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Archy was struck with his peculiarly grave and solemn manner. He kindly took the young boy's hand. "I have a few words to say to you, lad," he said. "I knew your father; he was a God-fearing man, and I believe he is in heaven. Your mother, too, is a Christian woman, and she, when she leaves this world, will join him there. Now lad, I have to ask you what is your hope?
Thus appealed to, the carpenter, with several men, set off with Andrew to the wreck, Archy accompanying his friend. After climbing over a number of huge masses of ice, they made their way to the opposite floe, which was now firmly united to the one it had struck.
Archy produced the tinder-box from the bucket, and in a short time a fire was blazing up, which served to warm their chilled limbs, and slightly to raise their spirits. Few of them, however, were disposed to talk much. Hour after hour passed by, and still there was no abatement of the storm.
He then put on another tier, gradually sloping inwards till a dome was formed, and lastly the keystone of the arch was dropped into its place. Archy, who was helping Andrew, remained with him inside, and were thus completely walled in. The carpenter, with his saw, then cut a hole to serve as a doorway, on the lee side of the hut. "We have yet got to form a bed and fire-places.
Andrew joined the latter party, and Archy, on account of his youth, was excused from dragging a sledge, he, however, carried his blankets and some provisions on his back, each man being also loaded in the same way. The snow having partially melted under the still hot rays of the sun, had again frozen, and had filled up all inequalities in the ice.
He abandoned the pursuit, and throwing himself upon the ground, vented his rage in a flood of tears. Dandy did not deem it prudent to approach him while in this mood, and he seated himself on a stump at a point where he could observe his master's motions. Master Archy was not cruel or vindictive by nature, and Dandy hoped that a few moments of rest would restore him to his equilibrium.
First the boat which they had dragged over so many leagues had been consumed for fuel, and then the sledge was piece by piece burned to give them warmth in their snow-hut during the night. Archy had held out bravely; Andrew had wonderfully been supported, ever with confidence seeking for aid from above, he felt that his own life and that of his companions depended on his exertions.
"Yes, Massa Archy, dem's um in de gym shum. Dat's jes what I say, massa in de gym-shum." "Go up and get them; and mind you don't keep me waiting all day," continued Archy, who was not equal to the effort of making the boy pronounce the word correctly. Cyd darted off with a speed that promised the best results.
There was a cowed look on the countenance of Sandy Redland as he bowed, while his young mistress rose to retire. Old Archy lifted up his hands, as if about to address her once more, then he turned slowly round.
It should be explained that Roger was a keen admirer of Don Marquis, the humourist of the New York Evening Sun. Mr. Marquis once lived in Brooklyn, and the bookseller was never tired of saying that he was the most eminent author who had graced the borough since the days of Walt Whitman. Archy, the imaginary cockroach whom Mr.
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