ank, the older turning away alone, lost in the wilderness.

With faltering steps, Isaac pushes on, and discerns a house. No one is
there, but he knows there must be white men not far away. With quickened
pulse, he turns back to the dying boy, awakens him from sleep, rubs his
eyes, bathes his temples, cheers him with encouraging words.

"Come, Joseph, we are saved. There is a house close by."

Joseph's eyes brighten. He stands upon his feet, walks a few steps, and
falls. Isaac is stronger than ever. He lifts his fainting comrade, takes
him in his arms, staggers on, reaches the empty and desolate house, and
discovers a beaten path leading southward. He goes on, resting now and
then, but ever speaking words of cheer.

At last they see before them a placid river, and beside it a cluster of
houses. They know that in a few moments they will be once more among
friends, and brave Isaac Bradley is almost overcome with the joy of this
knowledge.

[Illustration: ISAAC BRADLEY CARRYING JOSEPH INTO THE SETTLEMENT.]

What a sight is that which the soldier on the look-out at the
garrison-house on the bank of the Saco beholds, just as the sun is going
down--two boys, one carrying the other!

Saved. They are kindly cared for by the soldiers, their wounds are
dressed, nourishing food is given them, once more they are clothed in
the garments of civilized beings, and there are moist eyes in the
garrison as they tell their thrilling story. And what rejoicing when at
last they reach their homes!

TOM CHESTER'S SILVER MINE.

BY A. A. HAYES, JUN.

Tom Chester's father lives in a pleasant town in New England, and Tom
himself grew up like other boys in that part of the country. In winter
he went to the village school, in an old red building with a great stove
in one corner, and on his way home "coasted" down the long hill at the
foot of which he lived. In summer he helped the hay-makers, and rode on
the high-piled cart, and went on picnics to Blue Mountain, and bathed in
the clear brook under the willows. He grew to be stout, hardy, and
red-cheeked, very unlike his father, who pored over his books, and took
no exercise, and grew paler and thinner each year.

One day, as Tom was sitting on the door-step making a whistle out of a
slip of willow, he saw old Dr. W---- drive up in his old-fashioned
"sulky," tie his horse to a post, and go to his father's library,
bidding him good-morning as he passed. He remained some time with Mr