Toilers of the Golumbia
By PMJL. DB L.7LNEY
Tluthor of Lord of the Desert." Oregon Sketches."
and other Pacific Coast Stories
. CHAPIER V.
Hingwold and Sankala. .
"How did you make it at school to
day, my child?" :'
"Just fine, except that Hazel Seadog
was more rude than ever- My father,
I am kind to Hazel. . I dp not a'ntago-
. - i. ; : 1 1 j J. j rUa
mze uer jineiibiuiiBiiy, aim jci nuc
eeems to dispise me: She flaunts the
fact in niy face that her father owns
many fishtraps and has a cannery and
. . . I ; f a U a
mar mey are ricu, wnne my uiuti io
a common fisherman, is old and poor
and lives in a cabin, and they live in a
big house with glass w indows, and have
a piano.
"Father, I don't caie for this. I
am happy with you. I don't envy
Hazel, and why should she dispise me
a Dove all others?"
"My child, there is an intuition
sometimes that tells us more than we
know. There is often a guilty con
science that is handed down to posterity
and while the posterity knows not
what it is, it feels it keenly. In the
case between you and Hazel her intu
ition tells her that something is wrong;
that your existence is dangerous to her
welfare and yet she does not know
why. If you knew the facts, child,
you would understand, you would un
derstand!" "Tell me, father. Why does Hazel
feel this way toward me." ? -
"I will r.ot tell you all how, but I
can tell you much. I ji'ave a long
time contemplated telling you about
yourself, but you are yet young too
young to grasp the meaning of the
things of a wicked world.
"But you are old ' enough . now to
know who you are, who I am and what
the future may be to yon."
"Why, father, I know who I am.
I am Sankala, you are Father Ring
wold and my future shall be devoted
to my dear father. You know you are
getting too old to pull the boat, father,
find they say it does, not 166k so. well
for giris. to mingle with the fishermen,
but I ehalL'help you at the oars and
nets until I have completed my educa
tion and then ,1 will teach school, or
Keep books or do tomething that girls
should be respected for doing and take
care of my dear old father."
There was a long pause.- The griz
zled old man sat in one corner of the
cabin gazing into an open fireplace fed
by pieces of diitfwood cf various sizes
and length. These had been gathered
from the beach by the girl upon her
arrival from school.
As the child busied herself with the
dishes and light housekeeping the old
man eat deeply absorbed.- He. was
thinking of the past. An inky -darkness
prevailed outside. A stiff wind
burled sheets of mist upon the .'.roof
which fell fiom the "eaves in heavy
drops.
As the wind arose and whistled
around the corners of the cabin the
old man startled as if awakened
from terrible experiences of the past.
It was a small structure nestling rh
the tall timbers near the beach, scant
ily furnished. A few cook in 2 utensils
on the pen fireplace were used for pre
paring the meals. A large bed and a
small couch furnished the sleeping
quarters in the same room. Though
the place was much crowded, every
thing was kept as neat as a pin.
' 'The man was nearing his four score
and ten. The girl was a few days
past fifteen. She bore a refined air in
epite of her surroundings. Her cloth
ing was of the. cheapest kind, yet it
was clean. Her garments were not
made in the latest style, still they were
neat. Her hands and feet were small
though the former showed the marks
of toil. Her eyes were older than
those of most gills of fitteen, but- they
were no less beautiful. . They looked
deep into things with an intelligence
and innocence that commanded re
spect. "Yes, Sankala, I told you I would
tell you some but not all. TheSeadogs
do not like us. They do not know
why, but there is an intuition that
tells them we are dangerous to their
welfare. Those letters you have
brought me from the postoffice all
these years are bringing to a consum
mation the plans which have eo long
occupied my time. It., has been a
long and tedious duty but it shall be
performed ere the last spark shall leave
me. ..--
"Sankala, you have been" -told the
story of the shipwreck by the old
, women time arid again. I have seldom
spoken of it. It is a link in the story
of your life thafia of the greatest im-
portance to you.
"I am the only person living that
knows you. I am the only person
living that knows the facta which shall
some day make you Jree from poverty
Which shall enable you to live the life
that you deserve will enable you to
complete your education and to out
shine Hazel Seadog and all of the Sea
dog family.
