126

water. But Jenny had no misgivings, “Yes; I am
coming, Willy, hold on!” she shouted. But to her
dismay her own little boat, with its slender oars
which she could use as deftly as she could a sewing-
machine, was adrift, and worse than that, Willy had
taken the oars belonging to the old dory, still at its
moorings, to go out in his boat to which upside down
she could now see him clinging. No oars were left
but the heavy ones used in the great sail boat. She
had no time wherein to think how much more diffi-
cult her task would be on account of these facts,
but quick as a flash unshipped the old dory and
pushed off with the big oars. So high ran the
waves, and so terribly was the wind blowing, that
both Mr. and Mrs, Jordan, who: were watching her,
thought the boat would fill, and thus they would
lose both their children. But she was as cool as
if she had been merely out for a pleasure row,
and managed her clumsy craft so adroitly that she
took in very little water, although she was drenched
to the skin by the flying spray. Once only, she told
them afterward, she nearly gave out. A mountain-
ous wave threatened instant destruction, and she
lost sight of Willy, whom, from the moment of start-
ing, she had kept in sight. The great, unwieldy
oars seemed to mock her utmost strength, and she
did not know but she was fainting, perhaps even
dying.

But it was only a second, and she said, “I heard
this ringing in my ears: They did roan for
you, now you save Willy.”

And she did save him. His last conscious moment
was spent in getting into her boat, where he lay like
one dead, unable to help her in what was almost

THE CRITIC.

as dangerous as getting out—getting back. Fortu-
nately, the hired man, who had been shooting on
the sea side of the island, appeared in time to assist
her in making a landing and in carrying Willy to
the house. It was half a day before he was able
to speak, but they knew the first time he opened
his eyes, that he was fully aware who saved him.

After a while he told them that going out to take
up- his lobster pots, he piled so many on his boat
that their weight, combined with the rough sea, over-
turned it.

Like. many seafaring people, he could not swim
a stroke, and if the lobster pots had not been
anchored by what is called a “kedger,” which he
had not pulled up, he would have given himself
up for lost. But the boat was so entangled with
the lobster pots that the kedger kept it from drifting
at once out of reach, and he held on.

When they asked him if he thought Jenny would
reach him in time, he said, “I hadn’t a doubt but
she would.”

He had a rheumatic fever, spite of all his courage,
and they had to send to the mainland for a physician.
They told him the story, and we think he must have
written the Humane Society, for one day when Jenny
went to Seal Harbor for the mail, she was amazed
beyond words as a nice little box was handed her
by her old friend, the Holden boy, which contained
the beautiful silver medal the Society bestows for
such acts of noble self-forgetfulness. Jenny likes
to look at- the medal, but says, “Of course I do
not deserve it, for I never could have looked my
aunt Mary Jordan in the face, if I had not. saved
Willy.”

 

THE CRITIC.

By Janet MILLER,

E were “practising scales” in the parlor,
And the air was wild with our din,
When, happening to glance at the window,
A robin was looking in,

His wee head turned sideways with wonder,
As he listened in mute surprise;

For how those children could blunder
In scales, he couldn’t surmise.

Ah! robin, don’t judge in a hurry,

Though your scales are quite without flaws;
Don’t you think you would be in a flurry,

If you were obliged to use claws?