The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1880-05-27

3
tending into shadow, and on the other
huge moss-groWn bowI1crs and thornv
thicketS lining the bank, where, some
eighty feet below, the river went brawl-
ing along over rapids and falls in a way
to please a 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
cheeks, her sparkling brown eyes, and
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 a 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: "AndPve
| been so bad about Mr.. WilstOn, and
he Ii be so sorry for his little Angelica;
and l pushed Tommy yesterday; and
once told grandma a lie" And
then there was a wild whirl of horror of
sharp rocks and drowning whirlpools,
and great CULTS of death and oblivion.
When the little body came to herself
she was lying comfortably suspended in
] i ,YV l., 10 H. no
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 a stout stem of the vine and
clutched it with all her might; but a 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 smilaN holding
her more securely than it was possible
her tiny fingers should.
Before long she was able to gather
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. 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 | got down at all,
it would only be into a 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! deari dear! what
are they doing at home now? Why
cant 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 me? o, what have ! done, what
have l done, to be punished this way?
O, you don't suppose | am really going
to be left to die here! 0, how cruel!
how crueln' 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. Il don't quite give it up"
she said. Somebody may come this
way;" and she hallooed till she was out |
of breath. cit wouldn't be a bad |
place for pleasure" she thought, |" if |
one could get down or up when one |
wished, and if one had plenty of books
and a lunch basket. O, how hungry |
amn' Certainly it was not at all bad .
place of its sort-swingipg 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. | wonder |
what time it is-long past lunch, of
course. I'm hollow now; | shall be
famished by dinner-time; tomorrow
morning L shall be giddy. wonder
how long it takes people to die of star
walton, and if it's very fearful. mustn't
think about brOthS and haricOts and
stcws and chicken pies and" And
Angelica paused, holding this unprofit-
able meditation for one about to die.
." | ought to be reading my Testament"
said she. "And yet the only thing I
should enjoy reading Just now would
be a cookery book. o, l didn't know |
was such a glutton! l suppose in my
heart of hearts | am sure that Mr., Will
ston will come after me-"
1t was in the pause of thought follow
inc that she heard voices-a myriad, it
seemed to her. She had shouted from
time to time ever since she fell; now
she raised her voice again, and she
couldn't make out whether it was the
children answering her or a flight of
echoes from the opposite rock. No, it
was the children, she at length was
sure. Yes, yes, indeed, there were the !
little faces peering over the brink.
through the stems of the saplings-faces
of those very children at whose paper
garlands she had laughed; and she called
out Justify again-called and called,
with furied and half-frenzied cries. till
her voice refused to come for more
Plainly as she could see them, looking
Up, the children could not see herfor the
interlacing and protruding vines and
branches. But they could hear her all
too well-a viewleSs voice; it reused all
their little imaginationS, and they scam
pered away as fast as their feet could
Il -