Mineral Point weekly tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1859-1868, 1864-03-16

New York from Portland, where he had been
in his capacity of an officer of engineers in
the United States army. to inspect some for
tifcations, and that he had with him this
same dog Bran, about two years old then, and
which he had raised from puppy. All that
day il had blown gale. They supposed
themselves in the neighborhood of Montauh
Point, though the captain had not had an OBJ
servatioa In forty-eight hours. That night,
or rather IN the morning, about two, when
the wind had lulled some what, and whilst the
brig was still laying-to, he went on deck and
stood by the forward bulwarks talking to
the captain. Hardly had he been there five
minutes-Bran standing close beside him
when sudden sea struck the vessel so vio-
lently as to throw him into the sea The
| captain Immediately cast him a hfe-p reserver
which fortunately hung in the companion
way, right at hand but before that Bran had
sprung after his master, and was beside him
when he caught the life -preserver. In few
seconds more, he had hold Of the rope the
captain had also thrown, and with the help
of some of the crew, was got safely on deck.
| The danger had been extreme as it was brief
All attempts to lasso Bran brave fellow, and
rescue him were in vain. He was tossed past
them on the waves, and was soon lost sight
Of After he had told me that much, Mr..
| Manton hesitated for while, and then smil-
ed as he said that the strangest part of his
adventure was yet to be told. While buffet
ing with the waves in those moments of dark
ness and danger, he had seen, as he might
III a startling dream, a girls face looking at
him with fearful anxiety. The appearance
was but for a flash of time, vet it had clung
| TO his memory ever since, perhaps impressed
the more because lie had again and again,
since the occurrence, wondered in metaphys
| zeal speculation over it. At the ball he re.
| cognized in my face the prototype of his Wis
| ion.
| l did not tell him then of my spectral Wis
| itation; of the wonderful coincidence in
| our experience on the same night and at the
| same hour. Ny astonisbment almost amount
| ed to terror as l heard his story.
| 1t was again the twenty of October.
| but a very different night from that two years
| ago-ealm and mild, with some of summers
! warmth yet lingering in the evening clouds.
| After tea, which Mr.. Manton had taken with
| US he and I walked cut on the beach as we
| had done almost every evening in the three
months that had passed so happily to me-
| We had the hard, sheIl-sprinkled bed of the
| low tide before Us the indistinct BROWNIES
of the fields and bluff on one side; the vast,
| soft-spread CLEAN OF the waning twilight on
| the ocean stretched ON the other We walk
| ed on. Night came; it was black about Us !;
| only the white rim of the little breakers
| splashing near as the track for our path. Out
| OF the darkness, on the ocean side of US, there
! spread from one spot a half-circle of Just per
| ceptible mellow light-it increased, grew
| brighter softer throwing silyer-like tentacles
| into the waves that rolled between it and US.
| The SKY became visible, and a small, dark
| cloud just above was trimmed with silver. 4
| moment later, and the yellow rim of the moon
| peeped above the sea-line, and grew and deep
| ened in fullness and warmth until its sphere
| was perfect. The light showed a seine-house
| near US, and the skeleton of an old boat. Il
| that found a seat, and Mr.. Manton spread a
I Shawl for me. He sat on the sand with his
| back against the broken bow. Neither of Us
! spoke for an hour, l suppose, until Mr. Man
| ton rose and walkedup and down by the boat
| and said -
| Miss Observation-Disclosures filter time
| than this to say what my heart urges-I love
| you" Leaning his arms on the boats side,
| he asked: " AEce-will you De mine :"
made some answer, l suppose, for he came
and sat beside me. 1t was then, with my
hand in his, and Bran looking up into our
! faces, that / told him of what l had seen two
years ago that night, and how / knew now
| that | had loved him ever since that time
! We were married in the spring. It was he,
my husband, Theodore Manton, who, FIVE
! years ago carried Bran down to the seaside
/ for he had grown too old and feeble to walk
| without pain. There, as / told you before,
/ Bran died with his head in my lap, and Theo-
! dOTe made his grave on the little bluff we
always called - Saved-Craig-a-Br A part
| of every year we still pass at my old home,
and my white-haired father has found new
| friends and his dearest companions in two
wild, sturdy ys.-Ksieber5ocker.