THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER
MARY WELSH and Mamie, hurrying with anxious hearts and pallid cheeks,
not daring to think of what awaited them, toward Chestnut’s drugstore,
in answer to Jack’s summons, were met outside the little triangular
frame building from which the drugstore stared out upon the tracks, by
Jack himself, his face gray and lined with suffering and
self-accusation.
“Wait a minute,” he said, hoarsely, and Mary, reading the suffering in
his eyes, put her hand quickly upon his arm.
“How is he?”
“I don’t know yet. The doctor’s just finishin’ with him.”
And then his self-control gave way, and a great sob shook him.
“A nice guardeen I am, ain’t I?” he asked, bitterly. “Oh, I could go an’
throw myself under the wheels of that engine there!”
“Don’t, Jack!” protested Mary, quickly. “Don’t take it so. Whatever
happened wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was! I stood by like a dumb beast an’ let Hummel—Kin ye ever
forgive me, Mamie? Oh, but I’m shamed t’ look ye in the eyes!”
“Forgive you, dad?” cried the girl, her heart smitten as she looked at
him. “Why, dad, there’s nothing to forgive. I know you did your best.”
“Not like Reddy Magraw,” said Jack, the tears streaming down his face.
“Not like Reddy Magraw. Do you know what he did—he saw that varmint
fumblin’ at his pocket, an’ he must have guessed what was comin’—I was
lookin’, too, but I never thought of nothin’ like that—an’ Reddy jumped
fer him an’ grabbed him—an’ jest then the bomb went off—”
“He’s dead, ain’t he, Jack?” asked Mary.
“Yes,” said Jack, with a hoarse sob, “an’ so’s Reddy Magraw—an’ if our
boy lives, it’ll be because of Reddy, not because o’ me. That’s what it
makes me sick t’ think of!”
“Reddy dead!” gasped Mary, the tears starting to her eyes. “Does—”
“No,” said Jack. “You’ll have t’ tell her. I couldn’t to save my soul.”
“I’ll tell her,” said Mary, quietly. “She’ll be proud when she knows.”
And then the door opened and they saw the doctor standing on the
threshold.
“Come in,” he said softly. “You can see him now; and it’s all right.”
“You mean he ain’t dead?” asked Jack.
“No, nor going to die. Is this Mamie?” he added, turning to the young
woman.
“Yes,” she answered.
“He’s been asking for you. He mustn’t be excited,” he added, looking at
the others. “Is it necessary that you see him?”
Mary gulped back the indignant words which rose to her lips. Necessary
that she see her boy!
“No,” she said, steadily. “We’ll jest excite him. You go, Mamie. Jack’ll
wait fer ye,” and she held Jack by the hand until Mamie had entered and
the door had closed behind her.
“It’s her place, not mine,” she said. “An’ now I’ll go over t’ the
Magraws.”
“Mary,” said Jack, hoarsely, and put his arm around her, “you’re the
bravest little woman I iver knew. I’m proud of ye.”
But Mary felt anything but brave as, in the gray light of the dawn, she
slowly crossed the tracks and mounted the path to the door of the little
house. For, after all, what could she say to lighten the force of the
blow? What could anyone say? Suppose it was some one else coming to tell
her of Jack? She caught her breath sharply—
And then she was conscious that the door was open and when she looked
up, she saw Mrs. Magraw standing there and gazing down at her, a strange
light in her eyes.
“Come in,” she said, and led the way into the little parlour, from
which, during the night, she had watched the flames across the yards. “I
knowed ye’d come,” she added. “I knowed ye’d want t’ be the one t’ tell
me—an’ I thank ye, Mary Welsh.”
“You—you know?” gasped Mary, staring at her. “Somebody’s told you?”
“No, nobody’s told me; but I know. I knowed when I saw him goin’ away
that he was niver comin’ back.”
“An’ you let him go?”
“Yes, I sent him.”
“Sent him?”
“T’ guard the boy? Did he guard him?”
And Mary Welsh flung herself upon her knees before the other woman and
buried her face in her lap.
“He did!” she said, thickly. “With his life.”
* * * * *
Mr. Schofield, relieved of the stress of duty at Cincinnati, arrived at
Wadsworth on the early train next day, and at once took charge of the
situation. There was much to do. The whole train-service of the road had
to be reorganized, the ravelled ends gathered up again, the
freight-house rebuilt, traffic provided for; and for four days and
nights he thought of nothing else. Then, the first strain past, he put
on his hat one afternoon, and started back over the yards to a little
house which stood high on an embankment facing them.
