On the wing

Front matter

CHILDREN'S BOOK COLLECTION

LOS ANGELES

SUNNY HOUR STOEIES.

Chapter II. Adventure Number One

YOUR handkerchief, madam, which you dropped."

The lady was elegantly dressed, and about preceding cousin Madge and Mary into the dining-room, when the latter spoke to her. Turning quickly, she met Cousin Madge face to face. There was a mutual start of surprise, a look of wonder ; then smile answered smile, and hands met in a fervent clasp, as the exclamations, " Madge ! " " Miss Dora ! " established their recognition.

" And this young lady ? " asked the stranger, as they took seats at the same table.

" Is my little cousin, companion, and friend, Mary Harding," replied Cousin Madge, " who is burning with curiosity to know, first, who you are, and next, how I found it out."

ADVENTURE DUMBER ONE. .23

" Then let me introduce myself, while John is getting our cakes and coffee. More than a dozen years ago, Miss Mary, I was employed as teacher of music in a Female Seminary, on Merryland Tract, in the State of Maryland. One of my earliest pupils, and soon my favorite one, was a brown-eyed, sunny-tempered, honest-hearted young girl called Madge, whom I soon learned to love like I did the little sister who lived at my home in the Green Mountains. After a while she left the school : so did I. Then for years I never heard of her. Quite a long time afterward, a good man named Captain Nielson came to me, and asked me to marry him. I did so. And now while his steam packet plies up and down the Detroit River, I stay at this hotel, so as to be as near as possible to him. And now, too, the same Madge, only a little older, is breakfasting with me, away up here in Michigan. It all seems like a dream."

And so it did to Cousin Madge ; a dream BO beautiful, she deplored the necessity

24 ADVENTURE DUMBER ONE.

which was going to end it; but there was no time to lose. She had business which compelled her to go .miles up the river north of Detroit, and thinking Mary needed rest, desired to leave her under Mrs. Nielson's care until her return, which might not be for two days.

Mrs. Nielson was delighted with the plan. There was something about Mary which reminded her greatly of the school-girl Madge of long ago : so, placing her old friend under the care of some acquaintances who were going the same route in search of pleasure, she wished her a speedy return, and applied herself to finding out all she could of the character of her young charge.

"Do you like to be catechized, Mary?" she asked, when they were seated in her beautiful room, and the sun was shining in it as brightly as though there were no such things as clouds.

"No, ma'am ; not, if you mean to begin by asking me the question, i Rehearse the articles of your belief.' "

Mrs. Nielson laughed. "Oh, that belongs to your church duties. Mine shall be questions about every-day things. I want to know all about yourself, and am* going to prove as inquisitive as a magpie."

" Very well, ma'am. I '11 answer you."

" Where is your home ? "

" In Harrisburg, the capital of Pennsylvania."

" Have you any brothers or sisters ? "

" Two brothers, ma'am : a darling mite of one named Charlie, and my big brother Tom, just fourteen years old. I am two years younger."

"What kind of a boy is Tom? I am particularly fond of boys."

"I cannot tell you, ma'am. He is just like himself, and no one else."

" Yes, I understand : a grave, sober fellow, who does not like to play, thinks his sister a nuisance, never moves out of a slow walk, and always goes by himself when he has anything good to eat."

"Oh, Mrs. Nielson! That a picture of our Tom ? Never. He would share the last bit he had with anybody, even a dog, 3 if it looked hungry. As to being grave and sober, why he even laughs loud in his Bleep; and mamma says she believes he would get sick, if he had to be quiet a whole day. Then, as to play, he is considered one of the best skaters and basebailers in our ring ; and he is always making up some new fun."

" Oh ! that is the style of boy I like, in part ; but perhaps if he is so fond of fun, he does not care to study or work. I have heard it said, ' That all work and no play, makes Jack a dull boy'; but I think all play and no work would have the same effect on Jack. Don't you ? "

"Yes, ma'am, maybe. But our Tom does study, just like he does everything else, with all his might. He knows a great deal more than I do ; yet, as I told you just now, he is only two years older. He most always helps Clinton with his arithmetic, and he can \frite the nicest poetry you ever read."

