The Elk County advocate. [volume] (Ridgway, Pa.) 1868-1883, 1875-10-28

it tried. The green waves of the soft
grass rolled madly. The wind was
high. The sun was so bright they could
not look at it. The strong horse bound
ed with mighty leaps. The boys could
feel the muscles quivering and drawn
tense in his soft, warm body, as they
clung. 1t was like being q horse your
self. They did not know which was
horse and which was boy. They laughed
because they could not help it, and
shouted because they did not know it.
Hi ! Eli Oh, the sun, and the mad
grass, and the wild wind ! Hi Hi !
Yi-i-i Who could be two boys on such
prairie, on such a day, on such q
horse, and not yell like little wildcats 2
" It's pretty" said little Titus, softly,
when they had got tired of yelling.
4" You bet p said Tam, loudly. Hi !
Hi | Hi Yi-i-ee-ee I"
"I guess we ought to go back" said
Titus, pretty soon Titus was so much
more likely to remember to be good,
"Oh, no." said Tam, who was gen
orally little bad, when there was q
chance.
Father said to come home pretty
soon," said Titus.
But" urged Tam, with bright
air, /" mother said to hold on tight. Hi |!
Yil Yi!"
All what was that What was it 2
Could Jerusalem answer9 Can the
wild winds talk : Will the mad prairie
speak ? The sunshine is tongue-tied,
and the great sky is dumb. But some
thing answered Tam O'Shanter's shout.
Oh, there Oh, Titus Quick,
quick, quick Turn him round, Tam !!
Turn Jerusalem round ! Injuns In
juns ! Oh, L wish we hadn't come I!
What shall we do, what shall we do
Oh, Tam, what shall we do ? Oh, Tam,
they've all got horses, and they're COM
ing straight Get up ! Get up Oh,
Jerusalem, do hurry Old fellow, do
get us home Good boy Good old
fellow
Oh, Tam they've got arrows, and
they're going-to-sho
Pretty little Mrs. Jacobs had got the
newest baby to sleep, and got the baby
that wasn't quite so new to sleep, and
given Betty her patchwork, and swept
the kitchen, and built the fire, and
know what else besides, when that fine
mothers ears of hers detected, through
the sough of the wind upon the prairie,
sharp, uneven, and, to her notion,
rather ugly sound.
Betty was sitting in the door, but she
heard nothing. The sleeping babies did
not stir from their baby dreams. John
was in the garden, but John heard never
a sound.
Only the mother heard it. Only the
mother grew lynx-eyed in an instant,
and in an instant was out with hand up
raised, bareheaded, stern-mouthed, anx-
ious-hearted, watching as those watch
who have lived much face to face with
death-without word. She did not
even call her usband. The time had
not come to speak.
1t might have been three minutes it
might have been less or more who could
tell when John Jacobs, digging heavily
over an obstinate potato, felt hand laid
lightly upon his shoulder. His wife
stood beside him. She was as pale as
one many hours dead but she stood
quite still.
"John," she said, in a low voice,
"come into the house a minute"
He obeyed her in wonder and in
silence. He just dropped his hoe and
went.
"Now, shut the door," said Susan.
He shut it. "Shut the windows"
"What's the matter, Susan? Any
thing wrong? Amt the boys in3 You
don t-mean -
Hush .sh Before the children
Don't, John I'll tell you in a minute.
Bolt the front door !"
He bolted it,
Lock everything. Draw the shut
ters. Fasten them with case-knives be-
sides the buttons. Is the cellar door
tight Is everything tight? Betty,
take care of the babies a minute for
mother. John, come here!"
She led him to the little attic, and
from the narrow, three -cornered window
pointed to the prairie, still without a
word.
And still, how beautiful it was How
the wind played like one gone crazy for
Joy with the tender tops of the un-
broken, unbounded grass. And soft, as
if the world had gone to sleep for very
safety, fell the magnificent western sun.
Beautiful, terrible, treacherous thing
Cutting through the soft horizon line,
sharp as the knife through shrinking
flesh, six dark figures loomed against
the sky. Wildly before them, with the
gigantic strides of a long stepped
ro ;dster, fled big, gaunt, homely,
grand old horse. And clinging with lit
tie, bright bare feet to his white sides,
and clinging with little, despairing arms
to one another.
"My God They are our boys!"
John Jacobs threw up his arms and
ran.
Quick as womans thought ran, his
wife was before him, and had bolted the
attic door.
"Where are you going, John2"
She spoke, he though, in her natural
tones, though she trembled horribly.
Where was he going? Why, to meet
them, save them-get his guu-blow
these devils brains out-what did she
mean9 Why did she keep himi Quick,
quick Open the door !
"My husband" said Susan, still in
those strangely quiet tones, "we cannot
save our boys. Look for yourself and
see. They will be shot before they
reach the house. We have three chill
dren left. You must save them, and for
their sakes, yourself, John. Keep the
door looked. Keep the windows barred.
Keep the shutters drawn. Give me the
old pistol and my gun. Take your own
and guard the door. There's a chance
that they'll live to get here and be let in.
But not one step outside that door, John
Jacobs, as you're the father of three liv-
ing children Oh, John, John, John
My poor little boys %
| He thoupht she would have hrolxen