He climbed the steep path, and paused for a moment to look down over the
yards before knocking at the door. His eyes gleamed with pride as he
watched the busy engines, the assembled cars, the evidences of orderly
and busy life.
Then he turned and knocked. An Irish woman well past middle-age, and
with hair snowy white, opened the door.
“Mrs. Magraw?” asked the visitor.
“Yis, sir.”
“My name’s Schofield.”
“I know ye, sir,” said Mrs. Magraw, quietly. “This ain’t the first toime
ye’ve been to see me.”
“No—but that was a good many years ago. If you don’t mind, I’ll sit down
here on the porch. I want to talk to you.”
“All right, sir,” said Mrs. Magraw, and tried to dust off the bench, but
Mr. Schofield was too quick for her.
“I’ve heard how your husband died,” he began gently, “and I want to say
this: no man ever died a nobler death.”
“I’m proud of him, sir,” said Mrs. Magraw, her eyes filling with tears.
“I’m prouder of him than I kin say.”
“We’re all proud of him. I’ve been proud of him for many years. It isn’t
the first time he’s proved the stuff he was made of.”
Mrs. Magraw nodded.
“But there’s no use for me to tell you that,” went on the
superintendent. “You knew him better than I did. Now here’s what I’ve
come to say. The road has pensioned you for life. You will receive a
check every month for thirty dollars.”
“Thirty dollars!” echoed Mrs. Magraw. “Why, sir,—”
“I know it isn’t very much—”
“Very much! It’s all the difference between starvin’ an’ livin’, sir.”
“I’m glad of that. How old is your oldest boy?”
“Thirteen, sir.”
“What do you want him to be?”
“Well, sir, he seems to have a taste fer mechanics.”
“All right; there’s a job waiting for him, and for all the other boys
when they’re old enough. The road wants to make life just as easy for
you as it can, Mrs. Magraw; and even at that, it feels that it has done
mighty little—so little that I was almost ashamed to come here to-day
and tell you. It’s not in any sense intended as a recompense—don’t think
it.”
“I understand, sir,” said Mrs. Magraw, and there was in her face a sweet
dignity. “An’ I’ve had my recompense—with the flowers an’ the men at the
funeral—the shop-men, sir, an’ the brotherhood—stretchin’ clear out t’
the street yonder, an’ cryin’, sir, as if ’twas their own brother—”
She stopped, her eyes gleaming.
“He was the brother of every one of us,” he said; and added, soberly, “I
wish I was as good a man!”
Mrs. Magraw watched him as he crossed the yards; watched him till a
corner of the round-house hid him from view; then she turned slowly back
into the house, her face shining.
“Oh, Reddy,” she said hoarsely to herself; “it’s a proud woman I am this
day; proud fer ye—proud fer ye—oh, an’ heart-broken, too.”
* * * * *
The next afternoon, Mr. Schofield called up Jack Welsh’s residence.
“How’s Allan getting along?” he asked of the woman’s voice which
answered the phone.
“He’s gittin’ along as well as could be expected.”
“Is he able to sit up?”
“Yes, sir; he sets up a little every day.”
“This is Schofield talking. I wonder if I could see him this afternoon?”
“Yes, sir; I guess so,” answered the voice, but without enthusiasm.
“Well, tell him I’ll be down in about an hour—and if he can’t see me yet
awhile, let me know.
“All right, sir.”
“It’s Mister Schofield wantin’ to see you,” Mary announced to Allan,
three minutes later. “Says he’ll be here in an hour. Hadn’t I better
tell him you ain’t able?”
“Oh, I guess I’m able,” said Allan, smiling up at her.
He was lying back in a great chair, with Mamie beside him.
“Well, it’s time he was askin’ after ye.”
“He’s been pretty busy, I suspect.”
Mary snorted.
“A good excuse! An’ I know what he’s comin’ fer.”
“What?” asked Allan, smiling broadly.
“He’ll be wantin’ to know when you’re comin’ back to work.”
“And I’ll tell him Monday.”
“Monday, indeed,” cried Mary and Mamie both.
“Why, I’m all right again,” Allan protested. “A little shaky and scary,
but I’ll get over that.”
