THE
W H I T E R O S E
OF
MEMPHIS:

A Novel.

BY
W. C. F A L K N E R.

“Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone that soar above,
Enjoy such liberty.”
Richard Lovelace.

M. A. DONOHUE & COMPANY
CHICAGO NEW YORK

White Rose of Memphis.

[CHAPTER I., ] [II., ] [III., ] [IV., ] [V., ] [VI., ] [VII., ] [VIII., ] [IX., ] [X., ] [XI., ] [XII., ] [XIII., ] [XIV., ] [XV., ] [XVI., ] [XVII., ] [XVIII., ] [XIX., ] [XX., ] [XXI., ] [XXII., ] [XXIII., ] [XXIV., ] [XXV., ] [XXVI., ] [XXVII., ] [XXVIII., ] [XXIX., ] [XXX., ] [XXXI., ] [XXXII., ] [XXXIII., ] [XXXIV., ] [XXXV., ] [XXXVI., ] [XXXVII., ] [XXXVIII., ] [XXXIX., ] [XL., ] [XLI., ] [XLII.]

PUBLISHERS’ PREFACE.

For thirty-one years, this book has met popular favor, and a sale of one hundred and sixty thousand copies. Its sale now is steadily increasing, notwithstanding the worn condition of the plates.

This 35th edition, now printed from new plates, is offered, believing it will outlive its fifty-six years of copyright.

But few works of fiction are accredited with such favor, or with such extensive circulation.

THE WHITE ROSE
OF
MEMPHIS.

CHAPTER I.

“SPEAK it out, captain; I know by your looks you have something to say, and I am full of curiosity to hear it.”

“Very true, my dear fellow; I have at last hit on a scheme which I think will prove very profitable, and will be glad to take you in as an equal partner.”

“Glad to hear it; I am ready for anything to make an honest living.”

“I have chartered the best boat on the river, and mean to put her to work on the line between here and New Orleans, and shall of course be her commander, and would be glad to have you take charge of the office, and we will divide profits.”

“I am truly grateful, captain, for the manifestation of confidence contained in your offer, and will gladly undertake the business.”

“Very good; then we may consider it settled so far. The next thing to be done is to get up a handsome advertisement, and meantime the boat must be re-painted, re-furnished and overhauled generally.”

“Give the necessary instructions as to these things, captain, and draw on me for my share of the expenses. By the by, what boat have you chartered?”

“The ‘Star of the West;’ but I will have her name changed, as I do not like that one. What shall her new name be?”

“I leave that to you, and trust you will select a pretty name; there is nothing like having a pretty name for a pretty boat. Shakespeare was decidedly mistaken when he thought that there was nothing in a name.”

“I agree with you there, Sam, and insist that you shall select the name.”

“No, no; but I’ll tell you what we will do: you write down three names, and I’ll write three; we’ll put them in a hat, and the first one drawn shall be her name.”

“All right.”

The names were written, placed in the captain’s hat, and Sam was requested to draw out one.

“What have you got, Sam?” said the captain.

“The prettiest name that ever was seen on a wheel-house. You might have given me a month to think about it, and I never should have thought of such a sweet-sounding name.”

“Well, what is it?”

“THE WHITE ROSE OF MEMPHIS.”

“I am truly glad to know that you think it a pretty name, and we will have the letters made in gold.”

“When can we be ready to start, captain?”

“It will take six weeks to get everything ready. We must manage to make a grand display when we start on our first trip.”

“You had better prepare the advertisement, then, and let it appear at once. Suppose we give a grand masquerade ball on board just before we start.”

“Capital idea, Sam; we’ll make the first trip one of pleasure, so as to attract the attention of the public. I’ll prepare the advertisement at once.”

The foregoing conversation was carried on between Captain Oliver Quitman and Samuel Brazzleman, two well-known and very popular steam-boat men of Memphis, whose experience in that business had won for them an established reputation for reliability and integrity.

The following advertisement appeared in one of the morning papers a few days after the conversation above related:

The new and splendid passenger boat, “White Rose of Memphis,” has been purchased by Captain Oliver Quitman, and will be put on the line between Memphis and New Orleans. She will start on her first trip at 9 A. M., on May 1st, for the Crescent City, under the immediate command of her owner. Samuel Brazzleman will officiate at the clerk’s desk, and Dave Halliman, at the wheel. The old reliable river man, Thomas Henderson, has agreed to take charge of the engine. Professor Frazzlebrains’s splendid string band has been employed to make music for the amusement of the passengers. A grand masquerade ball will be given on board the “White Rose” on the evening of the 30th inst., and arrangements will be made to continue the amusement every night during the round trip. The grand saloon is eminently suited for dancing parties, and has been gorgeously furnished with everything necessary to make the passengers comfortable. It is the intention of the captain to make the first trip one of pleasure and amusement. Reduced rates will be given to excursion parties who may apply for them for the round trip.

This advertisement (as might be expected) created quite a sensation among the fair sex of Memphis, and added very greatly to the cash receipts of silk merchants and milliner shops; while it caused a corresponding shrinkage in the money bags of doting parents of marriageable daughters. Memphis was then, and is now, famous for the beauty of her women, and the muddiness of her streets. Cotton bales and pretty women seem to be a spontaneous production in and about Memphis, and, in spite of bad government and yellow fever epidemics, she is handsome and lively still.

“Well, Sam, old fellow, what do you think of the prospect?”

“Splendid! we have made a ten strike this time—every room has been engaged, and still they come.”

“Is she not a beauty, Sam?”

“Never saw her match in my life. What’s the time, captain?”

“Eight thirty, and time for the maskers to begin to arrive; by the by, here they come now. Has the music arrived?”

“Long, long ago, captain; everything is ready.”

“Good, Sam; we must put our best foot foremost to-night; much depends on first impressions. Have you got plenty of wines and ice?”

“Oceans, oceans of all kinds.”

This conversation occurred on board of the “White Rose,” between Captain Quitman and Samuel Brazzleman, who were both rejoicing at the prospect of a remunerative trip, which was to begin on the next morning. Before nine o’clock the dazzling lights in the long saloon were streaming down on the vast crowd of maskers as they glided along through the mazes of the dance; while soft, sweet sounds floated out on the night air. Fantastic costumes, sparkling jewels, white, blue and red plumes, rustling silk, shining satin, soft velvet, sparkling diamonds, high-heeled boots, splendid music, the popping of champagne bottles, the hum of many voices, the merry laughter, the brisk and graceful movement of charming women, were all contributing to the dazzling show. All kinds of costumes were to be seen, old-fashioned and new, gaudy and plain. Mary, Queen of Scots, with her rich, royal costume of Scotland, all bedecked with sparkling diamonds, was dancing with Ingomar, the Barbarian Chief, with his savage beard reaching to his waist, and his top-boots all shaded with gold. The knight of Ivanhoe, with his glittering armor on, was dancing with the first maid of honor, who wore blue silk, and yellow mask. Don Quixote, the Knight of Salamanca, dressed in shabby but quaint armor, was jumping high and awkwardly, as he danced with the second maid of honor, who was a graceful dancer, dressed in orange-colored silk with pink mask. Henry of Navarre, with his black plume waving high above the throng, was marching up and down the saloon with the queen of Sheba leaning on his arm. Sancho Panza, with his clownish costume, was playing the clown to perfection, to the great amusement of the children. The Duke of Wellington and Napoleon were taking a mint julep at the bar, while George III. was quarreling with Sam Brazzleman because he wouldn’t tell him the name of the lady who represented the Queen of Scots.

“Positively against our rules to divulge the names of parties in mask, without their consent,” says Sam.

“Well, does she reside in Memphis?”

“Can’t answer; I tell you it is contrary to orders.”

“Is she going to New Orleans on this boat?”

“Yes.”

“Good! I’ll find out who she is, if I follow her to the other side of the world!” and the imitator of the defunct tyrant made his way to where the mysterious queen stood conversing with her Barbarian Chief.

“Who is that lady dancing with Ingomar?” inquired George III. of Ivanhoe.

“Do not know; wish I did.”

“I’ll give a hundred dollars to know who she is.”

“I’ll go you halves,” says Ivanhoe.

George III. and Ivanhoe were not the only ones who wanted to know who was personating the Scottish queen. It seemed to be a general desire among the male maskers to know who she was. It is hard to say what caused this general wish to know who she was. It might have been caused by a combination of circumstances. There appeared to be a desire on the part of the gentlemen to get near her. Was it the soft, sweet melody of her voice, or was it the queen-like grace of her movements? Perhaps it was the profusion of golden hair that fell, unconfined, beneath the quaint crown of sparkling jewels that graced her brow; or it may have been the little provoking, pretty foot that now and then made its appearance as she floated like a fairy over the floor. When she took her seat at the piano, and began to sing, while the rich, sweet voice rose until the saloon seemed to be filled with soul-stirring music, curiosity went up to fever heat, and George III. would have given his kingdom to know who she was. Ingomar, the Barbarian Chief, with his long, shaggy whiskers, stood near the queen, turning the music sheets as the song progressed, and occasionally stooping to whisper something in her ear, which she answered with a nod and a smile. As soon as the song was ended the knight of Ivanhoe requested Ingomar to present him to the queen. Ingomar in a low whisper asked her permission to present the knight of Ivanhoe, which was promptly granted.

“I have the honor, your Majesty, to present my distinguished and honorable friend, Sir Knight of Ivanhoe.” A graceful bow and the queen held out her little white hand, which Ivanhoe pressed to his lips.

“Sir Knight, we are delighted to know you. Shall we have the pleasure of your presence during our excursion to New Orleans?”

“I am profoundly grateful for your Majesty’s condescension, and shall be overjoyed at the privilege of making one of the party.”