- "They are sailing under false
plumes, Sankala, they are sailing un
der false, plumes, ...Theyr arewearing
that which of right belongs to others
"Sankala, I have always . passed as
vnnr father. I love you better than a.
father ever loved his child. The idea
prevails among the fisherman that only
your mother was arownea ana that
your aged father, who had taken
young wife at 'th age of three score and
ten bad clutched yon in my arms at
tha last, mimfkn t &nd that fate had cast
us ashore. "
"We were cast ashore together, it is
true, you a five-weeks old babe in my
arms, but your mother and father, both
went down to a watery grave."
"But you are my father now," broke
in Sankala. "I love you as my father
and ehall always love you as such.'
"That is true, my child, that isjtrue,
but your real father is dead. It is this
that places a heavy responsibility upon
you and me. Your father was much
wronged and it is left to you and me
to right the wrong. Should I continue
to live, Sankala, I will right the
wrong, but should I die the duty falls
upon you. You are young, I know,
but you already possess a woman's in
telligence and with the data before you,
you will be able to complete the plans
which I have inaugurated, Bhould the
worst come. I am failing rapidly,
Sankala, I am failing rapidly."
"But you will live, father, you will
live," sobbed the girl.
"I intend tor my child, but should
I fail you must finish the work. Un
der the hearth there is concealed, a
small box. It is a small metal affair,
but contains much of interest to you.
It contains evidence, Sankala, that
shall some day make you the queen of
the fishing village. It will do more
Sankala, it will enable you to travel
and to see the great world.
"I shall never forget your mother's
dying. request., -It was on that fearful
nightfjuBt fifteen years ago when the
old ship made such a gallant fight on
the bar and finally went aground on
Sand Island. :
"Your father was assisting the sail
ors and had been swept from the deck.
You were bornj aboard the ship after
we bad left nhe old country. The
ship's surgeon had given a certificate
of your birth. Your mcther knew how
important that certificate was, San
kala. and when all were lost but the
captain and you and I; she came to me
and threw you into my arms. She had
imbedded the certificate of your birth
in wax and thrust this deep into the
inside pocket of my vest. She said,
calling me by my right name?
'1 have a presentiment, iou win
live and rescue the child. I will be
lost. Upon the very eve of reaching
the place we so long sought, my poor
husband went down in sight of his own
wealth. I muBt surely follow. Take
her, my dear friend, take the child and
see that she gets what belongs to her.
In the name of Him who will reward
you, I beg" you to be brave and do that
for which you are now intended.'
"In -a .few minutea.all was lost.
"God spared me the sight of seeing your
mother go. I lashed myself to a spar,
clutched you in my arms with the grip
of death and became unconscious, as
the sea cut the lemaining timbers
from the vessel."
CHAPTER Xt.
Disturbed Peace of the Seadoga.
"I do not know why it is, husband,
but our Hazel, young as she is, is wor
rying a great' deal. That girl. Sankala,
disturbs her peace of. mind. She does
not like her. The poor girl is kind to
our Hazel and all of that but our child
seems to have a most natural antipathy
for her.
"Sankala is the most popular girl at
school. The teachers love her, the
girls run after her and the boys wor
ship her. They look upon her as some
superior being and yet ehe is only a
poor little waif that you remember was
ast ashore here many years ago.
"Old Ringwold, her father, is drink
ing more and more whenever . he can
get it, and the child, poor thing, much
as as she disturbes our Hazel, seems
more devoted to the old man every
day.
"It would be better for her if he
should die, but then it would almost
kill her, for the poor thing worships
the old fellow. But it would be bad
for the village if Ringwold should die.
There would be no one to fill the diffi
cult prescriptions at the drug store and
I do not know what poor Goenell would
do without him.
"Do you- know, husband," spoke the
woman more cautiously, "I do not like
that girl Sankala. She is all kindness
and deserving, but I do not like the
child. Her name disturbs me and
when I see her a peculiar feeling comes
over me which I cannot explain. I do
not wish the girl bad luelr, but I do
wish that something would-" -take her
away from the village where I could
not see her and where she would not
disturb our Hazel."
