Two brave boys, and, The wrong twin

THE MUTTERINGS OF THE STORM.

IT was the month of January, and the keen Russian winter had wrapped the woods and marshes in a snowy garment, and put the rivers in prison behind thick panes of ice glass, and dressed up the tall pines and firs till they looked like sheeted ghosts under the cold starlight.

But in Mr. John Oliver's roomy wooden house, standing on ground somewhat raised, and overlooked by the huge chimneys of a big mineral oil factory, was perfect warmth and comfort, for the great stoves built into the walls of the room, and faced with white glazed tiles, kept the whole place of an equal temperature.

It was about eleven o'clock, and two little boys were in bed in their nursery. Their narrow iron bedsteads were drawn close together, and in one of them a little fair-haired lad of about ten or eleven was fast asleep. Not so, however, his brother, who had raised himself to a sitting posture, and now, with his dark head and eager face bent over the sleeper, said in a whisper—

"Wake up, Bert! I want to tell you something. Do wake up!"

Bert stirred uneasily, then rubbed his eyes, yawned, and sat up.

"Oh, it's you, Alf!" he said drowsily. "I was in the middle of a dream. What's the matter?"

"Hush! Don't talk above a whisper. I don't want Niania (nurse) to come in before I've had time to tell you. Matter? Well, nothing yet, but there's going to be heaps the matter if what I've heard comes true."

"What have you heard?" questioned Bert, quite wide awake now.

"I'll tell you," said Alf. "After you'd gone to bed, and I'd finished my lessons for to-morrow, I remembered that I hadn't mended my skate that was broken, and so I went over to our own little workshop, for I hadn't any tools in the house. But as soon as I was inside I forgot all about what I'd come for."

"Did you? Oh, Alf, what was it?"

"Well, you know how thin the partition is between our workshop and the men's tool-room?"

"Yes, and it's full of cracks, too."

"But happily they're too small to see through, or I might have been caught listening," responded Alf.

"But what did you hear?"

"I'm coming to that! There was talk going on between a man, whose voice I did not know, and the foreman of the cooper's shop, Anton Griboff."

"Oh, I know! The chap with the suet-pudding face, the currants for eyes, the plastered hair, and the squint!"

"Yes, that's the chap! Well, the two must have been talking lots before I came to the workshop, for I found I'd jumped into the middle of a plot. And this was to get up a sort of strike; not a real strike though, but just an excuse to mutiny. They have arranged among themselves to demand things that they know very well no manager could give, such as nearly double wages and a six-hours day, and I don't remember what beside. But, of course, dad won't think of it."

"Perhaps they think they can frighten him," suggested Bert.

"Then they don't know dad!" And Alf gave a soft little chuckle of pride in the possession of such a dad.

"Well," he continued, "I stood there as still as a mouse till all was quiet and the men had gone home, and then I crept back to the house and went straight to dad and mother."

"And told them all about it?" asked Bert.

"Of course," replied Alf.

"And what did dad say?"

"Dad said he'd seen this mutinous spirit among the men for some time, and that it was all brought about by a few who were trying to make trouble for the sake of what they could get out of it."

"Was that all, Alf?"

"No; dad turned to mother and said: 'My dear, I must send you and the boys away to England. If there's going to be trouble here, it would not be safe for you to remain.'"

"And what did mother say?" asked Bert, with expectant, shining eyes.

"Mother? Why, she just looked up with her pretty smile and the star-look in her eyes, and she said: 'Herbert, I fear I must disobey you in this matter. If there is going to be danger, my place is here by your side, and the boys cannot go away alone. No, we will all stay together, and trust to God to bring us safely through.'"

"And what did dad say then?"

"Nothing more—not a word. But I saw the tears in his dear old eyes, and so I thought I'd leave him and mother to themselves and come to bed; but I couldn't sleep till I'd told you."

Here a voice from the next room said in Russian: "Why are you talking at this time of night, children? Go to sleep—both of you—like good little pigeons."

"Oh, Niania, I wish you'd come here a minute," said Alf. "I want to ask you something."

Nurse gave a little grunt, but not a cross one, for she was never angry with her children, as she called them.

"Nurse," said Alf very solemnly in Russian, "if there's going to be a rising among the men in the zavot (factory), on whose side will you be—on ours or on theirs?"

Old Niania threw a loving arm round each of the little lads and drew them close.

"My darlings," she cried, "my doves, my gold and silver and diamond children, do I not belong to you, heart and soul? Whatever happens, I am on your side, now and ever; so help me God!"