“To-morrow being the first day of May, our festivities will commence, and it is our royal pleasure, sir knight, that you shall attach yourself to our court during the trip.”

“I cannot find language, my dear madame, to express my gratitude for the distinguished honor you confer upon me.”

“Partners for a quadrille,” rang through the saloon as the band struck up a lively tune. George III., the Duke of Wellington and Napoleon all made a dash toward the queen at once, each one anxious to secure her as a partner, but with a low bow and a sweet smile she turned to Ivanhoe, took his arm, and was soon gliding through the dance. The British King appeared to take his discomfiture rather hard, while Wellington looked somewhat chop-fallen; but Napoleon proposed that their sorrow should all be drowned in a bowl of punch, which was agreed to, and the trio marched to the bar to commence the drowning process.

“Devilish provoking,” muttered George III.

“What’s provoking?” says Wellington.

“That mysterious piece of humanity styling herself queen of Scots. I shall always hate masquerade balls after this. I don’t think they are respectable at all.”

“Come, come, your royal highness, you should not surrender at the first repulse; Ivanhoe has only gained a temporary triumph, and if you will come to the charge again with a brave heart, you may yet compel victory to perch on your banner.”

“Ingomar had a monopoly until Ivanhoe leaped into the arena and carried off the prize, and I advise you to show a bold front. Strategy won’t win in battles of love. If you expect to win, don’t attempt to make a flank movement, but come boldly up to the front. Remember that ‘faint heart never won fair lady.’”

“I don’t want to win a fair lady, or any other kind of lady, until I know who she is.”

“I guess you will find that out to-morrow, for she is going to New Orleans.”

“True, but I learn that she means to make the entire trip incog.”

“Impossible, sir, impossible; how can she remain on this boat two or three weeks without being recognized by some one?”

“That’s the question to be settled hereafter; she will have to play the game very cautiously, if she prevents me from finding out who she is. By the by, do you know who that savage-looking fellow is who personates Ingomar?”

“No, but you may be sure the queen knows him; did you notice how affectionately she leans on his arm, and how close she puts her mouth to his ear when she speaks to him?”

“Yes, to be sure I did; but she is now playing the same game on Ivanhoe.”

“Who the deuce is Ivanhoe?”

“I don’t know that either, and without meaning any discourtesy to you, I beg to say that I don’t care a copper to know who he is.”

“I hear that it is the intention of Ingomar and Ivanhoe to imitate the example of the queen by making the trip incog.”

“By all means let them do it; and I suggest that we three do the same, and keep our names concealed from them, and we shall have rare sport. Don’t you know that the ladies will die of curiosity if we conceal our names? Let us form a combination against them, look and talk mysteriously, and my word for it, propositions will be made for a treaty looking to a general disclosure of names and the discarding of masks.”

“Capital idea, my lord, and you may depend upon my hearty co-operation. As soon as the boat leaves the wharf to-morrow let the war begin.”

“Perhaps the captain will object to passengers going in disguise all the time.”

“No; he told me that the queen intended to make the entire trip in mask, and that the same privilege would be extended to all who desired to avail themselves of it.”

“Very good, very good; then the alliance, offensive and defensive, may be considered as ratified and confirmed.”

“Charge, Chester, charge! and on, Stanley on!” said Wellington, as he drew the cork from a fresh bottle of champagne.

“Screw your courage up to the sticking point, my gallant king, and with the emperor and duke at your back, move on the enemy, unfurl your banner, cry ‘havoc,’ and let slip the dogs of war. Confusion and discomfiture shall overwhelm our foes.”

“We must win the queen of Sheba to our side at all hazards, as I learn that she and her two maids of honor are going on the excursion.”

“That shall be your task, then—to secure her co-operation. See her at once, and if she will join us, we will have an easy victory.”

“You may depend on me for that,” said the counterfeit king, as he started on his recruiting expedition. “I’ll be back in a moment, and report progress. Meantime you and Napoleon mature the plan of the campaign during my absence.”

George III. soon returned with a favorable report: “Her Majesty presents her compliments to the emperor, and my lord the duke of Wellington, and will be much gratified to have them enrolled as permanent members of her festive court, which will be convened on the hurricane deck at eleven o’clock A. M. to-morrow.”

“Now you have her message verbatim,” said the king, as he dove both hands into his pockets, with a self-satisfied look. “Won’t we have rare sport? won’t we make the enemy die of curiosity? We must organize thoroughly, and make a systematic siege, and if we don’t capture the entire party before three days, take my hat and hang it on the tallest wave that rises behind the ‘White Rose of Memphis.’ We must seem to ignore the other party entirely—look and talk as if no such party were aboard; drop mysterious hints—about things that never were heard of, speak of love-making that we could tell more about if we would. Let all these hints be carelessly dropped in the hearing of some one of the other party, and you may be sure that they will sue for peace and union before we reach New Orleans. Should any one of the other party ask questions (which they will be sure to do) shake your head, look mysterious, shrug your shoulders, and heave a mournful sigh. Do you think the world ever produced a woman that could stand that? Would you believe it, the queen of Scots’ first maid of honor is now half dead to know who I am? Can’t I see how she has been watching me for the last hour? I’ll capture her the first thing to-morrow and employ her as a spy in the enemies’ camp.”

At last the ball ended, the guests departed, save those who had engaged passage for the grand excursion, and they had retired for the night, to dream of the sport to be enjoyed on the morrow, while Captain Quitman paced proudly on the hurricane deck, with heart swelling with satisfaction at the pecuniary prospects before him.

CHAPTER II.

The eventful and long-looked-for day on which the “White Rose of Memphis” was to start on her first trip had come at last, and a mighty stir, indeed, did that day produce on and under the tall, romantic bluff in front of Memphis. The morning was delightful, the atmosphere pure and invigorating, the sweet odor of fresh spring flowers was on the breeze, mingling with the soft notes of music produced by the band from the hurricane deck. The stars and stripes floated gracefully from the flag-staff, dark clouds of black smoke rose from the chimneys, a white cloud of steam struggled up through the black smoke and disappeared far above, innumerable drays rattled along the pavement, carriages thundered over the rocky road, carriage drivers swore at dray drivers, dray drivers returned the compliment with interest, in language not of a religious nature, deck hands sung “Dixie,” cabin boys danced juber, chamber-maids darted hither and thither, apparently anxious to perform their duty, without the slightest conception of what that duty was. A villainous urchin, in the arms of his nurse, was making a heart-rending noise with a tin horn, and a passenger muttered something not taught at Sunday-school.

“Them’s my sentiments to a T,” said another man who had been annoyed with the tin horn.

As the hour drew near when the boat was to start the confusion increased. The pilot was at his wheel, the engineer was at his engine; Captain Quitman stood on the upper deck in front of the pilot house, looking happy, and feeling vastly important. Hundreds of men, women and children in holiday costumes stood on the bluff, shouting and waving white handkerchiefs to their friends on the boat. A mocking-bird in a cage on the boiler deck imitated every imaginable sound with his wonderful voice, while a parrot, perched on a pole near the clerk’s office, kept crying, “Let her rip! let her rip, Sam!”

“How much steam have you got, Tom?” cried the pilot through his speaking-tube.

“One sixty, sir, and still rising.”

“All right; blow off the mud valves and keep a good head; we must make a good run at the start.”

“Time’s up, Dave; let her go,” said the captain. “Run her up to the mouth of Wolf, make a turn to the left, and then let her come down with her best speed.”

“Let go the head line,” cried the mate.

“Draw in the stage,” says the captain.

“Go ahead on the larboard, and back on the starboard,” cried the pilot to the engineer.

“Go ahead on the steward, and back on the cook-house,” cries a mischievous little negro, who is dancing a jig in front of the pilot house.

The boat moves slowly up stream until a point opposite the mouth of Wolf river is reached, then makes a graceful curve to the left, and comes flying past the city with a speed never equaled by any other boat on that river. As the “White Rose” passed the last crowd on the bluff a tremendous shout rose from a thousand voices, which was answered by the throng of passengers who lined the deck of the boat. As the golden rays of the morning sun glanced down against the side of the boat, and played and danced with the painted glass of her cabin, a thousand dazzling streaks of light flashed back, presenting a sight of indescribable beauty. It was but a few moments until the boat passed round the bend below President’s Island, and shut off from view the tall domes of the bluff city; but the fresh green foliage with which the tall trees were clothed presented a scene of beauty on which the beholders gazed with delight. As might have been expected, quite a sensation was created among the large crowd of passengers when a dozen or more men and women appeared on deck disguised with as many different and curious costumes. A murmur of dissatisfaction rose among some of the passengers, which threatened to produce trouble; but finally it subsided when the clerk announced the fact that all the maskers were well known to him, and that they were respectable people.

“How is your royal highness this morning?” said the Duke of Wellington, as he shook hands with George III.

“First rate, first rate, my lord. How is it with you?”

“Fine, fine, sir! Splendid day this! By the by, where is the emperor?”

“Here he is. Now let us commence the siege at once. I see her Majesty, the queen of Sheba, and her attendants, are waiting for us. The Scottish queen has marshaled her forces on the hurricane deck.”

“How is that?” demanded the emperor.

“They have all taken seats in a circle, and seem determined to continue the selfish plan. Now we will take seats at a respectable distance from them—just so as to be in hearing distance, and begin the battle according to our original plan. Our object is to so rouse their curiosity as to force them to come to our side, or in other words, to induce them to come and mingle with us. A little skillful maneuvering on our part, and the victory is ours.”

“Lead, lead, my gallant king! You shall be our commander in this fight. Take the queen of Sheba to the field, and the emperor and I will bring up the maids of honor, and then let the skirmishing begin.”

