ng, and
self-reliant, the Indian was capable of valuable services to a people
who offered him but two alternatives--extinction, or a dull, plodding,
vegetative, unnatural existence.'"

"Well, La Salle, if you two Yankees can let your argument rest a little,
we'll go down to the shore, to take a look at the ice, and see what
to-morrow has in store for us," said Risk; and, as it was nearly
sundown, the party hastened down to a part of the bank clear of trees,
from whence they could discern the bay and the surrounding shores.

The rain was falling in gentle and melting showers; the south wind,
laden with penetrating warmth, borne from lands hundreds of leagues
distant, cut down drift and ice-hill with its fatal kisses; from the
rocky cliff a thousand tiny cascades wept and plashed; and over the icy
bonds of every brook and river another stream ran swiftly to the sea.
Over the icy levels of harbor and bay rippled another sheet of fresh
water, which each moment grew deeper and wider as the warm rain fell
more heavily, and the withering south wind came in increasing strength.

"If this lasts all night, boys," said Lund, oracularly, "it will open
the spring-holes and oyster-beds, and give the geese, which are sure to
come with this wind, a certain amount of feeding-grounds which are not
likely to be frozen up this winter. Come," continued he, turning away;
"the geese will be getting cold, and we want to have time to hear a good
yarn before we go to bed."

"It's your turn to-night, Mr. Risk," said Ben; "and we must have a story
as different as possible from the last. You know all about the old
notables of the country, who used to own thousands of acres, and keep
horses and servants as they do on large manors in the old country. Tell
us a story about some of that set, as you used to tell father and uncle
Dan, down at Morell."

"I won't try to back out, gentlemen," said Risk, laying aside his
meerschaum; "for the sooner I tell my story the better, as you will
'have it over with,' and hear a great many good stories before it
becomes my turn to bore you again. My story is about

"OLD ANTHONY WORRELL AND HIS NEWFOUNDLAND DOG.

"In my young days, a number of the immediate heirs of the original
proprietors were resident here; and among them this Major Worrell, whose
estate has since been purchased by the government. He was a little,
nervous, black-haired bachelor, who shared his chamber with a favorite
black Newfoundland ret