THE COMING WAVE.
By the middle of July the Sea Cliff House was full. The report of the
New Yorkers among their friends that this hotel was the best on the
coast, induced a great many families and others to seek accommodations
at the house. By the first of August Mr. Bennington was obliged to
"colonize" his guests in the neighboring houses. The season was a
decidedly successful one to him, and his profits more than realized his
anticipations. In the fall he paid off the mortgage on his furniture,
and the note he owed to the widow Wormbury, and still had a large
balance in the bank. The Island House had hardly any business, for
people preferred to go to the Sea Cliff, even if they had to take rooms
outside of the hotel. Ethan did not make any money that season.
Leopold had all he could do in the boat, and made a small fortune for
himself by taking out parties. He raised his price to six dollars a day,
so that he could pay Stumpy two dollars a day for his services. The
affairs of Mrs. Wormbury were therefore in excellent condition.
After the season was finished, a man came over from Rockland and took
rooms at the Sea Cliff House. He inquired if there was such a person in
the place as Joel Wormbury. The guest was very much surprised to learn
that he was dead, and in the course of the day went to see his family.
He had come to offer Joel a situation on a plantation in Cuba, where he
had first met and known the deceased. The visitor was an engineer, by
the name of Walker, and had instructed Joel in his business, so that he
was able to run an engine on a plantation. Joel had told him his story.
He had been picked up by a passenger steamer, and carried to Liverpool.
There, after he had been drinking, he was induced to ship as a seaman in
a bark bound to Havana, where he first met Walker. He ran away from the
vessel, and went with his new friend to the plantation where the latter
was employed.
Joel was a mechanic, and understood an engine very well. Instructed in
the details of the business by Walker, he obtained a situation at very
good wages. He had written to his wife, but for some reason unknown his
letters failed to reach their destination. After working two years on
the plantation, he determined to go home, and ascertain what had become
of his family. Walker had gone with him to Havana, where Joel changed
his money into American gold, and embarked in the Waldo. That was the
last his friend had heard of him. Walker had come home on a visit to his
relatives in the interior of the state, and wished Joel to return with
him.
The mystery was solved; and the visitor declared that his friend had not
drank a drop of liquor during the two years he was in Cuba.
It was a great satisfaction to Mrs. Wormbury and her children to hear
this good report of the deceased husband and father; and Walker left,
sincerely grieved at the death of his friend, whom he highly esteemed.
In the winter Leopold went to the "academy," and studied hard to improve
his mind and increase his knowledge. He applied himself diligently to
German, under the instruction of Herr Schlager, so that he could talk in
that language with Rosabel when she came the next season, for it must be
confessed that he thought a great deal of her.
The spring came, bringing nearer to Leopold the coming of Rosabel. In
June a letter from the honorable Mr. Hamilton arrived, announcing the
intended visit of the family to the Sea Cliff House, and fixing the time
at about the first of July. He engaged his own rooms, and three others
for his party and they were to come in the Orion. This was the best of
news to Leopold. He was a year older than when he had last seen Rosabel,
and had grown much taller and stouter. An incipient mustache was coming
on his upper lip,--though he was not yet eighteen,--on which he bestowed
some attention. The young ladies in the academy had declared among
themselves that he was the handsomest young man in Rockhaven; and with
this indorsement there can be no doubt that he was a very good-looking
fellow. He dressed himself neatly, out of his own funds, and was very
particular in regard to his personal appearance.
As the first of July approached, he was even more particular than usual.
The dawning mustache was carefully trained, so that each hair was in the
most eligible position to produce an effect. For a boating dress, he
wore a gray woolen shirt, trimmed with pink, and secured in front with
black studs. But even in this garb, with his hair nicely combed, his
mustache adjusted, his broad shirt-collar, open down to his breast, and
held in place by a black handkerchief, tied in true sailor style,--in
this garb, even, he was a fellow upon whom a young lady would bestow a
second and even a third look, if the circumstances were favorable.
