CHAPTER VI. 



THE TWIN ISLANDS. 



Passing by my neighbor's bouse, on my way to the 

 creek, I was somewhat startled by seeing a chair come 

 tumbling from the attic window. So odd an occurrence 

 drew my steps in that direction. The inmates of this 

 old mansion, I learned, were " cleaning house," as they 

 called it, and to make room for some " old " things — I 

 use their word — were pitching out of the lumber-room 

 some that were still older. 



Luckily I was there in time to stop the folly. The 

 discarded chair, I grant, was not worth much, and could 

 not, in safety, have supported more than a living skele- 

 ton ; but it was of a curious pattern, and boasted of ar- 

 tistic carving. The bushes below had saved it from 

 utter destruction, and the carved back and clawed feet 

 will some day be utilized in a wonderful wooden mantle 

 I have long had in contemplation. 



I begged the privilege of a look in that old garret be- 

 fore further proceedings were undertaken by the clean- 

 ers, which was readily granted. 



" He wants to ransack the garret and look at the trash 

 up there," explained the daughter of the house to her 

 mother. 



" And he'll get stung by the wasps for his trouble ; 

 7* 



