Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1873-04-17
s'W ell 2"

y
me warm. You are teezing.'
"No l amt | took it off be-
cause it was so awful hot" and taking
out his handkerchief with his olsen
gagged hand, he made pretense Of
wiping the Precipitation from his brow.
"How long have l been asleep?"
"About three hours. We are drift
ting in shore now
''Shall we be saved? ?"
81 don't know. Put your arms
around my neck for I'm going to take
mine away"
Becky did this time as she was bid.
She not only threw her arms quickly
around his neck, but she laid her head
upon his breast without the slightest
hesitation. In the darkness Fred did
not know that she imprinted a kiss
upon his shirt-bosom.
Hold fast now!" he cried. 'Hold
on for your dear life!'
The log had been gradually nearing
the shore for some time, and it now
shot suddenly y under a large sycamore
which overhung the bank and trailed
its branches in the brown flood. Quick
as thought Fred seized the limb above
his head, and pulled with all his might.
The headlong course of the cotton
wood was checked; it plunged heavily
and partly turned over, its top became
entangled in the sycamore and ter
rife cracking Of limbs ensucd. With
a sudden spring Fred gained the pro-
jecting branch, dragging his clinging
burden after him. In another instant
the cottonwood had broken away and
continued its voyage down the river,
while the bent sycamore regained its
shape with such a quick rebound that
the two travellers were very nearly
precipitated into the stream again.
Fred half supporting, half dragging
Becky, worked his way to the trunk
by series Of gymnastics that would
have done no discredit to Blondin,
and in moment more both had reach
ed the ground in safety.
"That's business we are well out
off, he said when he had regained his
breath. ''Now where are we?'
He looked about. A light was
glimmering from a habitation behind
them, a short distance from where
they stood. Becky could not walk
without great pain, and Fred lifted
her lightly in his arms and started for
the house. Itproved to be the dwell
of a small planter who was not lack
ing in hospitality, Here their wants
were quickly attended to, and under the
cheering influence of warmth and shell
ter, Becky was soon herself again.
They drove home on the following
day, Fred having procured the lone OF
the planters horse and chaise for that
purpose, promising to return them by
Mr.. Newton's servants the next day
after. The morning was bright and
clear, and the fragrance of the orange
groves was in the air. Becky, who
had maintained almost utter silence
since their escape from the cotton
wood, was no less silent now. Fred
himself did not appear particularly
communicative, and many miles of
the long ride were taken without a
remark from either 1t was Becky
who spoke first.
"Fred," she said.
"Yes ?"
"You have saved my life, have you
not. p
"Happy to do it any day." he re-
marked, not knowing exactly what
else to say.
81 thank you very much
"Quite welcome, I'm sure"
There was another long silence,
broken only by the sound of the
horses hoofs upon the road. Fred
himself seemed to have lost some of
his habitual ease, for he kept his whip
in constant motion, and he held the
reins nervously.
erred ?"
"Yes ?"
care you going to write to that
young lady in.New Orleans
81 s'pose So"
Hadn't you-better-try again
before you-before you write?"
He turned his eyes full upon her,
and opened them wide.