The Cook County herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Minn.) 1893-1909, 1907-10-26
the ruins Of the old mill. B1ddy piled
a great heap of it in the fireplace,
tore the loose paper off IT, walls for
kindling, and started a blaze on the
hoorfh

hearth.
"Oh, amt it foine!" led Maggie,
sitting cross-legged on sthe Aoor before
it with her doll in her arms
Then Mike came back with his arms
and pockets loaded with green corn in
the husk, red-cheeked early apples,
and potatoes just out Of the ground
He piled them in three Eeaps on the
floor, and Maggie danced around them
in great excitement.
Where did ye get 'em, daddy?
Where was the p'lice? Didn't nobody
see your she asked.
"Bless the choild! There amt no
p'lice in the counthry," said Biddy.
"Then let's us stay in the coun-
thry always" replied Maggie reason
ably.
They sat around fire and cooked
and ate with much comfort. A rat
thrust his head through hole in the
floor for a moment, and then scuttled
away in wonder and alarm
There's. our dodgers comm a.
ready" said Mike. Maggie dropped
some kernels of roast corn down the
hole.
Hell come back and get 'em pref
ty soOn," she said, confidently.
After supper Mike sat on the door
step in the twilight and smoked the
pipe of contentment.
"Shure," said Biddy, "'tis loike hab-
in house O. our own, Mike
Lets us play tbs ours, an live here
always" said Maggie"
Mike laughed and slapped his thighs
Does the choild behave the carnfiel'
an the pratie patch'll last us the win.
ter through, an nobody to- ak oncon.
vaynient Questions?" he chuckled.
We'll call it our summer raysi-
dence,' suggested Biddy.
Summer raysidence it u.s." said
Mike. Say, Biddy, 't'u'd be rale foine
now, wouldn't it, if we did have a
place O. our own in the rale coun-
thry loike this, an a pratie patch an
kape pig, an you be lady, an me
gintleman?"
No one Travelled the old road. The
evening train clattered by on the 9th.
er side of the thicket and the sound
died away in the dusky distance. In
| swamp near by an ancient bull frog
opened his deep throat and solemnly
voiced his one idea: Chunk, chunk,
kerchunk!", The river rolled it's bur-
den of the city's refuse onward, and
these human dregs, tossed by an eddy
into this quiet corner of the great
stream of life, were still and nursed
contentment.
When it grew dark Mike knocked
the ashes from his pipe, and they all
| went into the west room. The light
was dying down in the fireplace, and
the bird sat brooding her young ones,
watching with wondering, blinking
eyes. Mike lifted the door on it's
hinge and closed it.
so there won't bugglers Grape in
an stale all our silver-plate," he ex.
| planned to Biddy.
Then they lay down around the fire
| place, pillowed on each other, Maggie
still hugging her doll in her arms. The
moon rose and looked in, and parents
and child, birds, woodchucks and squir
| rels, all waits alike, slept peacefully
until the morning.
| Then they rose up and cooked more
corn and potatoes for their breakfast
and Maggie strewed bits of it ali
around the floor and the doorstep fol
the little wild bird folk which dwell
there. They had blackferries for des
sert, and after that they went back
down the sweet country road back tt
| the railway track. But at the benG
of the thicket they looked back re
gretfully, and Mike f1ourished his
| hand. saying:
Goodbye, old house. A pleasant
winther to ye, an we'd be PLACED tt
stay wild We, if SO it could be-
| I've got this, anyway" observed
Maggie, hugging her doll to he,
bosom.
Then they tramped on down the
railroad, with the river alongside. II
after time, however, much they nigh
be tossed about and beaten by this
| great, cruel world, which is so pitt
less to the poor, they would still have
the memory of something which fo1
| night had been like home.