174 RECREATION 



the mining camps of the far West, put denly in the midst of her hymns. The 

 his mouth close to my ear and yelled : woman inside ceased her moaning, the 

 "General Sherman said war was hell, dawg wagged his tail once more, Gus 

 what would he have said if he was crawled from under the bed, the wind 

 here ?" Amidst all the tumult of the outside slackened, the waters subsided, 

 elements, it is but fair to say that the and George and I shook hands solemn- 

 accordion took the sweepstakes. From ly. There was a doubt in both our 

 the inner bowels of that wonderful in- minds as to which emotion was strong- 

 strument there came such discordant er : joy, because the long drawn-out 

 tones as rarely ever split the circum- agony of that infernal accordion was 

 ambient air. The thing' by turns bel- hushed forever, or relief, from having 

 lowed, screamed, howled and groaned, been delivered from sudden death, 

 and when Nancy put on extra power, There was no doubt as to the state of 

 it combined all the sounds at once ; and Nancy's feelings ; she might have felt 

 then there was an infernal discord in- grateful because she was not drowned, 

 deed. But even this was preferable to but grief, genuine unadulterated grief, 

 the tremolo that ran from a cavernous over the wrecking of the~ family heir- 

 grumble to a paralyzing shriek which loom was all absorbing; she gave way 

 would end in a wail so startling that to a fresh burst of tears every time 

 even Gus lost his nerve and dived tin- her eyes fell on the nurtured, bursted 

 der the bed, while the dog scratched instrument. "What will the folks at 

 frantically at the door in his efforts home say," she moaned. "We can't 

 to get outside. George looked as if sing hymns without the 'cordion." 

 he longed for death. Nancy's arms Gus cheered her a little by remark- 

 were working like a wood sawyer's, ing that he knew a blacksmith who 

 and the wrapt look in her eyes showed could patch up her innards, 

 that she was under the divine spirit The next day a revenue cutter 

 and saw visions. steamed up to the island and we were 

 If this thing had kept up much long- courteously invited by the captain to 

 er we would all have been either raving take pasage to Norfolk — we jumped at 

 maniacs or gibbering idiots, when all the chance, and as we steamed away 

 at once with an awful roar, it bursted the last sight we beheld was Nancy on 

 its insides, and the only answer to the top of the tower, like Black-eyed 

 Nancy's convulsive workings was a Susan, waving her handkerchief to the 

 swish of wind. Nancy stopped sud- vanishing craft. 



WHERE JOY RETURNS 



BY IRENE POMEROY SHIELDS. 



Just under the white birch trees, 



Close to a sentinel pine ; 

 On the bank of a lake my tent is set 



And the joy of life is mine. 

 Morning dew and evening breeze, 



Starlight, shade and shine ; 

 Song of bird and hum of bees, 



Tangle of shrub and vine; 

 Wandering wind and washing wave, • 



Whisper of birch and pine ; 

 Rustling leaf and flashing wing, 



And Nature's hand in mine. 



