The Arkansaw traveler., 1888-02-04

always kissed her however young one may be, one has habits.
 I wiped the water from her neck, and when she was dry again, she said to me smiling:
 "You are darling"
 think that kissed her. This put her in fine humor, so that we danced on over the ferns, she leaning on my arm; then suddenly, as we re-entered the sonorous silence of the old forest, she began to sing, to the air of the Marseillaise
 March on, wicked little man
 Who does not love his little wife,
 Not at all, at all, at all,
 At tall, at all. She said this with such little swag- ger, marching with long steps, show ing her pretty white teeth, and press ing my arm so tenderly that I began to sing with her.
 We were children, conscious that we were, playing together, and know ing that we did well.
 Suddenly we stopped before bog, a drained pond, tangled swamp. don't know why, but there the sun did not seem to shine, the trees looked stunted, and ugly roots twisted them selves among the thorns and bram- bles.
 "You don't think we are lost2" said Louise, looking at me. a
 "Why, no, my dear"
 "And if we were lost, what would he say tomorrow, poor baby sleeping in his cradle? Shall we go back, say? Shall we go back2"
 "We are only twenty minutes away from home, not more."
 ''Yes, yes, every one who gets lost in the woods imagines that he is only twenty minutes away from home. don't like these twisted trees. What horrid creatures may be among the roots?"
 She shivered, and, bending forward to listen, said: "Stop, do you hear? Don't you hear that hollow sound? Hush-listen, listen-it is hollow, hollow! At this hour, in the forest, what can it be? The sun is setting : let us go back"
 l listened and heard hollow sound the cause of which knew at once. should have told her the cause at once: but it was so pleasant to see her there near me, serious, eagerly listening, with half-parted lips, her eyes ques- tloning mine; was SO happy to feel her tremble on my breast, seeking her refuge in me, that like an egotist, I soberly replied:
 "Yes, really it is strangel I hear hollow sounds. Let us go and see it cannot be far away"
 "Go! Are you crazy, George, my dearl"
 She threw her arms around me, and lifting herself to my ear:
 "I am afraid" she whispered. "Let us go back, please, let us go back"
 "How frightened you are! Don't you recognize the sound of the wood- splitter's mallet?"
 "Do you think that you can soothe me with your wood-splitters? What do they split, these splitters?"
 "They are splitting logs of wood to make barrel slaves. That is the mys- tery."
 "You are very sure."
 "Yes, my dear."
 "And they are good men, these wood-splitters?"
 "These are, certainly; know them very well. Come and see them; they are not more than three minutes from here."
 She decided to follow me, though not without tagging behind little. Some minutes later we found our selves Tn a most picturesque place, facing two or three cabins as primi tive as the Indian huts ono reads about in Coopers novels. Imagine a heap of logs and boards, black with age and covered with moss, somber and wet in the dark forest, and surmounted by a white chimney from which rose a light column of blue smoke, to lose itself in the green vault above. Around this encampment were piles of logs, mountains of chips, pyramids of vel low boards, and, on a cord stretched from one tree to another, some clothes hung out to dry. The ground was beaten down around these huts, and before small low door some dozen of fowls were picking up the grain thrown them by an old woman.
 "Good evening"" said the old woman, seeing us approach. "Won't you come in and warm yourselves 8 bit? It is fresh tonight"
 Louise looked at it all as one looks at successful painting. We entered. The interior was worthy of the exte- rior. In the middle of an irregular cabin, full of corners and recesses, a bright fire was burning on the ground between four bars of iron, which kept the firebrands in place and marked the hearth. flames rose high; the roof was open in the middle, like the im- pluvium of Roman h0nse and ho-