Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad
For, although they dared not
interfere to protect the victims of the terrible Il Duca, the hotel
people fully recognized the fact that brigandage was not a good
advertisement for Taormina, and hoped the "little incident" would not
become generally known.
Old Silas Watson, dignified lawyer as he was, actually danced a hornpipe
when he beheld his old friend safe and sound. But he shook his head
reproachfully when he learned of the adventure his ward and the two
girls had undertaken with such temerity but marvelous success.
Beth had quickly recovered from her weakness, although Kenneth had
insisted on keeping her arm all the way home. But the girl had been
silent and thoughtful, and would eat nothing at dinner.
When they had gathered in their room to talk it all over the lawyer
thought his young friends deserved a reproof.
"The money wasn't worth the risk, you crazy lunatics!" he said.
"It wasn't the money at all," replied Patsy, demurely.
"No?"
"It was the principle of the thing. And wasn't Beth just wonderful,
though?"
"Shucks!" said Kenneth. "She had to go and faint, like a ninny, and she
cried all the way home, because she had hurt the brigand's finger."
The girl's eyes were still red, but she answered the boy's scornful
remark by saying, gravely:
"I am sorry it had to be done. I'll never touch a revolver again as long
as I live."
Uncle John gathered his brave niece into an ample embrace.
"I'm very proud of you, my dear," he said, stroking her hair lovingly,
"and you mustn't pay any attention to that silly boy. I've always known
you were true blue, Beth, and now you have proved it to everyone. It may
have been a reckless thing to do, as Mr. Watson says, but you did it
like a major, and saved our self-esteem as well as our money."
"Hurrah for Beth!" yelled the boy, changing his colors without a blush.
"If you don't shut up, I'll box your ears," said his guardian, sternly.
Uncle John and young Ferralti were the heroes of the evening. The little
old gentleman smoked a big cigar and beamed upon his nieces and friends
with intense satisfaction, while Ferralti sat glum and silent beside
Louise until an abrupt challenge from Mr.
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Up to the Top of the Sky, and Down to the Bottom of the Sea
Category: Native American folktales
Read times: 11 -
There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
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