Thus spoke Mrs. Seadog, the wife wf
old Seadog. the ruling power in the
creat fisheries on the north side of the
Columbia river near its mouth. V;
' 'I do not like the kid either, wife,"
said the rugged old capitalist, who had
made his wealth in various ways. He
had pulled oars through the storm-driv
en waves. He had sold goods over, the
counters of his great store at enormous
profit. He had dispensed whisky over
his bar that was said to have been of
his own make and was warranted to
contain snakes to the Quart; he had
thrown Chinamen from his cannery in
to the bay because they did not earn
ten times their wages ; be had robbed
the fish traps of bis neighbors, stolen
their property rights by night, and was
charged with having sent gillnetters to
the bottom of the river. Upon all of
this, old Seadog "bad built up aa im
mense fortune, but it was whispered
about that he had come to the wealth
which constituted the foundation of his
fortune through, some foul : means the
details of which were shroudeu in mys
tery. . " ; -.: . . ' - -' :
";. "No, I do not like the kid, either,"
he continued. -"And much less do I
like the old bunch of mystery who is
known as her father.
"Do you know that when I learned
that they had drifted ashore from that
vessel, he more than half dead and she
but little more than spawn, I felt an
noyed by it. In spite cf the fact that
there conld be no harm in .them I
would rather that all on beard should
have been lost at the time. -And it ie
remarkable that the oldest' and young
est should have-survived the very ones
that untier the laws of nature should
have been lost. ' The weakest-, are ac
counted' lost on such occasions tinder
the law, yet thai . old duck and the
young minnow broke the record..
"I don't like to think of-those times,
and yet I do. My trial ' for, boarding
that wreck gave me a close call. In
spite of the fact that it was shown that.
I did not attempt to carr away any of'
the valuables, and I made the plea that
the boys and I were only trying to save
life, there was a strong suspicion that
we had some wicked motive in board
ing the wreck and the jury hung out
on the case until things looked shaky. .
"Then it has its pleasant side. Up
on that wreck I found the evidence that
put my mind to rest forever on one
point that is, it should have done so.
I found the evidence of the death of the
only person living who could disturb
me here. He went to the bcttom of
the sea. I knew he was on the vessel
beyond all reasonable doubt .and when
I found his name on the ship's register
then all questions were settled.
"When I lound a woman's name on
the register identical with that of his
own I did not understand.- But upon
investigation I found that he was mar
ried a year before eailing and this
cleared all matters on this point. She
went to the bottom of the sea with
him.
"I first had fears that this Sankala
might have been of their isiue, but I
find from the Chip's register that one
Ringwold and his wife and child were
aboard and since old Ringwold claims
her that set all doubts stialght on this
point.
"Ringwold was very old at the time,
but he appearB to have had a younger
wife. Besides the old fellow is half
crazy and does not Know what he is do
ing half the time.
"But if this Sankala should have
been the 'child of the son of my only
brother, she could never prove it. All
records not in my possession are de
stroyed. But, still I am like you. I do
not like either - the old man or his
daughter. She gives me that same feel
ing of uneasiness or rather unpleas
antness and he, well, he reminds me of
a rival of the olden time.
"That rival was about his height,
but he was slender and stood high in
life. He was even a druggist to the
czar, Isut 1, a mere commoner, won
out over him and it cost me my coun
try. I had to escape by flight and
come to America.- He swore vengeance
on me and I should tremble in my
shoes were I sure he is living today.
'This Ringold has eyes like the fel:
low and I do not like him for this reas
on. But he as a different kind of man.
He was quick niotioned, had a springy
step, wore no beard and kept his hair
cut short.
"But Ringwod is like him in another
characteristic, though a mere imitator.
While Ringwold is considerde an expert
prescriptionist for this fishing village
my rival was the best chemist of all
the Russians. The cazr prized him
above all others. No other could fill a
prescription foi his family. His posi
tion was that of royalty."
"What rivalry existed between you
and this man. my husband ?" inquiied
the interested wife.
"Oh, it is a long story, my dear.
There was not a woman in it. There
goes woman's curiosity. But, never
mind, I will tell you the story anothei
time.
"But this Sankala and the old fel
low! He is getting old and cannot last
much longer. When "he is dead the
girl will have nothing to keep her
here. She can do us no harm ; Dut
still, I would like to see them away.
They seem to be a menace to the peace
of the Seadog family."
(To te continued)
Nothing White There. .'
; Albert, the young man of the. fam
ily, was undeniably ill. The doctor
was sent for. He pronounced it a case
of jaundice, as indeed the parents' nad
suspected, from the patient's yellow
ish appearance. -
Albert's little sister was explaining
to a .caller.