""Writes poetry too; that is marvellous in a boy of his age. Maybe he is a genius. Can you give me a specimen of his style."

Mary did not know exactly whether Mrs. Nielson was making fun of her precious brother or not ; however, she replied honestly.

"Oh, ma'am, of course he does not write that kind which we read of in books, that makes people cry, like the May Queen for instance, or Bingen on the Rhine, 'but just such little things which make us at home laugh. The last piece I remember he wrote upon his slate one morning when Charlie made so much noise he couldn't do his sums. It was headed, ' See my New Boots,' and said,

' Stamp ! stamp ! stamp !

Toot ! toot ! toot !

As the little man appears, With a boot upon each foot.

Then its boom ! boom ! boom ! Rattle ! rattle ! rattle !

As between his hands and blocks, There ensues a furious battle.

Meanwhile in the corner Is sitting stupid Tom, Plodding ! plodding ! plodding ! To do a simple sum.

His slate is almost covered With problems long and trim, When, slam ! bang ! up comes Charlie, And rubs them very dim.

" Oh, Tom, I wants a picter, P'case make me one wight quick ; I wants a barney-cobbler So bad I'm almost sick."

He won't take a denial, But looks so sweet withal, Tom has to draw the turkey — Feathers, comb, and all.

The boots then fall to dancing, The hands begin to clap, And as the slate slides off his knee, The boy slides on his lap.

When Tom goes to his lessons, Of fractions he '11 know naught, But Charlie has had pleasures No money could have bought.

MORAL.

Men might perchance be happy, Without Arithmetics; But earth would be a desert, Were there no Toms or Dicks.' "

" Capital ! capital ! " exclaimed Mrs. Nielson, with glistening eyes. " He is just the kind of a Tom I like, and you have a right to be proud of him. What a fortunate fellow, in having such an appreciative little sister ! But who is Clinton ? "

"Clinton Wood? Why he is Grandma Wood's grandson. They came to Harrisburg two years ago, as refugees from their home in Georgia, and now that the war seems so nearly over, are going back again. They lived next door to us, and we just love them as if they were our own people. Clint and Tom are almost brothers, and when he and grandma start for home in two weeks, Tom is going with them as far as he can, on his way to New Orleans."

" JSTew Orleans ! " echoed Mrs. Nielson, in astonishment, — " down to the very foot of the United States? What does that mean ? "

" Oh, we all hope to meet there in December. You see, Cousin Madge has a brother, Dick, who has been living there since before the war. He has been writing to her, over and over, to come down and spend a winter with him, promising that the novelties she 3* would see there, would repay her for the length of the journey. She has not seen him for years, and decided to go, if papa and mamma would permit Tom and me to go along. She has heen to Louisville, in- Kentucky, once, and is a fearless traveller. I became almost crazy when she first proposed it, for you see, Mrs. Xielson, we love her just as much as we know how to, and then we thought it would he such a grand thing to go away down South and see that queer city about which Cousin Dick writes so much. So papa and mamma thought and talked the matter over, oh, hundreds of times, I guess, — and at length decided, that as this was such a fine opportunity for us to learn something of the geography of the South with our eyes, and that we couldn't too soon become self-reliant, (yes, that's the word papa used,) we might go. Just then, news came to grandma that she could come back to her plantation, (everything seemed to happen at once, you see ;) so they all made it out that Tom should go with them by way of the Atlantic Ocean, and we would take a half land route. I guess we will reach New Orleans first."

" But what brings you so far out of your way as this, my dear ? I cannot understand it."