From early morning till dark, on the first day of July, Leopold kept an
eye on the sea-board side of the town, looking out for the Orion. She
did not appear; but on the afternoon of the next day, he discovered the
yacht as she rounded the point on which stood the light-house. Captain
Bounce knew his way into the river this time, and in a few moments more
the Orion reached the anchorage off the wharf. As soon as Leopold
recognized the vessel, he hastened to the Rosabel, his heart beating
wildly with the pleasant excitement of the occasion. Embarking in the
sloop, he was soon alongside the Orion. The accommodation-steps were
placed over the side for him, and he ascended to the deck.
"I am glad to see you, Leopold," said Mr. Hamilton, extending his hand
to the boatman.
"Thank you sir; we are all glad to see you and your family here again,"
replied Leopold, as he glanced towards the quarter-deck in search of
Rosabel. "Are Mrs. Hamilton and your daughter on board?"
"Yes, both of them; but I have a smaller party than I had last year."
At this moment Leopold saw Rosabel emerging from the companion-way. His
brown face flushed as he approached her, and she was as rosy as a
country girl when she offered him her little gloved hand, which he
gratefully clasped in his great paw.
"I am _very_ glad to see you again, Miss Hamilton," said Leopold; and
certainly he never uttered truer words in his life.
"And I am delighted to see you again, Leopold," she replied gazing
earnestly into his handsome brown face, and then measuring with her eye
his form from head to foot. "How tall and large you have grown!"
We are inclined to believe, from the looks she bestowed upon him, that
she fully indorsed the opinion of the young ladies of the academy.
Rosabel was taller, more mature, and even more beautiful than when he
had seen her last. She was dressed to go on shore; but as soon as she
saw Leopold and the Rosabel, a new idea seemed to take possession of her
mind.
"I want to go to High Rock this minute!" exclaimed the fair girl. "I
have been thinking about the place every day since I was here last year;
and I want to go there before I land at Rockhaven."
Her father objected, her mother objected, and the grim old skipper of
the Orion declared there would be a shower and a squall, if not a
tempest, before night. But Rosabel, though a very good girl in the main,
was just a little wilful at times. She insisted, and Leopold was engaged
to convey her to the romantic region. He was seventeen and she was
fifteen; and no young fellow was ever happier than he was as he took
his place at the helm with Rosabel opposite him in the standing-room.
No other member of the party was willing to join her in the excursion,
for Belle Peterson and Charley Redmond were not passengers in the yacht
this time. If Leopold had been a young New Yorker, perhaps her father
and mother would have objected to her going alone with him. As it was,
they regarded him, in some sense, as a servant, and they intrusted her
to his care as they would have done with a conductor on the train, or
with the driver of the stage. He was simply the boatman to them--a very
good-looking fellow, it is true, but not dangerous, because he was not
the young lady's social equal. He always treated her with the utmost
respect and deference.
The breeze was fresh, and in a few moments Leopold landed her on the
narrow beach beneath the lofty rock. The maiden left the boat, climbed
the high rock, and wandered about among the wild cliffs and chasms, all
alone, for Leopold could not leave the inanimate Rosabel--which the rude
sea might injure--to follow the animate and beautiful Rosabel in her
ramble on the shore.
She was gone an hour, and then an other hour. He called to her, but she
came not, and even the warning of the muttering thunder did not hasten
her return. But she came at last, and Leopold hastened to get under way,
though he feared that the storm would be down upon him before he could
reach the Orion.
"We are going to have a tremendous shower," said Leopold, anxiously, as
he shoved off the boat.
"I'm not afraid; and if I get wet, it won't hurt me," replied Rosabel,
who actually enjoyed the flashing lightning and the booming thunder, and
gazed with undaunted eyes upon the black masses of cloud that were
rolling up from the south-east and from the north-west.
