Adventure Magazine Cover — page 80: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

66 a fight, and heshot Ben. You, hot-headed- like, had threatened to fix Ben, as ye'll rickollect, only the week afore. Lot hired them two low-down Sellarses to swear they seed you do it, and that and yore own foolish threat sent ye up. It’s no trouble to put Lot out o’ my mind, Jim. [I ain’t never loved nobody on earth, it seems like now, but you—you and this here one baby o’ mine which I named after you. He was two years old when I married Lot Hupple. He’s yore own boy, Jim.”’ “My own boy!” gasped Braden. “Take my word fo’ it,’ begged Dana. Adventure “Count up how old he is, and—and every- thing. . Jim, do ye want me back now?” Fiddlin’ Jim turned his eyes, shining topaz eyes, upward. His kindly, rugged face seemed somehow glorified. Dana was afraid; perhaps, she thought, it was his delirium again. ‘“‘What is it, Jim, honey dahlin’?” she half whispered, her voice that of the eternal mother. ‘What is it ye see?”’ “Nothin’ much,” smiled the man who had learned fine lessons of life behind the iron bars of a prison. “I was jest a-lookin’ up to see where the acorns comes from.” THE HAVEN by BERTON BRALEY (“Little Islands. tucked away down under the Line.”—Kzipling.) HERE’S an Island somewhere down below the Line, It’s an Island that I’ve never even seen, Where the level beach is delicate and fine, . And the sea is: like an opal, blue and green. Oh, the long tides ebb and flow there and I’m simply sick to go there Where the phosphorescent combers glow and shine, And the cockatoos are screaming and the tropic stars are gleaming On an Island somewhere down below the Line! I am harnessed: in the yoke of everyday; I am fettered to the humdrum and the dull, But my thoughts are always. wandering away On the highroad of the eagle and the gull. Far away from care and canker there’s a dream ship drops her anchor In a blue lagoon of coraline design, And a slow tide gently heaves me and a dream boat takes and leaves me On an Island somewhere down below the Line. There I swing a golden hammock, and a breeze Brings the heavy scent of jungle-growth and bloom, And the coconuts are falling from the trees, And I hear the far-off breakers roar and boom. It’s a dream of drowsy beauty that is kept from me by duty; | It’s a glamour never, never to be mine, But I still can hold the vision of a loafing-spot elysian On an Island somewhere down below the Line! com a books. co