“Well, we’ll see about it,” said Mamie, in a tone which told that she
was far from being convinced.
Mrs. Welsh went about her household work, leaving the two together, and
presently there came the expected knock at the door.
But when she opened it, it was not Mr. Schofield alone who stood there.
With him was a man with blue eyes and light hair and flowing blonde
moustache whom Mrs. Welsh had never seen before.
“How do you do, Mrs. Welsh,” said Mr. Schofield, shaking hands with her.
“This is Mr. Round,” he added, and Mr. Round also shook hands. “Can we
see the invalid?”
“Ye-yes, sir,” stammered Mary, more overwhelmed than she had ever been
in her life. “Right up these stairs, sir.”
She led the way and ushered them into Allan’s room.
He started and flushed when he saw who Mr. Schofield’s companion was.
“No,” said Mr. Schofield, smiling at Mrs. Welsh, “I didn’t come this
time to ask you when you’re coming back to work; but to say good-bye.”
“Good-bye?” echoed Allan. “You’re not going away?”
“He’s got too big for us,” said Mr. Round. “I’ve been afraid of it for a
long time. Let me introduce you to the new general superintendent of the
Rock Island.”
“What!” cried Allan, his face beaming. “Oh, but I’m glad!” and he held
out his hand eagerly. “Sorry, too,” he added. “You’ve been one of the
best friends I ever had.”
“And always will be,” said Mr. Schofield heartily. “We’re all proud of
you, Allan. Let me see, how old are you?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Rather young for train master,” said Mr. Round, looking at him
quizzically.
“Train master?” Allan echoed, suddenly white.
“Though we’ll try you, anyway,” and Mr. Round smiled broadly. “That is,
if you accept.”
“Why,” stammered Allan, “I can’t—I don’t—”
“Don’t try. There’s no hurry, either. You know what I said to you about
a vacation?”
“Yes,” said Allan.
“And you said something about a honeymoon.”
Mamie flushed crimson, and even Allan reddened a little.
“Is this the young lady?” asked Mr. Round, looking at Mamie approvingly.
“Yes,” said Allan. “Mamie—Miss Welsh.”
“I congratulate you, my dear,” said Mr. Round, shaking her kindly by the
hand. “I’ve heard of that exploit of yours. The road is your debtor more
than I can say. I hate to think what would have happened if it hadn’t
been for you.”
“I take the credit of this match,” added Mr. Schofield, laughing. “I
told Allan it was the only proper thing to do.”
“I’d already arrived at the same conclusion,” said Allan, “and we’d just
settled it when you called up.”
“Well,” said Mr. Round, with another glance at Mamie’s rosy face, “I
think you’re to be congratulated too, Allan. You seem to have a knack of
falling on your feet. When is it to take place?”
“Next month,” answered Allan, boldly, without even glancing at Mamie.
That young lady opened her lips and stared at him in astonishment, but
closed them again without speaking.
“Where are you going for the honeymoon?”
“Oh, we haven’t decided. We haven’t much money to spend on a honeymoon,
you know.”
“Have you thought of California?”
“Of California? No, nor of the moon,” answered Allan, with a laugh.
“Palm Beach, maybe, if we can get transportation.”
“Oh, I guess you can,” said Mr. Round, with a little laugh. “But I’m
sorry you hadn’t thought of California. You see, when you spoke of the
honeymoon, I thought a little trip through the west would be just the
thing, so I pulled a few wires, and here,” he put his hand in his pocket
and brought out a thick envelope, “is the result. What shall I do with
it?”
“What is it?” asked Allan and Mamie in the same breath.
“An order from the President to place my private car at your disposal
for a month—transportation over the Southern Pacific going and the
Northern Pacific returning—what do you say, children?”
What could they say!
With a chuckle of sheer enjoyment, Mr. Round tossed the envelope into
Allan’s lap.
“Mind you ask me to the wedding,” he said, and caught up his hat. “Come
on, Schofield. We’re in the way.”
* * * * *
“How do you know I’m going to marry you next month?” demanded Mamie.
“I know you are—you can’t refuse—it might send me into a decline.”
“Decline, indeed,” sniffed Mamie.
“I knew you wouldn’t!” laughed Allan.
Mamie laughed too, and kissed him.
“Don’t you feel like a fairy god-child?” she asked. “I do.”
“What day is it?” he asked, suddenly.
“The fifteenth.”