"It looks just exactly as it did on the day the Waldo was wrecked,"
added Leopold. "It blew a perfect hurricane then, and it may to-day."
"If you are alarmed, Leopold, we can return," suggested Rosabel.
"We can hardly do that, now, for the tide has risen so high that the
beach is nearly covered, and my boat would be dashed to pieces, if we
have much of a squall."
"Do you think there is any danger?" asked the fair maiden, who was
deeply impressed by the earnest manner of the boatman.
"I hope not," replied he, more cheerfully, for he did not wish to alarm
her. "If I can only get into Dipper Bay, which is hardly half a mile
from here, we shall be all right; and we may have time to run into the
river."
Dipper Bay was a little inlet, almost landlocked, in which the water was
deep enough to float his sloop at this time of tide, and its high rocky
shores would afford him a perfect protection from the fury of any
squall, or even hurricane. But Leopold felt that his chances of reaching
this secure haven were but small, for the breeze was very light.
The Rosabel was but a short distance from the shore when the wind
entirely subsided, and the long rollers were as smooth as glass. The
lightning glared with fearful intensity, and the thunder boomed like the
convulsions of an earthquake. By this time Rosabel, who had before
enjoyed the sublimity of the coming storm, now began to realize its
terrors, and to watch the handsome boatman with the deepest anxiety.
The sails flapped idly in the motionless air, and Dipper Bay was still
half a mile distant.
"Don't be alarmed, Miss Hamilton," said Leopold, as he threw off his
coat and vest, dropped his suspenders from his shoulders, and rolled up
his shirt sleeves above the elbows. "If the squall will keep off only a
few moments, we shall be in a safe place."
The skipper evidently "meant business;" and, shipping the long oars, he
worked with a zeal which seemed to promise happy results, and Rosabel
began to feel a little reassured. But the sloop was too large and too
broad on the beam to be easily rowed, and her progress was necessarily
very slow.
"Can't I help you, Leopold?" asked the maiden, when she saw what a
tremendous effort the boatman was making.
"You may take the tiller and steer for Dip Point, if you please,"
replied Leopold, knowing that his beautiful passenger would be better
satisfied if she could feel that she was doing something.
Leopold plied his oars with all the vigor of a manly frame, intent upon
reaching the little bay, where the high rocks would shelter his craft
from the fury of the storm. Then a breeze of wind came and he resumed
his place at the tiller. He had almost reached the haven when he saw
coming down over the waters a most terrific squall. Before he could haul
down his mainsail, the tempest struck the Rosabel. He placed his fair
charge in the bottom of the boat, which the savage wind was driving
towards the dangerous rocks. Before he could do anything to secure the
sail, the main-sheet parted at the boom. He cast off the halyards; but
the sail was jammed, and would not come down.
The Rosabel was almost upon the rocks. Seizing an oar, Leopold,
satisfied that he could do nothing to save the boat, worked her away
from the rocks, so that she would strike upon the narrow beach he had
just left. The fierce squall was hurling her with mad speed upon the
shore. By the most tremendous exertion, and at the imminent peril of his
life, he succeeded in guiding her to the beach, upon which she struck
with prodigious force, crushing in her keel and timbers beneath the
shock. Without a word of explanation, he grasped the fair Rosabel in
his arms, and leaped into the angry surges, which were driven high upon
the rocks above him. The tide had risen so that there was hardly room
under the cliff for him to stand; but he bore her to this only partial
refuge from the fury of the storm.
The tempest increased in violence, and the huge billows rolled in with
impetuous fury upon him. Grasping his fair burden in his arms, with
Rosabel clinging to him in mortal terror, he paused a moment to look at
the angry sea. There was a narrow shelf of rock near him, against which
the waves beat with terrible violence. If he could only get beyond this
shelf, which projected out from the cliffs, he could easily reach the
Hole in the Wall, where Harvey Barth had saved himself in just such a
storm. He had borne Rosabel some distance along the beach, both drenched
by the lashing spray, and his strength was nearly exhausted. The
projecting shelf was before him, forbidding for the moment his further
progress.
