BY GOUVERNEUR MORRIS
"It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee.
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child"--
It was on the way home from Sunday-school that Aladdin had enticed Margaret to the forbidden river. She
was not sure that he knew how to row, for he was prone to exaggerate his prowess at this and that, and she
went because of the fine defiance of it, and because Aladdin exercised an irresistible fascination. He it was
who could whistle the most engagingly through his front teeth; and he it was, when sad dogs of boys of the
world were met behind the barn, who could blow the smoke of the fragrant grapevine through his nose, and
swallow the same without alarm to himself or to his admirers. To be with him was in itself a soulful
wickedness, a delicious and elevating lesson in corruption. But to be with him when he had done wrong, and
was sorry for it (as always when found out), that was enough to give one visions of freckled angels, and the
sweetness of Paradise in May.
Aladdin brought the skiff into the float, stern first, with a bump. Pride sat high upon his freckled brow, and he
whistled piercing notes.
"I can do it," he said. "Now get in."
Margaret embarked very gingerly and smoothed her dress carefully, before and after sitting down. It was a
white and starchy dress of price, with little blue ribbons at the throat and wrists--such a dress as the little girl
of a very poor papa will find laid out on the gilt and brocade chair beside her bed if she goes to sleep and
wakes up in heaven.
"Only a little way, 'Laddin, please."
The boy made half a dozen circular, jabbing strokes, and the skiff zigzagged out from the float. It was a fine
blue day, cool as a cucumber, and across the river from the deserted shipyards, where, upon lofty beamings,
stood all sorts of ships in all stages of composition, the frequent b