agged from the tangled mass.
Sometimes, after unloading the top logs, those at the bottom would rise
and make the task easier; sometimes the work would go on for hours with
no perceptible progress, and Mr. Wiley would have opportunity to tell
the bystanders of a "turrible jam" on the Kennebec that had cost the
Lumber Company ten thousand dollars to break.

There would be great arguments on shore, among the villagers as well as
among the experts, as to the particular log which might be a key to the
position. The boss would study the problem from various standpoints,
and the drivers themselves would pass from heated discussion into long
consultations.

"They're paid by the day," Old Kennebec would philosophize to the
doctor; "an' when they're consultin' they don't hev to be doggin', which
is a turrible sight harder work."

Rose had created a small sensation, on one occasion, by pointing out to
the under boss the key-log in a jam. She was past mistress of the pretty
game of jackstraws, much in vogue at that time. The delicate little
lengths of polished wood or bone were shaken together and emptied on the
table. Each jackstraw had one of its ends fashioned in the shape of some
sort of implement,--a rake, hoe, spade, fork, or mallet. All the pieces
were intertwined by the shaking process, and they lay as they fell, in a
hopeless tangle. The task consisted in taking a tiny pick-pole, scarcely
bigger than a match, and with the bit of curved wire on the end lifting
off the jackstraws one by one without stirring the pile or making
it tremble. When this occurred, you gave place to your opponent, who
relinquished his turn to you when ill fortune descended upon him, the
game, which was a kind of river-driving and jam-picking in miniature,
being decided by the number of pieces captured and their value. No
wonder that the under boss asked Rose's advice as to the key-log. She
had a fairy's hand, and her cunning at deciding the pieces to be moved,
and her skill at extricating and lifting them from the heap, were looked
upon in Edgewood as little less than supernatural. It was a favorite
pastime; and although a man's hand is ill adapted to it, being
over-large and heavy, the game has obvious advantages for a lover in
bringing his head very close to that of his beloved adversary. The
jackstraws have to be watched with a hawk's eagerness, since the
"trembling" can be discerned only by a keen eye; but there were moments
when Stephen was