Morning journal and courier., 1894-06-02
the shore edge beneath crsg upon which

the shore edge beneath 6 crsg upon which the ancient village stood. Far up tho stream, where the river seemed like c mountain-rimmed Highland loch, . putting and trailing of smoke which had for little time been just discernable, gradually drew near enough to disclose the outlines of Hudson river canal-boat tow. Perhaps an hundred boats, laden almost to the water's edge, lashed together In pairs, and picturesque in all the home-keeping l of the half Q thousand souls | who lived the lazy canalers' lives upon | them, were thus, as is true each summer | day of the year, being guided and tugged | at by powerful steamer, from the city of Troy down the mighty river to the sea. In the gathering shadows the sinuous trailing macs looked to the sisters like nsared them the two embraced, and the elder girl, attired as for journey, stepped lightly into an old canoe. The younger sister, bareheaded and barefooted, fol. lowed. With light, even strokes, she sent the frail craft forward and downstream, as if to come athwart the "tow" abreast and below where they had embarked.
 "We'u wait until we can pick out one with good, motherly looking old woman on board," said Sis at the paddle. ''There's much in starting right in any venture"
 "fhat's right. And now, dear, remem- bex these things: We'll write each other at least twice each week."
 ''Sure."
 "If anything happens to Uncle Peter, or if don't succeed, I will return to Sohonk at once."
 "Sure."
 "Nsd Watson Is to never know of my whereabouts; and to all questions about my disappearance you are simply to say that am studying among friends in New York"
 "Sure, sure."
 "I am to send you everything can get, upon art, to help you in your sketohing famous and fine like the young ladies at the hotel, by and by; or at least get along so as to buy the dear old place at Sohonk, when Uncle Peter is gone."
 "Perhsps, Sister. Bat there's 8 dear old face in that checked sunbonnet, peep ing over that cabin hatchway at us. I'll bring the canoe alongside that canaI-boat. Here we arei Careful now. know you'll succeed. God bless you, my only own Sister dearl-Good-by -bye!"
 In an instant the elder girl had flung little package upon the csnalboat's deck and leaped after it. Turning. she i'm petu- ously tossed kiss after kiss back toward the bareheaded girl in the canoe, who for a moment balanced her little craft in the gentle swash of the "tow," whsn she sud denly changed her course and was at once lost from sight astern in the darkness set- tling swiftly upon the river between the lofty erags.
 When the venturescme girl again looked upon the 'tdear old face in the checked sunbonnet," the latter had assumed an ex- pression half of delighted surprise and half of astounded fright.
 There were mists in the eyes of the elder | postmistress of Sohonk; and perhaps these accounted for flood of strange and over | powering recollections. The name of the canal boat, "The Ranger" danced before her eyes like a flaming beacon from out ] the dim and shadowy past. The kindly perplexed facs before her; the enorting of the laboring tug; the strange scene of the floating village upon the stream; the weird mountains on either side; even the tiny light flashing up the companion way from the cabin; swept into her memory along baby sister, dreamful eyed, loving fath- CT, host of long forgotten childhood wraiths from the lands of pain and peace; all inteneified by the pent up emotions of l this one eventful day; until, as her hands l were outstretched appealingly to the wo. man in the hstchwsy, she fell unconscious l prone in her stout and motherly arms.
 When next she heard voices, they came as If from afar through delicious dream land of rest and peace, as she lay upon one | of the little cabin bunks. A kindly faced old woman was bathing her head in cam phor, and the horny palms of a shaggy headed old man were chsfing her hands in rude and unaffected yigor and tender | ness.
 "Pop Tillmanl" 1" said the old lady solemn ly, eff th.s un, an tn un as slid astern 1T tn little canoe, aint ghoetessss, they're flesh an blood darters Of that Doctor Mer csr, as went with us an his children t' th Cstskills, an never come back fur hi' valtse."
 Fudge on ghostessegs" responded tht husband grimIy. "Spo'sen they bs th Doctors dsrters? Jess keer far this un Land her in York. Gin her th' vsllse; an don't bother furder All you winner folks seems t jumpst ennything m ysteri'ui quicker nor hungry tow path mule t fodder! She's come to, Don't let her gt off agin, Jerushy."
 With this the wise old captain of "Th' Ranger" took his pipe and went on dacA for bit of promenade in the balmy even ing air.
 His wife with "Poor, poor dear'. ani commisersting look at the little figure upon the bunk, went straightWsy to tht locker and securing 6 moldy old valis, brought it back and set 1t down with soms decision upon the cabin table.
 What's yer name, deariea" she sooth ingly inquired, as she supported the gtr with her stout and freckled arm.
 ''Sister Van Bruut."
 'No taint, nuther," retorted the woman lifting her up in her lap before the table 1 hor o1x,c year ago this month! Whar was yer little baby sister9 Whar was yer nice, purtJ father, tn doctola Whar was 'Tht RangerY Whar was me an my old man An Whar was this valise as I've kep' thest long years, peerin' in faces from Buffalel lt' York, for tn rightful owner, an mournin' fur you two mites. as though Jersuhy Tillnan gin ye both life from hel l own breasts"
 Here the good woman rocked back and forth, batting, kissing and caressing the wsnderer as though she had recovered her own long lost child.
 Yer name aint no Sister Van Brnnt dearie. Yer pame's Victoria Mercer. an yer sister, thar,-I know'd her, whatever smart men folks sezl-is Alice Mercer; an If these op musty papers an things se2 1 what's true, If yer poor fathers dead, ye ought ter own more land long tn Hudson, than tow can saii past in hours!"
 What heed to repeat the questions and answers which followed; to depict the joy of the girl in ths new light and life that had so suddenly dswned upon her; the revelation of her past and of her plans, hopes and purposes to the sympathetic woman beside her: the kindly, motherly promises of aid when they should have 1 reached the great city; or the forgtvab1e tauntings for the victory of female in stinct and wisdom over the ruder male conclusions, bestowed by Jerushy Till man upon her shaggy, good -natured hus- band; as she consigned him to loneliness in the little cabin for ths night, and made the snuggest of beds for herself and the wanderer bsneath the ragged old tarpaulIn l above?
 Then, as the night set low and deep upon 1 mountain and stream and the stars famed in the arc above, the girl, lying upon the protecting arm of the elder woman. with throbbing brain but peaceful heart, thought and thought and listened; thought of the myriad things happy and sad out of the strange, weird past, of myriad possibili- ties in the untried future before her; ard listened, listened drowsily and more drow- silly to the complaining creeking of the of the monster which drew them, from whose flaming nostrils now and then great plumes of fire trailed backward and above; to the lszy Tapping of ghostly passing sails l as though Hendrick Hudsen, in one of his twenty year visi!s, were speeding by in some specter Half Moon; to the paying of alert