were hunted with clubs, and coons were caught in steel traps. Squirrels generally visited the chopping in the daytime, and were killed with bows and arrows, and sometimes caught in box traps. All of these animals were considered good food.

Just before the frost came the corn was gathered and shucked, and afterwards husked and put into the granary. During the winter the felled trees were sometimes cut for firewood, and those remaining in the spring were "junked," as it was called, and rolled into immense piles and burned, after which a crop of rye or wheat was sown, and hacked in with hoes, the roots of the trees preventing the movement of the harrow. The process of "junking" was a tedious one, as the burnt logs soon covered the axe-handle with smut, drying up the skin of the hands so they would often crack

and bleed.

It is said that young Daniel disliked this toil very much, and was among the earliest to devise "niggering," as it was called. In this process a stick of wood was laid across the log and lighted with fire, so it would burn down through the larger log, when fanned by the breeze, cutting it in two.

In the early spring great preparation was made for tapping the maple-trees and boiling the sap down to sugar, which was always an agreeable employment for young Daniel. Another occupation of the boy on the farm was in weeding, pulling, and spreading flax, which boys generally dislike very much.

After sheep were introduced in this locality there was a general washing of them in the brook about the first of May, after which sheep-shearing came on.

Planting, hoeing, and haying was very hard work for the boys, and very few liked it. After the harvest something was done in lumbering, and the Websters, having a small saw-mill on their farm, made shingles and boards; although for many years shingles and clapboards were mostly split by hand. Daniel was peculiarly fond of hunting and fishing, a passion which lasted his whole lifetime. Minks, musk-rats, and now and then a fox, were caught in traps, though the latter was oftener shot. Small game, such as partridges and squirrels, were very plenty in the woods, and the skins of gray squirrels were most always used for winter caps for the boys. Larger game, like moose, deer, bears, wolves, and sometimes panthers, were taken.

The schooling of boys was often among these scenes, where at home the evenings were spent in studying by the light of a pitchpine knot.

Itinerant ministers, in those days, mostly supplied the rustic pulpit, and visited their scattered flocks through many miles of travel.

The boys were expected to be very decorous not only to the visiting ministers but to all older than themselves. Reverence was natural to Daniel Webster, and was not with him a mere matter of cultivation.

TO OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

ON HIS DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE.

Good Doctor, what has put it in your head
To sail away across the ocean blue?
Have you got tired of Boston? or, instead,
Do you mistrust that we are tired of you?

You wanted to see England, and you thought
That you might go for once in fifty years:
Well, your own way—just make your visit short;
So here's bon voyage, and also a few tears.

We hope that you will have a joyful time,

Meet hosts of friends, and sit at many a feast;
And when, with all your wit and all your rhyme,
You once are back in this your native clime,

Don't ask to sail again off to the East
For well, for five times fifty years at least.

Edward P. Guild.

A ROMANCE OF KING PHILIP'S WAR.

BY FANNY BULLOCK WORKMAN.

CHAPTER II.

THE first day or two after her meeting with the captain Millicent worked with a light heart and renewed strength, and though Ninigret now never assisted her in carrying water, as he had formerly done, the thought of her new friend and of freedom sustained her. When after a week, however, there was no sign of the approach of friends, she grew restless. Her work tired her more than it ever had; the water-bucket seemed to hold twice the usual quantity; there was double the amount of food to prepare, and the women all seemed to want clothing made. Doubtless all was as it had been in her surroundings, only the hope that had dawned one June day in her heart had died out. She tried to reason with herself. Why was she so impatient? Did it not take time in this season of war to accomplish anything? Why, after all, should he return? Her story may have interested him at the time, even aroused his sympathies; but, afterwards, it was but natural he should, on returning to his duties, forget about her and her misery. What did she know of him? They had met but once; still her belief in him was strong, though wavering at the same time. Had he not said the unfortunate had a claim on all honorable men, and surely he was a man an unfortunate might apply to, if any man was? Such is the effect of imagination upon all poor mortals; it may be a grand gift, but is often a most uncomfortable

one.

