Little did the Indians think that they were teaching one who would turn all his knowledge to good account against them a few years later; that when they were showing him how to follow a trail they were teaching him to trace their own footsteps; that when the time came he would pay them off roundly for having taken him prisoner.

He was so brave, resolute, stout-hearted, and strong that they set a much higher value upon him than upon his comrade Eastman; for when their friends sent money to Montreal to ransom them, they asked only sixty dollars for Eastman, while John had to pay one hundred. So much for being brave! The money was paid, and the two men were sent to Montreal, and from there to Albany. As they came through Lake Champlain, John Stark looked out upon scenes with which he was to become familiar in after-years, and which we shall read about at another time.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE RIVALS.]

LIL'S FUN.

BY MRS. W. J. HAYS.

"Boys have the best of it always!" said Lil, flinging herself in the hammock with a sigh, as she saw her two brothers, several cousins, and their comrades, in battered hats, turned-up trousers, and dingiest of jackets, going down through the maples with their fishing-poles over their shoulders.

"I think so too," said Ollie, spreading out her dainty dress, and picking a daring gra.s.shopper off her silk stocking. "It's just too mean that we can't have some fun. They say we are always in the way, that we can't even bait our own hooks--it _is_ horrid to stick those nasty worms on!--but I can catch fish as well as any one, and if boys are around, why shouldn't they make themselves useful? And they say we scream so, and make such a fuss about every thing," went on Ollie, in the same injured tone.

"Everything is better for boys than for girls. All the stories are written for them; they can ride, and drive, and play ball, and swim, and skate, and--"

"Lil! Lillie!" called a soft sweet voice, "are you in the sun? Your complexion will be ruined."

"There! didn't I say so?" was the somewhat incoherent reply. "Isn't it always the way? See how we are watched: don't go in the sun, you'll be burned; don't do this, don't do that--all because you're a girl. I'm tired of it.--Aunt Kit, I'm not in the sun.--I wish I was," was added _sotto voce_.

"Country girls' mothers are not so particular," said Ollie. "Look at those Pokeby girls in their calicoes; they climb trees like monkeys, and they have lots of good times."

"Let's go over and see them; it is not far. Come, Ollie."

"In my new dotted mull and silk stockings?" cried Ollie, in amazement.

"Aunt Kit won't let us."

"See if she don't;" and Lil bounced out of the hammock, and into the house, where in the cool darkness of a shaded parlor sat a slender lady, with a pile of flosses in her lap, and a graceful basket in her hands, which she was ornamenting. "Aunt Kit, I have come to ask a favor. We are just bored to death doing nothing."

"Lil, how can you use such an expression? I am shocked. You are really getting very careless in your use of words."

"Well, then, excuse me, but it's the truth all the same. Ollie and I want some fun; the boys wouldn't take us fishing, and now I want you to let us put on some old duds and go over to the Pokebys'. We will promise to come home to tea, we will be as prim as prunes afterward, and I'll play two extra exercises to-morrow, and learn three pages of French. Now you can't say no; there's every reason for saying yes, and you will have a nice quiet time all day, without being bothered. Please--that's a darling!" and she smothered her retreating relative with kisses.

After some hesitation, and after many protestations that they would remember every charge given them, the girls received permission to go to the farm.

"I never was more surprised in my life," said Ollie, as, after donning plainer attire, she and Lil started out. "Now I am going in for a day's fun."

"What are you going to do?"

"Everything. When I get hold of Clara Pokeby--There she is now!"

"Oh, Clara!" broke out both girls at once, "we have come to spend the afternoon, if we may. Is it convenient?"

"I'll ask mother," said the quiet little maid, with a sincerity which somewhat dampened Lil's ardor.

They were joined in a few moments more by two other girls, each a year older and an inch higher; and now Lil, having an audience, began to talk, as they left the orchard where they had met, and from which they were walking to the farm-house, which peered out from its thicket of lilac-bushes, syringas, and overhanging maples. She was waxing eloquent over her dissatisfaction with boarding-house amus.e.m.e.nts, the boys'

neglect, and her aunt's strictness, when they reached the door, and Clara made known her wishes to her mother.

