The Little Manx Nation - 1891

of the castles of that early day. It was really an immense affair, and there were certain turrets and a tower which carried out the feudal idea. Its build

rrored the mountains that hemmed it in. With Constance he sat on the comfortable steps, looking through the tall spruces at the wa

for the distribution of the daily mail. Robin had gone, too, striding away

l place, Conny. I have never seen anything so splendid as this for

ok this offense. She began arranging the contents of her basket on the step

you in the least, but to me it is a fascinating study. Perhaps if I pursue i

variegated array

don't mean to eat an

but see how bea

to lemon yellow-pink that blended into shades of red and scarlet-gray that deepened to blue and even purple-numerous shades of buff and brown, and some of the mottl

ch mushrooms in the world-so beautiful. I know now wha

, nervous woman, hurried toward Mr. Weatherby with evident pleasure. She had been expecting him, she declared, though Constance had insisted that he would think twice before he started once for that forest isolation. They would

e to climb at all. He has already declared against my mushrooms. He said something just now about the

rded the young

s. She's persuaded me to eat some of those she had cooked, and I've sent to New York for every known antidote for mushroom poisoning. It's all right, perhaps, to study them and colle

ot wanting to be a doctor, something about

eally think it's sinful for you to meddle with such uncertain subjects.

he nervous little

gh, I believe, but they are of a kind that even experts are not always sure of. They are called Boleti-almost th

one of the brightl

Boletus speciosus-that is, I think it is." She opened the book and ran hastily over

t tell the difference. Now, how are we going to know when we are being poiso

, Mamma; we a

poison hasn't b

the best authorities, some hours ago.

eane g

ly any authorities in this awful business? And she has b

and rest in this deep forest isolation. There were brain-workers among them-painters and writer folk. Some of the faces Frank thought he recognized. In the foreground was a rather large woman of the New Engl

gay collection. "The' ain't a single one of 'em a mushroom," she proceeded. "We used to have 'em grow in our paster, an' my little nephew, Ch

lt it necessary to present Frank to those nearest, whom she knew. He arose to make acknowledgments. Wit

tend to eat them tudstools, do you? Charlie wouldn't a et one o' them kind fer

s Carroway's hands and ga

th about mushrooms. Not the whole truth, but an important one. All toadstools are mushrooms and all mushrooms are toadstoo

nterested, but incredulo

nderneath-not pores, like this one. The gills are like little leaves and hold the spores, or seed as we might call it. The pores of

in was lemon color, but almost instantly, with exposure to the air, began to change, and was pres

Frank. "You are be

n harmless. Some are poisonous. One of them, the Satanus, is regarded as deadly. I don't thin

ance at the lecturer and sweepin

I sh'd think not! I wouldn't eat that, ner

ent of recklessness avowed his faith by declaring that upon Miss Dean

mented Miss Carroway; whereupon the discussion became g

annot claim serious attention, even upon

would better arrange for accommodations and make myself presentable. By the way, Constance," lowering his voice, "I saw a striking-looking girl on the veranda as we were approaching the house a while ago. I don't think y

g veranda, and Constance waited until the

resent you at the first opportunity so that you may lose no time falling in love with her. It will do you no good, though, for she is going to mar

e said they were a handsome pair. I fully agree with him." The young man smiled down at his companion and added: "Do

ed necessary, Frank thought, and an add

ense a savage or even uncultured. Far from it. Her father is a well-read man for his opportunities. They have a good many books here, and Edith has learned the most of them by heart. Last winter she taught school. But she has the mountains in her blood, and

r curiously,

untains, even in March. One might almo

then in lighter tone added, "and I should not wish to get in Ed

ome measure carried out the Anglo-Saxon feudal idea. The floor was strewn with skins, the dark walls of unfinished wood were hung with

and in the life that goes with them, one is apt to imbibe a good d

rd them with step as lithe and as light as an Indian's. There was something of the type, too, in her features. Perhaps in a former generation a

ially, "this is Mr. Weatherby,

ted. Her face, too, conveyed a certain gratification in his arrival-almost as if here were an expected friend. He could not help wondering if this was her

pecial favor. Perhaps, after a

r a week or more-gathered with her father and herself before the great log fire in the hall while the winds howled and the drifts banked up against the windows, gleaning from the Lodge library a knowledge of such things as books can teach-history, science and the outside world. Then had come the time when he had decided on a profession, when, with his hoarded earnings and such employment as he could find in the college town, he had begun his course in a school of engineering. The mountain winters without Robin had been lonely ones, but with he

e other. Edith remembered, of course, that he had known the Deanes, long before, when the Lodge was not yet built. Like Constance, she had only been a little girl then, her home somewhere beyond the mountains where she had never heard of Robin. Yet her intuition told her that the fact of a long ago acquaintance between a child of wealthy parents and the farm boy who had sold them produce and built toy boats for the little girl could not have caused this difference now. It was nothing that Constance had engaged Robin to guide her about t

rl was taller than she, and fairer. Her face was richer in its coloring-she carried herself like one of the noble ladies in the books. Oh, they were a handsome pair-and not unlike, she thought. Not that they resembled, yet something there was common to both. It must be that noble carriage of which she had been always so proud in Robin. There swept across her mental vision a splendid and heart-sickening picture of Robin going out into the world with this rich, cultured girl, and not herself, his wife. The Deanes were not pretentious peo