A canvas had been put up above the hurricane deck and seats arranged under it, in order to afford passengers an opportunity to view the grand scenery without being exposed to the rays of the sun; and this spot had been selected as the field of action. The queen of Scots and her party were seated in a circle, near the stern of the boat, wholly unconscious of the hostile preparations which were being made by the queen of Sheba and her adherents. Ingomar was entertaining the queen and the ladies of her court with an eloquent description of the burning of the steam-boat “Bulletin,” and the heart-rending scenes that were witnessed on that occasion. The queen of Sheba with her party was located about twenty feet from the spot occupied by the queen of Scots.

“Now,” said George III., making a low bow to the queen of Sheba, “what is your Majesty’s pleasure? What is to be the fun to-day?”

“Social conversation and enjoying the beautiful scenery will occupy us till luncheon, and when we have had enough of that, we will then form our plans for the future.”

“By the by,” said Wellington with a loud voice, evidently intended to attract the attention of the Scottish queen’s party, “have you heard the strange news?”

“No, no; what is it?”

“There are two detectives aboard in mask, on the look-out for the perpetrator of a diabolical murder that was committed near Collierville day before yesterday. They have tracked the man to this boat, and have satisfied themselves that he is aboard, and are prepared to arrest him. They have got a man spotted, and are going to take him off at Vicksburg.”

“That’s the best shot that ever was fired,” whispered Napoleon.

“See,” said the queen, “the shot has taken effect. They are all looking this way, and intently listening. They are dying to hear more. Give them another shot.”

“What were the circumstances of the murder?” inquired Napoleon, as he raised his voice and winked at Wellington.

“Oh, it was a most horrible and cruel murder—it was a love affair. The deceased was a young and pretty girl; she had loved not wisely, but too well. Poison was the means used to produce death.”

“There, there, Wellington,” whispered Napoleon; “let ’em rest on that a while. They have all been gradually moving this way. They can’t hold out much longer.”

“Let me throw one more shell into their camp,” whispered Wellington.

“All right; go ahead.”

“There is a skillful pickpocket aboard of this boat, and those who have money had better be on their guard. One passenger has been relieved of a purse containing five hundred dollars. The pocket was cut clean off, and so skillfully done that the owner knew nothing about it until his attention was called to it by a friend. I fear that our amusements will all be interfered with, and that we shall be compelled to lay aside our disguises, because, whoever he is, you may be assured he is in mask.”

“Good, good, Wellington!” said George III., in a whisper; “stop; you have got them completely demoralized, and we may safely wait for the result.”

“Oh, mercy on us!” exclaimed one of Queen Mary’s maids of honor, “we are in the midst of thieves and murderers! Didn’t you hear that gentleman say that a bloody murder had been committed, and that a gentleman had been robbed, and that both criminals were aboard of this boat? Who knows but what we shall all be murdered and robbed!”

“Don’t look toward them,” said Wellington; “the last shot has mortally wounded the last one of the party.” This sentence was whispered, so as not to be heard by the opposition.

Ivanhoe drew near Wellington and said: “Pardon me, sir, but I beg to inquire about this dreadful murder of which I heard you speak just now.”

Wellington shrugged his shoulders, and gave a deep sigh. “Horrible! horrible; must cruel! unprecedented! but that’s all I know about it.” And with a knowing wink at George III., Wellington observed: “Look at that beautiful little island there. See what delightful foliage. How splendid it would be to have a picnic on that nice green turf under such a cool-looking shade!”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be delightful!” said the queen of Sheba.

“We’ll have a picnic to-morrow,” said Napoleon. “The boat is going to take on a large lot of cotton just below Helena; and we will order the steward to prepare a picnic dinner, and we will have a dance, as well as a dinner.”

Ivanhoe bit his lip with vexation as he returned to his party no wiser than when he left it.

“Hold your hand over my mouth, else I shall be compelled to laugh out,” said the queen to her first maid of honor.

“Pray, don’t laugh,” cried the young lady; “it would cause them to suspect something.”

“What did you learn about the murder?” inquired the queen of Scots, as Ivanhoe returned to his seat.

“Nothing,” was the solemn reply. “They all seem to be an ill-mannered, ungenteel crew, and, for my part, I am inclined to think they have been making sport of us.”

“I see through it all,” said Ingomar gravely. “They are offended because we did not invite them to mingle with us. For my part, I am unwilling to notice such silly conduct. I like amusement well enough, but it must be such as sensible people may engage in. Allow me to suggest that we move to another place and inaugurate a regular systematic plan to while away our idle moments.”

The suggestion was unanimously concurred in, and the entire party went to the front end of the boat, and soon were seated, leaving the other party overwhelmed with mortification.

“That is too bad!” exclaimed Napoleon; “we had won the victory, and lost it by all grinning at once. They have evidently seen our hand, and we have lost the game.”

“Suppose we invite the other party to join us,” said Ingomar. “If we expect to enjoy our trip, it would be advisable to dispense with the rigid rules of decorum and become acquainted with each other.”

“Your sentiments are generous and noble, sir, and are heartily approved; and with your permission I will invite the other party to join us.”

“Have I your permission, madame, to deliver the invitation?”

“Yes, and I trust it will be accepted.”

Ingomar approached the spot where the queen of Sheba and her party were seated, and with a dignified bow said: “I am requested by my royal mistress, the queen of Scots, to present her highest regards to your Majesty, and request the pleasure of your company at her royal court. She further requests me to beg you to bring all the ladies and gentlemen of your party with you, in order that a friendly union may be entered into, for the better enjoyment of such festivities and pleasures as may be jointly considered worthy of well-bred and intelligent people.”

“Right noble and worthy chief, most eloquently hast thou delivered the message of thy royal mistress, and it would be extreme rudeness for us to refuse to accept it. Therefore, we request you to convey to her Majesty our most distinguished regards, and inform her that her generous offer is accepted, and that it will be our pleasure to visit her festive dominions.”

“My royal mistress will be delighted with the news.” And as he said this he raised the queen’s hand to his lips, then turned and delivered his message to the queen of Scots.

“I am going to laugh,” said the first maid.

“Laugh as much as you please, now; it can do no harm; we are forever disgraced; we are beaten, overcome, captured!” said Wellington, as he clinched his fists with vexation.

“Is this the victory that we have been fighting for?”

“I call it a complete victory,” said the queen. “Was it not the object of our plan to force them to invite us to join them, and have they not yielded? You may be sure they would never have given us the invitation had it not been for the bait which we threw out to them.”

“I agree with your Majesty there,” said George III. “We have accomplished the object for which we contended, and now let us join their party, and make ourselves agreeable.”

“Be it so, then,” replied Wellington, as he offered his arm to the queen and led her to where the other party were seated.

The two queens seemed to enter into a contest as to which should be considered most polite. The graceful bowing, the gentle hand-shaking, the sweet smiling, the high compliments, and general bearing, were such as might have been witnessed between Queen Victoria and the Empress Eugenie when they first met.

“Now,” said Ingomar, addressing the two queens, “as I understand the object of this excursion to be one of pleasure and amusement, permit me to suggest that we organize ourselves into a sort of committee of the whole, and agree on some plan by which each hour of the day shall be furnished with some kind of innocent sport.”

“We think the idea a good one, sir,” replied Queen Mary, “and we appoint you and Ivanhoe as a select committee, whose duty it shall be to draft a set of rules or by-laws for the government of our court. We allow you one hour for the performance of that duty; meantime we will amuse ourselves by a promenade in the saloon.”

Promptly at the expiration of the hour the queen ordered her court to convene on deck in order to hear the by-laws read.

“We are now ready to hear what you have written,” said the queen, speaking to Ingomar.

“We have the honor to inform your royal highness that we have performed the duty assigned to us, and are now ready to report.”

“Read the report, my noble chief.”

Ingomar read as follows: “Whereas certain ladies and gentlemen of the good city of Memphis, State of Tennessee, have embarked on an expedition of pleasure, on board of the steam-boat known as the ‘White Rose of Memphis,’ and whereas the aforesaid ladies and gentlemen are desirous of contributing as much as they can to the happiness and pleasure of their comrades thereby, and by means whereof they expect to obtain innocent enjoyment for themselves and their associates, therefore be it remembered that on this, the first day of May, the following rules and regulations have been adopted, and the honor of each member pledged that said rules and regulations shall in all respects be complied with and faithfully obeyed, and that any one who shall be guilty of a willful violation of any one of the rules shall be considered disgraced and unworthy to be a member of this association, and shall be excluded therefrom:

“RULE 1st. Her Royal Highness, the queen of Scots, shall reign as the grand sovereign of this association.

“RULE 2d. It shall be the duty of the reigning sovereign to determine what shall be the plan of amusement for the day, and give orders accordingly.

“RULE 3d. No disrespectful language to be used by any member of this association.

“RULE 4th. The right of each member of this association to remain in disguise is recognized, and no one shall be questioned as to his or her real name without his or her consent.

“RULE 5th. None but harmless sport shall be proposed or indulged in.”

“We think the rules very good,” said the queen, “and we now propose their adoption. All who favor the rules make it known by saying aye. It is unnecessary to call for the nays, as the vote is unanimous in the affirmative—and the rules are adopted.”

“Well,” said Ingomar, “your Majesty will issue your commands for the day. What shall be the programme?”

“It is our royal pleasure that each member of the association shall be required to relate a story consisting of events, the truth of which are to be vouched for by the narrator. I dare say that each one will be able to tell something that will be both amusing and instructive. Love stories would be preferable; but no one shall be restricted as to that. Personal reminiscences of the party who may tell the story would be listened to, doubtless, with attention and pleasure. Therefore, it is our royal command that the Barbarian Chief, Ingomar, shall now proceed to relate a story.”

“Ingomar! Ingomar! Ingomar! a story by Ingomar!” cried every one.

