The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1878-02-15

idea of weight was defective. "Won't
Ben be jealous? There, old fellow, lie
there. Now l must get that plagued
paddle"
But that plagued paddle was far be-
yond her reach now, and was floating
TRANQUILITY off to shore. cts good
thing there's another in the bottom of
the boat, or should be in bad fix" So
liloquized Lutte, as she threw out her
line again.
She fished on till nearly dark; even
then the fish were biting so well
that she could hardly prevail on herself
to stop. But the air was growing chilly,
and she knew she ought to be in the
house. So she resolutely drew in her
line and wrapped it around the pole,
lowered her feet, reached down in the
boat for the remaining paddle
The paddle wasn't there!
She felt nervously in every impossible
place for the missing paddle, but it was
nowhere to be found. Well, she was in
a fixl Out in the middle of the pond,
with no possible means of getting to
shorel Night was coming on rapidly,
and she was already shivering with cold.
Nobody at the house knew where she
was; they would think she was in town
visiting.
But the house was not far off-maybe
very loud. She rose, and opened her
mouth to give prodigious yell; but she
could not speak above a whisper. Her
damp feet and the chill night air had
brought her cold to this climax.
Lutte sat down, overwhelmed. There
was nothing she could do-absolutely
nothing. She would have to stay out
there all night, and she knew-there was
no use mincing matters-it would be the
death of her. She looked tragically into
growing darkness, and thought, even if
they came there to search for her, they
could not see her from the shore, and she
would not be able to utter sound to let
them know she was near. She forgot
there was such thing as a moon at
night.
But stop! she could utter a sound
thank Heaven she could whistle. Her
face frightened as she thought of this
despised accomplishment of hers. With
rising spirits, she drew her overskirt
over her shoulders to keep herself warm
er, and began to whistle Schubert's
Serenade" in her finest style. The
birds started in their nests as the
strange sweet notes foated toward them,
then dropped their drowsy little heads
and slept more soundly than ever. Music
is good thing, but sleep is a better, at
night.
! Just then she thought she heard dis
tant footsteps coming toward the pond.
She hastily resumed her whistling to di-
rect them to her; she had no wish to stay
out of doors all night, no matter how
beautiful it was. The footsteps drew
nearer, they come hurrying down the
slope, and in few minutes Cousin
Reuben stood in a narrow strip of moon
light on the edge of the pond.
"Good God Lutte" he cried in an agi-
tated voice, "what are you staying out
on the water this late at night for? Don't
you feel how cold it is? 1t is enough to
kill you"
Lutte had stopped whistling abruptly,
and now motioned to the paddle, which
was lying near his feet. He did not un-
derstand, aud cried, impatiently, "Why
don't yon come to shore? Oh, you rash
girl, to be sitting there with your bad
cold! Make haste and paddle back"
Lutte kept motioning so persistently at
his feet that he glanced down and saw
the paddle. He picked it up and said
quickly, "Did you drop this out of the
boat? Haven't you the other one in
there?"
Lutte nodded to the first question and
shook her head at the last. Why don't
you speak? Have you lost your voice %
She nodded vehemently, and touched
her throat and chest.
"Good Cod" he repeated, tearing of
his coat and overcoat, "she is so hoarse
she can't speak. Oh, child, you'll kill
yourself"
He jerked up the paddle and was in
the water, swimming toward her, before
she knew what he was doing. When he
came to the boat he lifted himself in
| lightly, and sat with his back to her, so
his wet knees and feet would not touch
her. Lutte watched him with peculiar
look during the few minutes he was pad
ding back to shore. He did not speak
till he had fastened the boat and helped
her out. Then he took up his overcoat
and said, "you are shivering; let me put
this around YOU"
ooh, no; you are wet, she whispered.
"You must put it on"
GA little wetting won't hurt me-" he
said; Pm as tough as pine. You
must let me put it around you. Will
you put your arms through the sleeves?
Well-there! Don't touch me or Pll get
you wet"
az will touch you; don't care if / do
get wet" she said in a sobbing whisper,
laying her hand on his dripping sleeve.
=" was so rude to you yesterday, you
ought to have let me staid out there all
night in the cold"
"Oh, no." he said, smiling, and wrap
ping his overcoat more tightly around
her.
"And it was all about nothing" she
said. at was all because Ben said that
you-you-"
"That WHAT" asked Reuben, bend
ing his head closer, so he could hear her.
you thought it was unladylike and
and ill-bred in me to whistle. Do you