much as possible from view by the other boys; and besides, he hoped that his uncle was too much occupied with his pruning, to notice what boys were prowling about the village. They passed across the street in this manner, and then went down over the intervales toward the river. Marco felt quite relieved at seeing that his uncle kept steadily at his work, holding the ladder for the other man to mount by, or sawing off low branches himself, without appearing to notice the boys at all. The river was circuitous in its course, and its banks were in some places steep, and in others low and sandy. The water was generally shallow, but in some places it was deep,especially under the high banks. In many places there were willows and elms, overhang t THE LOG CANOE. Fishing place. Fishing. Bad luck. ing the water. It was in one of these places that the boys were going to fish for eels. It was a point where the river took a sudden turn, forming a sort of angle in the stream, where the water was very dark and deep. The bank was high at that place, and it was covered with trees and bushes. Some of these trees had been undermined, and their roots and branches were floating in the water. The boys scrambled down to the brink and made ready for fishing. They cut slender poles in the bushes, for fishingpoles. There was a trunk of a tree lying along the shore, extending obliquely out a little way over the water, which furnished them a convenient footing. They stood or sat upon it, baited their hooks, and threw them over into the water. They followed the bait with their eyes as it sunk slowly down into the dark depths, among the logs, and roots, and trunks of trees, which were lying submerged in the water. The boys remained here an hour, but they caught no eels. Either there were none there, or for some reason or other they chose not to bite. They had some talk about going to another place, but before they decided upon that plan, Marco's attention was arrested by the sight of what appeared to be a large log 105 Fishing place. Fishing. Bad luck. 106 iIARC Co APAUL I' VE AT IIOT. toating down the liver. He pointed it out to 'le other boys, and, on closer examination, then saw that it was an old canoe, of the kind that .re formed by hollowing out a log. It was not of very large size, and it appeared to be rathe; old and decayed. Still, the boys wanted to get it very much. They gathered in their lines, and ran along the bank, keeping pace with the boat as it floated down. Theyv V-e,:- soon caine to a reach of the riv i A discovery. BOAT ADRIFT. T'H E LOG CANO E. Condition of the boat. er,-that is, to a length of it between one bend and another, where the water was swift and shallow. So the two boys who had been fishing with Marco threw off their shoes, and pulled up their trowsers, and ran down the bank, and into the river. The boat was far out in the stream, and they had to wade some distance before they came to it. Besides, as the boat was floating down all the time, while they were wading across, it got some distance down the stream before they could reach it. They, however, succeeded in getting it at last, and, with much floundering in the water and many shouts of laughter, they brought it over to MIarco. Marco was much pleased with the prize. It was in better condition than they had expected to find it. There was, indeed, a piece knocked out at one end, near the upper edge, but they found that it would support all three of the boys, if they sat in it carefully, and with their weight principally at the other end. For want of oars or paddles they cut poles on the banks, thinking that they could push the boat along, by planting the poles against the bottom, as the water was not deep. They drew the boat up to the shore, and poured out some water which 107 108 MARCO PAUL IN VilRMONT. The river. Navigation. had got into her, and then they all carefully embarked, intending to make a little voyage. It happened that just below the place to which the boat had drifted before they overtook it, the water became somewhat deeper, and of course more smooth and still, so that it afforded a favorable place for navigating such a boat. In fact, the character of the stream, throughout its whole course for several miles, was to present a constant succession of changes, from, deep and almost still water, to shallow and rapid currents, rippling over beds of sand and gravel. One of these rapids, or rips, as they were called, the boys had just passed; it being in one of them, though one more broad and less rapid than many of the others, that they had pursued and overtaken the boat. In the smooth and still water below, therefore, they had a very favorable opportunity to try their boat, for the water, though not so shallow as it was above, was still not so deep as to prevent their propelling their boat, by pushing their poles against the bottom. It required some care to preserve their equilibrium, but then the water was not deep, and they knew, therefore, that there was no danger of being drowned if they should upset. N The river. Navigation. T HE LoG C A N O E. Lookisig for eels. The rips. Things went on very prosperously, until, after a few minutes, the boys suddenly found themselves drifting into deeper water. Their poles would scarcely