those immense blades against the heavy resisting mass of the boat. John Cameron looked round again; then, with a quick motion he pulled his oar across the boat.

"Up with the sail, lad!" he shouted; and again he sprang to the halyards.

The seconds, few as they were, that were necessary to this operation, seemed ages; but no sooner had the wind got a purchase on the breadth of the sail than the boat flew through the water, for she was now running free.

"He has got him! I can see the two!" shouted the elder Cameron.

And as for the younger? At this mad speed the boat would be close to Macleod in another second or two; but in that brief space of time the younger Cameron had flung his clothes off, and stood there, in the cutting March wind, ready to spring overboard.

"This is foolishness!" his brother cried in Gaelic. "You will have to take an oar!"

"I will not take an oar!" the other cried, with both hands ready to let go the halyards. "And if it is foolishness, this is the foolishness of it: I will not let you or any man say that Sir Keith Macleod was in the water and Dunean Cameron went home with a dry skin!"

And Duncan Cameron was as good as his word; for as the boat went plunging forward to the neighborhood in which they occasionally saw the head of Macleod appear on the side of a wave and then disappear again as soon as the wave broke,—and as soon as the lugsail had been rattled down,-he sprang clear from the side of the boat.

For a second or two, John Cameron, left by himself in the boat, could not see any one of the three; but at last he saw the black head of his brother, and then some few yards beyond, just as a wave rolled by, he saw his master and the boy. The boat had almost enough way on her to carry her to them; he had but to pull at the huge oar to bring her head round a bit. And then he pulled, madly and blindly, until he was startled by a cry close by. He sprang to the side of the boat. There was his brother drifting by, holding the boy with one arm.

John Cameron rushed to the stern to fling a rope; but Duncan Cameron had been drifting by with a purpose; for as soon as he got clear of the bigger boat, he struck for the dingey, and got hold of that, and was safe. And here was the master, too, clinging to the side of the dingey, so as to recover his breath; but not attempting to board the cockleshell in these plunging waters. There were tears running down John Cameron's rugged face as he drew the three up and over the side of the big boat. Make a list of the accessories in this story.

See if you can not within a paragraph of 125 words tell about the things that really happened; but notice, too, how much more effective the story is as the author tells it. Study particularly the descriptive paragraph beginning "But it was a wild day to be out". This paragraph illustrates what is known as "aesthetic enforcement" by means of accessories. What do you suppose is meant by "aesthetic enforcement" of a story?

SHOOTING THE OSWEGO FALLS

(FROM THE "PATHFINDER")

JAMES FENIMORE COOPER

The vessel in which Cap and his niece had embarked for their long and adventurous journey was one of the canoes of bark which the Indians are in the habit of constructing. Its workmanship was neat; the timbers were small, and secured by thongs; and the whole fabric, though it was so slight and precarious to the eye, was probably capable of conveying double the number of persons it now contained.

JAMES FENIMORE

COOPER

Cap was seated on a low thwart, in the center of the canoe; the Big Serpent knelt near him. Arrowhead and his wife occupied places forward of both. Mabel was reclining on some of her own effects, behind her uncle, while the Pathfinder and Eau-douce stood erect, the one in the bow, the other in the stern, each using a paddle, with a long, steady, noiseless sweep.

Just at this moment a dull, heavy sound swept up the avenue formed by the trees, borne along by a light air that hardly produced a ripple on the water.

"That sounds pleasant," said Cap, pricking up his ears like a dog that hears a distant baying; "it is the surf on the shores of your lake, I suppose?"

"Not so, not so," answered the Pathfinder; "it is

merely this river tumbling over some rocks half a mile below us."

"Master Pathfinder, had you not better give the canoe a sheer and get nearer to the shore? These water-falls generally have rapids above them, and one might as well get into the Maelstrom at once as to run into their suction."

"Trust to us, trust to us, friend Cap," answered Pathfinder; "we are but fresh-water sailors, it is true, and I cannot boast of being much even of that; but we understand rifts, and rapids, and cataracts.”

"You do not dream of going down a waterfall in this egg-shell of bark!" exclaimed Cap.

"The path lies over the falls, and it is much easier to shoot them than to unload the canoe, and carry that and all it contains around a portage of a mile, by hand."

Mabel turned her pallid countenance toward the young man in the stern of the canoe, for just at that moment a fresh roar of the falls was borne to her ears by a new current of the air, and it really sounded terrific, now that the cause was understood.

"We thought that by landing the women and the two Indians," Jasper quietly observed, "we three white men, all of whom are used to the water, might carry the canoe over in safety, for we often shoot these falls.”

Cap was puzzled. The idea of going over a waterfall was perhaps more serious in his eyes than it would have been in those of one totally ignorant of all that pertained to boats; for he understood the power of the element, and the total feebleness of man when exposed to its fury.

Still his pride revolted at the thought of deserting the boat, while others not only courageously, but coolly, proposed to continue in it.

"Sheer in, Eau-douce, sheer in," said the Pathfinder; "we will land the Sergeant's daughter on the end of that log, where she can reach the shore with a dry foot."

The injunction was obeyed, and in a few minutes the whole party had left the canoe, with the exception of Pathfinder and the two sailors. Notwithstanding his professional pride, Cap would have gladly followed, but he did not like to exhibit so unequivocal a weakness in the presence of a fresh-water sailor.

"I call all hands to witness," he said, as those who had landed moved away, "that I do not look on this affair as anything more than canoeing in the woods. There is no seamanship in tumbling over a waterfall, which is a feat the greatest lubber can perform as well as the oldest mariner."

"Nay, nay, you needn't despise the Oswego Falls," put in Pathfinder, "for though they may not be Niagara, nor the Genesee, nor the Cohoes, they are enough for a beginner. Let the Sergeant's daughter stand on yonder rock, and she will see the way in which we ignorant backwoodsmen get over a difficulty that we can't get under. Now, Eau-douce, a steady hand and a true eye, for all rests on you, seeing that we can count Master Cap for no more than a passenger."

As soon as the boat was in the stream, Pathfinder sank on his knees, continuing to use the paddle, though it was slowly, and in a manner not to interfere with the efforts