Upon the tenth night after the meeting with the captain quiet reigned at the Indian camp, where all slumbered except Millicent, to whom, in her anxiety, sleep was denied. She sat meditating upon recent events, her bosom stirred with the hope of speedy deliverance, and fear lest untoward circumstances should prevent the captain from executing his plan for her rescue. After a time her attention was attracted by peculiar sounds breaking upon the stillness of the night. These, at first faint and distant, gradually grew nearer and louder, till, trembling, she recognized the yells of

the savages, who were returning through the woods rejoicing over the atrocities they had committed. She aroused the women to prepare for the wanderers, who, bounding like deer through the forest, soon burst into the clearing and threw themselves on the ground in front of the wigwam, calling upon the women for food and drink. In order to help the squaws provide for their impatient lords Millicent offered to carry out some provisions. As she appeared the warriors greeted her with a shout, calling her Philip's pretty maid. She did not reply, but moved about silently among them, horrified at their revolting account of an attack upon a lone country-house, where, having murdered the inmates, they had possessed themselves of all of value in the house. Exultingly they told their tale of horror, their painted faces and blood-stained garments looking ghastly in the moonlight. One man threw an ornament, torn from the person of a white woman, to his squaw, who had brought his supper; and another, with a fiendish laugh, tossed a scalp to Millicent, calling out in coarse tones, "Here little white-skin, take that for a remembrance of your race." With loathing she crept back to her tent, and, stopping her ears, tried to keep out the sound of their diabolical cries.

Toward morning the noise ceased, as they, weary with carousing, one after another, fell into a heavy slumber. Allured by the silence, Millicent slipped out into the forest to quiet her aching brow in the fresh morning air. What if the English should come now, when these warriors are all at home? Would they be prepared for the fierce resistance they would encounter, she murmured, and, lost in thought, gazed mournfully at the waters of the lake, cold. and gray in the early daylight. Suddenly she was startled by the tall form of Ninigret appearing like a phantom at her side.

"I have come to join you in your morning walk, Millicent," he said, with meaning in his dark eyes, as he watched her narrowly. "You need not have come; I prefer to be alone," she answered, drawing herself up haughtily.

I know you do; but you are out early, and need a protector." A look of disgust swept over her face as he spoke the word protector. As if comprehending the expression, he said, hurriedly:"Have you considered what I said to you? Have you had enough of this life, and are you ready to come with me?"

"No, never! I would rather die at the hands of the warriors up

there" but the words died on her lips, for, as she spoke, the sounds of fire-arms reached their ears, mingled with the war-cry of the half-aroused Indians. With an exclamation of joy Millicent started in the direction of the firing, but had advanced but a step before the lithe Indian had her in his grasp.

"You shall not escape me now. Resign yourself. The white men have found the camp, but they will not rescue you. Dare to utter a cry, and I will kill you," he added, brandishing a gleaming knife before her eyes.

Terrified at this menace she allowed herself to be dragged unresistingly into the forest.

Immediately after his interview with Millicent Captain Merwin returned to Boston to secure the force necessary to his purpose. This required some days, during which he found himself becoming very restless. The story of the fair captive had strongly excited his sympathy, and her sweet face had made a deep impression upon his imagination, and he longed, with an impatience he could hardly control, to be again by her side. He was also fearful lest harm should befall her during his absence.

All this gave him a stimulus to action, and caused him to use every endeavor to prepare for his undertaking. When everything was at last ready he departed with all possible despatch.

In the evening after leaving Boston, as the English approached Lake Quinsigamond, when more than a mile from the Indian headquarters, they heard the shouting of the warriors above described.

Merwin commanded his men to conceal themselves in a thicket in the dense wood, whence they could observe the Indians as they passed. He found they considerably outnumbered his own force. As they evidently had no suspicion of the presence of an enemy, he determined to follow them cautiously, wait until weary with revelling they should fall asleep, and then surprise them after their own mode of warfare. He deployed his men, and held them in readiness. Toward day dawn, when the Indians had sunk into a profound slumber, he ordered the attack.

The English advanced stealthily, and were almost in the camp before they were discovered by the sentinel, who gave the alarm.

This came too late. The English rushed forward with cheers, and were among the surprised Indians before they were fairly awake. The latter hurriedly seized their weapons and made what