Chris, the model maker : a story of New York

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Chris, the model maker : a story of New York

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Title:
Chris, the model maker : a story of New York
Creator:
Stoddard, William O.
Clinedinst, B. West ( Illustrator )
Place of Publication:
New York
Publisher:
D. Appleton and company
Publication Date:
Language:
English
Physical Description:
1 online resource (287 pages)

Subjects

Subjects / Keywords:
Physical sciences -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Success -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Diligence -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Violinists -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Inventors -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Youth -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Models and modelmaking -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Machinery -- Models -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )

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Source Institution:
University Of South Florida
Holding Location:
University Of South Florida
Rights Management:
All applicable rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier:
028881119 ( ALEPH )
02789567 ( OCLC )
C21-00008 ( USF DOI )
c21.8 ( USFLDC Handle )

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Added automatically
Children's Literature Collection

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Book

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' THE PEOPLE'S Circulating Libraru. 247 Congress St., PORTLAND, ME. (OPPOSITE THE NORTH SCHOOL.) TERMS 2 cents a day. Monthly Coupon Tickets, 25 Cents. I A. B. MERRILL, Proprietor, ANO DEALER IN Supplies of a II Kinds, STATIONERY, PICTURE BOOKS, TOYS. DOLLS, GAMES, BASE BALLS AND BATS, CHILDREN' S CARTS AND WAGONS, FISHING TACKLE, PENNY G OODS, TINWARE, HARDWARE, 5 & 1 0 CENT GOODS, CONFECTIONERY, FRUIT, DAILY PAPERS, &c., & c Our Motto; Best Coods, Low PricH. ..

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BOOK S B Y WILLIAM 0 STODDARD. Little Smoke. A story of the Sioux Indians. With 12 full-page Illus tratio n s by F. S. :QELLENBAUGH, portraits of Hull, Red Cloud, and other chiefs, and 72 head and tai l pieces representing the various implements and surroundings of Indian life. Thir d edition. "It is not only a story of adventure,. but the volume abounds in information concerning this most p o werful o f remaining Indian tribes. The work of the author has been well supplemented by the artist." Boston Traveller "More elaborately illustrated than a n y juvenile wo r k dealing with Indian life ever publis hed.''-C/iurc h.man. Crowded Out o C r ofield The story of a country boy who fought his way to success in the great metropolis With 23 lllustrations by C. T. HILL. Fourth edition. "There are few writers who know how t o meet the tastes and needs of boys better than d ocs \Villiam 0 Stoddard. This excellent story is interesting, thoroughly who l esome, and teaches boys to be men, not prigs or Indian hunters. I f our boys would read more such books, and less of the blood-a n dthunder order, it wou l d b e rare good fortune." -Deir1Jit Free Press. The Battle of New York. A narrative of the Civil War. With II full-page Illus trations and colored F r ontispiece.' Second edition. Young peoP.le who are interested in the ever thrillinJr story of the great rebe llion will find i n this romance a wonderfully graphic picture o f New York in war time Boston Traveller. "The description of these terrible days and m o r e awful nights is very animated."-New York Evening Post. On the Old F rontier; or, The Last Rai d of the Iroquois With IO full-page Illustrations by H D. MURPHY. A capital story of life in the midd1e of the last century. . The charac ters in t r oduced rea11y live and talk, and the story recommends itself not only t o boys and girls, but t o their parents." -N. Y. Times. .\n exciting n :.urative. Mr. Stoddard's s t ories of adventure are always of the thrilling s ort which boys like most to read. This talc, which relates to the last raids of the Iroquois is ac; stirring as the bes t of those which have come from his pen." -Pltiladelj>ltia Evtni"ng Bulletin. Each, 12mo, clot h, $I.50. D. APPLETON & CO., PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK.

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P hilip's st;reet adventure. (I'oge {]/,.)

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CHRIS THE MODEL MAK E R A STORY OF NEW YORK B Y WILLIAM 0. STODDARD AUTHOR OF CR OWDED OUT o' CROFIELD, LITTLE SMOKE, ON THE O L D FRONTIER, THE BATTLE OF NEW Y ORK1 ETC. W ITH ILLUSTRATIONS B Y B. WEST CL!NED!NST NEW YORK 0 APPLETON AND COMPANY 1 89 4

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COPYRIGHT, 1894, BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

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CONTENTS. CHAPTER PAGE I. THE OLD STREET AND THE WORKSHOP, 1 II. THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE, 16 III. ONE SUMMER EVENING, 26 IV. CHRIS AND Hrs FRIENDS, 45 v. Oun NEw PIANO, 59 VI. KINGS AND p ALAC EB, 79 VIL N E W ARRIVALS, 95 VIII. PHILIP' S ADVENTURE, 118 IX. PHIL AND Hrs PRIZE, 141 x. L UCILLE' S NEW S C HOOL 156 XI. PHILIP LOCKED UP, 167 XII. TRAINING FOR WAR, 192 XIII. THE FENCING LESSON, 209 XIV. CIIRIS IS A HERO, 222 xv. PHILIP IN THE GARRET, 240 XVI. How CHRIS CA..c'1E HoME, 253 XVII. TIIE END OF LAURENS STREET, 269 ill

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. FACING P&G& Philip's Street Adventure Frontispiece Lucille's Private Rehearsal 70 Mr. Stimson makes some New Acquaintances 126 A Case for Quick Action 137 An Innocent Prisoner 180 The First Fencing Lesson 211

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CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. CHAPTER I. THE OLD STREET AND THE WORKSHOP. UT was a very old street, in the city 0 New York. As a matter 0 course, it was somewhat narrow. In the earlier days 0 the city, when they laid out the streets that after ward grew to be so old, there were probably ewer two horse wagons and there were no furniture vans as big as houses, and the drives were made accord ingly, although there was more land to spare than there is now. If Laurens Street itself was old, so were the houses. The greater number of them had been built in the times when two stories were high enough for even the city-or three stories, at most. More than hal of them were built 0 wood and that meant something, for it had been against the law to put up any kind 0 wooden buildings, in all

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2 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. that part of the city, ever since the great fire. No matter which great fire it was, for there were several of them, but it came a great many years ago and burned up enough property to make people more careful. Any how, some of the little, steep roofed, dormer-windowed, two-story and a hal brick looked old enough to be the grandfathers of most of the "vooden houses. They were all low between joints, and so the rooms in them would be snugger and easier to warm than rooms can be in the high-ceilinged houses people insist upon having nowadays. Here and there, away up the street, were a few tall, half new looking brick buildings, of five and even six stories, but they were manifestly out of place. Nothing of that kind could really eel at home in old Laurens Street. Large or srnaJl, how ever, and of whatever material any house was made, its front was mostly covered with faded or rusty old signs, instead of paint. There were, indeed, a few new signs, but they had a look as if they felt it and knew they ought to be all the while making apologies for it to the old settlers, the ancieI).t and honorable signs of Laurens Street. The street itself, regarded as a thoroughfare, bad

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THE OLD STREET AND THE WORKSHOP. 3 a worn-out look. The :flagstones of the narrow side walks tilted every which way, and the pavement was foll of ruts and hollows where the wheels of heavy wagons jolted in and got stuck. Nevertheless, almost every house, on both sides, and all the space between them, bad an exceedingly busy and thickly inhabited appearance and There were children to be seen, or instance; chil dren of all sorts and whichever way one turned. They did not look old, or children n eve r do ; they somehow seemed to belong there, to fit that street, and so. did most of the grown-up people who found their way in and out among them. One figure that was doing so, that warm summer would have been worth a second look in that or any other street. H judged height only, he might have been a boy of fourteen, but it did not need the crutch under his left arm to show that one of bis legs was shorter than the other. Still, the very way in which he handled his crntch called attention to the length of bis arms and the breadth of his shoulders. These were not so very wide, but they could not rightly have belonged to so short and young a boy as be seemed to be. His ace was round, smooth,

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4 CHRIS, THE MODEL 11.A.KER. and rosy, and it wore a bright, cheerful expression, well set off by his curling, dark hair and by a spruce and well made workman's paper cap. Under his right arm was closely hugged something or other made of wood, and in that hand he carried a steel square and a file. He tripped along, vigorously, half-way to the next street that crossed Laurens. It was the first cross-street above the great main thoroughfare of Canal Street, where the old and narrow street began, as if it had a root there and grew out northward. Right there, in the middle of the block, he seemed to suddenly disappear. He had not actually vanished, however, for he had only slipped his crutch from under his arm and swung himself quickly down some steps, into a very dingy and very remarkable workshop. Above those steps and against the wall, between two windows of the first story of the house, there was a faded gilt sign that read: GERICH TEN. MODEL MAKER. Locks Repaired. Keys Jili,tted. The letters of the sign were very dim, but a rusty

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'l'HE OLD STREET AND THE WORKSHOP. 5 iron crane stuck out over it and from that swung a huge wooden key, which had once been gilded. There were defects in its teeth ; there was a split in its handle; half of its head was gone ; and it was a dejected looking key. Even more mournful was the key of a burst of brass music which at that moment began to make itself heard ; louder and louder, from away out of sight clown the street. It was at once replied to by a chorus of juvenile voices, as if the children of Laurens Street understood it and knew what to do. One voice was louder than the rest and the owner of it dashed to the head of the basement steps of the next house but one above Gerichten's, and excitedly clown them : "Hey Mrs. Huyler! Hurry up! There's a brass band on Canal Street All the other small feet had moved with one accord in the direction of the music and there were a great many heads poked out of windows, but they belonged to older people, who could not leave their work and come. Up to that moment there had been a continuous flow of sounds coming out of that basement. It consisted, in part, 0 the noise that is made by the

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6 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKEi{. vigorous rubbing 0 sudsy linen upon sonorous washboards. More of it, however, was from the effort made by a ull but not at all trained voice to sing something, or rather several things. All 0 it now instantly ceased, and, as if in desperate dread 0 being too late, up those rickety steps there sprang a short and heavy woman. How such a woman could really spring might be a question 0 mere empty curiosity, but she did do it. She came up with a long roll of dripping cloth in her at hands and these were wringing away energetically, as she hur ried down toward Canal Street. Her abundant gray hair also looked as if she must have wrung it tightly, before forcing it into the queer cone-shaped knot which it orrned upon the top 0 her head. Toward that tip-top elevation, moreover, it seemed to be drawing all of her forehead that it could influence, including her projecting gray eyebrows. Anybody who had gone down into the basement left behind her by that woman would have seen nothing but the usual fixtures 0 a place when it is washing day all the year round. There was a stair case in a corner, going up into the unknown part 0 the house and shut off by a door at the head of it. That door was closed, but another, into a back room,

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THE OLD STREET AND THE WORKSHOP. 7 was open, and the steaming draft of hot air coming through it proved that the rest of the laundry was in that direction. It included two women-assistants of Mrs Huyler and looked like a first rate-laundry. If anybody also had followed the lame boy-if he was a boy-down into the other basement, perhaps the first wish on getting into the workshop would have been for more light to see by. The next wish would have been for more air or for some of a dif ferent kind A tall, brown haired youngster, with his shirt sleeves rolled to the shoulder and wearing a leather apron made for the largest kind of man, had evidently been busy with a charcoal furnace, from which he was now stepping backward with one hand over his mouth and nose. It was evident, too, that he had managed to droi:;.> into it a lump of rosin, and clouds of pungent smoke were springing up to spread. in choking eddies around the room. There was a wonderful lot of things in that room, and there were several persons, but nearest to the boy stood a thin, eagle-nosed, piercing eyed old man of more than ordinary height. He was speaking about clumsiness as sharply as the smoke would let him, but he was doing it with an air of dignity and 2

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8 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKE!':.. even of polished manner, which was strangely out of keeping with his well-worn blouse, coarse linen trousers, and the cut-down shoes that he wore as slippers. His speech was all the more dignified because his deep, guttural voice came out through dense mustaches as white as the driven snow, but it was a clear case of scolding under disadvantages. Philip, as he called the boy, may have taken the :first puffs of the rosin, for he was not saying any thing at all in reply and there were smoky tears in his eyes. Around the room, against the walls, were work benches, with miscellaneous collections of tools and appliances, and on the benches were curious things in process of manufacture, in wood or metal; they seemed to be machines or parts of machines. A large part 0 the floor was occupied by larger shapes of a similar nature, including a young steam engine, an infant printing press, some steamships in their early childhood, and a general museum of stuff that had a look 0 being telegraphic, or at least electric. No gunpowder was to be seen, but there were guns .... and Lilliputian cannons. Just at this moment the scolding was cut off and Philip was relieved, but not merely by the entrance

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THE OLD STREET AND THE WORKSHOP. 9 of the lame fellow. The attention of the whole shop-for there were other workmen, across the room-was demanded by a kind of storm of strong lunged coughing, punctuated with expostulatory remarks. It all came from a large, elegantly dressed, gol
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10 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. he spoke with, as he unrolled and exa:mined the paper, but it was full of intelligent decision and so, somehow, was the very winning sn'lile with which he gave bis opinion. "Augh-augh-well, but,-augh, my boy, you are not the Huyler I'm looking for," re s ponded the obviously important visitor. "You may tell him it is for an improvement in machinery for the applica tion of electricity as a motor. I have several inven tions. I can't trust my designs to a boy, my little fellow." "Take me for a boy, do you ? was laughed back at him. "Why, I'm Christopher Huyler." "That is so, sir. I am Mr. Gerichten," came from the white-mustached boss of the shop. "Explain it to Chris, if you please. He can understand it, if anybody can." The boss spoke with a bow which bad in it a curiously polite assertion of superiority, and there was a slowly, carefully controlled or suppressed foreign accent in his utterance. My name is Selden Stim s on," somewhat formally responded the inventor, and then he added, almost jocosely, as he turned a fat thumb toward Chris: J' But how old is he? Not much over twelve, eh?"

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THE OLD STREET .AND TIIE WORKSHOP. 11 Perhaps the dim, rosin-smoked light of that work shop helped somewhat to make Chris look so very young. So did his voice, however, and hts smooth smiling face, as he merrily replied: "All right, Mr. Stimson. Made the drawings yourself? I thought so. How old am I ? Well, sir; I've served a seven-years' apprenticeship. Began at fifteen. Now, what is this supposed to be?" His hand that held the sheet of drawing paper was well-shaped, but it looked large for a "boy of his size, and his curly head put on a kind of busi ness turn and expression, while his dark, lustrous eyes searched the design before him. It was evident that they were hunting for its meaning with an altogether unusual keenness. "I'll explain-I'll explain," said Mr. Stimson, but he was adjusting his glasses to stare yet more humorously down at Chris, while Mr. Gerichten looked at them both, from one to the other, in a manner that hinted at a desire on his part to hand over a lot of age and dignity to his queer assistant Philip was putting more charcoal into the furnace, but he too was glancing every other moment at Chris, and he muttered to himself: Guess that old chap can't beat him

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12 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. The glasses were in position, and Mr. Stimson's face was still a little red from his hard coughing when he went on, with a patronizing chuckle: Why, Stub, they told me you were the best model maker in New York. Can you draw? Make designs?" "l I couldn't do better than this, I'd give it up," sharply responded the dwar, and a shadow shot quickly across his pleasant face. It may have been a shadow called out by the word "Stub," or by the half-mocking manner 0 Mr. Stimson, but at that moment a sort 0 angry whisper, close to the great man's elbow, said indignant! y : "He's a cripple! You've no right! Can't you see? It hurts him " Ah why? exclaimed Mr. Stimson, and his ace flushed hotly. He turned his head suddenly, too, but there was nothing or him to say, or there was nobody there to hear him. The fiercely whispered rebuke and caution had been given by a mere girl 0 not yet filteen, apparently. She was slight in person, plainly dressed, but she had fine features, and clear, gray eyes, that were well adapted for the expression 0

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THE OLD STREET AND THE WORKSHOP. 13 her resentful, half.scornful indignation. She had spoken her mind, and then she had passed quickly away, before Mr. Stimson, even if he had been ready, could have added another word. He barely turned in time to see her go, he knew not where, and be had to give it up. It may have been a relief to him that the champion of Qhris was out of the shop, and when he turned back again, the dwarf mechanic was nimbly swinging himself up to a perch upon a stool high enough to give him the uses of his work-bench and of a drawing-board that lay upon it. There was a half-finished drawing already on the board, but he removed it, brass-tacked down a clean sheet, and said to Mr. Stimson cheerfully: "Now, sir, i you will tell me what this thing is. Is it something new? The inventor of whatever that thing might intend to be may have actually weighed not more than a hundred and eighty pounds. He may have been not more than six feet high, with somewhat more than corresponding width. When he now cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, however, preparing to answer the question of the smiling dwarf upon the stool, he seemed to increase in all

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14 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. directions. He made the portentous look that naturally belonged to his full, clean-shaven features, all the more imposing, by an attempt to look down at Chris Huyler over the tops of his glasses. It was the visible struggle of a man who knew himself to be a very great man, to tell something tremendous to a being who was unexpectedly small. "This," he said, "is one of the most important inventions of the age. I doubt if you can be made to comprehend it. I will tell you something of what has already been done in this direction. Chapman--" "Oh!" interrupted Huyler, ''I know all about those machines. -I made Chapman's models." "What?" exclaimed Mr. Stimson. "You made his models ? His drawings ? "All of them, sir," said Chris, spreading out the inventor's own design. Now, if you will tell me what that is--" Mr. Stimson began, and he bad the explanation all to himself, for Chris did nothing but look and listen with an occasional pucker of his express1 ve mouth. Mr. Gerichten had now turned back to Philip, but the rosin smoke was gone and there was

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THE OLD STREET AND THE WORKSHOP. 15 nothing to scold about. They seemed to be puz zling themselves around a mysterious crank of the young steam-engine, and they were paying no atten tion to anything else. Not that Mr. Gerichten actually took hold of the engine anywhere, but that he gave orders to Philip, and while the latter obeyed, here and there, a very curious idea began to suggest itself. It was that either Philip had extraordinary muscles for his age and size, although he was by no means small, or else the iron they made things out of in that shop could not weigh half as much per pound as anybody else's iron. He was lithe and graceful, too, and there was not an atom of clumsiness about him, unless it showed itself in a disposition to take hold of the wrong crank or bring the wrong tool. But then, almost every boy there is can explain how that sort of thing can be done.

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CHAPTER II. THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE. 110 sounds came down through the floor into the workshop from the room imme diately over it, but anybody in that room itself could shortly have heard something musical which came :floating down a back stairway from some place that was yet higher. Since basements and attics do not count, that house had but two stories and each of these con tained only two rooms, the longer in front and the smaller in the rear, with a narrow stairway going up between them, for there was no "hall" running through. The first :floor above the basement had a back room, which seemed to be mostly devoted to a prairie-like table which might have been brought there from the auction sale of a shipwrecked hotel. It also held a stove, of course, and a big .one, but this stove was worth looking at, for it was not ex actly like any other. It was as if it had undertaken to illustrate all the cooking inventions that Mr. 16

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THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE. 17 Gerichten had ever made models for It had on its outside a regiment of small doors, knobs, slides, and thumb-pieces, and there were all sorts of struct ures in tin, copper, and iron, upon it or on a bench near it, which seemed designed for fitting on at the griddle holes in case they were wanted. Some of the larger doors were open, and it could be seen that the fire was out but that a great many other things were in. There were flues, of course, and dampers, but really nobody could more than guess what caves and ovens and other mysteries there might be in that stove The front room of that floor had the look of a small parlor trying to be also a library. There were indeed many books, on the shelves of the cases and upon the table in the middle, but there did not seem to be any in the English language. Of some of them, even the letters were very dif ferent from ours and may have been such as are used by ancient people, or far Eastern nations, or perhaps the Russians. The noise that came downstairs was very faint. Anyone following it up for an explanation of it would have found himself at the top of the stairs, upon a little landing between two rooms. The front

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18 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. room was not exactly wonderful, but then it was peculiar. It was a bedroom, but there was too much old furniture in it and it seemed crowded. There were several old swords arranged over the mirror on the bureau. Some parchment matters, in frames, hung on the walls instead of pictures. The printing and writing on the parch ments were all foreign, and they carried large, clumsy looking seals to prove that they were official. In the middle of the swords over the mirror there was a faded brass and leather helmet, with a black horse-tail for a plume. .All the windows and doors were open, to let the summer air drift through, and you could see into the back room. It was a very trim and neatly kept sleeping room, but it was not large, and there were too many pots and boxes of plants crowding each other for places at the windows. There were half a dozen engravings hung in pretty frames on the walls. A set of hanging shelves carried all the books it had room for. Over the plants at one window swung a cage and in it was a canary, and just now the little yellow fellow was singing with all his might, in an obvious attempt to show that he was angry with the other music and believed he could beat it. He

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THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE. 19 knew he could. This, however, came from a violin, and it is always a puzzle what part of a violin most of the noise it makes comes from; the strings do a little, apparently, but all the rest is a kind of conundrum. I do believe I can exclaimed the player, as she drew the bow again. She did so with an almost nervously delicate touch and an intently listening ear, for a moment trying again and again. "How I wish I could she said. "But it's no use There, I know I can I almost didthat's it Oh, how I wish I had somebody to teach me!" Every line and shadow of her eager, spirited young face was at that moment expressing for her a sense of how dreadful a thing it is for a girl to feel how ignorant she is and to want to know,-to know,-to know, and yet to have no teacher. Along with the rest came another shadow, ever so subtle, but a little resentful and a little rebellious, which may have belonged to a consciousness that she was not only ignorant but poor, the daughter of an old model maker, living over a dingy old shop, away down Laurens Street.

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20 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. Not upon that street exactly, but away down at the end of it, and along Canal Street, there were increasing crowds of people. They were all listen ing to the brass-band music which had brought Mrs. Huyler away from her wash-tub, leaving all the beautiful, foamy, creamy suds to go down and die. Canal Street is a broad and busy thoroughfare, but it was more than usually alive with sights and sounds, for up from the west came, steadily advanc. ing, the most stately of all human processions. A number of paces ahead of it marched a rank of policemen, to clear the way for all that was to fol low. Next came several mounted men, in civilian's dress but wearing sashes. They had also flowing crape on each left arm. Only one of them was attracting any especial attention to himself, and he was only too well aware that he was on horseback. He held bis horse in almost desperately, all the while, and kept his stiff in the stirrups. Those riders may all have been mourners, but his was the most solemn face among them. Next followed a solitary horseman in uniform. He too wore crape and looked solemn, but he did not seem at all dis turbed by the curvetting efforts of the good steed

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TIIE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE. 21 under him to get away and charge the crowds along the sidewalks. Behind him strode a very full mili tary band, and the music it was making seemed to utter voices 0 human grief, such as cannot be put into words. Next, there marched on a military funeral escort, with arms reversed and measured tread, and behind them a brace 0 old soldiers led a very old looking but well fed horse carried no rider unless he bore, with the sword that hung at the saddle bow, a memory 0 some rider who had reined or spmTed him through other scenes than this. Then followed six black horses, drawing the chariot 0 earth's last solemnity, with its nod ding plumes, and many more ranks 0 soldiers came, marching with arms reversed. Ater them there was a long line 0 slo"w-going, well-filled carriages. It was all exceedingly dignified and imposing, and all the crowds of boys and others who were looking on evidently regarded it as a show 0 the first class. One man on the sidewalk, near where Mrs. Huyler had found a place to look, replied to somebody's enquiry: "Did ye say who was it? It's the owld gineral himse1. His pinsion's run out." ..

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22 CHRIS, THE l\IODEL MAKER. The music burst out again grander than ever, and Mrs. Huyler stood at the curbstone listening .. excitedly, her foll cheeks as red as they had been over her washtub, and her fat hands still occasion ally wringing hard the cloth which had ceased to drip. Her mouth opened and shut several times before she uttered anything aloud, but she may have been all the while talking to herself, for at last she said: "Isn't the music beautiful Dear, dear, and that's the Ninth Regiment! Ob, dear, and Mr. Huyler used to belong to it, and how well they do march. Poor Chris! He can't ever be a soldier. He couldn't belong to a regiment. Philip could, though. He could be as good a soldier as any 0 em. Chris can't do anything. Not anything much. Poor Chris! Why couldn't he have been as strong as Philip?" Were they brothers, then, Chris and Philip, and bad all the chances or success in life, and for making something out 0 himself, gone to the share 0 the straight and vigorous younger b_rother? At that very moment, down in the Gerichten workshop, Christopher Huyler, the dwarf cripple, ( who could not be expected to do anything, looked

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THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE: 23 up at Mr. Stimson, the portly, we11-dressed inventor, and remarked very confidently : "Yes, sir, I see what your idea is, but it won't do. You can't make it work. Come in again in a day or two. 1'11 make some drawings right away. I guess I can show you how it can be done." "We11, yes, certainly," responded Mr. Stimson superbly, and yet with an air 0 some hesitation, and with a ace that glowered a little over his gold nms. "I will leave you my own drawing to-to give you my idea. I will come again to-morrow and give you any further explanation that you may require." "Oh, no," chirruped Chris. "I don't need your drawing. Keep it--" "I will do so, then," graciously replied Mr. Stirn son. "Particularly as it contains the further secret 0 my invention. It is the-ah-the great applica tion 0 it." "Perfectly sa-fe, sir," Chris assured him. couldn't find it out from that. I couldn't. nobody could." "They Guess Whether or not that reply contained any com pliment to Mr. Stimson's ability as a drau g htsman, who could make a design which would hide com. 3

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24 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. pletely what it was meant for, he rolled up his precious sheet of paper, secret and all, and turned away toward the steep steps leading to the street and left the shop, while Chris turned again to his workbench, and old Mr. Gerichten across the shop sent an exceedingly polite bow after his departing customer. Philip had been near enough to hear Chris, and he was grinning, not bowing. Away upstairs, two stories above them, a busy violin bow had paused for a moment, and a low, thoughtful voice remarked : What a pompous old thing I wish poor Chris never bad to be put in mind of his size. It hurts him so. I know it does. It's too bad. -He is too proud to let anybody see that it hurts him, though. He's just the kindest, best fellow that ever was, but some people haven't any feelings." The canary bird had stopped making bis kind of music the moment she held her violin bow still, and now he stood and looked at her, with his head cocked on one side, as much as to say : "There, I've beaten that fiddle. I can outsing any fiddle." He had certainly performed well, quite as well as

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THE INSIDE OF THE HOUSE. 25 i that violin had only been playing an intentional accompaniment to his vocal music, but it did not begin again right away, or Lucille Gerichten was thinking, and she looked as i she were thinking very hard indeed.

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CHAPTER III. ONE SUMMER EVENING. DT was after the usual supper time, and all the work of the day was supposed to be done. Everybody whose day of toil ended at six or earlier might be taking a re st, and if anyone could have listened to all of them, young and old, particularly to the boys and girls, all over the city, so as to know what they were saying or think ing, it would have been a wonderful jumble, for no two of them would have been alike. One of them, for instance, was saying in a half. disappointed, half angry tone : "I'm like a sieve. It's of no use to pour any thing into me. It won't stay." He did not look at all like a sieve, however he might feel. He seemed to be all alone, too, and yet he was not apparently talking to himself. It was more as if he spoke to somebody who was not there, excepting in what might be called his mind's eye. People do more of that kind of talking than they 26

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. ONE SUl\Il\IER EVENING are aware 0, and the comfort 0 it is that there is nu talking back and they can say what they please. There was no answer, therefore, but he wore an exceedingly dejected look as he sat and stared at the window. It was as i he felt like giving up something or other, and yet he was the very vigor ous young fellow who had been scolded by Mr. Gerichten so dignifiedly for putting rosin in the furnace. The room he was in was a sort 0 coop, or it was the corner front room 0 the second-story 0 Mrs. Huyler's house, over the door. It contained, with some difficulty, a narrow bed, the chair he sat in, and a table which was nearly covered up by a large book which lay open before him. It was a some what tattered book, but, whether bought or bor rowed, it was an anatomical work of the heaviest kind, rich with illustrative plates. For a while, tip to the moment when he spoke aloud, he had seemed to be intensely interested in that book, but it may have been too much for him. Next thing, he leaned back and gazed at the ceiling, looking more discouraged than ever. His ace was not exactly handsome at any time, although there were signs 0 fun in it, and 0 cour-

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28 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. age, but some people would have said that his thick, short-cut brown hair was too stiff, his forehead too low and broad, and that he looked more like a boy who could train for an athlete, some day, than for any kind of college. Just now, all the lines around his mouth and eyes were at work as if something pained him and he was angry about it. ''I'm kind of made of iron," he said. "Nothing makes any impression on me, inside or outside. I don't believe you could :file anything into me. Not anything I wanted to remember. Nor punch it in. What's the matter? And what's the use of study ing, for such a fellow as I am ? Nobody told him, arid after a moment of silence he explained to whom he was talking. "No, Chris," he said, "you're all wrong about it. It isn't in me. I've studied an hour every morning, just as you told me, and more 'n you know of, every evening. It all gets away. Now, if I had your head and my body, I could do almost anything. I wish I knew just how you are made up, though. There's something in you that's going wrong. I know enough to know that. Your machinery isn't like any other man's, anyhow.-l'm going to quit this and take a walk."

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ONE SUMMER EVENING. 29 He arose and he picked up, to get it out of his way, the heavy old-fashioned chair h e had been sitting in. It was a massive thing, but it came up and went out, almost at arm's length, was moved and put down again, very much as i: it had been without any weight to speak of. l a man were made of iron, or of steel, as Philip said he was, that is the way in which he would handle heavy furniture. The next thing he did was to look himself all over, with some help from a hand-glass that he took down from the wall. Of course he did not nO'w wear any leather apron, but it was really noticeable how compl e tely he had washed away, brushed away, and changed away every trace of the grimy model shop. He did not look at all like a workman, except that his hands had a hardened sinewy app ea rance, and his perfectly laund ered white collar arose above a bright blue necktie. How could it be that a boy of fifteen, working for a living and learn ing a trade, could get np in that kind of style, for an evening walk? To be sure, he wore only a summer suit of common blue :flannel, but then .it fitted him and somehow or other he was himself so well made that clothes looked wel1 on him. His

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30 CHRIS, TIIE MODEL MAKER. tough young frame lifted itself and moved about without any effort, and that is the great secret of grace in motion. So, if Philip was not handsome, he looked very well, for his cheap straw hat was fresh and his brown-leather shoes had a base-ball nine suggestion. Any captain of a nine would have picked him out at once for a good fielder. It was a summer evening, but it was not yet time by an hour or so for dusk to settle down among the streets and homes of the great city. It was a good time, however, for almost everybody to be out of doors, especially if they lived in such streets as Laurens, where most of the houses were good places to get out of in hot weather. So the stoops were generally full, and the narrow sidewalks ; but along the there were now long lines of empty carts, of all sorts, whose tired horses had left them there and gone to their stables for rest and hay. Almost everybody seemed disposed, to be polite enough to everybody else, and Philip, as he walked out and up. the street nodded in all directions to people he knew, even to a boy of his own size who shouted: "Hullo, dude, where 're ye goin Phil's answer was only a laugh, as he hurried

PAGE 40

ONE SUMMER EVENING. 31 along a little, but if that boy critic had been nearer, be might have seen an embarrassed flush shoot up from the young model maker's cheeks to his fore head and bis hair. It takes a tremendously strong boy to stand ridicule, especially such small, sbarp poin ted ridicule as pricks him concerning bis per sonal appearance. Some fellows can be bit harder on a new necktie than they could on their noses, any day. vVhether or not Philip was over sensitive, as well as very muscular, he was now walking pretty briskly and looking right ahead 0 him, at something, or it might be. somebody, away up the street. "Why, that's Lucille he said, and or a moment he walked onward yet more rapidly. He vvas correct, 0 course, or the room ill" the Gerichten upper story was now left to the canary and the flowers, and Lucille had followed the general tendency to get out 0 doors. She was still very plainly dressed, but there was about her acer tain something which did not seem to belong to the crowded front stoops 0 Laurens Street. It seemed entirely natural that, when out 0 doors, she should be seen on her way up town, getting away from a place which did not fit her.

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32 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. There is a curious problem, right there: Why is it that some young people, boys or girls, expect to go up, and others expect it 0 them? Why isn't every fellow expected to rise in the world ? Per haps the two expectations trot together, like horses in a team, and i a fellow doesn't intend to climb and doesn't show that he means to, other people will expect to see him stay where he is or go down hill. Philip was not now considering any kind 0 prob lem. Neither was he apparently trying to catch up with Lucille, although he was only a very short distance behind her. He seemed contented to keep at about such a distance, while she went on paRt several squares. H she, for her part, had no problem to carry, she had a sort 0 portfolio under one arm, and she went ahead as i some errand led her. She had not once looked behind her, and she paid very little atten tion to either the people or the houses she was pass ing. Some 0 them, both people and houses, were worth looking away from, for there was a great deal 0 poverty, here and there, and altogether too much 0 the kinds 0 evil that make poverty. That is, for instance, there was a liquor-shop at almost

PAGE 42

ONE SUMMER EVENING. 33 every corner, and there is no law compelling the keepers to put up "Poison," with a death's-head and bones, over the doors. The druggists are compelled to paste such lab e ls on the poisons they sel1, and evel'ybody ought to be treated alike. "There!" exclaimed Philip. "Those hood lums!" WhateYer he meant by that, he suddenly went ahead, at a moment when Lucille slackened her pace and her face bad put on a timid, almost frightened look. Down the street and on the same side of it, walk ing arm in arm and svvinging along in loaferish insolence, came a couple of young fellows who were probably not much older than Philip and certainly were not much larger. They were not very badly dressed and they bad succeeded in putting on a jaunty, "tigerish" air, as if they were out for some sort of ad venture; ready to do anything that called for courage, daring, and all that sort of thing, like scalping a tribe of Indians, fighting pirates, or kill ing the kind of buffaloes that are slaughtered in such droves by the ten-cent novel writers. They were indeed daring fellows, for there were no grown-up men very near, and the jolly exploit of

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34 CHRIS, THE 1\IODEL MAKER. sweeping the sidewalk could be performed to per fection. That is, it could have been, so far as two or three old women and a lot 0 children, a cat and an organ-grinder, were concerned. It could have been, even or Lucille Gerichten, and she was evi dently thinking of going out into the street to let the brave fellows go by, when somebody in a blue :flannel suit stepped swiftly past her. Why, it's Philip she exclaimed, with sigh 0 relief. "Get out, Dude!" shouted one 0 the rushing, swinging adventurers, as they gallantly pushed along the narrow walk. He was only one boy, not too large, and he looked, just then, decidedly trim and neat. Not at all wild, ruffianly, or piratical. Still he did not get out 0 their way, and in a moment more it seemed to them as if they had run against some thing. Against something hard and firm, like a post, or a snag, or it might be a machine 0 some kind. Not that he struck either 0 them or seemed inclined to fight ; he did not even speak, but the rush sweep changed hands. Instead 0 their doing it, he did it. Instead 0 sweeping, they were swept. One after the other, m quick success10n,

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ONE SUMMER EVENING. 35 they were swung from the sidew alk and over into the gutter. Moreover, each in turn uttered a sharp ye11, as if the hands which took hold of him hurt him, and if surprise is ever painful, their faces expressed a painful amount of surprise. "That's Philip!" exclaimed Lucille. "Oh, dear! Aren't they dreadful be strong, though Father says he is made of iron." That idea, or one like it, may have occurred to the two rushers. They did, indeed, look threaten ing for a moment. They even said threatening things, in a curious, mixed language of slang and profanity, but they did not come any nearer. At the same moment there arose a little chorus of derisive laughing and hand-clapping from a crowded stoop near by. It was only too plain that their evening's adventures had gone wrong, just then, and they were quite willing to vanish around the next corner, leaving the remainder of Laurens Street unswept. And yet it sadly needed sweeping They had escaped, so to speak, and the street was safe; but Philip had by no means escaped, and he was aware of a strong wish that he could do so . He did not feel safe at all, and when he turned toward Lucille and lifted his bat he was blushing

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36 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. furiously, and the bow he made, hat in hand, might have put her in mind of her own father, except that Phil had not quite caught the knack of it. "I'm so glad you were here she said. I was half scared, for a moment." She said it in an entirely natural and unconcerned manner. It had been, to her, in fact, very much as if she bad seen him take up something heavy in the shop and put it out of the way, as she had seen him do a hundred times. She had not been at all sur prised at his being able to do it, for it was expected of him. He, on the other hand, hardly knew what to expect, and it was just as well that the circum stances helped him. The street itself was one of the circumstances, for it ran parallel, at only a short distance, with the great business thoroughfare of New York, and he thought at once of the wider sidewalks over there. "Broad way is pleasanter," he said. "Why don't you get out of this into Broad way?" "I guess I will," she said. "Weren't they dread ful! But I was going up to sketch a big tree in Washington Square. Then I was going to Fifth Avenue."

