File:Lincoln centennial number (1909) (14778997065).jpg

Identifier: lincolncentenni00newy (find matches)
Title: Lincoln centennial number
Year: 1909 (1900s)
Authors:
Subjects: Lincoln, Abraham, 1809-1865 Lincoln, Abraham, 1809-1865 Trumbull, Lyman, 1813-1896 Presidents
Publisher: New York
Contributing Library: Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Digitizing Sponsor: The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

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of what was doing, and she lopeddown the sheltered valley of BentonsCreek. Crossing and recrossing by themany log bridges, a plan which wouldsurely delay the hounds, at first she spedaway so fast that the trail had time tocool somewhat. On a dry day it wouldhave been lost, but this, unfortunately,was a day of deep snow, warm winds, andheavy thaw. The creek was a whizzingtorrent, the snow was slush, and the foxwent floundering at every bound. Thehounds had a red-hot scent, and theirlonger legs gave them the advantage. The speed of her opening run wasslackening, and the start she had added toat first was dwindling now. So far shehad eluded the gunners, but it was clearthat she could not hold out much longer;the snow got softer as the sun came blaz-ing down, and by degrees her tail sanklow. This truly is the foxs danger, andthe measure of his strength. A strong,brave fox bears his tail aloft in the chase.If his courage fails, the brush droops: inwet snow-time it gets wet and heavy, then
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; c s Ew w en r* DOMINO REYNARD OF GOLDUR TOWN 551 droops still more. It drags at last, soaksup wet and slush, and becomes a loadthat helps to hasten the end. Thus thestrong heart lives the longest; the faintheart falls by the way. Snowyruff hadnever lacked courage, but the snow wasvery wet and deep, and, in only a few daysmore, a new brood of little foxes was ex-pected. What wonder that, as herstrength was spent, her heart should fail?She was again crossing the freshet creekby a slender tree when her foot slipped,and she plunged into the flood. Sheswam out quickly, of course, but now,weighted with water, her case was indeeda hard one. There seemed no hope; itwas little more than a despairing cry shegave as she topped the next ridge, but itbrought an answer, — the short, sharpbark of the dog-fox, — and the Domino,strong and brave, came like a black hawkskimming across the snow. She had nomeans of telling him her plight, but shehad no need. He sensed it, and did whatonly the rarest

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