Jasper County Democrat, Volume 10, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 August 1907 — QUEEN OF QUAGMOND. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

QUEEN OF QUAGMOND.

By Epes W. Sargent.

Copyrighted, 1907, by M. M. Cunningham.

Far out on the blue expanse of water two blade specks turned smaller and smaller in the distance. Now and then the early morning sun caugbt the broad blades of the oars with a glint like the flash of ft diamond, but presently the boats rounded the point of Indian island, and Nan turned to her aunt. "Well,” she announced briskly, “we are all alone for the day. Just think of that, auntie. We can imagine that we are original settlers and alone In the trackless waste.” Mrs. Edmond shivered at the suggestion. “Don’t, child!” she cried. “Is it not enough that we should be left alone?” “It’s the most delicious thing that has happened this summer,” declared Nan. “Just think of having the whole of this beautiful lake all to ourselves! I’m queen of Quagmond lake, and you are the dowager pueen, I guess. Let’s clear away the remains of our royal banquet.” Suiting the action to'the word, Nan briskly attacked the breakfast things, washing them In the tiny brook that went singing over the pebbles to the waters of the lake. It did not take long to dispose of the soiled things, and presently the girl turned to her aunt, her nut brown face glowing from the exercise. “What do you want to do, dear?” she demanded. “Whatever you wish.” Mrs. Edmond smiled into the radiant face softly framed in the masses of soft hair. "I suppose that we had better wait until Mr. Leland comes over.” “Wlut Leland Is not coming over,” said Nan decidedly. “I want to go somewhere now. Let’s take a lunch

and climb tbe mountain. It’s such a tiny mountain it won’t tire you. We can stop every little while. I hate to have to climb and climb and climb the way Wint Leland wants to.” “We will do it your way,” said Mrs. Edmond gently. “Shall we start at once?” “You’re the dearest auntie that ever was,” declared Nan as she planted an enthusiastic kiss upon the lady’s withered cheek and danced off to prepare the lunch. Mrs. Edmond noticed that tha girl kept scanning the lake and guessed the cause. Nan was afraid that In spite of the prohibition Winthrop Leland might come paddling around the corner, as he had done every morning ''since the Rankin camp bad been opened. The rest of the party would never have gone across the lake had they not supposed that Leland would be there to do squire duty. It was so like Nan not to let them know. There must hafe been a quarrel last night. She let her troubled glance wander out along the shore, but there was no sign of the canoe, and presently they tied the tent flaps and plunged Into the soft green of the woods. But even Squaw hill was something of a climb for Mrs. Edmond, and, as stops were frequent, it was welt past noon when they at last halted for lunch, establishing themselves Upon a grassy plateau divided by a tiny stream that later cut past the camp. Both were hungry, and the sandwiches quickly vanished, but neither made a move to go. Below, the lake glittered like a sheet of burnished silver In the glare of the sun, a giant salver framed In the changing green of the tree clad banks. Mrs. Edmond leaned back against the huge rock and sighed contentedly. Nan dropped down beside her and rested her head against her aunt’s knee. "It's lovely up here,” she said softly. "X wish that we didn’t have to go back —ever.” ~ “You would tire of it,” said the elder woman, with a smile. “You are too young and top active to turn recluse, Nan. Besides,” with an allusion to the girl’s speech that morning, “the queen should not seclude herself from her subjects.”. > “Not even when the subjects are unruly r Nan asked, with u sigh. "Then least of all," counseled Mrs. Bdgnond. “She should restore harmony to her subjects and show self truly a ruler. What was the matter last night, Nanr The girl started and ootaed at the

- i directness of the question. She had not meant such a literal application of her remark. - -• “Wint was horrid last night,” she said slowly, her glance directed toward the tiny Indian Island out in the lake. “He was so certain that we could not do without him that I told him not to come.” “And then?” A soft hand fell lovingly upon the girl’s soft hair. “And then he said he would 'come anyway, because he knew I never could run the camp alone, and I told him I was perfectly able to run the camp and care ior you and that I didn’t care if 1 never saw him again, and he said I probably never should? and then he went away and never even said good night.” “Did you expect him to come after your rudeness?” Mrs. Edmond’s voice gave no hint of the smile that was playing about her lips and In the corner of her eyes. Nan, looking straight out across the lake, did not see. “He might have been polite,” she said aggrievedly. “After you had been so discourteous ?” “Well,” she persisted, “he’s so important. Just as though I could not build a Are or cook bacon and things!” “It was verv good of him to want to help. I think yon should apologize to him,” she counseled sdftly. "I won’t,” said Nan mutinously. “Maybe,” relenting a little, “I shall speak to him again, If he’s very nice and bumble, but I shan’t apologize.” , “Then let us hope that he will not expect it,” suggested Mrs. Edmond. “Shall we go on?” And they resumed their climb. Nan was glad enough to rest before they reached the summit. “It’s different,” she explained as she threw herself on the soft moss, “when there is some one to help you up the rocks.” “Even men have their uses,” laughed Mrs. Edmond. “What a beautiful view we have from here!” “When you look out,” said Nan grimly, “when you look down and realize how far we have to go, I’m afraid it will be too much for you, auntie.” “Not at all,” said Mrs. Edmond bravely, but she shuddered as she glanced at the trees far below them. “It will be going down hill, you know.” “I’m always making trouble for people,” cried Nan penitently. “It’s a peculiarity of queens,” reminded Mrs. Edrooitd, “but it will be easy going down, dear.” It was not an easy matter, however, for presently the sun sank below the line of bills, and the trail through the woods was dark and lonesome. Nan had insisted that Mrs. Edmond take her arm where the trail made it possible, and, though the eider woman tried not to lean heavily upon the girl, Nftn’s shoulders ached. Suddenly Nan stopped and clapped her hands. “They're back!” she cried. “I’m so glad. I never could have cooked supper. I’ve been so worried about it—and so hungry!” She pointed ahead. Through the trees the firelight glinted upon the white walls of the tents, and already the grateful odor of coffee filled their nostrils. The thought gave them fresh strength, and they pushed ahead to the clearing, and Nan stopped short as Winthrop Leland sprang up from the shadows. “Piggy,” he called cheerfully, “not to let me In on the trip. I’m heaping coals of fire on your head, Nan. The coffee and bisenit are ready, and some of the finest trout you ever saw are waiting to be broiled. Supper will be ready by the time you’ve changed to moccasins and washed up.” “Wint,” said Nan fervently, “you are an angel, and I’m sorry I was cross last night.” Mrs. Edmond slipped Into the tent. The queen of Quagmond was about to abdicate in favor of a king, and she did not want to be present at the ceremony.

“I’M HEAPING COALS OF FIRE ON YOUR HEAD, NAN.