" Sure enough, Mrs. Nielson, I'll tell you that part. Cousin Dick wrote that he had some important business with a gentleman who lived in Canada, a few miles up the river from Detroit, and that it ought, if possible, to be managed in person and not by letter. He begged Cousin Madge to do it for him. She is just such a lady to do anything she can, if it is right to do it; so she consented, and then determined she would make a brief visit to an old schoolfriend who lives in Illinois, before we sailed for Louisiana. Will not that be nice ? for then I can see a little something of the North too, and I know I will like such a way of getting information, better than studying it out in school all winter. Then Maum Sarah insisted that she must come along to take care of us, as she has been doing all her life. Papa said, ' Very well,' and seemed much satisfied. We left home on "Wednesday morning, got here this morning, and now that is all about us."

" Thank you ! thank you, Mary. You have told your story admirably. But just one thing yet. Who is Maum Sarah? Have I seen her?"

"No, ma'am," Mary answered, the dimples on her cheeks getting deeper as the smile on her red lips grew wider. " Maum Sarah is a black woman who lived with my mother long before we children were born, and ever since, until three years ago, when she went back to my mother's old home, to be with Cousin Madge in Maryland. She has never had any children, and I believe loves us, and Cousin Madge too, just the same as if she was our mother. She is a very, very faithful friend, but sometimes our sides just ache with laughing at her queer ways.'1

" Can she read and write ? and was she a slave ?"

"Yes, ma'am; she was a slave until she was sixteen years old. Then my grandpa, in Maryland, set her free, but she never left the family, and now mamma says she is as much one of it as either of us. She cannot read or write, because, she says, * book larnin' makes some folkses fools,' and she would be sure to be one of that kind ; but papa says her mind is very intelligent : she thinks for herself, and is always making me read her something out of either books or newspapers."

Just then there was a rap at the door, and the object of their conversation stepped in, dropping a low curtsy to Mrs. Nielson as she entered. Her striped turban was replaced by one yellow as a sunflower, and her apron of snowy whiteness reached to the very hem of her brown dress.

" Scuse me, ma'am, please, for eomin' in so peart-like ; but I jist tho't my chile was gittin' mortified, sittin' so long, an' I 'd take her roun' some to see de sights. You know, ma'am, we is trabelin', and I'm 'sponsible for de young ladies."

"Certainly, Maum Sarah; and I think them fortunate in having so watchful a friend," said Mrs. Nielson, who, although C somewhat amused at her singular dialect and misapplication of words, yet felt for her that respect which real goodness ever wins, whether the possessor wears the satin rohe of a queen or the linsey-woolsey of a poor black woman. She was unable to escort them, but directing them by the straightest route to the river's shore, they boldly started out upon a tour of observation. Maum Sarah, having recovered from the effects of her first night's experience upon water, was full of her accustomed energy; and Mary — why she was always as busy as a bee, and ten times as bright. Down abroad street called Jefferson Avenue, walled up by stately buildings, and lined with tall maple-trees now robed in all their autumnal gorgeousness, and they were upon the western bank of the Detroit River, at this point half a mile wide, and dotted with beautiful islands. Several large steam packets were passing to and fro, and directly across, upon the opposite bank of the river, was a small town, between which and Detroit there was constant communication by means of ferry-boats, which were crossing and recrossing every five minutes.

" What town dat, sir ? " said Maum Sarah to a colored drayman who was standing near, cracking his long whip.

" That is old Windsor, in Canada."

"Dear honey! does you hear dat. Old Canady, wat I 's wanted to see eber sence I's been alibe," said Maum Sarah, her face lighting up with a grand idea.

" No, he said < old Windsor.' I guess it is named after Windsor Castle, where the kings and queens of England generally live," said Mary, looking over at it with an affection born, of the sudden memory of home and the little village of Bridgeport just across her own dear Susquehanna, which the present scene so much resembled; but Maum Sarah's thoughts were running through a different channel, as her next sentence proved.

" Pshaw, honey ! I no care about kings an' all dem. I jis' wants to see ole Canady, which used to be de refuge place for all de poor slaves down Souf wen dey wanted to be free. Unkle Jupiter lib'd dar once eleben years, and it urns' be a blessid place. Now, let 's jis' cross ober, look roun' a leetle, and den come back. You know we's a trabelin' anyhow."

