ve vent
to an outrageous roar, while its horror-struck mother came to the ground
with a sound resembling the fall of an enormous sack of wool. Although
the old lady could not see exactly that there was anything very
blameworthy in her husband's conduct upon this occasion, yet her nerves
had received so severe a shock that she refused to be comforted for two
entire days.

But to return from this digression. After Charley had two or three
times recommended Kate (who was a little inclined to be quizzical) to
proceed, she continued--

"Well, then, you were carried up here by father and Tom Whyte, and put
to bed, and after a good deal of rubbing and rough treatment you were
got round. Then Peter Mactavish nearly poisoned you; but fortunately he
was such a goose that he did not think of reading the label of the
phial, and so gave you a dose of tincture of rhubarb instead of
laudanum, as he had intended; and then father flew into a passion, and
Tom Whyte was sent to fetch the doctor, and couldn't find him; but
fortunately he found me, which was much better, I think, and brought me
up here. And so here I am, and here I intend to remain."

"And so that's the end of it. Well, Kate, I'm very glad it was no
worse."

"And I am very _thankful_," said Kate, with emphasis on the word, "that
it's no worse."

"Oh, well, you know, Kate, I _meant_ that, of course."

"But you did not _say_ it," replied his sister earnestly.

"To be sure not," said Charley gaily; "it would be absurd to be always
making solemn speeches, and things of that sort, every time one has a
little accident."

"True, Charley; but when one has a very serious accident, and escapes
unhurt, don't you think that _then_ it would be--"

"Oh yes, to be sure," interrupted Charley, who still strove to turn Kate
from her serious frame of mind; "but, sister dear, how could I possibly
_say_ I was thankful, with my head crammed into an old cask and my feet
pointing up to the blue sky, eh?"

Kate smiled at this, and laid her hand on his arm, while she bent over
the pillow and looked tenderly into his eyes.

"O my darling Charley, you are disposed to jest about it; but I cannot
tell you how my heart trembled this morning when I heard from Tom Whyte
of what had happened. As we drove up to the fort, I thought how
terrible it would have been if you had been killed; and then the happy
days we have spent together rushed into my mind, and I thought of the
willow creek w