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ONE SUMMER EVENING. 37 "You'd better go around by Broadway," persisted Philip. Perhaps you might find something to sketch there." "Yes, let us," she said. "It will be pleasanter walking. It won't be much further." Perhaps Phil was finding it pleasanter, and per haps not; but he was wa.lking along at her side very much as if he could not get away or did not know how. The explanation Lucille gave of her intended route was very plain, for Laurens Street went straight on to the broad, open space, full of great trees, known as W asbington Square, and directly across that square was the beginning of Fifth Avenue, which was lined with the most costly and beautiful residences in the city. Phil and Lucille turned to the right at a corner, however, and in a few minutes more they were on Broad way, the longest business street in all the world, and one of the best built also. It was quiet now, for all its stores were closed, and their greenpainted, steel roller shutters gave them a prisonish look. There were foot-passengers coming and going; the omni buses were not quite all gone; a carriage or two could be seen and great express wagons ; but it

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... 38 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. had a deserted, dreary look, after all; and all the more so because there was so much daylight. It was as if something had happened and business bad been cut off too early. "I don't like it," said Lucille. "Let's hurry on. I bate Broadway, anyhow." "\V ell," replied Phil doubtfully, "it's where most of the money is made." "I don't care if it is exclaimed Lucille. "I wouldn't be a working girl in one of those great concerns for anything. There are thousands of them. The way they have to work is awful. They are paid almost nothing, too. I'd rather die than earn my living that way! I wish I was a boy. Boys have a better chance." "It's pretty hard for b oys, too," said Phil, but then he was silent. So was Lucille, for she was thinking, and she had been almost surprised into letting out one of the troubles which were haunting her. It was very natural that such thoughts about the future should come to the daughter of a model maker living over a shop on Laurens Street. The great, :five-.stmy buildings she was passing might well look down upon her with their hundreds of window-eyes and seem to say: /

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ONE SUMMEH. EVENING. 39 "Here we are; we are waiting for you. Poor girls must work for what they can get. There is no other chance. It's worse for them than it is for boys." Whether or not Lucille heard them speaking to her, that was really what she was listening to in her own mind as she and Phil walked on side by side, and it made her silent. He was glad of it, and yet he wished she would say something or other, for he could not. He was very glad, there fore, that they had not so very far to go before they could once more turn to the left and make for the green grass and the shade, and the very great respectability of Washington Square. Phil's thoughts had troubled him all the way, and there had been a terrible lot of them. One of them that was dreadful repeatedly told him that he had never before walked a whole square with a young lady. Another asked him on which side of her he ought to ? He thought of how he was dressed, too, and was glad she was not dressed any better than she was, .but he was compelled to say that she even had a stylish look, very different from that of most other Laurens Street girls. "I know how that is," he said to himself, "Chris 4

PAGE 49

. ,. 40 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. told me. Old Gerichten is descended from the Ger man and Austrian nobility. Lucille's ancestors were counts and barons. Maybe they were dukes and princes. Her father won't let her be a shop girl. Chris says he won't let her be anything. He won't let her do anything. He'll hardly let her learn how to cook. Ob, but isn't he a queer old duck!" Whether or not Lucille Gerichten was to be con. sidered as a kind of stranded aristocrat, she was at this moment thinking of something very common place. She had seated herself upon a bench under one of the trees of the square, and her portfolio was open in her lap. At no great distance beyond her was one of the ugliest, that is most picturesque, of all the trees, o1; it was an aged maple, whose giant arms were withering and more than half of them were leafless in midsummer. On the other halthe dead and living branches seemed to mingle strangely-there was luxuriant foliage, just as in all the city around there were riches and culture and much good side by side with poverty, ignorance, and vice. l anybody wanted another illustration, Lau rens Street ran into the square from the south, such as it was, and ran out on the northern side as Fifth A venue. It was a curious old tree, but Phil could

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ONE SUMMER EVENING. 41 not find upon it anywhere what seemed to him a good excuse or running away and leaving Lucille to finish her sketching all by herself. He might per haps have found one on some other tree, but that an idea was growing within him that he was some how in charge of Miss Gerichten and responsible or her safe return home. It was an awful responsi bility indeed for a boy of fifteen to have thrust upon him, but it made him feel at least an inch taller. Besides that, it made him think of his muscles and of how easily he had pitched away those two loafers." It was only a sketch, and Lucille shut up her portfolio with a dissatisfied air, but something more than the tangled outlines of that tree had interfered with her good temper, for she said to herself: "Dear me, I wish Phil would go home, but he won't-he doesn't know enough. I don't want any boy tagging after me." It was true that she was really a trifle younger in mere months than he, but she was conscious of an idea that s4e, a girl, was twice as old as he, a boy, could think of being. She did not know how strong was another idea, that be was only a work-

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42 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. boy in her father's shop and that she was something more than a work-girl. So she was, but, in a moment more, she and Phil were walking out 0 the square and into the bioad, well-paved, well-lighted Fifth Avenue, where the old aristocracy lived, i the city really had any, and the merchant princes, and the bankers, and a great many other men who had piles 0 money. Both 0 them knew what a princely place they were in, and it was really very pleasant for a summer evening stroll. It was so much so, and there was so much to see and think 0, that they had hardly anything to say, square after square. Perhaps it was Phil's fault that Lucille had the inner hal 0 the sidewalk so nearly to hersel-f, but at last she stood still and he came closer. It was on a cross-street corner ; and over on the other side, routing the avenue, was a residence which was airly to be called a palace. It was a large, splendid building, built 0 a stone which had once been white, and it stood detached, so that no other touched it. Its windows were all ablaze with light, and the curbstones around it were lined with carriages. A carpet came down from the entrance and crept across the sidewalk, so that the elegantly dressed people who were getting out

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ONE SUMMER EVENING. 43 of the carriages were almost as if they stepped at once into the house. Why exclaimed Lucille, I thought all the rich people were away in summer. They go into the country or to Europe. There's to be a party. But how beautiful the house is I wish I could sketch it and put in the light and the shadows. I can't now, though; it's getting too dark." "I know what it is," said Phil, I heard that cop say so-it's pictures; he's to show them a lot that have just come from Europe. One of 'em cost sixty thousand dollars Such a waste of money But then he has heaps of it." "Pictures?" said Lucille. "How I wish I could see them He's one of the richest men in the world. He ca n buy anything. Hear the music, Phil They're going to dance, too. Isn't it wonder ful to be so rich "I don't care exclaimed Phil. "I'd like to see the inside of that house. I'd like to go all over it and see how they live in it, every room from top to bottom." "It's all beautiful," began Lucille, and then she was silent. Neither of them knew how exactly they were

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44 CHRIS, TilE MODEL MAKER. like all the other boys and girls in all the world. Every one of them, no matter how poor, is sure to see some house that sets agoing the idea that it would be fine to live in a palace, or at least to look in and look around and know what a palace is.

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CHAPTER IV. CHRIS .AND HIS FRIENDS. DHERE is nothing greater than a great city, unless it is the great country. Of course, particularly in summer time, anybody compelled to stay in a city would very much prefer to be out among fields and trees and where things are growing. Not many people can do just as they please, however, and all the rest must do the best they can. That very evening and at that very hour, a large theatre building, in another part of the city, was doing duty as a concert hall. It was just the place for such an entertainment, and it was thronged with lovers of music. It was a strong attraction in
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46 CHRIS, TIIE MODEL MAKER. use. In fact, not one of them had uttered a sound since six o'clock, and there were no more suds. Here was Mrs. Huyler, and she had obtained an orchestra chair, toward the front, so that she should not miss a note of the music that was to come. It was to be good, she was sure of it; and some of it began to touch up at just about the time when Phil and Lucille heard the other music begin to pour out of the windows of the palace on Fifth Avenue. Mrs. Huyler's hair, at present, instead of being twisted in a beehive knot on the 1top of her head, as in the morning, was braided, looped, and folded, and it came down from under her hat around her ears, so as to leave them free to listen. She was other wise arrayed in appropriate concert style, but less could be said about her dress-that is, about her dress itself-because she had so thrown herself away upon lace . She wore it everywhere and 0 many kinds, and every piece 0 lace had seemed to require the aid and support of ribbons. It could not have been denied that the art effect was wonderful. In fact, Mrs. Huyler presented a picture calculated to increase the happiness who-

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CHRIS AND HIS FRIENDS. 47 ever might look at her. Her foll, round ace was absolutely sunny with delight, as she listened to the excellent harmonies which the orchestra began to manufacture as soon as the fiddles were tuned. There were people, on either side 0 her, who looked at her and then looked at each other, and smiled and nodded, or only a ]mart 0 stone could have criticised such a figure 0 simple content and real enjoyment. But now, suddenly, she was trans formed into a figure 0 expectation, for the orchestral music broke down under a storm of applause, the musicians all sat still, an
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48 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. became almost as dissatisfied as her son Philip's had been when he pushed away his chair and shut up his book, before going out or his walk. At last, her lips moved slowly, and they had put on a half angry expression, but even the nearest woman in that row 0 chairs could not hear her murmur : I could do it I know I could If I had ever learned how, when I was young, and i I had her voice." There it was, a kind 0 carking regret that hovered around her pleasant ace and saddened it, all the while the prima donna sang. She was just like other people. No doubt she had begun life with a wish and hope to become something more than a Laurens Street washer-woman. Still, her trouble seemed to vanish as the trills 0 the song died away and as the uproarious applause began. A quartette followed, and Mrs. Huyler evidently experienced only happiness. She may have elt an inner consciousness that no amount 0 early training, nor any kind 0 favorable circumstances, could ever have made a quartette 0 her. Something like that idea must have followed her, to judge by her ace, during all the remainder 0 the concert. There was certainly a wonderful contrast, i one

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CHRIS AND nrs FRIENDS. 49 paused to think 0 it, between a basement laundry, with the sound 0 its dull, monotonous washboards, and the thronged, l:irilliant theatre turned into a kind 0 palace 0 music. No doubt it was good for Mrs. Huyler to forget her tubs altogether for a while, and to live in that palace with all its lavish light and harmony. Away back in old Laurens Street, at that time, there seemed to be just about light enough given by the street lamps to make it look more dingy and narrow and cramped by night than it did by day. There were lights, too, in house windows, a nd one peered up from the Gerichten shop base ment. Only one burner had been lighted, and it was over Chris Huyler's workbench, for be was there. He was perched upon his high stool, with a draw ing before him, and something in it seemed to be making him happy, as if it were a kind 0 work which affected him as music did his mother. It made him whistle frequently, and he was a very good whi s tler "There!" he exclaimed. "That's about it. I know it '11 work, but I'm not quite ready to make a model. There's just one difficulty-right there-I

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50 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. never saw a new machine yet that didn't have a difficulty somewbete. I've got to get around it somehow." He said more than that ; enough to make it plain that Chris was inventing something 0 bis own, and had great hopes 0 it. On the whole, that seemed to be just the kind 0 room to invent in, with all those young and old inventions swarming around in it. Chris worked on while, in a room over bis head, old Mr. Gericbten sat or a long time poring over a volume that lay open upon his table It was not an English book, but he could read it. At last he seemed to weary 0 it, and went and sat by a window. He did not look out, but sat still and stared as i at something far away. Then his white mustaches parted, and he said aloud : "Ab, we11 It was the tyrant's day, not ours. Vv e had them beaten, but we were not enough or victory. The battle was won-and it was lost. They were too many. That was all. 0 what avail are courage and genius an
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CHRIS AND HIS FRIENDS. 51 been a soldier in them. There were many changes upon his withered but expressive features, but finally a kind of war-and vengeance look faded away into one of utter despondency. The battles he had fought and lost could not be fougb t again and won. So he gave it up, and went and took clown and opened another book. There was nothing but cheerfulness down in the basement, for Chris did not feel that he was losing any battles. He had put away his drawing, indeed, with its inventions and its difficulty, but he seemed to feel happier than ever. His mother, at the con cert, had received much of her evening's enjoyment from many violins working together, while he was getting quite as much from only one. He was not playing upon it, however. It was only another evi dence that the Gerichten shop was ready to under take the construction or repair of almost anything. It was, after all, a pretty healthy fiddle, only requir ing some small tinkering by skilful fingers, and he finished the cure of its ailments, and tuned it, and then held it up to look at it with a face that was beaming with delight. Lucille's getting along splendidly," he said. "I'm glad it's a first-class instrument. She'd

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52 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. amount to something, if she only bad a cbanceI'm afraid she never will, though." Then be and the violin went upstairs together, and be came down again all alone. He left the shop and started cheerily home ward along a street that seemed all the narrower because there were so many people in it, sit ting around among the shadows and trying to feel cool and comfortable, that warm midsummer night. There was no light in any window of bis own house, but enough was thrown upon it to show that it consisted of the laundry basement, and, above that, of two stories and another. If three stories could be mentioned, it was because above the second story arose a huge, preposterous helmet of a "gambrel roof." Chris did not look up at that. He only opened the door and went in, and be must have climbed stairs nimbly, for it seemed only a minute before he was lighting a gas-jet in bis own room. It was a strange kind of room, indeed, for him or anyone else to enter. No laths or plaster bad been added to the time stained wood work at the sides or overhead. It looked more like a great cave than

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CHRIS AND HIS FRIENDS. 53 anything else, for there were no partitions to diminish the size of the ioom. Nearly in the middle stood a large table, and by it lay a frayed and faded Turkish rug which had once been something brilliant. There were various tables and other furniture. All of it was old, and some pieces were positively antique. The real furni s hing of the rooms, however, that gave it its peculiar character, consisted of the evidence it contained that it was, after all, a kind of upstairs workshop, and that all kinds of people, some of them very strange kinds, brought remarkable things to Chris for repairs, and then failed to come and take them away. Or else he had a tremendous number of queer jobs yet to do. A well put together skeleton sat in one of the old, high backed armchairs, in an attitude of listening to such conversation as might pour through the closed visor of a su i t of theatrically perfect old armor that sat in another chair, near by, and leaned toward him, grasping its own chair-arm with a steel gauntleted hand as naturally as life Between them was yet another chair, a huge old thing of carved oak, and they may have been disputing about its ownershio, but it was empty

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54 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. Chris had paused for a moment, as if to look around him after something, but "clang" rang out a loud gong upon one of the tables, although there was no visible band to strike it. "Hullo!" he exclaimed "Mother's come home, I wonder where she went to, this time." He went at once, however, and pulled a finger piece on a leg of that table, as if he were sending an answer. That was it, for clang went another gong in the room directly under him. It was Mrs. Huyler's parlor drying-room and she was there, with all her evening's harvest o-f music in her. All around her, between the several pieces of pretty good furniture and on the table, were baskets containing the white fruit of her laundry. The things that peeped out from one or two of them plainly suggested that, even as a laundry artist, she made a specialty of laces. She was now carefully remov ing her own, one treasure after another, with the ribbons, but at the sound of the gong, she said: "That's Chris. He's all right, he can tinker it and tune it, I know he can. He could make it all over again."

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CHRIS AND HIS FIUENDS. 55 She seemed to be questioning the room itself as to something that was on her mind. A kind of enthusiasm in her face was increasing fast; and now she pointed, with a handful of lace, at a corner opposite the windows and remarked : "It can stand there! I don't care what people say! I just did want a piano, and it'll be here first thing to-morrow. It didn't cost hardly any t hing. I've heard tell that it does a piano good to be played on. Now I'll have Lucille Gerich ten play on my piano all the while." Excepting for her musical devotion, Mrs. Huyler was no longer so attractive a woman as she bad been, for her laces were gone from her and she was plainly dressed, comparatively, in a bright green silk with :flounces. She stood there in thoughtful silence, as if not yet determined what to do next, but in the cave-room over her head there were other sounds pretty soon after the gong told Chris that she had returned. Chris had gone to the large table and had busied himself with some papers and drawings scattered over it, until one of them seemed to make him whistle. At that moment, and very much as if he had called for it, the door of a cuckoo clock, high 5

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56 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. up among the timbers, flew open and let out its wooden bird to utter its meaningless cry and disap pear, and that was followed by the tinkle 0 low, sweet chimes from another clock. Before these ceased Chris remarked : "Eleven? I'll read a while, I guess. Oh, how I wish I could lie down like other people Lie down and sleep He seemed, indeed, to prepare himself for bed and for sleep, but his bed was not altogether like those 0 other people. There was a broad, cum brous, old-fashioned bedstead not ar from the table. It had a high and heavily carved head-board. Over the gaudy coverlet 0 silken patchwork was scat tered a collection 0 pillows and cushions which could be arranged in any way one pleased. So small and, but for the breadth 0 his shoulders, so slight a form as that of Chris could be upheld by pillows in a large variety 0 selected positions; He now fixed and packed and arranged, and then settled himself with a book in his hand, after swing ing over the couch the long arm 0 an ornamental gas-jet holder threw a shaded light upon the printed pages. It all made a very peculiar picture after he had done so.

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I CHRIS .AND HIS FRIENDS. 57 He began to read and he seemed to go on stead ily, cheerfully, almost as if he were enjoying him self, but with frequent changes and rearrangements of his pillow supports. Just before each of those changes was made, howe ver, something white shot sharply across the boyish rosiness of his pleasant face. "I don't mind it so much in the day time," Im muttered, "or when I'm at work. Sometimes I kind o' think it's left me for a minute or so, but it never really does. It is pretty hard to-night. There That was longer than usual 0-oo m-m Ah-h He read again and the clocks ticked on, until one of them, for there were several, struck loudly, sono rously; the cuckoo came out and cried once more; the chimes jangled sweetly, and then all at once the garret cave was full of music. I'm glad he never came after it," said Chris. "It's a year and more now." Beautiful music of a high order of taste in its selection, was made by one of the costliest of" music boxes," set to a clock-work attachment which com pelled it to begin its soulless but exquisite melody precisely at twelve o'clock midnight.

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58 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. The skeleton and the man in armor nodded their approval, turned a little in their chairs and leaned forward to listen, while Chris ha1 arose among his pillows and nodded back at them, but all he said was: "Yes, it's midnight."

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CHAPTER V. OUR NEW PIANO. OT was not yet time for work to begin in the shops of the city. About the most brilliant and beautiful part of any summer day goes by before that. Perhaps a great many people get the good of it, but not as they can in the country, where the very barnyard fowl begin to cackle at day break. There was no cackling in old Laurens Street, and it wore a singularly deserted look ; not to add that it seemed dingier than ever and more as if it were pretty nearly worn out, so that a new street was needed in that place. If any old street was really worn out, utterly, would it break down and let people and things fall through? There are a great many cities that have entirely disappeared, anyhow, and nobody seems to know where they went to. If there was no stir to speak of outside of the houses, there was a very general waking up within 59

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60 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. them, for working people in the city have to be astir early, even though they have no fowls or cattle to attend to. The upper back room 0 the Gerichten house was ull 0 morning light. The windows were open, and the plants and flowers seemed to be having a good time. There was something among them to wonder at, too, for it was a bee ; and how he had ever found his way across town to pop in at one 0 those windows was a question without an answer. That is unless he had been at work the day before among the sugar ships at the East River wharves, and bad lost his way trying to get back again. The canary was in his bath tub, and was fluttering and flirting out the water at a great rate, but Lucille was not just then paying any attention to bird or bloom or insect. "There's my violin," she said, "just where it was when I came in last night. Chris has mended it. What a real good follow he is The violin stood near the door, leaning against a chair and looking up at her, very much as i it were trying to say : ''Goodmorning, Miss Gerichten. Here I am; I was up and dressed first."

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OUR N .EW PIANO. 61 She was indeed up and dressed, and her next remark sounded somewhat as i she were replying to an invitation from the mended fiddle. "No, I mustn't try to play now," she said. Not until they are busy down in the shop. I'd like to know why I can't learn to play just like others. Oh, dear! I wonder why father objects so to everything I want to learn The fiddle stood sti11, and may have been consid ering that matter, but there was no audible expla. nation given by anybody in that room. In the front room on that same floor, however, a grim, white mustached old man, sitting by a window, was evidently pondering some subject that he found deeply interesting. "Her mother was so very beautiful," he said. She was so good, too." He drew a long, thoughtful breath, and was silent or a moment before he added : I would not dare to die and leave that girl alone. No, I must go right on and save up until there is property enough to support her. There isn't enough yet, but it is rising in value. But she must not, shall not, ever work. No lady 0 her race ever worked. I am afraid she is going to be like

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62 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. her mother. I can see more and more resemblance every day. Sbe wm be beautiful. She must not be permitted to know it. She must not dress too well, or sbe will find it out. Education? Yes, some. She may read in tbe library. No harm can come from that. It takes her away from Laurens Street. No No music That is, not any to speak 0. She has too much 0 it in her. Art? Well, she may go to the Institute. That won't hurt her. Will she-will she ever be as beautiful as her mother was ? I'm afraid so. What if she should ? It would break her mother's heart to know all that has happened to us. "Oh, how glad I am she is in heaven and does not know how we are living." l Mr. Gerichten's remarks were at all inconsistent he did not seem to know it, but i Luci1le had any perverse opposition from him to complain 0, he thought he had a reason for it. He arose now, and descended to the story over the shop. There was a spotless cloth upon the needlessly broad table in the back room. There was a fire in the wonderful stove-somewhere or other, among its mysterious caves. A neat looking old woman, who evidently did not live in the house except in the daytime, was arranging dishes on the table, but

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OUR NEW PIANO. 63 every now and then she turned from any other occupation to hurry to the stove and turn a button or pull a slide 0 its marve11ous cooking machinery. Just as i she, or anybody else, could understand what she did it for. She greeted Mr. Gerichten pleasantly as he came in, but she bowed very low while doing so, and her words were in the same strange tongue in which be had addressed her. He ca11ed her Sara Vladovna, and seemed pleased to find breakfast so nearly ready. Outside 0 the house there were many indications that common people were accustomed, many 0 them, to get their breakasts even earlier. They hurried out 0 11ouse doors or came up from base ments as i they had no time to spare; and not only that street, but others near at hand that were some what like it, began to put on a busy and waked-up appearance. Here and there shops were already opened, and over on Broadway and down upon Canal Street some 0 the green.ro11 shutters were slipping up from before the plate-glass windows, for the business 0 the great city was getting its eyes open. The :first man to make his appearance in the

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64 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKEH . Gerichtens' shop was Philip Huyler, and he let himself in with a key hardly thicker than a slip of cardboard, but as full of notches as a handsaw. He did not say a word, and he did not at once go about any work. He did not even try to arrange anything nor did he sweep the floor, although it sadly needed brooming. All the tools were where they bad been left the evening before, and all the machines and models, younger or older, great and small, sat still in their places and waited patiently. Philip, too, seemed to have a work-bench that belonged especially to him, and he went and stood by it, but only to turn his back to it and take a long look around him and another out of the open door. If he had seemed to have fun in him yester day, it was all gone now. If he had been a bright and polite young fellow while walking with Lucille and talking about rich men and palaces and works of art, in his trim blue suit and with his best straw hat on, he was very different now. He wore a shabby old suit, shoes that were nearly worn out, while bis grimy leather apron seemed to match, somehow, with the rebellious and discontented expression on his face. Something or other was going wrong with Phil,

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OUR NEW PI.A.NO . 65 and there was no sort of improvement in his countenance when Chris came down the steps from the street, and whistled his cheerful way to his bench and drawing-board. "Lame," said Phil, to himself. "Crippled. So am I, somehow. No chance for either 0 us to be anything. I'm stupid and he's--" ''Phil," suddenly exclaimed Chris, has Mr. Gerichten been down ? "Not that I know," grumbled Phil. "'Tisn't time for him, hardly. I say, Chris, I went up Fifth Avenue, last evening--" then he paused and Chris asked him : "See anything? "Houses," said Phil. "Palaces. Tell you what, Chris, it isn't any use. There isn't room in New York for more than a few men to succeed. Just one, here and there. All the rest have got to be poor." The merry look vanished from even the face of Chris and he whistled a short, sharp note before he responded: "It's so and it isn't so. None of our business, anyhow. All we've got to do is to do the best we can. Don't know that I want to be rich."

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66 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "I do, then," muttered Phil, as he turned around to his bench. "Anyhow, I'm going to find some way to see the inside of one of those houses. I want to know what's in them." That was it, and perhaps Chris understood him, but he did not say any more. The great business houses on Broadway and the splendid dwellings on Fifth Avenue had been talking to Phil. They had told him, as he walked along with Lucille, that he could never hope to own one of them. He was only a poor boy, learning a trade, with a dwarf cripple for a brother and a washer-woman for a mother, and with a dull bead of bis own, so that there was no chance for him. Some other boys might rise in the world, a few of them, but he could not. It was not in him, and so he might as well give it up. One reason for not talking any more just then was that Mr. Gerichten's feet could be beard com ing down the stairs, and in a moment more be was in the shop. He was dressed as he had been the day before, and he really looked something like a workman. His first duty seemed to be a kind of general inspection, going around among the curios ities as if to make sure they were there, or as if in

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OUR NEW PIANO. 67 some doubt as to which 0 them he should take in hand to begin with. Not that he actually picked up either a machine or a tool, but at his direction Philip picked up several, one ater the other, to turn them around and over for examination, or to put them down in other places. It was worth noting, really, how a piece 0 iron-work or brass work, that seemed as i it were fairly entitled to some weight and consequence, came right up with out making any resistance the moment Philip grap pled it. Mr. Gerichten saw no occasion for taking hold with his own hands, and when at last Philip was ordered back to his bench and made to pick up a file, which he at once began to use with vigor and with pretty good skill, it speedily became apparent that an especial business 0 the boss 0 the shop was to stand by and see how he did it. Not that he was watching, or spying, or anything 0 that sort, but that he was running that file with Philip's fingers. He bad no idea how plainly he made Phil understand it in that way, or how the sulky look darkened as Phil said to himself: "Rich men don't work. They use the hands 0 poor men. He isn't rich, but he's a boss. I'll

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68 CHRIS, THE MODEL M.AKER. never be a boss. I can't even make a good mechanic." Discontent? Perhaps that is another name for a waking up 0 what is called ambition. There is a time in the experience 0 almost every boy and girl when discontent comes i they are ever to accomplish anything. It is apt to be pretty blind and unreasonable at first, and sometimes there is genuine mischiet in it. So there is in any other force that stirs things up and makes the world lively. There is any amount 0 mischief in steam and electricity, and i any boy has either 0 them in him, and eels his heart begin to beat and his head begin to burn, a time for him to think pretty carefully. Some boys have done it, and have begun right there to go ahead. Mr. Gerichten's other great duty was plain1y to "receive." That is, to step dignifiedly forward and bow to, and speak to, whoever might come in. Nobody could have done it better than he did, and there was no doubt that he gave a kind 0 character to the shop. He did, indeed, also pause now and then as he came and went, and lean or a moment curiously over tlie shoulder 0 Chris Huyler, there was no real necessity or superintending

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OUR NEW PIANO. 69 him or inspect i ng the artistic work upon his draw ing-board. The rosy ace 0 the dwarf mechanic was just now almost radiant with the interest he was taking, not in his drawing, but in a crotchety piece 0 brass upon which he was twisting a glittering bit 0 blue steel spring. There is a trem:n:-dous fascination for some people in doing something, no matter how small, that was never done beore. That was what Chris was doing, and it made him chuckle aloud to see what tricks the spring performed with the ups and downs 0 that brass work. He was small and he was deformed, but he was foll, to over-flowing, with the strong instinct 0 the inventor and with the pride 0 work which makes good workmen. Away up in Lucille's room there was another radiant face The door at the head 0 the lower stairs was shut tightly, and so was the door at the foot 0 the stairs leading up to that story, so that it was pretty well cut off, and any sounds made there could not go down and disturb anybody in the shop. Some 0 the overcrowded flower-pots near a win dow had somehow stepped aside, so that she could stand in among them, and there she was with her mended violin tucked under her chin.

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70 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "There!" she exclaimed triumphantly. "I'm doing ever so much better She listened intently, as she again tried the bow, and her eyes danced with pleasure over another manifest success. Her next pressure was firmer and swifter and did pretty well, but then a slow, steady and at first productive pull ended in unmusical disaster. How I wish I had a teacher she said. "I never had a teacher in anything-unless it's Chris. I've had to learn whatever I could, by myself." The bow had paused, as if to take breath, and now it suddenly began to quiver back and forth again. Lucille fairly trembled, for the melody that sprang out testified, unexpectedly, that her untaught fingers possessed that undefinable faculty, that natural "touch," which no amount of teaching can create. Probably the fact that she had it was one reason why she wished to learn how to use it, but the canary bad been listening all the while, and now he could endure it no longer. The violin solo suddenly changed into a bird-and. fiddle duet and the canary part of it was decidedly the shriller and the louder, or the yellow piper seemed to be half frantic and he too had learned

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OUR NEW PI.A.NO. 71 without a teacher. It was not on his account, how ever, that Lucille's face was clouded so. The act was that she was in too great a hurry. The violin was by no means yet her perfect servant, that would require time and practice, and it now began to express its strong disapproval 0 something or other by an angry discord. Just at that moment a little bell near the door tinkled twice. It was no wonder that a bell-hanger's house, with Chris Huyler in it, should be well provided with signals, but Lucille glanced at the bell as i she were both surprised and rebellious. "What can they want me for ? she said. i'm not going to the library this morning. No, it can't be that. I'm afraid it's the violin. They couldn't have heard-would father be angry ? I hope he won't. Stay there, then, till I come back She was disturbed about it, but she put away the violin carefully nevertheless, and in a moment more she was ready to obey the summons. She was looking very well. There was a reel rose at her throat, plucked from one 0 the little trees in her window garden. It was of small conse quence that all the rest of her dress was so plain and simple, for part 0 what her father had said 6

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72 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. could be easily understood, and she was probably beginning to resemble her mother very much. Perhaps, if Lucille had known why the bell had been pulled for her, she would have put away her music with less regret. There had been a sudden commotion in the shop, but before that there had been a sort of conundrum at the Huyler house and a complete stoppage of work in the laundry. Two vigorous looking girls of forty, or near it, who were helping Mrs. Huyler, had been rapidly joined by a mob of other women and a svvarm of the neighbor hood children, in watching four men solve the prob lem of how to get a piano up stairs that were so narrow and so crooked as were those at the head of which Mrs. Huyler herself excitedly pointed hither and thither with a half-bar of soap. They did, at last, get the piano into the parlor drying-room; they put on its legs and rolled it into a corner; and there it stood, not exactly pant ing, but recovering its strength after the severe exertion of getting upstairs. That also was what the four men were doing, and it was a pretty warm mornmg. "It's a oin pianny." "Can yes play, Mrs.

