Almost in less time than it takes to tell it he reached her side, sprang over the low bulwarks on to the deck, snatched up a coil of rope that lay upon the cabin poop, leaped back to the ice, and with mighty strides came down toward the water, amid the cheers of the onlookers. "Look out for yourself, Andy!" Ben shouted, as he drew close to the canal’s edge, coiling the rope for a throw. "Now, then, catch!" and the long rope went swirling through the air. A cry of disappointment from the crowd announced that it had fallen short. "All right, Andy—better luck next time," called Ben, as he rapidly recovered the rope for another fling. Venturing a little nearer, and taking more pains, he flung it out with all his strength, and this time a shout of joy proclaimed that his aim had been true. "Put it under your arms," called out Ben. Letting go the cake of ice to which he had been clinging, Andy slipped the rope under his arms. "Now, then, hold tight." And slowly, carefully, hand over hand, big Ben, with feet braced firmly and muscles straining, drew Andy through the broken cakes and up upon the firm safe ice. The moment he was out of danger a shout burst forth from the relieved spectators, and they crowded eagerly round rescued and rescuer. "Out of the way there, please! out of the way!" cried Ben, as he gathered Andy’s dripping form up in his arms. "This lad must be beside a fire as soon as possible." Fortunately the crew were still on board the schooner from which the precious rope had been borrowed, and they had a fine fire in the cabin. Into this warm nook Andy was borne without delay. His wet clothes were soon stripped off, and he was turned into a bunk until dry ones could be procured. A messenger was despatched with the news to his home, and before long his mother, with feelings strangely divided between smiles and tears, drove down for the boy who had come so near to being lost to her for ever. That evening, as Harvey and Andy were sitting by the fireside recounting for the tenth time the stirring incidents of the day, and voicing together the praises of big Ben Hill, Andy, with a sly twinkle of the eye, turned to Harvey, saying, "Do you remember saying to me that it was a touch and go every time?" "Yes, Andy; what of it?" "Well, I was just thinking that in my case I didn’t touch, but I went—under the water, and I won’t be in a hurry to try it again." *THE CAVE IN THE CLIFF.* "Say, Bruce, don’t you think we could manage to put in a whole week up among the hills this autumn?" asked Fred Harris of Bruce Borden, as the two friends strolled along together one September afternoon through the main street of Shelburne, one of the prettiest towns upon the Nova Scotian sea-board.