touch the bottom. Marco, who was not much accustomed to this kind of navigation, was at first somewhat alarmed, but the other boys told him to keep quiet, and they would soon drift into shallow water again. They accordingly drew in their poles, and began to look over the edge of the boat into the water, to see if they could see any eels. They saw no eels, but the water soon began to grow shallow again, and so the boys, feeling that they were in no danger, remained quietly in their places, looking idly into the water, talking about the various objects which they saw upon the bottom. After some minutes spent in this manner, one of the boys looked down the stream, and saw that the boat was gradually approaching another of the rapids. "Come, boys," said he, "we must go to work, or we shall be down over the rips." So the boys all took their poles and began to push the boat up the stream; but they found it harder than they had expected. In fact, the boat had drifted down nearer to the rapids than 109 Looking for eels. The rips. 110 MiAARCO PAUL IN VERMIO()NT. Boat in the whlirlpools. VWater not deep. they ought to have allowed it to go. The water was running quite swiftly where they were, and they soon found that all their efforts were not sufficient to stem the current. The boat was carried round and round in every direction, excepting up the stream. In fact the current was rapidly acquiring the entire mastery over them, and hurrying them down to a point where the water poured on in a furious torrent through a long narrow passage between beds of stone and gravel. "Pull, boys, pull!" said Marco; "we shall go down over the rips in spite of every thing." The boys did pull, but they could effect nothing. The water was sweeping them along with great rapidity, notwithstanding all their struggles. Finally, when they found that they could not make head against it, so as to go up the stream, they concluded to pull for the shore. They were not in any great fear, for the river was very narrow and not more than knee deep in the rapids, so that there was no real danger of any calamity greater than getting well wet. They seemed to be also in a fair way to escape this, for they found that they could make some progress in getting their boat toward the shore. But, just as they began to I THE LOG CANOE. I i'ger. Boat upset. think their object was about to be accomplished, they were arrested by a sudden mishap. It happened that there was a little snag in the liver, nearly in the direction in which they vere going. It was the end of a small log, wvhich rose almost to the surface of the water. The greater part of the log was firmly imbedded in the sand, but there was a small portion of it which projected so far as barely to be submerged. The boys did not notice this, and, in their eagerness to run the boat ashore, it happened that they were running it across the current, just above this snag. But as the current was sweeping them down the stream at the same time that they were pushing themselves across it, it carried the boat with great force against this snag. The bottom of the boat was confined by it, while the force of the current, still pressing upon the side, overset it in a moment, and threw all the boys out into the water. The boys scrambled out without much difficulty, and stood upon the gravelly beach. They saw at the same moment a man on the bank of the river above, who looked as if he was about to run to their aid; but when he saw that they were safe, he turned around immediately and disappeared. An instant afterward, Marco, III !.,anger. Boat upset. ::1 I I 112 MARCO FAIJL IN VERMONT. Cap gone. finding that his cap was not upon his head,looked around for it, and, to his dismay, he saw it floating swiftly away down the rapids. He ran in , ~%~ ~~_ ~to the water and \ seized the boat, :~:~~ ~~ -which was then >-a ~beginning also to CAP GONE. goaway. He call ed upon the boys to help him pull it up and pour the water out. He then lanched it again with all speed, seized one of the poles, clambered into it, and pushed off into the swiftest part of the current, and away he went after his cap. He resorted to this desperate measure, because he was greatly alarmed at the idea of going home without his cap. It would have certainly insured his detection, and, as he supposed, a double punishment. He now was as eager to go down the rapids as he had before been to escape them. His only care was to keep his boat head down, so that if he should vi I I ~ - TH I.: LOG CANOE. MAlarco ~,ocs after his cap. encounter any snag or rock he might not be thrown broadside on. He kept a good lookout too ahead. The boat shot through the water like an arrow, and was soon clear of the rapids in the comparatively still water below. Marco contrived to paddle with his pole, so as to overtake the cap and recover it. Then he went to the shore and landed. He drew up the boat as high as he could, and went back to seek the other boys. He concluded that it was time to go home. His conscience now began to reproach- him with the wrong which he had been doing. His promised pleasure had failed. His clothes were wet and uncomfortable. His mind was anxious and unhappy. With a heavy heart he began to retrace his steps, sure of detection whien he