Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1876-11-29

be two boys on such a prairie, or
such . day, on such a horse, and
not yell like wildcatsl
"It's pretty" said little Titus
softy, when they got tired of yell
ing.
"You bet" said Tam, loudly
"Hi--hi. Hi! Yi-i-ee-ee p
/ 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
generally little bad when there
was q chance.
"Father said to come home pret-
ty soon," said Titus.
"But," urged Tam, with a bright
air, "mother said to hold on tight,
Hill Hill Yiw
All! what was thati What was
iti Could Jerusalem answeri-
Can the wild winds talk? Will the
mad prairie speaki The sunshine
is tongue-tied, and the great sky is
dumb. But something answered
Tam O'Shanter's shout.
"Oh, therel Oh, Titus! Quick,
quick, quick! Turn him round.
Injuns! Injuns! Oh, wish we
hadn't come. What shall we dol
Oh, Tam, they've all got horses,
and they're coming 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-shoot."
And still how beautiful it was.
How the wind played like one gone
crazy for JOY with the tender tops
of the unbroken, unbonuded grass.
And soft, as if the world had gone
to sleep for very safety, fell the
magnificent western sun. Beauti-
full, terrible, treacherous thing.
Cutting through the soft horizon
tai line, sharp as knife through
shrinking flesh, six dark figures
loomed against the sky. Wildly
before them, with the gigantic
strides Of a long-stepped roadster,
filed big, gaunt, homely, grand
old horse. And olinging with lit
tie bare feet to his white sides, and
with despairing arms clinging to
one another were two little boys.
Pretty little Mrs. Jacobs had got
the baby that wasn'nt quiet so new
to sleep, and given Betty her patch
work, and sont husband out his
beer, and swept the kitchen aud
built tue fire, and started supper
on the way, and ! don't know what
else besides, wien that fine mothers
ears Of hers detected, through the
sough Of the wind upon the prairie,
\ sherp, uneven and, in her notion,
rather ugly sound.
Betty was sitting in the door,
but she heard nothing. The sleep
ing babies did 40. stir from their
baby dreams. John was In the
garden, but John heard never q
sound.
Only the mother heard the sound.
Only the mother grew lynx-eyed
IN an instant. and in an instant was
,ut with hand upraised-just so
sgain--bare-headed, stern-mouth-
ID, anxious-hearted, watching as
hose watch who have lived much
ACE to face with death--without a
word. She did not even call her
husband. The time had not come
10 speak.
1t might have been Ave minutes;
L might have been less or more
who could tell when John Jacobs,
heavily over an obstinate
potato, felt q hand laid lightly on
his shoulder. His wife stood be-
side him.. She was pale az many
hours dead; but she stood quite
,till.
"John," she said In o low voice,
come into the house this minute
"what's the matter, Susan f.
wrongi Amt the boys
inf What You--don't-meanT y
He bolted In.
"Lock everything. Draw the
shutters. Fasten them with case
knives besides 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