Adventures Of Tad

authok of "pkpper adams," "blown out toSea," "Paul Grafton," Etc. {Copyrighted, mis, by D. Lothrop dt Co., and Published by Special Arrangement.] CHAPTER VII.- Continued. "I guess you'll do," she finally said, "at least I'm minded to try you, soyou can come over and begin wark early Monday morning." "Thank you, marra," replied Tad, with a beaming face. "I'llbehere early; and though I'm kind of green, Miss Smith," he added, earnestly, 'Tlllearn just as fast as ever I can, and work all the harder to make up." "Well, we'll see," was the only reply. Miss Smith's faith in juvenile promises had been rudely shattered by the frequent breakages that she had known in her experience. At the same time she feit rather drawn toward this pale-faced orphaned boy - though she would not have owned it, even to her own self. "Don't you let that Joe Whitney lead you into any mischief before you get back to Cap'n Flagg's," said Miss Smith, sharply, raiaing her voice for Joe's ediöcation, as Tad joined him outside the gate. "Now, MissSniith," expostulated the Injured youth, "that i.srrt fair!" The maklen lady smlled ij;iiificantly, and, muttering something about "innocent Abigail," regumed raking, while Tad, exultant over his future prospects, forebore to reproach his mischievous companion for the little episode I have narrated, and the two walked away together in the most amicable manner. chapïeb vm. Who that was ever a boy has forgotten, or will forget, his first iishing expericnce? No matter whether it was angling for minnows from the wharf, with a pin-hook, eatching "pumpkin seeds" from Ihe mill-pond logs or following up au alder-fringed brook in pursuit of trout - he will be sure to remoinlior it a grcat deal longer than he will the more important episodes of his later life. And I know mie in particular ■who will always remember lus boyish debut in the fishing Hul-- I mean T:ul Thorne. It was ihr Saturday mornlag followingTad's peculiar introduction to Miss Smitli, and au unusually mild day for a New England April, which uncertain montli is rery apt to seeni bo much like March as to resemble a younger brother. Joe and T;ul were digging balt in Deacou Wlritnoy's barn-yard; that is, Joe did the ligging whUe Tad placed the angle-wonns in a round tin mustard-box, with a ventilating cover. "There!" said Joe, straightening up, "and now, Tad- jou plague old tattle-taïe!" Tad looked np in diiv astonishmont; but tlu' conclusión of Joe' 9 sentenee was evidently uot addressed to himself. lt waa churning-day at Deacon Whitnoy's, :uii] Joe'a eyes were fixed on the retreating form of Miss Smith'a hired help who had come over to bespeak some buttermilk for Mis Sniitli's pig. Samantha Nason w:;s giren to gossip, and Joe'a guilty conscience at once assured him that she had lost do time In telling the story ofhis late humorous performance to the deacoa, Mrs. Whituey and hls sinter Nell. "I guesg ucM better be off,'1 remarked Joe, rather hastily; "and, inBtead of going out the front wav, wé'll take :i short cut down through the fields, You'vu got yonr Unes all rightP" Tad tapped his pocket significantly, and adjusted the tin-box cover while Joe was putting the shovel back in the barn. "Come on, then, Tad," said his companion, with an uneasy glanee at the back kitehon, wliich Tad did not quite onderstand, and wjth his words Joe dodged hastily behind the barn, followed by Tad; but, alas! lie was too late! From the open kitchen-window came the cry, in his sister Nell's voice: "Jo-seph!- come right into the liut- father wants you!" "Darn it all!" muttered Joe, with a vindictive kick at the fenoe-rail; now l'vo got to catch it.'! "Catch what?" wonderingly asked Tad, though with an intuitivo suspicion that Joe was not referring to the prospective catch of trout. Joe did not reply, but with a gloomv and vengeiul expression, slunk into the barn by the small rear door, followed by his wondering companion. From behind the corn-crib Joe hastily pulled the bottom of au old pasteboard bandbox. "Shove it up under my coat, behind - quick, Tad!" he exclaimed, in an agitated whisper, "and thenyougo ahead to the brook - may be I can get off bime-by. It don't hurt much of any, with Ihis," adiled Joe, with a rather sickly smilo, as he touched the snjall of his back signilicantly, "only I've got to get a new piece of pasteboard - this is pretty nigh worn out." "Are you coming, JosephP" The voice was Deacon Whitney's, and sounded from the wood-shed close by. ïad fled ignominiously through the rear bain door, wliile Joe reluctantly obeyed the direful summons. Not that Deacon Whitney was unreasonably harsh or stern. Indeed, his wife said: "Joe's thrashin's hurt the deacon a dretful sight more'n they did Joe," - which was doubtless true. Tlie boy knew that his father loved him sincerely, and that the whippings were not given in anger, but from a sense of duty, and, though he would willingly have dispensed with them, Joe never cherished the slightest feelings of anger or resentment, af ter the first smart had passed