American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1873-05-31

slaughts. One day she wrote a parody OF
his last article-very cleverly done it was
too, with most laugh provoking carica
tures-and left it in plain sight on his study
table. Her little sarcastic speeches were
as singing as the wasps' nest she hired
our little Irish boy to deposit in his coat
pocket. The good professor, though
usually indifferent to her attacks, mani
tested at times the irritation of a great
dog when a fly tickles his nose too incess
antly; at which time Floy's exultation was
excessive.
Now, John, I'll take no denial; you
must go to the picnic with u.s."
20, my dear Kate
You needn't talk if you don't want to
but go you must. It's very bad for you
to confine yourself to the society of flies
and cockroaches. and such 'pesky var
mints'-isnt it. Floy. darling-mustn't he
gos"
II wouldn't urge him." said Floy, with
a naughty shrug, 1.-The flies, the cock
| reaches, and the other pretty little crea-
tures would shed more tears over his alb
sence than we are likely to, dare say
John looked really hurt for a moment,
as he glanced across the table at his saw
age little opponent Kate gave her cross
look that appalled, her somewhat.
| Come, John, you'll go with u.s.
l IL,
a sigh of resignation; but to Floy he adj
| dressed neither word nor look during the
remainder of the breakfast.
Two hours later we were on our way-a
merry party of thirty or forty at the least
A ride of several miles brought us to
Sylvan Falls, place whose wild and
romantic beauty rises before me now, like
the memory of delightful dream
Plunging into the woods at once, we fol
| fba inh LODI 4 I,o
falls, the distant music of which soon re-
sounded in our ears. On we stumbled
| often Indian file" over the narrow up
hill and down-hill path that led through
the woods; shouting and screaming as we
clambered over the huge rocks that often
| strove to arrest our way. The music OF
| the falls grew louder and louder, anbat
| length sudden turn in the path brought
them to our view. Down what seemed a
huge stairway hewn in the solid rock they
plunged, bursting into a white fury OF
foam over the detached pieces of rock
| which here and there strove to intercept
their mad career.
Here we paused to rest, admire the
scenery, and eat our luncheon, for which
the most poetic mind was by this time
ravenously anxious With two exceptions,
we were all in the best of spirits. One OF
these was John who, never much at his
ease in such gathering, began to feel eX-
cessively bored" and took the earliest
| opportunity to slip off, unperceived. The
other was Floy who, for such q naturally
bright little body, appeared uncommonly
| dull; and after a while, she too slipped
away, deserving several youthful admirers,
who had been trying to entertain her.
The history of her subsequent adventures
| 1 received from Kate.
| FLOW, when she set out, had no intention
of roaming to any distance; but, absorbed
in her own rather sorrowful reflections,
she wandered on insensibly. Poor little
coquette! She now suspected, l think,
that she was becoming entangled in the
net she had cast for another, and was by
no means so insensible to Johns GOODNESS
as she would have had US imagine. 1t was
not till she had wandered some distance
that a feeling of loneliness oppressed her,
and she turned to retrace her steps. But
that was no light matter; it was easy, very
| easy, to lose oneself in these old woods.
Amid all the crooks and turns and devi-
Gus pathways, the poor child soon found
herself bewildered, and began to cry in
sad earnest Then she called for help,
but no voice answered her. Plunging
desperately at last into a path she had a
vague hope might lead her in the right
direction, she followed it for some dis
lance, pausing, all at once, with violent
start, as in little thicket on the side of
/
| Floy's feeling was one of intense relief;
the next instant she sprang back into the
shelter of the trees. 'I'll follow at dis
| tance," she muttered, 'but not let him see
me for the world-the pompous old
prig!"
| Still she could not, for the life of her,
help putting out her little head to see what
the 'pompous old prig" was doing. With
his hat lightly extended in his hand, an
expression of mingled rapture and ankle
| ty on his face, he was stealing cautiously
toward the ed ge of the bank. There, evil
IDENTIFY, in the center of that wild rose
tapestry, swinging SO gracefully from tree
to tree, had settled the prize he was SO
anxious to secure. Floy watched him, a
look of mingled amusement and contempt
comically depicted on her pretty face.
| There, now, one would think the whole
world depended on his catching that but
terfly. l hope you'll lose her, Mr.. Pom
pous. Good! she's fiuttered off. Now he
follows her, all excitement. Gracious
he's just on the edge of the bank! Shall
1 call? Nonsense! He's big enough to
take care of himself. He wouldn't thank
me-OW
With a piercing shrek Floy sprang
from the thicket where she had concealed
herself. John, in the hurry and excite
ment of the chase, had set his foot upon a
rolling stone. The consequences were
disastrous. Over the steep bank he went,
clutching vainly at the brambles for sup
port. An appalling silence followed.
Floy stood one instant, white and almost
stunned with the sudden shock. Then
she rushed forward, gained the bank, and
kneeling on its edge, looked down, with
agonized, shrinking glance. There he
lay, poor fellow! quite pale and still, his
head dangling backward little, while
over those sable locks a narrow crimson
stream slowly wound its way. His arms
were thrown out, his hands still clenched
convulsively over the bramble clusters he
had clutched in his fall.
Floy, frozen with horror, knelt silently
a moment, gazing at the pale face and
rigid form beneath Her head swan, her
heart grew sick. Was he dead? How
stiff and still he lay! She burst into loud
cries of entreaty and selfreproach.
80, John-John, are you dead? Look
up, for Gods sake! o, wicked girl that
l was, not to speak. Help-help!" she
shrieked, wildly.
Slowly the heavy eyes Enclosed. With
infinite pain John turned his head a little
l"Who's that?" he said, family.
80, thank Godr' cried Floy, joyfully
springiHg to her feet Keep quite still
and | will come down to you"
John muttered something she did no,
understand. Going a little distance, she
began to descend the steep path leading
even for our light-footed Floy, and, hall
way down, she slipped, fell, and rolled ig
ANONYMOUSLY the rest of the way. John
uttered a brief ejaculation, but FlOy was
up in an instant, scratched and bruised
her white dress black with mud but 9th