ch things."

"So much the worse, poor gal; yes, 'tis so much the worse, for one of
your state of mind needs frequent talking to, in order to escape the
snares and desaits of this wicked world. You haven't forgotten Hurry
Harry, gal, so soon, I calculate?"

"I!--I forget Henry March!" exclaimed Hetty, starting. "Why should I
forget him, Deerslayer, when he is our friend, and only left us last
night. Then the large bright star that mother loved so much to gaze at
was just over the top of yonder tall pine on the mountain, as Hurry got
into the canoe; and when you landed him on the point, near the east bay,
it wasn't more than the length of Judith's handsomest ribbon above it."

"And how can you know how long I was gone, or how far I went to land
Hurry, seein' you were not with us, and the distance was so great, to
say nothing of the night?"

"Oh! I know when it was, well enough," returned Hetty
positively-"There's more ways than one for counting time and distance.
When the mind is engaged, it is better than any clock. Mine is feeble,
I know, but it goes true enough in all that touches poor Hurry Harry.
Judith will never marry March, Deerslayer."

"That's the p'int, Hetty; that's the very p'int I want to come to.
I suppose you know that it's nat'ral for young people to have kind
feelin's for one another, more especially when one happens to be a youth
and t'other a maiden. Now, one of your years and mind, gal, that has
neither father nor mother, and who lives in a wilderness frequented by
hunters and trappers, needs be on her guard against evils she little
dreams of."

"What harm can it be to think well of a fellow creature," returned Hetty
simply, though the conscious blood was stealing to her cheeks in spite
of a spirit so pure that it scarce knew why it prompted the blush, "the
Bible tells us to 'love them who despitefully use' us, and why shouldn't
we like them that do not."

"Ah! Hetty, the love of the missionaries isn't the sort of likin' I
mean. Answer me one thing, child; do you believe yourself to have mind
enough to become a wife, and a mother?"

"That's not a proper question to ask a young woman, Deerslayer, and
I'll not answer it," returned the girl, in a reproving manner--much as
a parent rebukes a child for an act of indiscretion. "If you have any
thing to say about Hurry, I'll hear that--but you must not speak evil of
him; he is absent, and 'tis unkind to talk evil of the absent."

"Your mother has