Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1867-01-05

ed man-and the boy is branch IF The
old tree, I'll 60 bail. And"
But Lucy was crying, with her heae
on her fathers knee 1saac's heart re
Tented within him
"Pm a cross old bear, I know he
made haste to utter, "and I'd ought tt
be a little more keerful what | say
Don't cry little one-there-there! II
row ye cross, if ye say SO faint nea
dark yet, and it is ruther hard on
young gal like you to live in this stone
dungeon year in and year out. l wisl
| hadn't told Sam he could have th,
day to himself. But never mind; II
be back long afore lightin' time"
Lucy had frightened up like a ros
after a shower.
ooh, father, am SO glad ! 1 did s.
want to go!'
She tripped backward and forward
adjusting the round hat with the scarle
wing, folding the brown shawl, and re
arranging the scarlet berries in her hal
while old Isaac, with his fur cap on
and his hands in the pockets of his sal
lor coat, watched her with a proud
amused sense of proprietorship.
"She's more like one O. them foreign
birds with plumage like fire, and little
glancin' ways, than she is like human
critter y thought the lighthouse keep
er. 81 know I'm goin' clean agin al
rules and regulations, leavin' the place
alone: but 'twont be but for few min
utes, and I don't like to dsappoint the
gal, her hearts so kind O sot ont. I've
got to be father and mother both to the
child-and she is good gal, and {
pretty one too, if she does happen to be
Isaac Penrith's darter.
'Ill take the flowers over, father, .
said Lucy, removing them from the
vase, and wrapping bit of paper rount
the damp stems. "There's not much
left in the farm house garden and they
will help to make the Thanksgiving ia
bic gay. Now, father, I'm ready"
And as Isaac Penrith pulled the
shell-like little boat out to sea, with tn;
long, steady, vigorous strokes that be-
tokened his daily habituation to life on
the deep, he fell into musing remem.
brance of the far-away Thanksgivings
of his youth, with their rains of red and
golden leaves, and the odor of sweet.
fern in the pastures, and the old red
farmhouse among the bleak New Eng
land hills And, unconsciously, the
roar of the green, translucent tides be.
came the wall Of winds in upland for
ests, and Lucy's blooming face opposite
him seemed her mothers smiling out
from the mists of years.
Nor was the salt drop Oh old Isaac's
cheek the spray from his steadily dip
ping oar,
Lucy Penrith sprung lightly to hel
feet as the keee Of the boat grated soft
ly on the smooth, shingly sand of the
beach.
"You will walk up to the house with
me, father. See how high the sun is sp'
Isaac stopped and secured his boat tc
huge projecting rock by mears of a
loop of heavy rope.
"Fll CO." he said briefly, adding
within himself: "and if Phil Martin S
there, I'll bring her back with me
again. don't like his fathers son p
The old brown house stood little
way back on the beach, with a smooth
stretch of silvery sand in front, and a
cluster of black-green cedars in the rear
tossing their plumy heads about in the
clustering salt scented gale, and group
of merry makers, young and old, in
their Thanksgiving habiliments, were in
the porch awaiting the arrival of the
new comers.
go, Lucy, We thought you never
were coming!' said brigLt-eyed little
damsel, whose bair was blowing about
her face like a mist of rippled gold
"What made you so late ? And Phil
Martin"
Lucy's appealing, frightened glance
stopped the half uttered sentence short;
but Isaac Penrith had caught its mean
ing. a
Lucy" he said, drawing his daugh-
ter aside as tbs whole group hurried
merrily into the house once more, where
fire of drift-wood blazed redly in the
huge old-fashioned fire place, and the
"old people, in caps and brass buttoned
suits, were purriuo around the genial
glow-"Lucy, is there anything be-
tween you and-and Dorr Martins IS
son ?"
She colored and turned her face away
while the tears sprang to her eyes,
''Tell me-" he urged, sternly grasp
ing her arm; 81 will have no more half
condolences Has he asked you to be his
wife ?''
eyes, father
"And you-what answer did you
make ?"
"Father," simply answered Lucy,
with her violet eyes raised to his, 81
love him p'
"Child," said Isaac Penrith, "con-
quer this idle folly as best you may! l
neuer will give my daughter to Philip
Martin. So now you know my will and
determination in the matter
"But, father"
He turned abruptly away, releasing
Lucy to the demands of half-a-dozen
pleading, bird voiced girls, while he
himself briefly declined the kindly offers
of hospitality that beset him on every
side
81 must be goin' back friends" he