reached home, and of punishm-ent. He did not, however, dread the punishment so much as the just displeasu'e which Ilis cousin would manifest, and the evidence of the pain which he knew his cousin \would sufer, when he cattle to learn how his puhli had betrayed the conrfidence whi,ich had been reposed in him. Before he set otlt for hotle, however, he took )ff sucih (i' his clothes as wvere iiiost wet, and wrung out the water as well as he could, and then put them on again. if 113 M,arco's remoi,)rse. 114 M R A CO PAUL IN V ER MONT. He returns to the office. When he drew near to the house, he expected to see his uncle still at work, but he was not there. Marco reconnoitered the place carefully, and then went into the office. His uncle was not in the office. He passed through into the study. He was afraid that Forester would be there, but, to his surprise and joy, he was not, and there was no sign that he had been there since the morning. Marco looked at the watch, and found that it was only about half-past eleven. So he took down a volume of the Encyclopedia and began to read. He read the article canoe, and he found some information about the bark canoes made by Indians, but nothing about log canoes. In about fifteen minutes he heard the office door open, and his cousin Forester came in. Forester walked into the study, but said nothing to Marco. Marco kept at his work, without speaking to his cousin. He began to hope that he might yet escape. His only fear now was lest his wet clothes should be observed. He put his hand down many times to his knees, to ascertain how fast they were drying. The clothes that he wore were of woolen, and of a dark color, so that they did not show the wet very distinctly, and, besides, the sun and the air THE LoG CANOE. Clothes dry. were warm that day, and the clothes had dried fast. In a word, when twelve o'clock arrived and Marco put his books away, nobody would have observed that his clothes had been wet. He ran about in the open air until dinner-time, and though, when he went in to dinner, he felt oppressed with a sense of guilt and of self-condemnation, he was satisfied that no one suspected him. Marco thought that he had had a very lucky escape. 115 116 MARCo PAUL IN VERMONT. iarco'B fees. Detection. CHAPTER VII. A DILEMMA. HOUGH Marco's first feeling was that of relief, to find that he had got back from his truancy without detection, he felt, after all, ill at ease. He kept out of sight till the dinnerbell rang, and then he was almost afraid to go in, for fear that, by some accident or other, his uncle might have noticed his absence, and might ask him something about it. He was usually much interested at dinner-time in talking with Forester about plans for the afternoon; Dut now he felt guilty and afraid, and he was disinclined to look his uncle or his cousin in the {ace, or to speak a word. And yet it was not punishment that Marco was afraid of. There were very few boys who could bear punishment of any kind with more fortitude than he, or to whom the idea of punishment gave less concern. It was the detection itself, rather than what was to come after it, that he feared. There is something in the very act of being detected and exposed in guilt, Detection. Mlarco's fears. A DILEMMA. The mili-pond. The secret a burden. which the heart instinctively shrinks from; and many a boy would willingly bear in secret twice the pain which the punishment of an offense would bring, rather than have his commission of the offense discovered and made known. There was, however, no indication, at the dinner table, that Marco's cousin or uncle suspected him of any wrong. They talked of various subjects in their usual manner. Forester had arranged it with Marco, to go that afternoon down to the mill-pond, to examine the boat, in order to see whether they could have it fitted with oars, and to make arrangements to that effect. Marco now hoped that Forester had forgotten this plan, and would not go. Though he had been very much interested in the plan the day before, he now felt disinclined to go. He wished to be alone, or at least out of sight of Forester. He felt as if he had a terrible secret on his mind, and that there was great danger that something or other would occur to discover it. So he hoped that Forester would have forgotten the appointment, and that it would be thus postponed to some future time. But Forester had not forgotten it; and after dinner, he asked Marco how soon he should 117 118 MARCO PAI IL IN XVEI MONT. Valk to the mill-pond. be ready to go. MIarco said that he should be ready at any time; and in about half an hour they set out. They walked together to the miill-pond. Forester said that the boat belonged to a man who worked in the mills, but he lived a little distance above them. His house was near the water, in a little valley. The water of the pond extended up into this valley, forming a sort of bay. A road led to the house, but did not go beyond it. The house was small, but it had IFe 51LI N iOSE A Ji) 1 9 1J E i,l AT A, pleasant little yards and gardens about it, and various pens and coops for different sorts of animals. The man wl-ho lived there was famous for keeping a great many animals. ITe had pigs, and cows, and Malta cats, and two dogs,-one of them