Clayton herald. (Clayton, Del.) 1867-1870, 1869-07-31
blacksmith caught up a heavy

SllCks
"Will you not2"
"No, will not; so take care what
you are about"
"Tll break your spirit or I'll break
every bone in your body"
"You won't do either"
"We'll try that"
The blacksmith rushed forward to
grasp Harry by the collar, and Harry
sprung to meet him with wild resist
ance. They stood foot to foot and hand
to hand, wrestling for the mastery, when
the door opened, aud the schoolmaster
of Bonchurch entered. Instructive rev.
erence for the good man made the
blacksmith pause, and the boy broke
from him trembling violently, and now
subdued to tears.
81 am sorry to see this" said the mas
ter. "What is the matter?'
The blacksmith muttered something,
and his wife took the stick from his
hand.
"They are always quarrelingi, said
/ she.
"what have done ?" exclaimed Har-
ry; but it don't matter, master; 1 like
you-you have been good to me, and
shall think of it; but as for him-I hate
him and despise him, and have moth
ing to thank him for; and after this day
will never see his face again, nor eat
of his bread"
Iu an instant the lad was gone.
Some hours after, the master returned
home, and the first thing he did was to
take his strap from the table and put in
the fire.
His sister smiled, but said nothing.
Afterward they conversed together re-
specting the poor boy, and the master
expressed some uneasy apprehensions
as he repeated Iarry's words on going
off. Those apprehensions increased
when it became known through the viii
lage that Harry Bonner was missing,
and could not be found.
At dusk the villagers were travcrsing
the road with lights-that old upper
road, which, viewed from the lower
cliffs, appeared but as lofty terrace out
OH the green mountain side.
At that time, the now fiourshing town
Of Ventor had scarce begun TO exist; on
ly few houses relieved the pictui esqnC
wildiicss of the scenery. atnid which the
shouts of the villagers formed an excit
ing accompaniment to the dash of tho
waves aiS,ong the numerous breakers
and the fury ofan ~enuinoctial gale.
Up and down tho steep 'acoslivities o
that old road, winding about the face ~
the upper cliff, did the villagers con tinue
moving with their lights until long after
midnight, for the parting threat of the
boy mad caused Il general belief that he
had committed some rash act-perhaps
thrown himself over tho cliffs, or into the
sea.
What else could have become of him
He had neither money, nor food, nor
clothes, nor friends, nor any hope of
help of any kind that any one knew, out
of Bonchurch. One person limited al
gypsies, another at smugglers, and the
bold, energetic character of the boy made
the master fancy it might be possible
that he had joined one or the other
But gypsies had not been seen in Bon
church for many months, and the SNUG
glers of that pait of the island were wei
known to the residents, and oil goot
terms with them, and they denied an,
knowledge Of the boy.
Gradually the search ceased, excep
on the part of tho schoolmaster, VIII
walked in every direction, inquiring an
examining. But ut last, he, too, los
hope; and as he stood in Ventor Cave
when stormy night was darkenin
around, and the winds and waves rage
in fearful unison, he felt. Il melanchol
conviction that Harry Bonner was los
forever.
s. - -
: Iventy gears rolled away, and the dis
appearance of the boy was still Pre-
q found mystery.
The blacksmith had died of intempe
ance, and no one lamented him. III
5. masters sister had need of nothing MOI
4, in this world. Most of Harry's schoo
: mates were dead, and of those who su
q vived, scarcely any remained in the vi
1t lage. All was changed, but still IL
= schoolmaster lived in his humble co
l. tage, and kept school, but he was grow
ID old and solitary, and infirm; and
f. poor that he was almost reduced to
at shadow with hard living.
In his best days he eked out his lit
a. income by cultivating n few vegetabl
If and common fruit; and this was still i
a. resource when he could hobble out
,e fine days into his patch of gard
ground.
n. His spirit had been unusually depres
ed by the decline of his strength,
er poverty, his forlorn condition, and {
m memory of his sister, when at suns
one day, he stood ut his schvol-roc
/, window, looking toward the sea. T
nj lattice was open, for the weather W
warm, and his withered face felt refres
be ed by the breeze that played over it.
re But that which chiefly detained b
u there, and held him in a kind of fas
IL nation, was the unusual appearance o
ship of war, one of the most imposi
:" size, moored near Ventnor.
Sc The old mans memory was quicken
by the spectacle, and he thought
m Harry Bonner, who on tho day of
dy disappearance, had been detected
i'd: him watching just such vessel fr'
Use this window, while his neglected be
7er was thrown aside on the form.
ear Gazing and musing the master ste
while the shadows Of twilight gather