“Then to-morrow’s Betty Heywood’s wedding—and I can’t be there—I haven’t
even sent a gift. What will she think of me?”
“Write and tell her,” suggested Mamie, and Allan did—told her more,
perhaps, than Mamie intended he should; and the answer came promptly two
days later.
“Dear Allan,” it ran, “Your letter was the dearest wedding gift of
all; to know that you had found the right girl and that you are
happy was just the one thing needed to give the crowning touch to my
own happiness. So you see that I was right! I’ve never doubted it
for an instant, but just the same I’m glad it’s proved. I’m
scribbling this at the last moment, for your letter just came;
there’s the wedding march—I must go. I’m very, very happy, Allan,
and I suppose that this is the last time I shall ever sign myself
BETTY HEYWOOD.”
Allan looked up from the letter, his eyes shining.
“She’s a dear girl,” he said.
“Yes,” agreed Mamie, a little doubtfully.
“But not the dearest,” added Allan smiling. “Come here. Look what a
beautiful sunset. Look at those crimson clouds along the horizon.”
“Who is the dearest?” asked Mamie, refusing to be led aside from the
question under discussion. “Can’t you guess?”
“I’m not good at guessing.”
“It’s the same one I jerked from in front of an engine years and years
ago; the same one I used to do sums for; the same one who saved my life
just the other day. Now can you guess?”
“Yes,” said Mamie, dimpling and snuggling close to him; “yes, I think I
can!”
* * * * *
And so we leave them.
What does the future hold? For one thing, be sure that it holds
happiness. Be sure, too, that the young train master will not always be
merely that. He can afford to wait—to grow and broaden, to learn his
business thoroughly; but the time will come when he will step up and up.
Yet, however high he climbs, those first years, whose history we know,
will be a sweet and ever-present memory, as years of trial always are
when one has emerged from them triumphant.
THE END.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
=BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE=
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THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS
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Translated from the French by MARY J. SAFFORD.
Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors by
Edna M. Sawyer $1.00
“An up-to-date French fairy tale which fairly radiates the spirit of the
hour,—unceasing diligence.”—_Chicago Record-Herald._
=O-HEART-SAN=
THE STORY OF A JAPANESE GIRL. By HELEN EGGLESTON HASKELL.
Small quarto, cloth decorative, illustrated and decorated in colors by
Frank P. Fairbanks $1.00
“The story comes straight from the heart of Japan. The shadow of
Fujiyama lies across it and from every page breathes the fragrance of
tea leaves, cherry blossoms and chrysanthemums.”—_The Chicago
Inter-Ocean._
=THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND=: OR, THE ADVENTURES OF ALLAN WEST. By BURTON E.
STEVENSON.
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
Mr. Stevenson’s hero is a manly lad of sixteen, who is given a chance as
a section-hand on a big Western railroad, and whose experiences are as
real as they are thrilling.
=THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER.= By BURTON E. STEVENSON.
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
“A better book for boys has never left an American press.”—_Springfield
Union._
=THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER.= By BURTON E. STEVENSON.
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
“Nothing better in the way of a book of adventure for boys in which the
actualities of life are set forth in a practical way could be devised or
written.”—_Boston Herald._
=CAPTAIN JACK LORIMER.= By WINN STANDISH.
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
Jack is a fine example of the all-around American high-school boy.
=JACK LORIMER’S CHAMPIONS=: OR, SPORTS ON LAND AND LAKE. By WINN
STANDISH.
Square 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
“It is exactly the sort of book to give a boy interested in athletics,
for it shows him what it means to always ‘play fair’”—_Chicago Tribune._
=JACK LORIMER’S HOLIDAYS=: OR, MILLVALE HIGH IN CAMP. By WINN STANDISH.
Illustrated $1.50
Full of just the kind of fun, sports and adventure to excite the healthy
minded youngster to emulation.
=JACK LORIMER’S SUBSTITUTE=: OR, THE ACTING CAPTAIN OF THE TEAM. By WINN
STANDISH.
Illustrated $1.50
On the sporting side, this book takes up football, wrestling,
tobogganing, but it is more of a _school_ story perhaps than any of its
predecessors.
=CAPTAIN JINKS=: THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A SHETLAND PONY. By FRANCES HODGES
WHITE.
Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
The story of Captain Jinks and his faithful dog friend Billy, their
quaint conversations and their exciting adventures, will be eagerly read
by thousands of boys and girls. The story is beautifully written and
will take its place alongside of “Black Beauty” and “Beautiful Joe.”
=THE RED FEATHERS.= By THEODORE ROBERTS.
Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
“The Red Feathers” tells of the remarkable adventures of an Indian boy
who lived in the Stone Age, many years ago, when the world was young.
=FLYING PLOVER.= By THEODORE ROBERTS.
Cloth decorative. Illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull $1.00
Squat-By-The-Fire is a very old and wise Indian who lives alone with her
grandson, “Flying Plover,” to whom she tells the stories each evening.
=THE WRECK OF THE OCEAN QUEEN.= By JAMES OTIS, author of “Larry Hudson’s
Ambition,” etc.
Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
“A stirring story of wreck and mutiny, which boys will find especially
absorbing. The many young admirers of James Otis will not let this book
escape them, for it fully equals its many predecessors in excitement and
sustained interest.”—_Chicago Evening Post._
=LITTLE WHITE INDIANS.= By FANNIE E. OSTRANDER.
Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.25
“A bright, interesting story which will appeal strongly to the
‘make-believe’ instinct in children, and will give them a healthy,
active interest in ‘the simple life.’”
=MARCHING WITH MORGAN.= HOW DONALD LOVELL BECAME A SOLDIER OF THE
REVOLUTION. By JOHN L. VEASY.
Cloth decorative, illustrated $1.50
This is a splendid boy’s story of the expedition of Montgomery and
Arnold against Quebec.
COSY CORNER SERIES
It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall contain
only the very highest and purest literature,—stories that shall not only
appeal to the children themselves, but be appreciated by all those who
feel with them in their joys and sorrows.
The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known artists, and
each volume has a separate attractive cover design.
Each 1 vol., 16mo, cloth $0.50
_By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON_
=THE LITTLE COLONEL= (Trade Mark.)
The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine is a small
girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on account of her fancied
resemblance to an old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and
old family are famous in the region.
=THE GIANT SCISSORS=
This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in France. Joyce is a
great friend of the Little Colonel, and in later volumes shares with her
the delightful experiences of the “House Party” and the “Holidays.”
=TWO LITTLE KNIGHTS OF KENTUCKY= WHO WERE THE LITTLE COLONEL’S
NEIGHBORS.
In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an old friend, but
with added grace and charm. She is not, however, the central figure of
the story, that place being taken by the “two little knights.”
=MILDRED’S INHERITANCE=
A delightful little story of a lonely English girl who comes to America
and is befriended by a sympathetic American family who are attracted by
her beautiful speaking voice. By means of this one gift she is enabled
to help a school-girl who has temporarily lost the use of her eyes, and
thus finally her life becomes a busy, happy one.
=CICELY AND OTHER STORIES FOR GIRLS=
The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles will be glad to learn
of the issue of this volume for young people.
=AUNT ’LIZA’S HERO AND OTHER STORIES=
A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal to all boys
and most girls.
=BIG BROTHER=
A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Stephen, himself a small
boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of the simple tale.
=OLE MAMMY’S TORMENT=
“Ole Mammy’s Torment” has been fitly called “a classic of Southern
life.” It relates the haps and mishaps of a small negro lad, and tells
how he was led by love and kindness to a knowledge of the right.
=THE STORY OF DAGO=
In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, a pet monkey,
owned jointly by two brothers. Dago tells his own story, and the account
of his haps and mishaps is both interesting and amusing.
=THE QUILT THAT JACK BUILT=
A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and how it changed the
course of his life many years after it was accomplished.
=FLIP’S ISLANDS OF PROVIDENCE=
A story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat, and his final triumph,
well worth the reading.
_By EDITH ROBINSON_
=A LITTLE PURITAN’S FIRST CHRISTMAS=
A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christmas was invented
by Betty Sewall, a typical child of the Puritans, aided by her brother
Sam.
=A LITTLE DAUGHTER OF LIBERTY=
The author introduces this story as follows:
“One ride is memorable in the early history of the American Revolution,
the well-known ride of Paul Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is
another ride,—the ride of Anthony Severn,—which was no less historic in
its action or memorable in its consequences.”
=A LOYAL LITTLE MAID=
A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary days, in which the
child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders important services to George
Washington.