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OUR NEW PI4NO. 73 Was it in chune? "There it is, ma'am, and I'm plazed we didn't let it fall." "I'm going after Chris and Lucille suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Huyler. "Biddy, you and Norah go back to your work." Her movement down the stairs was not a gliding one, but it was as a flash and she was in the Gerich ten shop. Chris," she said, "it's come It's here But I haven't touched it. Bring Lucille, but don't tell her till she sees it-quick, Chris! come." Chris laughed and whistled in a way to show that he thoroughly sympathized with her, but he at once pulled the knob that sounded the bell in Lucille's room. As for Mr. Gerichten, he did not actually smile, but he bowed sincerely to Mrs. Huyler as she waved the soap at him and hurried out of the shop. He at once turned silently to oversee Philip, who was screwing something together. Whatever the reason was, he had got the wrong pieces matched and the consequence was something like mechanical confusion. Perhaps Phil had been thinking of the new arrival at his own house, but at all events he gave the boss so good a chance to scold and explain

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74 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. that Lucille was hardly noticed when she walked hurriedly past them to ask : "What is it, Chris ? You mended: my fiddle beautifully." "Glad you like it," said he. "Mother wants you. Guess you'd better go and see her right away." An expression 0 displeasure, very like a frown, that had been on her face when she parted from her violin, had entirely disappeared when she worked her way through the small crowd on the sidewalk in front 0 the laundry, but she went into the house and upstairs without speaking to any 0 them. Not even to a small boy and a smaller girl who had crept upstairs behind Mrs. Huyler and were now peepmg m. There sat the music-loving laundress, on the piano-stool, and she had opened the alligator jaws 0 the great instrument very much as i she was afraid the keys might be teeth. "I won't try it right away," she said, resting the soap in her lap. "I'll wait till I get kind o used to it." "Mrs. Huyler!" exclaimed the voice 0 Lucille, just getting into the room. "A piano?" Yes, it is," said the absorbed owner 0 it, with-

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OUR NEW PIANO. 75 out turning around. It's a real good piano. I bought it for almost nothing, at tbe auction, and all it needs is tuning and mending some of the strings. Chris can put it to rights. Do sit down and see how it sounds." "Ob, no," said Lucille, as if not quite piano was a fact. "I don't know how. till Chris comes." sure the I'll wait Nevertheless, as Mrs. Huyler at once left the stool, Lucille did sit down on it. She did so in a half scared way, for not only was she altogether surprised but she was thinking rapidly. How I wish I could she said. "Of course you can," exclaimed Mrs. Huyler. It's what I've always wanted, and I've never had one. You can come and practice on it all day. I can't leave my work, day-times, and we can take turns. I wish it was mended up." Lucille's fingers came down from a flight of wandering along the keys, and she successfully struck a Qhord. Guess it's in pretty good tune," chirped a pleas ant voice behind them. "I didn't have much to do to it." exclaimed his mother. "Why, Chris

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76 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. Well, i it isn't just like you Went and fixed it before it came Lucille had instantly left the piano-stool, and there was a nervous :flush upon her face until Chris banded her bis crutch and swung himself gayly into the seat she had vacated. "I must see i it's all right," he said, cocking bis paper cap a little on one side and running bis pliant fingers over the keys. "They tuned it pretty well," he remarked again. "It was really a fine instrument, once. Old ashioned case. Been banged about, some, in a boarding-house, but it's just the thing or you and Lucille, mother." "\Vhy, Chris," Lucille exclaimed," who knew that you could play the piano? What don't you know "Oh, yes," he said cheerily. "The man I served my time with had a piano. I began before that, though, when I was a little fellow. I used to play all night, sometimes, when the family were away." Wherever that had been or in what family, his voice and manner grew almost dreamy before he ceased speaking and the rosy color left his face, but his fingers were now at work and they went on, on, on, bdnging out of the piano a very sweet but

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OUR NEW PIANO. 77 unfamiliar melody, while Mrs. Huyler went and sat down and began to wipe her eyes with her apron. Just then the bead 0 Philip was thrust into the room and he called out: "Chris, you're wanted Come along I've got to go out with Mr. Gerichten, and that there bald headed, gold-spectacled, what's-his-name, is waiting or you." "All right! I'm coming," responded Chris, very much as i he had been waked out 0 sleep and told to get up. "0 Chris," said Lucille, "I'm so sorry you must stop!" Never mind, dear," said Mrs. Huyler. He helped me buy it and pay or it, and I know he did it as much for you as for me." Lucille handed Chris his crutch as he turned on the stool, and in another moment he was gone. "I must go back to work," remarked Mrs. Huyler regretiully, almost mournully. "Such loads 0 laces! And I've promised to have them done. I can't stay to play now. Just you stay, child. Do And practice as long as you want to." That was evidently Lucille's "want," and she

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78 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. again seated herself and began to draw sounds out 0 the piano. "I won't stay too 1ong," she said. "Fath may not let me go on with the violin, but I do hope h e won't make any objection to this."

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CHAPTER VI. KINGS AND PALACES. [(IHEN Philip delivered his message to Chris he was evidently in a hurry. Perhaps it would be more nearly correct to say that he was in two hurries. One of them had been to get there and see what was going on in his own house. He had not been warned of the possible coming of that piano, and when he now saw it standing so comfortably in the corner it seemed very decidedly like an impossibility. No pianos, so far as he knew the world, had ever been known to drop down into the drying-room parlors of Laurens Street laundries. Instruments of that size and rank belonged only in the drawing rooms of the rich and on the platforms of concert halls. There it was, however, and Chris was drawing out of it remarkably good music, and so he took a long, earnest, puzzled look, as he uttered his summons. Then he went down stairs rapidly, for his second hurry was upon him. 79

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80 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. It was 0 an unexpected kind, and it touched him upon a spot that was almost sore that morning. Mr. Gerich ten did not advertise himsel as a "plumber." He did not undertake putting that kind 0 machinery into new houses, but his shop had somehow earned a reputation or skilful repairs 0 any plumbing aheady put in by other hands. It was a common thing or Mr. Gerichten to be sent or when a pipe had burst or a faucet was doing too much work or too little, but he had heretoore been accompanied by one or more 0 his grown-up workmen. It was, therefore, a new experience to Phil when he was informed that the gas-pipes or water-pipes, or something else, in a great house on Fith A venue called for instant attention, and that he must this time accompany his boss. He would not have missed it or anything, and he was almost in a panic lest one 0 the other workmen now out upon jobs should happen to come in and cut him out. He had not lost a moment in either going or coming, and now he was busy with the prepara. tions required by Mr. Gerichten. That very dignified head 0 an exceedingly misceJlaneous shop had never, to Phil's knowledge, been seen in the street with a

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KINGS .AND P .ALACES. 81 tool or any other burden in his hands. He not propose to open a new account now, but be evidently meant to be prepared for whatever might be the demands of the plumbing he was to inspect and rectify. Tool after tool was put into the basket which served as a "kit," and each of them weighed something. Taken as a whole, or as a collection, they weighed quite respectably, and any ordinary boy of Phil's inches might have been compelled to rebel, or to say he would take half now and come back after the remainder. Not so did Philip. He was only too glad to get out of that shop, and to lug his basket of imple ments up the street, with Mr. Gerichten stalking a few paces in advance of him. "It's the very house Lucille and I were looking at the other evening," he said to himself. "It cost more than any other house in the city. It's a palace, and I'm going to see the inside of it. Never was in one of them before in all my life." The sun poured hotly down. Mr. Gerichten walked steadily, almost rapidly. The basket of tools and materials grew heavier as they went, but Philip never flinched. He even did some thinking as they went, and took note of the fact that his

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82 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. employer had "slicked up a little" beore setting out upon that errand. Not that he was well dressed, excepting as to his shoes and a fairly good elt hat, but that all shop dust had been bmshed away. He al ways wore pretty clean. linen, and was particular about his hands and whiskers. "Anybody'd know he was a boss," remarked Phil, and he really elt glad 0 it, considering what kind 0 house they were going to. It almost helped him carry the basket to see how much dignity Mr. Gerichten was carrying. Still it was a long, hot walk, and while they were on their way things had not been standing still in all the down town world behind them When Chris had reached the shop, he had ound it empty 0 everybody Mr. Selden Stimson and 0 a strong suggestion, belonging to that gentleman habitually, that he was quite enough to occupy one shop. He stood before the work-bench at which be had ound the d war-mechanic on his first visit, and his ample face had hardly room in it or a complete expression 0 the sense 0 the humorous which was now compelling him to smile as he did. ''Funny little monkey," be remarked to himsel. "I've laughed, every time I've thought 0 him.

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KINGS A.ND PA.LACES. 83 He's all brains and no body, Maybe so, but how does he get along without one? 1 he made Chap man's model, though, he may be able to make one for me Ha-ha-ha! He-he-he! The monkey!" "Here? Are you, Mr. Stimson ? came cheerily down the steps a11d into the basement, followed or rather accompanied by Chris himself, and it was answered by : "This isn't your drawing; is it, Stub? You can't draw like this, can you? Is it something you are making?" "No, sir, I'm not making it yet," replied Chris, in a positive, businesslike tone and. manner. "Let me get up there. No, don't help me, please, I can help myself. Now, then, I'll tell you what it is." He had shrunk away from Mr. Stimson's offered lift as i he eared a touch might hurt him, but in a twinkling he was on his perch before the drawing board, spread with the work which had made the great man curious. "It's a good drawing, certainly," said the latter, with a critical stare at the work. "But I came to talk about my own invention. Have you done as you thought you could, or--" "Why, Mr. Stimson," interrupted Chris, this is

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84 CHRIS, TUE MODEL MAKER your invention, as far as it goes. Don't you see? That's the way you bad it, but I've carried it out a little. You've some idea, haven't you, of what you mean to do with it ? Special work of some sort? It looks so." "vVhat? My drawing? Is it?" exclaimed Mr. Stimson, with sudden interest, w bile all the humor vanished from his face. "I-I didn't tell you what it's for." "I could work it out better, if I knew," said Chris. "You can do as you please about that, though. Your plan won't work, anyhow-that is, the one you brought here-but I thought of this--" a few words more, as he pointed here and there among the lines upon his bristol-board, and then Mr. Stim son was fairly glaring at him, scowlingly, over the top rims of his glasses. He was very red in the face as he remarked : "Are you-ah-one of his imps? How did you ever come to think of that? Why, it's my own idea. I'll tell you what it's for, but it must be kept a profound secret till everything is ready." "We never tell anything in this shop," said Chris. "'Twasn't in your drawing but I'm glad you can see how it's going to work."

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KINGS .A.ND P .A.LACES. 85 Work ? Of course it will said Mr. Stimson. "Stub, do you know anything about New York City?" "Guess I do," said Chris. "Do you know where Governor's Island is, and the other islands in the harbor ? "All of them," said Chris, and Long Island, Staten Island, New Jersey, Gl'eat Britain, and the vV est Indies." They must a11 be annexed to Manhattan Island, Stub," replied Mr. Stimson0 "They must all be attached, joined, hitched on to New York City." Good thing to do," said Chris, with the calmness of a man, a model maker, who was used to having great set forth by great inventors. "But how are you going to do it? Is that what this thing is intended for? "Exactly," responded Mr. Stimson, drawing him self up an inch or so in self-respecting height. "That is what it is for. Governor's Island is no longer needed for United States forts. It must be used for warehouses, piers, factories. The streets of the city must be continued-they must be length ened, till the mainland and the island are one.'' "Ob, yes," exclaimed Chris. "That's it. But you

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86 CHRIS, '.l'HE MODEL MAKER. can't run them across the water, and so you mean to burrow under. It's to run tunnels." Of course," said Mr. Stimson, "but we won't run them in a narrow.mi nded way. We shall not have merely one tunnel, but many, from one main land to an island. All the streets needed will dive under at the water's edge and come up on the other side. But that is only part of it. The same system will run everywhere under all the streets their full length. We shall have a second New York under the old town we live in." "Kind of mole-town," said Chris, "but how about this machine ? " This is nothing but the tool to do it with, and that is everything," said Mr. Stimson. "As you see, I have nearly solved the problem. when I can see a working model of my Phantom Borer-that is if you can make one-I shall know that all rivers and arms of the sea, if not the British Uhannel and the North Sea, and the Atlantic itself, have ceased to be serious impediments in the way of travel and of commerce." "Or of navigation," suggested Chris, with a faint touch of malice in his face, but Mr. Stimson con tinued:

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KINGS .AND P.ALACES. 87 And the motor or motive-power I depend upon with which to run the Phantom Borer, i's electricity." "And_ plenty of it," said Chris. "But I've an idea of my own about that. Anyhow, there isn't room enough on Manhattan Island as things are now. We are building railways away up in the air, and we are building houses a dozen stories high. We might as well tack on the islands. That's so-and there's a lot of room underground. The machine I was thinking of isn't ready yet." Is it a borer? asked Mr. Stimson, looking straight through his glasses and with an air of sudden anxiety. No sir" said Chris "it isn't a mole of any kind ' ' but when it's done it'll be a machine you can run any other machine with, if you can hitch on." "That idea is really the centre and the pivot of my own invention," said Mr. Stimson solemnly. "Well, I am glad we have had no one here to listen, to take notes of this conversation. You will keep the secret, Stub?" "Yes, sir--" began Chris, but at that moment a slight form flitted past them and a face of :fierce indignation was for one moment turned upon Mr. 7

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88 cnms, 'l'HE MODEL MAKER. Stimson. Lucille may not have meant him to hear what she said as she vanished up the stairs, but he was almost sure that he did, and that it sounded like: Pompous old brute "Ah he said, with a slight wince, but he was a very self-possessed man and he did not turn his head. He did but address Chris again, remarking with more than a little suavity. "I must go, now, Mr. Huyler. Work away! I will come again in a few days, but I am going to vV ashington, to present my idea 0 annexing Governor's Island to New York to some 0 my political friends-men 0 high standing and influence. I have already interested several eminent capitalists. The great underground plan 0 street extension will have plenty 0 money and other support. But it can never be realized without the Phantom Borer." The next minute, or Chris said hardly anything in reply, the great inventor and projector was walking down Laurens Street toward Canal Street. "The Phantom Borer he said to himself. "The greatest invention 0 the age. It will be more important than the ocean telegraphic cable. I have the idea, but can Stub make the machine or

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RINGS AND PALACES. 89 me? He seems to have a great deal of invention in him; we shall see." What he did not seem to see, at least not very distinctly, was that he was now proposing to have Chris turn himself into another man and invent Mr. Selden Stimson's great invention for him-if he could. At about that time, two persons to a halt at one of the basement entrances of a great marble dwelling-house, away up Fifth Avenue. They would have been there sooner if they had ridden, but Mr. Gerichten had preferred that the journey should not cost him anything. So it had been a tough one, even for the uncommonly tough muscles of Philip Huyler. The fact was that Phil felt queer about actually going into that house. Not exactly because he so very much wished to go in, but that be was just finding out something. He was not at all different from all other boys, and he was going to take a look into another world, so to speak. The things a boy or a girl grows up with and gets accustomed to are the world to that boy or girl. Some never get out of the world they were born into, and get no clear ideas of anything beyond ..

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90 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. it. So they never understand the other people all around them who are living in other sets of circum stances. The door opened and Mr. Gerich ten stalked for ward, followed by Phil with his weighty basket. He seemed to have almost forgotten bow much it weighed. So bad bis boss, for be went right down into the cellar before be gave Phil a chance to rest bis load. The servant who bad opened the door was a German, and Mr. Gerichten had spoken to him in his own tongue. So be did to the Iri shman who s howed them downstairs. Down, down they went, only a passing chance for glances into any room of the high ceil inged, perfectly finished basement story of that house. There was something half way miraculous in the contrast between that and the basement in which Mrs. Huyler did her laundry work. The first plumbing to be looked at, of course, was away down where all be pipes came in from the street, but Phil knew 11 about them-the sewers and the gas -mains, and the Croton :water-pipes that underlie the streets and avenues, just as arteries and

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KINGS AND PALACES. 91 vems in the body of a man lie hidden under his flesh and skin until something cuts into them. Walls and pillars and arches; strong, solid masonry; to uphold all the architecture above them, all of the best and costliest workmanship. Phil looked at them while Mr. Gerichten was studying the pipes and faucets, but neither he nor his boss saw anything there to keep them any longer. It was the coolest place, however, that Phil had been in all that summer. It was still and dimly lighted, too, and it made him think of caves that he had read of. The difficulty they had come to attend to was said to be in one or more of the bath-rooms upstairs, and now Mr. Gerichten bade Philip follow him again. Up they went one story, and a chance came which Phil had been hoping for. A fat man, very well dressed, to whom Mr. Gerichten spoke in French, had so much to say, standing in the broad, splendid hall, leading toward the main entrance, that there was plenty of time for a look into the drawing rooms on the first floor. Phil had put down his basket, but his very heart :fluttered and his breath came more quickly as he daringly stepped forward into such a room as he never before had

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92 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. seen. He had hardly dreamed that anything could be so beautiful. The carpets and the window cur tains and the furniture, and the very walls, were wonderful. He looked around him rapidly and he saw a num ber of oil paintings, here and there, but he knew he would only have a minute or so, and he used it almost feverishly. What ? Mr. Gerichten himself looking around? It could not be anything new to him. Perhaps, not, but he was now marching forward, following the fat Frenchman, and Phil followed them both until he found himself in what he at once knew was the picture gallery. The best artists of Europe and America had been liberally paid to make that gallery what it was. Phil knew very little about pictures, but the boss and the French man seemed to. How I wish Lucille had come along," said Phil to himself. "It is just what she was wishing for. She can draw, but she could never paint one of those things. I wish I owned that soldier picture." The gallery was a great place, and Mr. Gerichten walked slowly all the way around it, as if he were

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KINGS AND PAL.ACES. 93 studying or criticising, and his face did not look as Philip had ever seen it look anywhere else. "Come, now," he said to Phil, at last, and they followed the Frenchman out to a stairway. After that, Philip only had a few brie glances into chambers that seemed altogether too magnificent to be ever slept in, for Mr. Gerichten was occupied with his inspection. "It is nothing at all," be said, when be had satis fied himself, and then Philip actually had a bit 0 plumbing work to do, with the boss leaning over him. There had not been anything the matter to speak 0, but neither the German, the Frenchman, the Irishman, nor anybody else in all that palace, had any knowledge 0 plumbing. For all they knew, something or other was in danger 0 bursting and letting all the water from the Croton pipes run in over the carpets and down through the mould ings and gildings 0 the richly frescoed ceilings. That would have been dreadful, and they seemed really rejoiced when Mr. Gerichten told Phil to put his tools into the basket again. Only two or three 0 them had been used at all, but they had all been taken out and spread over the floor 0 the bath-room where the boss had cornered

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94 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. the difficulty; Philip had really crawled m among some pipes, and had done so more easily than if he had been a full.grown man. Still, he had been awed a little, at the idea of tinkering anything in a palace-for the first time. It was another curious thing, too, the feeling he had of being glad to get out of the house. Hardly had they done so, however, before Mr. Gerichten stood still, turned around, and looked steadily at the great white building he had been mending. "It is like a king's palace," he said slowly. "I have been in the palaces of kings. I have seen them in peace and in war. We have no need of kings. Is it well that an American citizen should have a palace like a king? I think it is. I am proud we can have them without the kings." "Tell you what, though," almost burst from Philip, "I wish everybody could look in. I'm glad I came." "Everybody look in?" suddenly exclaimed Mr. Gerich ten. "My boy, you thought of that? I thought of it. American palaces must not be liki:; kings' palaces. We are all kings in this country. It is something for me to think of."

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CHAPTER VII. NEW ARRIV .ALS. llUCILLE GERICHTEN went home that morning as if she were in a great hurry to get there. She seemed to hardly see anybody on the way and she certainly did not speak to anybody. Not even when she so sharply expressed her opinion, as she flitted through the shop. Mr. Stimson's address to Chris had occasioned a kind of small explosion, that was all. Something like shooting a bird on the wing; or rather as if a bird on the wing should turn and shoot back, but she had not waited to see whether or not she had hit anything. 'Up the stairs she went, and when she reached her room she made a motion at her head as if she were throwing off her hat. She bad not worn any, just to run into Mrs. Huyler's, and her state of mind betrayed itsel in the fact that she did not know it. Then she stood stock-still, with an on her 95

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96 CHRIS., THE MODEL MAKER. face that looked like an indignant protest against something or other. Well she exclaimed. I'm glad I had another chance to give it to that old fellow 'Stub I wonder if he thinks that because he's so big he's any better than other people. Chris is worth ten of him! But it hurts him, just the same." She looked at the violin that was leaning, a little sidewise, against the wall in the corner. It might be that a violin had no feelings, but it seemed almost to look back at her, as if it were saying: "Here I am. What's the matter? I'm a good fellow. I didn't do it. 'Tisn't my fault that your father won't let you do anything. I won't say any thing about the piano, but you ought to get better acquainted with me. I think you're having a pretty good time, anyway." Lucille's face was brightening, for her thoughts had gone back to the parlor drying-room, and she replied, still looking at her friend in the corner: "Wasn't it funny of Mrs. Huyler to go and get a piano She'll be getting a violin, next "-then she stopped and laughed till the tears came before she went on: "Anyhow, she's a dear, good woman. I don't know what I should do without her."

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NEW ARRIVALS. 97 The violin remained leaning against the wall, or Lucille did not come to pick him up. She was gaining courage, however, for she said, aloud and hopefully: "l Chris could learn, as he bas, I can. He can teach me, too. I don't believe ather will object. It's at Mrs. Huy ler's. Stub Poor Chris How angry it makes me! That great big-humph! I just hate him Do you know, I don't believe Chris is out 0 pain a moment? Phil is real thoughtful and good, too, or a boy 0 his age. I do hope he won't let Chris ever lit anything He played splendidly." After that she could busy herself with all sorts of matters in her own room and elsewhere, but it was evident that Mr. Selden Stimson's good looks and grand manners had failed to make a good impression upon the model maker's daughter. As or the dwarf mechanic himself concerning whom she had expressed so much anxiety, he was now probing the mysteries 0 another job and seemed to have forgotten everything else. It was something in the lungs and stomach 0 the young steam-engine, and Chris at last drew back from it, remarking:

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98 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. It's got to be turned over before I can get at that. I must wait for Phil." He stood for a moment looking at it, leaning on his crutch, with his right hand pressed against his side and his breath coining and going somewhat rapidly. He seemed to be a living picture of bodily weakness dealing with the strongest kinds of things : with machines made of iron and steel and brass, and with strong men, and rich men, and with all the circumstances in life which are the bard est to over come. Mr. Stimson had said, and so had Philip, in another way, that Chris was brains without body, but they had said too much, for, in another minute, he was on his stool again and his skilful .fingers were busy with his pencil, tracing rapidly out upon a sbee t of paper the outlines of some thought or other which had come into his mind. He had body enough to do very important work with, after all, and he was using all he had to remarkably good advantage. The time went swiftly by and more than one workman, not to speak of several customers, walked in and walked out, but Chris turned quickly back from every interruption to draw more lines upon that paper. His face grew radiant as he did so, and

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NEW ARRIV .ALS. 99 there was a note of exultation in some of his whis tling. He had just blown a sharp whew and added: "Guess that's it I'll try it, anyhow." "Chris," said a voice behind him, "I've been to that house. Saw it all over, from top to bottom. I'm going to have a house of my own, some day. I don't care for so fine a one as that is,. though. Is there anything you want me to do? ''Yes, there is,'' said Chris, turning to s1ip down from his perch. "Where's Mr. Gerichten ? "He didn't come back with me," said Phil. "He went somewhere else. Oh, but weren't those tools heavy, before I got there!" "Why didn't he take the whole shop?" chuckled Chris, with a comical glance at the basket. Now, you come over here and set up this thing for me." "You didn't try to do it yourself, did you?" exclaimed Phil, with evident anxiety. Now, Chris, you know you never ought to." "I didn't," said Chris. "Take hold-now!" He did not give any further verbal directions, but it was needful for that thing to be put over on its back and then stood upon its head. \Vhile it was doing so, although only Phil was actually touching

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100 CHRIS,. THE MODEL MAKER. it, it seemed to move in obedience to the motions made by Chris and without any hesitation whatever. So? asked Phil at last, but Chris took a long look into the model and replied : "Around this way." Almost as if it had been a toy, around spun the really ponderous machine, and then Phil turned away to his own work-bench. It had all been as a matter of course to both of them, but there had been one witness upon whom it had made a some what peculiar impression. Old Mr. Gerichten had been in the doorway at the foot of the outer steps, and he had remarked, first in French and then in English: That boy What a soldier he would make Every boy should know how. He may have to be a soldier, some day." It was a curious suggestion to come in among the peaceful tools and the dust and the iron filings of a shop like that, but then it came in by way of Mr. Gerichten, and th. ere was something about him that did not look altogether peaceful. Phil did not at once take up any of his tools, but stood by his bench an
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NEW ARRIVALS. 101 "He must never lift anything," he said. Mr. Gerichten was at that moment explaining to a pair of new-comers, one of whom seemed to be an Italian and the other a Pole, the reasons why the jobs they inquired about had not been attended to. He spoke to them in their own tongues and with the utmost politeness, assuring them that Mr. Huyler's time, and his own, had been much more than occu pied. He was just in the middle of his :final and most courteous explanation, when the distant sound of a steam whistle, quickly followed by several others like it, came hurrying into Laurens Street and down into that basement. Mr. Gerichten's visitors turned suddenly toward t1rn door. Phil's hand drew back from a hammer he had almost touched. Even Chris himself put his crutch under his arm and whirled away from his steam-machine problem. The sound of rubbing ceased in the laundry, two doors up the street, and in the parlor drying-room over it Mrs. Huyler her self stopped playing upon her new piano. A hod carrier, nearly at the third story of a new building on Canal Street, brought his box of bricks all the way down the ladder with him. The wonde.r was that he did not drop them, for all mechanical or day

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102 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. labor work ceases when the whistle blows twelve o'clock. That forenoon had gone, and there had really been a great deal in it, but, in half a minute after it was gone, Chris was alone in the shop, for he had not hurried out of it so quickly as the rest. Even Mr. Gerichten himself had gone upstairs very promptly, and a "jour.,'' who had brought a tin luncheon pail with him, had taken it out upon the basement steps, as if he could probably eat with a better appetite anywhere else than down among all those models. There stood Chris by his work-bench. He was leaning upon his crutch, and there was a smile upon his face, but he was saying, half aloud to himself : "There! Yes, it hurts pretty hard to-day. It always seems to come as soon as they stop work. I must keep busy then. I wish I knew wltat it is. I don't know that it could be mended though. I kind o' guess some of my inside pieces were left out when I was put together." His right hand was pressed against his side and his breathing seemed to hurt him. Some people say that deformed fellows are always fretting and complaining about something or other. Why can't

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NEW .ARRIV .A.LS. 103 they take the world just as it is ? Well, there ought not to be any deformed people. Nobody is to blame for it. They have the same chances that we all have, don't they ? When Philip left the shop he bad all the noon hour before him and he need not have hurried, but he did. He went home and straight ups tairs to hi s own room, and in a twinkling the great book o f anatomical plates was opened wide upon his t a ble, and he was poring over it. I wi s h I understood this thing better," he said, a s he earnestly studied a plate of a man's body. "That' s the way he ought to be. Guess I must be made that way. Gue s s he isn't. Anyhow he mustn't lift. Don't I wish I knew as much as he does! I wish I knew what to do with him and I shall be a man one of these days, but it's a long time yet." Very long, to look forward to, no doubt, for a boy of fifteen who was only a boy helper in a mod e l shop, with a mother who took in washing and with a crippled dwarf for a brother, whom he would probably have to support some day. Phil felt very strong for a moment, when he thought of that, and then he felt very young and helpless. The next thing he seemed to think of was the costly palace be 8

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104 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. bad looked into that morning, but it was time or him to go down and get his dinner, and all be said was: "Sometimes an inventor makes money enough to live in a big house, but there are more of 'em that don't make a cent. Chris could invent almost any thing. I know he could. But you can't do any thing with the best kind of invention unless you have plenty of money." He had learned something concerning those mat ters, therefore, from the inventors and inventions he had seen in Gericbten's shop, and a boy can see a great deal if he keeps bis eyes open. Dinner was on the table in the Huyler drying room when Chris hopped in, but he did not at once look at it. There was a light in his ace that seemed to go across the room and shine on the piano. ''Did Lucille play ? he asked. "Ever so long," answered his mother. "So did I. It's a splendid piano. She can practice all the time. I can learn how, I know I can. It 'll do me good to see it there, anyway. I'll get you to show me. Now, Chris, just you eat your dinner. You don't begin to eat as much as you ought to."

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NEW ARRIVALS. 105 She made no such criticism upon her younger son, and he did not need any, for he was exceedingly healthy in body, even if he was a little disturbed in mind. All the people of the great city were at that hour busied very much in the same way. Every where, therefore, there were little gatherings of human beings, in unlimited variety. One of these noontide coteries, with a luncheon to deal with, con sisted of several gentlemen whose talk proved that they belonged to the medical profession. They were men who did mending and repairing of other kinds than such as were attended to in the Gerich ten shop. In fact, they were also something more, for they were the faculty in charge of an educational institution, a college for young doctors, and they were discussing one of its important matters while they ate and drank. They said to one another: "It is an exceedingly delicate mechanism." "Such a pity it fell down." "Its repairs can be entrusted only to the hands of skill and genius." We have enquired for both with great care,

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106 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "We have, indeed," remarked, at last, one of them to whom all the rest paid a great deal of deference. "I am confident that we have found what we want, and that Mr. Christopher Huyler is the man." Nobody disputed him, but one of the others thoughtfully enquired: "Can he do it here, or must it be taken some where else? Has he a shop?" "It cannot be done here," replied the guiding mind of the institution, "but Mr. Huyler has a separate room to put it in. It will not be mended in any ordinary shop. For that matter, we will have it insured. I have seen Huyler. He is, him self, one of the most interesting anatomical studies I have ever met with.'' There were six scientific guardians and instructors 0 that institution, and five of them were large men, but the body of the sixth, which contained the guiding mind, was comparatively small. It was worth noticing how, in spite 0 that obvi ous fact, all the large men were so respectfully attentive to whatever he had to say about the mind and body of the skilled workman, Chris the genius, to whom they were about to entrust their delicate

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NEW ARRIVALS. 107 treasure of rare mechanism, which had somehow tumbled down and was calling for repairs. No doubt they all knew a great deal, but what they all seemed to regret was their inability to turn Chris inside out and examine him as he, with Philip's help, had that v e ry morning examined the inside gearing of the young There was something evidently coming to him, however, whether be knew it or not. That was not all that was going on at luncheon time, for the hour of noon-day rest brought to Lucille a kind of trial. Sara Vladovna had prepared the table for Mr. Gerichten, with a jealous refusal of any help from bis daughter, but when it was ready she did not sit down by it. Only Lucille, therefore, and the dignified boss of the shop, were seated at the table. It was curious, the manner in w bi ch Sara waited upon them as if they were a kind of superior beings-the old model maker and his plainly dressed girl. Lucille, too, seemed to expect to be waited on, somewhat as her father did, but at the same time it was plain that she had an awe of him even greater than that which was shown by Sara, and there may have been more than ordinary reason for it.

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108 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. As for him, he was as courteous as if he were bowing to a customer; but his face wore a stern, hard, unyielding expression. Whatever he was thinking of, Lucille's mind, in tact, was busy with Mrs. Huyler's piano, even more than with the violin or any other of her difficulties. "It is so near," she said to herself, "he will know about it: He will know that I am practising. I suppose he knows now that it's there. I never tried to hide anything. I can't I must She was very nearly ready to tell him something when he suddenly arose from the table. Sara bad placed food before him and he bad eaten, but he had eaten very rapidly. Something was on his mind, and yet nothing extraordinary bad happened in the shop. He could not have been disturbed, as Phil bad been, by the visit to the palace. Anyhow, he at once went upstairs, and Sara looked after him and bowed as be went. "I've got to tell him!" exclaimed "He must know right away Sara said something in a strange tongue, and Lucille replied as if it were her own; but she left her luncheon ha1 finished and followed her father. There bad been time for him to reach his own

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NEW .ARRIVALS. 109 room and there he stood now, with his arms folded and his eyes upon the trophy of old swords above the bureau between the windows. He did not look at all as he usually did in the s hop. There were sharply cut furrows at the corners of his eyes that were hatdly hidden by his shaggy brows, and the' lines in bis forehead seemed to have been ploughed deeper. They were very deep. His white mus taches seemed to have no curve in them, such as they had when he smiled, but they stood straight lined, :flattened out, while he said, in a hoarse, husky voice: "This is the anniversary. This is the very hour. I had them all shot at noon. It was blood for blood. I am glad we took some justice. They butchered our heroes. I would do it again His eyes bad grown bloodshot while he spoke, and his head bent forward as if he were almost tigerishly gazing at something no one else could see. It was at that moment that Lucille timidly entered the room, and her voice faltered a little as she said : "Father." "Well ? be responded, and she at once told him, rapidly, anxiously, all there was to tell about the Huylers' piano.

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110 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. Piano ? he exclaimed at last, and turning toward her enquiringly, as if he had only half gathered her meaning. "Mrs. Huyler? Chris? Is it in tune ? "Why, yes, father. Chris mended it and had it tuned, and it's just lovely." "Very well," said her father in his stateliest manner. Practice Practice in the forenoons. Afternoons, library "And the Art Institute?" said Lucil1e, as if one of her treasures was in danger of being stolen from her. "Drawing?" said Mr. Gerich ten. "That sort of thing? I remember. I have no objection to that. Keep out of Laurens Street all you can. It's not the place for you." "Oh, thank you, father!" but Lucille instantly felt as if she had been driven upstairs to her own room, for she had now really looked him in the face and it had startled her. Perhaps it would not have been too much to have said that Lucille and her father were not just then on the same side of the Atlantic Ocean. They were not in the same country. She was a young Ameri can girl living in Laurens Street and struggling

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NEW ARRIVALS. 111 desperately to get some knowledge 0 art and music and books, and terribly depressed by the ear that she might never get away from the kind 0 lie she was in. Every daughter and every sop. 0 every immi g rant fro!?the Old World to the New since the day when the Pilgrims landed, has been in nearly the same position with Lucille. Only the older people could bring over Europe with them. Mr. Gerichten was not in America, just then, but away back somewhere in the lands beyond the sea; not in any shop, but in some place where he h a d per formed a very different kind 0 "bossing." Lucille went away hastily and he did not seem to take any note 0 her going. His face darkened again, and all its wrinkles grew deeper. It was just as the steam whistles began to sound again for one o'clock and work that he muttered : The last man 0 them So much or Kaiser, and Tsar, and Ban! I only wish it could have been man for man, but "\Ve did not have enough of them!" At some time or other, evidently, even human ven geance had fallen short for lack of materials to work on. It always fails in some way or other. Just now the last of the one o'clock whistles had blo-wn

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112 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. itsel out and Mr. Gerichten went down into the shop. His first duty after getting there was to bow 'vith more than his accustomed formal deference to a keen-eyed little gentleman who asked to see Mr. Huyler. "He will return at one, Dr. Talcott," said the boss. "You do entirely right to entrust that work to him. He is the only man who can do it. He can do anything." "I hear so," said the chief authority of the sur gical institution. "I only wish that he had more knowledge of anatomy. You may tell him it will be here either to-day or to-morrow." "vVill you say to-morrow morning, enquired a boyish voice behind him. "We shall be all ready then." "I cannot be here in the morning," said Dr. Tal cott, turning around to look in the face of Chris. "l have other engagements-patients; but I can give you pretty full instructions now. It is an exceedingly delicate mechanism." "Yes, sir," said Chris. "I wouldn't miss it for anything. I can do it. Send it in the morning and come in the afternoon yourself if you can. We'll be ready."

