Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1875-07-09

assault, and Corson could tell his own sto-
~ TO the master.
Some of the schoolboys had qualms
about engaging in this conspiracy, but they
were overborne by the others, who declar-
ed that such a coward ought to be taught to
fight. or course, there we're some boys in
the school who were not let into the secret
at ALL Their disapproval of the scheme
was assured beforehand.
The weather had been warm for two or
three days, and the schoolmaster began to
feel uneasy about the ice, knowing that
some OF the boys were accustomed to cross
on ii. A sudden rise in the river during
the night had been reported to him by
fisherman who lived on the bank, and Mr..
Green thought best to go down and exam
inc the ice.
He walked along the shore until he was
stopped by an old pile OF lodged driftwood.
In the open spaces bene ath this great, loose
heap of trunks of trees, boughs and boards,
he heard smothered voices, and he soon
saw several Of his own pupils hidden here,
so intent on watching something beyond
that they did not see him.
He turned up the bank till ho reached
place where he could see over the top of the
drift. There stood Curson, with his coat
of, confronting Finlay.
"You've got to fight now, dog on you! -
said Corson. "You can't tell the master,
for my story will be as good as yours"
"You mean to whip me first, and then
lie about it, said Henry Finlay, quietly.
''But what do you want TO fight rorH What
harm have done your
"You're a coward and a ell-tale. Get
ready now, for you've got TO stand your
ground"
Fnlay quietly laid down his books and
the slate which Corson had been obliged to
buy in place of the old one, and stood pre-
pared to defend himself with his back to
the bank. This gave him a little the ad-
vantage of ground.
"Why don't you come down here, you
coward and fight on a levelS ?" cried Dick.
"If you don't like my way, what DO you
fight for ?" retorted Finlay. l am peace
able fellow. You are a bully. You have
picked this lonesome place TO attack me. 1
do not want to fight, and won't stand out
and fight like a rooster, or a bulldog, or a
prize fighter. If l he'd stick or stone,
l would not hesitate TO use il to defend my
self. shall not fight you as a man, but as
| would a bad dog. l shall stand here. If
you walk away, shall go on. If you at
tack me like highwayman, shall knock
you down, il there is strength enough un-
der my roundabout, and think there is"
This was more than Dick Corson had bar
gained for. He saw that Finlay utterly
rejected his code, and took all the advant-
age OF his offensive position. And Finlay
had never seemed to him quite so strong as
at this moment.
The fellow was not exactly coward, af-
ter all. He was as cool as he could be- and
it gradually dawned on Dick that If he
struck at Finlay once, he might give the
boys under the drio-heap the pleasure OF
seeing his own defeat.
For the present, therefore, he contented
himself with taunts, which did not seem
to disturb his big, good-natured antagonist.
Finlay sat down on a log near by, while
Corson continued 10 exhaust his breath,
conscious all the time that the boys under
the drift-pile must begin TO lose patience
soon.
Suddenly Henry Finlay arose and START
ed forward, saying, "Get out of the way,
Dick, the ice is mcvingr'
"You liew said Dick. "Irs no such
thing You just want TO get away, and l
won't let you.
"I tell you it Is moving and there's your
brother Tom halfway over! He'll be
drownedr'
"You don't come that gum-g game over
me !" cried Corson, whose courage revived
at what he thought the first symptoms Of
returning cowardice on the part of Finlay.
In truth, the great mass of ice, nearly
mile in width, had begun to move slightly,
and Dicks younger brother, on his way to
school, was walking at his usual pace, un-
conscious that the ice was afloat. 1t must
soon break up, and then the lad would per-
haps be drowned.
Finlay sprang forward, but Dick caught
him by the collar and stopped him; upon
which Finlay, with an impatient and pow
erful shove, sent the bully backward head
long into the gravel and sand.
The boys in The drift, who had not seen
the moving ice, but who had lost all ad-
lOl DiNhf "
But in moment everybody was looking
at the ice which now began TO grind against
the shore, with a crashing and thunderous
sound. A large fiat boat, nearly hundred
feet long, was torn from its moorings and
crushed by the slow, but irresistible mo-
tion of the ice, which ground the timbers
to splinters.
Powerful as was this slow, smooth ava.
lanche of ice, it was broken in turn by an
immense rlit that stretched nearly from
shore to shore, passing within twenty feet
of Tom Corson.
The poor lad was now thoroughly fright
ened, and ran in terror towards the shore,
where stood all the boys and the master,
each suggesting different plan for saving
him, for the ice on which he stood was be-
ginning to break up, and he could not get
within hundred yards Of the shore,
great longitudinal flssure having shut him
off.
Finlay launched a skitf in the opening
made by the first rim, and called to Dick
to get in with him. Dick refused, declar-
ing that a skiff could not live two minutes
in the ice.
lue sSuoolHuuSteIi ho"eNeIi SOt III Win
Henry, and they pushed of. Just then a
great, triangular piece which had been
loosened by the second fssure, caught
against tie shore, and being forced down
by the mass of ice above, assumed rota-
ry motion, aud soon made kindling wood
of the skiff.
The master and Finlay were glad to get
to the shore with their lives. Both had
held to their oars, and Finlay seized the
one carried by the schoolmaster, and with