" But do you think Cousin Madge would like to have us go over there alone?" asked Mary, in some doubt.

" Why, chile, don't you spec' we 'd want to pass ober Jordan ef we was standin' on its banks, an' Canaan was jist in view? Now Canady has bin de black man's Canaan for so long, 'deed an' I mus' git dar."

Mary was convinced, and in a very short time they had landed upon, to Maum Sarah, the sacred soil of Canada. Windsor proved a little, old, quiet town, with ivy climbing up the sides of the houses, and patches of moss clinging here and there to roofs grown gray with age. Finding nothing in it to interest them, they wandered idly along the deserted shore, and seeing a small empty canoe lying just at the water's edge, stepped in it to rest. Mary was seated, as Maum Sarah jumped in. Her great weight, added to the shove she gave the canoe as she got aboard, broke its rope-fastening, and before they were scarcely conscious of the accident, they were floating down the river.

"Oh, honey!" exclaimed Maum Sarah, her face distorted with alarm, " don't git skeered, don't git skeered! We's gwine so easy like, an' I spec' de good Lord will delibber us, his chilluns, somehow." But notwithstanding her advice, she exhibited by far the most fright of the two. Mary had been too often rowed up and down the calm, clear waters of the Susquehanna, to feel any real fear as yet. She looked in the bottom of the canoe for the oars, or a long pole, thinking to steer it ashore herself, but there was none to be found.

" Sit still, Maum Sarah, or you'll upset us," said Mary, as they floated gently on, her presence of mind soon coming to her aid. " There '11 be some person along the shore soon, and we '11 shout for help."

"Yes, chile! but sposin' no one comes,

38 ADVENTURE DUMBER ONE.

an' we sail on, on, jist like de babes in de woods ; wat den ? "

" There comes a skiff now! " eagerly exclaimed Mary, as a small one, containing two men, shot out from behind a small, densely wooded island midway ID the river. They strained their eyes to examine them. One was standing. His dress consisted of a yellow calico shirt, white trousers, with a red stripe down the sides, no shoes, and his black hair floating over his shoulders. A fish-basket was hanging down his back, supported by a broad, red band of flannel tied around his forehead. His companion, who was rowing, was similarly dressed, only he wore upon his head a broad-brimmed straw hat.

"Don't let's call yit, honey, dey looks so quare. Wat sort o' humans you tink 'em ? "

" They must be half-breeds, or Indians, of whom I have heard Cousin Madge often say there were large numbers about here. They are Canadians almost, and I expect have fish to sell. Had I not better call them to help us, Maum Sarah ?"

" Injuns ! Injuns ! savages ! dat kills white folks an' den roasts 'em alibe? Oh my precious chile, we'll be tomahocked now, sure!" and with eyes big and round with terror, she would have jumped into the water, but for Mary.

"Now, Maum Sarah, be still ! I'm ashamed of you. Is not God watching over the whole world, and cannot he take good care of us, if we ask him ?"

"Yes, clear chile; but we ain't in the real worl' now, wre's only in Canady, don' you know?"

But while they were talking, the half-breeds were rapidly approaching the drifting canoe, which, as accident happened, belonged to the one who was -standing up. Recognizing it, and thinking the two women were running away with it, he shouted in broken English, —

"Boat! boat! ugh! you steal my boat! Bring him back to me !" Slipping the strap from off his forehead, and putting his basket of fish down, he jumped into the river, and swam towards them. Maum Sarah screamed with terror indescribable.

Thinking their last hour was indeed come, she caught Mary in her arms, almost smothering her, but her true love for the child had overpowered her fear.

"Dey mus' kill me fust, Tore dey strikes you, honey/'

" Oh ! oh ! I can't breathe, Maum Sarah. Let me go. The}' can't kill us. we are too near land. Let us jump out too and swim."