[Illustration: THE COMING WAVE. Page 345].
Placing his left foot on a rock, his fair but heavy burden on his knee,
clasping her waist with his left hand, while his right was fastened for
support in a crevice of the cliff, he paused for an instant to recover
his breath, and watch for a favorable chance to escape from his perilous
position. Rosabel, in her terror, had thrown her arms around his neck,
clinging to him with all her might. When he paused, she felt, reposing
on his powerful muscles, that she was safe--she confessed it afterwards;
though, in that terrible sea, and near those cruel rocks, the strength
of the strongest man was but weakness. Leopold waited. If the sea would
only recede for an instant, it would give him the opportunity to reach
the broader beach beyond the shelf, over which he could pass to the Hole
in the Wall. It was a moment of hope, mingled with a mighty fear.
A huge billow, larger than any he had yet seen, was rolling in upon him,
crested and reeking with foam, and might dash him and his feeble charge,
mangled and torn, upon the jagged rocks. Still panting from the violence
of his exertion, he braced his nerves and his stout frame to meet the
terrible shock.
With every muscle strained to the utmost tension, he waited THE COMING
WAVE. In this attitude, with the helpless maiden clinging to him for
life, with the wreck of his fine yacht near, he was a noble subject for
an inspired artist.
The coming wave buried him and the fair maiden in its cold embrace. It
broke, and shattered itself in torrents of milky foam upon the hard
rocks. But the larger and higher the wave, the farther it recedes.
Leopold stood firm, though he was shaken in every fiber of his frame by
the shock. The retiring water--retiring only for an instant, to come
again with even greater fury--gave him his opportunity, and he improved
it. Swooping like a strong eagle, beneath the narrow shelf of rock, he
gained the broader sands beyond the reach of the mad billows. It blew a
hurricane for some time. The stranded yacht was ground into little
pieces by the sharp rocks; but her skipper and his fair passenger were
safe.
On the identical flat rock in the Hole in the Wall where the steward of
the Waldo had seated himself, after the wreck, Leopold placed his
precious burden. He sat down by her side, utterly exhausted, and unable
to speak. He breathed very hardly, groaning heavily at each
respiration, for he had exerted himself to the verge of human endurance.
"O, Leopold," gasped poor Rosabel, gazing with tender interest upon her
preserver, "you have saved me, but you have killed yourself!"
The gallant young man tried to speak, but he could only smile in his
agony. Taking her hand, he pressed it, to indicate his satisfaction at
what he had done.
"What shall I do?" cried the poor girl.
Leopold could only press her hand again; but she felt that she must do
something for him. Throwing off her wet gloves, she began to rub his
temples, to which he did not object. But in a few minutes more he was
able to speak.
"I am only tired," gasped the boatman. "I shall be all right in a few
moments."
Then the rain began to pour down in torrents. Leopold rose from the
rock, and conducted Rosabel to an overhanging cliff, in the ravine,
which partially sheltered them from the storm. The wind continued to
howl, as though the squall had ended in a gale; but the rain soon ceased
to fall, and Leopold helped his fair companion to the summit of the
cliff.
"There is nothing left of the Rosabel," said Leopold, as he gazed down
upon the white-capped billows which lashed the jagged rocks below. "She
went to pieces like an egg-shell."
"Never mind the boat, Leopold. I am so thankful that our lives were
spared," replied Rosabel.
"O, I don't care for the boat. I only thank God that you were saved. I
thought we should both be dashed in pieces on the rocks."
"I should have been, if you had not been so strong and brave, Leopold.
You might have left me, and saved yourself, without much trouble."
"Left you!" exclaimed Leopold, gazing into her beautiful face. "I would
rather have been ground up into inch pieces on the rocks, than do that,
Miss Hamilton!"
