Tlie Rambles of an Idler 



Nance and nothin' o' nothin' else. A young 

 feller in love, you know, ain't apt to be over- 

 burdened with common sense. Fust, I know'd 

 we was in swifter water than I could tackle. 

 The way we rush'd 'long was a caution, an' all 

 there was to do was to keep out o' the way o' 

 logs and bresh-wood; but no use, a tree came 

 quicker 'n we were goin', an' we got fetched up 

 in the branches. The tree took a roll like in a 

 minute, and sort o' lifted the boat out o' the 

 water, an' there we sat, ridin* in a way that 

 was goin' faster 'n pleasant. If the tree took 

 another roll, we were goners, that was plain, 

 an' I up an' says so. 



" 'Job,' says Nance, 'if it's God's will, so be 

 it. If we can't live together, we can die to- 

 gether, an' that's better 'n livin' apart.' 



"Didn't I feel queer-like! That woman sit- 

 tin' there like one in a pictur jus' made me grit 

 me teeth, grip me oars, an' wait. I kep' one 

 eye on the water and one on her, and 'fore I 

 know'd it the tree giv' a lurch, an' the boat, 

 'stead o' upsettin', was free ag'in. Didn't I 

 pull for the Jersey shore then, an' Nance didn't 

 look like herself, but more'n ever like a pictur. 

 It was gettin' dark like, and the Bordentown 



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