1897. 



THE AMERICAN BEE KEEPER. 



241 



A LIFE LESSON. 



•Hiere, little girl, don't cry. 

 They've Li oken your doll, I knoWt 

 And youi' i ph set blue 

 And your toyhouse, too, 

 Are things of the long ago. 

 But childish troubles will soon pass by. 

 There, little girl, don't cry. 



There, little girl, don't cry. 

 They've broken your slate, I knoWt 

 And the glad wild ways 

 Of your schoolgii 1 days 

 Are things of the long ago. 

 But life and love will soon come by. 

 There, little girl, don't cry. 



There, little girl, don't cry. 

 They've broken your heart, I know* 

 And the rainbow gleams 

 Of your youthful dreams 

 Are things of the long ago. 

 But heaven holds all for which you sigh. 

 There, little girl, don't cry. 



—James Whitcomb Riley. 



AN INDIAN LEGEND. 



In the county of Berkshire, state of 

 Idassachusetts, the lofty .Mouumeut 

 nQOuutiiin rears its gray form. If there 

 is anything sublime attached to a 

 monnt, a rare beauty will be admitted 

 to linger around this wild and tower- 

 ing line of rocks. Its bold and frown- 

 ing front extends about one mile, and 

 so roughly is it flung together by na- 

 ture and standing at the same time 

 BO perpendicular that a tremulous chill 

 hurries over the body as the awestruck 

 beholder gazes up at it. A few knotty, 

 dwarfish pines are to be seen peering 

 obliquely from the narrow crevices, 

 looking green even among rocks, like 

 hope flourishing on the borders of de- 

 spair. 



The red bolt from the thundercloud, 

 the winds and the power of centuries 

 have torn way many fragments of 

 stone from ou high and sent them smok- 

 ing to the base, where already a long 

 pyramidal line is strung along, quite a 

 mountain in itself. The rear of this 

 place falls off with a gentle slope, which 

 is overshadowed by tall and regal look- 

 ing trets, whose giant roots have never 

 been broken. It presents a fearful yet 

 magnificent appearance. There is no 

 village near to wake the solemnity of 

 its solitude, and silence is as profound 

 at the sun's meridian as at the hush of 

 midniaht. It always seemed to me this 



spot was a favorite with the sun, for the 

 first rosy flush of morning appeared un- 

 easy until drinking the dew from the 

 trees upon its brow, and his last rays 

 lingered there at evening, eveu after a 

 partial twilight began to fling a dusky 

 shade over the vast valley below. But 

 this may be imagination. 



I must just mention a circumstance 

 in relation to this mountain which 

 gave to it the appellation which it has 

 received. 



Once this backward slope was stud- 

 ded witli the wigwams of the Indians, 

 called the Stockbridge tribe, and tradi- 

 tion has handed down many an ambig- 

 uous and chilling tale in regard to 

 them. It was an established law among 

 them that when an Indian committed a 

 deed the penalty of which was death 

 he should plunge himself, or, refusing 

 to do this, be plunged bv some one of 

 his tribe, over this frightful precipice. 

 Many had been dashed to the rocky 

 vale below, and so high was the spot 

 from where the victims were cast off 

 that it was generally supposed that the 

 rapid descent through the air deprived 

 them of breath, and few if any had ev- 

 er been conscious of anything when 

 they had reached the earth. 



A beautiful squaw transgressed by 

 marrying into another tribe, and the 

 penalty for such an offense was and ev- 

 er had been death. She was well aware 

 what her fate would be previous to her 

 sealing it, but it did not restrain her. 

 She disobeyed, and nothing could atone 

 but the full extent of the law. Although 

 she had courage sufficient to face death 

 in marrying, she did not feel willing to 

 sacrifice herself according to the man- 

 date, and it therefore devolved upon 

 some one to precipitate her over tlje 

 cloud capped mountain. All her limbs 

 being bound except her hands, she was 

 borne to the verge and launched away 

 with all the stoicism for which the In- 

 dians are famous But here a thing oc^ 

 curred which had never been known 

 before. In her downward flight she 

 came in contact with the long branch of 

 a pine which swung out many feet 

 from the recks, and, grasping it with 

 the clutch of death, succeeded in break- 

 ing the force she had attained, and re- 

 mained holding fast, suspended between, 

 ihe top and base of the mountain. 