away. Leaving Joe to his impending fate, Tad clirnbed the barn-yard fence, and with a jubilant feeling of gladness, which was only shadowed by the occasional thought of his new friend's disappointment, made his way down across the deaeon's meadows, to the brook. Tad knew nothing whatever about trout-flshing, as a matter of course. He had oaught flounders and cunners from the piers, Uke most city boys - but only those. However, ho liad a general idea of some of the requirements tor the piscatQrial art. So, with a very light hoart, he followed the "mili brook," as it was ealled, through a field and an adjoining pastare, till he came to an alder swamp, where, having out a pole, Tad sat himself down to shape and tnm ït. Well, it was indeed a lovely morning. The sky above hini, flecked with drifting white clouds, was of the deepest blue, the air soft and spring-like, and the peaceful stillness unbroken only by the occasional cawing of orowï or scream of a bluejay. Tad sat drinking in the beauty of the time and place, softly whistling to himself as he worked, and thought over the many strange tliings that had come into his lifo in one short weck, and all because an absent-minded man had left his trareling-sachel on the seat in a railroad station. "Why, it just soems as though I'd been swoppod off for somebody else," he said, with a great sigh of thankfulness. And though, as niiiilit bo expected, Tnd Thorne's religioiu knowledge was of tlic vaguest possible order, he som ch ow feit his heart going out thankfully to the Maker of such a beautiful worlil. "There," said Tad, ns, finishing trimming the pole, he rose to his feet and brushed oflf the twigs, "now for the trout." The brook wout dancing and laughing along at his sidc, with here and there a mimic water-fall, at the foot of whieh the foam and bubbles drifted abont in frothy masses. Willi íingers trembling a lïttle with excitement, Tad fastened his line, with its lieavy sinker and hoek large enough for black baas, to the end of the pole. Adjusting the bait, he threw his line luto (lie deepest port of the pool. "1 gucss it isn't a very good day for trout, any way," he murmnred, after about live minutes of letting lii.s line drift alang in the current, and imlling, it up again. Hut stop! a little tug atj the hook sent a thrill from his finger- tips to his toes! With a jcik that would have landed a three-pound trout, Tad pulled mr a chub about four inchesi long, which, with hook, line and sink- er, was immediately entangled in the! alder branches over hls head, ï'cquiring' ■ome ten minutes ni' perspiringeffortto clear it. "Trout ain't as big ael thought for," ; he said, half aloud, as he BUrveyed his prize. "It must take an awfol lot of' cm to make :v mess."' Tad added. gravely, as lio strung the smal] íish on a twig, and made his way a little further up-stream, in his ignorance passing over the eep pools and swelling eddies, which are generally the lurkLng-placea of the spotted beauties. By eleven o'cloek, Tad, who had caught se ven chubs, each about afinger in length, began to tliink that the charm of trouting had been considerably overst&tod. It was rather early in the g'eason for mosquitoes, vet there were quite enough of them about to makc it. quilc üvely for a lisherman. He had ascended the brook about two miles, and was tíred and decidedly hungiy; and, moreover, he foand himself right in the hcart of what eeemed to Tad's unaocustomed eyea a boundless foreat. Sitting down on a stump, Tad gazed about liim. wondering at the solemn sihnee. Overhead, the wind sighed softly through the tops of the great pines. Bed Bqnirrels chittered in the spnice and hemlock trees, nd a particularly venturesome one dropped a cone from an overlianging bough at his vpit feet, vanishing among the branches with wonderful swiftness, as Tad looked suddenly up. A partridge druinmed in the distanee, and a woodchuck scampered rapidly through the underbrusli at a little way oft". "1 wonder if there are anv bears in these woods," thought Tad, with an uncomfortable thril' pervading his frame at the bear possil)ility. 'Td either hare to run or climb a tree if saw one coming," he thought, "and yet, what good vrould that do, where bears eau climb and run rather better than most boys." In a juvenile paper he had read liow om; "boy hcio," thus surprised, had ha.stily laahed his open jack-knife to the end of a pole, and boldly attacking the savage beast, had slain him a fortúnate thnist Tad mechanieally took out hls own jackknife, and opened the two-inch blade nf the best east-iron. "I oouldn't do much wlth tliat," he thonght, "bat 1 suppose" ■ 'O-r-r-r-rr A terrible growl, accompanied by a rustllng in the thieket of small pines close at hand, sent Tad'a heart into his rery throat! Tuere was not even time to splice the knife to the fish-pole, for the growl and rustling were repeated looder and nearer than before! The hackneyed expression, "to sell his Ufe dearly," flashed into Tad's mind, and, bracing himself against the tree-stump - somewhat in the 'Come one, come