fro, when Meg saw her good old dog Watch eying the hasty embarkation. 2. "Oh, Watch must come!" she cried; "I can't leave him behind. Come, Watch! Watch!" she eagerly called. Oh, do come!" But Watch would not stir from his post of observation. 3. "It is of no use to call the dog, child!" exclaimed one of the men. 'We are more than full now." Meg, with streaming eyes, continued her entreaties; but all were too full of the one anxious purpose to save their own lives to heed her. 4. "I must kiss him good-by," sobbed Meg. "I am sure father would let me; and Kitty,—I must find her. She can go in my pocket." Meg painfully limped her way along, until she stepped from the raft to the shore. 5. Exhausted by the effort, she rested behind a log, when Watch with one joyful bound came to meet her. O Watch, you dear old fellow!" she cried, and, clasping both arms around him, hid her face in his shaggy neck, and wept as if her little heart would break. 6. But Watch did not fancy the embrace. He would not stand still, as was his wont, but, after his first joyful greeting, he kept bounding toward the shore, giving little quick barks, and then coming back to pull her dress as if to bid her follow him. 7. "Why won't you stand still, Watch, and let me hug you one little moment? for indeed I can't stay! Come, that's a dear old fellow!" But, instead of coming, Watch gave one bound toward the river, and commenced a terrific barking, running backward and forward, stopping only to shake energetically the old hood which Meg had unconsciously dropped 8. "I can stay no longer, not even for Kitty. I must leave you, Watch. Watch. I never saw you care so little for me before," cried Meg; and she began to drag her weary limbs back to the beach. 9. Absorbed with her grief at parting with her favorite, she did not at first notice that the loud voices calling to one and another were no longer heard, and not until her ear caught the sound of paddles did the danger of being left behind occur to her. 10. Making all haste, she reached the point where she had so rashly come ashore, to find herself indeed alone, with no possible hope of escape from the fiery death which awaited her. 11. At first she called with all her little strength, "Father! don't leave Meg!" She could only hear Watch swimming in the water not far off, though she could not see him; but from out the cloud of smoke that hung thick and heavy over the river came no answering voice. Meg's heart almost stopped beating as she thought of the horror of her situation. 12. Just then, finding his efforts to attract attention quite useless, Watch came ashore and ran to his little mistress for the caress he had so lately refused. "We will go to mother's grave, Watch, and die together," Meg exclaimed; and as fast as her exhausted strength would allow, she turned her steps back to the clearing. 13. Kitty met her on the way, and when Meg cuddled her on her arm purred contentedly as ever. Still farther on, her frightened squirrels came running to her as if for protection, and thus, with her little family of pets, she rested her aching head on the grass-grown mound which marked the spot where her mother was laid. 14. There she awaited the fearful, on-coming tempest of destruction. In the simple trust of childish faith, she repeated her little prayer, and was just covering her face, that she might shut out the fearful vision she momentarily expected, when she heard Watch barking fiercely. 15. Before she could call, there was a quick step at her side, and she was caught up, squirrels, kitten, and all, in the strong arms of Uncle Ben Wade. "Why, Meg," he exclaimed, "how in the world did you come here?" In a few moments Meg had answered his question. 16. "I must try and save you, my poor child; quick! we have not a moment to lose!" and before Meg knew it she was seated on the floor of Uncle Ben's clumsy wagon, with Watch beside her, and Uncle Ben lashing his fleet horses into a gallop. 17. Watch, now that there was some prospect of Meg's being saved, composedly rested his head upon his forepaws, with a conscious air of dignity. Meanwhile, Uncle Ben continued to urge on the horses, that indeed needed no urging, at a fearful rate over the rough forest roads, causing the wagon timbers to creak and crack, and almost snap. 18. Still that surging roar through the tree-tops, ever coming nearer and louder, sounded its fearful alarm in their ears. Em-bar-ka'tion. The act of going or | En-er-get'i-cal-ly. Vigorously. of putting on board a ship. Greet'ing. Salutation at meeting. Clear'ing. A tract of land from which the trees have been cleared off. A-wait'ed. Waited for; looked for. Pros'pect. A view of something distant; expectation. Surg'ing. Rolling, as a billow. In what State is the scene of this story laid? How did the people escape from the fire? Why did Meg leave the raft? How did Watch first try to save Meg's life? Where did Meg and her pets go? Who found them? Describe the ride to Millville. ör'di-na-ry "TH HE fire gains on us, Meg!" cried Uncle Ben, as they reached the tall pine-tree that marked five miles passed in this fearful race for life. "Go on, Sol! go, Jeff!" he shouted, and applied with fresh vigor his stout oak sapling, to increase their speed. 2. The terrified horses seemed to realize that this was no ordinary danger from which they were fleeing, and bent themselves nobly to their work. The smoke choked and blinded Meg almost to the point of strangulation ; but Uncle Ben, a clear, cool, and steady woodsman, seemed to pierce it with his eagle eye, and skilfully and safely guided his horses over rickety log bridges and stony ledges. 3. They had passed ten miles, and now the sparks fell in showers. Meg tried to brush them away as they dropped upon them in the wagon. She had all she could do to quiet Watch, whom the present state of affairs was making very uneasy. "We have scarcely any chance, Meg," replied Uncle Ben, in answer to her inquiry, "but we will do what we can." 4. The next five miles of road Uncle Ben knew were better, and beyond, the highway emerged from the forest through cultivated prairies, until it reached the only place where they could look for safety or help. But could they reach it? If they could but get out of these woods they might be saved, but the prospect seemed more than doubtful. 5. Just then glared behind them, yet miles away, their first sight of the solid, onrushing wall of fire. Meg hid her face in her hands, and though Uncle Ben felt that their case was almost hopeless, he still cheered on his frantic horses, whose strength and energy were yet unflagging. For a few moments they seemed to fly over |