Waterbury Democrat., 1901-01-10
re as the end 6. ss:sss .os wua1a arrow

one rose W1GQOuL 8 WOTQ, auQ rO1l6Q the log well within the warmth of the blaze. She resumed her seat, and the trelight f1ickered and played over her face. tinting her cheeks with deep red and spangling her bronze gold hair with patches of scarlet and crimson. The little red cap had been pulled se- curely down on her head, and, sitting there in the alternate light and dark ness, her figure 1.-the and strong, she looked like some Saxon wood nymph.
 But I did not cease my good deeds. l call myself 8 forethoughtful trooper, and from the saddlebags carried across my saddle bow took cold chicken, Q piece of cold boiled ham and some hard biscuits, dinner fit for prince, or rather an honest American citizen, which was better, in these hard times of war. To this royal collection added . canteen we'll filled with water, re- 1nembered tho stout little flask in my breast pocket, and the repast was con- plete, all but the serving. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of the good things. Wood nynphs, Saxon or other, must eat.
 ''Let me carve the chicken" she said
 "You have neither 8 table, plates nor knife" I said
 ''This log will serve as a table, some of those clean dry leaves as plates, and you could lend me knife'
 "How could I lend you a knife, weapon, after all the tricks you have tried to play upon me? You don't forget this, do you?"
 l took the little toy pistol with which she had tried to shoot me out of my pocket and held it up before her, but she laughed. Women don't seem to have any conscience, or at least they forget their crimes, which is convenient for their peace of mind.
 "Give me the knife,'' she said, "and don't waste time. I'm hungry.''
 distrusted her as much as ever, even more, but I opened the blade of my clasp knife and handed it to her.
 "A very good knife," she said, "but have no doubt it was stolen from an Englishman. An, here it is-the name of an English maker on the bladep'
 'tIt was not stolen!" exclaimed in- dignantly. II took it from him fairly at the battle of Monmouth, where he fell into my hands. ''
 ''That, I suppose, is good enough title for rebel,' she said and began to carve the chicken.
 It was fine, fat chicken, beautifully roasted, and she showed that she knew how to carve, for she deftly clipped of leg, which she held up before me.
 "That looks fat and good to eat," she said, land it's fine chicken, but I've no doubt it was stolen from loyal sub- ject of King George.''
 "It's not true!" exclaimed in some wrath. "He was Tory farmer, admit, but did not steal the chicken. I.took it before his eyes, and he never said a word.'' .aC
 Afraid, suppose, but it doesn't make any difference to you. It will taste just as good to a rebel. Here, take your piece on this big, clean leaf and eat. ''
 took the piece and ate. She carved off portion for herself, too, and ate with a good appetite. Then I handed her the canteen of water and told her to l take drink. -s
 "Don't be afraid,'' said. ''I took that water out of clear brook in the wilderness, and the land through which it flowed belonged to God, not to any | Englishman or Tory.''
 "But how about the canteen?' she asked. "Did you steal that from any English soldier or take it by violence, which is worse?''
 showed her the name of the maker, Boston man, upon it.
 "A vile rebel town, the worst of them all,' she said.
 But she took good drink out of it, and when she handed it back to me initiated her example. Then, while the fire cracked and blazed higher and the circle of light widened and the darkness beyond it thickened, we ate and drank, and grew cheerful had defeated all her attempts, and tomorrow l would find Morgan and give her into other hands and be rid of all my troubles, yet was compelled to admit once again that she was very beautiful with the freight f1ickering and playing over her face and hair, but all the world knows, as have said, that the handsome wom- en are the most dangerous, the most cunning, and was on my guard against any new attempt of hers to escape. Still. when I looked around at the blackness of the night and heard the sigh of the cold wind above the crac- king of the fire, I did not think that she would dare to attempt it. l knew no woman who would venture alone on a winter night into that uncanny wilder ness, and, knowing it, felt easy.