“It would have been more to my liking to have listened to others, may it pleasure your Majesty, but as it would be rank treason to disobey your command, I shall endeavor to comply, by relating the history of transactions, many of which came under my own observation in and near the city of Memphis. The substance of the story would no doubt be very interesting were it well told, but I greatly fear I shall bore you all by my awkward manner of telling it. But there will be a consolation in knowing that if you should become wearied of it, you can command me to stop, which order I beg to assure you I would more gladly obey than any other you could give.”

“If your manner of telling the story is as modest and well spoken as the apology, we shall be very much delighted, I assure you. Therefore we command you to proceed.”

“As the occurrences which I am about to describe all have an intimate connection with the city of Memphis, and as many of the persons who played prominent parts in the story are now residing there, I think it proper to inform my audience that the names used are fictitious. I could not for a moment think of parading the real names of the actors before the public without their consent.”

“The idea is commendable, sir, and only serves to increase our anxiety to hear the story. Therefore we again command you to proceed.”

“There’s the gong for luncheon,” cried Napoleon as he sprang to his feet. “Postpone the story until after refreshments.”

“That’s a splendid idea!” said Ingomar. “It will give me time to collect my ideas.”

“Very well,” said the queen. “We will assemble here immediately after lunch, to listen to Ingomar’s story.”

Ingomar led the queen of Scots to the saloon, while Wellington offered his arm to the queen of Sheba, and the party went down to lunch.

CHAPTER III.

The arrangements which Captain Quitman had made for the accommodation of the large party of excursionists were of the most costly and liberal character, showing that neither labor nor money had been stingily expended. The spacious saloon had been gorgeously decorated by an experienced artist, while innumerable historical incidents and poetical scenes had been painted on the snow-white surface of the wall in front of each state-room. Three scenes in “Mazeppa” appeared first on the left as you entered from the front. The first picture represented the beautiful wild steed in the act of making a plunge forward, while Mazeppa is being bound to his back. The second scene represented the foaming steed as he bounded through the forest, with the large gang of wolves in pursuit; and the last showed the dying steed stretched on the ground, while a flock of vultures covered the surrounding space, ready to begin the work of destruction. The artist had executed the work so skillfully that one might almost imagine that he could hear the horse’s hoofs as they thundered against the earth, and distinguish the hideous howl of the savage wolves. The next painting represented Achilles driving his chariot round the walls of Troy, dragging the helpless body of Hector by the heels, while the beauteous wife of the dead hero stood weeping on a distant tower, as she witnessed the horrible cruelty. Then a little farther down on the same side, we see Cleopatra seated in her magnificent gondola, gorgeously clad in her royal robes, surrounded by her officers and slaves, while she sails over the glittering surface of the water, where she goes to conquer a mighty warrior with her irresistible charms. We come next to a ludicrous scene representing Gulliver on the island of Lilliput, standing erect with his legs placed far apart, while twenty thousand Lilliputian cavalry, with the king and queen at their head, are marching between his huge legs. A beautiful representation of the burial of De Soto in the Mississippi river appeared farther on. Many other thrilling scenes appeared which we cannot spare time to describe.

So the guests marched into the spacious saloon. Professor Scatterbrains’s band played a national air, the soft, sweet sounds filling the room with a delightful harmony. The gorgeous display of costly table-ware that adorned the festive board was such as one might expect to behold at a king’s palace. Massive goblets of solid silver, tureens, pitchers, castors and fruit stands of shining gold, large china vases, filled with fragrant flowers, arranged in pairs from one end of the table to the other, while gilded china imported from the East, of various colors, green, yellow and blue, wrought in quaint but beautiful patterns, covered the snow-white cloth. Two beautiful thrones for the especial use of the two queens had been erected at the head of the table, one on the left, the other on the right, handsomely decorated with pink velvet cushions and canopied with blue cloth, richly studded with stars of silver and gold. The charming picture that met the eyes of the delighted guests caused an exclamation of delight to escape from the lips of many a beautiful belle, as they filed into the saloon.

As soon as all the passengers were seated, the captain, waving his hand toward the vast crowd by way of commanding silence, said:

“My young friends, if you wish to please me, and enjoy this excursion, I hope you will lay aside all feelings of restraint, become acquainted with each other, and engage in such innocent sport as is calculated to amuse and instruct. Julius Cæsar said:

“‘Let me have men about me that are fat,
Sleek-headed men who sleep o’ nights.
Yon’d Cassius has a lean and hungry look.
He thinks too much; such men are dangerous.’

“Now, my young friends, the sequel proved that Cæsar was right in his dislike of the lean and hungry Cassius; give me friends who laugh and grow fat—men and women who can throw off the dull cares of life, and condescend to be pleasant and happy on occasions like this. There are times when man should be serious, but there are also times when he should be social and sportive. I have spent money and labor freely in order to complete the arrangements for the comfort and pleasure of my guests, and it will gratify me greatly to know that I have not made a failure. I was gratified when I heard of the admirable plans which your Majesty has adopted in order to amuse and entertain your loving subjects. Indeed, sir, I am delighted to know that our little scheme meets with your approbation; we thought it would afford innocent amusement, as well as profitable food for thought. The Barbarian Chief has kindly consented to entertain our party by the relation of a story which is to be the first of a series to be told during our trip.”

“I hope,” said Scottie, “that the noble Barbarian Chief will tell us all about Parthenia, the beauteous little captive whose irresistible charm subdued and tamed Ingomar, and led him with the rosy chain of love from the barbarian camp to the walks of civilization, converting a heartless savage into a fond and gentle lover. Oh, how I should like to capture such a hero! it would be such fun to tease him until he began to rave, and then to soothe him with sweet whispers from the soul. I would make him gather flowers for me, and then talk to him about ‘Two souls with but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one;’ and I would enjoy such sport so much!”

“For my part,” said the queen of Sheba, “I would much prefer to listen to a patriotic story, such as the ‘Scottish Chiefs,’ or ‘Thaddæus of Warsaw;’ I admire those noble-hearted heroes who are always willing to die for their country, but manage somehow not to do it. The heroic Thaddæus of Warsaw was very anxious to sacrifice himself for his country, but finally took a more sensible view of it, and fled to England, and married Mary Buford, the great heiress.”

“I prefer love stories,” replied Scottie; “give us something like ‘Henrietta Temple,’ ‘Alonzo and Melissa,’ ‘Foul Play,’ or ‘Little Dorrit.’”

“I prefer ‘Gulliver’ or ‘Crusoe,’” said George III. “I do not think I could command sufficient patience to listen to such a love story as ‘Henrietta Temple.’”

“Give me something like the ‘Talisman,’ or the ‘Heart of Midlothian,’ and you may count on securing my undivided attention,” said Ivanhoe.

“Permit me to make a suggestion to my young friends,” observed Captain Quitman, “which I have no doubt will contribute greatly to your pleasure. We have a young gentleman aboard whom I consider an excellent Shakespearean reader. I had the exquisite pleasure of hearing his rendition of ‘Hamlet’ one evening at a social gathering in Memphis, and I have no doubt he would consent to gratify his friends by repeating it to-night.”

“We would be more than delighted if you could prevail on him to give us an entertainment of that sort this evening,” rejoined Queen Mary.

“If we can be so fortunate as to organize a troupe of poetical readers,” observed the Duke of Wellington, “it would instruct as well as amuse our friends. If such a scheme should be desirable (and I am pleased to think it would), I can produce a young lady who can repeat ‘Lalla Rookh’ from memory; and I have no doubt that there are many others aboard who could give us some excellent readings of poetry.”

“We commission the duke and Captain Quitman as our agents to organize a troupe,” rejoined Queen Mary; “and our programme will be to listen to Ingomar’s story this evening, and, at night, to assemble in the saloon and hear the recitations.”

“I shall not be able to complete the relation of my story this evening,” said Ingomar.

“That will make no difference,” replied the queen; “we will be entertained by our Barbarian Chief during the day, and the poetical readings during the night.”

“That will be a most excellent plan,” said Captain Quitman; “variety is the spice of life you know.”

“Yes, and I beg to remind your Majesty,” exclaimed the duke, “that the opportunity to shake the fantastic toe must be provided for.”

“Of course,” ejaculated Captain Quitman; “that is a consummation devoutly to be wished. We can find plenty of time for that. Dancing hours will be from seven till nine, and the literary exercises will commence at nine, and continue until Morpheus takes command.”

“I wonder what kind of a story the Barbarian Chief is going to dish out to us,” said George III. “Will it treat of war, love, or politics; will it tell of battles, and blood, or will it describe sweet birds, sweet flowers, and sweet love?”

“It would be better, perhaps, to tell the story first, and answer your questions afterward,” replied Ingomar. “I shall tell it under protest. The materials which are at my disposal, if skillfully handled, would construct an interesting novel; but I am not vain enough to imagine that I can weave them into anything like a good story. My life has been crowded with many thrilling incidents—I have tasted the bitterest dregs in fortune’s cup, and I have sailed on the smooth ocean of pleasure; and as her Majesty has commanded me to entertain her guests with a story, I shall confine myself to a truthful history of scenes in which I have been an actor. In order to save time, I shall group the most prominent incidents, and set them down in the city of Memphis and vicinity, taking the liberty to change the venue of an important criminal case from New York to the Bluff City. If you should ask me by what authority I venture to change the venue from one State to another, I would answer by referring you to the numerous instances where the United States Courts have exercised the arbitrary power to do such things. Shall I, as a champion story teller, regularly commissioned by a mighty and beauteous queen, be denied the privileges claimed by a little United States Court? I say the venue is changed to Memphis, and when I begin to describe the interesting trial, I trust no one will be so inquisitive as to examine the records, with a view to contradicting my truthful history. If I choose to introduce my dramatis personæ under nom de plumes, I hope my friends will raise no objections, because, while I claim that the acts of public men constitute public property, I am afraid to take too much liberty in that respect, lest I should endanger my valuable person.”