a water dog, —and ducks and geese,-among the latter, two wild geese,and hens and rabbits; and there were two gray squirrels, hanging up in a cage by the side of the front door. Forester told Marco about these animals as they walked along. AMarco was very fond of animals, and he began to anticipate great pleasure in seeing these. When they came near the house, he ran forwvard to look at the wild geese. The water dig ran to meet Forester. He knew Forester, having often seen him there before. Forester and Iarco rambled about the yards, looking at the animals for some time, and then went to the water's edge, which was very near the house. The ducks and geese were swimming in the water. Forester called the dog there, and Marco amused himself for some time in throwing sticks into the water, and ordering the dog, whose name was Nelson, to plunge in and go and bring them back. The boat was there too, "-etened by, a rope to a post in the bank. At 119 'fhe house. Animals. T'-,o dog. 120 t A R CO PA I L IN -V ER MC)N'I' Oars and paddles. lengthl, after 3farco had satisfied himself with these amusements, he said, " \Well, cousin Forester, here is the boat." "Yes," said Forester, "but the man don't seem to be at home. I presume he's at the mill." "And what shall we do in that case?" asked Alarco. " Why, I will go into the house first, and ascertain the fact, and get a paddle." So Forester went into the house, and soon afterward returned, bringing with him a paddle. He said that the man was at the mill, but that his wife said that they might have the boat to go and find him. "I thought," said Forester, "that you would rather go in the boat than walk." "Yes," said Marco, "I should." "Besides," continued Forester, "I can teach you to paddle." Aflarco took the paddle from Forester's hand. He had never seen one before. He said that they always used oars, not paddles, in New York harbor. A paddle is shaped very differently firom an oar. It is much shorter and lighter,-though the blade is broader. A paddle is worked, too, differently from an oar. An oar lieaddles. A DIL. E MMI A. Secret hard to keel). acts as a lever against the side of the boat,the middle of it resting in a small notch called a row-lock, or between two wooden pins. But a paddle is held in the hands entirely. "What do they have paddles for in this country?" said Marco. "Oars are better." "You are not competent to decide that question," replied Forester. "Why not?" said Marco; "I have rowed boats many a time." "Yes, but you have never paddled much. You have used oars, but not paddles, and so you can not compare them." "Well," said MIarco, "I mean to try this paddle now, and then I can tell." Marco had seen the boys who were with him in the boat that morning, using their poles as paddles, and he had used one of the poles in that manner himself; and he was just upon the point of saying something upon the subject, when suddenly he recollected that it would betray him. in fact, Marco found that having such a secret as this upon his mind, was a source of great embarrassment and constraint, as he more than once came very near making some allusion inadvertently, which would have resulted in his exposure. While speaking of 121 AI~rco;s opinion. I 22 MA\ R C O PA Ui L, I N V ER ONT. Paddlinig. boats, and oars, and paddles, and such subjects, he had to be continually upon his guard and to watch all his words. They got into -:::::- - the boat and push =- -.... ed out upon the - =-;-~- water. Forester taught Marco how tHo use the paddle. He gave him his seat in the stern -—._;~ ~.~.~-of the t)oat, and _-_ directed him to grasp the lower _.... -,,end of the handle A D J,i.-:~ with the other hand. Then, by dipping the blade in the water and pushing the water back, the boat was propelled forward. He also explained to him how, by turning the blade of the paddle, one way or the other, he ould give the bow of the boat an impulse toward the right or toward the left. "Thus you see," said Forester, "with a paddle yvou can steer, but with an oar you can not." "W Vith two oars I can," said Marco. Yes." replied Forester. "You must have Steersman neede(d in rowing. Philosophy of rowing. two oars to guide a boat, but you can do it with one paddle. Therefore, if you can have but one, a paddle is better than an oar. There is another advantage in a paddle; that is, in using it, your face lookls the way that you are going." "Yes," rejoined Marco, "that is a great advantage." "In rowing, you must sit with your back to the bow of the boat, and look over your shouldel to see where you are going." "Yes," said Marco, "unless you have a steersman." "True," replied Forester. " When you have several men to row, and one to steer, you get along very well with oars, but in case of only one man, there is an advantage in a paddle. There is still another point to be considered, — a paddle is better for a narrow boat and oars for wide ones." Why so?" asked Marco. "Because," said Forester, "a certain width is required in a boat in order to work oars well. The oarsman must sit upon the seat, and extend the oar off upon one side of the boat, and there must be a certain distance between the part which he takes hold of, and the row-lock, in order to work to advantage. But it is no A [') I L E