uite stout, went up
their steep, narrow ladder to the topmost scaffold on the gable end and
walked the ridge of the house when the chimney was on fire." The Chalet
brought to the author's mind "Wyandotte," or "The Hutted Knoll," a tale
of border-life during the colonial period. A family of that time forces
from the wilderness an affluent frontier home and settlement for its
successors. In "Sassy Dick" the idle and fallen Indian is pathetically
portrayed: Dick's return to the dignity of Wyandotte, the Indian chief,
by reason of the red-man's fierce instincts, is a pen-picture strong in
contrasts, illustrating how "he never forgot a favor nor forgave an
injury." This story and that of Ned Myers were published in 1843.

[Illustration: THE ESCAPE--FROM "WYANDOTTE"]

Of these years there are records of Cooper's kindly love for little
folk. Miss Caroline A. Foot, a schoolgirl of thirteen and a frequent
visitor at Otsego Hall, had always a warm welcome from Mr. Cooper and
his family. When she was about to leave her Cooperstown home for another
elsewhere, "she made bold to enter his sanctum, carrying her album in
her hand and asking him to write a verse or two in the same." Those
verses have been treasured many years by that little girl, who became
Mrs. George Pomeroy Keese. Two of her treasured verses are:

TO CAROLINE A. FOOT

But now, dear Cally, comes the hour
When triumph crowns thy will,
Submissive to thy winning power
I seize the recreant quill:
Indite these lines to bless thy days
And sing my peans in thy praise.

In after life when thou shalt grow
To womanhood, and learn to feel
The tenderness the aged know
To guide their children's weal,
Then wilt thou bless with bended knee
Some smiling child as I bless thee.

J. FENIMORE COOPER.
Otsego Hall, August, 1843.

[Illustration: Miss CAROLINE ADRIANCE FOOT, AGE 13.]

The delight of the winsome little lady was great, not only for the
loving sentiment but also for the autograph, which is now both rare and
valuable. Not long after the capture of her verses a copy of them was
sent to her friend Julia Bryant, daughter of Mr. Cooper's friend, the
poet. Miss Julia wrote at once in reply that she never would be happy
until she too had some lines over the same autograph. An immediate
request was made of Mr. Cooper at his desk in the old Hall library, and
with "dear Cally" by his side, he w