fellow citizens.

He proposed numerous strategic movements to be made upon the logs, whereby
they would move more swiftly than usual. He described several successful
drives on the Kennebec, when the logs had melted down the river almost by
magic, owing to his generalship; and he paid a tribute, in passing, to the
docility of the boss, who on that occasion had never moved a single log
without asking his advice.

From this topic he proceeded genially to narrate the life-histories of the
boss, the under boss, and several Indians belonging to the crew,--histories in
which he himself played a gallant and conspicuous part. The conversation then
drifted naturally to the exploits of river-drivers in general, and Mr. Wiley
narrated the sorts of feats in log-riding, pick-pole-throwing, and the
shooting of rapids that he had done in his youth. These stories were such as
had seldom been heard by the ear of man; and, as they passed into circulation
instantaneously, we are probably enjoying some of them to this day.

They were still being told when a Crambry child appeared on the bridge,
bearing a note for the old man. Upon reading it he moved off rapidly in the
direction of the store, ejaculating: "Bless my soul! I clean forgot that
saleratus, and mother's settin' at the kitchen table with the bowl in her lap,
waitin' for it! Got so int'rested in your list'nin' I never thought o' the
time."

The connubial discussion that followed this breach of discipline began on the
arrival of the saleratus, and lasted through supper; and Rose went to bed
almost immediately afterward for very dullness and apathy. Her life stretched
out before her in the most aimless and monotonous fashion. She saw nothing but
heartache in the future; and that she richly deserved it made it none the