Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1880-06-03

that I filed my basket in half an
hour, for all his theories, and we
have as many flowers in New En-
gland as they do in Old England
son And the sanguine little creature
hurried on to do it. She found one pale
little hepatica, and bud beside it, and
after an hour diligence she found moth
ing else, not one sweet bit of epig8a,
and she was getting highly irate with
the American flora, when she paused to
see bird wing through the spaces, and
to tell him how silly he was to think it
was summer yet, after all. Mr.. Wills
ton will be so pleasedr' she said, indig-
nantly, as if nature ought to take her
part. 1t was picturesque bit of woods
just there; the long lofty stems of the
undraped trees crowding up into the
tending into shadow, and on the other
thickets lining the bank, where, some
ing along over rapids and falls in way
to please poet or fisherman. And it
was a picturesque little body in the
wood that Angelica looked, the wind
tossing her hat half off, her glowing
her great shock of light brown curls
blowing all ways at once as she leaned
over the edge of the bank to gaze into
the seething torrent below, and Won
dered, meanwhile, whether pond-lilies
grew in that sort of water. just then
the wind slapped her skirt round a
young walnut sapling. Vexed with the
rudeness, she slapped it back again; she
lost her balance as she did it, and over
she went with cry.
Poor little Angelica! How many
thoughts there are in a second! Her
first thought was: "lt's the end of me;
I'm being torn to pieces on those
rocksr' Her second one was: go,
what will grandma do without me
now?'' The third one ran: ''AndTve
been so bad about Mr. Wilston, and
he'll be so sorry for his little Angelica;
and | pushed Tommy yesterday; and
once 1 told grandma a lie" And
then there was wild whirl of horror of
sharp rocks and drowning whirlpools,
and great CULTS of death and oblivion.
When the little body came to herself
mid-air, in cradle made by the wild
plum bushes and the old horse-brier and
grape-vines that had interlaced them
selves together there, growing from the
crevices. Above her was more than
twenty feet of almost sheer rock, and
below her was the boiling river, rushing
and roaring on. With a start of terror,
as memory swept back upon her she
seized stout stem of the vine and
clutched it with all her might; but gust
of wind coming at the moment, and
rocking the cradle well, assured her
that her clinging amounted to little, and
she presently found the thousand and
one briers of the wild smilax holding
her more securely than it was possible
her tiny fingers should.
Before long she was able to gather
her senses from their trance of horror,
in which all reason had been dissipated,
and she loosened her dress, and sat up
in her nest to look about her. "It's of
no use,' she said at last. 1.-The only
way to get down is to free a, grapevine
and climb down on it; and it wouldn't
be long enough, and it wouldn't be
strong enough, and if l got down at all,
it would only be into boiling pit of
deep water, and in freeing it might be
like the man who sawed off the end of
the branch he sat on-if could free it
anyway. And might as well die of
starvation and be picked by the birds,
as die of drowning and be picked by the
fishes. But. oh. dear! dear! dear! what
are they doing at home nowP Why
can't some of them come after me?
Why doesn't Mr.. Wilston know how
horribly hang here between heaven
and earth? Why doesn't somebody
follow mep o, what have done, what
have I done, to be punished this way?
0, you don't suppose am really going
to be left to die here! O, how cruel!
how cruelr' And then there was great
burst of sobbing, and she wrung her
hands, and cried again.
But the crying over, for the time be-
ing, Angelica began to look about her.
The blow had been struck too power
fully to do much less than stun
and she yet hardly realized her situa-
ton in full. 81 dom quite give it up
she said. Somebody may come this
ways" and she hallooed till she was out
of breath. cit wouldn't be bad
place for pleasure she thought, g if
one could get down or up when one
wished. and if one had plenty of books
and lunch basket. o, how hungry
amp Certainly it was not at all a bad
place of its sort-swinging Graded there
securely in mid-air, with the birds dart
ing all about one; with the great sky
full of sunshine overhead; with that
fish-hawk sailing in slow circles ere he
plunged. "This is the way some of
the Puget Sound Indians bury their
dead" She thought, :. high up among
the branches. Only they have tin pans
hung with them. And that does so put
me in mind of our Morals cream-the
very last pan she let me skim. And
now I'm hungrier than ever. l wonder
what time it is-long past lunch, of
course. I'm hollow now; shall be
famished by dinner-time; tomorrow
morning I shall be giddy. I wonder
how long it takes people to die of star
walton, and if it's very fearful. I mustn't
think about broths and haricots and
stews and chicken pies and" And
Angelica paused, holding this unprofit-
able meditation for one about to die.
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