Rosabel believed him, and the tears flowed down her cheeks, as she
brushed away from her eyes the auburn locks, soaked with salt water, and
gazed into his earnest, manly face.
Before the storm had subsided, the Orion, bearing the agonized parents,
was floundering in the billows off High Rock, with only a close-reefed
foresail set. Leopold and Rosabel both made signals, to assure the
father and mother of their safety. An hour later, when the waters were
comparatively still, there was a joyous scene in the cabin of the Orion.
Hot tears dropped from the eyes of father and mother, and convulsive
embraces were exchanged. Leopold's right hand was nearly twisted off by
the overjoyed parents and friends of her who had been saved from the
Coming Wave.
The yacht sailed into the river again, and on the passage, Leopold,
assisted by Rosabel, related all the particulars of the loss of the
Rosabel, and of their narrow escape from the rocks and the billows on
the beach under High Rock.
If Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton had before regarded Leopold, in any sense, as a
servant, or even a boatman, they no longer considered him as anything
but a social equal, a noble and dear friend, who had risked his life to
save their beloved daughter. If they were grateful and devoted to him,
not less so was Rosabel herself.
The party stayed a fortnight at the Sea Cliff House, and enjoyed
themselves even more than during the preceding season. Every pleasant
day a party went out in the Orion, and, having no boat of his own now,
Leopold was glad to go with them. On the day after the storm, the mate
of the yacht had left Rockhaven for New York, and the late skipper of
the Rosabel was requested to perform his duty on board, which he did to
the entire satisfaction of Captain Bounce. After the mate had been
absent a week, the mate _pro tem._ of the Orion, as the yacht was
running out of the river, discovered a small sloop, headed for the
light. Her hull and her sails were intensely white. She was a beautiful
craft, and appeared to be entirely new. She was evidently a yacht, and
Leopold knew that she did not belong to any of the places in the lower
bay. The word was passed aft that a yacht was approaching, and all the
passengers came forward to see her.
"That's her, Mr. Hamilton," said Captain Bounce, mysteriously after a
little talk with his owner.
"Where is she from?" asked Leopold.
"New York," replied the ex-congressman, chuckling.
"What's her name?"
"The Rosabel."
"I didn't know there was any craft with that name, except mine," replied
Leopold, as Rosabel placed herself by his side.
"She is new, and has not had that name more than a week," added Mr.
Hamilton.
"Whom does she belong to?" inquired Leopold.
"She belongs to Leopold Bennington now."
This announcement was followed by a silvery laugh from the merchant's
daughter.
"She is to take the place of the boat you lost."
"Here's a go!" grinned Stumpy, who was doing duty on board as assistant
steward.
"We don't care to mystify you, Leopold," laughed Mr. Hamilton. "The mate
of the Orion is in charge of her. She is a new boat, finished just
before I left New York, and offered for sale. On the day after you lost
your sloop, I sent the mate to purchase her for you. There she is, and
she is yours. You can go on board of her now, if you please."
"Let me go, too," interposed Rosabel.
The new yacht came up into the wind, when the Orion did so, and one of
the boats of the latter conveyed Rosabel, Leopold, and Stumpy to the
sloop, bringing back the mate and the man who had come with him from New
York. The new Rosabel was thirty-two feet long, with a large cabin,
furnished with berths, and a cook-room forward. Leopold and Stumpy were
enraptured with the craft, and looked her over with the utmost delight.
They followed the Orion all day, and kept up with her, for the new
Rosabel was even faster than the old one.
But our story is nearly told, and we cannot follow these pleasant
parties on their excursions on the bay. Leopold and Stumpy sailed the
new Rosabel the rest of the season, and the money flowed freely into
their separate treasuries. The Sea Cliff House prospered beyond the
expectation of the landlord, and he was abundantly able to pay off the
mortgage on the hotel when it was due. Squire Moses dropped dead one day
in a fit of apoplexy, and, having neglected to make a will, as he had
often declared that he intended to do, his property was equally divided
among his heirs. Stumpy found his mother independent by this event, but
he continued to sail with Leopold in the Rosabel.
