s of portly frame and
perilous foothold, engaged in a metrical dialogue concerning the robbing
of a bird's nest, in which lively diversion they assumed to have
participated. And Bachelor Lot rendered "My beautiful Annabel Lee" with
unique effect; and Grandma Keeler spoke mysteriously though hopefully
of--

"Hope and Harnah
Double-decked schooner
Cap'n John Homer
Marster and owner
Bound for Bermudy."

The strange effect produced upon me by the first of these rhetorical
entertainments is still as fresh in my mind as though it had been
yesterday, so luminous was the night with stars; so loud and prolonged
the preliminary blowing of the horn; so festive the appearance of the
school-house, loaded as it was with evergreens; so abnormal the
proportions of the stage, which had been extended to comprise nearly
two-thirds of the school-room.

It comes to me again, the first shock of surprise at finding all
Wallencamp on the stage, Grandpa and I, alone, being left like ostracized
owls among the shrubbery of the auditorium. Our sense of isolation was
only intensified by hearing the sounds of mirth which proceeded from the
other side of the curtain, and seeing a foot or an elbow occasionally
thrust out into our own green though silent realm.

Thrice Aunt Rhoda appeared before the curtain to proclaim in pregnant
tones, "We are now awaiting for Josiah and Annie."

Josiah, by the way, had married a Wallencamp girl and taken her to West
Wallen to live, yet the two were ever faithful attendants at the
Wallencamp festivities.

"Declaration" after "declaration" was announced by Aunt Rhoda, and as the
declaimers finished their parts, they descended to sit with us, until at
last the curtain was drawn aside, revealing Madeline, alone upon the
stage, seated at her "music."

She opened the Hymnal, and struck the leading chord, mid straightway,
from the Wallencampers, all gathered now below, there arose a burst of
melody as it had been one mighty voice.

CHAPTER XI.

A WALLENCAMP FUNERAL.

Mr. 'Lihu Dole--Harvey's father--lay dying, and all the Wallencampers
were assembled in and about the house.

It was night, and one was going out from among them to launch his lonely
bark on a deeper, more mysterious ocean than that whose moan came up to
them from behind the cedars. There was awe on their faces, and a touch of
terror, too, but above all there was a strange, childlike wonder.

They had seen death b