like tambourines; the boys celebrated
their victories with shrill whistles, and a drum accompaniment with
fists on the shed walls. Billy brought his drum, and this was such an
addition that Sam hunted up an old one of his little brother's, in order
that he might join the drum corps. He had no sticks, however, and,
casting about in his mind for a good substitute for the genuine thing,
bethought him of bulrushes.

"Those will do first-rate, and there are lots in the ma'sh, if I can
only get 'em," he said to himself, and turned off from the road on his
way home to get a supply.

Now, this marsh was a treacherous spot, and the tragic story was told of
a cow who got in there and sank till nothing was visible but a pair of
horns above the mud, which suffocated the unwary beast. For this reason
it was called "Cowslip Marsh," the wags said, though it was generally
believed to be so named for the yellow flowers which grew there in great
profusion in the spring.

Sam had seen Ben hop nimbly from one tuft of grass to another when he
went to gather cowslips for Betty, and the stout boy thought he could do
the same. Two or three heavy jumps landed him, not among the bulrushes,
as he had hoped, but in a pool of muddy water, where he sank up to his
middle with alarming rapidity. Much scared, he tried to wade out, but
could only flounder to a tussock of grass, and cling there, while he
endeavored to kick his legs free. He got them out, but struggled in vain
to coil them up or to hoist his heavy body upon the very small island in
this sea of mud. Down they splashed again; and Sam gave a dismal groan
as he thought of the leeches and water-snakes which might be lying in
wait below. Visions of the lost cow also flashed across his agitated
mind, and he gave a despairing shout very like a distracted "Moo!"

Few people passed along the lane, and the sun was setting, so the
prospect of a night in the marsh nerved Sam to make a frantic plunge
toward the bulrush island, which was nearer than the mainland, and
looked firmer than any tussock round him. But he failed to reach this
haven of rest, and was forced to stop at an old stump which stuck up,
looking very like the moss-grown horns of the "dear departed." Roosting
here, Sam began to shout for aid in every key possible to the human
voice. Such hoots and howls, whistles and roars, never woke the echoes
of the lonely marsh before, or scared the portly frog who resided there
in calm seclusio