have worn my bunnit; but I ain't got no bunnit, an' if I had they

say I ain't got no head to wear it on!"

By the time the jam neared the falls it had grown with its

accumulations, until it was made up of tier after tier of huge

ice cakes, piled side by side and one upon another, with heaps of

trees and branches and drifting lumber holding them in place.

Some of the blocks stood erect and towered like icebergs, and

these, glittering in the lights of the twinkling lanterns, pushed

solemnly forward, cracking, crushing, and cutting everything in

their way. When the great mass neared the planing mill on the

east shore the girls covered their eyes, expecting to hear the

crash of the falling building; but, impelled by the force of some

mysterious current, it shook itself ponderously, and then, with

one magnificent movement, slid up the river bank, tier following

tier in grand confusion. This left a water way for the main

drift; the ice broke in every direction, and down, down, down,

from Bonnie Eagle and Moderation swept the harvest of the winter

freezing. It came thundering over the dam, bringing boats,

farming implements, posts, supports, and every sort of floating

lumber with it; and cutting under the flour mill, tipped it

cleverly over on its side and went crashing on its way down

river. At Edgewood it pushed colossal blocks of ice up the banks

into the roadway, piling them end upon end ten feet in air.

Then, tearing and rumbling and booming through the narrows, it

covered the intervale at Pleasant Point and made a huge ice

bridge below Union Falls, a bridge so solid that it stood there

for days, a sight for all the neighboring villages.

This exciting event would have forever set apart this winter from

all others in Stephen's memory, even had it not been also the

winter when he was building a house for his future wife. But

afterwards, in looking back on the wild night of the ice freshet,

Stephen remembered that Rose's manner was strained and cold and

evasive, and that when he had seen her talking with Claude

Merrill, it had seemed to him that that whippersnapper had looked

at her as no honorable man in Edgewood ever looked at an engaged

girl. He recalled his throb of gratitude that Claude lived at a

safe distance, and his subsequent pang of remorse at doubting,

for an instant, Rose's fidelity.

So at length April came, the Saco was still high, turbid, and

angry, and the boys were waiting at Limington Falls for the

"Ossipee drive" to begin. Stephen joined them there, for he was

restless, and the river called him, as it did every spring. Each

stubborn log that he encountered gave him new courage and power of

overcoming. The rush of the water, the noise and roar and dash,

the exposure and danger, all made the blood run in his veins like

new wine. When he came back to the farm, all the cobwebs had been

blown from his brain, and his first interview with Rose was so

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