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NEW .ARRIV .ALS. 113 "That will do," said Dr. Talcott. "Please remember that it is very heavy." "We are used to heavy work, doctor," interp osed Mr. Gerichten. "I can give you security if you wish." We do not reqmre any It is fully insured," replied the man of science, but he was also a man of business, and after a few more words to Chris, rather than to Mr. Gerichten, he hurried away. There was one other follow in that shop who had seemed to be deeply interested, but he had. not been called upon to say anything. In fact, Philip had been standing marvellously still, and he had not missed a word of the conversation. There had been a hammer in his hand, and it had been about to fall upon a piece of metal at the click of time, when his quick ears caught the word "anatomy." It was only a word, but it had been as a clog-bar thrust into a cog-wheel, for it stopped everything instantly. The hammer did not fall, it only lay down . Philip did not move He hardly seemed to breathe while he was getting the idea of what it was that re quired such careful handling and mending. Then, just as the doctor hurried out of the shop, the hammer was suddenly picked up and down it

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114 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. came with a clang, while Phil laughed aloud and called out: Chris, I'll carry that thing up to your room. Don't you trust anybody else with it. It's just what I want to see." "I guess so," replied Chris. "I went there and examined it. Tell you wba.t, though, there's a heap 0 work to be done on it." "I am almost sorry," said Mr. Gerich ten. "And yet it is so important. What shall we do with the other jobs?" "Do the best we can," said Chris. ''I'll do a great deal 0 that in the evenings. They don't need it back as soon as they say they do, but they're nervous about it. There are less than a dozen like it in all the world." "I've read about it," said Phil. "They say it's a kind 0 miracle." Not even Chris seemed to notiee that there was anything the matter with Phil, but there was. HG had not been exactly iike his ordinary self since he came back that morning from bis first look at the inside 0 a palace; 0 a house costly enough or a king to live in, and really costing much more than the houses 0 the smaller run 0 kings. Now there

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NEW ARRIVALS. 115 had been another change in him. It was a warm day, to be sure, but he was not exerting bimsel in any way to make him get so red in the face and to perspire in that manner. Besides, he was half. way singing to himself as he hammered at his job, and be had never before been known to do so. One would think that the last place in the world for a boy to get excited in would be a dusty old shop where they did mending, filed keys, and made patent office models. Whatever might be the cause 0 any unusual fermentation in a mere boy who was learning to be a brass filer, it could not have spread so as to disturb anybody el se. Never theless, something had also been the matter with Lucille. She had slipped through the shop with out a word to anybody, just after luncheon, and it was only about an hour later that she sud denly re-entered her own room and banged the door behind her. I'm so glad she exclaimed. The library's closed till the middle of September. The Art Insti tute won't begin again till then either. I can prac ti s e anything. I've nothing el s e to do all summer. I can get a music book and begin at the beginning. That and my drawing."

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116 CHRIS, TiiE MODEL MAKER. She was all but dancing, and then she seemed to be all at once taken with an idea that the plants needed watering liberally, and even the floor came in for a share, she was so happy. Some 0 them touched each other knowingly as she worked among them, but they made no :emark. The only audible reply came from the canary. He seemed, at first, to be in a kind 0 triumph over her return, being, per haps, under an impression that he had whistled her back again to keep him company, but all his noisy exultation turned into wrath and scolding the moment she drew the bow across the responsive bosom 0 the fiddle. He really knew too much about music to be pleased with the first outcry that came from that instrument. She only shook her bow at him, however, and went on with her music. Lucille was to obey her ather's commands concern ing piano practice in the afternoons, it was evident, and there was to be neither library nor art school during several weeks, but the violin could have all the mornings. That was not all that was on her mind, for she finally put down the violin and re marked: "I must do some reading, too. I can learn a great deal from the books in father's room-from

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NEW .ARRIV .ALS. 117 some of them. I can read the French and German books. Sara Vladovna says I'm forgetting how to talk Polish. But I can speak German better than she can. I'll have all the education I can get, anyhow."

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CHAPTER VIII. PHILIP'S .ADVENTURE. JDHERE are days which seem to have in them more than their proper share 0 the things which are bound to come. They may be short winter days like Christmas, or they may be long summer clays like the Fourth 0 July, or like this upon which Mrs. Huyler's piano climbed into her parlor drying-room. It is not the mere length in hours which tells in any case, and in this it could not have been altogether the work 0 the piano. Philip, for instance, took but little interest in that instrument, for be bad no idea whatever 0 learning to play upon it. So ar from being excited by its arrival, he seemed to grow sober and thought :ful as the long, warm hours went by, and as one piece 0 tinkering followed another in the dull and humdrum basement where he was at work. He did bis work as usual, to be sure, but be could not help looking around him now and then, and when he did 118

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PHILIP'S ADVENTURE. 119 so, something inside 0 him insisted on working in spite 0 him. Perhaps it was his imagination stirring up his ambition, and perhaps some 0 the models helped it, for the men who had made the inventions expected to get rich out 0 them. Whatever it was, he again and again caught himself looking right through the walls 0 the dingy shop, and on up Laurens Street, and up Fifth Avenue, and into the grand drawing-room 0 the palace where he had mended the pipe and faucet in the bathroom. He could see it all, room after room, from the deep, cool subcellar, with its stone arches, to the luxurious chambers in the upper stories. There was such an awful difference between poor people's way 0 living and the palace life he had looked into! Only once did a curious question pop into his mind that made him ask : Well, i there were no big houses to make or mend, what would all the workmen have to do? I don't know. The city can't be all big houses. I don't care to have such a house as that, anyhow, but I wish I knew what's going to become 0 me." He felt that he hated ling brass for a living any how, or hammering iron, or tinkering tin, but here he was and he could not see any way out of it. It 9

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120 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. was entirely natural, however, that he should say, toward the close 0 the day : I won't do any reading to-night. I forget it as ast as I read it. \V ell, yes; I do like it, but it isn't 0 any kind 0 use. I shan't ever do anything with it." When evening came at last, and the shop was closed, it was really vacated, for even Chris put away all his tools and papers and vanished. During all the aternoon old Mr. Gerichten had grown more solemn and more stately. He was as polite as ever, or more so, but whenever he had direc tions to give, they were given gruffly, with a manner like that 0 an officer giving orders to his soldiers. When he went upstairs at six o'clock, supper was ready and he ate it, but he hardly uttered a word all the while, and both Sara Vladovna and Lucille seemed willing to be as silent as he was. vVhen at last he arose from the table he went to his room for a ew minutes. Only a ew, but he came down again in an entirely diff e rent dress. On his eet were a pair 0 boots which looked a little old, but they must have been expensive when new, or they came up above his knees, outside 0 a tightly fitting pair 0 black trousers. It could be

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PHILIP'S .ADVENTURE. 121 seen that his shirt collar was spotless, but below that was a long black waistcoat buttoning up to his throat with a queer sort or ornamental buttons. He wore no coat excepting a long, loose, brown linen duster, and he was now buttoning up that, so that little or the rest or bis rig could be seen. No doubt both Sara and Lucille knew all about it, or they were not at all surprised, but his left breast under the duster was spangled with a brilliant cql. lection or stars, crosses, and medals, banging by short ribbons, and around bis waist was a sash and a broad, black belt. Nobody would have known it, seeing only the loose linen outer garment and the boots, but he had put on all but the jacket, spurs, and sword or a famous regiment or Polish lancers. Lucille's face put on a sad, wistful look as she glanced at the glittering decorations, and Sara stood, bowing respectfully, with her at arms crossed upon her apron. He was something more than a Laurens Street workman to them, and at some time or other he had worn a sabre also and had commanded battalions or horsemen. "Lucille," he said, Sara Vladovna will remain. I shall be late. This is the anniversary." "Yes, father," she said, "I know."

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122 CHRIS, THE MODEL llf.AKER. "There will be few of us there," he said, and with that he stalked out of the house, taking with him the shadow of some old, dark memory; but no such shadow was falling upon the great mass of his fellow citizens that summer evening, and certainly not any of it remained long upon his daughter. "Poor father she said as he went out, but that was all, and in a moment more she exclaimed, "Now The violin first and then the books. I wish I had some other kinds of books." She hurried out of the room and up the stairs, and in a moment more Sara Vladovna stood at the foot of them, listening with uplifted hands in silent astonish ment to the mingled torrent of fiddle and canary music which came pouring down from the upper floor. Chris had left the Gerichten shop only to go to another, and he was now in the great garret cave, under his mother's roof. If he did not seem at all excited, he was, at least, crutching himself hither and thither with a great deal of vivacity. He looked bright and contented, moreover, as if he were doing the very thing he liked best. It was still broad daylight, but he was employing that light upon his first work in a some

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PHILIP'S ADVENTUHE. 123 what remarkable way. He seemed to be preparing to use a large number of artificial lights; and either their number, or something he proposed to do with them, struck him as pretty good fun. There were indeed many of them, some on long arms of metal tubing, working on binges or knuckle-joints, while others were at the ends of india-rubber pipes, to go anywhere. It was a wonder what any fellow in his senses could find to do with all that gas-fixturing. If that was out of the common order of human affairs, so were a number of grotesque and hideous shapes, in gilded or painted wood or metal and leather which he began to pull about the :floor, examining into their general health and conditions and now and then pausing to tinker them. There are a great many things which are mysterious until the explanation is given, and Chris left the mystery of his garret cave just where it was, monsters and all. At last be remarked : If that thing of Dr. Talcott's is coming to-mor row, I'm glad all these are so nearly ready to send away. I'd like to see that spectacle play, though, when it's acted. I'll have to go to the rehearsal, anyhow, and see if they get the effects in all right." Something like a sane idea began to creep m,

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124 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. therefore, with a suggestion of practical mechanism which might be paid for by somebody. Still, there were many things for which he did not offer any explanation at all. He played with the lights in a way that was even small-boyish, apparently, turning them up and down frequently. They were supplied from a central tube, so that he could make them work all together. He studied his light effects with something of the air of an artist studying a picture, and seemed especially interested in the conduct of his skeleton and man i.n armor. He put them in various positions, but they were sitting comfortably in their chairs when the gong on his table struck thrice and he exclaimed: "Somebody to see me?" He must have sent some reply that was under stood downstairs, for in a moment more his mother lifted the hatch door at the head of them and said : "It's Mr. Selden Stimson." "Show him right up," said Chris. "I'm just about ready for him." In an instant, the cave grew almost dark, but Chris went to the batch and again lifted it. "Walk up, Mr. Stimson,'' he said, "I'm glad you've come."

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PHILIP'S ADVENTURE. 125 Slowly, enquiring1y, digni:fiedly, Mr. Stimson came up the stairs, saying: "I wanted another talk with you, Stub. I didn't know you had another shop, though, but I'm glad of it. We can be more private. It's a great deal better that I did not go to Washington before seeing you. I think I shall go to-morrow." "I'm ever so glad you came," repeated Chris. "I'll light up. Take a seat, Mi Stimson. AU right. That chair:'' Down sat the great inventor, mopping his bald head and remarking: "Yes, light up. It's pretty dark in this den. Queerish kind of place. What do you do here, Stub ? Ah! vVby?" Chris, at that moment, was standing near the table, and he was pulling at something with all bis small might, just as every gas jet in the garret sprang at once into fuU blaze. Well might his bright eyes dance as they did and his face grow radiant with fun! At Mr. Stimson's right, a grinning, nodding skele ton arose, full height, and held out a bony hand. At his left, in like manner, a tall, steel-clad crusader extended a gauntleted greeting. The light dimin -

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] 26 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. ished again, le_aving those weird companions still visible, while across the floor slid toward him half a dozen g9blin shapes of monster owls, fiery toads, gas-lit crocodiles, elephant-heads, and nondescripts, and the music box rang out its loudest waltz and the room seemed full of bells. The light blazed out again, went down to a flicker, and then seemed to put on a bluish tinge; but Chris was ),lot yet perfectly acquainted with Mr. Selden Stimson. That gentleman had not ?een startled out of his good manners. He arose as politely as did the skeleton, put out his own hand in response, and calmly remarked to him: "How d'ye do? Glad to meet you. Unexpected pleasure, my dear sir. 'Pon my soul, I thought you were dead." He dropped the bony fingers, only to turn and say to the suit of armor : "I didn't really expect to meet you here, this evening. Glad you've brought your family and :friends. Huyler, my boy, this is extraordinary. I always wondered who got up these theatrical things. Knew they did it somewhere, of course. Now shut 'em aU off, and let you and me have a talk about the Phantom Borer."

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Mr. Stimson makes some new acquaintances.

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PHILIP'S ADVENTURE. 127 He was a man of nerve as well as of humor, or he at once sat down again in the throne-like chair from which he had risen. As he did so, down sat his mute neighbors on the right and left. Chris ceased his pulling at the knob on the table leg, and came over and sat down upon a kind of divan which he pulled in front of his visitor. As the latter n o w glanced curiously around him or a moment he might well have imagined that some kind of Phan tom, if not exactly a Borer, had been at work and had given him admission to some weird chamber of the under-world. All the pompous merriment in Mr. Stimson's ace, however, was more than responded to by the laugh in that of the dwarf mechanic. He was indeed the genius of the place, and his presence gave it a singular air of c o m pleteness. The bit of fun and exhibition was over, neverthe less, or the great man was seriously preoccupied by his own ambitions and inventive creations, and bad little more to say about the curiosities of the cavern he was in. Not but what he had notions of his own about theatrical machinery, or he said so to Chris in a kindly and instructive condescension. Even speaking of them, and of how wonderfully

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128 CHRIS, THE MODEL :l\fAKER. scenery could be produced, however, led him on into several verbal pictures 0 how things would probably look in his proposed underground city among the streets to be provided for by the Phantom Borer. To these he added next a descriptive view of Governor's Island, redeemed from forts and war to storehouses and commerce. In a more general way he spoke of other islands; of the new relations to be established between them and the several con tinents; and he talked of long tunnels, holes to be bored under even the oceans, as if some of them might shortly be ready for him to take an afternoon dri ' e through one of them. Chris was a good listener, and he was all the while paying close attention, but his bright face gradually assumed, almost comically, the expression of a man of business, and he may have been think ing of something else besides the Borer and the long boles under the seas when he remarked: "It'll cost a heap of money. It takes capita1. Every invention needs money to begin with. That's what's the matter with almost all the invent ors I've known. Known lots of 'em, too." "Capital?" exclaimed Mr. Stimson. "Bless my

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PHILIP'S .ADVENTURE. 129 soul I know all about that. Why, Stub, :finance is my especial field. I shall have no difficulty about capital. The idea takes with financiers. I am already obtaining advances of cash from some of our longest headed men. Our great bankers and projectors are ready to put money into almost any thing. Just think of what things they have put their own and other people's money into That isn't the difficulty--" What is it?" quickly asked Chris. ""What is it?" echoed Mr. Stimson. "Why, my dear boy, it's politics. You can't guess what objec tions there would be, for instance, to having a New York street run out under the Atlantic." Chris thought he could, but he did not say so, and he seemed disposed to give it up and begin to talk about the invention itself. He spoke very encouragingly about the progress he was making with the plans and drawings. He had them there on the table to show to Mr. Stimson and to point out the differences between them and the remark able drawing the inventor had at first brought with him. Mr. Stimson studied, and now and then his face reddened a little, for he was the inventor, and Chris

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130 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. was only a model maker, whatever might be the value of any of his ideas. He was small and young, too, and be was a dwarf and a cripple. "I can't say that I exactly get your idea, Stub," he said at last. "There may be something in it, though. Anyhow, I must go now. Work it out as fast as you can. It's the greatest of the age." In a minute more he was gone, working his digni :tied way down the flights of stairs to the street, but Chris did not at once go to bed. He went to a drawer of his table, took out a lot of drawings and began to ponder them. Then he lay down among his cushions and took them with him, seeming to be so utterly absorbed that he did not notice how the skeleton and the man in armor slowly rose and leaned forward as if they desired to peer into what he was doing. It was evident that he had neglected detaching them from the clockwork which made them arise at midnight. l that had been a thinking evening for Chris, so had it been for Philip, but in a somewhat different way. Phil went to his own room after dinner, but he kept his word about not reading. He sat down for a while, and the great book of anatomical plates

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PHILIP'S .ADVENTURE. 131 lay open before him on the table. It did not seem to interest him, nor did be pay any attention to a sound 0 piano-thumping which came spasmodically up from the drying-room, although he smiled and remarked, "Mother's happy." It was not exactly music, but there was a great deal 0 it, for there was strength in the at fingers with which Mrs. Huyler was experimenting upon the keys. She tried the .white keys, all 0 them, and she did not at all neglect the black keys, and she seemed really to have some idea 0 what was to be clone with them. All the trouble was that she had never learned how to do it. "My hands don't stretch well," she said. "Lu cille's fingers will spread all the way out. Chris has the limberest hands I ever saw. He can play first rate." There was not any music at all in Phil. He did not seem positively dejected, but he bad something on his mind, and be made no attempt at dressing up beore he went out 0 the hou se. He even went out with an old straw hat on and without a coat. To be sure it was a warm evening, and not one man or boy in four 0 all who were sitting on the stoops and steps 0 Laurens Street was wearing a coat.

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132 CHRIS, THE l\iODEL lliAKER. Phil was following the fashion 0 that neighbor hood, and his blue-checked shirt was also about the correct thing. His leather apron bad been left in the shop, 0 course, but his entire rig was that 0 a model maker's assistant. It was altogether different from the neat outfit with which be had accompanied Lucille the evening before. The worst 0 it all was, for the state 0 mind he was in, that he seemed per fectly at home in it. He was the kind 0 boy that is born to dress in that way and to keep it on all his life. That was what his angry, ambitious thoughts were telling him, and so he strolled away down to Canal Street without taking any other boy into his confidence There were plenty 0 boys to be seen, too, and he must have known a great many 0 them, for they hailed him in all sorts 0 ways. He seemed to be even a popular fellow among them, or a good natured youngster with uncommonly tough muscles is sure to stand well with his boy acquaintauces. There was a pretty important point, right there, not only for him but for all 0 them, and it had something to do with the way Phil was feeling. He was a Laurens Street boy, and there was po baseball ground, for instance, in all that region. There did not seem to be anything for him or for

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PHILIP'S ADVENTURE. 133 them to do, after working hours were over. That is one of the differences between city life and country life, always, but then there are large parts of the city where opportunities can be had for sport of some kind. Then there are other large parts, swarming with boys, where the state of things is even worse for them than it was on Laurens Street. Phil felt almost as if he were in a kind of bottle and corked up, with a wire on the cork to keep it in. Then he felt as if he were himself a kind of bottle ; a boy with a great deal in him that was fer. menting and that gave him a ready-to-burst feeling. That being the case, he was disposed to walk slowly. Who ever heard of a bottle being in a hurry? He did not care where he was going, and he wen t along Canal Street till it reached Broad way He did not care for that fact either, but stood still, for some minutes, looking for a while down the street "Away down there" he thouaht "is Wall Street 0 ' and the banks are there, and oceans of money. How on earth did all those old fellows get hold of so much ? Business ? Business ? How is a fellow to get into business ? Guess I must find out." Then he turned and looked up Broadway. There

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134 ORRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. were not many people to see. Nothing but long rows of stores and innumerable signs of business concerns which employed poor people to work for them. "Buying and selling," he thought. "All those men were boys once. They began, somehow. I don't know anything about business. I wish I did, though." Phil was a little overcome, and there was so much to think of his courage had been almost knocked out of him. The very place he had tinkered lead pipe in had been too much for him. He could not argue the matter, for he was only a boy just begin ning to feel ambitious-that is, like trying to do something and be somebody. As there was nothing particular to be done, just now, he turned and walked straight across Broadway, as if he did not care to see any more of the business places, that evening. Just as he did so, a tall man in a linen duster and top boots, a man with very white mustaches, strode slowly past him without speaking. "Old Gerich ten," muttered Philip. "Isn't he straight up and down, though He's a real good looking old fellow, when he's fixed up." So he was, and there was nobody else in sight that

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PHILIP'S .ADVENTURE. 135 was walking with one half so stately, so measured a tread, or that wore so very strong an appearance of self-respect. Philip walked on in the same direction, without any purpose of following Mr. Gerich ten, but because they were both going the same way. It was a way that led them quickly into a very unhandsome neighborhood. Much of it looked older than even Laurens Street and Phil knew all about it, for he said to himself : Worst kind of places. Guess any man with money about him had better keep away from this. After dal'k he had, anyhow. Right down yonder is the Five Points, and all sorts of mischief. More roughs and more thieves! Hullo! What's that? A fight! The cops are coming Look at 'em If it would have been better and more prudent for Phil not to have looked on and not to have gone any nearer, he was an unwise boy and did not do what was better and more prudent. In fact, there was a strange kind of fascination in the angry hurly-burly that was suddenly taking place on the corner, within thirty yards of him. He saw at least one Chinaman, several more that looked like sailors, and a number of others, all foreigners apparent1y, and 10

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136 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. all shouting furiously in tongues which Phil could not understan(l. Clubs exclaimed Phil. Knives That's awful Some of 'em are down Pistols! There come the cops, but they aint enough for 'em Yes, they were. Four stalwart policemen, charg ing resolutely into that fray, plying their clubs vigorously as they went, were quite enough, and for a very good reason. It was not altogether because they were so strong, or could handle their locust clubs so well, or even because they had the law on their side and were enforcing it bravely. Quite as important was the fact that the fight had already been so sharp, and that some of the more desperate :fighters were already used up. One, in particular, lay flat upon bis back and bad been left behind, as the police charged over him and the crowd scattered before them. It seemed to Phil as if he could not help it, and he darted forwarJ to see what was the matter with that man. There he lay, as Phil knelt be s ide him, and he seemed insensible. There was a mark on his fore head as if he had been hit with a club. "That isn't the worst of it," exclaimed Phil

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PHILIP'S .ADVENTURE. 137 Where's all this blood coming from ? I see It's his right arm." The man was dressed in what seemed a sort of man-o'-war uniform, as if he were a sailor from some European cruiser then in the harbor. His arm lay stretched out upon the flag stones, and it was bleed ing rapidly. "I know," shouted Phil, almost breathless with excitement. "It's got to be done right away! Quick!" Out came his pocket knife, and he ripped up the sleeve of the sailor's blue :flannel shirt. Get out o' the way, boy," growled a gruff voice behind. "I want to ban Lage that cut." "No, you don't," shouted Phil. 'Tisn't a cut. It's a bullet did that. There's an artery touched. See it spurt! I must tie it above the hole." He was moving with wonderful quickness, for already he had his handkerchief around that hairy, muscular arm, two inches above the wound, and was tying it with all his might. It was well that he was so strong. "Get out o' the way," said the voice again. "Let me come. I'll put on a bandage. We must stop the bleeding."

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138 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "Get out o' the way yourse1," broke m another voice. "The boy is right. Keep your hands off. Tight, Phil draw it tight." "Wish I had a stick," said Phil ; but he had indeed drawn tightly, and now, as the wounded arm lay out upon the stone, be was pressing down bard with his thumb on a line with the bullet hole. "You're as good as a tourniquet,'' began Mr. Gerichten, but at that moment a policeman arrived, bent forward a moment, and then said, in a tone of authority: "We must take him to the hospital. Get up, boy!" "No, he mustn't get up," said Mr. Gerich ten. "I've seen wounds enough. l he takes his thumb away the man will bleed to death. Glad he's so strong. Dr. Talcott? Good! You're just in time. Tell 'em Phil mustn't stir "Indeed he must not. Officer, send for an am bu. lance!" responded the sharp, imperative tones of the doctor. "I've just been to another surgical case. Glad I got here. Hold hard, boy I'll rig a tourniquet." So he did, with Phil's handkerchief, a pebble, and

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PHILIP'S .ADVENTURE. 139 a stick to twist with, and the bleeding was stopped, but the doctor said : Mr. Gerichten, i your boy had not set at work at once, I'd probably have been too late. It's well enough now, or the bone wasn't touched " Go along, Philip," said Mr. Gerich ten. "You are fit to be a soldier Brave boy Philip could not understand that he bad shown any courage in doing what seemed to him so very simple and matter 0 course a thing, but he replied to Mr. Gerichten : I'm glad I knew bow. Soon's I saw it bleed, I knew 'twasn't a veiii, 'twas an artery." Mr. Gerichten nodded, or he was an old soldier and had probably learned on battlefields the differ ence that there is between the two kinds 0 hurts. Dr. Talcott had hardly looked at either 0 them, his eyes not turning away from his patient, but they heard him grumble: "Wonder he knew so much Extraordinary There's more ignorance! Wish there was some way 0 teaching people Mr. Gerichten stalked away, or be had some place to go to. Philip had not any in particular, but be too was willing to get out d the dense and jab-

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140 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. bering throng which had gathered. More policemen had arrived in hot haste, and they had made a num ber 0 arrests, but it required at least three 0 them to keep Dr. Talcott and the wounded sailor from being actually trampled on. Philip heard one 0 them say: "It's the worst fight there's been 'round here for more'n a month. Wonder none 0 'em were killed." "Some 0 'em are pretty well clubbed," replied another policeman, "and half a dozen 0 'em are knife-sliced." It all Philip think a little, as he walked away. For some reason or other his blues were all gone and he stepped off cheerfully. It could not / have been just because he had seen for the first time in his a desperate fight. The fact that these fellows had been hurt had not given him better spirits. He did not at all understand the matter, but part 0 it could have been explained for him. He had really taken a long step upward. He was an older boy, and there was more of him. He had bee;n improved not only by :finding out that he knew something;, but, as old Mr. Gerichten had said, by being "brave'' enough to step right forward and do the best he knew how.

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CHAPTER IX. PHIL AND HIS PRIZE. DHE next summer morning was a very fine one and it reached the city early. When it looked into the garret cave it found Chris sound asleep among his cushions, with his drawings scattered around him. It was only an hour later, however, that he was awakened by an uproar of musical sounds in the room below and knew that hi s enthusiastic mother was already at her piano. She was there and she was happy, but the first movement made by Chris was to put his right hand to his side and remark: There it i s It's about as usual. Well, I must get up and go to work. I decl a re it's pretty hard this morning! It pulls." No doubt something was hurting him, but then he was u sed to it and did not intend to let it inter fere with him too much. He even got so far the mastery of it that he be gan to whistle while he was 141

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142 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. winding up his great music box with a crank. Bright as a lark was the morning, and it seemed to brighten everybody, more or less. Old Mr. Gerichten had not waked up to another battle anniversary, and he was exceedingly polite to Sara Vladovna when she bowed and said "Good-morning," with her arms crossed before her. Lucille's face was radiant while she watered her plants and exchanged merry scold ings with her canary, and the violin, leaning in a corner, looked as if all it needed was legs to step out in her direction. As for Philip, there was evidently something the matter with him. He was in the shop before Mr. Gerichten came down, and went about his work as usual He did not say anything to the boys con cerning the fight, but he knew there was an account of it in all the newspapers and that some of them, at least, had spoken of him as a young medical student." Phil was silent, but if ever a boy's face could speak without speaking his face told for him that he was expecting something. Chris was not in the shop and Philip probably knew the reason why; but it was not a great while before a boy leaned down at the edge of the sidewalk and shouted at his loudest:

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PHIL AND HIS PRIZE. 143 "Phi-il Hullo! Mr. Huyler says to tell you it's come and he wants you." Philip almost jumped. He dropped the mahogany hull of a newly invented iron steamship into the jaws of a half :finished washing machine and went right out, with his leather apron on. Even Mr. Gerichten exhibited more than ordinary interest in the announced arrivall and at once walked slowly out; but he did not bow to anybody on the side walk. The boy was gone. There was a dray in front of Mrs. Huyler's place, and on it lay a wooden case that might almost have been declared to be a coffin. There were the usual handles on the sides for lifting, but there were also similar handles at the ends, and so it was some thing else. "Now I'll get some min to h'ist it in," said the drayman. "No, you needn't," said Phil, as he eagerly in spected the treasure on the dray. "Our stairs are too narrow for more'n two to work. You take one end of it and I'll take the other." "That won't do. It's impossible. You might let it fall. Why, it weighs--" "Dr. Talcott," interrupted Chris himself, confi-

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144 CHRIS, THE MODEL MA.KER. dently, for the doctor was evidently anxious, "don't you mind what it weighs. He can do it." "Mere boy," muttered the doctor, but even Mr. Gerichten ass ured him: Wait and see. I think he can." The rest of them knew that Dr. Talcott was there, but Philip had hardly looked at him. He had noticed, however, that the drayman was large and muscular and seemed properly made to be a good lifter. He was now steadily pulling the case along and one end of it rested on the sidewalk. "I declare exclaimed Dr. Talcott in a moment more. "What wouldn't I .give for strength like that I could set a leg--" He paused there, for he was taking close note of the manner in which Philip and the drayman were handling the case. H the latter had all the bones and muscles called for by his end of the lift, his face and his breathing witnessed, nevertheless, to the fact that he was exerting himself a little. If Philip, at the other end, were al s o putting out his strength, he gave no s ign of it. Up came the case, or whatever it might b e and he led the way with it into the house as if it really made him feel first-rate to carry it. Perhaps among the things he had not yet learned

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PHIL AND HIS PRIZE. 145 like other people, or had forgotten ater learning it, had been the ordinary rules 0 the attraction 0 gravitation. Mrs. Huyler was in her drying-room finishing some laces, and she came to the head 0 the stairs, flat-iron in hand; to watch from above, as Chris and the doctor and Mr. Gerichten were watching from below. Up came the two bearers, a stair at a time, steadily, until that floor was reached, and then Chris and the doctor went ahead and up into the garret to stand over tbe open hatch, while Mr. Gerichten continued follow below, as i he meant to be ready to catch the whole concern in case Philip and the drayman should suddenly give out or let go. They did not do either, and the upper stairs were successfully climbed; but the moment his job was done the drayman straightened himsel and mopped his ace, exclaiming: "It's the warrum day, intirely. The b'ye's a fine b'ye. Y e'll be a sthrong man, me b'ye, but ye mustn't overlit yoursel till ye get your size. It's not many b'yes could do it." "Humph!" grumbled the doctor. "I was sure he couldn't, but he did. I remember him, now. I'll see him again ; and then he said to Chris : I must

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146 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. go to see a patient right away, or I'd stay and see you open it. I'll come back as soon as I can. Of course you will exercise the greatest care." That was all, and he was off, for his gig was waiting in the street. "We will," said Chris, and Phil was already at work with a screwdriver. The doctor had hardly reached his gig before the lid of that case was off. Then a lot of packing stuff was removed as ten derly as if it had been the bandages over a bad burn. Under them lay something at which Philip stared clown for a moment with unmistakable delight. He then stooped and put his arms care fully around it and lifted with all his might. "Up it comes he said. "There It can sit up in the box--" "I thocht it exclaimed the drayman from the head of the stairs, where he had lingered until he could see the end of Phil's lift. "'I'hat's what it is. It's wan o' thim monkeykins that pales off in slices. It's aU the insides of a mon to tache docthors wid, and it's little they know aftber all." That was it precisely, but a great deal of the weight which bad troubled them had belonged to

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PHIL AND HIS PRIZE. 147 the strongly made box and the packing. There was enough let to test the muscles 0 Philip, but in a minute or so more one the most perfect manikins in all the world occupied the throne chair which Mr. Stimson had occupied the previous even ing between the crusader and the skeleton. Mr. Gerichten bad been watching or overseeing, but he had not actually put in any labor. He now drew a long breath 0 relief and remarked: I'm glad it's safe. I must go back to the shop now, but I'm afraid that is going to be a pretty long job. It must be done as quickly as possible, too." He was gone, and Chris and Phil were left alone with the garret cave and its very remarkable con tents. Neither of them seemed to be in any hurry about the last job arrived, but rather disposed to study it, or at least all they could see of it. Even the outside sho'i' ved exceedingly delicate workman ship, and Phil looked it all over. "Is he much damaged?" he asked, as if the mani kin were a human being. "Dr. Talcott says these outside bruises are nothing," said Chris. "He is injured internally. Some of him won't take to pieces, and some 0 the

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148 cnms, THE MODEL 1\IAKER. pieces can't be made to fit into their places. They are all there, but they are out 0 shape." The expression upon Phil's ace was one 0 strong sympathy, as i be elt or the hurts and sufferings 0 that marvellous manikin. Just then the piano began to sound in the room below, and Chris remarked: "That isn't mother, it's Lucille. How well she is doing! She is going to be thorough, too. Now, Phil, we must find out all we can. Let's open him." Carefully, tenderly, leaning on his crutch, and studying his work intensely as he went on, Chris began to take off one 0 the sections 0 the artificial humanity be was expected to repair. "'Tisn't in his bead," he said bopeul1y. "They think his brains are all ri g ht. But there's some thing gone wrong in his body. We'll bunt in him till we find out what it is. I can set him up!" The bony nei g hbor at the patient's right hand bad been disturbed by some 0 the movements 0 thos e two manikin surgeons, and be now leaned over as i his interest in the matter were increasing. So did the man in armor, his helmet e d head turning slowly on its pivot. Philip was also leaning for

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PHIL .AND HIS PRIZE. 149 wa:r:d, with an intensity in his eyes that made him look like another fellow. The ace 0 the manikin himself did not express anything in particular, unless it may have been that it indicated proper patience and a readiness to bear whatever they might do. Muscles, bones, brains, veins, arteries, nerves, how wonderfully they had been discovered, located, imitated, by the scientific artists who bad con structed that body! "Tongue, ears, eyes," said Philip. "I guess they're right about bis head. He can think as well as be ever could." "Guess he can," replied Chris. "I know some men that can't do a great deal better than he can. All they think isn't worth a row 0 beans." That investigation was a slow, cautious, absorbing process, but the two workmen who were making it were evidently something more than mere mechanics. That is, i any man can really be a good mechanic without at the same time being something more. An hour went by and part 0 another. Piece after piece was removed, and deeper and deeper they went into the strange mystery 0 how a man 1s made.