all- this rock shall fly From its flrm base, as soon as I" attitude - he held his open jack-knife in his hand, and awaited the overcoming monster! CHAPTER IX The spruce-bushes parted suddenly; bat, instead of disclosing the form of a ferocious bear, nothing more formidal)le than the good-huruored features of Joe Whitney, adorned wlth an expressive grin, was revealed. There were traces of reeent tears on his freckled face; yet mirth beamed from his eye, and it was evident that the recent punishment had not liad a very depressing effect on his animal spirits. "Thought I was a bear, didn't you, Tad?" he remarked, laughing. And ïad, too much relieved at the prospect of companionship to feel very angry, answered, with a feeble smile, that he was kind of startled, and made liaste to change the subject. "I've got seven trout, but they're awful small," said Tad, produolng his catch, with a rather disconsolate air. Joe started, whistled and then roared. "Why, you goosie!" he shouted, but so good-naturedly that it was impossible to be angry with him, "those ain't trout- they're chubs!" Poor Tad feit tremendously mortified, but speedily forgot his mortification in real honest ulmiration of a string of trout- the krgest of which would not weigh quite a quarter of a pound- that Joe brought out, together with an alder pote, from the thicket where he had enacted the bear. "I dug some bait on the way, and eaught these little fellows coming along, explained Joe, as he heldthem up before his eompanion'i admiring gaze. "Oh, u-oitldn't I like to cateh just one trout!" sighed Tad; and Joe stoutly assured him not to worry - he'd put him up to catohtng more thau one - pcrhaps half a dozen - bcforo they returned. "Did it hurt yon veri mnohP" inqnired Tad, presently, with delicate referenco to the cause of his oompanion' s detcntion. "The paateboard wasn't quite low down enough," saiil Joe, mournfully, and Tad asked no further qucstions. "Father didn't flog me for just haring a little fun with j'ou and Miss Smith," Joe went on after a short pause, "lmt beoauM he said I is good as lied wlien I made her think that you was deaf, and you think that she was." "Well," returned Tail, hesitatingly, "I don't know - you didn't mean to say what wasn't truc, any .;y." "No," said Joe, frankly; "I didn't! I hate a square up and down lic as bad as the next one; but, come to study on it over, I guess we f ello wï don't t(i])to think long enough, sometdmes, and lie when we don't mean to; anyhow, I do, uul l'm going to try and stop it." Thifl was quite an adinission for Joe, vlio was generally vory chaiy of acmowledging his faults. But he had begun to fccl a strong boyish affeotion for his companion, and stoke more openly to him than he was in the habit of doing. "But what made you so long getting here?" asked Tad, breaking the üttle I silence that followtd. ' " Why, after father - got through with me," returned Joe, white a humorous smile began to hover about ln mouth, "he set me churning, and went oflf down town on an errand. Mother, she was sent for to go over to Mis' Emory's, all of a suelden, and, by gracious!" said Joe, rubbing his shoulders, "I thought my anus would just unliinge out of the sockets before the butter eame. Well, Nell, she took the butter down into the cellar kitchen to wprk it, and forgot to empt' the chura (as mother always does), and whilst she was down there," continued Joe, whose smile liad begun to broaden, "I saw father coming up the walk, sowhat does I do but get hold of the churndasher again. Father, h came in. 'There, my son!' he saya, 'I guess yon' ve been punished enough - you can go now,' and then he took the churndasher right out of my liand. If mother hasn't got back, or if Nell don't come np-stairs," added Joe, with an irreprensible snicker, "I expect likely he's churning buttermilk now." As Tad knew rather less than a Hottentot regurding tbfl mysteries of churning, the point of Joe's little joke was not perfeetly clear to his own mind. And perhape, on second thought, Joe might have remembered that the tacit deception practiced toward his father was not exactly in keeping with his professed penitence of a moment or two previous, for he made no attempt to enlighten his companion, but, taking up his pole, said, rather hastily, that he guessed they'd better be getting toward home, as it was considerably past dinner-time. About half-way down Mili brook were the ruina of an old saw-mill. Here, among the great timbers below the dam, the water made deep eddies and shady nooks, where trout love to lie in the heat of the day. "Throw in there, Tad," said Joe, 2ointing to a spot whcre the dark water rushed arouiid the end of the broken flume liko a mili-race. Tad secretly thought that any trout venturesome enough to trust himself in such a sw.ift current would be swept down stream in a twinkling. But he obeyed, and - Good gracious! had a sturgeon or a young wlialo soizod his bait! His lino wrnt eiittiiiíí through tin darfe waters, and the top of the alder pole bent ominously. [TO BE CONTINUED.]