A little spring had lost its way amid the grass and fern; A passing stranger scooped a well, where weary men might turn; 5 He walled it in, and hung with care a ladle at the brink He thought not of the deed he did, but judged that toil might drink. He passed again, and lo! the well, by summers never 10 dried, Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues, and saved a life beside! A dreamer dropped a random thought, 'twas old, and yet 'twas new— 15 A simple fancy of the brain, but strong in being 20 true; It shone upon a genial mind, and lo! its light became It sheds its radiance far adown, and cheers the valley still! A nameless man, amid a crowd that thronged the daily mart, 25 Let fall a word of hope and love, unstudied, from the heart; A whisper on the tumult thrown-a transitory breath It raised a brother from the dust, it saved a soul from death. O germ! O fount! O word of love! O thought at random cast! Ye were but little at the first, but mighty at the last! CHARLES MACKAY. HOW ROGER REPAYS HIS MASTER. A mile or more beyond the spot where Gilbert Potter had been waylaid, there was a lonely tavern, called the "Drovers' Inn." Here he dismounted, more for his horse's sake than his own, although he was sore, weary, and sick of heart. After having 10 carefully groomed Roger with his own hands, and commended him to the special attentions of the ostler, he entered the warm public room, wherein three or four storm-bound drovers were gathered around the roaring fire of hickory logs. 15 The men kindly made way for the pale, dripping, wretched-looking stranger; and the landlord, with a shrewd glance and a suggestion of "Something hot, I reckon?" began mixing a compound proper for the occasion. Laying aside his wet cloak, which was 20 sent to the kitchen to be more speedily dried, Gilbert presently sat in a cloud of his own steaming garments, and felt the warmth of the potent liquor in his chilly blood. All at once, it occurred to him that the highway- 25 man had not touched his person. There was not only 5 5 some loose silver in his pockets, but Mark Deane's money-belt was still around his waist. So much, at least, was rescued, and he began to pluck up a little courage. Should he continue his journey to Chester, explain the misfortune to the holder of his mortgage, and give notice to the County Sheriff of this new act of robbery? Then the thought came into his mind that in that case he might be detained a day or two, in order to make depositions, or comply with some 10 unknown legal form. In the mean time the news would spread over the country, no doubt with many exaggerations, and might possibly reach Kennetteven the ears of his mother. That reflection decided his course. She must first hear the truth from his 15 mouth; he would try to give her cheer and encouragement, though he felt none himself; then, calling his friends together, he would hunt Sandy Flash like a wild beast until they had tracked him to his lair. "Unlucky weather for ye, it seems?" remarked 20 the curious landlord, who, seated in a corner of the fireplace, had for full ten minutes been watching Gilbert's knitted brows, gloomy, brooding eyes, and compressed lips. "Weather?' he exclaimed, bitterly. "It's not the 25 weather. Landlord, will you have a chance of sending to Chester to-morrow?" "I'm going, if it clears up," said one of the drovers. "Then, my friend," Gilbert continued, "will you 30 take a letter from me to the Sheriff?” If it's nothing out of the way," the man replied. "It's in the proper course of law-if there is any law to protect us. Not a mile and a half from here, landlord, I have been waylaid and robbed on the public road!" There was a general exclamation of surprise, and Gilbert's story, which he had suddenly decided to relate, in order that the people of the neighborhood might be put upon their guard, was listened to with an interest only less than the terror which it inspired. The landlady rushed into the bar-room, followed by the red-faced kitchen wench, and both interrupted the recital with cries of "Dear, dear!" and "Lord save us!" The landlord, meanwhile, had prepared another tumbler of hot and hot, and brought it forward, saying, "You need it, the Lord knows, and it shall cost you nothing." "What I most need now," Gilbert said, "is pen, ink, and paper, to write out my account. Then I suppose you can get me up a cold check, for I must start homewards soon." 5 10 15 20 'Not a cold check' after all that drenching and mishandling!" the landlord exclaimed. "We'll have a hot supper in half an hour, and you shall stay, and 25 welcome. Wife, bring down one of Liddy's pens, the schoolmaster made for her, and put a little vinegar into th' ink-bottle; it's most dried up!" In a few minutes the necessary materials for a letter, all of the rudest kind, were supplied, and the 30 |