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LITERARY DEPARTMENT.

We are acquainted with many stenographers who have written splendid novels, sketches, essays, poems; whose work with brush and crayon has withstood criticism; whose mechanical ingenuity has brought forth many useful inventions; whose lectures have been well received. Heretofore these productions have not been brought to the attention of the other members of the professions as a body, to stimulate their efforts in similar directions.

THE NATIONAL STENOGRAPHER invites contributions from stenographers and typewritists to this Department, all articles printed being paid for. All articles not found suitable for publication will be returned to the writers, if stamps for the return have been inclosed with the MSS.

The Notional Stenographer's Prize Story. No. 1. This Story Won the First Prize of $50. THE SILKEN BRIDGE

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AURA HUNT hastened down the street of the village of Tiverton, as if trying to escape being overtaken by the dark cloud which rolled up rapidly behind her and threatened to renew the morning's downpour. The west was overspread; already darkness was coming on, and lights were burning in the houses along the street:

"Won't you wait for me?" said a voice behind her.

She turned saying in mock severity and with a tinge of surprise. "Yes, if you'll hurry. How do you happen to be so late?"

"A message came to the office which must be taken four or five miles out into the country, and I very foolishly undertook to be the bearer. And you?"

"I've had tea with Mrs. Mcllravy."

It was Harry Gordon, night operator, on his way to work at the station of Tiverton's one railroad.

Somehow these two forgot their hurry, and, in spite of the coming rain and duty delayed, they walked slowly. They talked as only two young people free from care can; talk which in cold black and white would look very much like nonsense, and, perhaps, it was nonsense-what of it? Harry told of his drive over the muddiest roads, described the efforts of an old farmer to rescue his hay from the risen river, and told of flocks of sheep huddled together on little islands surrounded by running water. Laura told hi.. that she was learning telegraphy, and had that day taken all the messages from the line of Tiverton & Sons, in whose office she worked as stenographer. She plied him with questions as to her difficulties in the newly acquired art, and, while they discussed these. they reached the bridge. Here two lanterns were placed to warn travelers that a new bridge was building, which could not yet be crossed. Harry walked over with Laura on the planks laid down for the accomodation of those afoot. As she looked down towards the water swirling around the piers of the bridge, Laura said: "The river has risen very much since morning; one of the workmen told me that if the water continued to rise the bridge would be in danger."

"Do not fear for the bridge, so long as you are not carried off against your will to sail in your cottage for a ship. Do you never feel afraid with the creek and river raging, one on each side of you?"

"Oh, no, why should we. The water never reaches us."

With this they parted, Harry walking rapidly back to the office, and, drops of rain beginning to fall, Laura hastened on towards the light burning in the window of her little home. Rain began to pour down just as she reached the veranda, where she stood for a few moments listening. On the right she heard the roar of the river, swollen to its high water mark by the rains of the week, on the left she knew the overflowing creek rushed on to meet the river. Theirs was the only house in the land between the two

streams, and as she stood there she felt most keenly their isolation from the rest of the village. She seemed to hear again: “Are you not afraid?" Again she answered: “Why should I be? The water never reaches us."

She entered the cosy little room, brightened by the lamp which had been her guiding star from the bridge. By it her mother sat sewing, and in an invalid's chair her sister Carrie sat in the same place she had occupied for two long years. Her mother's anxious face brightened as Laura entered, and she looked up saying: "Are you wet? I did not think you would stop this evening."

"I am not wet. Mrs. Mellravy and Minnie would have me stop for tea, they said it was so long since I had promised that I must. Why, Carrie, you look tired. Here are some flowers little May gathered, and Mrs. NcIlravy sent you a pattern for lace and some silk to work it. Wait till I put away my jacket. Harry Gordon walked to the bridge with me, he wanted to know if I took fancy work to the office. Here-why it is not here! I must have lost it! How annoying! It's too bad. If it were not raining I should go back for it. Here is a book Minnie gave me for you. She says it is just splendid. The silk was on top of it and there was not room for both in my pocket."

