The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1882-03-27

stick, doubtless torn by the angry waters
from some bridge far up the country. LII
that could be cut the blockade would be
broken, and ice would no longer clog the
stream, and the mills would be saved.
For moment silence fell upon. all; then,
suddenly, Mr.. Watterson's voice, hoarse ana
thin, rang out above the noise OF Inc STORM
and the war of the waters. =,
"a thousand dollars to the man who VIII
cut that timberW
The women in the little group looked at
each other and shuddered; the men liked
their eyes upon the dam; but no one replied.
The roar of the angry stream Increased and
the waters deepened beneath the mill walls.
''Two thousand dollarsP'
The proprietor's voice was hoarser than
before: but the women closed their lips firm
" and shook their heads. The men moved
a little uneasily, and one drew his hand
across bis mouth, as if he would have spok-
en- but still no one replied, and the white
foam from the imprisoned river was tossed
by the wind against the lower windows OF
the mills, while the corners of the buildings
were already beginning to crumble and
waste away before the grinding ice.
"Three thou"
81 will CO."
The two voices sounded so closely togetn,
er that it was not until the crowd turned
answered, that they fairly understood the
reply. -
Running from the third-story window OF
the lower mill directly across the river, above
the dam. was long, endless chain used to
convey power from the mighty water-wheel
of the mills to the machinery of little box
factory located upon the opposite bluff This
chain was at rest now, and there appeared
at the window near it the figure of boy in
-sr,fs r,h
He it was who had said, 81 will CO."
When the people saw him and realized
what he was about to attempt flor already
he had fastened rope around his body and
was passing the other end over the chain,
evidently with the intention of sliding along
the same until he found a point from which
he could lower himself within reach OF the
TIMBER, when they realized this great
murmur went up from the crowd, and the
women cried out in terror, while many
turned to Mr.. Watterson and urged him to
order the boy back.
0Who is he?'' said the proprietor, in
dazed manner.
s.Its Jerry, sir, the bobbin-boy," said a
man. stepping forward. IAN orphan, sir,
an strivin' to care for his sick sister"
"Jerry Is it Jerry?" cried Mr.. Watterson,
turning quickly. "Then he shall not co."
and he waved his hand toward the window,
and shouted. no DdVk! UdChs
But already it was too late, for, with
little cry. the boy dropped from his perch
and hung swinging above the roaring,
grinding ice, the rope which supported him
Sliding slowly downward along the chain
toward the center of the dam. The
breathless crowd, the terror-stricken
proprietor, could only watch and wait now.
Slowly and unevenly the looped rope from
which Jerry was suspended slipped, link by
link, down the sagging chains: slowly bis
feet neared the great mass OF ragged ice be-
meath. At length, when he was directly ov-
err The center of the dam, and just above the
long beam which held the jam, allowing the
rope to slide quickly through his hands, he
dropped lightly upon the timber he had
come to cut.
At the sight, the sympathetic crowd broke
| into wild cheer, both men and women;
| but jerry wasted no time listening. A mo-
| ment, half moment lost might mean des-
| truction to the mills, and before the echo OF
the shouting had ceased he was plying. bis
axe with vigorous strokes, that rang sharp
and clear above the voice OF crumbling ice
and gathering waters.
1t was not long task. The strain upon
the timber already was enormous, and ere
the lad had dealt half a score of blows, an
ominous cracking sound warned him that
his errand was accomplished, and that he
must be gone.
Dropping the axe, he turned, seized the
dangling rope, and began to climb toward
the chain above, when, with shock like
the report of cannon, the beam gave way,
and in an instant, in the twinkling of an eye,
the air was filled with a horrible roaring,
as the imprisoned waters burst the bonds
which had confined them, and in one impet-
uous, boiling food rushed over the dam, tos-
sing the great cakes of ice that had formed
the barrier high on the frothing waves-so
high that they hid from sight the form OF
poor Jerry and there went up from all the
people a single cry: "The boy is lost"
But the jam was broken! The mills were
saved
And Jerry was saved too! Bruised and
stunned and bleeding, hanging half insensi-
BILE above the black waters that swept with
a swift curve toward the fall, when the ice
that had buffeted him had passed away, the
watchers saw that the boy still lived; and,
quicker than it can be told, boat was pro-
cured and manned, a long line made fast to
it, and, dropping down the stream until they
were close to him, tender hands were up
raised, loving voices called, and with long,
sobbing cry, the little hero lOosed his grasp
upon the rope which held him and dropped
fainting into the waiting arms below.
To-day the great mills stand by the rivers
brink. and the rumble of their machinery
is heard all day long, as of yore; but it does
not reach the ears of the "bobbin-boy," nor
vet those of Sister Nellie. For the one is at
college and the other at school,, both foster
children of that most pleasant of old bach
elors, the proprietor himself; and it is only
at vacation time now, when his days are
frightened by the presence of both his
loved ones. that Mr.. Watterson's memory
turns back to that spring time, long gone
gratitude, risked his life to save the mills