“Yes; for years it lay under the bed of Darrel. By and by he put the money in a savings bank—all but a few dollars.”
“And why did he wait so long, before returning it?”
“He tried to be rid of the money, but was unable to find Thompson. And Trove, he lived to repay every creditor. Ah, sir, he was a man of a thousand.”
“That story of Darrel’s in the little shop—I see—it was fact in a setting of fiction.”
“That’s all it pretended to be,” said the old man of the hills.
“One more query,” said the other. He was now mounted. “I know Darrel went to prison for the sake of the boy, but did some one set him free?”
“His own character. Leblanc came to love him—like the other prisoners—and, sir, he confessed. I declare!—it’s daylight now and here I am with the lantern. Good-by, and Merry Christmas!”
The other rode away, slowly, looking back at the dim glow of the lantern, which now, indeed, was like a symbol of the past.
* * * * * *
A Tale of the North Country
By Irving Bacheller. Bound in red silk cloth, decorative cover, gilt top, rough edges. Size, 5 x 7 3/4 Price, $1.50
The most popular book in America.
Within eight months after publication it had reached its two hundred and fiftieth thousand. The most American of recent novels, it has indeed been hailed as the long looked for “American novel.”
William Dean Howells says of it: “I have read ‘Eben Holden’ with a great joy in its truth and freshness. You have got into your book a kind of life not in literature before, and you have got it there simply and frankly. It is ‘as pure as water and as good as bread.’”
Edmund Clarence Stedman says of it: “It is a forest-scented, fresh-aired, bracing, and wholly American story of country and town life.”
By Irving Bacheller, author of “Eben Holden.” Seven drawings by F. C. Yohn. Red silk cloth, illustrated cover, gilt top, rough edges. Size, 5 1/4 x 7 3/4 Price, $1.50. 160th Thousand.
The London times says; “Mr. Bacheller is admirable alike in his scenes of peace and war. He paints the silent woods in the fall of the year with the rich golden glow of the Indian summer. He is eloquently poetical in the lonely watcher’s contemplation of thousands of twinkling stars reflected from the broad bosom of the St. Lawrence, and he is grimly humorous in some of his dramatic episodes. Nor does anything in Crane’s ‘Red Badge of Courage’ bring home to us more forcibly the horrors of war than the between-decks and the cockpit of a crippled ship swept from stem to stern by the British broadsides in an action brought a entrance on Lake Erie.”