"No, honey, we'd drown sure." But before they could move, even had they made the effort, the Indian, who was now wading, had reached them, caught the boat, and, without a word, pulled it to the shore, which was really but a few feet off. Seeing around Maum Sarah's neck a string of blue and yellow beads, her most cherished and valuable ornaments, he seized them, saying,—

" You steal my boat ; me have all these. Take off, take off."

But finding she was yet alive, and loving her beads next to Mary, she began to explain, in her most polite manner.

"Mr. Injun! dear, kind Mr. Injun ! we is no rogues. De boat jis' went off hisself. Please, sir, leff us go home. Dis is Miss Mary Hardin', Mr. Injun."

" Yes, do let us go back, sir, and I will get you some money," plead Mary.

" Me have these ! me likes 'em," said the Indian, enjoying Maum Sarah's awful fear ; and seeing her still disposed to resist, he drew from under his blouse a huge fishknife and brandished it over his head. Death being now so near, she tore the beads from her neck, and seizing Mary's hand, rushed frantically to the ferry landing, declaring, as she bid adieu to the inhospitable shore, that she would rather be ten times over a slave than, free, to live among those Canada Indians.

"I guess we will go straight back to the hotel," said Mary, as they landed again in the city of Detroit ; " we will not go out again until Cousin Madge returns."

" Yes, honey. I 's seen enuff ob curosities — Injun kine, I mean — to las' me forebber. Dar is no place like home. Oh, chile ! ef I only had dein beads agin."

Chapter III. Cousin Madge In Canada

nnHE following Monday evening, Cousin JL Madge having returned an hour previous, as they were settled for an uninterrupted conversation, and while Maum Sarah, as was her custom, comhed the heavy strands of Cousin Madge's golden-brown hair, Mary proposed that they should "compare notes."

" Oh ! how often I thought of you, pet/' said Cousin Madge, "and pitied the dull time you would necessarily have until I returned ; hut you needed rest, and now after spending to-morrow in a walk around Detroit, we'll be ready for a fresh start."

" Oh, cousin, you little thought what an exciting time we were having when you supposed we were only resting," said Mary, with an arch laugh. " Now that it is over, we can afford to make merry about it ; but

I think that going to Canada, getting afloat on a river without pole or paddle, being attacked by Indians, and having to fly for one's life, is quite adventure enough for the beginning of one's travels."

Cousin Madge gave her head such a sudden jerk at this piece of intelligence, as she wheeled around to get a full view of Mary's face, that Maum Sarah's pyramid of puffs was entirely spoiled.

" Oh, honey ! do keep still wid you, even if you is 'stonished mos' out of your sensis. 'Deed, an' it's true, ebery word; an' if it hadn't ben for dat chile's courage, I'm free to 'fess I'd fainted, — she's as brave as Tom — bress him!"

Mary, who thought herself undeserving of such praise, now undertook to relate the whole story, which she did in such a few words, and in such a merry way, that even Maum Sarah was convinced it was not so bad as it had seemed at first, and almost forgave the Indian his theft of her beads, in consideration of the fact that it was their beauty which attracted him. "But we saw nothing of Canada,- said Mary, " and for that I pitied Maum Sarah the most."