"lie's got the yaUer janders," she
said., " '-The doctor says so."
"But how could the doctor tell, Bes
sie?" asked the caller.
"Easy? enough," replied Bessie.
"Anybody could tell if by jes' lookin'
Into therj-the yelks of his eyes."
f
f' .Tbe Lessor of Two Erila.
Nervous" Passenger (as the train stops)
I say, conductor, are those two men
taking a straw vote? - . -Conductoc
No; they are taking up a
collection. Train robbers, you know. -
Nervous Passenger Oh, then "it isn't
as" bad as I suspected.
-":-
All Beta Off.
Miss Lakeside (of Cleveland) You
can just bet your sweet life that "Til be
wearing "an " engagement .ring before th
end of the season; -
Miss Browning of Boston) Excuse
me, but I do not care to wager my sac
charine vitality.-
How He Got It.
Binks Queer that Charley Mohter
could acquire euch an "automobile face.
He never drives his machine over eight
miles an hour.
.... Jinks I know, but he got it when his
first month's bill for the repairs came in.
Cincinnati Commercial Tribune,
TO MY. MOTHER.
Deal sentry with her, Tims; these many
; v years f . -. .
Of life hare brought mora smiles with
' them than tears,. i
Lay not thy hand too harshly on her,
- -.- new.
But trace decline "so slowly eri her brow
That (like the sunset of the Northern
clime, - : -
Where the twilight lingers in the- sum
mer time,. '-; ; .. ; . ryy; .."
And fades at last into the silent night.
Ere one may note the . passing of the
light), .. .-.-'-.. .-
So may she pass since 'tis the common
' krt-r- .. . :
As. one .who, resting, sleeps and knows it
not.
John . Allan Weyth in the Century.
smile, as her husband entered
theii? studio, they termed It, but as
a matter "of fact it was their garret
and the only room they had.
He shook his head wearily as he
placed the canvases on the .table?'" '-
'The dealers are full up, and I
haven't sold one." .
"Never mind." she answered, tender
ly "luck must change soon."
"Heaven only knows that ours has
been black enough since we married."
Dearest," she said, reproachfully.
and she gathered closer to her breast
the sleeping child, whose face was so
dear to her. with the blue eyes of her
husband and its halo of fair, curling
locks, "there is little Ruth."
Marmaduke Sefton gazed moodily
into the fire. His thoughts were far
from pleasant ones. Until four years
ago he had never known that dread
feeling of want His father. Sir Mar
maduke Sefton, a very wealthy man,
had completely spoiled him. Not a
wish remained unsatisfied, and his al
lowance was a princely one.
This bringing up had the usual re
sult. Duke made up his mind that he
was an artist and nothing would ehake
him in this connection.
Not even the threat of his father's
dire displeasure would persuade him
to throw down his brush;
There is no doubt that In time Sir
Marmaduke would have relented, and
have countenanced his son in his ar
tistic ambition, but as luck would have
It, Duke went into the country to paint
landscapes. There he met Ruth, his
wife, the daughter of the vicar, and at
once proceeded to make love. A few
weeks afterward he proposed to her
and was accepted.
Sir Marmaduke did not ragp when
the engagement .was announced to
him. . He wrote a few lines.
"Marry this., girl and I have done
with you. Not a sou will you have.
The choice remains with you."
Duke did make his choice and mar
ried. The inevitable occurred and lit
tle Ruth was the crowning blessing to
a'happy:marrJage.Not for two years
did-they begin,, to. feel .'the pinph of
poverty. The ready money' which he
had and the realization of his Jewelry
kept them going for that length of
time. But the last six months had
been a weary fight with" starvation'. -
Their "studio" cost theni four shil
lings a week an attic off the Gray's
Inn road and their food cost them of
ten less. Their thin faces and wearied
smiles were speaking evidence of their
Ufa But little Ruth's bonny face bore
signs of a mother's love and care.
"There is plenty of lard and pota
toes, let us fry them," Ruth said,
cheerfully,' as she placed the child on
her bed.
The next morning they were awak
ened by the child's chatter. The sun
was shining brilliantly through the
windows of the roof. . ; .
"I will go the rounds again," he
said, as he took up his canvases. "I
will be back soon with your breakfast,
I hope, darling. Good-bye, little one."
