Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1868-07-24
SrltrteO StOru.
SALT TEARS.

SALT TEARS
-Four years OF as happy life then fell to
NV lot as could fall to that Of any man IN
this life, believe. by ways were rough,
and hers were not those of lady, but they
suited our stations III life, and what more
would you haveF Living the life l do now
busy here about this great city fish market,
1 look back upon that bright bit of life as
If it was some dream; and, though / can't
settle TO 20 back to the old place, / cling to
the fish and look upon those days when a
west country comes IN, as days worth re-
collecting, Tor they bring the blood IN
ones cheek, and a bit OF light into ones
eye
L can see 1t all now as plain as can be !;
the little fishing village under the cliff; the
stout granite pier running out so far as to
form haTbOT Tor fishing boats; and the
blue sea, stretching away as tar as the eye
could reach Down by its edge, too, the
weed-fnnged rocks. piled high in places,
with the sea foaming amongst the cTevicess
and again forming little Tock-pools where
the bright sea growths fiourished; and as
the tide came III with its fresh, cooling wa
tCTS, you saw the hmpets and the sea flow
CTS Weakening again to life, while many
spider-cTab and shell fish cTept out Of the
HUN NAtlCh WHY Al AAssNA hAuNAtA AAb-A III
warm sun. / can see it all now at any time,
though am growing gray. and score Of
years have passed since; but brighter than
all seem to stand out those two mournful
ewes. with the same fearful look as they
gave me Is l flung cut OF the door and saw
them for the last time; for when next i
looked upon that face the eyes were fast
closed, and could 1 have opened them the
lustre would have gone.
4 west country fiSheTman's life Is one
which takes him a deal from home. 80
sometimes we 60 of for peThaps< n
months at q time TO the north cOast4 -
Ireland when the herring season -
and. like the rest, / used to be of.
I've seen that same face of hers scores Of
times since and though II makes me shUd-
der, and nips me to the heart, 1 always go
and have good, long, earnest look at II,
and come away better man. You may see
that face yourself-as much like as If It had
been taken from her sad. anxious looks
yOu may see 1t at the picture-shOp windows,
and it's Of woman tying a handkerchief
around mans arm, and she looks up pitt
fully. and it's called The Huguenot.
InuTs like the loSlz and tia foca that gazed
up into mine after she'd told me what l
now know was the truth; and Yet I'm
most ashamed to own flung her away
from me, and wouldn't believe what she
said. There was a tear upon each cheek,
and the bright drops were trimming in her
eyes, and ready to fall; but was hard and
bitter. and whispered to myself that they
were false tears, put on to cheat me. and |
ran out of the house, swearing that I'd new
CT enter 1t no more.
1t wasn't a large house that house of
ours, but If it had been palace don't
think 1t could have been a happier home
than 1t had been for years; and Of course 1
know that that's foolish way of talking,
for happiness isn't a thing to be found in
palaces, any more than III the smallest OF
cottages Ii seems TO me that real happi-
ness grows, as it were, out of the true faith
and trust that man and his wife has in
one another; while the strength OF two
working together the same way gives them
q help forward IN the world that nothing
can resist
Speaking as a fisherman, and one who
vas brought up with the sound of the sea
always In his ears, may say we rowed
well together IN the same boat. Mary and
L 1 had long fight of it before 1 could
persuade her that it would be best for her
future that she should take me for pilot,
and not Harry Penellyn: but 1 did per-
suade her at last, and we were married
down nt-the little fishermens' church at the
head of the cove.
My boat, sorry enough to leave home
happy enough to return after busy sea-
son, till one year, when took it into my
head to think it strange that Harry Pencil
lyn, my wife's old beau, should spin his
illness out so long and stop ashore, time
after time when the boats went out, and
him seeming to be well and strong as any
of Us. There had been heavy gale on
the coast some weeks before, and. as we
always do at such times, we had run Ia for
the harbor as soon as we saw ii coming:
but, through bad seamanship, Penellyn's
boat came inside the rocks, when she
should have come outside, and shen,
through their not having water enough,
she grounded, lifted again, caught by the
stern, and then swung round broad side to
the waves, which swept her half deck,
while a regular chorus of shrieks rose from
the women standing ashore
&. II was rough time, for even cur boats
that were IN the haTbOr were gToaning and
grinding together, while every now and
then the sea washed over so as to threaten
10 kill them, and sweeping the pier from
end to end. In an ordinary way we made
o custom of laughing at crew of a boat
who, from bungling, got on the rocks, for
born as we were IN the bay, with our
fathers fishers before us, we knew every
stone along the coast, and could almost have
steered our boat to them blindfold; but this
was no time to jeer, for now the poor fell
lows were being swept one by one from
their hold, and borne struggling IN the
serf 70 the rocks, where they We're In great
danger Of being dashed to pieces, for ours
was no smooth, sandy beach Some were
swimming, some were beating the water
frantically; and clad as our men are, in
their thick cloth trousers, heavy sea boots
and stout Guernsey shirts, they stand
poor chance of keeping afoat long, for
the weight OF their boots is enough to drag
them down
There was every one in state of excite
ment; men running out as far as they
could, and throwing ropes; men shouting
orders that nobody attended to; women
tossing their arms up and crying, while
first one and then another of the boats
crew was dragged ashore, and carried. half
drowned, up TO the cottages.
was standing looking on, with Mary
by my side, for she was out on the cliff
when my boat ran into the little harbor,
while her hand was the irst to clasp mine
when got ashore, thankful for the escape
we had, for the sea had risen wonderfully
quick. / had taken no part in trying TO
save the boats crew, for there were plenty
Of willing hands, and there being now but
little standing-room down below the cliff,
lad thought that should be in the way;
but now it seemed to me that one poor fell
low would be lost with the efforts they were
making TO save him, for he was too weak