So her tongue ran on. She told of her work at the office, of her visit, of what she had heard, till the tired expression had vanished from Carrie's face and Mrs. Hunt no longer looked anxious and care worn. Carrie forgot pain and suffering, as she always did, under Laura's influence. A happier trio could not be found than that in Mrs. Hunt's little cottage. Within all was bright and comfortable; without they could hear falling rain and roaring waters, but these only added to the feeling of coziness and security. It was nine o'clock. The water had risen steadily since dark, and had already covered the road leading to the bridge. Those in the village who lived near the water's edge were bestirring themselves in attention to summer arrangements which the rising river was greatly disturbing. In the stores little groups were gathered to talk over the unexpected which had come upon the village. The unexpected seldom happened in Tiverton, and what could be more unexpected than a freshet of unusual dimensions in the month of June. Some tried to give reasons for such an unusual occurrence, many speculated as to the amount of damage that would be done, and all wondered how much longer the river would continue to rise. At 9:30 o'clock the 8:30 express passed through the village, having been delayed by a washout some miles north of Tiverton. A number of Tiverton & Sons' workmen had been working at the shops for three-quarters of an hour removing lumber beyond high water mark. By 10 o'clock the water had ceased to rise so rapidly as formerly. Nearly all had gone home and many lights had gone out. In half an hour Tiverton's people would be at rest, and rising streams would trouble them only in dreams.

It was 10:30; it may have been later. A horseman, on a steaming horse covered with mud, rode towards the village. A light was burning in the station house, and the rider, dismounting, hurried into the office. He startled Harry Gordon from his easy chair and deeply interesting book with: "Look aiive young man, there's no time to waste. Then he poured into Harry's astonished ear the following: "I've just come ten miles from Claremont. The village there is under water-houses and stores three feet deep in it. Bridges and dams are gone all along the river. It came on us all at once; the river is four feet higher than anyone has ever seen it before. It will be here in an hour, an hour and a half at the longest. You'd better move, young man, or your town will be in the worst fix it ever was." Harry did move, and in a very short time groups of sleepy men were gathered on the streets, trying hard to understand what had brought them there. All wondered, some doubted, a few laughed to scorn the ridiculous story invented to fool them. But soon the groups disappeared. Those nearest the river began in a half hearted way to prepare for what they scarcely believed would come."

After the first intimation of danger, each one forgot his neighbor in his anxiety for himself and his. But soon "the Hunt's" was upon every lip; a large crowd had gathered opposite the bridge between which and them a wide stretch of rapidly flowing water intervened. As they looked into the darkness, many declared that the bridge was gone, others averred that they could see it still standing. As is often the case in an emergency, valuable time was lost in talk. "A boat." "A boat." "The foundry boathouse was gone an hour ago. I've just come from Smith's, and it is gone." "A raft." "No raft could be managed in that stream." A clear firm voice rose above the clamor. "Here hold the end of this rope, I'll swim to the bridge" a dozen volunteered, ashamed that they had not thought of this before. "What if the bridge is gone?" Crash! an awful sound swelled abovethe roar of the rushing waters. The bridge had sunk into the river.

room.

Meanwhile the subjects of so much anxiety sat, quite unaware of what was taking place outside. They talked on till Carrie's bed-time, and she was wheeled away to her Then Mrs. Hunt retired, and left Laura alone. She sat reading for an hour or more, when, laying down her book, she listened to the falling rain and roaring streams. As she listened her vague fears returned, and she went to the door. All was dark and she could see nothing. She closed the door, and, impatient with herself, returned to her book. She could no longer read so she put away her book and decided to retire. Her mother and Carrie already slept soundly, and it was past her usual bed-time. She again went to the door where she stood for some time. Suddenly she started back, then siezing, the lantern from its shelf, she lit it, and scarcely knowing what she did she hurried out through darkness and rain, over the road here and there six inches deep in water. She reached the bridge. Her fears were realized. Once before the bridge had been swept away, and they had not been harmed; but, as she looked over into the dark waters, she stood motionless, overcome by the thoughts which rushed in upon her. She could see the lights far across by the water's edge. How far she felt herself from them!

As she looked, one of them was
Then it was moved up and

On the other abutment two lanterns still burned. lifted and swung back and forth, as if to attract attention. down, in an irregular spasmodic manner. What did it mean? Little by little she seemed to see method in the motions of the lantern: then she spelled out slowly in the Morse code: "I C-O-M-E." She tried to signal back a reply, and after some effort she telegraphed the one word "D-a-n-g-e-r!" Then she read: "I-n a-n h-o-u-r."

Both lanterns moved forward, as Harry and Laura looked over into the darkness of the wide breach which separated them, and which lay between Laura and safety. Looking down, both felt that the breach could not be crossed; and Harry knew that the river swept in a flood against which his strength would be as a board thrown upon it. It would e impossible for him to reach the opposite abutment.

