Driven Back to Eden
The Project Gutenberg EBook of Driven Back to Eden, by E. P. Roe #3 in our series by E. P. Roe
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Title: Driven Back to Eden
Author: E. P. Roe
Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5269] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on June 23, 2002]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN ***
Produced by Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN
BY
E. P. ROE
THIS VOLUME
IS LOVINGLY DEDICATED TO
"JOHNNIE"
PREFACE
Months since, with much doubt and diffidence, I began this simple story. I had never before written expressly for young people, and I knew that the honest little critics could not be beguiled with words which did not tell an interesting story. How far I have succeeded, the readers of this volume, and of the "St. Nicholas" magazine, wherein the tale appeared as a serial, alone can answer.
I have portrayed no actual experience, but have sought to present one which might be verified in real life. I have tried to avoid all that would be impossible or even improbable. The labors performed by the children in the story were not unknown to my own hands, in childhood, nor would they form tasks too severe for many little hands now idle in the cities.
The characters are all imaginary; the scenes, in the main, are real: and I would gladly lure other families from tenement flats into green pastures.
E. P. R.
CORNWALL-ON-THE-HUDSON,
August 10, 1885.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
A PROBLEM
CHAPTER II
I STATE THE CASE
CHAPTER III
NEW PROSPECTS
CHAPTER IV
A MOMENTOUS EXPEDITION
CHAPTER V
A COUNTRY CHRISTMAS IN A CITY FLAT
CHAPTER VI
A BLUFF FRIEND
CHAPTER VII
MR. JONES SHOWS ME THE PLACE
CHAPTER VIII
TELLING ABOUT EDEN
CHAPTER IX
"BREAKING CAMP"
CHAPTER X
SCENES ON THE WHARF
CHAPTER XI
A VOYAGE UP THE HUDSON
CHAPTER XII
A MARCH EVENING IN EDEN
CHAPTER XIII
RESCUED AND AT HOME
CHAPTER XIV
SELF-DENIAL AND ITS REWARD
CHAPTER XV
OUR SUNNY KITCHEN
CHAPTER XVI
MAKING A PLACE FOR CHICKENS
CHAPTER XVII
GOOD BARGAINS IN MAPLE SUGAR
CHAPTER XVIII
BUTTERNUTS AND BOBSEY'S PERIL
CHAPTER XIX
JOHN JONES, JUN
CHAPTER XX
RASPBERRY LESSONS
CHAPTER XXI
THE "VANDOO"
CHAPTER XXII
EARLY APRIL GARDENING
CHAPTER XXIII
A BONFIRE AND A FEAST
CHAPTER XXIV
"NO BLIND DRIFTING"
CHAPTER XXV
OWLS AND ANTWERPS
CHAPTER XXVI
A COUNTRY SUNDAY
CHAPTER XXVII
STRAWBERRY VISIONS AND "PERTATERS"
CHAPTER XXVIII
CORN, COLOR, AND MUSIC
CHAPTER XXIX
WE GO A-FISHING
CHAPTER XXX
WEEDS AND WORKING FOR DEAR LIFE
CHAPTER XXXI
NATURE SMILES AND HELPS
CHAPTER XXXII
CHERRIES, BERRIES, AND BERRY-THIEVES
CHAPTER XXXIII
GIVEN HIS CHOICE
CHAPTER XXXIV
GIVEN A CHANCE
CHAPTER XXXV
"WE SHALL ALL EARN OUR SALT"
CHAPTER XXXVI
A THUNDERBOLT
CHAPTER XXXVII
RALLYING FROM THE BLOW
CHAPTER XXXVIII
AUGUST WORK AND PLAY
CHAPTER XXXIX
A TRIP TO THE SEASHORE
CHAPTER XL
A VISIT TO HOUGHTON FARM
CHAPTER XLI
HOARDING FOR WINTER
CHAPTER XLII
AUTUMN WORK AND SPORT
CHAPTER XLIII
THANKSGIVING DAY
CHAPTER XLIV
CAN MAKE A LIVING IN EDEN
DRIVEN BACK TO EDEN
CHAPTER I
A PROBLEM
"Where are the children?"
"They can't be far away," replied my wife, looking up from her preparations for supper. "Bobsey was here a moment ago. As soon as my back's turned he's out and away. I haven't seen Merton since he brought his books from school, and I suppose Winnie is upstairs with the Daggetts."
"I wish, my dear, you could keep the children at home more," I said, a little petulantly.
"I wish you would go and find them for me now, and to-morrow take my place--for just one day."
"Well, well," I said, with a laugh that had no mirth in it; "only one of your wishes stands much chance of being carried out. I'll find the children now if I can without the aid of the police. Mousie, do you feel stronger to-night?"
These words were spoken to a pale girl of fourteen, who appeared to be scarcely more than twelve, so diminutive was her frame.
"Yes, papa," she replied, a faint smile flitting like a ray of light across her features. She always said she was better, but never got well. Her quiet ways and tones had led to the household name of "Mousie."
As I was descending the narrow stairway I was almost overthrown by a torrent of children pouring down from the flats above. In the dim light of a gas-burner I saw that Bobsey was one of the reckless atoms. He had not heard my voice in the uproar, and before I could
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