“We command you to cease your continuous talk about preliminaries,” observed Queen Mary, as she waved her hand impatiently toward Ingomar; “no one shall be compelled to listen to the tale. Tell the story, and let us judge for ourselves as to its merits.”

“I obey your Majesty’s commands,” replied Ingomar.

“Perhaps,” said Captain Quitman, as a quizzical smile played on his handsome countenance, “our friend Sancho Panza would contribute something of an intellectual character to our programme to-night.”

“Maybe he will do us the honor to become a member of our literary club,” said Scottie, as she courtesied to him.

“I beg to assure you, madame, that you honor me too highly, but at the same time permit me to say that I have no doubt I shall be able to render some assistance. If, as I understand, it is to be intellectual amusement you seek, I flatter myself with the opinion that my contribution will be invaluable.”

“What shall it be, Sancho?” inquired George III.

“I will repeat the multiplication table from beginning to end, and whistle ‘Yankee Doodle.’”

A perfect roar of laughter was produced by Sancho’s thrust, but the young people became convinced that nothing was to be made by poking wit at him. A couple of politicians, who occupied seats near the lower end of the table, were engaged in an animated discussion which was attracting considerable attention.

“For my part,” said General Camphollower, “I think that our Government dealt too leniently with rebels after the war.”

“I believe,” replied Colonel Confed, “that the views you express were those held by men who never smelled burned powder, or heard the whistle of a hostile bullet; but all brave soldiers who fought in the Union army, from General Grant down to the humblest private, were opposed to any harsh measures.”

“I perceive,” replied General Camphollower, “that you are not being much reconstructed.”

“Gentlemen,” said Captain Quitman, “pardon me for interrupting your conversation, but I would beg to suggest the propriety of eschewing politics while on this excursion. Let the past bury the past—let us cultivate a feeling of friendship between the North and South. Both parties committed errors—let both parties get back to the right track. Let us try to profit by our sad experience—let us teach forgiveness and patriotism, and look forward to the time when the cruel war shall be forgotten. We have a great and glorious nation, of which we are very proud, and we will make it greater by our love and support. It was a family quarrel, and the family has settled it, and woe be to the outsider who shall dare to interfere!”

“Hurrah! hurrah for Uncle Sam!” was unanimously shouted by all the passengers.

“Uncle Sam shall live forever, and those unpatriotic politicians who have crippled him shall be driven into obscurity. Let peace and good will, brotherly love and good faith, exist between the North and South, and let Satan take those who wave the bloody shirt.”

“Good! good! hear! hear!” was shouted long and loud by all the guests, while the two politicians shook hands across the table, and bumped their glasses together.

By this time the table was cleared, and the waiters began to uncork innumerable bottles of champagne.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Captain Quitman as his tall, handsome form rose high above the crowd, “fill your glasses and hear my toast.” Some little confusion then ensued while each guest was having his glass filled, and then the captain’s voice rang out as he spoke: “Here is to the Union as it was in the days of its purity.” General Camphollower responded in an eloquent speech, and took his seat amid thundering applause. Then, reaching his hand across the table toward Colonel Confed, he exclaimed: “Here is my hand, colonel—let us shake across the table, and consider it the bloody chasm.”

George III. whispered to the duke: “Do you know that lady yonder in the black silk domino?”

“Indeed I do not; in fact, I had not noticed her.”

“There is a mystery about that woman, as sure as we stand here; just look at her, will you—she is weeping. I have been watching her for the last half hour, and there is a strangeness in all her movements hard to understand, and harder still to describe.”

“Come, come, my lord,” exclaimed the duke, as he laid his hand on the shoulder of the king, “you cannot deceive me—you are endeavoring to imitate Romeo; he fell in love with Juliet at a masquerade.”

“Upon honor, I have not said a word to that lady, and I have no intention or desire to do so; but I would like very much to know who she is. What can be the matter with the poor lady, I wonder; don’t you see how she is weeping?”

“I dare say that the song the queen sang a while ago has called up unpleasant reminiscences. She may have sung that song to a lover who was afterward killed in the late war. This unfortunate land is full of aching hearts and crushed hopes. Thousands of mothers, sisters and sweethearts are weeping and wailing for dear ones who silently sleep in bloody graves.”

“That is all very true, but that lady is distressed about something that has happened on this boat, because she was weeping before the queen sang the sweet song. She did not go to the table at lunch, and she has been continually passing among all the passengers and apparently searching for somebody.”

“Well, I hope she will succeed in finding the individual she is looking for, if, as you think, she is really shadowing some one.”

“My lord,” said the queen, as she approached the duke, “if you will be so good as to collect our friends on the hurricane deck, we will order the Barbarian Chief to commence the relation of his little story.” The duke courtesied to the queen and immediately began to execute her commands; and it was but a few minutes until the entire party were seated on the upper deck.

The party having arranged themselves in a circle, in the center of which sat the queen in a large arm-chair, Mary bowed to Ingomar, and requested him to commence his story. Ingomar took his seat facing the queen, in a comfortable low chair which had been provided for his especial use, and began to relate the following story:

INGOMAR’S STORY.

“I was born in Nashville, Tennessee, and was six years old when my mother died. I was her only child, and, as a matter of course, was much petted and greatly beloved by her. The memory of my dear mother is as indelibly fixed on my mind as the inscription on a marble monument, though I trust that my poor heart does not in any manner resemble the cold, unfeeling marble. My father was, at the time of my mother’s death, a prosperous merchant, but from that date he began to neglect his business, and, I regret to say, commenced to spend his time at hotels and liquor saloons. I was left at home, alone with the house-maid and another servant, except what time I spent at school. I was too young to understand or realize how rapidly my father was traveling the downward road, but I soon began to notice that he was unsteady in his walk, and that he was becoming cross, and hard to please. I did not know then that he was growing fond of brandy, nor did I imagine that one whom I loved so dearly could do anything wrong. But alas, how soon was this blissful ignorance displaced by a knowledge of the awful truth! My father had been born and bred a gentleman, and, when not under the influence of brandy, was as kind and tender with me as heart could wish. The exact amount of his fortune at the date of my mother’s death I never knew, though I have since learned that it was no insignificant sum; but, as a natural result of his neglect of business, the firm became involved more and more every year, until it finally collapsed at the end of the second year after my mother’s death. When I was eight years old the servants began to talk of leaving, on account of the bad treatment which my father gave them—complaining of a neglect on his part to pay them their wages. I also frequently heard them hint of a second marriage which my father was contemplating, which, as may be imagined, gave me great uneasiness, for I had imbibed the usual prejudice felt by children against step-mothers. But if I had known then what I do now, I should have entertained very different views. If there ever was an angel on earth, my step-mother was one. I shall never forget my feelings when the house-maid informed me that my new mother would be brought home that evening. My heart felt as if it would break, and my eyes were filled with tears, as I let my young mind wander back to the happy days when I had been fondly held to my own dear mother’s bosom. While I was dreaming of the happy days that were forever gone, and occasionally shuddering at the prospect before me, my step-mother, accompanied by her two children, entered the room where I was, and without ceremony caught me in her arms and kissed me. I have never ceased to love her from that moment. She was a frail, delicate, darling little woman, with dark brown hair and expressive blue eyes, and a voice as sweet as the music of the cooing dove; and her two children were very much like her as to beauty and gentleness of disposition. Harry Wallingford, her son, was one year younger than I, and his sister, Charlotte, was one year younger than her brother. She was the very image of her mother, having the same kind of deep blue eyes, only somewhat larger, and her hair, of a bright golden hue, floated in pretty curls about her well-shaped neck and shoulders. Her skin I thought was too white, as it had rather a bloodless appearance, amounting to transparency. The eye-lashes were long, the brows likewise, which gave to the countenance something of a dreamy, thoughtful appearance. I may have been rather extravagant in making my judgment as to her personal appearance, but I thought then, and I think now, that she was the most charming little creature that I had ever beheld. Harry was a spare-built, and as I thought, rather effeminate boy, but a more manly fellow than he proved to be I never knew. He and I became bosom friends from the start, and we were both in love with Lottie. He loved her as a brother, and I worshipped her, because I could not help it, and to be candid, I never tried to help it. How was it possible for any one to associate daily with such a darling child and not love her with all his heart? Lottie seemed to permit me to love her, as if such devotion was no more than her just dues, and without making any demonstrations of affection for me. I am at a loss to know how to begin to describe Harry Wallingford, for I must say that I never had met any one before or since who possessed such a combination of peculiar traits of character as he did. Sometimes you would think he was the most cold-natured, passionless boy that ever was created, and then, when anything happened to rouse him, he would show such signs of passion as to almost frighten me, or when any cause of real sorrow would come upon him, his heart would begin to melt at once, and he would weep like a woman. There was no such feeling as jealousy between Harry and me on account of my love for his sister; being then mere children, and all intensely in love with each other. We were all sent to the same school, situated about a mile from our home. We were kept at the same school for four years, and oh, what happy years were they to me! Not a ripple of sorrow ever crossed the smooth surface of our sea of pleasure, save when my father would come home intoxicated, and then, for a time, we would collect in the garden and speak in whispers, lest he should find us. He was very kind to us when sober, but when his reason was clouded with brandy, he seemed to be jealous of the love which our mother manifested toward us, and often gave way to his passion, and abused her in a most shocking manner. Poverty began at length to make its unwelcome presence at our home, but we were too young to realize or feel its influences as our poor mother did. The servants had all left us, because my father had no money to pay their wages, and our mother was compelled to do her own work; but Lottie was as industrious as a honey bee, and assisted her mother all she could, while Harry and I did all we could to make her work light. We cultivated the garden, made the fires, and assisted Lottie to milk the cow. In fact, we made ourselves useful in every way we could, and in spite of our poverty we were very happy. I don’t think my step-mother would have married my father if she had known of his bad habits; but after the fatal step had been taken, she seemed to have made up her mind to make the best of her bad bargain. No matter how thick and heavy were the troubles that crowded on her, she always met us on our return from school with a pleasant smile; and the same love and tenderness which she bestowed on her own children were at all times extended to me. When our wardrobe began to grow scant, and our garments to become seedy and sometimes full of rents, our dear mother would work till midnight, with Lottie by her side, mending them. I would often drop my book and gaze at Lottie as she sat by the dim lamp, the golden curls falling about her shoulders, while her little fingers made the needle bob up and down with lightning speed, as she mended a rent in my old coat, and wonder if the angels in Heaven were like her. My father spent but little of his time at home, which circumstance enabled us to snatch happiness from the very bottom pit of poverty. I was deeply grieved to notice that my mother’s health was gradually declining, but I did not know then that it was the result of overwork and scanty food, coupled with the cruel treatment from my father. Neither Harry nor I had a suspicion of the true state of affairs, else we would have quit school, and gone to work in order to help support the family. When our little basket would be filled with provisions every morning by our mother before we started for school, we did not know that she was left frequently to work hard all day without a morsel for dinner. I would have worked night and day as a slave to have made her comfortable, and so would Harry; but the secret of her real condition was concealed from us until we had been at school four years, when we began to realize the situation. We at once left the school and began to seek employment, but in this attempt we were often doomed to disappointment, because we were too young to expect to get situations as clerks, and not strong enough to do much at manual labor. Harry was one of those persevering, tenacious kind of boys that never abandon anything they undertake, and, although he was younger than I, he was the leader in all our enterprises. He was self-reliant, energetic and hopeful. I was the reverse of that, and I could not accomplish anything except when I was encouraged and led by him. I therefore submitted to his leadership, and followed him from place to place seeking employment. Sometimes we would manage to secure several little profitable jobs during the day, and every cent we got was handed over to our mother. Then some days we would traverse the streets from early morning until night without finding any work to do, and when this would happen our scanty supply of provisions would grow more scant, until we found the wolf at our very door. I do not know how my father managed to obtain his meals, for he scarcely ever came home, and when he did come he was so much overcome with brandy that he would fall down on a bed and sleep for many hours, then rise and go straight to the nearest whisky shop. It was about six months after we were compelled to quit school that a strange-looking man, with red nose, and bloated face, and very shabbily dressed, staggered into our house, and informed my mother that her husband had fallen from a second-story window and broken his neck. I learned that my father had been carousing with a gang of disreputable men in the second story of a drinking and gambling house, and had staggered through the window, falling head-foremost on the stone pavement below. His neck was dislocated, his head and face mangled, and he was quite dead when his drunken companions went to him. This dreadful ending of my poor father’s life gave my mother such a shock that she was compelled to take to her bed, from which she never rose again. It was not quite a month after my father’s remains were deposited in the grave when my darling step-mother’s gentle spirit went to its eternal home. The last days of her life were not days of suffering, as is usual in such cases, for she informed her weeping children that she was perfectly free from pain.