At

He

Laura stepped back, and in doing so, saw at her feet the pattern which she had lost a few hours before. Still moving back, she stooped and took it from the ground. that moment something rolled past Harry's feet towards the edge of the abutment. stooped quickly to catch it, but it fell over into the river. Something clung to his fingers and as he stepped back to examine, a thread tightened over his hand. He moved back still farther and the thread drew tighter. He raised his lantern; a slender cord reached straight towards the other abutment. Just then he noticed Laura's light move back, and at the same moment the silk tightened and drew through his fingers. Could it be possible that this little silk thread bridged over the impassable flood beneath? Harry signalled: "Y-o-u h-a-v-e t-h-e t-h-r-e-a-d?"

"Y-e-s."

"S-o h-a-v-e I. W-a-i-t."

Laura saw him fasten his end of the cord, then disappear. She stood alone, she never knew how long; it might have been one or two hours or longer. Bewildered and dazed, deafened by the roar around her, she tried to think what had happened, what would be done and what must she do. She held the pattern in her hand, as if she feared every moment that her only hope of safety would slip from her. How had it come there? The ball must have dropped from her pocket whilst the pattern held fast and dragged the silk from the ball. Strange that it should have fallen where it did; stranger still that, when the bridge was swept away, that slender cord should have been left. Her brain grew clearer and her nerves steadier as she thought of what must be done. She must act. and against greatest odds. Upon her depended the lives of her mother and sister. What could be done with helpiess Carrie at such a time? What. if Harry could not return in time?

Then

Presently the lantern was lifted and she spelled out: "P-u-1-1 e-a-s-i-l-y." She drew the thread steadily towards her and at its end found a stout cord. she drew more rapidly towards her a small rope, to which was attached a heavy rope, side by side with a small one. Both of these she tied to her waist.

She turned and moved rapidly towards the house, but had gone only a few steps to find that the river had risen very, very rapidly, and had crept up so as to completely surround the raised abutment. The light on the running water made her dizzy, and she quickly flung it from her. Courage must not be lost now. Watching steadily the light

in the window of the cottage, she walked towards it. At every step the water became deeper and deeper, and flowed more rapidly. She pushed on, knowing that should she get off the road near the bridge, she must lose herself in the deep waters by its side. That danger was passed; the road was on a level with the land on each side. The water

was as deep now as any she would pass through, but could she hold out against the increased rapidity with which it would flow farther on? Already she felt that she was losing ground and that she was being borne down little by little. Floating debris hurried passed her and sometimes struck her. Her strength was failing and the stream was flowing more rapidly. At times she almost lost her footing, and at every step she was forced still farther from the path. Still she pressed on, always moving with the stream. and farther from the road to the cottage. The ground was uneven. Her foot slipped and she fell. She tried to regain her footing but the mad rush of the water held her down. She struggled in vain. The flood swept her on. Courage failed her. She felt all was lost. At that moment she was swept against something solid. It was an immense stone, which, in days gone by, had been the scene of many of Laura's childish frolics. Weak, almost fainting, she crept upon it. Strength returned. Near the stone she knew a strong fence ran, and, with its assistance, she thought she could reach the house. No time could be lost. She reached the fence, and, sometimes walking along its rails, sometimes in the water, she gained a footing on solid ground. As fast as her wasted strength and wet clothes would permit, she moved towards the cottage. She carried the lamp to the door and waved it back and forth as a signal of safety. The motion and a gush of wind put out the light and left her in darkness; but Harry's, lantern swung round and round, told her that her signal had been noticed. Laura took the rope from her waist and tied it securely. She must wait till Harry reached the village; but, in the meantime, there was much to be done. Putting on a long cloak, to hide her dripping dress, she went quietly into the room occupied by her mother and her sister. Both slept soundly. Laura gently awoke her mother, who, accustomed to start at Carrie's every movement, sat up quickly, saying: "What is it my dear?"

Hush! mother. You must not awake Carrie. Come out into this room." Mrs. Hunt obeyed. As soon as the light fell on Laura she exclaimed: child, what is the matter? Where have you been?”

"Why

"Mother, you must be quiet. The water is rising very rapidly. The bridge is gone and we are in danger!"

"Nonsense Laura. I have lived here more than twenty years. There is no danger." "Yes, there is. I got word from the village. The water is up to the old apple tree. I never saw it there before."

Mrs. Hunt started and said: "I did once, long ago What a night that was. The water has never risen so high since."