" And for that you shall hear all that I saw of it in my little trip," said Cousin Madge. " The steamboat we sailed in was called The Morning Star. It was beautifully furnished, and I just felt as if I was floating ' on the water in somebody's elegant parlor. The Detroit River was not more than half a mile wide, bounded on the one side by Michigan, on the other by Canada West. The scenery upon its borders was not like that of our own beautiful Susquehanna nor Potomac. I saw no blue mountains in the distance, nor high hills sloping down towards the water, nor forests of gold and purple trees fringing the banks, like we have at home ; instead, all of the land visible on either side of us was flat and barren. From twenty to fifty feet from the shore, all was marsh, from which grew tall reeds resembling cauebrake. Occasionally I would see long-legged, long-necked, ashcolored cranes, fishing for their dinners; and wild ducks flying in squads of a dozen or more, and lighting wherever their food seemed most abundant. One old motherduck had a whole family of little ones. They seemed so tame, and came so near, that I could distinctly see through the clear water their small yellow feet-paddles. I began to realize I was far from home, by occasionally seeing a lonely Indian hut, and once we passed an Indian village named Yadakeefc, and stopped to deliver some freight to a white man who keeps store there. The village looked very desolate. It was built in a half-circle. The houses were made of boards built one story high, and in shape resembling somewhat the wigwams used by the Indians in the faroff forest. The floor was as firmly baked as that of an oven, and not a shrub or green tree visible, to brighten up and make the huts look cheerful. Some squaws, with their papooses strapped upon their backs, were washing clothes in the river; one was bailing water out of a boat, while her lazy husband sat near smoking a pipe, and no doubt enjoying to see how hard she worked."

" Oh, Maum Sarah ! you are a rough hairdresser," said Cousin Madge, as a sudden pull made her abruptly stop in her narrative.

" Oh, honey ! did I hurt you ? 'Deed I didn't mean to; but wat you said 'cited me. Did anybody eber hear de like ob dat Injun man ! I wish I had him down in ole Mer'land a wile. De way I'd cure him ob his lazy ways, a-makin' him tote water and chop wood, would be fun. Dat all comes from not bein' Christinized."

" Certainly, Maum Sarah, if these poor half-breeds were educated and taught to love God with all their hearts, they would soon love their wives as themselves. The first sin that Christianity drives out of the heart it enters, is selfishness; the first rule it writes upon it, is, ' Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.' But to go on with my travels. In a short time we had entered Lake St. Clair, one of the calmest and most beautiful little lakes in America. It is thirty miles long, in some places twelve, in others twenty-four miles broad. It is a basin in which the Thames, CHnton, Great Bear Creek, and other small rivers empty their waters ; then, united, they flow on into the Detroit River, and through it into Lake Erie, up which, you know, we sailed that night in coming here. As we steamed along through the lake's middle channel, we came near the lighthouse, the first one I ever saw. Now lighthouses generally are built upon rocks, or points of land, or islands, but this one stood in the centre of the wide lake, afar off from either island or rock. Its foundation was massive logs, planted upright in the lake's bed, upon which was built a frame dwelling-house two stories high. It was surrounded by a balcony. A narrow foot-bridge, one hundred and twenty feet long, shot out from its one side and connected it with the tall tower from whose top a brilliant light shone through the entire night like a star. The tower was encircled midway by a balcony, on which stood a huge Newfoundland dog, large and black as Tom's Bruno ; and near him was a little girl your size, Mary, who waved her handkerchief as we approached.

Outside the windows of the dwelling-house hung a cage in which a mocking-bird changed its song half a dozen times in half as many minutes, and from various windows hung wire baskets, with green vines trailing around and hanging from them, a sign that some one within that water-bound house loved the beautiful. As our steamer passed, the lighthouse-man rowed towards it in a small boat, and throwing into it a string of fine fish, in exchange for some newspapers and groceries, we passed on. Stopping at several small ports to distribute freight, we finally landed some of our crew, myself among them, at Mooretown, in Canada, the place where I hoped to find the gentleman for whom I was in search. Passing through an avenue of wood, cut and piled up in cords the height of a tall wall, we got into the little village. I had had a kind of reverence for the place before we entered it, for the sake of the gallant English General, Sir John Moore, in whose honor it had been named; but with every advancing step we took, I felt his memory had heen insulted by such a memento. It had no pavements, the houses were all built of boards, pigs occasionally ran in and out of them, and seemed so much at home in the streets, that I fell to wondering whether I had not landed in an Irish vijlage, instead of one settled by the proverbially neat English. Stopping at the first hotel, we were invited into the parlor ft the room was not much wider than an ordinary hall. Strips of dirty oil-cloth covered the floor.