The next winter after the stirring incidents at High Rock, Leopold went
to New York on a visit, and was heartily welcomed by the Hamiltons, who
treated him with as much consideration as though he had been a foreign
duke. Rosabel was delighted to see him, we need not add. The result of
this visit was, that the merchant invited Leopold to take a position in
his mercantile establishment, to which his father reluctantly consented.
Stumpy took his place as boatman for the Sea Cliff House.
Leopold gave his whole energy to business, and when he was only
twenty-two he was admitted as a partner to the firm. He was a
splendid-looking fellow and no one would have suspected, after noting
his elegant appearance, his fine manners, and his energetic business
habits that he was not an original New Yorker. Of course he made
frequent visits to the house of Mr. Hamilton, and was always a welcome
guest. His relations with Rosabel were of the most interesting
character; and now at twenty-six, he is a happy husband, educated and
wealthy, and, with his wife to nerve his soul, he stands braced against
the Coming Wave of Temptation and Sin, which is always rolling in upon
the pilgrim of earth.
OLIVER OPTIC'S BOOKS.
IN DOORS AND OUT:
OR,
VIEWS FROM A CHIMNEY CORNER.
12mo. Numerous Illustrations, $1.50.
* * * * *
Differing from other books of this popular author in that it Is intended
for adult readers, while the others are written for young people.
It contains about thirty bright and interesting stories of a domestic
order, directed against the follies and foibles of the age. They are
written in a kindly, genial style, and with a sincere purpose to promote
happiness, good feeling, and right dealing in domestic, business, and
social relations.
Many who have not time and patience to wade through a long story, will
find here many pithy and sprightly tales, each sharply hitting some
social absurdity or social vice. We recommend the book heartily after
having read the three chapters on "Taking a Newspaper." If all the rest
are as sensible and interesting as these, and doubtless they are, the
book is well worthy of patronage.--_Vermont Record._
As a writer of domestic stories, Mr. William T. Adams (Oliver Optic)
made his mark even before he became so immensely popular through his
splendid books for the young. In the volume before us are given several
of these tales, and they comprise a book which will give them a
popularity greater than they have ever before enjoyed. They are written
in a spirited style, impart valuable practical lessons, and are of the
most lively interest. We have seen these stories likened to Arthur's
domestic tales; but while they instil equally as valuable lessons, we
think them written with much more force and spirit.--_Boston Home
Journal._
YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD.
SECOND SERIES.
A Library of Travel and Adventure In Foreign Lands, 16mo.
Illustrated by Nast, Stevens, Perkins, and others.
Per volume, $1.50.
* * * * *
1. UP THE BALTIC;
Or, Young America in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.
2. NORTHERN LANDS;
Or, Young America in Russia and Prussia.
3. CROSS AND CRESCENT;
Or, Young America in Turkey and Greece.
4. SUNNY SHORES;
Or, Young America in Italy and Austria.
5. VINE AND OLIVE;
Or, Young America in Spain and Portugal.
6. ISLES OF THE SEA;
Or, Young America Homeward Bound.
"Oliver Optic" is a _nom de plume_ that is known and loved by almost
every boy of intelligence in the land. We have seen a highly
intellectual and world-weary man, a cynic whose heart was somewhat
imbittered by its large experience of human nature, take up one of
Oliver Optic's books and read it at a sitting, neglecting his work in
yielding to the fascination of the pages. When a mature and exceedingly
well-informed mind, long despoiled of all its freshness, can thus find
pleasure in a book for boys, no additional words of recommendation are
needed.--_Sunday Times._
YOUNG AMERICA ABROAD.
FIRST SERIES.
A Library of Travel and Adventure In Foreign Lands. 16mo.
