The record-union., 1894-06-02

a thousand souls who lived the lazy ca
nalers 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 mass looked to the sisters like
some monstrous thing OF life. AS it
neared them the two embraced and the
elder girl. attired as for journey, stepped
lightly into an old canoe. The younger
| sister, bareheaded and barefootsd, fol-
lowed. With light, even strokes she
sent the frail craft forward and down
stream as if to come athwart the tow
abreast and below where they had en-
barked
"We'll wait until we can pick out one
with good, motherly-looking woman
on board,' said Sis at the paddle.
There's much in starting right in any
venture"
THAT'S right. And now, dear, re-
other at least twice each week."
'Su!e."
IF anything happens to Uncle Peter,
or II L don't succeed. [ will return to So
honk at once.'
''Suren
Ned 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"
And l am to send you everything
can, upon art, te help you in your sketch
Ing and painting. Perhaps we may be-
come 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 Sohonll when Uncle Peter is gone"
1 Icfn t,t D. a 1oD
old face III that checked sunbonnet peep
ing over that cabin hatchway at us. Pll
bring the canoe alongside that canalboat.
Here we are. Careful now. | know
you'll su ucceed. God bless you, my only
own Sister dear. Good byp'
In an instant the elder girl had flung
a little package upon the canalboat's S
deck and leaped after it. Turning, she
impetuously tossed kiss after kiss back
toward the bareheaded girl in the canoe,
who, for moment, balanced her little
craft 10 the gentle swash of the tow
when she suddenly changed her course
and was at once lost from sight astern in
the darkness settling swiftly upon the
river between the lofty crags
When the venturesOme girl again
looked upon the 'dear old lace in the
checked sunbonnet." the latter had as
sumed an expression half of delighted
surprise and half of astounded fright.
There were mists in the eyes of the
elder Postmistress of Sohonk, and per-
haps these accounted for a flood of strange
and overpowering recollections. The
name of the canalboat, "The Ranger"
danced before her eyes like a flaming
! beacon from out the dim and shadowy
past. The kindly perpleXed face before
! her, the snortlng 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 with the ghostly
| form and presence of a baby sister, q
dreamful-eyed, loving father, host of
| long forgotten childhood wraiths from
the lands of pain and peace, all intensi-
| fed by The pentup emotions of this one
eventful day, until, as her hands were
outstretched appealingly TO the woman
in the hatchway, she fell unconscious
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 hunks. A kindly
faced old woman was bathing her head in
camphor, and the horny palms of a
shaggy headed old man were chatting
her hands in rude and unaffected vigor
and tenderness.
"Pop Tillman," said the old lady SOL
emnly, ''if this un an th' un as slid
astern in th' little canoe amt ghostesses.
they're flesh an blood darters of that
Doctor Mercer, as went with US an his
children t. th' Catskills. an as never
come back for his valise."
'Fudge on ghostesses.o responded the
husband grimly. 'Spo'sen they be th'
Doctors darters? Jess keer fur this
un. Land her in York. Gin her tn va
lise, an don't bother furder. All you
30llr
thing mysterious quicker nor hungry
towpath mule t. fodder. She's come to.
Don't let her go off agin, Jerushy."
With this the wise old Captain of "The
Ranger took his pipe and went on deck
for a bit of promenade in the balmy
evening air.
His wife, with a "Poor, poor dear" and
commiserating look at the little figure
upon the bunk, went straightway to the
locker and securing moldly old valise
brought il back and set it down with
some decision upon the cabin table.
Whats yer name, dearie?" she sooth-
ingly inquired, as she supported the girl
with her stout and freckled arm.
''Sister Van Brunt."
mo tain't, ,nuther," retorted the woman
lifting her up in her lap before the table.
year ago this month? Whar was yer lit
tie baby sister? Whar was yer nice
purity father, th' Doctor? Whar was
'The Ranger?' Whar was me an my old
man? An whar was this valise as I've
KEEP these long years, peerin' in faces
from Butfaler T. York, for th' rightful
owner, an mournin fur you two mites,
as though Jersuhy Tillman gin ye both
life from her own breast?"
Here the good woman rocked back and
forth patting, kissing and caressing the
wanderdr as though she had recovered
her own long, lost child.
''Yer name amt no Sister Van Brunt,
dearie. Yer names Victoria Mercer, an
yer sister, thar know'd her, whatever
smart men folks sez-is Alice Mercer,
am if these oP musty papers an things
sez what's true. If yer poor fathers dead,
ye ought ter own more land 'long th'
Hudson than tow can sail past in
hours!'
What need to repeat the questions and
answers which followed; to depict the Joy
of the girl in the new light and life that
had so suddenly dawhed upon her; the
revelation of her past and of her plans,
hopes and purposes to the sympathetic
woman beside her; the kindly, mothelyr
promises of aid when they should have
reached the great city; or the forgiva bic
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 the night and made
the snuggest of beds for herself and the
wanderer beneath the ragged old tarpau-
| lin above?
Then, as the night set low and deep
upon 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 peace
full heart, thought and thought and list
ened; thought OF the myriad things happy
and sad out of the strange, weird past, of
a myriad possibilities in the untried fu-
ture before her, and listened, listened,
drowsiiy and more 0rowsily to the COM