The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1896-06-27
CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER II.
When the river receded into it's prop
er channel, the Schiller was ten miles
from navigable water. Gottlieb pur-
chased the little field on which his boat
had stuck, together with a small tract
of adjoining land, and decided to raise
cotton and corn. He hired party OF
men and dug under the Schiller until
she had been sunken into large exca-
walton. Then at the cost of great labor
and perseverance he had water hauled
in barrels and poured into the excava-
tion. Again the magnificent steamer
was afioat, but had to content herself
within only a few inches of play. One
of the crew, an engineer, had been re-
tanned, and nearly every evening after
his work in the field was done for the
day he would raise steam and set the
ponderous machinery in motion. Mrs.
Langbuerger soon became interested in
raising chickens, and every night she
carefully housed her brood on board. In
addition to agriculture Gottlieb estab-
lished school. He experienced no trou-
BILE in procuring scholars, for every boy
and girl in the neighborhood was
charmed with the idea of going to
school on a boat. The captain not only
taught the ordinary branches, but in
structed the boys in the art Of river nav
igation, a highly interesting feature,
for nearly every boy who lives near a
navigable river entertains an aspiring
hope that ne will one day be a steam
boatman. Among the scholars was a
bright boy, Henry Rusworm. The cap
tain conceived such friendship for the
lad, partly due to the fact that he was
an orphan, that he adopted the child.
There was, though, tender affection
awaiting the lad, for as the years crept
along little Ida, Gottlieb's daughter,
learned to love him. Her love was not
i'll bestowed, for Henry worshiped her
with that intense ardor which steals in
to boys life at an early age.
The years kept rolling on, as indeed
they should, for no man Of sense could
have expected halt Of time simply be-
cause steamboat had run aground.
The Schiller was kept in excellent re-
pair. Every year she was freshly paint
ed, and every unsound piece of wood
was replaced with befitting material.
One Sunday when the captain and
his wife had gone to church Ida went
up into the pilothouse, where Henry
sat at the wheel. They had both arrived
at the shy age, and, at times, through
very excess of love, avoided each other.
II didn't know you were here" said
Ida, blushing.
IF you had known it, you wouldn't
have come up, would your
eyes, I would have come, but
wouldn' have come so soon. !"
"You would have come sooner if you
had thought Web Jones had been here"
meaning a boy whom Henry knew she
disliked
'No, wouldn't either
"You like him better than anybody,
anyway"
"You know I DON'T" her eyes beam
ing with tenderness.
''Then whom do you like better?"
Somebody. Law, look at that bird
on the JackS6aH!
"Never mind the bird"
''He's gone now"
care you quite sure you saw a bird?"
why shouldn't I be?''
II don't know. see bird any time
when I look at you.
"I'm not a bird. I can't fly
Eyes. you can. You have. You have
flown into my soul and fluttered against
my heart" She looked down and toyed
with tassel that hung from a rich
cord around her waist tDon't you
know that worship your
"No, for you avoid me.
sYou avoid me- -
"Don' you know why?"
eyes, 'and he caught her in his arms
What glorious day it was for them.
How many little words Of sweet moth
ingness passed between them as they sat