The boys did not like to be daunted by their first rapid, and as there did not seem to be much risk of drowning, they decided to take the chances of getting the canoes through it safely. Harry gave the order to lash everything fast in the canoes that could be washed overboard, and he prepared to lead the way in the Sunshine.
It was magnificent sport shooting down the rapid like an arrow. The canoes drove through two or three waves which washed the decks. Harry's and Charley's canoes each struck once while in the rapid, but in each case only the keel struck the rock, and the current dragged the canoes safely over it. Every one was delighted with the way his canoe had acted, and with the skill with which he had avoided this or that rock, or had discovered the best channel just at the right moment. In their excitement they let the canoes float gently down the stream, until they suddenly discovered another rapid at the beginning of a sharp bend in the river just ahead of them.
It was nothing like as fierce in appearance as the first rapid, and as Harry led the way, the others followed close after him, one behind the other, fancying that they could run the rapid without the least trouble. Half-way down Harry's canoe struck on a rock, swung broad-side to the current, and hung there. Tom was so close behind him that he could not alter his course, and so ran straight into the Sunshine with a terrible crash. The Dawn and the Twilight instantly followed, and as the four canoes thus piled together keeled over and spilled their occupants into the river, it began to look as if the rapid had determined to make the irreverent young canoeists respect it.
[to be continued.]
[HOW BILLY WENT UP IN THE WORLD.]
BY ANNETTE NOBLE.
Part II.
It was a spring evening, so very fair that even Billy Knox had taste enough to be pleased with the robins, the hedges, and the May blossoms. He was halting on his way home, under the tree into which he had fallen eight months before. The balloon was not there; its owner had it back long ago.
That Billy had a home is to be accounted for in this way: The evening after Peter, the tailor, took him in to supper, he remained overnight, and after breakfast he went out and milked the cow. He walked to the woods and chopped fuel enough for a week. Then he staid to dinner. During the afternoon he found three cents in what was left of his trousers pocket, and he put that at once into the family treasury. In the days that followed he haunted the next town, a larger one than Langham. Whenever he earned anything he returned with it to the red house with the sunflowers, where, without any talk about it, he came at last to consider himself at home. He brought in as much as he ate. He amused little Ben, and made his life much more exciting. Peter did not care how long he staid so that he paid his way.