“‘Come here, my son, and sit near me,’ she said to Harry one day a short time before her death. ‘I wish to speak to you about what you shall do when I am gone.’

“Poor boy! he was weeping as if his heart would break. No one ever loved a darling mother more than Harry loved his; and no mother ever had a more noble, dutiful son than Harry.

“‘You must not grieve about me after I am taken from you, my darling boy; but you will live such a life as will enable you to come to meet me when it is ended. I need not advise you to be good, noble, honorable, all through life, because I feel assured that you will be all that. But few mothers have been blessed with such children as I have, and therefore I can depart from them with a loving faith and hope of meeting them again. One promise I shall ask you to make, though, and that is that you will devote your life to the protection of your sister, Lottie. The pitfalls and dangers which lie in the path of human life are much more numerous and much greater in the road of a young girl than are to be found in the one of a young man.’

“‘Dear mother,’ said I, as I knelt by the bedside and seized her little pale hand, ‘I now solemnly promise to join Harry in this sacred duty. I will follow him through life to aid in protecting my darling sister; for I love her with all my heart, and do here now swear to devote my life to her service!’

“‘God bless you, Edward!’ she said as she placed her hand on my head; ‘this is very good in you, and will be remembered to your credit where good and bad deeds are recorded.’

“Harry was unable to make a promise of any kind, being so overcome with grief that he could not utter a word, but had fallen on the bed by his mother’s side, clinging to her neck, and pressing his lips to her pale brow. He appeared to lose control of his feelings—an unusual thing for him to do, for he was generally more self-possessed than other boys. His mother whispered to me, directing me to take him away. I lifted him in my arms and carried him to another room and laid him on the bed, and remained with him until he became somewhat calm.

“‘Oh, Edward,’ said he, while his eyes were full of tears, ‘how can we live without her? Shall that darling, sweet face be forever hidden from us? What will become of poor Lottie when our mother is gone?’

“‘Can we not work for her? Can we not take care of her? I will help you, Harry. I will never forsake you and Lottie. I will go with you to the end of the world, to help work for Lottie. You are my brother, she is my sister, and nothing shall ever part us but death.’

“‘Thank you, Eddie, you are very good; and we shall stay together.’

“Lottie was soundly sleeping, unconscious of the fact that she was soon to be motherless. We had so far kept her in ignorance of the situation, but I afterward was convinced of the great error we committed in doing so, for when the time came in which concealment was no longer possible, she was wholly unprepared for the blow. She had not suspected that her mother was on her death-bed, but had been continually chatting cheerfully about the new blooming flowers, telling her mother how pretty they would be by the time she should be able to walk in the garden. Every morning she placed a fresh bouquet of fragrant flowers on a little table by her mother’s bedside, and would sit for hours talking to her, while she was busy mending garments for Harry and me.

“It was a beautiful day in early spring when the gentle spirit of our darling mother took its leave of this world. The sweet songs of many little birds loaded the air with their delightful music. The fresh, cool breeze came stealing through the open windows, sweetened with the fragrance of spring flowers, and all nature seemed to exert her energies to make our mother’s last moments happy.

“‘When I am gone’ she said to Harry, ‘you will take Lottie to my brother who resides in Memphis. He will give her a home, and you and Edward can find employment there. I leave you in the hands of Him who promised to be a father to the orphan. “Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.” “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”’

“These were her last words, and without a struggle or symptom of suffering, she fell asleep in the arms of death like one dropping off in usual slumber. Her arms, which had been twined about Harry’s neck, were gently removed, and he was carried away in a swoon, while poor Lottie sank down on the lifeless body, totally prostrated with her great sorrow.”

CHAPTER IV.

The description of the death-bed scene was given by Ingomar in a low, tremulous voice, which showed that he was struggling hard to smother his grief, while Queen Mary was seen to brush a tear from her cheek quickly, as if she were trying to appear unmoved. A long silence ensued, and the maskers sat motionless and anxious to hear more of the story. Why the queen should be so deeply moved by the story was a mystery to many of the listeners. Who is she, anyway? was the question that many of the maskers mentally asked themselves.

“Please to proceed with your story,” said the queen, bowing to Ingomar.

Bending low in acknowledgment of her courtesy, Ingomar proceeded as follows:

“The county undertaker was sent for by some of our neighbors, and was about to take charge of our dead mother’s remains, in order to give it a pauper’s interment, and we never, perhaps, would have understood the deep degradation, but when the plain, pine-board coffin was brought to the house I saw Harry gaze at it for a moment; and such a strange look, too, it was. A deathly paleness overspread his face, as he directed the man to carry the rough box away; and although he spoke low and gently, there was a firmness in his tone that convinced the man that he had better obey.

“‘Come with me, Eddie’ he said, as he gently plucked at my sleeve. ‘She sha’n’t be buried in such a box as that.’

“I, of course, followed him to the nearest undertaker’s shop. No words passed between us as we walked side by side, but I noticed that he had ceased to weep, and that there was an expression on his features evincing indescribable suffering. His face still retained its extreme paleness, while his thin lips were firmly compressed.

“‘My mother is dead, sir,’ said he to a middle-aged gentleman of benevolent appearance, who met us at the door of the shop. ‘I want her remains put away in a nice rosewood case. I want her buried in a nice grassy lot in the north-east corner of the cemetery. I have no money to give you, sir, but we have some household furniture, some of which is very valuable; there are some beds and bedclothing, a cow and calf; give my dear mother’s remains a decent burial. Take all we have, and let me know what is lacking to compensate you, and I give you my word of honor that you shall never be the loser thereby.’

“The kind-hearted gentleman fixed his gaze on Harry’s pale face, and continued to stare at him for several seconds, as if he were trying to pierce him through with the fierceness of the look; then, abruptly turning on his heel, he went behind the counter, placed both elbows on it, resting his cheeks on his hands, then commenced a renewal of the strange gaze. Harry never for a moment turned his eyes from the man’s face. At last the man rose up and struck the counter a heavy blow with his fist, as if he were endeavoring to murder some enemy.

“‘You’ll do! I’ll take your word of honor; there’s no falsehood hidden behind that face—your mother shall have the most cozy spot in the cemetery, and the finest rosewood coffin in the house; there, now, go home, and I’ll attend to everything.’

“Right well indeed did the generous man keep his word, for I don’t think I ever saw a prettier burial case, and the grave was dug in a green shady spot where the turf was very thick and fresh.

“‘What shall we do now, Harry?’ said I.

