Part 60 (1/2)

Cramp seized upon poor Ramrod, and though he made a gallant and desperate struggle to reach land with the aid of his arms alone, he felt that only by a miracle could he do so.

Moment by moment he felt himself growing weaker and less able to withstand the chill which was striking through to his very heart.

At last the supreme moment came. He could go no farther. Brave and collected to the last, he raised his eyes to heaven as in thought he commended his soul to his Maker.

At that instant the sound of oars struck his ear, and the hope it brought him gave him sufficient strength to keep up until a friendly hand grasped him under the arm.

With his last little bit of strength he raised his hand, still grasping the halter, and smiled triumphantly; then he lost consciousness.

The ”coffin” was brought ash.o.r.e afterwards, but no one had the hardihood to navigate it. Even towing it was a trial of temper, for it kept swinging from side to side with a heavy jerking motion with every pull at the oars.

Ramrod, I am glad to say, lived to have many a quiet paddle in his queer boat whenever he went a-fis.h.i.+ng; and this, it appears, was all he intended it for when he built it.

Thus ended this famous moose hunt, but the talk of it lasted for many a year; and whenever a pleasure-party were out on the river enjoying a sail by moonlight, this was the one story that was never stale, and mention of ”Ramrod's coffin” would cause a smile to appear on the face of even the most grave.

The moose, when brought ash.o.r.e, proved to be quite young, though full-grown, as its horns were not much more than ”buds.”

[Sidenote: Edith Harley was called upon to play a rather difficult part.

But her patience and her obedience to the call of duty brought their own reward.]

A Girl's Patience

BY

C. J. BLAKE

”A letter from Rachel! Is it possible she can have relented at last?”

Dr. Harley looked across the breakfast-table at his wife as he spoke; and the children, of all ages and sizes, who were busy with their bowls of porridge, stopped the clatter of tongues and spoons to listen.

”Read it, dear,” said Mrs. Harley, in her slow, gentle voice. ”It must be ten years since Rachel wrote that last dreadful letter. Surely she must have learnt to forgive and forget by this time!”

”Send some of these children away, then. Maude and Jessie can stay; but it is time the others were getting ready for lessons.”

There was a hurried, scrambling finish of the simple breakfast; then a little troop of boys and girls filed out of the rather shabby dining-room, and Dr. and Mrs. Harley were alone with their elder daughters.

”'MY DEAR BROTHER,'” began the doctor,--”'I am growing an old woman now, and in spite of the good reasons I had for ceasing to write, or to communicate with you in any way, I do not feel that I can keep up the estrangement from my own flesh and blood any longer.

”'If you like to let bygones be bygones, I, on my side, am quite willing to do the same. I am writing, too, because I have heard a good deal, in one way or another, about your large and expensive family, and the difficulty you have in making both ends meet. It has been more than hinted to me that I ought to render, or at least offer, you some a.s.sistance. I have thought perhaps the best thing would be to take one of your girls for a six months' visit; to stay longer, or, indeed, always, if I should, after such a trial, continue to be pleased with her.

”'I don't want a young child, but one old enough to be companionable. Of course I would provide for education, and everything, so long as she stayed with me. It would surely be a relief to have even one of such a number taken off your hands, and it would be the girl's own fault if the relief were not made permanent. If this should meet your views, write at once, and fix a date for one of your daughters to come to me. Your affectionate sister,

”'RACHEL HARLEY.'”

”Oh, papa!” exclaimed Maude and Jessie in a breath, ”how could we ever leave you, and dear mamma too! We should be miserable away from home.”

”From Aunt Rachel's letter, I should think she must be a dreadfully stiff sort of person,” added audacious Jessie. ”Please don't say that we shall have to go.”