For The Children

One of the loveliest spots in the world is a nook by the old saw-mill on the Ashuelot River. Grand old trees interlaee their branches overhead, and the rocks are covered with a soft carpet of moss and flowers. One side of the mili is built against an enormous rock that risos out of the water to within a few fect of the roof. The back of the mili on which the wheel is placed is covered with a wonderful vine, as old as the mili itself; this vine clings tightly to the worn gray stones above the wheel, and is kept fresh and green by the spray. It completely covers the upper part of the wall, concealing with acurtain of leaves and tendrils a small window under the eaves. iinti onnmr rnnrnino Dnllv Wild and ii' ■ kj i i í i i t ■ ■ ■ w ■ j - T - - "r-47 " - - her brother Will came down to the old mili and peeped into the open door. The great saw was in motion, filling the building with a queer humming sound as if a colon y of gigantic bees had taken up their abode in the place. The sawyer turned as their shadows feil across the íloor, and said, with a smile, "Well, Dolly, where are you going this niorning?" "To fish behind the mili," replied Dolly. "Ever catch any?" inquired the man. "No, sir," answered Dolly, scraping up the sawdust with the toe of her shoe, "but Will does sometimes." "That's the way, is it?" said the sawyer, looking at Will, and laughing. Then turning to Dolly, he inquired, "Was th at you walking on the plank over the race the other day?" "Yes, sir," answered Dolly. "But how did jou know? I did not think you could see the plank from this side of the mili." "There," said the sawyer, pointing upto the small window under the roof, through which long tendrils of the vine had grown and were stretcmng out 10ward the beams- "I was up there trying to catch a white owl. The vine's full of the pesky things. Now sec here, Dolly, that plank is an awful dangerous place; it's right over the race, and if"you should slip in when the mill's running, nothing short of a miracle could save you from being crushed up against the wheel. It's full a quarter of a mile around over the bridge, and a body might scream till they were black in the face before I heard theni, unless they stood right in the door. So don't you try it again. I shouldn't like to think of my wheel orunching your little bones to flinders." "Well." answered Dolly, "I won't go there again if you feel like that; but I never f all." "Neither does she," put in Will. "She can climb and run and jump ten times better than I can." "There's a last time to most things, remember that," answered the sawyer, "and don't let her go there again." Then he turned and resumed his work. "Good-by," cried the children, and started off nell-mell down the road and over the bridge to their favorite haunt, Dolly skipping and jumping from one slippery stone to another as though she had wings, and Will following more slowly with his basket and rod. The sawyor's words had made him a little thoughtful, and as he watched his sister's careless movements he called out, "Dolly, do take care! I don't wonder the fellows cali you 'Wild Dolly.' " "Do they?" said Dolly, stopping and looking around. "Then I think they're very mean. I never hurt them, I am sure." "Oh, they only ilo it for fun, so don't be mad. But I wish you would take care, and look where you are going. You' 11 f all. "Take care of yourself," answered Dolly;"I ara sure you need itmore tlian I do." "How cross you are to-day!" replied Will. "What's the matter, Dolly?" "Nothing," said Dolly; "only I don't want everybody saying, 'ïake care,' calling me 'Wild Dolly," and all that," "Very well, responded Will, soberly; "only 1 don't want you to liurt yourself." "All right," said Dolly, smiling; "I'm notangiy." By this time they had reached the spot which they had chosen for a flshing place It was on the same bank of the river with the mili, and a few yards above it. Above, a great beech-tree spread its arms f ar out over the stream, and beneath, a flat rock arose out of the water, making a most excellemt spot for iishing. At this point the river, rushing by perhaps for hundreds of years, had worn a littlo circular basin or bay in the hard rocks. Here the water was very deep and still close inshore. You could see down into the green depths for monv fVïnt. nnrl wVipn t.hp. snn shone rectly upon it, you might now and then catch a glimpse of a trout turning liis brlght sicles hither and thither. Will said it was a sort oí "resting-place" for the flsh before they took the plunge throuofh the race. Twënty feet from the shore, however, the river s'iot by like an arrow: a branch or log iloating upon