Illustrations.
| The Forest Picnic, | [FRONTISPIECE] |
| Vignette, | [TITLE PAGE] |
| The Steamer, | [19] |
| The Farm-House, | [30] |
| Map of Brookdale, | [40] |
| The Gunner, | [68] |
| Clinton Threshing, | [90] |
| The Forest Road, | [124] |
| Uncle Tim and the Bear, | [154] |
| Saluting the Train, | [177] |
| The Dog Cart, | [207] |
| The Image Vender, | [208] |
| The Fountain, | [213] |
| Wrong Standing Position, | [245] |
| Right Standing Position, | [245] |
| Wrong Sitting Position, | [246] |
| Right Sitting Position, | [247] |
| Steamship, | [279] |
| How the Cable is Made, | [307] |
WHISTLER.
CHAPTER I.
A VACATION JOURNEY.
THE steamer’s bell is pealing forth its last call. The huge, hot engine, as if impatient of delay, seems hissing at every joint, while the dark clouds that roll up from its smoke-pipes tell of the activity of the sweltering firemen below. The hawser is cast off. A tardy passenger or two are hurried over the gangway, and their baggage sent after them with more celerity than care. A carriage, driven at a furious rate, is coming down the wharf, and a man’s head and arm are thrust out of the window,—the arm “sawing the air” in a most vehement manner. But his gesticulations are in vain. The gangway is drawn in on deck; the wheels slowly move; the steamer gently swings away from her moorings; and by the time the carriage is abreast of her, six yards of foam-covered water separate the would-be passenger from the crowded deck. A general half-suppressed laugh from the crowd on the wharf and the steamer reminds the unhappy straggler that there is something ridiculous, as well as provoking, in being a little too late; and, seeking refuge in the carriage, he is leisurely driven off, to be again laughed at, perchance, when he reaches the home he had lately left in such hot haste.
The steamer has now got clear of the vessels moored around her, and begins to move with greater speed. So easy is the motion, it would not be difficult for those on board to imagine that the wharf itself had hoisted sail, and parted company with the steamer, to take a turn about the harbor on its own account. Little groups on shore and on board the boat are exchanging farewells by the waving of hats and handkerchiefs. But soon the distance becomes too great for recognition; wharves and warehouses mingle together; the city assumes a crowded and compact look, and finally resolves itself into that beautiful panorama which Boston presents when viewed from the sea. Even this view soon fades, and is lost; for the steamer is now far down the harbor, gallantly ploughing her way through the dark-blue waters.