Mrs. Pokeby had heard the conclusion of Lil's speech, and a smile was dancing around the corners of her mouth.

"A little more work and a little less play would be my remedy, Miss Lil." But seeing the girl looked somewhat crest-fallen, she said, kindly: "Come in, come in, all of you, and welcome. If you can wait till my girls have helped me a little, you may have all the fun you can make for yourselves."

The farm kitchen was a very s.p.a.cious room, and Lil and Ollie thought it ever so much nicer than the one in their city house. The dresser was filled with shining tins, the cupboard with blue china enough to stock two or three cabinets, the floor was white as the fine sand could make it, and the bunches of sweet herbs perfumed the room so pleasantly that bees had evidently mistaken the place for a branch of the flower garden by the way they flitted in and out.

Lil and Ollie sat down to watch Mrs. Pokeby, who was preparing to bake; but in a trice both had on ap.r.o.ns, and were busily a.s.sisting Clara and her sisters. It was so nice to be trusted to break and beat eggs, to sift flour, to wash currants, and weigh sugar. They whipped the eggs till they looked like snow, they made the creamy b.u.t.ter dissolve in the sparkling sugar, they tasted and tried the consistency of the cake, they b.u.t.tered the pans, and watched the oven. Mrs. Pokeby even let them mould some biscuits, and spread the paste over pie plates, and drop in the luscious fruit. So intent were they in their occupation that they hardly noticed the lengthening shadows, and heard Clara Pokeby say it was time to be off if they were going anywhere to play.

"Oh, wouldn't it be nice to give the boys a supper?--a supper all cooked by ourselves?" said Lil, with a sudden inspiration.

"Jolly enough," said Ollie.

"And have it in the woods," said Clara. "Do you know where they have gone?" she asked.

"Yes, they were to fish in Black Creek--down where we gathered pond-lilies last week."

"That is not too far. Mother, may we do it?"

"To be sure. You may have a share of everything we have made. Let me see, there's an apple-pie, a pan of biscuit-- I can whip up some corn-bread--"

"Oh, please let me do it," said Lil.

No sooner said than done. Again they went to work. By the time the corn-bread was finished, Mrs. Pokeby had packed the baskets. Lil had looked about fifty times in the oven, and fifty times more at the receipt-book, to see if she had followed the instructions properly, while Clara and Ollie and the other girls had provided gla.s.ses and spoons and napkins.

"Now we are all ready--come on, girls," was at last the order issued by Lil, and away they went. Mr. Pokeby gave them a lift on the empty hay-cart, and carried the heaviest basket to the woods. They chose a lovely spot, gra.s.sy and smooth, not far from the path where the boys would have to pa.s.s. They could hear their voices now, and the occasional splash of an oar. They spread out their table-cloth, made a fire, and Lil said she was going to scramble some eggs; meanwhile Ollie and Clara could be on the watch to secure the guests.

It was a delightful afternoon, and a cool breeze was fluttering the gra.s.ses. The water of the creek reflected the overhanging boughs in its dark surface, water-spiders were spinning their little whirls, crickets were singing, and swallows had begun their evening hunt.

The boys, tired and hungry, pushed their boat up on the bank. One or two were elated with their success, and had quite a string of fish to show; the others, disappointed, had been arguing as to their want of luck, and had subsided into silence.

"Whew!" said Lil's brother Charlie; "I smell something good; wish I was home; awful hungry. How is it with you, Ted?"

"Voracious."

"And you, Sam?"

"Tired as that trout I chased and didn't kill."

"My! how gamy you are!"

Here the group came to a sudden halt. Two small maids appeared from the woods, and making a profound courtesy to Charlie as leader, began a speech.

"Those bothersome girls again!" whispered Billy Brittain.