it would fairly seem to fly. A little beyond the bay the whole curre nt was compressed into a great wooden trough or gutter, called the "race." This gutter dclivered the immense power of the stream directly upon the paddies, or buckets, of the whcel, causing it to fly avound in a continuous cloud of foam with a noise like . i j inunuei. Just where tlie water poared out of the ïace upon the wheel there wí.s a strong frame-work of plank which ran ncross the race, close to the surface of the swiftly running water, and very near the wheel. This frame-work was for the purpose of giving strength to the gutter, and to prevent the water froru bursting it to pieces. Over this plank Dolly had often walked without the slightest fear, though it was always wet and slippery, and a single misstep must have surcly dashed her to pieces upon the wheel. The sawver had forbidden her to cross it again, and though shc looked at it longingly as she wandered up and down the banks while Will was arranging his lines, she did not mean to disobey. At the other end of the race - that is to say, farthcst from the wheel and nearest the fishing rock - was another frame-work of different character. It was called the ''gate," and was used for the purpose of shutting the water out of the race, and turning it another way. Of course, when the gate was shut, no water could get into the race; what was already in it would run out. and the wheel would stop. This gate was simply a square of thick plank, bolted together, of the exact size of the race trough, so that when Irt-nm ïf wmilrl ovfl.pt.lv ilofifï thp. (ÏTld OÍ it. It was arranged to run vip and down in grooves madeintwogreatposts standing upright on each side of the race. When fcho mili was in motion the gate was hauled to the top of the posts by means of a roñe running over a pulley, and tied fast. When the sawyer wished to stop hifl wheel. all he had to do was to untie his rope; the gate would drop into the trough of its own veight, and the water would be shut off fron the wheel. After a A-hile Dolly went back to where Will was fishing. He seeined to have very poor luck, for not a nibble had yet rewarded his patience. Dolly sat down beside him, and began to cut up her bread into squares with her knife. "You'd botter eat your bread," said Will, oontemptuouely; "the iish won't touch it." "I'm sure thcy would like it botter than thosc nasty flies and bugs," said Dolly; "1 knowl would." "But you're not a trout, are you?" askedWill. "How do you know what fish like?" "Well, they don't like jour bugs, that's plain," returned Dolly. "ïou haven't had a bitc for half on hour." "That's bccause I've gotan old grasshopper on my hook," said Will, "all bones and no taste in him. Herc, Dolly, just watch my line, will you? I'm going to hunt up a cricket, a largo fat one, and then you'll see." Will laid his rod upon the rock, and began hunting along the bank for his cricket. Dolly was sure her bread would have been better bait, and she would have liked to have drawn up the line and put a morsel of it upon the hook. But she knew Will would be bing iipon the water, untü all of a suelden it gave a great jerk, and sank out ofsight. "WTll! Will!" cried Dolly, excitedly, "you'ye got a bite. Quick! quick! he's running away withtherod!" Will ran down the bank, and sprang forward to seize his rod. In his eagerness his foot slipped upon the wet rock, and the next instant he feil forward upon his face into the water. Before ho could make one effort to save himself he was caught in the eddy, and whirled round and round like a cork. Dolly gave a piercing scream as she saw his mishap. She stood panting on the bank an instant as her brother was drawn more and more -swiftly toward the centre of the stream; then she flew down the bank, and upon the plank next the wheel. "They told me not to cross it'" she drowned, 1 don't caro whether I fall in or not." Will's basket had fallen in with him, and, being lighter than he, had been drawn into the current flrat, and was swept down toward her like a rocket. It passed under her feet. struck the wheel, and was dashed high in the air. She nearly iainted as she thought that this was what must happen to Wïll. Not two minutes after h3 fall Will's body carne driving down the race toward her. She uttered another cry, and crouched down, holding on to the plank with one hand and extending the other toward him. The brave girl never thought that, oven if she could catch her brother, tho force of his motion would be nearly certain to drag her in with him. On he carne, striking now one side of the race and then the other, until he shot directly toward her. As he was