There were tears In his 'eyes as he
leaned to kiss his little girl.
His wife stood looking at the open
doorway, through which her husband
had disappeared. . Then, with a, sigh,
she started cleaning their room.
The little one looked on for a while.
In a few moments she grew tired and
wandered to the landing head. She
walked down a few steps. ,
Her mother went on with her work,
now and then stopping for a moment
to dash the streaming tears from her
eyes.,
Little Ruth reached the street
"Which way did. dad go?" she lisped
to herself.
After a moment's hesitation she
turned to the left "A" hundred yards
ahead she reached Theobald's road
arid toddled along in the .direction of
Oxford street ... .
'I find him -soon-r-dad, dear dad. He
is crying, poor dad," she murmured.
- A sudden run to cross the street a
shriek, 'the pulling up-iof horses, and
the little one lay motionless In the
arms of a kindly policemarv A quar
ter of an hour afterward she was be
ing atended to by the hoarse surgeon
of a neighboring hospital. -
"A simple fracture of the arm," he
remarked to the nurse. "It was a
providential escape."..
"What's your .name, little one?" he
asked. - .
"Ruth Sefton," she answered, obe
diently. "Where do you live?" was his next
question.
"Far away,' up high," she replied,
pointing with her hand to the ceiling.
"What is the name of the street?"
"Ruth" doesn't know," she answered
decidedly. - -
"What is your father's name?"
asked th nurse at a hazard.
i 1 toni oi the on. ii
END OF THE STRAW HAT SEASON.
Peregrination Pete These will
winter Cincinnati Post
"Marm'duke Sefton," -she replied,
proudly, and then cried and moaned
with . the pain. ! -
A few minutes later Sir Marmaduke
Sefton was called to the telephone.
"Halloa!"
"What?"
"A child injured? Why do you tele
phone me? Father's name
Marmaduke Sefton? Am I the only
one in the world? The name
is certainly an uncommon one, as you
say."
His stern face softened for' a mo
ment "Yes, I'll come round," he said, at
last
A quarter of an hour afterward he
entered the children's ward. His face
turned white as he. gazed into the
child's blue eyes.
; "Private ward, please," he said, curt
ly, and at the millionaire's word the
little one was taken into another
room. .
While little Ruth slept Sir Marma
duke stayed by her side looking medi
tatively at her face.
Duke Sefton returned In about an
.hour to his house. There was a smile
on his face as he entered.
"One sovereign. We shall .have a
bust, darling."
But his wife was lying In a faint on
the floor. Quickly he brought water
for her,, but when she came round .she
began to shriek wlldlyv
"Little Ruth has gone," was all she
could sayl
Then ensued twenty-four hours of
agony to the distracted parents. In
the morning j a policeman came and
told them where the child was.
They rushed round to the hospital,
but when they "were received with the
utmost respect and taken to a private
ward they wondered excedingly.
" With a tearful cry Ruth ran to her
child and crooned over her. Duke
knelt by the other side of the bed.
"Look!" cried little Ruth. "He says
that he is your dad. Why don't you
kiss him?"
A tall figure stepped from the corner
of the room
"Duke; forgive me," Sir Marmaduke
broke in, eagerly, and there was a
tone in his voice that made his son
wonder.
For a moment there was silence.
"Kiss him, dad," the child cried.
And the two men's hands met in a
hearty grasp, while the mother's tears
fell over the child's pillow. Illustrated
Bits. -
JONAH AND THE WHALE.
etails of His' Experience from Rab
binical Legends.
When Jonah went to Joppa he found
no ship,, for the vessel on which he in
tended taking passage had sailed two
days before his arrival; but God
caused a contrary wind to arise and
the ship was driven back, to port tn
his joy Jonah paid his passage money
in advance, contrary to the usual cus
tom, which did not require payment
until the conclusion of the voyage. Ac
cording to some, he paid even the full
value of the ship, amounting to 4,000
gold denirIL , When the storm arose
the kind-hearted sailors, evidently re
specting the rich passenger, first low
ered Jonah only far enough for the
water to reach his knees. Seeing that
the storm subsided, they drew him
back into ' the ship, whereupon the sea
at once arose again. The sailors re
peated the operation several times with
the same, result each, time lowering
him deeper and deeper, until finally
they threw him into the sea.
