Portage sentinel. [volume] (Ravenna, Ohio) 1845-1854, 1848-03-08
SBack, to get some covering for father and

sBack, to get some covering for father ane
YOU"
"Young woman" said seaman stand
ing by, 'sit may be death to do that--the
ship may part any minute.
But she gave no heed to remonstrances
though they came fast and clamorous; she
seized on the rope, which still hung from the
ship, and by superhuman effort, climbed
to the deck and went forward to the steer.
age. In a few moments she reappeared
threw over on to the rock bundle of cloth
ing, and agaid slid swiftly down the rope.
She had brought her fathers cloak from the
berth where he had left it, and blanket
which she wrapped around heg mother, say
ing:-
"You see have come safely back, for
God was with me, mother dear"
Before half-hour had passed, loud
crash was heard, and mountain wave
swept away the whole of the forward part
of the vessel!
As the day wore on, and the fog lifted
the. ship wrecked behind despairingly the
hopelessness of their situation. They were
cast upon perfectly barren rock, separated
from the land by many rods of foaming
surf, in which no boat could live an instant:
at sea, no sail was in sight, and on the shore
no signs of human life. They were on the
coast of Newfoundland.
But the mother and daughter were absorb
ed in fearful affliction which was coming
fast upon them.
On that desolate spot, the husband and
father was dying. He bade them good-by,
| Al. T. l.
with the thrilling tenderness of the last, last
look-the breath ceased on his ips-his
white face grew rigid, and his spirit dwelt
where "there is no more sea-" nor hunger,
nor cold, nor death.
When the first wild burst of grief was
DER, Mary left the ifeless form with her
mother, and searched around until she found
wide issure in the rock, somewhat shell
tered by an overhanging ledge. She then
gently took the body from her mothers con-
vulsive embraces, and with the assistance
of kind sailor, bore it and laid it there.
She kissed once again her fathers lips, chill
ed more with the tempest than the recent
touch of death; smoothed the thin hair upon
his brow, and wrapped his cloak more close
ly around him, turned and left him forever.
She herself was trembling with cold, but she
thought not once of robbing her poor dead
father of his winding sheet.
Rest thou, old saint, with the cross upon
thy breast Though thou Hest not deep in
the dear bosom of thy native land, but where
pillows dash around, and theWet sands drift
over,thee-though thy loved$ones may not
come to weep above thee, though no living
thing be near thee but the wild sea bird, dip
ping her white wing in the surf-God's an
gel has marked the spot, and when earth's
graves are opening and the sea gives up its
dead, thou shalt arise from thy cold, hard
couch, on the wave-lashed rock.
Soon after Mary returned to her mother, a
shout from their companions told them that
the despaired of help was at hand. On
looking to the shore, she beheld four or five
men, pointing three huge Newfoundland
dogs to the rock. As soon as the noble
creatures caught sight of the sufferers, they
sprang eagerly into the suf. How sturdily
they breasted the waves-how gloriously
they leaped forward to the rescue!
One after another, the shipwrecked were
lashed to these gallant deliverers and carried
safely to the shore. To the kind inquiries of
an aged sailor, who at each return of the
noble dogs, had said, "Now, daughter, y
Mary simply answered, "Not yet" and re-
mained holding on her lap the almost inani-
mate form of her mother. At length the
mother seemed to rouse herself, and opening
her faded blue eyes, those eyes into which
Mary had so often looked for hope and en-
couragement, she said: II will ftry, darling
for my child's sake; the good God may
give me strength to pass through the
troubled waters"
Mary assisted to lash her carefully to one
of those mute deliverers, and with arms
clasped about and partly supporting her, sht
accompanied her far out into the surf, anc
committed her to the angry deep. Anc
there stood Mary Conway-around her tbe
wild sea-her black hair on the wind, hel
lips parted, and her clasped hands out
stretched before her-yet all unheeding sea
and wind, for her heart was with her eye
and her eye was with her mother. She saw
those aged limbs float out on the wave, anc
that gray hair tossing like sea-weed in tht
surf. She saw the cruel wave pass over hel
) she saw for moment her white, calm
face, as she was borne up on the succeeding
billow, turned full upon her-she saw he1
dimmed eyes open, and, oh, God! amid the
: sea and the storm, the daughter caught tht
last look of an affectionate recognition from
dying mother! But Mary knew it not
still stood she, stdtue-like, watching will
wild intensity the receding form of hel
last parent; the only change Of attitude ant
expression was the swelling and falling 0
the chest, and the cleaning and fading o
the eye, as her mothers form appeared ant
disappeared in the tumbling waters. Near
er, still nearer the firm earth-the white
) surf covers her-a rush of stalwart men
they are bearing her up the beach! 'sSh'
l Is sale! she is sa(eP' and with eyes thrown
{. henven ward, Mary falls, fainting. Blu
f The old sailor was by her side-she felt no
e that rushing Of the waters as she too wa.
i borne to the shore, and when she mex
? awoke to consciousness, she was stretche,
;, beneath sheltering cliff, and beside, oh
1 joy, her .mother!-oh, despair, her deae
: mother! .. g.. .... ..... .....,...--
Not wall, not tear, not u sigh, be
: trayed the agony of that broken-hearte
: girl, as vainly and still hopelessly sh
strove to recall that departed spirit. The
ma around her. the kind hearted stranp