: Budd Boyd's Triumph; or The Boy-Firm of Fox Island by Chipman William P William Pendleton - Conduct of life Juvenile fiction; Fishing Juvenile fiction; Friendship Juvenile fiction; Country life Juvenile fiction; Avarice Juvenile fiction; Youth Conduct of l

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BUDD BOYD'S TRIUMPH.

It was a raw, cold, day in the month of March. Since early morning the clouds had been gathering, and they now hung dark and heavy over both land and sea. The wind, too, which had for hours been steadily increasing in violence, now blew little short of a gale. It evidently was going to be a terrible night, and that night was near at hand.

No one realized this more than the young lad, who, with a small bundle in one hand and a stout staff in the other, was walking rapidly along the highway that runs near the west shore of Narragansett Bay. He was a lad that would have attracted attention anywhere. Tall for his age, which could not have been far from sixteen years, he was also of good proportions, and walked with an ease and stride which suggested reserved strength and muscular development.

But it was the lad's face that was the most noticeable. Frank, open, of singular beauty in feature and outline, there were also upon it unmistakable evidences of intelligence, resoluteness, and honesty of purpose. A close observer might also have detected traces of suffering or of sorrow on it--possibly of some great burden hard to bear.

The lad was none too warmly clad for the chilly air and piercing wind, and now and then drew his light overcoat about him as though even his rapid walking did not make him entirely comfortable. He also looked eagerly ahead, like one who was watching for some signs of his destination. He drew a sigh of relief as he reached the foot of a steep hill, and said aloud:

"I must be near the place, now. They said it was at the top of the first long hill I came to, and this must be the hill."

As he spoke he quickened his pace to a run, and soon reached the summit, quite out of breath, but with a genial warmth in his body that he had not experienced for some hours.

Pausing now a moment to catch his breath, he looked about him. Dim as was the light of the fast-falling evening, he could not help giving an exclamation of delight at the vision he beheld. To the north and west of him he saw the twinkling lights of several villages through which he had already passed. To the east of him was the bay, its tossing waves capped with white, its islands like so many dark gems on the bosom of the angry waters. To the south there was first a stretch of land, and then the broad expanse of the well-nigh boundless ocean.

"It must be a beautiful place to live, and I hope to find a home here," he remarked, as he resumed his journey.

A few rods farther on he came to a farm-house, and turned up to its nearest door. As he was about to knock, a man came from the barn-yard, a little distance away, and accosted him:

"Good-evening!"

"Good-evening!" responded the lad.

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