Illustrated by Nast, Stevens, Perkins, and others.
Per volume, $1.50.
1. OUTWARD BOUND;
Or, Young America Afloat.
2. SHAMROCK AND THISTLE;
Or, Young America in Ireland and Scotland.
3. RED CROSS;
Or, Young America in England and Wales.
4. DIKES AND DITCHES;
Or, Young America in Holland and Belgium.
5. PALACE AND COTTAGE;
Or, Young America in France and Switzerland.
6. DOWN THE RHINE;
Or, Young America in Germany.
* * * * *
The story from its inception and through the twelve volumes (see _Second
Series_), is a bewitching one, while the information imparted,
concerning the countries of Europe and the isles of the sea, is not only
correct in every particular, but is told in a captivating style. "Oliver
Optic" will continue to be the boy's friend, and his pleasant books will
continue to be read by thousands of American boys. What a fine holiday
present either or both series of "Young America Abroad" would be for a
young friend! It would make a little library highly prized by the
recipient, and would not be an expensive one.--_Providence Press._
THE GREAT WESTERN SERIES.
Six Volumes, Illustrated, Per vol., $1.50.
1. GOING WEST;
Or, The Perils of a Poor Boy.
2. OUT WEST;
Or, Roughing it on the Great Lakes.
3. LAKE BREEZES;
Or, The Cruise of the Sylvania.
4. GOING SOUTH;
Or, Yachting on the Atlantic Coast.
5. DOWN SOUTH;
Or, Yacht Adventures in Florida. (In Press.)
6. UP THE RIVER;
Or, Yachting on the Mississippi. (In Press.)
* * * * *
This is the latest series of books issued by this popular writer, and
deals with Life on the Great Lakes, for which a careful study was made
by the author in a summer tour of the immense water sources of America.
The story, which carries the same hero through the six books of the
series, is always entertaining, novel scenes and varied incidents giving
a constantly changing, yet always attractive aspect to the narrative.
"Oliver Optic" has written nothing better.
WOODVILLE STORIES.
Uniform with Library for Young People. Six vols, 16mo. Illustrated.
Per vol., $1.25.
1. RICH AND HUMBLE;
Or, The Mission of Bertha Grant.
2. IN SCHOOL AND OUT;
Or, The Conquest of Richard Grant.
3. WATCH AND WAIT;
Or, The Young Fugitives.
4. WORK AND WIN;
Or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise.
5. HOPE AND HAVE;
Or, Fanny Grant among the Indians.
6. HASTE AND WASTE;
Or, The Young Pilot of Lake Champlain.
* * * * *
Though we are not so young as we once were, we relished these stories
almost as much as the boys and girls for whom they were written. They
were really refreshing even to us. There is much in them which is
calculated to inspire a generous, healthy ambition, and to make
distasteful all reading tending to stimulate base desires.--_Fitchburg
Reveille._
FOR ADULT READERS.
LIVING TOO FAST;
OR,
THE CONFESSIONS OF A BANK OFFICER
12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. $1.50.
* * * * *
This is a most entertaining story, and it also carries with it an
excellent moral, self-evident to almost any reader. It is beautifully
printed and graphically illustrated. The scene of the story is laid in
Boston; and the author's experience with his mother-in-law is very
readable, as is also his reckless expenditures for his wife's sake, he
harboring a false pride which inclined him to think that keeping up
appearances was nearly the whole life. _If you want to place a
thoroughly entertaining and profitable book in your library, do not fail
to send to the publishers of this charming story, who will promptly
furnish it on receipt of the price._--_Boston Cultivator._
"Here is the last and best work of that instructive author. It is full
of incidents of a fast life, the expedients to keep up appearances,
resulting in crime, remorse, and the evil opinion of all good men. The
narrative is replete with startling situations, temptations, and all
that makes up a thrilling story, in the semblance of an autobiography
well rendered, sprightly, pathetic, with a dash of sensation.