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150 CHRIS, 'l'HE MODEI, ll!AKER. "We've got so far," remarked Chris, "and I guess the worst of his difficulties is further in him." They had been too much engrossed in their work to have their ears open wide. Even a cessation of the piano music had escaped their notice,. and so had almost noiseless footsteps on the stairs. All phy sicians step carefully when they are entering a sick room, but now the voice of Dr. Talcott, behind them, suddenly exclaimed: "Why, Huyler, your young friend has given the right name to almost every piece he has touched! There wasn't a graduate in our last three classes-" Then he paused and Chris replied : "Dr. Talcott, Philip's been studying for ever and ever so long." "And I never could remember any of it," said Phil regretfully. There I was thinking about that. His heart got knocked out of place," and he added two or three long book-words as he pointed at some of the consequences of the manikin's un lucky downfall. "Hurrah!" exclaimed Dr. Talcott; '(I didn't sup pose there were two such mechanics in the country. All my anxiety about him is gone." "He'll get well, doctor," said Chris confidently,

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PHIL AND HIS PRIZE. 151 but it'll take time to mend. him. That central pinion is broken short off. l he had been one of our kind of men, he'd have died." "Yes, it wonld have killed him instantly," laughed the doctor, but he turned and said to Philip: "You have been studying anatomy ? How did that happen? "Well, I don't know," said Phil. "Seems to me I never cared for anything else. W el1, no, that isn't so. I always wanted to find out what was inside of anything, no matter what it was. The worst of it is that I never could remember what I learned.') Of course you couldn't," said the doctor. "I never could, myself." "Why, yes," said Phil, "you have to know it all, and teach it, too." "That's it," replied the doctor. "I don't know anything about surgery except when I'm using it. When I'm teaching, or when I have a practical case, like this. You never will--Look here, you're the boy that put on that tourniquet! 'Pon my soul, I thought I'd seen you somewhere! You remember it, then?" "Well," said Phil, "he was hurt and I had to. He'd have died if I hadn't." 11

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152 CHRIS, TIIE MODEL MAKER. "0 course he would," said the doctor. "I'd have a talk with you, but I must go now. I didn't expect to get here to.day any how. Work away, Huyler." "He's a brother 0 mine," said Chris, with more than a little pride in the way he said it, but the doctor was off. He was all the way down the stairs before either 0 them knew that he bad not come up alone, or rather, that anyone had followed him. They were standing and looking at each other and then at the manikin, when Lucille exclaimed: "0 Philip, I'm so glad You did remember, didn't you? I was just wondering when I beard you!'' She spoke enthusiastically and Philip looked very red and very grateful, but he did not make any reply. Chris bad to say something for him, while be bimsel turned again to the manikin as i it mag netized him. Lucille watched him for a moment, and her next remark was made with a kind of shudder. ''I don't care," she said, "it's awful H that's the way we are made, I don't want to know any more about it."

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PilIL AND HIS PRIZE. 153 She whirled away, and hurried down to her piano as if it were a place of refuge. A few minutes later one of Mrs. Huyler's helpers said to the other: "Luk up there AU thim childher is comin' back. The sthrate '11 be full of thim, as long as tbe pianny's goin'." "We'll get used till it," said er friend at the further washtub. "Hand me over the soap. That's it, and it wouldn't do wan of thim any harm, ayther." That might be so, but the Laurens Street children were justified in gathering before the open windows of the Huyler laundry. The music which came out was decidedly better than that of any hand organ they were accustomed to, for Lucille was proving that she was something more than a mere beginner. Sti11, she was a little surprised at it herself. "I guess I'm like Phil," she said. "I remember more than I thought I could. I do believe I could learn to play anything. But isn't it wonderful that Phil should remember all those things after he had forgotten them ? However that might be, her piano practice for bade her thinking any more about it. As for Chris

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154 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. and Phil, they went on with their dissecting work until, when the noon whistles blew, the faculty 0 the smgical college, i they had been there, might well have felt some anxiety as to whether a man or a manikin, so completely pulled apart and scattered, could ever again become collected and be the man he was before. "He's pretty sick," said Chris, and just then the skeleton seemed to nod, as i he agreed, but had nothing more to say. "I would n't have missed it or anything," said Philip, as they prepared to go downstairs. "'Tisn't like reading, nor like pictures. I don't seem to forget it. But then, I don't see how it's ever going to do me any good. I'm going to know all there is in that thing, anyhow!" Chris did not make any direct reply. All he said was: "Tell you what, Phil, there's more in any fellow than people outside 0 him know 0. All you've got to do is to hunt or it and find it." What's the good 0 it i you do ? thought Philip, but he did not speak it out, and they went down, fastening the hatch carefully behind them, lest any careless person should get into the garret and

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PHIL AND HIS PRIZE. 155 disturb their patient while he was so very much out of order. Lucille had gone home, but Mrs. Huyler was in very high spirits about her. "Oh," she exclaimed, "you ought to have beard her p1ay It's a splendid piano!" So it was, if it could give anybody so very much happiness, and that may have been the reason why Chris patted it affectionately as he went by it to the dinner table.

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CHAPTER X LUCILLE'S NEW SCHOOL. [(IORK in the Gerichten shop appeared to begin again as usual at one o'clock, but there was a difference. It was the same place, to be sure, and everything in it looked very nearly the same, but then the great world itself is never the same :from one hour to another. Neither are the people in it, whatever they may think, and what is true of everybody in this respect is especially true of young people, who are just begin ning to :find out what is in the world and what is in themselves. Chris was not there at all, but Philip was. At least he seemed to be there with the other workmen and all the models and Mr. Gerichten, but it would have been almost correct to have said that a great deal of him was up in the garret cave, with bis crippled brother and the sick manikin. The old model maker had a great deal on his mind that day, but it was not long before he was compelled 156

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LUCILLE'S NEW SCHOOL. 157 to look in a puzzled way at Philip. He had almost an impression at first that he had employed a new boy, and he at last declared to himsel : "Something's the matter with him. He never before looked or acted just as he is doing this after noon. Why He has answered four or five cus tomers without calling me or waiting until I came It was my business, not his, to tell them that Mr. Huyler was out and they would have to call again." In each case, nevertheless, it was Mr. Gerichten who had done all the bowing required, and he had not failed to hear each man say, in turn: "All right, Mr. Huyler's the man I want to see. You can tell him I called. I will come again." Clink, clink, clink, rat-tat tap-rap, went Phil's hammer the rest of the time upon some finer riveting work than was usually entrusted to him. It was a testimony that he was becoming more skilful in the use of tools. He knew that it belonged to a machine which was to deal with electricity in some way, he did not know exactly how. He did not care, for he felt that his hammer was not the only thin g at work. It was all the while think, think, think, and every now and then it was hope, hope, hope, very vaguely, and wake, wake, wake up, look up, and part of the ..

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158 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. thought which he did not speak took shape again and again and told him : I can take that manikin apart and I can put it together again, with Chris to do the mending. Those plates in the book and what I read about them did teach me, after all. I'm not so stupid as I thought I was. I can remember, it all comes back when it's wanted. It's a kind 0 miracle." Sara Vladovna finished her work and went away to her own home, leaving Lucille all alone in a set 0 rooms 0 which she had more than once said to herself that they were a kind 0 jail. She was not only all alone but she was lonely. She wished, and s be even said so, that she bad a sister or a girl friend for company. She hardly knew bow it was that she had so ew girl acquaintances, but her father could have told her. He had himsel been in part respon sible for a eeling she had about most 0 the girls in that neighborhood. The remainder was due to the act that they did not seem to care for the same things that she did. Most 0 them did not care enough about anything, and it was really strange to Lucille that they should be so contented, as i they never hoped or wished to get out 0 Laurens Street, or into any other kind 0 lie.

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LUCILLE'S NEW SCHOOL. 159 0 course she thought of the manikin, and she laughed over Dr. Talcott's surprise at Philip's dic tionary words. "How strange it is," she said to herself," that Philip should like such studies I wouldn't be a doctor for the world, but I'd like to play everything. I mean to try the organ, if I can get a chance. Piano music isn't anything-I'm glad she got it, though." She had hardly touched the violin that day. The best part of her time had been given persistently to Mrs. Huyler's piano. Now that she was at home again, however, and all alone, still another idea had come. She did not go to her own room except to take a look at the plants and to have a little visit with the canary. Then she came down to the parlor floor and sat by the table, putting down upon it something that she had brought from her father's room. She bad rummaged there among a pile of his books, and she bad found one which was not like most of the rest. It was not by any means a small book and, when she opened it and began to turn the leaves, it could be seen that it contained many pictures and that it was printed in the German type. "He would never let me read novels," she said,

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160 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "but he told me I might read anything m his room. This is a kind of novel, I know it is. I'm so glad I can read German. I do so wish I could have an education. Oh, dear! We shall always be too poor for that, I suppose. I'm glad I went to the grammar school." It was a great deal to have gone through one of the public schools of the city. It was more than she seemed to think; but she was right concerning the queer old volume she had found. It was indeed what is called a novel, and there are a great many kinds of novels. This was a tale of olden story, of love and grief and glory." It was a tale of a brave young hero and a heroic girl, and of noble men and women. It told of kings and queens and warriors ; of castles and camps and battlefield 's; of the old borderland of eastern Europe and the wars between the Christians and the Turks. There were pictures of all sorts, for some of them were portraits, and Lucille knew that she bad a right to think and to wonder if some of the mailed horse men who were contending with the turbaned hosts, whose dark faces and sharp scimitars swarmed around them, had been her father's ancestors or her mother's.

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LUCILLE'S NEW SCHOOL. 161 He says all the men of our race were soldiers," she murmured, "and he was one once, but he can't ever be again." Page after page was turned over, and then she went back to the beg-inning. "I'll read about it anyhow," she said. Father has seen kings and queens. I'd like to see them. He has been all over Europe, but it seems to me I've never been out of Laurens Street. Well, yes, I've seen a great deal of New York, but it hasn't any castles, nor mountain passes, nor woods. !'ll go and see our regiments, though, next time they ar marching. I never cared to look at them, but I do now." Then she said no more, for her eyes and her mind began to be busy with the story and she forgot everything else for-well, she could not tell how long it was until the book was shut up suddenly and she sprang to her feet, exclaiming : "vV eren't they splendid Oh, it was terrible And the man that led the charge was named Von Gerichten It seemed as if she had read all that she could at one reading ; but she need not have been too proud about the name of the hero. There is hardly any boy or girl anywhere, if he or she could read away back and know what was done a

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162 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAREK long time before this day we are living in, who would not find some ancestor coming out as a brave soldier in some way or other. All that part of it was of small enough conse quence, but the old novel had been doing for Lucille, in another way, some such good as Phil's adventure with the wounded sailor in the evening, and then his next adventure with the wounded man ikin in the morning, had done for him. One boy and one girl had been almost lifted out of Laurens Street, although Philip was back in the shop, hammering his rivets, and Lucille was up in her room again, fiddling vigorously while the canary sang at her. If having more work on hand and offering than he could do, or could get anybody to do for him, meant business prosperity, Mr. Gerichten was a pros perous man that afternoon. Perhaps be would have felt better over it if Chris had been in the shop to aid him ih making explanations. As it was, he seemed to become a little annoyed, after a while, and he even bowed sharply, quickly, to one persistent inventor who would not go away without delivering a kind of oration upon the merits of his invention and the losses the world would suffer if bis model should be

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LUCILLE'S NEW SCHOOL. 163 any longer delayed in the making. l\fr. Gericbten seemed to have no sympathy whatever for the suffer ing world, nor for its intended benefactor, but bowed him severely out 0 the shop. 0 course, so dignified a man had not permitted himself to lose his temper, but his white mustaches covered his mouth more tightly than usual when he turned and strode back through the shop and went upstairs. In spite of the size 0 the table in the middle, there was room enough on one side 0 it for him to walk up and down with his hands behind him. It looked as if he had escaped from the shop in order to do that walking, for it was all the work he took up, unless he was also thinking about something. It would have been just the same, however, if he had been trying not to think, for that is often pretty hard work to do. Suddenly he paused in his promenade, for some thing on the table had caught bis eye and halted him. Lucille bad neglected putting away her book and there it lay, open wide at one of the battlefield illus trations. It was not altogether a field of battle, either, for it was a picture of an old-time fortress, in the wall of which a wide breach had been made,

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104 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. and m the breach stood a tall man in complete armor, :fighting to the last against a rush 0 Saracen swordsmen. So ar as could be seen, he seemed to be doing very well, or the ground was covered with badly damaged oes and his two.banded sword was up or another swing at the turbaned warrior in front 0 him. "Von Gerichten exclaimed the old man. He there I am here. I too have been a soldier How is this thing here? Humph! Lucille? She has been reading. Now that is well I am glad 0 it. She may read. She is like her mother. Hullo ? What is that ? Is it possible ? .._ In every word he uttered, correctly, there lingered the peculiar accent which __ told English was not his native tongue, just as all his manner told 0 other associations than those 0 4is tinkering and model-making shop. J us't now he listening intently to the sounds that were coming down ";om . the upper story. They were somewhat mixed, .. it was not at all difficult to tell which was :fiddle '"and;, which was canary. "That is wonderful he exclaimed. I did not know she had a violin. I must not allow her to do that! No? Why not? She plays well. She bas

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LUCILLE'S NEW SCHOOL. 165 genius. I will say nothing at all! Let her go on .But she shall never work. It shall not be. I can work a long time yet. Yes, Lucille may read and she may play the violin and the piano, but I cannot give her an education." It seemed to hurt him, but there was a strong expression of pride in his face as he listened, minute after minute, to his daughter's performance. Of course it was decidedly defective, but he seemed to find in it enough to keep him standing still, with one hand on the open book and the other extended a little, as if to prevent anybody from speaking or interrupting him while the concert was going on. He was a brave looking old man at any time, but it might have done him good if he could have seen, just then, the courageous expression upop. the flushed face of Lucine. "There she exclaimed, as she ceased to ply the bow. I did get it I can learn I will learn I'rri going to learn everything I can. I'll give a concert of my own; some day, just like that young lady that I read of in the papers. She was only three years older than I am. I'll be able to earn my own living now, you see if I don't That was the very thing her father had deter-

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166 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. mined she should never do, but then bis ideas and hers bad not been learned in the same country. 0 what use was it for him to have such a hatred for kings and despotisms and aristocracies, and not to understand the first principles 0 freedom ? Lucille bad begun, at least, to learn them, for all that we call our grnat republic, our America, our free country, is built and must stand on this one foundation, that labor is honorable, that every man and woman should learn to work and should not be ashamed 0 it. Then it follows that all should be free to work. Whe n Lucille paused so did the canary, and old Mr. Gericbten c;_uietly turned away and went down stairs with a smile on his ace, but be let the book lying open upon the table. He must have been feeling pretty we11, for be almost bowed to Philip on entering the shop when be ordered him to go back and get another pail 0 charcoal. Philip went for the coal and he did it in an exceedingly cheerful way, as i it were the very thing he liked best or had been just about going to do.

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CHAPTER XI. PHILIP LOCKED UP UPPER was just over at Mrs. Huyler's that evening, when Philip asked: "I say, Chris, don't you want me up stairs? I'll come." "No," chirruped Chris, in evidently good spirits. "Haven't anything for you to do yet. You'd better get out of doors." "Why, Phil," said his mother,. been in the shop all day. Chris can't go out, but you ought to. It won't do for a boy like you to be shut up all the while." Phil agreed to that, and it was altogether the cus tomary thing for Chris to prefer to be alone with his plans and drawings, or with any of his more difficult work. He never wanted even Philip in the garret un less there might be lifting or moving to be done. He was a pretty positive little fellow, too, and there was no disputing him, although Philip would have been glad to have had at least one more chance at the 12 167

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168 CHRIS, TIIE MODEL MA.KER. manikin. As it was, he had to content himself with fixing up just a little, under the direction of his mother, and going out into the open air. It was a kind of getting out of jail, but when he stood on the stoop and looked this way and that, it seemed to him as if all he could see were part of the shop. He was not really out so long as be was anywhere in Laurens Street. The idea may have been :floating in the air, for Mr. Gerichten himself caught it before Sam Vladov na bad finished her wprk with the dis hes. He was in bis own room and Lucille was away back among her plants when she distinctly heard him say: "She is shut up too much! She can hardly get out of doors. She is like a girl in prison. What shall I do with my Lucille? I am not a jailer She bad never before heard him say as much as that. She had even had an idea that he did not think much about her, except to tell her what things be would never let h e r do. What he wa s saying, however, made her cheeks tingle and her heart flutter, for she had jus t been thinking : I'm in a kind 0 cage. How shall I ever get out ? I wish I could fly She had no wings and she did not believe her

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 169 father could give her any. He was too poor to buy wings of any kind. She knew that, but it was an exceedingly pleasant thing to know that the same thought was in his mind and her own. All the more contentedly could she turn to her book-for she bad brought it with ber-and forget everything else in reading the story of such places and such men and women as sbe had never seen or known. There was one woman among them, a countess with a very long Polish name, wbo bad been a German girl before she was married, and Lucille found herself somehow associating that woman-she was so very lovely and noble and splendid-with all the idea she bad ever had 0 her own mother, whom she could hardly remember at all. She did not know how strongly she was wishing, and had al ways wished for women friends, girl friends ; for all sorts of women older than herself and as many as might be of her own age but with notions like her own. She did not say how com pletely she had ailed to find what she wanted among her neighbors. They might be very good, and some of them were very intelligent, and some families were making a great deal of money, but Lucille had almost a grudge against them because

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170 CHRIS, '.!.'HE MODEL MAKER. _she could not find among them the kind 0 friend she was longing for. That was not at all the trouble with Phil Huyler. Every boy gets along well enough with the follows he is used to. He had friends enough, old and young, but there did not seem to be anything that he could do with them. Probably most 0 his boy acquaintances were as badly off as he was, for there were knots of them on every street corner, and Phil knew that many of them had not had anything par ticular to do all day long. "Loafing must be awful hard work," he said. They don't earn anything either. Don't learn any trade. That's rough. They won't know what to do with themselves." He didn't just then, and so, or the time being, b e was a kind of summer evening loafer. He did not exactly look like one, although he was in his every day working clothes, brushed up, but then every thing about him plainly told what kind of boy he was and that be probably belonged in that part of the city. No such young follow had wandered down there from the where the house fronts are made of brownstone or marble, with plate-glass windows, and where immense four story and base-

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 171 ment buildings are given up to be occupied by les s than half a dozen very happy people and the other half dozen or so that are hired to serve them. That is, if the sizes of the houses people live in have really anything to do with their happiness. Far away from Philip and his evening stroll, but not by any means disconnected from things in the Gerichten shop, was a man concerning whom Philip had been thinking more than once that day, for he knew that Chris was at work upon the Phantom Borer, and that his ingenious brother bad also thoughts and ideas of his own concerning what could be done with the lightning when put into harness. In a pleasant parlor of a house on a pleasant street in the city of Washington, the capital of the Republic, sat Mr. Selden Stimson, with an air of being entirely at home in such a place as that. He did not even feel compelled to be condescending to a man with whom he was talking. This man was shorter and thinner, but he was every ounce as dig nified as was Mr. Stimson himself. He, too, seemed to have a faculty for seeing the humorous side of things, and it showed itself now and then while he listened, with apparent interest, to t?e good things

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172 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. that were to be said on behalf of the Phantom Borer. He appeared to be particularly taken with the idea of annexing Governor's Island, Cuba, and Ireland to the city of New York. "I think, Mr. Senator," said the inventor at last, "that I shall soon be able to show you a working model. It is now in process of construction by the most remarkable mechanical genius in New York." "I'd really like to see it," said the Senator gravely and thoughtfully. "I thought nothing could beat the bores we already have in Washington. I like the idea. Putting mole holes everywhere, for us human moles to run about in. Such a convenience, they would be. Why, I know loads 0 people who ought never to show their noses above ground." Mr. Stimson elt that it was his duty to join heartily in the Senator's bit of laughter, but he colored a little, as he went on to -say something about the legislation to be obtained from Congress, before any holes could be bored under New York harbor. "I'm with you exclaimed the Senator. "Fetch on your big auger. But you'll never get the Army men to give up their hold on Governor's Island. They've had it too long. Ever since it was cleared

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 173 0 Indians. They and their forts couldn't hold it ari hour, though, i a British iron-clad got within shoot ing distance 0 it. It would be twice as well defended by a lot of warehouses, owned by Briti sh merchants, as the big new buildings are all over the lower part 0 the city. They'll never be cannonaded, unless they should be first sold to Yankees." Mr. Stimson succeeded in looking more humorous than ever, but he said he believed he could convince the Army people. Then they talked other kinds 0 politics or a while, and Mr. Stimson walked out of the house at the end 0 his visit remarking to himself: "I'm getting along finely. That makes half a dozen Senators I've gained over, besides Congress men. Now I mu s t see what I can do with the President and Cabinet. Stub will have to hurry up his model. I wonder i he is beginning to see his way through that difficulty. I can't say that I do, but he is a very ing e nious fellow." Chris was not, at that moment, trying to make Mr. Stimson's great invention or him. He was not thinking of boring holes that were to change the ace 0 the world by burrowing out another world under it. He was leaning on his crutch and study

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174 CHRIS, THE MODEL l\IAKER. ing a curious piece of red and white art work that he had uncovered, away in side of the manikin. It interested him deeply and he seemed to be making a kind of comparison. "It belongs right there," he said, pressing bis hand upon bis own side "And that belongs right there, near it. No-no-other people can find their hearts by the beating, but I can't. Where is my heart? I must have one." He must, indeed, for Lucille, m her oyvn room, had closed her book for a moment and was look. ing at her vi?lin at the place where he had mend e d it. "Chris is the kindest hearted she said. "He never thinks of himself. He is all the while doing something for others l it hadn't been for him I'd never have bad a violin. How can any body hurt his feelings Even Dr. Talcott seemed to be replying to a question put to him by one of his professional friends in a room of the surgical institution when he said: "Heart? Yes, I quite agree with you. I must speak to his friends about it. The effects you men tion are sometimes apt to develop rapidly. But I

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 175 believe a great deal can be done for him. Only think of how much he has done for himself and so little to do it with." "Nothing but brains," said his friend. ''Well, I don't know," said Dr. Talcott. "I think you will have to add courage, patience-more real grit and manhood than most of the boys I know are showing. He is a most extraordinary case of success under difficulties." Such a man as the doctor, then, considered that Chris had won a great success in making of himself so good a mechanic without even being able to find out whereabout inside of him his own heart might be stowed away. There are many kinds of success, and Philip was not making any of them that evening. He had not even succeeded in finding anything to amuse him self with, and so he bad drifted 1 around until he found that he was getting tired and that all his good spirits had been walked out of him. 1 any body had asked him what street he was now on, he would probably have had to look at the sign on the next corner street lamp, for he was looking at the sidewalk more than anything else. If he did not know where he was, however, somebody else did,

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176 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. and he suddenly elt a strong hand gnpmg his shoulder and heard : "Well, i I haven't got him You're the very chap I was ater. We've been hunting yo u all day." Phil could not have turned anything but his head, so firm was the grasp that held him; but his neck was ree, and he could get his eyes around ar enough to see that he had been seized by a brawny policeman. He knew him, too, or he had admired that cop the evening before. He had seen how bravely and skilf ull y he could ply a locust c1ub while he was charging a mob 0 riotous, hal drunken meri. Now, however, he was only too sure that it was no use to try to get away from such a guardian 0 the peace, and all he could think 0 was : "Hullo! What do you want 0 me?" You're wanted or a witness," replied the p,glice man, n o t at all roughly. "You saw the fight. You did first-rate, too, but you ought not to have run away. Now we'll see that you're on hand." "I did not see much 0 it," began Phil, and then he was orced to add : "Well, yes ; I did see some 0 it. But I can be found whenever they want me."

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 177 He was going on to give his name and residence, in the full belief that no more could be asked of him, but he knew little of the stern requirements of the New York courts of law, for his captor led him right along, while he was talking, gruffly informing him: It's for the captain to say, my boy. And then his Honor, Judge Grady. I've nothing to do but to take you to the station." "This is rough," muttered Phil. Well, I shall be late getting home, but there won't be any great harm in that." They had not far to go, for Phil had wandered into the very police precinct where the :fight had occurred. He thought he knew, now, one reason why Mr. Gerichten had so sharply ad vised him to hurry away, and had at once done so himself. It seemed to him, too, that there must have been plenty of other witnesses, and he was not aware that one was very much needed who had not had any thing to do with the disturbance except as a looker.on. They reached the station house, the head-quar ters 0 the police force in charge of all that region; Phil had seen it in the daytime, when it appeared

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178 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. to be a pretty quiet sort of place, but it was not so now. He was marched at once into a large room in the middle of it, and there, behind a long desk, sat the captain of the precinct, in full uniform and looking very warm indeed, i not a little excited. "Vv aller," he shouted to the officer in charge of Phil, "what have you got?" "It's that there boy," said Waller. The witness we wanted in those knife and pistol cases." "Lock him up--" began the captain. "He says he lives in Laurens Street--" Lock him up shouted the captain. "No time for anything now. Almost a riot in Baxter Street. The sergeant and almost every man out I'm tele graphed to come to see the commissioners at once." "Just look at those fellows!" exclaimed Phil. Guess there has been a muss There might easily have been a dozen musses to have half filled that room with such a battered, dis reputable assembly of older and younger ruffians. The police were having their hands more than full that night, and had no time for politeness to anybody. Telegraph his own precinct to find out about him," commanded the captain. "Lock him up, now,

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 179 we can't let go of him. Prime boy, too I won't hurt him." "Can't you send word to my mother?" earnestly inquired Philip. "They'll do that from your own precinct station," said Waller, at all unkindly. "This 'ere's the roughest night we've had in a long time Some things can't be helped." Phil thought they were not even trying to help him, but there was no use in protesting, although he did so, vigorously. All he could do was to obey orders, at a mome .nt when so many other fellows were breaking them, and trying, too, to break each other's bones. He was not even allowed to stay and see what was done with the battered crowd, but he knew that they were being locked up pretty rapidly. Their cases, like his, could not be looked into very carefully until the next morning. It was less than three minutes after he entered the station house, that Philip found himself in a narrow, close, brick walled cell, and heard the key turn in the inner door of it. He was a prisoner Oh, how his heart did swell with angry mortifica tion and with a bitter sense of the injustice of it all His thoughts ran fast, as he looked around him.

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180 cnms, THE MODEL MAKER There was a narrow window, with steel crossbars, but not much light would have come in by that way. A great deal more came from the hall into which the cell door opened, for there was a -wi.de grating in the door, so that any officer in the hall could look in at any' time and see how a prisoner might be get ting along. It helped, too, to ventilate the cell, and that was a good thing on so warm a night. There was a narrow, iron-framed pallet-bed and a chair by it, but there was not an inch of comfort to be seen anywhere. Phil saw the bed and chair, but at first be did not either sit down or lie down. He stood for a full minute, staring out through the grating in the door, unable to speak, for a swelling in bis throat, and because he could not :find words to say how indignant he was. Besides, the who1e affair was such a terribly sudden surprise. He was an American boy, living in a free country. He had not done anything to be punished for, and yet here he was, in jail, by order of a man in a blue uniform. "That isn't the worst of it burst from Phil, at last. It's really all because I took care of that man that was shot. No I aint sorry I helped him. I'd do it again. But if this isn't the meanest kind of thing What will mother say, when I don't get

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An innocent piisoner

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 181 home ? I do hope they'll send her word, and tell her I haven't done anything!" It was a pretty bitter experience, and Phil turned away from the door, to look out through the barred window. He could see the sky and the stars, :for the next building was not a very high one and bis cell was in the second story of the station house Somehow or other, it only made him feel worse to look at the sky and the stars. He could hardly make it seem real. Then he :found another thought creeping in among the rest and it belonged to a lot of other ideas which had troubled him. "If I'd been rich" he asked himself "and if I ' lived in one of those Fifth A venue houses, would the police have locked me up? You bet they wouldn't! Anyhow I don't belong to such a crowd as they had out there. Why, there wasn't an Amer ican among them He meant the right thing, for in his mind such men as Mr. Gerichten and all the industrious, orderly Germans, Irish, and other foreign-born people that he knew, were "Americans." So they were, and so were not the mob of l aw breakers who were giving the busy police so much trouble that night.

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182 CHRIS, THE :l\IODEL MAKER. He tired of the window and sat down, first on the chair and then on the bed, but he felt that he could not go to sleep. He did not even feel tired. It was getting late. Chris, in his own room, was still plying his pencil upon a drawing upon his table and all the clockwork in the garret cave was steadily wheeling its business, in its usual noiseless way, toward the right point for its noise to begin. "I guess that '11 do," said Chris. "It belongs to me, though, and not to Mr. Stimson. I'll fix him out, so that he can bore all the holes they'll bring him. They'd better bring most of 'em ready bored, though." Clang, went the little brass cymbals that. belonged to the music box, by way of a beginning. Out rang a loud clock alarm. But louder and sharper rang the gong on the table, for its wire had been strongly pulled from below. "Mother exclaimed Chris, What can be the matter with her? He hurried to the hatch and opened it, after sending down a gong-reply. Chris she called out, from the foot of the stairs. "Here it is twelve o'clock, and Phil isn't home! Something must happened."

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 183 "Is that said Chris thoughtfully. "There wasn't anything I know 0 to keep him out." He never was out so late before in all his life exclaimed Mrs. Huyler; I don't know what to make 0 it." No more did Chris, and he slowly made his way downstairs. 0 course he took a look into Phil's room, but everything there was just as usual. He'll come back," he said. If anything bad bad happened he'd have sent word home." That was what Philip bad tried to do. No doubt it was what the captain and policeman Waller bad intended doin g but no sooner had their young pri s oner been locked up than they had found their bands and minds more than full. The station was crowded. Perspiring officers came and went in bas te, and 0 them bad evidently received knocks as well as given them. In act, it was one 0 those hot summer nights when people whose homes are not homes, but o:r;ily close and uncom fortable barracks, do not seem to care to go indoors, so a vast number 0 tenement-house lodgers had been out in the streets all the evening and the con sequences bad been bad. The streets they lived in were not by means so good as even old Laurens 13

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184 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER Street, and not many of the people who belonged there were likely to get out and climb higher. 0 Philip!" groaned Mrs. Huyler. "What can have become of Of course he isn't hurt," said Chris. "l any one can take take of himself, Phil can." He was trying bis best to comfort her, but he was compelled to admit to himself that she had good reason for feeling anxious. "Tell you what I'll do," be said; "I'll go to our station house and have the police ask about him." Do, Chris Do she said. l you can't go, I will." You stay and wait for him at the house," said Chris; "he might come back while I'm gone." That sounded right, and so be took his crutch and set out on his errand. Poor Mrs. Huyler! There stood the piano wide open just as she had left it after an amount of evening practise which bad tired her hands more than a day's ironing. A small basket of fine laces sat upon one corner of it and a pile of cuffs and collars adorned the other. It was evidently a washerwoman's piano, but it could not express any sympathy concerning Philip. She

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t PHILIP LOCKED UP. 185 even went and sat down on the stool, but she turned her back to the piano itself and stared at the door through which Chris had depart ed Then she arose and wheeled around and shut down the top reso lutely. It was no time for music or for any musical instrument t<;> look as if it expected to be played upon. The window was the only place for her. As for Chris, be was well known to the officers of his precinct and they treated him very well. They could nut give him any information however. All they could do was to send out a telegraphic enquiry to every station house in the city, asking. if anything had been heard concerning a boy named Philip Huyler. Every answer came back" No," and it would not have been so if Philip had not been so hurriedly locked up, and if he had not been blunderingly put down upon the books of that precinct as Hiram Philips. Guess nothing's gone wrong with him," they said to Chris. "He'll turn up all right in the morn ing. Soon as we hear anything we'll let you kno.w." It required time to send questions and get answers, even by telegraph, and it was after one o'clock when Mrs. Huyler heard the sound of her crippled son's

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186 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. crutch upon the stairs. She had been first at one window and then at the other. She had looked at the clock again and again. She had straightened the chairs as if company were coming. She had picked up some of her laces and put them down again, for not one of them could tell her anything about Philip. She seemed to be listening, too, with all her might She had been getting excited all the while, and when Chris came in, with as cheerful a face as he could put on, and said : "No word yet, mother. He's all right. The police haven't heard anything--" She burst out crying and exclaimed : I wish they had, then. I want to know about him. Oh, what will Mr. Gerichten say ? He could do something, I know he could. But what can we tell him?'' "I'm going in to see him about it, anyhow," said Chris, "but I'll wait till day light. I don't believe it's any fault of Phil's." I won't go to bed again," exclaimed Mrs. Huyler. 0 Phil, Phil! What have you been doing? i I'm afraid some dreadful accident has happened. He hasn't done anything wrong, I know he hasn't." "Of course not," said Chris. "He's all right.

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t . PHILIP LOCKED UP. 187 Don't feel so, mother. Do go and lie down a while. He'll come back first thing in the morning. You see if be doesn't." He added some possible explanations, but she could not help seeing that not one of them was good for much. No, indeed," she said. "I can't bear to lie down." Chris himself seemed to feel like sitting up, for he found that she was determined to do so. He went and sat by a window, with his hand against his side, and waited, waited, for the dawn of the coming day, while Mrs. Huyler actually dropped to sleep in her rocking chair. Philip was also waiting for sunlight to come, but he was angry with himself when he nodded and felt that he was in danger of going to sleep. ''No, I won't,'' he said, as if he were addressing the police who bad imprisoned him; I won't go to bed or to sleep in this hole, nohow you can fix it." More than once he had almost wished that he had not known so much, but he took that back, for then he could not have helped the wounded man. "They didn't lock up Dr. Talcott," he remarked,

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188 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "but then he's a doctor. He's a grown up man,. too, and I'm only a boy. They think they can do as they please with boys." He :felt rebellious all over, and he had no idea how much he was learning, or how well this very peculiar lesson was fitting in with the other lessons be had been getting. It was making an older boy of him, and stirring him up tremendously. There was really an awful-an awful difference between the cell he was in and the magnificent chambers o:f the Fifth Avenue palace where he had mended pipe He thought of that again and again, and it made him remember stories he had read and heard of kings and princes, and other great and rich men, who had gone out of palaces into prisons "Prisons worse than this, too," he said to himself. "Away down deep and no light in 'em. I guess a fellow could dig through a brick wall like this, too, but he couldn't so well if 'twas thick stone." It was curious after that thought came how a kind of romance seemed to follow it, and bow Philip felt less and less like a mere boy, and more and more like a fellow who was beginning to see somei thing of the world he lived in. Perhaps the time went by faster after be found how much there

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 189 might be to think of in a cell, but at last he sud denly stopped thinking, and said, turning toward the window : "Hullo! What's that? Hurrah It must be the sun is rising That meant a very early hour, indeed, at mid summer, but at that very moment Chris was puiling at the door-bell of the Gerichten house. He had to wait only a few seconds before a gray head came out at an upper window, and a hoarse question was asked in a language Chris could not understand. He had startled the boss a little, and Mr. Gerichten had asked in the first tongue that came bandy before he repeated it in English : "Who's there ? What do you want ? A quick ex:planation followed, and then lre talked German and something else to himself before he replied to Chris : "Philip is not absent or nothing. I am his boss. I am responsible or him. I will dress myself and come down." He had spoken pretty loudly, and by the time he was ready Lucille herself was down in the room below, eager to lean out 0 the window and ask questions of Chris. So, it seemed, were some 0 the

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190 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. neighbors, for there were heads in other windows, and in a minute more Mrs. Huyler was standing on the sidewalk, helping Chris to answer and tell all that neither he nor she knew as to what bad become of Philip. The fact is that almost everybody is really glad to have something happen, so long as nobody is known to be hurt, and you are only waiting to know what it is. There is a kind of excitement in expecting something, but Lucille went dow.n and let Mrs Huyler and Chris into the house, and then the beads at the other windows could only talk at each other a little and be pulled in again. At all events that part of Laurens Street had been waked up good and early, and the day before it would be so much the longer. It was Saturday, however, and that is always cut off at the afternoon end of it. Mrs. Huyler was a great deal calmer, now she had somebody besides Chris to tell how badly she felt about Phil. It is true that her hands gathered up her apron and that she rung it, dry as it was, very much as if she had just taken it out of a tub; but she was really a sensible woman, and agreed with the rest that she had better remain there until breakfast time. Sara Vladovna would soon be in i

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PHILIP LOCKED UP. 191 to get breakfast for them all, and in the meantime Mr. Gerichten could go out and see the police again. It could not be that a boy like Philip bad merely lost himself in his own city, and it was time that he should be found by somebody and brought home again dead or alive. 'As for the boss, he said little enough, but put on his hat and stalked away.

