Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1898-06-11
Take yonder canoe and 80 to the

Take yonder canoe and 50 to the
rescue"
Janet would have rushed to the res.
cue herself had not strong arms held
her back. Weak, moaning, almost
fainting, the girl pleaded in vain.
"No use; q boat would 60 over in a
jify. Them fellers can't be saved"
"There is one chance in a hun
dred."
A low voice uttered the words, and
Janet saw a slender form glide past
toward small Indian canoe that
rested on the bank. About the man s
arm was u coil of rope. When the
man gained the foaming edge of the
water he swung his arm aloft aud
cried:
"Some of you take an end Of this
rope. l am going to rescue those
men If possible"
Goodness! it's the little bookkeep-
err"
Hell drown, sure"
But Mark Farnham needed not the
comments of the crowd. He seemed
to realize that time was precious, and
at once pushed the light ashen canoe
into the river. Seizlng the paddle,
and fixing his rope so that it would
pay out from between his thin knees,
the little bookkeeper began padding
up the stream. Strong hands had
grasped the end of the rope and it be-
gan paying out rapidly, when Farm
ham turned and shot swiftly into the
center of the stream.
He managed 50 that the canoe came
down on the upper side of the swaying
jam. Instantly the canoe was sucked
under and lost, but Farnham sprang
to the surface of the logs, rope in
hand, and quickly made one end fast
to an upright log.
"Quick, Mr.. Lyon There's no
time to lose"
The mill-owner demonstrated, and
urged the bookkeeper to go ahead;
this he absolutely refused to do.
Mr.. Lyon went forward, grasped
the rope and passed, hand over hand,
to the shore. A great shout went up
when he landed.
Next came Dick Wellington. He
was heavy, and the rope sagged badly.
Farnham felt the jam tremble at each
surge of the foreman's body. Sud
denly the log to which the rope was
attached gave way and fell. Instant
ly the rope flew far out into the
stream. Dick was near the shore and
was rescued.
The little bookkeeper stood alone
on the jam, which was now trembling
and threatening to fall to pieces.
Farnham's face blanched. He seemed
to realize that he was doomed.
"Another canoe, quick! Go back,
Dick Wellington, and save Mr..
Farnham!'
1t was Janet who spoke, but the
dripping Apollo turned away with a
shudder.
"Not for farm would risk my life
ont yonder again"
He was not called upon to do so.
A great crash and roar sickened the
crowd on shore. The jam. with its
lone occupant, had disappeared!
"The man is past all earthly help"
1t was DR.. Gould who uttered the
words as he rose from contemplating
the battered, bleeding form on the
sand.
From below the dam the little book
keeper had been dragged from the
river, bleeding and insensible. He
lay at the feet of Janet Lyon, who
bent with streaming eyes above the
dripping body.
"Speak to me, Mark, speak, :"
moaned the belle. The white lids UNI
closed and pair of blue eyes looked
into the face OF the kneeling girl. A
smile touched the purple lips.
81 saved him Dick Wellington? I
knew you loved him; it was for your
sake, Janet. know you will forgive
me for being coward now"
ooh, Mark! Mark"
A faint tremor moved his frame as
the girl attempted to raise the little
bookkeeper's head. A moment later
she held dead weight in her arms.
The great soul of Mark Farnham had
gone from the small body forever.
Oxbow did itself proud at the fu-
neral of the little bookkeeper, and one
genuine mourner there was, at least,
the belle of the Muskegon. When
Dick Wellington asked for her hand
two months later, he met with cold
refusal. Some people wondered why
Janet Lyon never married. Does the
reader wonder?-New York News.