Harper's Young People, December 2, 1879. Various
Walter, seizing the rope. But twenty hands held him back. "Let me go!" he cried. "I must save my father!" and breaking loose with a sudden effort from the men who surrounded him, the courageous youth seized the rope and disappeared in sight of his horror-stricken companions.
A few terrible moments passed, when a shout from below was suddenly heard, and the cry, "All right! pull away, friends!" sent a thrill of joy through every heart.
"Pull steadily, my men," cried the good landlord; "but pull as if your own lives depended on it. I can see them now!" exclaimed he, gazing into the gloomy abyss. "Hirzel seems to have fainted, just as I thought, but Watty has fastened the rope round him securely. Pull away! they will be at the top in a few seconds."
Encouraged by success, the men redoubled their efforts, and had soon the satisfaction of landing father and son safely on the ice.
A rough kind of stretcher having been hastily made of poles and ropes, the wounded hunter was laid upon it and carried home; and as there was no lack of stout hearts and sure feet, the journey was accomplished without accident. After setting his broken limbs and binding up his wounds, the doctor, who had been speedily called in, expressed the hope that Hirzel's life would be saved, but he doubted very much if he would ever be able to climb the mountains for chamois again. Walter was thankful to find that his father's life was in no danger, and had himself so far recovered his equanimity as to be able to relate how he had rescued him from his icy grave, and how he found that the rope, instead of having reached the wounded man, had actually rested on a ledge ten feet above the place where he lay. Walter, who felt devoutly thankful that his efforts had been so successful, was overwhelmed with praises for his heroism.
Nor was the chamois forgotten. The generous landlord had it brought down to the inn from the spot where it had fallen, and sent an ample equivalent to Hirzel's cottage.
THE PROFESSOR ON TWINKLING
Jack was delighted with the idea. Gus differed from him entirely. Joe and I, being girls, pronounced it—horrid.
"Papa wants us to, you know," said May, who always sets us straight.
Jack, who had recently joined one of the college societies, moved that the Professor be cordially supported. "His lecture last week was exceedingly entertaining," he argued. "That he should be so good as to come here and talk to us about his wonderful science in a pleasant familiar way, simply because he's papa's old friend, shows the interest he takes in the family."
"Do hush, Jack."
"My dear sister, I can not. What the Professor has to tell us about the heavenly bodies—"
"I hate the heavenly bodies," growls Gus.
"Is it jealousy, Augustus, because they are allowed to stay out late nights, while you are not?"
"Whatever it is, I agree with him," puts in Joe, who always stands by Gus. "I hate astronomy too."
"Feeling as I do, Josephine, that your knowledge in the science is confined to 'Twinkle, twinkle, little star,' and the fact that 'the moon is made of green cheese,' I am surprised at you."
"What makes them twinkle?" asked May.
The Professor heard this, for he was just coming up stairs.
"What makes them twinkle, May?" and the Professor seated himself in an easy-chair, as if ready to talk.
"I don't know, Sir. Won't you please tell us?"
"Pooh, May, don't bother the Professor with such juvenile questions. He'll think he's intrusted with the charge of the third form in an infant school."
"But," persisted May, "I would like very much to know, and I don't believe you can tell, if you have been to college. Now there!"
Jack was somewhat nonplussed at this, but after a moment's hesitation said, "Well, anyhow, the books I studied never told anything about the stars twinkling, and I don't believe they do twinkle. It's nothing but a baby notion."
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