The Union. [volume] (Georgetown, Del.) 1863-1866, 1863-12-18

nah, for the sake of those little chill
drenP"
Hannah Turner shook her head.
at seems very strange" she said, Il
never can get nysehto believe that Thom-
as is really gone. am always listening
for his step or voice, trembling at the
sight of every lette-, as if he could come
back again. Sometimes l feel sure he
will 1t is not as IL L had seen him die,
you know. Oh! no, ] dare not become
your wife, feeling as | do"
Hannah" said the captain, softly, "sit
down by the fire and think of it. Re-
member, I'm content with liking; remem-
Der, that if you shol,ld work yourself to
death, those babies would have no one
left; and remember TOO, the long years l
have loved you, aRs-the joy it would be
to me to lie safe in harbor at last after bat
tling with the storap so long. | ask you
to marry me for ydur own sake, for you
toll hard and late f9 mere pittance now,
and for the sake of7those littls ones that
I'll be as COOL to, Eannah, as | would be
to my own; and, my dear, | ask you to do
it for the sake of the rough sailor who may
not tell his story strdght, but who has love
enough in his heart for you to fill dozen
books of poetry. You are kind-hearted,
Hannah; don't tell him he must pass his
age, as his youth has been passed, without
living messmate. Let the old ship cast
anchor in the har6or of home, and may
God bless him for it, as He will"
Tlo .laalr
the mantel ticked loudly, keeping time to
the tiny voice of the watch at the widow s
belt. Something else beat loud and fast,
also--the big heart under the sailors rough
blue vest.
Ten minutes were counted ere Hannah
Turner spoke.
"Captain Walworth," she said, 81 have
been trying to understand my duty, trying
to see which path [ ought to take. Ii l
did not respect you, nay, if, in one sense,
I did not love you, aren the thought Of my
children's future could not influence me;
but you are my dearest living friend, and
would not grieve ysu for the world
But listen-think;TI tell you solemnly
that the romantic love Of my youth / have
not in my heart for you or any other
Knowing this, could you be content?"
''My dear!-conFent?"
"Hushl | have not said all yet. This
is not thing to be- done hastily. You
ship sails soon, / think"
"In fortnight, Hannah"
Son that day ~ will say goodbye fo
a .-esr ases, sa4ss . year, dear frioGd
Reflect upon what have told you, weigl
your own thoughts well, and when tn,
next October brings my birthday come t.
me. If you still feel in the same mind,
will do what can to make your liti
happy"
"Oh Hannah%-a year? What may hap
pen to you-what to me? My mind can
change, my dear; my heart points to yol
as the needle points to the north. Marr,
me now, Hannah, and if you like, II
never sail again, so the sailor pleaded.
But Hannah Turner shook her head.
"Something seemed to put the though
into my mind" she said. "There may b.
meaning in it-I think there is. To peo
pie of our age, what is year? If Goo
wills it, you will meet me at its end; if no
Amen"
She was frm-her resolution was not t.
be shaken-and so, when the fortnigh
was over, Captains alworth kissed Han
nah Turner on the forehead, and sa i'd
"Good-bye until next October"
II.
1t was August, and the Plover sailed
under the burning sun of the tropics
her sides blistered by the heat, heI. crcy
clad as lightly as civilization would allow
On board, slowed away in the mysteriou
receptacles of a sailing vessel were store
of spices and candied fruit in wicker-cov
cred jars, jellies like gold or amber il
their hues, preserved ginger, pineapple
and bananas, and mighty oranges thick Q
skin and plenteous of juice. They wer
homeward bound, and as Captain Walwort
paced the deck, he thought of Hanna
Turner and October-only two month
more-and he had lying against his heal
kind letter written by her hand. Th
ship would find harbor before long. An
so, in the hush Of the moonlit-ocean mit
night, the Captain, looking outwardly nor
like rough blue bear in his mighty Sc;
jacket, than any other living thing, pace
the deck and thought of Hannah Turne
as Byron with all his passionate romano
never thought of any woman in all his lif;
Rough-handed, rough-voiced, coated wit
roughness all over, like some rare nut, eve
she whom he loved so never quite undel
stood the heart of William Walworth.
Those were rare days; bathed in golde
sunshine, with heavy fragrance in I'll
tropical air that predisposed those sailol
from the temperate climate of New Yorl
and Ma ne, and Massachusetts, to slun
bers filed with dreams like opium trance
Activity seemed sheer absurdity, an
every one longed to be idle, to lie pror
| upon the deck bathed in golden sunbeam
l AS for a storm, that seemed impossibl,
one might as easily have expected snow
summer. But in these regions :empes
a come quickly, without the slow gatherir
t of clouds and rising of winds that mai
b. them here.
0 A line of white foam on the horizon,
1 lurid light in the sky, scarcely time to flu
q the sun-bleachsd sails, and tornado W
< upon them.
0 Such storm Lips that never blanc
e ed with fear before grew white that da
Mau u,ha bod mt aollad On QoI ain