FullReads

‘The next moment the people burst into a shout of malicious joy, and I took away my hands, startled. Oh, bitter sight–he was swimming! My heart turned instantly to stone, to ice. I said, “He was guilty, and he lied to me!” I turned my back in scorn and went my way homeward.

‘They took him far out to sea and set him on an iceberg that was drifting southward in the great waters. Then my family came home, and my father said to me:

‘”Your thief sent his dying message to you, saying, ‘Tell her I am innocent, and that all the days and all the hours and all the minutes while I starve and perish I shall love her and think of her and bless the day that gave me sight of her sweet face.'” Quite pretty, even poetical!

‘I said, “He is dirt–let me never hear mention of him again.” And oh, to think–he was innocent all the time!

‘Nine months–nine dull, sad months–went by, and at last came the day of the Great Annual Sacrifice, when all the maidens of the tribe wash their faces and comb their hair. With the first sweep of my comb out came the fatal fish-hook from where it had been all those months nestling, and I fell fainting into the arms of my remorseful father! Groaning, he said, “We murdered him, and I shall never smile again!” He has kept his word. Listen; from that day to this not a month goes by that I do not comb my hair. But oh, where is the good of it all now!’

So ended the poor maid’s humble little tale–whereby we learn that since a hundred million dollars in New York and twenty-two fish-hooks on the border of the Arctic Circle represent the same financial supremacy, a man in straitened circumstances is a fool to stay in New York when he can buy ten cents’ worth of fish-hooks and emigrate.