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CHAPTER XII. TRAINING FOR W .AR. llH ILIP had been aware that the corridor in front of his cell bad been patrolled again and again during the night, and .that pris oners more or less noisy bad been put into the other cells in that row and the row opposite, but be had paid very little attention. He had been too busy with his own feelings and his own prospects What these latter might be he had only a very dim idea at first, but it began to brighten a little as the sun rose higher and more day light poured in. "I've beard of the House of Detention," he said, "where they keep witnesses to. make sure of them, but there isn't any need for their sending me there. I don't want to get away. I'd as lief as not tell everything I know about the shooting." ; So he felt and so he hoped, but the minutes that passed seemed to be growing dreadfully longer, when he was aware of a face at the grating in the door and was bailed with : 192

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t . TRAINING FOR WAR. 193 "Hullo, chappie, are you up?" Phil saw not only the face but the front of a policeman's felt and he stepped right forward with a great jump at his heart as he ex claimed: "Did they send any word to mother? Did they tell her I'm here and what or? "I don't know what you're here or," half laughed the officer. "Guess your mother knows you're out. "\Vhat have you been up to?" "They only took me for a wit ness," gulped Philip resentfully. "They ought to have let her know. They said they would." "Hullo! You don't say I'll go and see about that," responded the officer turning quickly away, while Philip shouted after him his name and street and the number 0 his hom;e. What took place next Philip did not know, or he was not out there to hear and see. The captain was not there when Phil's new friend walked into the main office to report his case, but the sergeant behind the de s k was reading a telegram while the officer was speaking. "Philip Huyler, Laurens Street," he quickly responded. "Why, here's the Eighth Precinct tele-

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194 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. graphing to find out where he is. Three other telegrams before this. Who's been blundering?" "I don't know," said the officer. "Who is it wants him? Is it his mother?" "Name's Gerstaver or something" said the ser-' geant. "I'll wire 'em back to send Mr. Gerster after him. He may be a responsible man. That's all we want, but we won't lose bold of him." A telegram went and an answer came which was reported by the overworked and sleepy operator as: "Mr. Garston will come right away." Not many minutes later Mr. Gerich ten shouted in through the open window of his own house : "Philip is lock up in the Sixth Precinct police station I go for him. I bring him back with me. You wait." After that, all that remained to be done was attended to rapidly. When the boss reached the Sixth Precinct station, and it was not far to go, be found his young friend waiting in the main room. Philip tried hard to appear entirely composed, and he said: "Good-morning, Mr. Gerichten," very well. He was not quite ready to ask questions about the Laurens Street people, however. All his employer said back to him was a grim, r

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t . '!'RAINING FOR WAR. 195 white-mustached smile and a nod, or the old model maker was angry. He told the sergeant so, and he told him why plainly enougb, while he was making his statements concerning Philip. "All right, Mr. Gerichten," said tbe sergeant, not seeming to be at all disturbed. "We know you. We know all about the boy now. Fine young fellow. Didn't we have a rough nigbt, though Bad lot Just the time or mistakes like this to happen. You take our job on your hands and see how you'll come out with it." "I suppose that is so," replied Mr. Gerichten, looking at the officer with more good will in his face. "I suppose I could not mend those men." "Not without them first ," laughed the sergeant. "I guess one night in quod 'Won't hurt the youngster. Teach him not to want to get there again. He'll be a good witness, though." "He will tell the truth," said Mr. Gerichten con fidently, and then he and Philip walked out together. It was curious how strong was Philip's feeling that he had something to be proud 0. 0 course it was all very new and strange and had been very disagreeable, but the bad part 0 it was over and he

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196 CHIUS, THE MODEL MAKER. would reach home again in time for breakfast. That was a thing he could not help thinking of, for his appetite was really fine. He thought how glad his mother would be, for Mr. Gerichten told him that she and Chris bad been up all night, but his next thought set him up a little, for it came to him that be was about the only boy in Laurens Street who had precisely such a yarn to tell to any other boy. Not one that he knew had been locked up as a wit ness in a knife and pistol a real bloody :fight. "You didn't like it, eh?" remarked Mr. Gerichten, as they marched along. Well, no more did I like it. I was lock up a long time in one of those old dungeons. I eat only black bread and water and now and then some beans, some hard salt beef. They wafi to shoot me. I knew that. Then I heard cannon, long time, but they was to shoot me one day, and in the night the bole was knock through their lines and our Hungarian boys came in over their dead bodies. I was free "And some of them were shot instead of you burst admiringly from Philip. "We will not speak of that," growled Mr. Gerich ten. Some condemned men like me were led out and murdered just before the breach was made and

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; ; TRAINING FOR W .A.R. 197 the fort was ready to be storm. We did not keep account exactly that time, but they was all pay for. Now you know a little about" prison. I was in a king's prison. Those police did not mean, any harm. They do duty:" Philip was almost willing to speak approvingly of the police, but Mr. Gerichten was in an unusual state of mind and he said several other things. Philip did not know a great deal about Europe or about history, but he could understand that some where about the year 1848, and afterward, there bad been a great deal 0 revolution in the old world and that Mr. Gerichten had been in it. He seemed to have been in one army after another, indifferent as to its nationality, so only it was :fighting against a kingly government, and when he said so, Mr. Gerich ten responded : "Oh, yes! What did I care? I was in Italy once, with Garibaldi." On the whole, Philip's prison adventure was wind ing up very well, but he could not have guessed how he was waited or, after the news came through the window that he was in the hands 0 the police. His mother's first exclamation was : 0 Philip Philip What did you do it or?"

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198 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "Why, Mrs. Huyler," said Lucille, m apparent astonishment. He didn't do a thing What could he have done? "Guess didn't," said Chris, as hopefully as usual "He's all right. We won't have to wait long." "What could he be arrested for!" sobbed Mrs. Huyler, rubbing her apron as if it bad been a wash board. "Oh, dear! The police thought he was some body else. Poor Philip! How be must have felt! They may have clubbed him, too. They use their clubs awfully." "Not on boys like Phil," said Chris, but even on his face there was a shadow of anxiety. As for Sara Vladovna, she was making an extra ordinary rattle in the kitchen, as if she were getting breakfast unde1; difficulties. Whatever that wonder ful stove bad been doing or refusing to do, it had to take a pretty steady stream of what sounded like Polish scolding, and some of it was very energetic. There they come exclaimed Lucille at last, from the window where she was watching, and Mrs. Huyler instantly stopped crying and put down the cuffs and co1lars she had been so desperately counting. "Philip!" she almost shouted. "Oh l"

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1 TRAINING FOR WAR. 199 She did not succeed in saying another word until he came upstairs and she held him in her arms while Mr. Gerichten calmly explained the matter. Oh, I know be didn't do it said Mrs. Huyler then, and Lucille added: "Why, we all know he didn't; but, Philip, wasn't it awul "'Twasn't so very bad," replied Philip, but even while Sara was hurrying in the coffee and things, she had to stop and listen to his account of bis long night behind iron bars. Everything bad to be finished in time for shop wol,'k, however, and Philip was really glad of it. His bead was very foll, indeed, and be was aware of a queer idea that he was becoming another boy, different froi;n the boy he had been, with all this palace and prison business pouring in upon him. He elt very grateful to Mr. Gerichten for his share in the matter, but he could not have imagined what a change there had been in the relations between himself and his boss. So far as these were con cerned, it might be said that the youngest person in the Gerichten shop had suddenly become almost old enough to be bowed to, when ordered to bring in another pail of charcoal. 14

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200 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "Lucille," said Mrs. Huyler, just as she was going out ater breakfast: '' do come and practise this forenoon. I eel so much better when I can hear you. It is all so strange, too, about Philip. Oh, I'm so glad your ather got him out Chris did not go back to his cave at once, or there were things in the shop that called or his immediate' attention. It may be, too, that he preferred being there, in case there should be any more blue coated enquirers ater his brother. None came, and Phil could have said that he never beore did so much work in one Saturday. He
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t TRAINING FOR WAR. 201 Huyler at her tub. She turned and listened for a moment, and then remarked with a sigh : She's gone I suppose she's tired. She's prac tised long enough for so warm a day, but it was real good to hear her." She had indeed worked at her laces as if some thing were helping, or at least stimulating her. Even her two assistants had done better than usual, excepting for an occasional pause to make remarks about police and station houses and Philip's remarkable escape from being sent up." Lucille had wearied of the piano, but she had not gone through the shop on her way to her own room. Contrary to her usual custom, she had entered through the front door and she explained it, per haps to the plants and the canary, by remarking: "I don't eel like seeing anyone. What a queer world! Philip was shut up for nothing at all. The street's going to pieces and we've got to go, too. I wish I knew where, but father never tells me any thing. I'm big enough now to know some things. How dreadful it must feel to be in prison I'm going to make Philip tell me all about it. His mother didn't sleep a wink all night. Neither did Chris. I'm glad father got Philip out, but I do

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202 CHRIS, THE MODEL MA.KER. believe he thinks more 0 him or having been in prison. I'd go a mile out 0 my way before I'd see a street fight Violin practise seemed to do her good ater that, with an occasional rest, but it was noticeable that not one 0 the people who had sat up or Philip, or had risen early on his account, showed any signs 0 atigue. Even Chris was as bright as usual and his mother was really brighter. Noon came and went in a sort 0 routine that nobody cared to disturb. The afternoon was really dull, and Philip may have been beginning to look forward or the coming 0 the five o'clock whistle, but another matter arrived an hour earlier and almost upset him. It was precisely four when Mr. Gerichten leaned over him and said impressively: "Soon as work is done you come upstairs. Go not home. I have to say a good deal to you." That was all, but it was extraordinary. There was even a kind of mystery in it, as i Philip were just on the eve 0 having one more 0 his new experiences, and there was already a string of them. He only said, "Yes, sir," without presuming to ask i any questions ; but Chris, too, had heard, and his pencil paused for a moment, while his face showed

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TRAINING ]'OR W .A.R. 203 that he might be wondering what was the matter t with Mr. Gerichten. He might better have been considering what was just then the matter with his ingenious friend and patron, Mr. Selden Stimson, for whom he was inventing the ''poser" part 0 the Phantom Borer. Everybody has seen pictures 0 the White House at Washington, the residence 0 the President 0 the United States. There are very pretty and well kept grounds, ornamented with shrubbery and flowers, south 0 the house toward the Potomac river. They }ooked very pretty indeed that Saturday afternoon. The red-uniformed band 0 the Marine Corps was making capital music on a stand in the middle, with an awning to help the shade 0 the surrounding trees. The winding walks in every direction were dotted with groups 0 people, men and women and children, who bad come to stroll around the grounds and hear the music. Up near the house, however, and it was looking very white in the brilliant sun shine, there was a group 0 gentlemen who may have kept away off there so that the music might not interfere with their conversation. Two, an older and a younger man, were in army uniform. The former wore no straps on his shoulders and

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204 THE MODEL MAKER. his blue coat was a little worn, if not almost shabby, but the latter was decidely spruce and wore the double-barred straps of a captain of artillery. The third man was the inventor, and he never looked anything but spruce. Jus t now he was doing the talking, and he said, "General," three times as often as he said "Captain," although he was exceedingly polite to the artillery officer. The general was a short, broad-shouldered man, with an iron :firm face that was in of a razor, and he stood and listened with his ha. nds in his pockets. He did not look at all like a man who could joke, especially upon so serious a subject as that which Mr. Stimson was explaining, and so he must have been in sober earnest when he twisted his short mustache by a quick pucker 0 his mouth and replied: "I agree with you, Mr. Stimson. It's the most original thing I've heard in a long time. Good idea. Even if the army keeps Governor's Island it's a good idea. If all those holes under water were bored, and ii the British should come, the ganisons of the forts could get away without surrendering. i Go off like so many rats. We needn't lose a man Go right ahead, I'm with you. Put in all your

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FOR WAR. 205 auger hole streets. Then, if the city should be at any time bombarded, the population could get J.own there, in your cellar city, and be safe. They could leav e all the Englishmen in the city upstairs to be shelled at. The sooner it's done the better. l1ve often thought of what would be the quickest way to get an American army out of New York if a decent European fleet should Sftil in anywhere near it." He did not look like a man who was in the habit of running away, and he did not smile. On the contrary, he looked glum and serious, while the artillery captain and the inventor deemed it their duty to laugh heartily. "All right, General," said Mr. Stimson merrily. "I am very much obliged to you. "\Ve shall be glad to have your good word, when the time comes." "You shall have it, sir; you shall have it," said the general with emphasis. "I'd favor anything that proposed to do away with the Atlantic Ocean without the cost and trouble of filling it in." He was moving awRy, when he said that, and Mr. Stimson did not go with him. He only smiled and shook hands with the captain, and bowed repeat edly. Then be put on his hat, after mopping his bald bead, and turned to listen to the Marine Band

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206 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. for a moment. At least he seemed to be listening to them, but it may be he was still hearing part of what the general had said to him, for he walked away remarking: "They all see that there's a great deal in it. I don't care how much fun they make now Of course, nobody can see how great a thing it is until I can show a working model. A great deal depends on Stub. He's a wonderful little fellow. Ha, ha, ha!" for the recollection he had of always seemed to stir up the humorous side of his nature and he could not help laughing at" Stub." There is only one hour between four o'clock and five, and it got away at last. Everybody was ready, but perhaps Philip was even more than usually ready to pull off his leather apron, wash his hands, and feel sure that he had reached the short end of bis Saturday. By the time he had done so, Mr. Gerichten was already upstairs. He was in the room over the shop and he had opened an extra large packing trunk which lay in one of the corners. All things were going on quietly upon the floor above that, for not even the canary was practising. He had finished his Saturday afternoon bath with much :fluttering and spattering, and stood upon his

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t . TRAINING FOR WAN. 207 swing perch, rocking back and forth gently, while he watched Lucille, as i he wondered what could make her sit there, so absolutely motionless. He knew nothing whatever about books, and he could not have guessed how deeply interesting a place she had reached in the long and tangled plot 0 that old eastern border novel. H he could have known how it was with the beautiul heroine in such danger, and the hero defending a narrow mountain pass almost alone, while she rode away to a place 0 safety! Lucille was already well acquainted with them and with their friends and enemies, and knew a great deal more than she had known when she picked up that book. It had been serving her as a kind 0 window, through which she could see peo p1e whom she had never seen before. Or else it was a picture gallery, with pictures that followed one another like days in a lie, a lie that was ull 0 chivalry and daring, 0 devotion and sel-sacri.fice. Lucille read on, hal breathlessly, and she was almost anywhere but in Laurens Street, so far as her thoughts were concerned, when she began to hear something that sounded as if it might have come right out of the book. It was a clashing sound, like steel ringing and grinding against steel; like the

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208 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. clash of swords, it might be ; and she sprang up and went to the head of the stairs. She heard it louder there, and she hurried halfway down, to where she cou1d peer into the 1ower room. The tab1e and chairs had been shoved into a corner, leaving more space empty than might have been expected, and her first excited exclamation was an explanation of what was going on. "Oh," she exclaimed, "is that it?. -How could he have thought of it? Father is teaching Philip how to fence How strong Phil i s Father's a splendid swordsman

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t CHAPTER XIII. THE FENCING LESSON. DRE things which Mr. Gerichten had taken out of the old packing trunk looked as if they had been there a long time, but they were in good condition. The two springy looking fencing foils were not rusty, and the wire masks and the pads and the gloves were all right. "He will be a good fencer," muttered the old man. "He is worth the trouble. Some boy is not fit to carry a sword." He had evidently formed a different idea of bis tough sinewed shop-boy, for Phil was hardly in the room before he was astonished by hearing: "Look at them, Philip! I must teach .you how to use the sword." If it had suddenly begun to rain in that room, Philip could hardly have been more completely taken by surpr ise, but his fingers tingled and the tingle went up his arm to the elbow when he picked up one of the foils by the hilt. 209

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210 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "Fence?" he said. "Ob, Mr. Gerich ten!" "Every American boy should know to be a soldier," said Mr. Gerichten sternly, as he bent the other foil back and forth and looked into Philip's eyes. "The man who is not a soldier is not a man." "I can't ever be a soldier," said Philip. ""'Why, Mr. Gerichten, there isn't any army and there isn't any war. I just would like to fence, then they all use guns.'' "So said Mr. Gerich ten. "The rifle is the weapon. I know that. You will learn the rifle some day. Very well, I tell you one thing. I teach you to fence with this. Then I teach you the sabre. The man who knows the knows a great dea1, even if he never use it. He is more a man. Come Tingle-tingle-tingle! bow Phil's whole body felt it, a'd bow his cheeks did glow, as be put on the rest of his fencing rig and listened to the first instructions of bis teacher He noticed, too, a remarkable change in old Mr. Gerichten. He always walked erectly, but it may have cost him an effort to do so, and he often went about the shop a good deal bent over and his movements were slow i

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Th e first fencing lesson.

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! THE FENCING LESSON. 211 and rusty. No doubt his age was telling on him, and his old campaigns, but now he seemed to be years and years younger, and he stepped around lightly and limberly, except that his left leg was not so good as the right. It moved as if it were lifted, and as if the other leg had to take care of it. "Now, stand there be commanded, as he began to explain the fencing lessons. "Oh, you will be a fencer! You have the nerve and the eye and the muscle!" Philip bad never before felt so good in all his life, and he could not know how well be was look ing as he crossed foils with the white mustached old soldier. Rasp-rasp-ring-clink! oh, what music the foils made! "You will make a soldier!" exclaimed Mr. Ge rich ten with enthusiasm. "I can see it in your eye. It is worth while to teach you. So! Sah There Your parade is good! You hold it well! So The y paused a moment, and they were not aware p f Lucille watching them from the stairway. "Mr. Gerichten," said Philip, "when you was a wasn't you once, in your left leg 1" "How do you know laughed Mr. Gerich

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212 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. ten, with a queer kind of :fierce-sounding merriment "I never tell anybody. It is a good leg. It was the best leg they could make, and Chris improved it. He could have a patent for that improvement if it was worth while. See? How easy it move?" "You don't mean it's an artificial leg?" almost shouted Philip. "So!" said Mr. Gerich ten. "I lose tpe old leg I began with, when I led the cavalry charge at-" Phil could not catch the long, rough name of that battle-" near Buda-Pesth, in Hungary. vVe went right through them. They were the Croats that we charge. They were under the Ban J ellachich. How we hated that man How we broke them His eyes were :flashing fire as he talked of that ol<.l battle and of how be and his cavalry dashed through the serried lines of the Emperor of Austria's army. Phil thought be was handsome, splendid, and so did Lucille, as she sat on .the stairs and lis tened and felt her cheeks burn hotly and her heart beat as even the novel bad not made it beat. It was all new to Philip, for he had been only a Laurens Street boy, and this story and the swords and the idea of soldiership seemed to belong almost to another world.

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THE FENCING LESSON. 213 "There won't be any such fighting in America," he said doubtfully. So said Mr. Gerichten. "There has been a great deal of :fighting in America. I hope for no more. But there may be. I tell you if the Ameri can boys be cowards, and feel not like soldiers, and stand not for their rights, then there will be danger of war in America. But if they know the sword and the rifle, and are ready all the time, then no war can come. Now One more lesson Perhaps the lesson would have been longer but for the noise made by Sara Vladovna in coming in to see about supper. She made more noise than usual, because she was bringing somebody with her and was answering questions. Down came the foils, off came the fencing gloves and the other things, and Phil was hurriedly putting on his coat when Sara walked into the room, followed closely by Dr. Talcott. "I was teaching Philip to fence,'' said Mr. Gerich ten with his politest bow. "He must learn--" "I don't care how much he learns," exclaimed the doctor, "but he mustn't be put in jail again. I went to see about those cases-'-got to be a witn ess-and I heard how they served him."

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214 CHRIS, THE l\IODEL MAKER. It had made him very indignant, and he had blown up the police roundly, but it had also given him yet another reason for taking an interest in Philip. "H; e was my assistant surgeon," said the doctor humorously, "and it is against the law to lock him up. Where is Chris? Has he gone home?" Guess you'll find him there," said Phil. I can't say how your job's getting on." "I'll go then," said the doctor, "but this fencing is a queer idea." He will be a good swordsman," said Mr. Gerich ten. "The sabre is next." Teach him Teach him exclaimed the doctor, with unexpected decisiveness. "He is worth teach ing. Fencing is the best kind 0 exercise." He will not then be clumsy," said Mr. Gerich ten. "No swordsman is clumsy." "And he must keep out 0 jail," replied the doctor. Philip was keeping him company as he walked to the door, and in a moment more they were in the street. "Stop right here," said the doctor, V and tell me all about your brother. That's what I came for. I don't want to see him just now ; and then

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THE FENCING LES$0N. 215 followed a long string 0 questions, such as only a surgeon could ask. The doctor himself said that nobody could have answered them to suit him wi.t;hout first learning what Philip had learned about the wonderful mechanism that every man carries inside of him. "Can you cure him, doctor ? said Philip at last, with painful earnestness. "I won't say what I can do,'' replied the doctor . Don't tell him that I spoke to you about it. I }llay come in again, by and by. It's one of the most interesting cases I ever had Off he went, and Philip walked slowly home, but all the while they were talking about him, and long before that, Chris had been away up in his. cave workshop, whistling in a thoughtful way while he studied some pieces of the manikin that he had taken out and was placing and replacing. They belonged to the part that had been injured in the tumble down, and they would not fix together exactly. It was to be his business to repair them and make them fit, as a kind of manikin surgeon, ilust. as Dr. Talcott was in the habit of doing for flesh and blood people .. Chris may have been think ing of that when he said to the manikin : 15

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216 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. I guess I couldn't sit as still as you do if any fellow was unscrewing me in this way. I'd have to squirm." Supper was ready by six o'clock, a little earlier than usual, but the three people who sat down to it did not seem to have anything in particular to say. Probably it was because they each had so many things to think of. As for Philip, he was sure he was there and that was about all he could have said for himself. It seemed an awfully long week to look back on, so much had been crowded into it, including the station house and the fencing lesson, and now, right at the Saturday end of it, was another tremendous thought, for a terrible question came with it, brought by Dr. Talcott: "What, if anything, is going to happen Chris? Are the doctors really going to try anything? Will they hurt him?" Just at that point, and while he was trying not to look so hard at his brother, Chris seemed to think he had been silent long enough and enquired, in very much his usual chirrupy way: "Mother, you know what they're going to do with Laurens Street ; did you know they were going to begin next Monday 1

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I THE FENCING LESSON. 217 "Oh, dear exclaimed Mrs. Huyler, I heard they were going to cut it out wider, and I've seen those engineer men going around. What shall we do! It'll spoil the house. It'll spoil the whole street." Philip forgot everything else. He was like his mother in that matter. He had heard about it many a time, but it had been one of those things that are going to come but which never get here, and which nobody really expects. That is, not until they actually come. Why, Chris," he exclaimed, "are they really going to? They haven't any right to pull up Laurens Street." "Yes, they have," said Chris. "It's all got to go. Street, houses, and all. There won't be anything left of it in a few weeks from now." Philip felt rebellious. He bad lived there ever since he could remember. He knew that his mother owned the house, and Chris bad helped her pay for it. To be sure it wasn't much of a house and all but the garret part was dreadfully old, but how could anybody have a right to come and tear it down, forcing the people who owned it and lived in it to move away somewhere else?

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218 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. That was not precisely the way the same subject was being discussed by Lucille and her father at their table. Mr. Gerichten was a man who kept all his business affairs to himself, and even now he only told Lucille : "They will begin to tear up the street, but we shall not move now. I'll find another house before they get here. It is break up my business. It is to make me poor. It is tyranny. And yet this is America! It is a free country!" "Oh, father!" exclaimed Lucille, "are we really to be driven out of Laurens Street? Where shall we go?" That is not it," saicl her father. They take out the street itself. They take it right out from under us and pull down all our houses. No man really owns anything in all this world." There he paused and Lucille herself could not think of anything to say. The truth was that she did not wish to say anything, for her father's feel ings were evidently not at all like her own. He seemed to be rebelling angrily against any power whatever, which could take away his house whether he would or not. She, on the other hand, was conscious of a great

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. THE FENCING LESSON. 219 glow, a kind of exhilaration, that at least told how little love she had for Laurens Street. Something new was commg. It seemed as if she had been told of a trip to another country, she could not at once imagine what or where, but she did not know that Philip, in the other house, was actually laughing aloud as he heard Chris explaining the matter to his mother. "The washing can be done anywhere," she said, "and we can move the piano easy, but what can we do about the shop ? She was not thinking of Mr. Gerichten's base ment, but of the wonderful collection of things in the garret, with all the wires and bells. Why, mother," said Chris, we can move 'em. Set 'em up again anywhere. We won't have to do it right away though. Plenty of time." So they all talked and thought about it, or Mr. Gerichten thought, and the rest did the talking, for Lucille learned a great deal from Sara Vladovna after supper. So did Philip from what he heard from Chris and Dr. Talcott, when an hour or so later the doctor arrived and went up into the garret for a look at the precious manikin. That was what he said he came

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220 CHRIS, 'l'HE MODEL MAKER. for, and no doubt he told the truth, but Philip was pretty sure he was al o studying the inside and out . side of something else, and that he narrowly watched every movement of the defective bodily machinery which carried Chris around the room. Several times, too, the doctor smiled intelligently, as if he were beginning to understand something, and then he immediately looked so serious and thoughtnl that Philip's heart beat. Could there be any danger ahead for Chris ? Could he not work right along, all there was of him, just as he had always worked, and be just as happy as he always had been? So the week seemed to come to an end, for the doctor went away, and then Philip came downstairs, leaving Chris among his queer collection of old things and new things, just as he was in the habit of leaving him. Mrs. Huyler was working hard at the piano when Philip went through the room, and she only said to him: I must practise all I can before they come to pull the house down." He did not feel either like interrupting her or like staying to hear the music, but when he reached

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THE FENCING LESSON. 221 the street and turned toward the Gerichten shop, there stood Lucille on the stoop looking up and down the street. "0 Philip," she said, "it's all going to be pulled up, the whole of it. Every house, and we're all going uptown." Aint you glad of it ? exclaimed Philip. There's to be a brand new street, as wide as Broadway, and they'll put up new buildings. But it '11 cost a heap of money. We'll all have to go somewhere else," and he added to himself: "But what would we do without Chris?"

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CHAPTER XIV. CHRIS IS A HERO. DHE next day was Sunday and it was a warm one. The Huyler family went to church, of course, but Philip must have been -thinking of something besides the sermon, 011. the way home. They were walking into Laurens Street, and the first thing that caught his eye was the key sign in front of the Gerichten shop . "Oh, but don't I hate it he thought, and he did not mean the key, but the shop it stood for, and the idea of working in it, or in another like it, all his life. "It's just the thing for Chris," he said to himself. "He's as happy as a lark among his models, but it isn't the place for me. I wish I needn't ever file any more brass or etch any more charcoal!" Somehow or other that Sunday got away slowly, almost dreamily, and a new week of work began, and it seemed, at first, as if everything had been plann ed out beforehand, so that there was almost no chance at all for anything to happen. Nothing did happen, for 222 ':.

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CHRIS IS A HERO. 223 there was no accident at all in the prettylong visit to Chris that Dr. Talcott made on Monday. Then he talked with Mr. Gerichten and then with Mrs. Huyler and Philip, and after that, there was a great shadow, all the way up and down the street, and in their houses, so far as they were concerned. They could not exactly see it, but they could :feel it, in spite of the fact that Chris himself was as bright and cheerful as ever. Lucille practised on Mrs. Huyler's piano that forenoon, but when she went home again she did not touch the violin. She seemed to prefer reading and she took her book downstairs, to a front window, where she could now and then look out and see what was going on. Two or three times she shut up her book and said : Poor Chris and once she added : I hope it won't hurt him! Oh, yes, I suppose it's got to hurt him! But I can't bear to think of him having any more pain." The first thing Mrs. Huyler did work was done in the laundry, was to upstairs and shut down the piano, as if she did not want any music or as if it was not the right kind of day for it. Chris, up in the garret cave, tinkered away at the

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224 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. manikin or a while, and then went to work upon some drawings and upon a curious lot of model work, of which he remarked: I guess I'll get back and finish it. I hope so, for if I didn't nobody else would know what to do with it." If it was some invention 0 his own, that might account or bis seeming to be so much in love with it and hating to go away and leave it half done. Philip came upstairs while that was going on, and stood still and stared at it, and then at Chris, and went down again without saying anything in par ticular. It would all have been a kind 0 mystery, if there had not been any explanation, but one was coming. It came on Tuesday morning, when Chris and Phil, side by side, walked away toward the surgical insti tution, and old Mr. Gerichten and Mrs. Huyler followed them at a little distance. It had been said that Lucille was not to go with them, and she did not, for when they got they found her waiting for them in the general reception room. "You may stay," said her father. "I shall not go away. I must be here with Mrs. Huyler." Grim, stern, and exceedingly polite was the old

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CHRIS IS A. HERO. 225 model maker, that morning. He was doing his duty as a gentlemen. Whenever Philip looked at him, however, he thought of him only as an old soldier. Lucille hardly looked at him at all, for she seemed inclined almost to hug Mrs. Huyler, and that good woman evidently felt better with one arm around Lucille. Of course Dr. Talcott was there, but he was an altogether heartless man of science, for he stood in a door that led out of that room and spoke to them and beckoned to Chris. The dwarf cripple had not everi. seated himself, and his rosy face was bright and smiling, with no shadow at all, but with something so brave, so utterly courageous, in its expression that Philip eaught himself thinking : "I don't believe old Gerichten was as brave as he is. I aint. Nobody is!" Chris nodded at Dr. Talcott and then he seemed to hesitate for a moment. Only for a moment, for then he turned and lifted his face to Mrs. Huyler's and said: "Kiss me, mother!" She did, and it was very brave of her, too, to just kiss him and say nothing. Even Lucille felt that

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226 CHRIS, TIIE MODEL MAKER. it was her duty to be very calm, but her arms went around Chris in a second and she did whisper, as she kissed him: I shall stay right here, Chris. It won't--'' But the rest 0 it was not said, and Chris turned to Philip, but now it was not his brother but old Mr. Gericbten bimse1. He looked almost grand, as be bent, in such a stately way, until his white mus taches were pressed upon the forehead 0 his crip pled workman. God bless you, my boy," be said. "I love you much. You will be brave! Go!" He did, but with Philip at his side, to the very door, and neither 0 them said a word, but the moment Chris was gone, Phil came back and sat down by his mother, on the other side from Lucille, and his ace vrns dreadfully white. He hardly knew he had put an arm around her until slrn whispered : "Not so hard, Philip, you hurt me. 0 Chris! 'Twon't be long, they said." They bad said so, and Dr. Talcott said RO again, as he and Chris walked on together into what they both knew was "the operating room," the place 0 suffering and 0 danger. There were several very intelligent and kindly looking gentlemen present.

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CHRIS IS A HERO. 227 They were all surgical men, skilful fellow-workmen of Dr. Talcott, and Chris greeted them as if they were his particular friends. Everything was ready, but precisely what took place, the people out in the general reception room could not know at all. "Oh, it's so long!" sobbed Lucille at last. "It seems like forever," groaned Mrs. Huyler. "Philip," said Mr. Gerichten, staring at the face of his watch, which he had not ceased to hold in bis band, "be has been in there twenty.five minutes. They are too slow Just then the door opened and there stood Dr. Talcott again. They all arose at once, but Mrs. Huyler sprang forward and put her bands upon hil shoulders. The tears were pouring from her eyes as she looked into his face, but she could not utter a sound "Thank God, my dear woman," he said very kindly and calmly. "We believe it is a complete success." Can I see him ? sbe exclaimed, in a voice that would have been a scream if she bad not held it in. "Not for a day or so," replied the doctor. "He must not move nor speak. He must be quiet. I

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2)38 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. will come for you as soon as it is safe for you to see him. He is all right, Philip." Phil felt so very nearly choked to death that he did not try to speak. He heard a long-breathed '' Ha-ah-h" sound close by him, but just then the doctor added : "Mr. Gerichten, he is a hero. We gave no ether, nor chloroform. It was not safe. But he did not flinch a hair." "Oh, father!" exclaimed Lucille. "Isn't Chris splendid He is a hero "So he is," responded the old model maker, in his very deepest voice, and he was wiping his face with his handkerchief, it was so very warm. Lucille was crying vigorously, and it \Yas almost a relief that there were so many other people, patients of all sorts, in that reception room. Some of them had been there all the while and others had come in later, but Philip was positive that it was now the very first time that he had noticed one of them. Will it be long in healing ? asked Mr. Gerich ten, and perhaps he was thinking of the unfi nished jobs in the shop. No, sir," replied the doctor hopefully. We

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CHRIS IS A HERO. 229 must send him back to that manikin as soon as we can. We think he will be a better workman than ever, but we did not get at him any too soon. He needed mending more than that did. I will send for you." "Come, mother," said Philip. "Yes, Mrs. Huyler, do come! "urged Lucille, but Mr. Gerichten was at her side the moment the doctor disappeared. I will take her home," he said. We may hope the best. Chris is a hero." No doubt he had behaved heroically, hut in one of the inner rooms, a small, clean looking room, of that institution, there was a narrow, low bed cov ered only with a sheet. All was so white-so white-and on the pillow rested a curly head, with a face from which the rosy freshness had departed, but if Chris was suffering pain he was not saying so. There were twinges of his lips now and then, and once he whispered : Poor mother Poor Philip Lucille will be sorry, too." "Don't say that," said a low voice, that at once drew nearer. "You will soon get well. You are weak now. You will soon be stronger."