“‘Do as we promised our dying mother, of course. You know she made us promise to take Lottie to our uncle at Memphis; we must prepare to go at once. You stay here with Lottie, while I go to see Mr. Fogg, the undertaker, and arrange with him about the furniture.’

“He soon returned and informed me that the business had been settled, and that Mr. Fogg would take possession of the effects on the next day. We at once began to make arrangements for commencing our journey to Memphis, as soon as Mr. Fogg should take possession of the furniture. That gentleman kindly offered to let us keep the furniture, and allow us to pay him the funeral expenses when fortune should be disposed to deal more kindly with us. But when Harry informed him that in pursuance of his mother’s wishes we were going to Memphis, he agreed to take the furniture, saying that it would amply suffice to pay the debt which we owed him. Accordingly, early the next morning the keys were delivered to Mr. Fogg, and we set out on the road toward Memphis. We had not the most remote idea as to the nature of the journey that lay before us. We were as ignorant regarding the distance as we were about the means necessary to take us there. We had often heard and read about Memphis as a young and thriving city on the banks of the great river, and when I now look back to that time, I can scarcely realize the extreme simplicity of our minds, and the extravagant ideas we had as to our ability to accomplish the journey. We were too deeply plunged in sorrow to ever think of making inquiries as to the distance or the best route to travel. We might have saved money enough by the sale of our effects to pay the funeral expenses, and then had enough left to pay our fare on a boat to Memphis. But we considered nothing—thought of nothing but misery. Kind people there were plenty, who would have gladly aided or advised us, but we sought no aid, nor did we speak of our intentions to any one. The greatest trouble that presented itself to our young and thoughtless minds was the sad leave-taking of the poor but dear home where so many happy days had been spent. There was the little garden, with its neat beds of new flowers that had flourished under the constant care bestowed on them by Lottie; there were the jolly little birds, singing so sweetly in the blooming apple-tree near the window; a thousand things of a trifling sort, but dear to the memory, were now to be looked at for the last time. How could it be expected that under the circumstances we should make the necessary preparations for such a journey? How could we think of bread and meat, clothes or cash, when our poor hearts were melting with the very bitterness of sorrow? The wonder is that we should have started with anything at all. We hastily packed a few extra garments into a couple of sacks, snatched up a few articles of food, and with eyes swimming in tears, bade adieu to our home forever. Harry moved on in front, Lottie and I following. Not a word was spoken; no one bade us good-by; no one consoled us in our desolation; and we neither asked nor sought it. As we passed through the streets, a strange look would occasionally be cast on us by the pedestrians as we passed them. We saw but little, and were moving on in silence, when I perceived that Harry had turned his course and was going toward the cemetery. I knew his object, and was pleased to know that we should once more be near our dear mother. We entered the city of the dead, approached the sacred spot in silence, and fell upon the little mound of fresh earth that rose above our mother, and moistened it with our tears. Harry had brought a little basket of fresh flowers which I had not noticed until I saw him placing it on the grave. Mr. Fogg had promised to have a plain marble slab erected with the proper inscription, to mark the spot where our mother rested. He complied with his promise. But a beautiful monument now rises high over the grave which we afterward had erected. We remained nearly an hour bathing the cold earth with our tears. No words were spoken, no passionate outbursts of grief were heard; but in solemn silence we knelt side by side and paid the last tribute of love to the memory of the dead one who slept below. At length Harry turned away; I took Lottie by the hand and followed him, and soon we were moving along the road outside of the city limits. We traveled about ten miles the first day, and I was surprised to see that Lottie had not appeared to be fatigued at all. She had walked by my side all the time, her beautiful eyes fixed on the ground, and I noticed ever and anon a fresh shower of tears would fall from her eyes. She was a heroine in the strongest sense of the term—never complaining, unselfish, confiding, hopeful, and when not thinking of her great loss, she always smiled sweetly when speaking to Harry and me.

“‘Are you tired, Lottie?’ inquired Harry after we had marched about five miles from the city. ‘If you are, we will stop and rest awhile.’

“With her usual smile lighting up her sweet face, she answered in the negative, shaking her head till the golden curls danced about her shoulders. ‘Go on, brother, pray don’t mind me; I am not the least tired.’

“As the sun began to disappear behind the steep hill that rose on the west side of the road, and the shadows of the tall trees on the hill-top were growing very long, we began to think of the manner in which we should pass the night.

“‘Shall we stop at a way-side inn?’ said Harry; ‘or shall we camp in the woods?’

“‘We had better camp out,’ I replied; ‘because we will soon be out of money if we undertake to secure lodging at a way-side inn.’

“This was the first time that the money question had been mentioned or thought of by either of us. Harry and I both instinctively commenced to examine our pockets to see how much money we could command, and found that the sum total, when put together, amounted to two dollars and seventy-five cents.

“‘I have got twenty-five cents,’ exclaimed Lottie, as she produced the shining coin from her pocket, and handed it to Harry, looking as if she thought it sufficient for all expenses.

“Harry was unanimously chosen cashier, and the funds all handed over to him, the grand total amounting to three dollars; and this little sum was all we had to depend on for our subsistence. Harry sighed as he held the money in his hand, evidently beginning to reflect seriously now (when it was too late) as to the folly of undertaking such a journey with so small a sum of money. This was perhaps the first time that either of us had given a thought to the question of finance, and those who are inclined to sneer at our ignorance must not lose sight of the fact that we had a double excuse for it. In the first place we were mere children—I being then in my thirteenth year, Harry in his twelfth, and Lottie not quite eleven. Besides this, we had been so suddenly deprived of both our parents that our great sorrow absorbed all our thoughts; but now, when the situation began to be disclosed, it was too late to mend the matter.

“‘We will not stop in a house,’ observed Harry sadly. ‘We can’t afford to incur the expense. We must economize in every way we can.’

“So it was agreed that we would depend on grass and leaves for a bed, and the blue sky for our shelter. As the sun finally disappeared we came to a halt near a bubbling spring that gushed from a little bluff near the edge of a thick patch of timber, depositing our little effects at the root of a beech tree, whose branches were thickly covered with leaves, which would protect us from the falling dew; and soon a blazing fire shot its cheerful flames forth, as the blue smoke curled gracefully up among the branches of the tree. Our household and kitchen furniture (if I may be permitted to use a facetious remark), including table-ware and all, consisted of three little tin cups, three pure silver tea-spoons, and one little tin coffee-pot; while our stock of provisions consisted of one pound of pulverized coffee, four pounds of salt pork, three pounds of raw ham, and six pounds of baker’s bread, one box of matches, and one pound of brown sugar. With her sleeves rolled up above her elbows, her round white arms looking very pretty, a clean white apron tied with a pink ribbon about her waist, Lottie was busy broiling some slices of ham on the coals, while Harry was trying to make the water in the coffee-pot boil. As I sat on the turf leaning against the tree, watching the operation with intense interest, my eyes followed Lottie in all her movements; and I am not now ashamed to confess it—I mentally asked myself, whose wife will she be when she becomes a grown lady? ‘Mine, mine!’ The last words seemed to force themselves from my lips in much louder tones than was intended, for Harry asked me whom I was speaking to?

“‘Is the water boiling yet?’ I asked, by way of hiding my confusion.

“‘I think it is,’ was the reply.

“It is a true maxim that ‘necessity is the mother of invention,’ which was practically demonstrated on that occasion by Lottie’s ingenuity in arranging our supper table. She went to the edge of a little brook near by, selected a smooth, flat rock some fifteen inches square, washed it very clean, and placed it on the turf; then she went back, selected three other rocks of the same kind, only not so large; and, after she had scrubbed them till they were very clean, she placed them on the ground near the large rock; then with a little forked stick she lifted the slices of ham, and placed them on what she was pleased to call a table. When the broiled ham had been placed on the table, she sliced the bread and placed it by the ham, then arranging the three little tin cups in a row on the table, she poured out the strong, black coffee.

“‘Supper is ready now,’ she said with as much dignity as if she had been inviting us to a costly banquet. We accordingly gathered round the table, seating ourselves on the grass and Lottie held a spoonful of sugar toward me.

“‘Have sugar in your coffee, Eddie?’ she said softly as I held my cup toward her to receive it.

“‘You are a capital cook, Lottie, and a real genius in the way of inventive faculties,’ said I.

“‘I am truly glad you are pleased with my cooking; but you know I have had but little chance to show you what I can do. I shall improve very much too when I have a chance.’

“‘I dare say you will, and I mean to see that you shall have a fair chance one of these days.’

“I can truly say that I enjoyed that meal as much as any one I ever ate. Notwithstanding its lack of variety, it was enough for me to know that it was prepared by the one I loved so dearly. Supper being over, I began to erect an edifice to be used as a sleeping apartment by Lottie; and having watched the display of inventive genius which she had exhibited in procuring table furniture, I felt it to be my duty to exert all my mechanical skill in the erection of a sleeping chamber for her. I stuck four little forked sticks in the ground, then laid several small straight sticks across the top, and covered the building with branches cut from the green trees. I put them on so thick that it would have kept out the rain. Then I took a great number of the same kind of branches and set them round the sides, leaving a little opening at the end next to the fire; then I gathered up a large quantity of dry leaves and spread them on the turf, in this quaint little house, took my coat, spread it on the leaves, placed my little sack of clothes at the back end for her pillow, and crossing my hands behind my back, inspected the entire building, and was satisfied.

“‘There it is, Lottie,’ said I. ‘When you wish to retire your bed-chamber is ready.’

“‘You are very kind, Eddie, and I thank you very much; but where will you and Harry sleep?’

“‘O, never mind about that; we’ll make us a nice bed of leaves on the other side of the fire.’

“‘You had better lie down, Lottie,’ said Harry. ‘I dare say you are very tired, and then, you know, we must go a long way to-morrow.’