"But, mother, it is rising yet," and, going to the door Laura, said "Look, Mother." The light fell on the water not ten feet from the veranda. Mrs. Hunt turned pale.

"You are right Laura," she said, "What shall we do?”

Laura saw that she must take authority in her own hands and said: "Mother, I have a rope. You must be calm and not alarm Carrie. Dress yourself quickly. Then, arouse Carrie and dress her. Be sure you do not excite her unnecessarily.'

Going to the wood-shed, Laura secured a heavy stick of wood five or six feet long which she carried to the garret. Then getting a ladder, she placed it against the roof of the house. Next, carrying the rope up to the window, she placed the stick across it and tied the rope securely. When she descended she found Carrie dressed and Mrs. Hunt trying to soothe, her anxiety. At the sight of Laura's firm, composed countenance Carrie seemed to take courage. Laura went to her side and said: "Carrie, we are in danger, but, if you are brave, we shall all be safe very soon."

Turning to her mother she said: "Mother, you must help me take Carrie to the garret."

This done, Laura sat by the window watching. The rope was raised and tightened. Then the waving of twenty lights far out by the river's edge, told that the decisive moment had come. Laura drew in the small rope, her hand trembling with nervous excitement. The water washing around the foundation warned her that now, if at any time, she must retain her self control. Again her hand grew steady and she drew in the rope more rapidly. A light moved slowly, steadily towards her. In a few minutesto Laura it seemed much longer-the light had reached the roof. It was tied to a sort of chair which hung from a pully running on the large rope.

Carrie was lifted through the window out upon the slippery roof. With the greatest difficulty, she was placed and tied in the swinging chair. Laura whispered: "Be brave and all will be well."

Then the signal given, this singular car with its precious freight moved out along its narrow track. The light moved out as slowly as it had come. Laura and her mother

will never forget the suspense of the time during which they watched that light pass steadily away from them. Nor will they ever forget the relief which the waving of lanterns brought to them. Back came the light, and, as her mother sped on towards safety, Laura stood alone in the deepest suspense.

Another trip, and Laura had consigned herself to the swinging car. She gave the signal, the car rushed down the hanging rope. She remembered no more. A week later she opened her eyes in a strange room to find her mother and sister beside her. She smiled, then sank into a quiet sleep. Gradually she recovered from the illness brought on by the night's exertions and excitement. Two weeks later she sat by the window and looked out upon the river now sparkling in the summer sunlight. All was quiet enough but on every hand she could see indications of havoc done by the greatest flood which had ever come upon Tiverton. Beyond the river, green grass was covered with grey mud; and beyond the grove where her home had once been, was a void, made when their frame cottage had been swept from its foundation. For the first time Laura fully realized the danger which she and those dear to her had escaped.

A year later, lace worked from the silk which had done so much for the persons concerned, adorned a wedding dress. As Laura stood with Harry before the altar, Mrs. McIlravy was heard to whisper: I always did think that the prettiest pattern I ever saw."

On such occasions, the bride is always the most beautiful. But, on this occasion, there were those who said that Laura had the prettiest bridesmaid they had ever seen. They were right, for Carrie Hunt during the year past had won back health and strength, and with these had gained rare beauty. Standing by the door of the church, I heard some one, speaking of her, say: "That's one good thing the flood did. If it hadn't been for that, I believe Carrie would never have become well."

WANTED-AN EASY POSITION.

YOUNG man, whose father cut our grass last week and wounded two lovely rose bushes with a dull sickle, writes me that he would like to abtain a position where the work is light and the hours not too long. He assures me that if I will assist him he will be under obligations.

That's the way I like to hear a young man talk. He seems to know that his capacity is limited and that his strength

won't hold out. Very properly he wants things to gibe. Such young men never disappoint anyone. They put you on your guard at once. you expect much from them, it is your own fault.

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If

I shall comply with the youth's request, if I can, for if there is anything I love better than my country, it is getting positions and stuffing them full of young men.

Now, I myself, occupy a good position in society. The work is very light, and some of the hours very small, especially those kissed by the rosy dawn; but I fear me, the young person would not like to turn his back on his father and Goose Hollow to enter such a position.

While his request opens up his character so that we can all get a full view of the entrails, there is a vagueness about it which will keep me home a few weeks thinking about what is best to be done.

I wish he had said just how long he wanted the hours. If he had cut the grass himself and charged by the hour, I might get at it. I don't know whether he wants them thirty, forty or fifty seconds long.

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