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CHAPTER XI The Pet Horse Bob dug in the blades of his oars with all the force he could muster. The boat lost a little headway but the effort came too late. The current had them in its grasp. A quick rush in the blinding spray and the boys found themselves in the icy water. Bob, however, had kept hold of one of the oars of the overturned boat and he thanked his stars that Jerry had had the foresight to tie it to the oarlock. “You said something, my boy. The only trouble is I can’t keep him around. He’s been with me a dozen times but he always goes away again. Sometimes he ups and leaves overnight and then I’m out a foreman. But he knows he can always come back. When he is here he makes things hum. Besides, he’s the only man who can make the Chink cook a good meal.” Then he turned to Bob. “Soon’s we’ve had something to eat I’ll have one of the boys show you around the place. You must be hungry after your ride, ’specially if you’re not used to riding.”.

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“Go home now, like good children,” said Pilot Stiansen, as he untied the goat’s legs. “And don’t do anything like this again.” Julia, at length, retired to her chamber, but the sorrow which occupied her mind withheld the blessings of sleep. Distracted and restless she arose, and gently opened the window of her apartment. The night was still, and not a breath disturbed the surface of the waters. The moon shed a mild radiance over the waves, which in gentle undulations flowed upon the sands. The scene insensibly tranquilized her spirits. A tender and pleasing melancholy diffused itself over her mind; and as she mused, she heard the dashing of distant oars. Presently she perceived upon the light surface of the sea a small boat. The sound of the oars ceased, and a solemn strain of harmony (such as fancy wafts from the abodes of the blessed) stole upon the silence of night. A chorus of voices now swelled upon the air, and died away at a distance. In the strain Julia recollected the midnight hymn to the virgin, and holy enthusiasm filled her heart. The chorus was repeated, accompanied by a solemn striking of oars. A sigh of exstacy stole from her bosom. Silence returned. The divine melody she had heard calmed the tumult of her mind, and she sunk in sweet repose. A miller bequeathed to his three sons all he possessed of worldly goods, which consisted only of his Mill, his Ass, and his Cat. It did not take long to divide the property, and neither notary nor attorney was called in; they would soon have eaten up the poor little patrimony. The eldest son had the Mill; the second son, the Ass; and the youngest had nothing but the Cat. “It was four.”.