The fih which, swallowed Jonah was
created in. the very beginning of the
world for that special 'purpose. There
fore this fish had so large a mouth and
throat" thar"'Jonah found' It' as easy to
pass into Its belly .as he -'would have
found it to enter the portals of a. very
large synagogue. It had eyes which
were as large as windows and .lamps
lit up its interior. According to anoth
er .opinion, a great pearl suspended In
the entrails of the fish enabled Jonah
to see all that was in the sea and In the
abyss. The fish informed Jonah that
he was to; "be devoured by Leviathan.
Jonah asked to be taken to tbe mon
come In handy when I go South for the
ster, when he would save both his own
life and that of the fish. Meeting Le
viathan, he exhibited the "seal of Abra
ham," whereupon the monster shot
away a distance of two days. To re
ward him for this service the . fish
1. i T I. .3 MA n
in the ocean (e. g., the path of the Is
raelites across the Red Sea; the pillars
upon wmcn me eartn resraj.' thus ne '
spent three days and three nights in
the belly of the fish, but would not
pray. God then resolved to put him
into another fish where he would,, be
less comfortable. Cramped for room
andotherwise made miserable, Jonah
finally prayed, acknowledging the fu
tility of his efforts to escape from God '
(Psalm cxxxlx). From volume 8 of
Jewish Encyclopedia, just published by
the Funk & Wagnalls Company.
MAILS IrVlM.E OFyWAR
Puzzling Questions . Raised by- Recent
The present war bids fair to lead to
some fuller understanding concerning
the status of the malls In time of war,
says the New York Tribune. Russia
and Japan are both apparently acting
upon the theory that all mails consign
ed to a belligerent port are subject to
seizure as contraband of war, or at
least to detention and search. Japan
has contented herself with the seizure
pf malls sent out f rom Port Arthuj:.
uussia iias gone iuxicu laxuuei luau
that In stopping' British aud Germain
ships in the Red Sea and taking from
them in bulk all mail sacks marked for
Japan.
The status of the malls In time of
war has been the subject of much con
troversy, but has not been clearly de
fined in treaties or In works on inter
national law. Hostile dispatches, mili
tary orders and the like, excepting the
messages of ambassadors, have been
recognized as contraband and, of
course, subject to seizure. Not only is
the transportation of them equivalent
to the carrying of contraband goods,
but the fraudulent transportation of
them is regarded as a peculiarly hostile
act subjecting the offending vessel to
the severest penalty of confiscation.
Such Is the argument of Sir William
Scott But a regular mall-carrying ves
sel, which receives such dispatches in
the ordinary course of mail carrying,
in Ignorance of their character. Is not
according to Hautefeuille, subject to
penalty. The principles apply,t of
course, only to hostile dispatches. Or
dinary maila of commercial, personal
or other non-belligerent character
should certainly enjoy a different stat
us and would seem to be entitled to
exemption from seizure when under a
neutral flag. 1;
Mr. Seward long ago expressed the
American view of the case when he
said that "there is no recognized sanc
tion of the principle that a bona fide,'
authenticated and sealed public mall
of a friendly or neutral power, found
on a commercial vessel navigating be
tween, two neutral ports,, (fan be vio
lated lawfully, either by a naval officer
or a prize court, merely because the
vessel on which It is found is searched
and seized as contraband." V '
A Worikey's Intelligence.
Jin extraordinary Instance of 'the in
itelligence of a monkey in, the -goyal
Park. Melbourne, Australia, has -been
chronicled. A fnonkey in a largecage
was trying to reach' a nut which had
been thrown down' onr'the 'graved path.
Putting its arm tiirougbHbe-baftes and
Stretching k far:aa:sosslbie,:it..-found
-that the nnt was Jua heyopd bis .reach.
There- was Jrtjraw on.! the.jaopr of. the
cage,- an$, going to tne DacK, Where it,
Evidently, e'xpfed ito., flnd 'jtn :'srraw
1ms damaged.1 -it tested ' 'straw 'tter
straw. dlseadjbg tbem.ojua by one not
thinking them - strong .enough for, the
purpose. -!fftIafVit -found a.satlsfac
tory one, returned with it to the front
of the cage, and very quickly, with this
aid, hotfked the nut close enough to be
picked up. . .
Old people sometimes complain, be
cause they are left alone so much, bnt
the truth is that they would be bored;
to death if the young people' tried to ,
entertain them.
7