“Lottie took a little Testament from her satchel, and read a chapter as she stooped near the fire so as to get the benefit of the light, replaced the book in the satchel, then went into her cozy little bedroom. Harry and I sat gazing silently at the fire, watching the columns of smoke as they went winding up through the green leaves above our heads. A mocking-bird every now and then would make the night air ring with a song, as he sat on the top of the tree. The gentle murmur of the little brook, as its sparkling waters went dancing among the rocks, had a soothing effect on my mind. No words were spoken by either of us. We were not asleep, but both were dreaming. My body was still, but my mind was at work. The architectural skill of my mind was being taxed to its utmost capacity. The castle which I was preparing to build was one of indescribable beauty and symmetry; the foundation had been laid, materials for the edifice collected, and the magnificent structure began to assume a finished appearance. But, alas, just as I was rounding off the beautiful dome and giving it a finishing touch, the whole building came tumbling topsy-turvy down.

“‘I’ll die first!’ Those words came gushing forth, and I was as much startled by them as Harry was.

“‘What are you talking about?’ said he.

“‘Nothing,’ was the reply, for I was ashamed to have been caught muttering to myself. I had fallen into a habit of muttering to myself, especially when my mind was very busy with some sort of castle building, which was by no means seldom. The materials out of which my castle had been built were very good, and the workmanship not at all inferior, but the main part of the foundation had been laid on sand, which proved to be too weak or soft to support such a weight; hence the destruction of one of the most beautiful castles ever built. The materials used in the building were composed of pure love. The dome was made of sweet prospects of a cottage in a shady grove near Memphis, with Lottie as my wife. The magnificent fluted columns that were to adorn the portico of my castle were made of long years of true service, which I had vowed to devote to Lottie’s happiness. The polished cornice, that was to make such a charming finish to the four fronts, was made of an imagination, or golden dreams of a long and happy life to be spent with dear Lottie as my wife. But suppose she should fall in love with and marry some other fellow. This supposition was the sand that brought my castle down. As the castle came crumbling down, it was the fall that startled me, and I exclaimed in my bitter anguish: ‘I’ll die first.’ If I had uttered the entire sentence aloud, it would have read thus: ‘No other man shall ever be Lottie’s husband. No, never! I’ll die first!’ Let it not be inferred that I was at all disposed to abandon my occupation of castle building, for I set about the work again with a more determined resolution to finish the grand enterprise; but before I got it finished my eyelids began to feel very heavy and I soon was compelled to lay aside my tools for that time, and was directly sleeping soundly on my bed of leaves by the side of my dear brother. I imagine that I must have slept very soundly during the night, for if I was at all disturbed by dreams, they could not have been of an unpleasant kind, else I should have remembered them when I awoke. Only one dream came to interfere with my repose, and that occurred after sunrise next morning. I dreamed that Lottie and I were on the banks of a beautiful little river, whose deep blue water glided smoothly along, filled with innumerable tiny fishes, and that I was holding my hook in the water to catch them. Just as a beautiful little trout began to nibble at my hook, and when I was expecting to fasten him, a huge mosquito, with long, sharp bill, alighted on my nose and began to partake of his breakfast. I struck at the impudent intruder, and hit Lottie’s hand, who was tickling my nose with a blade of grass.

“‘Get up, brother sluggard, breakfast is ready,’ said she, as she pointed toward the smoking ham which she proceeded to place on the table.

“‘How did you rest last night, Lottie?’

“‘O, very well, indeed; thanks for the nice, comfortable bed you made for me.’

“‘Did you not get cold during the night?’

“‘No, I don’t think I did, for I slept very soundly, and probably should have been sleeping yet, but brother Harry called me at daylight to help him get breakfast. I feel so much refreshed that I shall be able to walk a long way to-day.’

“We arranged ourselves round the table, and soon dispatched our breakfast, and began to prepare for a renewal of our journey. Harry and I carried all the household and kitchen furniture in the two little sacks which swung on our shoulders; while Lottie was not permitted to carry anything but her little satchel. The road we traveled on the second day of our journey traversed a part of the country that was thickly inhabited by thrifty farmers; rich green clover fields spread out on our left, while large numbers of fat cattle were grazing on the rich pasturage. Many beautiful residences, with well-cultivated gardens in front of them, appeared on each side of the road. Happy children frolicked on the green turf, honey bees sucked the sweet clover blossoms, busily collecting their winter store of food. Hundreds of little birds made charming music among the green trees that lined the roadside. The scenery was altogether delightful, but we stopped not to enjoy it, but moved steadily on, with minds bent on the accomplishment of the task before us. I marched as usual by Lottie, Harry moving steadily in the lead. I would occasionally drop behind, for no other purpose than to watch Lottie’s pretty little feet as they rose and fell with fairy-like tread, making such nice little tracks in the dust. Notwithstanding the many eventful years that have passed since then, I remember well how I almost worshipped the dust that kissed her feet. Toward noon I noticed from her movements that she was becoming very tired, but in answer to my questions on that subject, she tried to make me believe differently. I whispered to Harry, calling his attention to the fact, and suggested that we had better stop to let her rest. We halted near a running stream, and selecting a cool shady spot, we threw ourselves on the grass. We had traveled about eight miles, and I began to feel somewhat fatigued myself, and when I was comfortably stretched on the ground I soon fell asleep. We rested about three hours, eating a cold snack of bread and ham, and then resumed our journey, moving steadily on until the sun went down, when we halted, having marched about fifteen miles in all that day. And I was deeply pained to see that Lottie began to limp with her left foot, which I learned was caused by a painful blister which appeared on her instep. I took my knife and cut a little hole in the shoe, so that the blister would not be rubbed by the leather, and the grateful look that she cast on me would have been compensation for any amount of trouble. A description of our second encampment is unnecessary, as it was nearly similar to the first, the only difference being the lack of cold spring water, which we of course regretted; but we managed to make out with the water from a clear running brook near by. Having finished our frugal repast, I set about preparing Lottie’s sleeping apartment, which I soon completed, pretty much on the same plan as the one I had made for her the night before, though I think I made a much better job of it this time. We had finished our preparations for the night, and were seated near the fire, when a strange, hungry-looking dog came up, deliberately seating himself by Lottie, and began to whine and lick her hand. He would in all probability have wagged his tail, but he had none; and it seemed that his misfortunes had not stopped with the loss of his tail, for he had only one eye and one and a half ears, the half of his left ear being painfully missing. Lottie was a little startled and perhaps frightened at first, but when she saw how anxious the poor dog was to make friends with her, she held out her hand and patted his back. The mournful expression of his countenance, and the dilapidated condition of his body, at once enlisted her sympathies, and she gathered up all the scraps of bread and meat and gave them to him, which he devoured quickly, and like Oliver Twist, ‘wanted more.’ When Lottie went to bed the poor tailless old dog laid himself down at her feet with dignity and composure, doubtless thinking that he had found a friend at last. I watched the dignified movements of the strange animal with some degree of interest. He paid no attention to Harry and me, but appeared to consider it his duty to guard Lottie. It was a clear case to my mind of love at first sight. How could the poor dog help loving her? Birds, dogs and men all loved her. The fact is, it seemed that she was made to be worshipped by men, animals and birds. I suppose that with his one eye the old dog could see her kind, beautiful face, and that he knew she was good. Judging from appearances, one might safely conclude that the dog had been an inhabitant of the earth for a great number of years, and that he could form a correct opinion as to the character of those whom he chose to serve. When we started on our journey next morning old Bob (as we had named the dog—the name being suggested to our minds by his lack of a tail) began to walk with strange dignity by the side of Lottie. He was the first dog I ever saw that couldn’t trot; but his principal gait was a walk, though he could strike a gallop when occasion required, and was often seen pacing. Trouble began to crowd on us the third day of our journey—our little stock of provisions was exhausted. Lottie, though she would not complain, was beginning to fail; her feet were covered with blisters, and it was distressing to see her struggling to conceal her sufferings. She took off her shoes and attempted to walk barefooted, but the road was covered with innumerable flinty rocks, the sharp points lacerating her tender feet in a shocking manner. It made my heart ache to see the stones stained with the blood from the wounds on her feet, and I told Harry that we would be forced to stop, as it was cruel to keep her on the road in the condition that she was. I saw the tears trembling in his eyes when he examined his sister’s feet. We came to a little creek, and I took Lottie down to the water’s edge and bathed her feet in the cold water, and wiped them with my handkerchief. I then procured some slippery-elm bark, and made a kind of soft plaster of it and covered her feet with it, then bound cloth over the salve, and was gratified to hear her say that the pain was greatly relieved. It was but a few moments after I had completed my doctoring operations, when a farmer came along the road driving a team of four horses; he invited us to get in his wagon, as he was going on our road as much as ten miles. This invitation was of course gladly accepted, and we were soon seated in the wagon, moving on leisurely, but much faster than we had been in the habit of traveling. I enjoyed the ride more on Lottie’s account than on any other, knowing as I did that it was giving her a chance to rest.”

“There’s the gong sounding for supper,” cried Scottie; “let Lottie ride in the wagon till we eat.”

The White Rose of Memphis

THE
W H I T E R O S E
OF
MEMPHIS:

CONTENTS

PUBLISHERS’ PREFACE.

THE WHITE ROSE
OF
MEMPHIS.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

INGOMAR’S STORY.

CHAPTER IV.

The White Rose of Memphis

THEW H I T E R O S EOFMEMPHIS:

CONTENTS

PUBLISHERS’ PREFACE.

THE WHITE ROSEOFMEMPHIS.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

INGOMAR’S STORY.

CHAPTER IV.

THE
W H I T E R O S E
OF
MEMPHIS:

THE WHITE ROSE
OF
MEMPHIS.