Charlevoix county herald. (East Jordan, Mich.) 189?-1953, 1907-11-16
CHAPTER Ii.-continued.

the girl with increased establishment
He knew who this Mcclure was, and
something of his history, and that
Tins Place was hillside clearing far
up the river, inhabited by an Irish
family devoted to the raising of pota'
toes. He had halted there once, long
enough to observe it's somewhat sloth'
full condition, and to buy pork and po-
tatoes; but this tale was revelation,
and the girl herself greater one.
This oasis in the wilderness was
fully 40 miles above here, its only con-
nection with civilization was seldom
used log road which only an expert
enced woodsman could follow, and
how this mere child had dared it, was
a marvel.
But there she was, squat on the
ground and watching them with big
black, pleading eyes. There was but
one thing to do, to care for her now,
as humanity insisted, and Angie made
the first move. 1t was In the direction
of cleanliness; for entering the tent,
she soon appeared with some of her
own extra clothing, soap, and towels,
and babe the girl follow her up the
river few rods.
The moon was shining clearly above
the treetops, the campfire burned
brightly, and Martin, Ray and Levi
were lounging near it when the two
returned. and in one an astonishing
transformation had taken place.
Angie had gone away with a girl of
ten in respect to clothing, her skirt
evidently made of gunny cloth and
reaching but little below her knees,
and for q waist, what was once a
mans red flannel shirt, and both in
rags. Soiled with black mud, and
bleeding, she was an object pitiable
beyond words; she returned young
lady, almost, in stature, her face shin
ing and rosy, and her eyes so tender
with gratitude that they were pathetic.
Another change had also come with
cleanliness and clothing-a sudden
bashfulness. 1t was some time ere
she could be made to talk again, but
finally that wore away and then her
story came. What tale it was
scarce credible.
1t was a fantastic, weird, almost
spoollish tale,-the spectres she had
seen were so real to her that the tell
ing made them seem almost so to the
rest. and nd that, the girl herself,
so like a yvlag witch, with her shad
owy eyes and furtive glances, added to
the illusion.
Dat Il iN,, fAr L Nxff
tfreshened the fire, and at a nod from
Angie, Ray brought forth his banjo.
1t was his one pet foible, and it went
with him everywhere, and now, with
time and place so in accord, he was
glad to exhibit his talent. He was not
an expert,-a few jigs and plantation
melodies composed his repertory,-
with the moonlight glinting through
the spruce boughs, the river murmur-
ing near, somehow one could not fail
to catch the quaint humor of "Old
Uncle Ned" Jim Crack Corn" and
the like, and see the two dusky lovers
rs they floated down the "Tombigbee
River and feel the pathos of Nellie
Grey" and "Old Kentucky Home"
Ray sang fairly well and in sympa-
thy with each theme. To Angie and
the rest it was but ordinary; but to
this waif, who never before had heard
a banjo or a darby song, it was mar
velous. Her face lit up with keen in
terest, her eyes grew misty at times,
and once two tears stole down her
cheeks.
For an hour Ray was the center Of
interest, and then Angie arose.
Come, Chip" she said pleasantly,
cts time to go to bed, and you are
~ share my tent"
I'D rather not" the girl replied
Dluntly. Il amt fit. / kin jist ez we'll
curl 'longside o. the fire.
But Angie insisted and the girl fol-
lowed her into the tent.
Here occurred another incident that
must be related. Angie, always de-
vout, and somewhat puritanical, was
one who never forgot her nightly
prayer, and now, when ready for slum-
Der, she knelt on the bed of fir twigs,
and by the light of one small candle
offered her usual petition, while Chip
watched her with wide and wondering
eyes. AS might be expected, that waif
was mentioned, and with deep feeling.
do we s'pose God heard YEP" she
queried with evident candor, when
Angie ceased.
why, certainly" came the earnest
answer; God hears all prayers"
And do the spites hear 'em?"
There are no such creatures as
tspites,'" answered Angie, severely;
%you only imagine them, and what
& this Indian has told you is supersti-
ton"
TBut I've seen 'em, hundreds on 'em,
big and little" returned the girl,
stoutly.
Angie looked at her with pity.
Put that notion out of your head.