The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1863-11-12
The Daughters of the Lighthouse
Keeper.
BY VIRGINIA F. TOWNSEND.


tie island-the island was but half a mil
from end to end, and that stood alone and aes
olate out in the sea, miles away from tn,
main land bearing up the great dark tower
with its blazing crown of light, which flashed
through the blackness brighter than any
Icrown of king or emperor, like a diadem o
throbbing gems hung away up IN the air
guiding the sailor over the dark rocks of thu
waters straight and safe to his harbor. Thu
little daughters of the lighthouse keeper stoo(
by the window and strained their eyes out i'll
to the growing day. They had dressed il
haste and not even combed their hair aftel
their nights sleep, and tangled about thei
faces 1t was late in September, and the frs
great rain and gale of the season had set il
while the little girls were smiling softly annie
their dreams. the storm had grown in fierce
ness and strength the winds had ragged anc
rared and tore up in their fierce wrath the face
of the sea, and hurled the great black pillows
against the island, whose timbers were laiC
so deep and strong in the sea that no storm
nor wind could prevail against it.
] The binding rain, too, was dashed about
by the furious wind; torn here and hurled
there. and the sea seemed suddenly filled with
an awful life--heaving, roaring, battling, IL
pain rage and terror. The little daughters
of the light house keeper were used to the fear
| full storms in their island home but they had
never witnessed anything like this one, which
| had awakened them at the break of day.
But the storm of wind and sea was not the
sound which had drawn them so suddenly
from their beds, and sent them half dressed
to strain their eyes out into the binding rain,
| q i i oh olI al
and filled their hearts with dread and pity
| it was the boom of gun through the storm,
and then they knew there was some vessel in
distress on that wild sea, and that from the
sound of the guns, she could not be far Oft.
As the light grew, the little children saw
the masts looming up, spectral, through the
rain, and the schooner lay still little on the
side in the waters, great waves breaking over
her, while she was slowly, slowl y settling down
and they knew then that she had sprung a leak
and in a few hours the waters would roll over
the tall masts, the mad and hungry waves
that were licking the sides Of the vessel in fierce
exutation at the triumph that awaited them.
They were happy children-those two, on
the island where the lighthouse stood. No
thought of loneliness dropped through the
gladness of their lives. In the long pleasant
summer days, when the soft winds rlppled the
white waves until they looked III the distance
like great shoals of lilies, vessels came over
every day bringing small parties from the
shore and the little island would be full OF mer-
ry laughter, and hunming voices, and faces
lifting to and fro and i'll the winter they
read their books and made their frolics. and
listened to their fathers stories, that OF some
weather beaten sailor who had been all over
the world, and could tell such marvellous tales
by sea or land-oh, there was never day of
summer or winter that was long and heavy
on the hearts of the little children of the light
house keeper
But at the time of which | tell you, there
was no one on the island except their father
and an aunt of his, ali old woman who al
ways lived with them, and had charge of the
family, because the childrens mother had gone
on shore in the beautiful autumn days which
had preceded this terrible storm.
And as the day grew, and the little chill
dren watched, and the voice of the gun came
over the waters, their father suddenly entered
the room He was tall, muscular, broad
chested man, with broad honest forehead,
and kindly face, in which was now an unu-
sual expression of seriousness-eve anxiety
The children ran eagerly towards him, and he
took the Youngest i'll his arms-she was lit
tie thing just outside of her fifth year.
ooh, father !" they cried, simultaneously,
'can you make out who there is on board p
Yes said the lighthouse keeper gravely,
ave been out with my glass, and there's the
captain and two or three hands, and man
and woman seem to be passengers, and the wo-
what it is, but to all appearance, Pm pretty
sure its baby"
,.Oh, father" cried the children at once.
Eyes, it's hard; they've got on the high
est part of the vessel, but every wave goes
over them. She won't hold much longer,
said the man softly and sadly.
''Oh, father, will they all have to drown? p
asked the elder, with the tears on her cheeks.
81 don't see how it can be helped daughter,
'unless God sends them some aid"
Cant you-can't we do something's" ask
ed the sweet childish voice of the younger.
The lighthouse keeper looked at them both
a moment, with many feelings, struggle on
his face
''I've been thinking of that, children It's
a terrible thing to have the vessel go down
with all those precious lives on board, and do |
nothing to help them. Still it would be a
great risk, there's no denying it, and | might
never get back alive
'Do you want to try to save those people,
and the woman with the little baby in the
boat 2" asked the youngest girl.
Il want to- my children. But it will be
terrible rough work to keep a boat up i'll this
Storm Your mother is away, my children,
but you are old enough to understand what
mean Shall your father run the risk, and
try to get out i'll the long boat to those peo-
pie, whose only chance Of life 1t is, or shall he
stay at home, with his little girls, and let the
schooner founder?
And the children answered simultaneous
ly- :,
ooh, father, try and save her"' And the
eldest girl continued solemnly-
'And little sister and | will pray to the
Father in heaven to bring you back safe, and
the people too -,
So the lighthouse keeper kissed his chill
drsn, and commended them to the love OF God,
and went out.
What was done was to be done quickly
The children hurried to and fro bringing
cushions and food, and cordials, which were
all slowed away in the long boat; and then
the sailor departed.
Three times the wind drove the light, long,
row-boat on shore but the heart was brave
and the mana shllllul, anu INC oy ouCo'uJ .i0U
guided her. and the fourth time the little boat
rocked and quivered out on the Seething sea,
and the children watched from the window.
The laundering schooner lay half a mile at
the east end of the island. Every ave dash
the salt agony over the half dozen people hud-
died together on its highest point, and there
they stood with death staring them close IN
the face, while they watched the path of the
Iongboat as she fell and rose on the waves; and
they knew that she held, under God, their on
ly chance Of life!
Three hours had passed, and then the light.
house keeper opened once more the door OF
the sitting room, and by his side stood white
Irenched, utterly worn out woman, and IN the
mans arms was small bundle.
IN. = fc.r,,., FL