Alpena argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1893-1909, 1893-05-17
MY UNCLEs FROG POND.

ly know how it happened, but the
numbering stage-coach which had
taken me from Upton, where left
the cars, had run against stump
on the uphill side of the road and
tilted over, throwing me against
the door, which article treacherous-
ly opened, and out | went into the
mud and mire.
Nevertheless, | fell feet foremost,
but with such force that | settled
more than ankle deep in the mud,
and all efforts to extricate myself
proved unavailing. At last | sat
plump down in the water and mud,
and yielded to my fate, not with a
very good grace, however, for |
looked daggers at the innocent
frogs as they spun swiftly from the
water on all sides, in their terror of
such harum-scarum object as had
invaded their precincts.
My back was toward the coach,
and | dared not look around for
fear of topping over backward. |
was determined | would not call for
help if never got out; so there |
sat, biting my lips with vexation,
for my beautiful green travelling
dress was ruined with slime and
mud, and could feel the dirty
water dripping down over my face
and shoulders from my delicate and
costly French hat. Added to my
other mishaps, came the conscious
ness that was sadly neglected by
my companion of the stage, tall,
handsome gentleman, possibly thir-
ty years of age, with noble, clas-
steal brow, and eyes that gazed
serenely and calmly up from their
depths, and voice so unsteady
rich that | had kept him in CONVEX
sation all the way from Upton, for
the sake of listening to its melody
and gazing into his intellectual
face. | was in love, deeply, per-
manently. In love with stranger.
Our conversation was broken off
most unceremoniously when my
head came in contact with the
coach door. This was what vexed
me, to think that he had left me
sitting there so long. My great
love was evaporating; and when !
heard the low laugh that followed
the coachman's exclamation of
"There she is, now, in the middle
of the pond!' was really angry.
He was certainly laughing at my
misfortune.
"Please to let me be, sir, | don't
wish for your assistance" said,
angerly, as | felt pair of strong
arms around my waist and warm
breath on my cheek. "Let the
coachman assist me-" But the
arms were clasped more tightly
about ME, and l felt myself drawn
slowly from the mud. Vexed and
mortified, struggled to free myself
but in vain. At last | stood OH the
hard ground, dripping and cold.
"Sir, unhand me instantly"
said, as | felt my feet on terra firma.
The hands were instantly unclasp-
ed, and a pair of dark eyes gazed
sadly at me.
Maggie, what have done to
merit this"
| was astounded. How could he,
a stranger know my name? Mag
gle Martain stood before him, sure
enough; but who was he? |
looked at him again, but was still
at fault.
"Who are you, sir?" | cried. ~
never saw you before"
Never mind now, Miss Martain.
We shall meet again"
When the stage stopped in front
of my uncle's house, and this time
dumped me out into the arms of
my aunt and cousins, | was as much
at loss as ever.
Mag, cousin Mag, we are so glad
you've come" and Lottie and kittie
grasped ME and drew me up to their
room. | made suitable apologies
for my uncouth appearance, and
told Lottie and Kit in confidence of
my new acquaintance.
We talked that night till the
small hours crept on us unawares,
and our lips began to droop.
"You remember Phil Sanders,
Mag?" Lottie asked, abruptly.
"kind-hearted PHILIP"
"Phil Sanders? Certainly
Don't you know we used to be