passing, she succeeded in catching him by the hair with one hand, while she clung to the frame work with tho other. Of course her strength was not sufficient to have held him up for a moment. But"the tug she gave him directed his course toward the side of the race, and the very instant he was about to be flung upon the wheel, his arm eaught in the frame-work upon which Dolly stootl, and ne was wecigeu iasi. 1T e water tugged and jerked at him, but now its power only fastened him firmer in the frame-work. His jacket was torn off, his hat was gone, his upturned face was cut and bleeding, and his eyes were closed. Dolly clasped her hands and looked round for help. She sprang f rom the plank and ran toward the mili. The sawyer and his man were near the front of the mili on an upper floor. She screamed to them, but the saw was going, and they never heard her. She thought of climbing the high bank, and running around to the front to alarm them. But would there be time? Any moment Will might be torn loose, and then help would be too late. As she ran wildly along the bank her foot struc,k the rope which held the gate in place. She stopped and looked up at it. She knew that if the gate was closed Will could be saved, because no more water could get into the race, and the wheel must stop. She caught hold of the rope and tried her strength upon it, She could not stir the gate; it took the strength of the sawyer and his man to raise or lower the heavy planks, and what could the strength of one poor, half-fainting little creaturedowith such a weight? If she could untiethe knot which held the rope, the gate would drop of its own accord She tore at the knot until her ftngers bied, but ït would not be untied. She arose and looked around agaiD. Will was still hanging in the frame work. Perhaps thore would be time to climb the hill and wam the sawyer. She started at the top of her speed, but suddenly turned aside with a cry of joy, and sprang toward the flat rock where they had been fishing. The knife with which she had been cutting up her bread still lay there; its gleam had caught her eye. il was very sharp and she thought she might eut the rope with it. She soized it and ran back to the gate. Stooping down she pressed the blade against the tightlj strained rope with all her might. There was a sharp snapping sound, then the rope parted with adull report, and the gate splashed heavily into the water. The knot of the parting ropo had struck Dolly a violent blow, and her cheek was eut open to the bone. But she crawled to the edge of the race and looked over. The gate was in place, and the water was rapidly lowering; already the wheel had stopped. Will was saved! The sudden stoppage of his saw had astonished the sawyer, and Dolly saw him thrust his head out of an upper dow "You vixcn!" he cried, "wbat luwe you been doing?" "Saving Will," saul Dolly, faintly "He feil into the race, and 1 cut the rope and let the gate fall. Oh, come down and help him out, please!" What with her cut andherfright Dolly was so weak that she could not move, but lay upon the edge of the race, while the sawyer and his men drew Will out of his dangerous position. He was yet insensible, and his arm was broken, but he was alive and in no danger of dying. "Safe, Dolly!" cried the sawyer, as he carne up carrying Will. "Jump Up and run ahead." Dolly rose and tried to do as ho told her, but she was so weak and sick that she staggercd and feil down again. "Why, the poor darling is hurt, too!" cried the sawyer to his man. "Lift her up, Jim, and carry her into the mili. Cheer up! that's a braye girl; we'll have you safe home in a jiffy. "I don't mind," said Dolly, with a faint smile. "It don t liurt imich. 1 am soglad Will is safe I don't feel anything.'7 The two children wero carried into the mili. The sawyer then harnessed his horse to the mili wagon, and, making a soft bed of saw dust in the bottom of it, laid Dolly and Will upon it and carried them home. Will was sick for many weeks, but Dolly was out in a day or two. The sawyer told everybody what had happened, and Dolly was very mucli astonished bv what people said of her. The village "paper had a long account of the accident, in which it spoke of Doily as a "heroine" and a "brave little woman." Dolly could not understand why so simple a matter as doing your very utmost to save the life of one you love should be tnought so wonderful. Will never forget what his sister had done for him, and years afterward was fond of telling the story of the oíd mili, and of asserting that there nevcr was another sucli girl as his sister Dolly. The more virtuous a man is, the more virtue does ho see in others.