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230 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "Thank you," said Chris faintly. His mother could not be with him, but it was a woman after all who was watching him so tenderly. She was a doctor and a surgeon, too, like all the rest of them, and so she was an altogether safe to have around at such a time. Well might Chris have said Poor Phil," for even Lucille could not get a word out of him on their way home. She was recovering her spirits more rapidly, and she evidently bad a great deal of faith in Dr. Talcott, but for Philip the whole world bad turned blue, for that day at least. He went back to the shop and went to work, but all the tools and fixings belonging to Chris had been put away, and there was another workman, a new comer, at that bench. It made Philip hate the shop more intensely than ever to look in that direction and see somebody else instead of Chris. Mrs. Huyler did not go down into the laundry. There was a sound of vigorous scrubbing coming out of it, however, and Mr. Gerichten had barely bowed Mrs. Huyler into the house, Lucille hurrying in with her, before an eagerly enquiring voice came from a flushed face at the head of the street steps: "Muster Gorrishy Was he kilt ?

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CHRIS IS A HERO. 231 "No," said the model maker. They think he will come out all right." '' Plaze the saints he wull then. Praise God or that exclaimed the enquirer. "But they niver can do him up over again and mek a full length mon of him." Down she went, and the washboard music began again, double power, but up in the parlor drying.room Mrs. Huyler said to Lucine: So hard not to be with him I was never away from him before, not in all his life. I'm going to see him anyhow They shan't keep me away." I guess it's only for a day or two," said Lucille; "I'll go home now, but oughtn't you to go and lie down? It's been so dreadful Do, please, Mrs. Huyler." "Do go, dear; you must be tired yourself," said Mrs. Huyler. "Do you know, they were right .I'm ever so glad I wasn't there I might have screamed, or something, and hurt him. It must have been awful." Lucille was very young, but she knew enough to let Mrs. Huyler talk it out, or a minute or so. Then she would have been glad to have hurried home, but, the moment she was in the street, her movements 16

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232 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. were impeded ; even tbe Laurens Street neighbors had learned enough to wish to know more, and they understood that she had the news. Who would have thought that all those people could have taken so deep an interest in poor Chris! To be sure, most 0 them had known him, year ater year. It made Lucille very willing to stop and tell all she knew, they seemed to care so much, and they had so many good things to say or Chris. She did get home at last, while all through the neighborhood, from house to house, travelled the report 0 what the surgeons had done. It must have grown well as it went, moreover, or the gen eral impression made was that Chris was like Lau rens Street itsel;f, to be pulled all to pieces, so that something better and larger and handsomer could be built up instead 0 him. Lucille went into her house and upstairs, but it she had expected to be alone, she was mistaken. There was Sara Vladovna, in the back room, scold ing in her own tongue at the conduct 0 the wonder ul stove, but ready to turn away from it instantly, and ask Lucille, in German, i Chris had really been all cut up. She was by no means easily satisfied, for she had seen and heard a great many things and

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CHRIS IS A HERO. 233 was eager to tell what they were, until a strong smell and smoke of something burning summoned her to pull slides and open doors and hurl Polish exclamations of displeasure into the mysterious recesses of her cooking apparatus. Whatever it was that had gone amiss, before the difficulty was overcome the noon whistles blew and the steps of Mr. Gerichten could be heard coming up to his dinner table. Almost nothing at all could be said to have taken place, and there bad been very little talking in either house, until tbe shop was busy again. Even then it was by no means an accident that came, for it was Mr. Selden Stimson himself. He had returned from W asbington, brimful of the Phan tom Borer, and he had felt like the largest man in Laurens Street all the way and down tbe steps. He had even stooped in going down, as if there might be more than the usual danger that the gilded key would knock bis bat off. He came in hat in one hand, handkerchief in the other, and gold-rimmed glasses to stare with. He gave one sweeping glower all around the shop and then he demanded sonorously : "Where is Stub?"

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CHRI.S, 'l'HE MODEL MAKER. Philip was at a lock at his own bench, but he dropped it and turned around as if something had stung him. His face grew stormily red. "I'll teach him not to say Stub sprang to his lips in a fierce, angry whisper, and he was starting right across the shop as if he meant to do something or other, but Mr. Gerichten was in his way. It was not a good time for anybody to speak carelessly of Chris, and the boss himself had stepped in front of Mr. Stimson without any bow whatever. "Mr. Christopher Huyler is under the care of the surgeon _s," he said sternly. He cannot be seen to-day." "What?; suddenly exclaimed Mr. Stimson. "Is Stub sick? That is too bad I hope nothing serious is the matter with him! Any delay-Surgical treatment, did yo.11 say ? \Vas it an accident?" He seemed so stai:tled that Philip stood still and listened for a i:p.oment. "I will tell you how it is," said Mr. Gerich ten; and tell him he did, while Mr. Stimson stood still and heard, with a manifestly deep and sincere interest. "Poor Stub!" he said at last, and it may be that

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CHIUS IS A HERO. 235 his sympathy was genuine, but be at once added: "Has he done anything with my model? Where are the new drawings he made or it ? I think they were up in his place." "Philip?" said Mr. Gerichton enquiringly. "All put away and locked up," called out Philip. "Nobody but Chris could find them. He did some work on Mr. Stimson's model. Said it wouldn't be be worth a cent without an improvement he was thinking of." It was Mr. Stimson's turn to grow a little red in the face, but he was a man who did not easily lose his composure and, after at least once more remark ing "Poor Stub!" he went away "Old humbug!" grumbled Philip, as he saw the great inventor depart. I'll bet Chris has got an invention that's worth ten of his." Nevertheless, the first enquiry at the surgical in stitution concerning the condition of "Huyler" was made by a gentleman of importance, who insisted upon seeing the p ; rincipal authority in charge of so important a case. "We think he is doing well, Mr. Stimson," responded Dr. Talcott to his very impressive visitor. "It is a case I take especia l interest in."

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236 CHRIS, 'l'HE MODEL MAKER. "Well you may, I think," said Mr. Stimson emphatically, and glowering down at the doctor over bis glasses. "His recovery is of importance. You may not know it, Dr. Talcott, but that little fellow, deformed as he is, possesses abilities of a high order. Great mechanical skill--" "We know! we know!" half testily interrupted Dr. Talcott. "He bas our best attention. So does every case. We make no distinction." "Of course not; unprofessional," replied Mr. Stimson. "But a matter affecting the future wel fare of this community---" "Ah?" said the doctor, and Mr. Stimson's next remark was almost a speech. It's length proved how deeply be was concerned for Chris and or the improvement of his health, and also for his proposed improvement of the Phantom Borer. That was what took the doctor. He was already interested in Chris. He knew much about elec tricity. He was of an enquiring turn of mind, more over, and Mr. Stimson had caught a listener to whom he could unfold the magnitude of bis ideas for the under world, or under city, of new streets which was to come, as well as for the altogether ...

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CHRIS IS A HERO. 237 new relations between larger or smaller pieces of land which nature had erroneously separated by water partitions. "Stupendous!" exclaimed the doctor. "An en tirely new system of veins and arteries for travel and commerce to run in. We will do the best we can for Chris, especially as we shall need our mani kin for our surgical classes as soon as we open our school in the autumn." Get him well Get him well said Mr. Stim son. Don't-ah-don't try any experiments on him. He isn't made on the ordinary pattern." Dr. Talcott may or may not have seen anything funny in the idea of the Phantom Borer, but he saw no fun at all in Chris and his bodily oddities. He was civil enough, however, until Mr. Stimsbn :marched out with a look on his face in which humor, or it might be fun, mingled about evenly with his accustomed strong self respect. I declare exclaimed the doctor, looking after him. What curious oddities such a man as Chris must have to deal with Not by any means a lunatic either. I shall want a talk with Chris about that thing. Biggest crank I've heard of At that very moment Mr Stimson was remarking

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238 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. as if perhaps he were addressing one of his senators; or a president, or a general of the army : "It's a great encouragement to me to find how the idea of the Phantom Borer and it's stupendous results commends itself to all men of culture, of breadth of mind, of statesmanship. Poor Stub! He must hurry and get well That was, undoubtedly, the next best thing for him to do, unless Philip was to go on and make several times as many blunders as were at all neces sary in the Gerichten shop. His employer did not that afternoon scold him for one of them, and it was only five o'clock when he leaned over him and said: "You go now, Philip. See how he is and come back. You have worked enough to-day." Off went Phil as soon as he could untie his apron, and his going was seen from one of the upper windows, for Lucille leaned away out to look after him as she said to herself: "We shall know now! Oh, dear! I'm almost afraid to hear what he'll have to say when he gets back." Philip went rapidly enough, but he did not catch up with anybody, neither did he have to ask any questions when he got there. The moment he

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CHRIS IS A. HERO. 239 entered the general reception room all his attention was absorbed by two women who stood near the middle of it. One of them was the soft-voiced woman who had been watching by his brother, and she was saying: "I'm so glad to say it, Mrs. Huyler; I can give you a great deal of encouragement. You shall see him sooner, I think, than we at first expected." Mrs. Huyler was wringing her apron very hard indeed when she said: "Ob, but can't you let him know I came," she glanced at a face by her shoulder then and she added, and Philip ? "His mother and his brother? how sweetly her voice did sound. "Of course I will." Come, Philip, we n:iust go now," said Mrs. Huyler . "She says he is going to get well. I'm so glad that that real good, good woman is with him!"

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CHAPTER XV. PHILIP IN THE GARRET. DHERE was not quite so much shadow in the house when Philip and his mother reached it after their visit of enquiry. Lucille was there waiting for news of Chris, and she may have taken what they brought for more than its real value. Oh, I'm so glad she said. "Why, Mr s Huyler, he's going to be better and stronger than he ever was." "But he must suffer so," said Mrs. Huyler. "Oh, no, mother," exclaimed Philip. "The nurse said he wasn't really suffering now ; he was only so weak. He'll come right up and we can bring him home." That had iiot been said by any surgical authority, but Phil was hoping for it so strongly that he believed it. At all events, Lucille was already at the door, going home to tell her father all she knew and, probably, somewhat more. He himself put a 240

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PHILIP IN THE GARRET. 241 small damper on her enthusiasm, for he shook his head at the end of her report and remarked : "It is too soon to tell. He is not so strong as another man." Supper was over but the long, summer day still had some of its abundant sunlight left on hand when Philip weut up the stairs to the garret, unhooked and lifted the hatch and took a long look in. He seemed to hesitate a moment as if he were an unauthorized intruder. "How I wish Chris was here," he said. "How strange it looks without him. The clocks are all ticking; I guess be wound up everything before he went away this morning." That was so, but Philip had not been there then to see him shake hands with the skeleton, and the crusader, and the manikin, in such a friendly way, as he said good-by to them. He bad eyen patted a monster elephant's bead and bad told them all : "Take good care of yourselves while I'm gone, and if I should come back--" There Chris had paused, for Dr. Talcott had frankly told bim that there was a very even chance that he could not survive the surgical operation. His bright face had clouded then for a moment, but

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242 CHIUS, 'l'HE MODEL MAKER. it put on a smile again, for he was going downstairs to meet his mother and Philip. His brother remembered exact1y how he had looked when he came down, and he gazed around him all the more earnestly upon the queer place Chris had left behind him. ''Wish I was as good a workman as he is!" exclaimed Phil, but I aint and I never could be. There isn't anybody else just like him. And then," be added almost :fiercely, he must come back I know he will He did not know anything of the kind, and that was what made the whole garret seem so solemn, as he walked around and looked at things without touching them. '' Hullo he said, at the end of a few minutes of investigation. "What's this? I never saw this before. Wonder if it isn't something that belongs to his new invention. 'Tisn't old Stimson's Borer. Chris said he hadn't got to that yet." There was a great deal of electrical apparatus in that garret. Most of it stood away over in one corner. Probably only men who knew something about such matters could have told what a great deal of it was made for, but it bad to be there, with

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PHILIP IN THE GARRET. 243 reference to a number of inventions and improve ments that were all the while coming to the model shop. Phil had seen it all often enough, and it was not this that he was now taking so much interest in. He was looking at what suggested the idea of about the youngest railroad he had ever seen. It would have been at home in a toy shop it it had not been for its solid and real-use workmanship. It began in that corner and ran almost half-way around the room. "He had just been putting it together and setting it up," said Phil. "That work wasn't done in our shop. Almost anybody could make it for him, but what's he going to do with it? I can't guess A great theatre alligator that lay on the :floor near him had his ugly mouth wide open up to that moment, but Phil's foot had caught in a wire that ran across the floor and "snap," the fierce jaws came together, while streams of blue fire shot out from the bulging eyes on either side of the monster's head. "Didn't he set that up, though exclaimed Phil admiringly. "Shutting his mouth pulls the trigger and touches off the powder. That's what they wanted!" Nevertheless, the alligator seemed to be express-

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244 CllRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. ing anger at Philip for meddling with that machine, as well as refusing to tell him anything about it. He even rushed forward, three or four feet, and opened and shut his jaws again, but his blue-fire wrath was then all used up and he lay still. "Tell you what," said Philip, almost as if he were replying to the alligator. "I'm coming up here to read every evening while Chris is gone, but I won't let anybody else come up here." The alligator's mouth opened sleepily half-way for a moment, and closed again without speaking, but better ears than his had heard Philip declare his intention, and it was Lucille at t):.ie head of the stairs who spoke in stead "why, Philip," she said. "I wanted to see bow it looked. It's so strange not to see Chris here, isn't it? I can't do anything to-day. Chris has been here ever since I can remember. Poor Chris." "Glad you came," was all that Phil could say for a moment. She was silent, too, for everything round them was full of the fact that this was Chris' workshop, and that he was no longer there. Tinkle-tinkle-tinkle, went an old--fashioned mantel clock that was striking the hour a 0 min utes too soon, an d Philip exclaimed:

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PHILIP IN THE GARRET. 245 "There One thing I can do I can keep every thing wound up and running till he gets back. I know how to work 'em. He has made me do it for him lots of times. I won't let a single clock run down, nor 'the music.box, either." Can you make it go?'' asked Lucille. "I should be afraid of breaking something." "Of course I can," said Philip. "Chris says he can work better, sometimes, if it's going. I couldn't. I'd have to stop and listen." That was what they both had to do now, for the self-performing orchestra in the music-box at once struck out into a grand march when he pulled the pin, and in another half minute the head of Mrs. Huyler herself came up through the open hatchway. "Children she exclaimed. What did you do that for It sounds dreadful Seems to me I couldn't even play the piano till Chris gets back "Why, mother," said Phil, "Chris would like it. I'll wind it up again.'' Well, I declare she said. So he would. I guess you're right. It kind o' does me good, too. Let it play, Philip. I wish Chris could bear it if it wouldn't hurt him, but I guess he isn't well enough yet."

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246 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. Probably it did them all good, and there they waited and walked around and looked, and talked, while the garret grew slowly dusky. "Dear me," said Lucille. "It's getting dark. I ought to be home." "Why," replied Mrs. Huyler," Philip can light up. I just love to have you here." "Why, it's dark now '' exclaimed Lucille. What are you going to do, Philip?" His bad suggested something, and he had pulled the cord with which Chris opened and closed bis window shutters. "Wait a moment," he said. I told you about the alligator. Look at this. He says it's a first-rate improvement. He invented it himself." Lucille did not scream, but she did get a little nearer Mrs. Huyler, for all at once the helmet of the crusader was alive with red light, while a blaze that was even redder flashed through the eyeless sockets 0 the skeleton's head, and bis bony hand arose to point at the mailed bosom of bis warrior neighbor. Isn't it great ? said Philip. "And there comes the dragon It isn't all set up-yes it is! Go it I can fix it again Look at his tongue wag, Luci11e. When his wings flap the fire squirts. The elephant's

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PHILIP. IN THE GARRET. 247 head burnt out too soon. So did the wild boar's head, but the wol is all right. He's afire yet. The two giant heads are Gog and Magog. That's a devil, and Chris s ays he can make a better one twice over. Isn't Chris just wonderful ? responded Lucille enthusiastically. "Why, Philip, I believe he could do anything." "It's easy enough," said Philip. "He says it i s and I s'pose it is-for him." His mother was coughing hard, while he lighted a gas jet and they could then see, a little dimly, that it was time to reopen the windows and l e t iu some fresh air in place of all that smoke. "Chris is getting up some other kinds of fire,n said Philip, "that won't smoke so much." All that he had been touching off, however, was of the old kind, and the garret sme11ed as powdery as the Fourth of J u]y or a battle field. "I do feel so much better," exclaimed Mrs. Huy ]er. I feel more as if he were going to get well. It's next to seeing him." Of course it was, for they bad Chris and hi s work right there to talk about. There vyas to be no fencing lesson that evemng. 17

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248 CHRIS, THE MODEL .l!AKER. Mr. Gerichten had not spoken a word about it, but had locked up the shop after supper and gone away. No mimic soldiering was to be done, but over in what was the "hospital part of the surgical insti tution, and all alone now, for a while, a brave little soldier was fighting a very hard and very real battle. He was fighting with pain and with weak ness and with a terrible feeling of discouragement. What a fight Chris must have had all along The battle of life must have been so different for him, from what it is to robust young fellows who have everything and whose hearts are in the right place. So still. Such utter silence. All alone. The dark ness came before the nurse did, but Chris fought bravely on, and it might be that he would win a victory, but nobody could tell yet. Just once his lips parted and there was a kind of whisper. "I can almost see it," he said, "as if I were there, showing Phil how it works. I'll turn on all the music there is, and all the fireworks too, the day I get that thing agoing It doesn't hurt me so much now. Perhaps I can sleep No noise came into the room, but a light, a softly increasing light, arrived a few minutes afterward,

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PHILIP IN THE, GARRET. 249 and Dr. Talcott leaned over to look and then put his head away down to listen. Then a kind of light grew : softly in his face, too, and he arose and nodded to the kindly, smiling woman who was with him. She seemed to be imitating him for a moment, leaning, listening, looking, and her face grew exceed ingly handsome as she turned away and went out of the room with the doctor. 'l'be music-box in the garret cave was doing its best on a fine piece of dancing music when Chris' mother and Lucille and Philip went down the stairs. Phil, however, only went down to his own room for a book and returned to the ganet, while Lucille went home. She was glad to be there and she was glad that her father had gone. It was not that she felt exactly like reading, but she had never before felt such a ever to rummage among his books. She bad finished the old romance of the Turkish frontier. She had read, to the last page, all it bad to ten of the long fight to keep the turbaned invaders from conquering the rest of Europe, after they bad over run the old Greek empire. She knew a great many things that she bad never known before. Among

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250 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. other things, she knew that the Christian knights who had fought the Saracens had worn, many 0 them, very much such armor as she had seen sitting in the chair in Chris Huyler's garret. It was a puzzle how any scimitar or lance could ever get through such a coat of mail as the crusader had on ; But then, they did, and a great many were killed in spite of their steel clothing. She was thinking of it, while she rummaged, but the greater part of her father's collection did not seem to have any interest for her. What she really wanted was another book a great deal like the first one. Philip, over in the gaITet, was actually reading, but he had not brought his book of anatomy away up there. The manikin himself that was sitting so near him, was all the book of that kind that was needed in one garret, and Philip was not now think ing even of him. The fact was that he was tired of thinking and . did not want to do any. He did not even want to learn anything, and so he was learning a great deal. He was getting it out of a frowsy looking old vol ume that he had bought at a bookstand for fifteen cents, just before all his new ad ventures began, and he had not yet begun to know what was in it. He

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PHILIP IN THE GARRET. 251 bad heard of it, and that was the 1eason w by he bad bought it, for some of the Laurens Street boys bad said it was about the best thing they knew of. Philip did not at once begin to read bis book, for it was so strange to be there, all alone, in Chris' own room, with Chris away, and with all those things around him. He hardly felt like reading for a little while, but then be began, and after he began be read on and on, or the story would not let go of him. It wa's not much of a story, either, and it was very simply told. Nothing but how a sailor fellow got himself shipwrecked, all alone on a desert island, and how he managed to get a Ii ving afterward, for ever so long. It told of what a house be made and of how be tamed parrots and goats, and how he grew lonelier, lonelier, till he would have given anything to have seen or spoken to another man. Philip him self felt lonely, in his garret, up to the place where Robinson Crusoe was scared half to death by finding the print of a naked human foot in the sand. It was tremendous reading and Philip bad hardly lifted his eyes again, be knew not for bow long, until all the clocks that could strike began to tell him it was twelve, and the cuckoo came out to call

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252 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. at him, and the bells tinkled, but the music-box had run down long ago. "I won't go downstairs," he as he shut up the book. "I'll go to sleep right here. I might wake up mother." He lay back among the cushions and on his brother's bed the last thing he said was : I guess Robinson Crusoe's cannibals much like our Indians. I'm going to read about them, too. I'd like to see some, but I don't believe I shall ever kill any. There are tribes and tril?es 0 them, and buffaloes, and gold mines, and wild horses and--" And there his eyelids grew heavy and the next he knew was when the sun lopked into the garret to tell him it was morning.

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CHAPTER XVI. HOW CHRIS CAME HOME. 111HILIP went to his work as usual that Tuesday morning, but long before break fast he had carefully wound up every thing that would wind among the treasures Chris had left behind him. Nothing there had been left undone, but when he reached the shop he felt as if it were not exactly the place he wanted to be at work in. Mr. Gerichten was there, and the other men were there, and customers were already coming and going. Several of them only waited long enough to be bowed to and informed of Mr. Huyler's illness. Their hasty departure helped Philip to feel as he did about matters and things, but it was all the more difficult for him to get at any job after bring ing in a pail of charcoal, because he was waiting and expecting > something. He was as strong as usual, too, and yet he had an impression that he was carrymg something too heavy. It was tiring 253

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254 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. him out at the same time that it was scaring him. He grew more and more afraid, until be oould hardly file, and he looked at the street steps every half minute. "Mother ought to be back by this time," he was thinking. She said she would tell me right away. What can have made her stay so n It was only because each of his minutes, one after another, was so much longer than any of the s ixty second pieces of time that be had ever had before. "Father!" That was from half-way down the steps, and behind it he heard another voice saymg, out of breath like : "Tell Phil! Tell him, Lucille "Father That was all the way down the steps. "Philip Chris is better!" Thank Gott shouted old Mr. Gerichten, but Philip could only say : "Oh, I just knew he would!" But he was kind of choking, and there was really no room to say any more, for Lucille shouted back up the steps : "Philip is here, Mrs. Huyler. He knows." "I'll go home," he heard his mother say, and Lucille came swiftly into the shop to add:

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HOW CHRIS CAME HOME. 255 "They wouldn't let us see him. They can't say when they will, but Dr. Talcott says he's doing first rate, and his nurse, why she thinks he's splendid. I think she is, too!" She went right upstairs, but the strip 0 brass, whatever it was, in Philip's vice at that moment was filed clean in two in a ew seconds. A file does not often get a chance to fly back and forth as that :file did. "I don't eel like doing anything this morning," exclaimed Lucille when she reached the upper story. I believe I'll take a long walk. I'll go to the Park. I don't really want to do anything!" Chris' mother did, and perhaps it was as well or her that her laundry work was somewhat behind. There were loads 0 fine laces, too, and she treated them with extraordinary tenderness as she now and then remarked to herself or to her sympathizing helpers: "The harder I work the better I eel. Chris-I do so hope they'll be gentle with him. They can't help it. She's a real good woman. So is Dr. Tal. cott. They can't help being good to Chris." "Indade they can't, mum," scrub.uh-uh, scrub, came from over the next washtub. "Glory be to

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256 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. God I'm as glad as I can be. And I'm not at all his own mother, ayther, but i it was a b'ye 0 mine, I'd eel the same There was intense sincerity in all tbat, and the good woman was fairly making the suds fly, while Mrs. Huyler spread out a freshly cleansed lace collar with as dainty a touch as if it had been a poultice. Philip was not exactly waiting for anything more, but he was carefully picking out from the half finished model of a new street car, a lot of tools and things that he had dropped into it somehow, when he was almost startled by a loud, hearty voice enqumng: "How's Stub? Anybody heard from him this morning?" Philip actually forgave him for saying "Stub," because he seemed so much in earnest, and Mr. Gerichten told him, with more than ordinary polite ness, all they had heard from the hospital. "Doing well, is he ? said Mr. Stimson at last, poli s hing his elegant glasses with his silk handker chief and staring thoughtfully at a tool on the nearest work bench. '' I cannot go ahead without a working model. In fact, Mr. Gerichten, the

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HOW CHRIS CAME HOME. 257 Phantom Borer itself is in hospital. We will hope for the best." He did not go away with any outward appearance of dejection, but Philip got an impression that the Phantom Borer was really very sick. It was only an hour later that another kind of sensation came down into the basement, and Philip felt for a moment or so as if it were now his turn to be sick. He's after me! he exclaimed. 'Tisn't of any use to get away. They'd find me. It's just awful to be a witness For this time it was not an inventor nor any other customer, but a tall man in a blue uniform, and his curt greeting was : Hullo, Gerichten. I want to see you a moment. Is that boy here ? "There he is," bowed the model maker, pointing at Philip. There was good grit in Phil, for he stood around squarely and aced the officer without flinch ing. He did not say a word, however, for he was feverishly imagining himself already in court, and he had a painful idea that a witness was, after all, one of the criminals on trial.

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258 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. That's the chap, is it? said the officer. "Well, that's all I wanted to know. Most likely we shan't need him. Some of those fellows were convicted yesterday. The man he 'tended to isn't well enough yet. They may let him off. We must keep track of our witnesses, though." You need not lock him up," said Mr. Gerichten, a little sarcastically. "He is here. He will be ready." "All right," replied the officer, and Philip drew a long breath of relief as the blue coat vanished into the street. "It's a rough time, anyway," thought Philip. "Chris is in hospital. The police are after me. Laurens Street is going all to pieces, and it's the hottest kind of weather.'' Things did look a little badly, but there was no help for it. There was no way out of the Gerichten workshop yet, and the whole day went by in a sort of dusty perspiration, for everybody seemed uncomfortable. he first real relief came at six o'clock, when Mr. Gerichten lean ed across the young steam-engine to say to Philip: "You go home. You come again, we fence." It was a warm evening for fencing and it was

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HOW CHRIS CAME HOME. 259 well or Philip that bis muscles were so firm, after his day's work, or his fencing master put him through an hour 0 pretty severe exercise. He was glad enough when Mr. Gericbten laid down his oil and remarked : You will make a good swordsman. It takes a man to make a good soldier!" At all events, a kind 0 pattern had been set that day, and several days which followed it were as like as so many peas. So they were at the hospital, as well as in the shop, if it had not been for one thing. There, indeed, lay Chris, slowly regaining strength and seeming to be doing nothing else. When his mother was allowed to come in and see him on the third day, all she could see was that his ace was so bright and that his voice was so ull of IDUSlC. The next day Philip came, and Chris vrns able to say: "How are things at the shop ? Have you seen Stimson? "All right," said Phil. He comes every day and he's crazy to see you. I've kept things wound up in the garret. I go up there to read." He was shut off by Dr. Talcott himself, for

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260 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER talking time had uot yet come, and they had a curious idea that Chris was away from the shop and from all his work. Even Mr. Gerichten thought so, when turn came for a look at his best workman, and he remarked : "I will not talk models or machines. They must all wait." Had they all been waiting? Some 0 them had; no doubt, but Chris could have told them of long, feverish hours, when it had done him ever so much good to imagine himself in his garret cave, going over everything in it, looking at his drawings and setting up all the inventions he had ever thought of. They ought to have known that his real workshop had come to the hospital with him, for he had his head on, and everything but the music-box, and the man ikin and a few other matters not yet made, was somewhere in his head; Lucille's piano practise and her violin and her reading and her visits 0 enquiry about Chris grew into a kind of routine, and so did Philip's fencing and his long evenings in the garret cave. He finished "Robinson Crusoe there, and he went into several other books that he did not like as well, or what Lucille told him and showed him 0 her own

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HOW CHRIS CAME HOME. 261 remarkable stories had set him into a fever about them. He even said : "I guess I must learn to read German." It was not till near the end of the week that Lucille was allowed to go in and sit down by Chris, but when she did come it seemed to do him ever so much good. He asked her about so many things, however, from the violin to her German novels, that he tired himself out and fell asleep before she arose to go. The fact was that they were all waiting, waiting for Chris to come back, and not one of them, not even Philip himself, k new exactly what Phil was doing. Reading ? Yes, he had been reading, but that was not all by any means, and he had filed several things in the shop all to ruin, just thinking about it. What was one week, when the days were so nearly alike, and when the weather was so warm, and Chtis away at the hospital? Nothing at all, and Philip was in the middle of the second week almost before he knew it. That was why he was so astonished when his mother told him, Wednesday evening: "Philip Dr. Talcott says Chris can be carried home Saturday."

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262 CHRIS, 'l'HE MODEJ, MAKER. Mother exclaimed Phil. I know he will get well faster home. I can carry him up there. That's the place for him." It was impossible to think of Chris being in that house, and in any other part of it than his cave of curiosities. Lucille practised her violin nearly all that even ing after she heard the news, and her father sat in his own room and listened, altogether as if he approved of it, until at last he exclaimed : Ah It is so good Lucille is so like her mother! I shall be so glad when Chris is back again!" 'fhen be said something to himself about the regret he felt that Lucille could not be given a good education and added: Well-well-we shall all be turned out of Laurens Street, anyhow. 'fhey tear it down pretty fast now." He had a great deal on his mind, no doubt, and he was as hard a disciplinarian as ever, but it was entirely with his consent that Philip spent all of Friday in the garret, "fixing up Chris' jobs, ready for him to see 'em when he comes." Lucille and Mrs. Huyler were up there together

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HOW CHRIS CAME HOME. 263 three times that day, and Dr. Talcott climbed the stairs for a long look at the manikin. He had a remarkably large number of questions to put to Philip and sympathized with him sincerely when he said, more than once : "The worst of it is, I can't remember any thing." The doctor went away after a while, and he was on the stairs when he remarked: "Humph I I don't believe there's an old nail in that garret that he doesn't remember, nor a scratch in that manikin. I think he'll do. But how wonderfully strong he is I" If there had been any changes made in the arrangements or :fixtures of that room, he had not spoken of them. Philip did not, but he worked with desperate energy, right along until after ten o'clock, with only a few minutes wasted at the supper table. His mother understood that he was doing something for Chris and that was enough to make her hurry him back, to make sure it should be all completed. "I've done it I" exclaimed Philip, when at last he put down some tools he had been working with and turned toward his bed. "It was all here. All I 18

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264 ORRIS, THE. MODEL MAKER. bad to do was to put it together. Now! what '11 Chris say ? That question had to be put off until Saturday forenoon, or, as it appeared to Philip, about a hun dred years. When that hundred was used up and another was beginning to go pretty slowly, a little before twelve o'clock on Saturday a kind of covered van came up from Canal Street. It was drawn by two horses and it was pulled up in front of the Huyler laundry, where a group stood as if waiting for it. "Philip," said Mr. Stimson, with the air of a man giving important information, "that is the ambul ance. He is to be carried up to his own room. I'm glad be doesn't weigh much." Phil had thought of that, and he had never felt so strong in all his life. A sort of thrill went over him as he walked to the rear end of the ambulance. Dr. Talcott was there, with an assistant, and they drew gently out a long, padded cushion, on which a well covered burden was lying. "Father," whispered Lucille, "it's Chris!" "Lucille Sh-sh-h breathed the anxious voice of Mrs. Huyler, with one arm around her young neighbor, but at that moment there came from the

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HOW CHRIS CAME HOME. 265 further end of the padded cushion, shrill and clear and very jubilant : Mother Here I am Back again Take me upstairs, Phil!" He will walk in less'n a week said Dr. Tal cott excitedly. Careful, Phil Forty thousand millions of dollars could not have made him any more so, and Philip laughed aloud to find how easily and buoyantly he could lift that burden and walk away with it. "Hurrah, Lucille said Chris, as he was carried past her. Mr. Stimson, we'll 'tend to the Phantom Borer, pretty soon. Hurrah, Mr. Gerich ten Hello, boys!" There was a sort of half-begun cheer from several voices, but it died away before it got any louderloud enough to hurt anybody. Of course Mrs. Huyler was crying and she did not speak, but quite a number of tetering, cautious footsteps followed Philip into the house. He did not seem to walk cautiously, for his feet came down with a :firm and sturdy tread, and he did not even go slowly up the stairs. "It hasn't hurt me a bit exclaimed Chris, when he at last sank back upon a soft mass of pillows

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266 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. and cushionti. Mother, come along Here I am It's all over A great deal was over, no doubt, and Dr. Talcott himself remarked : "No danger whatever, now, only he must be quiet until I tell him it's time to get up and go to work." "I'll be quiet, doctor," said Chris, as he glanced swiftly around the garret. "Phil! What have you been up to? What's that? Hold on a minute! Let me--" "Lie still, Chris! shouted Philip. "Don't move I've been up to something. You wait a moment." If Chris had been intending to say anything more he could not well have done it, just then. The machinery of that cave could be set to mid -day as well as to midnight, and out sprang the cuckoo as if calling upon everything else to speak up. Not a clock or a bell or a gong failed to respond sonorously, while the music-box broke out into a peal of trium phant' music. The skeleton and the man in armor arose and leaned forward to look at Chris and be sure he was there. There was a sudden activity among all the monsters on the floor, from the devil to the alligator, a nd even the manikin, sitting upright

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HOW CHRIS CAME HOME. 267 in the throne chair, put on an appearance of being in better health. "Bully!. exclaimed Mr. Stimson. "Philip deserves credit. Hello What ? He saw the very thing which had so excited Chris. The baby railway now ran all around the garret, instead of only on one side, but that would have been nothing at all if a trim looking railway car had not been buzzing along the tiny brazen rails and occasionally sending out little :flashes that suggested the idea of very minute bits of lightning. "Is it electricity?" gasped Mr. Stimson. "Are you using it as a motor?" "That's it sang out Chris. "I couldn't set it up before I had to go away. Phil has done it! Hurrah for Phil Mr. Stimson, i lightning '11 run a rail way, won't it run a Phantom Borer one of these days?" 0 course it will exclaimed Mr. Stimson. "There will be railways under the sea, under the streets, it will change the face of the world but his own was very red just then. "Now said Dr. Talcott. "You must all go. All but Mrs. Huyler and Philip. Chris has had enough."