=A LITTLE PURITAN REBEL=
This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time when the
gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massachusetts.
=A LITTLE PURITAN PIONEER=
The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement at
Charlestown.
=A LITTLE PURITAN BOUND GIRL=
A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great interest to
youthful readers.
=A LITTLE PURITAN CAVALIER=
The story of a “Little Puritan Cavalier” who tried with all his boyish
enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and ideals of the dead Crusaders.
=A PURITAN KNIGHT ERRANT=
The story tells of a young lad in Colonial times who endeavored to carry
out the high ideals of the knights of olden days.
_By OUIDA_ (_Louise de la Ramee_)
=A DOG OF FLANDERS= A CHRISTMAS STORY
Too well and favorably known to require description.
=THE NURNBERG STOVE=
This beautiful story has never before been published at a popular price.
_By FRANCES MARGARET FOX_
=THE LITTLE GIANT’S NEIGHBOURS=
A charming nature story of a “little giant” whose neighbors were the
creatures of the field and garden.
=FARMER BROWN AND THE BIRDS=
A little story which teaches children that the birds are man’s best
friends.
=BETTY OF OLD MACKINAW=
A charming story of child life.
=BROTHER BILLY=
The story of Betty’s brother, and some further adventures of Betty
herself.
=MOTHER NATURE’S LITTLE ONES=
Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, or “childhood,”
of the little creatures out-of-doors.
=HOW CHRISTMAS CAME TO THE MULVANEYS=
A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor children with an
unlimited capacity for fun and mischief.
=THE COUNTRY CHRISTMAS=
Miss Fox has vividly described the happy surprises that made the
occasion so memorable to the Mulvaneys, and the funny things the
children did in their new environment.
_By MISS MULOCK_
=THE LITTLE LAME PRINCE=
A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures by means of
the magic gifts of his fairy god-mother.
=ADVENTURES OF A BROWNIE=
The story of a household elf who torments the cook and gardener, but is
a constant joy and delight to the children who love and trust him.
=HIS LITTLE MOTHER=
Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant source of
delight to them, and “His Little Mother,” in this new and attractive
dress, will be welcomed by hosts of youthful readers.
=LITTLE SUNSHINE’S HOLIDAY=
An attractive story of a summer outing. “Little Sunshine” is another of
those beautiful child-characters for which Miss Mulock is so justly
famous.
_By MARSHALL SAUNDERS_
=FOR HIS COUNTRY=
A sweet and graceful story of a little boy who loved his country;
written with that charm which has endeared Miss Saunders to hosts of
readers.
=NITA, THE STORY OF AN IRISH SETTER=
In this touching little book, Miss Saunders shows how dear to her heart
are all of God’s dumb creatures.
=ALPATOK, THE STORY OF AN ESKIMO DOG=
Alpatok, an Eskimo dog from the far north, was stolen from his master
and left to starve in a strange city, but was befriended and cared for,
until he was able to return to his owner.
_By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE_
=THE FARRIER’S DOG AND HIS FELLOW=
This story, written by the gifted young Southern woman, will appeal to
all that is best in the natures of the many admirers of her graceful and
piquant style.
=THE FORTUNES OF THE FELLOW=
Those who read and enjoyed the pathos and charm of “The Farrier’s Dog
and His Fellow” will welcome the further account of the adventures of
Baydaw and the Fellow at the home of the kindly smith.
=THE BEST OF FRIENDS=
This continues the experiences of the Farrier’s dog and his Fellow,
written in Mr. Dromgoole’s well-known charming style.
=DOWN IN DIXIE=
A fascinating story for boys and girls, of a family of Alabama children
who move to Florida and grow up in the South.
_By MARIAN W. WILDMAN_
=LOYALTY ISLAND=
An account of the adventures of four children and their pet dog on an
island, and how they cleared their brother from the suspicion of
dishonesty.
=THEODORE AND THEODORA=
This is a story of the exploits and mishaps of two mischievous twins,
and continues the adventures of the interesting group of children in
“Loyalty Island.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------
● Transcriber’s Notes:
○ Missing or obscured punctuation was corrected.
○ Unbalanced quotation marks were left as the author intended.
○ Typographical and hyphenation errors were silently corrected.
○ Dialect spelling was left as the author intended.
○ Spelling was made consistent when a predominant form was found in
this book; otherwise it was not changed.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Young Train Master, by Burton E. Stevenson