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268 CHRIS, THE MODEL M.AKER. He was going the last man 0 the little procession be drove to the hatch, while the crusader and his bony friend sat down again, the alligator shut his mouth, the dragon folded his wings, and the music-box played a marching tune.

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CHAPTER XVII. THE END OF LAURENS STREET. DIME went, as time will, but Philip was not allowed to spend much of it in mere watching at the bedside of Chris. As early as Monday, that very busy-minded workman could be propped up so that he could look around the garret to see, among other things, what his brother was doing with the toy machinery <:>f the new invention. It was only Tuesday, moreover, when Mr. Stimson came with a respectable looking gentleman who seemed to know a great deal, and who minutely inspected every inch of the run-around railway. Chris would not say much to of them, but he let Philip show them all there was to show and they went away. On Wednesday, other men came with papers for Mrs. Huyler and Chris to sign, and Philip knew that. they were selling the house. A great business block was to occupy the ground it stood on, and the ground under several of the nearer houses, including Mr Gerich ten's. 269

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270 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "It's all going," said Philip almost excitedly, "and where we're to live I don't know." He said it aloud and Chris heard him. "Don't you?" he exclaimed cheerfully; "I don't quite, either, but I'm going to know pretty quick. Mr. Gerichten's 'tending to that. He's slow about it, brit he won't pay a cent more than he can help. He does just stick to money That had been the old model maker's reputation ever since he came into Laurens Street, and it may have had something to do with Lucille's idea that they were so poor. That very day, however, he, too, was busy with law papers, and at the end 0 it he remarked: "I shall not leave her without something, but there must be more, more than this I am so glad about Chris. Philip will never, never be the good workman that he is." Chris himself had thought 0 that more than once, as he lay propped up among his pillows and saw his brother at work around the room, and after ward, when he lay there alone while Philip was again away, making his usual allowance 0 blunders down in the shop. He thought 0 it more and more until, toward the

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THE END OF LAURENS STREE'f. 271 end of the week, it was one of the things on his mind when Philip helped him slip off the bed and stand up once more, leaning upon his crutches. I can walk he exclaimed, "better than ever. Hurrah! It doesn't hurt me! Tell you what, Phil, they've done it "Hurrah shouted Philip, with a movement of his feet as if he felt like dancing, but didn't know how. Chris was actually walking! He even whistled as he crutched himself straight across to the trio of chairs and shook hands, first with the manikin and then with that person's grim companions. We're all right he said. "But we've all got to clear out of this." They'll know what to do, then, but I don't," said Philip. "Even the alligator's got a place to go to." "So have we," said Chris. "Just you wait a bit Some people did not feel like waiting, for Philip went out shortly to tell the news concerning Chris. "I must go up and see him," said Mr. Gerichten, going to put on his coat. Philip had gone upstairs to tell Lucille and she shouted back:

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272 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. 0 Philip isn't it spendid I am coming right away, and I'll bring the violin along. I want him to know what I've been doing! The piano, too!" She did not actually take the piano up into the garret, but the fiddle went, .and she and it were there before her father, but not before Mrs. Huyler and a foll handbasket, which she ought to have left downstairs but was too much excited to let go 0. Chris was not walking now ; he was at the table, and all his drawings were out 0 the drawer, as if he had spread them around to look at their aces and get acquainted with them again. "Chris exclaimed Mr. Gerichten. "Why, boy, this is fine And I have sold my shop, and I have sold the old ramshackle between my house and this, and they pay for the new place uptown, and for the new shop Is not that good " Guess it is said Chris. And mother and I get enough for this to pay for the house we are to live in Think of that, Phil. We shall have a place to go to." It sounded pretty good, but after all it did not quite answer the question in Philip's mind. He had not been afraid but what he could get a place to sleep in and enough to eat. Any boy or man could

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THE END OF LAURENS STREET. 273 do that. But it did not seem exactly like living, to only just live, in so wonderful a world, and in a great city, too, that was so full of business and of successful men, with scores and scores of streets that were lined with fine residences. Some of them were even palaces. Perhaps some of those streets, Fifth A venue in particular, were marching through his mind, or else his mind was marching through them. Not that he wanted them, but then they seemed to stand for something, for he had heard that most of the business concerns and houses were owned by men who had once been poor. At least they were poor when they were boys. Was he to be always poor? Was he never to amount to anything ? Chris was a wonderful fellow, even if he was a cripple. His mother was a laun. dress, but then she was a particularly good one, and wasn't she a right down good woman ? It was no wonder that Philip's thoughts ran fast under such circumstances. They had so absorbed him, for a moment, that he had hardly heard a word that was spoken by the others. They had not been at a11 silent. Chris' ace had brightened at his first glimpse of the violin, but he bad hardly begun to say:

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274 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "Play something--" before Lucille exclaimed : "That's just what I came over for. I want you to see if I hav en't improved a little." And then, as she tucked the violin under her chin, she added : "Ob, Mrs. Huyler, father's going to get me a teacher for the violin and the piano, both. Then I'll show you what I can do." It was just the moment afterward that Philip woke out of his thoughts to say to himself, almost aloud: "There What's that ? That's :fine In a minute or so more it was Chris who ex claimed: "Why-Lucille! I knew she could On went the violin, and the young player's face flushed and her eyes were intensely earnest as the bow flew so swiftly back and forth, while her father sat as still as a mouse to listen until he w bispered loudly: "And she bad no teacher! My soul And how much she is like her mother l that meant that she was a very proud and happy looking girl, she was more like somebody of that kind than she had ever been before. She bas practised and practised exclaimed

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THE END OF LAURENS STREET. 275 Mr. Gerichten. "But who would have thought it was in her "I knew it was said Chris. "She must have a violin 0 her own, though. That one is going home pretty soon, Lucille. Philip and I must give you the new one. It's an old one, too, but it's better than that. I know where we're to get it." 0 Chris she said. "You do think I'm im-proving, don't you?" "Guess 1 do he said, and his mother added : "You must hear her play the piano "I'll be downstairs in a ew days-" began Chris, but there had been another arrival and it was Dr. Talcott who interrupted them: "You won't do any more to-day, though. What made you get up before I got here? I said I'd come. Now, Chris, you lie down again. They must all go, or you're not out 0 my hands yet." There was no disputing him, and he persisted in remaining after be bad put Chris back among his pillows. He then stood and seemed to be studying his patient for a moment. Then he turned and looked at the manikin and asked : "How much more is there to do on him ? "Not more than one good day's work," replied Chris

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276 CHRIS, 'l'HE MODEL MAKER. a little faintly. "Then the old fellow's heart will be in the right place. I wish mine were." "Yours 'll do, now, for many a long year," half laughed the doctor, "and so will your head; you go to sleep. I want to say something about Philip, but it'll have to wait until another time." "Poor Phil muttered Chris, as his eyelids grew heavier, and it was in somewhat the same tone in which so many of his own friends had said: "Poor Chris!" Philip would have done more thinking during several days which followed, if he had had any time for it, or if there had not been so very many things to think of. There were some very interesting things and places, too, to go and look at, or he knew now where his mother's new house was to be. Not on Fifth Avenue, by any means, and not so very large was the home they were to remove to, but it was really three stories, instead of only two stories and a cave, like the old one. It was only a short distance, moreover, from an even better house which Mr. Gericbten bad obtained, and there was even to be a better shop-every way better and much larger-several squares away. A way uptown it was, and Mr. Gericbten might well doubt whether

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THE END OF LAURENS STREET. 277 much 0 his old business would follow him so far as that. He grumbled and grumbled at everything but the unexpected price he had obtained or the old property The tyranny which had widened the street, in the name 0 the public good, had vastly increased the value 0 all the lots fronting on it. Philip heard what the figures were, but they seemed unreal to him, as i he had read about them in Robinson Crusoe. Hardly that, either, or the old castaway and his man Friday, and their house and garden on the desert island, were pretty nearly as real as was anything else he had ever heard 0. He and Lucille took a peculiar interest in some other things that they seemed to own in common. One was the work 0 tearing up Laurens Street, as it went on, faster and aster. Another was the going away of their old neighbors, some in one direc tion and some in another. All of that betokened the fact that a great change was taking place and that they were never more-they and all those others-to be precisely what they had been, and they did not know precisely what they were going to be. Next to that was the gradual removal 0 tools and models and all sorts 0 things from the shop. Sara

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278 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. Vladovna had not paid much attention to that, but there came a morning when her honest face was all one gloom. The furniture vans had come for the Gerichten household goods. Room after room was cleared and there was no help for it. Sara watched everything that went downstairs, but she kept the kitchen door closed to the last and then went in and stood by her stove as if she meant to protect it. Lucille, too, was watching, and it was just when Sara held up both hands in anxiety-while four strong men strained under that marvellous cooking machine--that Philip came hurrying in, exclaiming: "That man has come for his fiddle "0 Philip!" she said; "it's here; I've been carry ing it around all the morning. I feel as if it were my fiddle. It knows me, too." And now, as she almost tearfully gave it to Philip, she at once picked up the cage of the canary and walked out of the hous e It was time for the old place to go down. There were other vans, and she saw them in front of the Huyler place, and she said to Philip: "What will Chris do! He'll never get another shop like that." Of course he won't," replied Philip, as he walked

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THE END OF LAURENS STREET. 279 away with the violin und' er his arm ; "they carried off the manikin an hour ago, and all the rest 0 the things are going." In a minute or so more be had delivered the mended musical instrument to its owner and had hurried up into the garret cave. Even now it was no longer the same. Clock after clock had disappeared and even the cuckoo would never again come out to call up Chris. The music box had gotten down as far as the parlor drying room, but that was altogether empty and there was not a tub left in the basement. When Philip went up through the hatch, he saw Chris sitting at the table and looking up into the face 0 Mr. Stimson. He had never looked brighter, and the great inventor could hardly even have looked more important. "Yes, sir," said Chris, as i replying to something that had been said ; you may tell them that i you can pay me ten thousand dollars, all my own, you will sell them my improvement. I don't care i 'JOU get twenty and keep some. That's your profit." "Done, Stub!" said Mr. Stimson, and then he added humorously, or he was a witty man : Their 19

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280 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. whole machine will be crippled without it. It's had to go on crutches, so far." So had Chris, and so had a great many other people who had nevertheless managed to get along pretty well. Mr. St, \mson himself was a very strong and fine-looking man, and witty. Philip heard it, without exactly believing that it could be true, but he was all the w bile looking around the room. The alligator had crept out into the middle of it, and the dragon was almost sitting on him, while Gog and Magog had tipped over against the elephant's head and the devil was lean ing over the long-tusked wild boar and looked en tirely dissatisfied with the new disarrangement. About the only thing not at all disturbed was the electric apparatus attached to the toy rail way ma chinery that illustrated the invention made by. Chris. "That's what they're going to buy," said Philip. "I guess there's more in it than there is in the Phantom Borer." Something had undoubtedly been said about that, however, for Chris himself spoke of it again, re marking: Soon as we're settled in the new shop, Mr. Stirn-

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, THE END OF LAURENS STREET. 281 son, I'll go ahead with it. If you can't bore every thing, you can bore a great deal. It's the greatest gimlet the world ever heard of." "Hum said Mr. Stimson. "We'll put it in shape, but it may be that the right time :for it has not come. Why, Stub, I've met men lately to whom the entire idea is chimerical. It is too much for them." "Always so with any new invention," said Chris. "You shouldn't talk about your longest holes first. Bore out a street under Broad way and leave the Atlantic for the second trip." "I must go now," said Mr. Stimson. "This thing of yours '11 really work ana the money's as good as ready. It's just what they must have; I know 'em." "It's all right, Philip," remarked Chris, as Mr. Stimson went downstairs. "If he can't tell them all it's worth, nobody can. That's what he was made for. I don't think I could improve on him." "Guess not," said Philip, bnt this 'ere's just awful They've begun to tear down the houses right across the street, and these '11 come next." Let 'em go," said Chris. "We're going." But that new house of ours," said Phil "isn't any kind of place for a laundry."

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282 CHRIS, THE MODEL MAKER. "There isn't going to be any there--" began Chris, but he had to change the subject into: Well, Mr. Gerich ten, got back ? vV e can get it all out to-day-easy! 'T'wont take long now." "I'm glad there won't be any laundry," said Mr. Gerichten, replying to what be had heard first. "But how is that?" "I've sold my improvement;" said Chris tri umphantly. "We shall have the capital for the new business. Mother can keep house and play the piano." ''Hurrah!" shouted Philip, but there was a kind 0 crack or an uncertainty in bis voice, and he did not hurrah well and Chris could go right on. When we get the money," he said, Phil can go right in with Dr. Talcott and make a surgeon 0 himself. The doctor says he wants him." "Oh!" said Philip breathlessly. "What! Did Dr. Taleott say so? He. wants me?" "That's right," remarked Mr. Gericbten. "It is all he is fit for. He would never make a goo me chanic, but I think be V{ould make a good surgeon. He will fence very well, too. He would do or a soldier. 'Tisn't every man can be a good mechanic." "I couldn't," said Philip, in a doubtful tone of

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! TIIE END OF LAURENS STREET. 283 voice, but with a great red blaze in his face. I want to see Dr. Talcott." "Oh, yes," said Mr. Gerichten. "You are pretty strong. You could cut a man up and put him together. Yon know where all the pieces belong. It is not so much as it is to make a model when the inventor himself does not know what the pieces are to be, or what is to be done with them." That might be so, but Chris had yet an errand for Philip. It was connected with a long, narrow box that lay upon the table and he pointed at it, sayrng: "Phil, that's for you to carry up to Lucille. She doesn't know it's coming." "Bully!" exclaimed Philip, reaching out at once for the thing he was to carry. "Won't she be glad to get it "Oh said Mr. Gerich ten. That is the new violin! You are so very good But that girl-if she only had a good education " Mr. Gerichten," exclaimed Chris," I think Lucille has a pretty good education. She has been through the grammar school. She has two or three lan- guages, besides her She is learning music and drawl.ng. You must get her some first-class

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284 CHRIS, THE MODEL MA.KER. teachers. Now, what do they teach in the girl's colleges ? "They teach a good deal," said Mr. Gerichten thoughtfully. "'Pon my soul, I do not know what it all is, but they give them a good education. She must learn all she can, now we have more money. She is growing so much like her mother Philip had vanished. It was well for him, that day, that he knew all the streets leading uptown, for he was not at all mindful which of the)ll he was walking on. That is, not until after he stood still, for a moment, at the foot of one broad, splendid avenue and said of it: Fifth A venue is to be stretched out a mile down town. They mean to call that part of it South Fifth Avenue. There won't be any more Laurens Street. And I'm to go and study to be a doctor, with Dr. Talcott. Why, we're kind of got to go up, whether we warited to or not." That was partly so, but something more was to be said. By no means all of the Laurens Street people were going up. Some of them were even going down. There were cripples there of several kinds, who had not been as brave nor had fought as good and successful a fight as bad Chris. Philip i

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THE E D OF LAURENS STREET. 285 thought 0 some 0 them, too, but he did not say anything, and he went on up the avenue, every now and then giving an extra hug to the box under his arm. It was not so very long before he found himself upon a neat looking cross street away uptown, look ing at the numbers of the houses. "There he exclaimed suddenly. If they didn't get here first. Guess Mr. Gerichten took a street car, but Dr. Talcott brought Chris up in his own buggy. He doesn't eel quite safe about him yet. Isn't he a real good fellow! Glad I'm to be with him, instead 0 any other doctor." He had understood correctly the reason why the doctor's was there, and in a minute more he was in the house. Away downstairs in the back basement kitchen, new and clean, Lucille herself was standing by Mrs. Huyler and remarking: "Well, stationary tubs, but there are only three 0 'em." "Chris says there's more than enough," said Mrs. Huyler. "If there were any more, he'd have them taken out. Only our own things are to be done up, here, but I believe I will take in some laces."

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286 CHRIS, THE MODEL M ER. Sara Vladovna turned toward them from the bright, new range which she had been examining, but beore she could say a word about it, an excited voice shouted down from the stairs leading to the parlor floor : Mother Lucille Come along up I want to show you something The carpet was not yet down in the parlor, but the piano was on its eet and wide opeii, very much as i it were smiling because it was so glad to get there. Something stood on the piano, leaning its head against the wall, and it seemed to look at Lucille when she came hurrying in, ollowed by Mrs. Huyler and Sara. "Oh!" exclaimed Lucille. "My new violin! 0 Chris 0 Philip Father, aren't they good "Play something," said Philip excitedly; "I just wish you would." Oh, I can't she said; "not now." But Chris was swinging himsel upon the piano stool and in a moment more, as his fingers touched the keys, he said: "Now, Lucille!" There was no help or it, for nobody could dis appoint Chris just then, and Lucille took the violin

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THE END OF LAURENS STREET. 287 and bow that Philip held out to her. It was not her old friend, but it tucked under her chin in a very confidential, old-friendly way, and she relt acquainted with it the moment the bow made it speak. "This is fine exclaimed Mr. Gerichten, as Chris and Lucille struck up together a grand piece or music they both knew. Thank Gott I am glad we have got up out or Laurens Street. It is gone " 0 Philip '' said his mother. Do listen We shall be so happy "I guess I will," said Philip, "now I know what I'm going to do with myseH. I believe I was made to be a doctor." A long, sweet-sounding :flourish 0 the music ended and Chris wheeled around upon the piano stool. His face was beaming with pleasure as he saiJ: "Glad we are all here. Now I'm mended, I'm as good as new." New? exclaimed Lucille, I eel as i every .. thing were new." And so the old time passed away forever with the old street.

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D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. GOOD BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS. ON THE OLD FRONTIER. By WILLIAM 0. STODDARD, author of Crowded Out o' Crofield," Little Smoke," "The Battle of New York," etc. With IO full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $i.50. "A capital story of lif e in the middle of the last century .... The characters in4 troduced really live and talk, and the s tory r ecom m ends itself not onl y to b oy s and girls, but to their parcnts."-N. Y Times. "An exciting narrative. Mr. S t oddard s stories o f adventure are always of th e thrilling sort w h ich boys like most t o r ead This t a l e, which relates to the last raids of the Iroquoi s, is as stirring as the best of those which have come from his pen Pkiladelphia Evming-Bulletin. THE BOYS OF GREENWAY COURT. A Story of the Early Years of Washington. By HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH, author of "In the Boyhood of Lincoln," "The Log School-house on the Columbia," "The Zigzag Books," etc. With ro full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. "Mr. Butterworth has written an excellent book, and one that young p eop le will find delightful reading.''-Bos/011. Beacon "Skillfully co mbinin g fact and ficti o n, h e has given us a story historically instruc. tive and at the same time entertaining." -Boston Transcrij>t. r-::rouN BOYD'S AD VENTURES. l3y THOMAS J W KNOX, author of <;The Boy Travelers, etc. With 12 full page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $i.50. "Few modern authors write a more interesting story o f travel and adventure for boys than does Colo nel Knox. He always seems t o know just what the boys want to know, and h is chapters accordingly The whole story will h old the close attention of the reader." Clti'cago I"ter-Ocean. "The hero is ... alternately m erchant, sailor, man -o' -war's -ma n, privateer's man, pirate, and Algerine slave. The bombardment of Tripoli is a b r illiant chapter of a narra tive of heroic deeds."-Ph.iladeij>h.ia Ledger. PA UL JONES. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL, author of "Little Jarvis, " Midshipman Paulding," etc. With B full-page Illus trations. "Young Heroes of Our Navy" Series. r2mo. C l oth, $r.oo. "A concise, clear sketch o f the ranking office r o f the Continental marine, who in his day played a. large part, and did i t so well as to co mman d the applause of every patrionc American. To forget the name o f Paul Jones w o uld be an ac t of national rngratitude "-Ch.icago Inter-Ocean. "The writer is a t h ome on the decks of the old-fashioned craft. The a tmosphere is thoroughly salty. Numero us illu stratio ns depict the sce ne s of Paul J ones's hazardous adventures. S o good a sea story has not been writteq for a long time."-Ph.iladelpkia Ledger. New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.

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D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. GOOD BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS. C'JWWDED OUT 0' CROFIELD. By WILLIAM 0. STODDARD. The story of a country boy who fought his way to s uc cess in the great metropolis. With 23 Illustrations by c. T. HILL. "There are f ew writers who know h o w t o meet the taste! and needs of boys better than does William 0. Stoddard. This excellent story is interesting, thoroughly whole some, and teaches boys to be men, not prigs or Indian hunters If our boys would read m ore such books, and less o f the blood-and-thund er order, it would be rare good fortunc.''-Detroit Free Press. KING TOM AND THE RUNAWAYS. By Louis PENDLJ>TON. The experiences of two boys in the forests of Georgia. With 6 Illustration s by E. W. KEMBLE. "The doings of' King' Tom, Albert, and the h appy-go -lucky boy Jim on the swamp island, are as entertaining in their way as the old sagas embodied in Scandi. navian story."-Pltiladelphia Ledger. THE LOG SCHOOL-HOUSE ON THE CO LUMBIA. By HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH. With r3 full page lllustrations by J CARTER BEARD, E. J. AUSTEN, and others. "This b ook will c harm all who tum its pages. There are few books of popular information concerning the pioneers of the great Northwest, and this one is worthy of smcere praise .. -Seattle Post.Jntelligencer. WE ALL. A story of out-door life and adventure m Arkansas. By OCTAVE THANET. With 12 full-page Illus trations by E. J. AUSTEN and others. u A story which every boy wi .11. with un a ll oyed pleasure ... adven tur es of the two c o u sins are foll of exc1tmg int e r est. :rhe characters, and black, are sketched directly from n atu re for the author i s thoroug hly with the cu sto ms and of the different types of Southerners that she has so effective ly reproduced." -Boston Saturday Evening Gazette. LITTLE SMOKE. A story of the Sioux Indians. By WILLIAM 0 STODDARD. With 12 full-page Illus trations by F. S. DELLENBAUGH, portraits of Sitting Bull, Red Cloud, and other chiefs, and 72 head and tail pieces representing the various implements and s urroundings of Indian life "It is not only a story of but V?lume a?ounds in information conw c eming this most p o werful nf remammg Indian tnb es. 1 he work of the author has been well supplemented by th e Traveller. "More elaborately illustrated than any juvenile w ork dealing with Indian life ever published." -C!tur clt.ma n Uniform binding, cloth, s ilver. 12mo. $r.50 each. New York: D APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.

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! D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. GOOD BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS. ALONG THE FLORIDA REEF. By CHARLES F. HOLDER, joint author of "Elements of Zoology." With num ero u s Illustrations. The adventure s of this book d o not belong to the realm of ficti o n They are the actual happenings in the life of several boys The book would be jus t the one t o gi v e to pupils to awaken an interest in natural hist o ry. "-New York School 'fournal. "Th e reader will be en tertained with a series of adventures, but when h e is done he wlll find that he has learned a good d ea l about dancing cra n es, corals, waterspouts, s h arks, talking fish, disappearing island s hurricanes, turtles, and all sorts of wonders of the earth and sea and air."-New York Sun. "As excellent a juveni le for the large number of young people who like natural history mixed with their b o yish s t ories as has appeared this seaso n ."-Chi'cago Times. IN THE BOYHOOD OF LINCOLN. A Story of t he Black Hawk War and the Tunke r Schoolmaster By HEZEKIAH BUTTERWORTH, author of "The Zigzag Books," "The Log School-house on the Columbia," etc. With 12 Illustrations and colored Frontis piece. "There is great fascination in these g limp ses of l. .. i nc oln s early life and the artist's accompanying pictures are very cl ever and we lc ome."-B?'ook/yn Times. "The author presents facts in a most attr a cti ve framew o rk of fiction, and imbue s the whole with hi s peculiar humo r The illu stration s are numerou s aud of more tha n usual excellence."-New Haven Palladium. 7"\HE BATTLE OF .NEW YORK. By WILLIAM 0. STODDARD. With II full-page Illustrations and colored Frontispiece. uNo living writer surpasses William 0 Stoddard in the art of constructing a story to hold the interest of boy readers."-Pldlndtlphi'a brquirtr. Young who are interested in the ever thrillin g story of the gre
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D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. BOYS IN THE .MOUNTAINS AND ON THE PLAINS; or, The Western Adventures of Tom Smart, Bob Edge, and Peter Small. By W. H. RIDEING, Member of the Geographical Surveys under Lieutenant Wheeler. With IOI Illu s trations. Square Bvo. Cloth, gilt side and back, $2.50. "A handsome gift-book relating to travel, adventure, and field spo rts in' the West." -New York Times. 0 Mr. Rideiog's book is intended for the edification o f advanced young r eade r s. It narrate s the adventures of Tom Smart, B o b Edge, and Peter Small, in their travels through the mountainous region of the West, principal1y in Co lorad o. The auth o r was' a member of the Wheeler expedition, engaed in surveying th e Territories, and his descriptions of scenery, mining life, the Indians, games, etc., are in a great m easure derived fro m personal observation and experi ence. The volume is h andsome ly illus-. trated, and can not but prove attractive t o young readers.' -Chi'cago Journal. BOYS COAST WISE; or, All Along the Shore. By W. H. RIDEING. Uniform with "Boys in the Mountains." With numerous Illustrations. Illuminated boards, $1. 75. "Fully equal to the best of the year's h oliday books for boys .... Jn hi s present trip the author takes them among scenes of the greatest interes t to all boys, whether re s1denL'i o n th e coast or inland along the wharves of the m etro polis, aboard the pilot b oats for a cruise, with a look at the great ocean steamers, the life-saving men, coast wreckers and divers, and finally on a tour of inspection of lighthouses and llght s hip s 1 and other interesting p;iases of nautical and coast life."-Chrt'.stian Union THE CRYSTAL HUNTERS. A Boy's Adventures in the Higher Alps. By GEORGE MANVILLE FENN, author of "In the King's Name," "Dick o' the Fens," etc. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. "This is the boys' favorite author, an d of the many books Mr. Fenn has written for them this will please them the best. While it will not c o me under th e head of scnsation31 it is yet full of life and of those stirring adventures which boys always de light in."-Cltristi'att at Work. "English pluck and Swiss coolness are tested t o the utm os t in these p eri lous ex plorations among the higher Alps, and quite as thrilling as any of the narrow escapes 1 s the account of the firs t breathless ascent of a real mountain-peak. l t m atte rs little to the reader whether the search for cry s tals is rewarded or not, so concerned does he be ... come for the fate of the hunters."-Literary World. SYD BELTON: The' Boy who would not !(Oto Sea. By GEORGE MANVILLE FENN. With 6 full-page Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $1.50. "Who among the young public will not rejoice at the sight of the old c ombination, so often proved admira bl e a story by Manville Fenn, illustrated by Gordon Browne? The story, too, is o ne of the good ol d sort, full of life and vigor, breez iness and fun. It b egi ns well and goes on better, and from the time Syd joins hi s s hip, exciting incident s follow each other in such rapid a nd brilliant success i on that nothing short of absolute c ompu lsi o n would induce the reader t o lay it down -London Journai o.f Educati'on. New York: D APPLETON & co., 72 Fifth Avenue.

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D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. YOUNG HEROES OF OUR NAVY. PA UL JONES. By MOLLY ELLIOT SEAWELL, au thor of "Little Jarvis ," "Midshipman Paul d ing etc. With 8 full-page Illustratio n s l2mo. Cloth, $1.00. "The writ e r is a t home o n the d e cks o f the old-fashioned craft. The a tm osphere i! tho rou g hly s alty. Numero us illu s tration s d e pi c t the scenes of Paul J o n es's h a zardo u s adventures. So good a sea story has not been writte n for a l ong time."-Pkiladelplu a Ledg-er "It i s both romanc e and hist ory, and wlll reta in the attention o f either the boy o r man who b egi ns t o r ead thi s account o f the m ost dash in g sail o r th a t e ve r w ore a uniform. -St L oui's R epuhl iC. "A conci s e cl ea r sketch o f the ranking office r o f th e Continental marine, wh o in hi s day playe d a large part, and did i t s o w e ll as to co mm a n d th e a p p l ause o f e v ery p a tri o ti c American. To forget the name o f Paul J o nes w o uld be an ac t of n a tiona) in g ratit u d e."-C lt.icag o InterOcea n "No t m e r e ly a s interes tin g as any novel but a g oo d deal m o re inte resting than m ost Y o r k Examiner. MIDSHIPMAN PAULDING. A true story of the War of 1812. By MOLLY ELLI O T S EAWELL. With 6 full-p a ge Illustrations. l2mo. Cloth $1.0 0 "The hoo k give s an exce llent d escrip tion o f the battle of Lake Ch a mpl a in t o ld in such interes tin g s t y le, and so w ell blended with pers o n a l a d v enture, tha t every boy w ill del ight to read it and will unavoi dably r e m embe r i ts main fea tur es."-Spring lield Union. "The story is t o ld in a breezy, ple asant s tyle tha t can n o t fail to capture the fancy o f y o un g readers, a nd impa rts muc h hi s tori c al knowle dge a t the same tim e whil e the illustration s will help the o f the events des c ribed It i s an excellent b oo k for boys, and even the g irl s will b e intere s t e d in it "-.Brooklyn S tand ard-VnziJn "The author knows h o w t o t ell h e r s t o rie s t o captivate th e boys, and th e ch aracter o f h e r y oung hero es is such as t o el evate and ennoble the r e ad e r."-Hariford Evening P o st. LITTLE JAR VIS. The story of the h e roic mid shipman of the frigate Co n s t e llati o n." By M OLLY ELLI O T S EAWELL. Wit h 6 full-pag e Illus tration s l2mo Clo th, $1.00. "Founded on a true incident in our nava l hi s tory .... S o well p i c t u red as to bring both smiles and tears upo n the face s that arc bent over the v o lume. It is in exac tly the spirit for a b oy's boo k N e w Y ork H o m e j o u r n a l "The autho r m a k e s the tale strongly and simply p a thetic, and has given the world what will make it bette r." -Hartford Courant. N o t since Dr. Edward Everett Hale's cla s s i c 'The Man witho u t a Country,' has there be!n publi shed a more s tirrin g le ss on in p a tri otism."-.Bosto n Beac on "It is what a boy would call a real boy's' book ."-Ckarlesto n Ntws and Cou r i 'tr. "Any o n e in search o f a tho r o u ghly g ood bo o k for b o y s need look no further, for this ranks among the very best."J l1 t 1wauku Sentinel D_. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue, New York.

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D. APPLETON & CO.'S PUBLICATIONS. CAMP-FIRES OF A NATURALIST. From the Field Notes of LEWIS LINDSAY DYCHE, A. M., M. S., Professor of Zoology and Curator of Birds and Mammals in the Kansas State University. The Story of Fourteen Expeditions after North American Mammals. By CLARENCE E. EowORDS. With numerous Illustrations. 12mo. Cloth, $r.50. "It is not always that a professor of zoology is so enthusiastic a sportsman as Prof. Dyche. His hunting exploits are as varied as those of Gord o n Cumming, for example, in South Africa. His grizzly bear is as dangerous as the lion, and his mountain sheep and goats more difficult to stalk and shoot than any creatures of the torrid z o ne. Evi dently he came by his tastes as a hunter from lifelong experience. -New York Tribune. "The book has no dull pages, and is often interesting, and fulty in structive as to the habits, haunts and nature of wild beasts. -Clticago lnter-Ocea11. "There is of interesting. incident in addition to the scientific element, and the illustrati o ns are numerous and hi g hly graphic as to the big game met by the hunters, and the hardships cheerfully undertaken. "-Brooklyn Eagle. "The narrative is simple and manly and full of the freedom of forests ... This record of his work ought to awaken the interest of the generation growing up, if only by the contrast of his active experience of the resources of Nature and of savage life with the background of culture and the environment of educational advantages that are being rapidly formed for the students of the United States. .Prof. Dyche seems, from this account of him, to have thought no personal hardship or exertion wasted in his attempt to collect facts, that the naturalist of the future may be provided with c o m plete and verified ideas as to species which will soon be extinct. This is good work w ork that we need and that posterity will recognize with gratitude. The illustrations of the book are interesting, and the type is clear."-New York Timu. "The adventures are simply t o ld, but some of them are thrilling o f necessity, how ever modestly the narrator does his work. Prof. Dyche has had about as many expe. riences in the way of hunting for science as fall to the lot of the m ost fortunate, and this recountal of them is most intere s ting. The camps from which he w o rked ran g ed from the Lake of the Woods to Ariz o na, and northw est to Briti s h Columbia, and in every region he was successful in securing rare specimens for his museum."-Chica.g" Times. The literary construction is refreshing The reader is carried into the midst o f the very scenes of which author tells, not by elaborateness of description but by the directness and vividness of every sentence, He is given no opportunity to abandon the compani o ns with which the book has provided him, for incident is made to follow incident with no intervening literary padding. Jn fact, the book is all action."-Kansa.t City 'Jountal. As an outdoor book of camping and hunting this book a timel)f interest, but it also has the merit of scientific exactness in the descriptions of the habits, peculiarities, and haunts of wild animals." -Pltiladelf>hi"n Press. u But what is most imp ortant of all in a narrative of this kind-for it seems to uf that 'Camp-Fires of a Naturalist' was written first of all for entertainmentthese notes neither have been 'dressed up' and their accuracy thereby impaired, nor yet re' tailed in a dry and statistical manner. The book, in a word, is a plain nanative of adventures among the larger American animals ."-Plt.ilade!pkia Bulletin. "We recommend it most heartily to old and young alike, and suggest it as a bcauti fut souvenir volume for those who have seen the wonderful display of mounted animall at the World's Flair."-Tojeka Capital. New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 72 Fifth Avenue.


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