Prescott journal. [volume] (Prescott, Wis.) 1861-1871, 1870-06-23

ly upon the sand. All, what fine fun he
was having.
1t was evening. The setting sun bath
ed the entire coast in purple, and the wa
Ter, still and peaceful, reflected this scene
of splendor.
Auge had tied string 10 his little
shoe and had thrown it out upon the wa
ter.
"Mamma," said he "look see nv Fine
Anguile! In minute ! am going to
make Storm"
sand he splashed away with his bare
foot.
The little shoe tossed from one side to
another; finally 1t filed with water
Jeanne looked up and said, Naughty
boy ! put on your shoe. Quick!"
Just then somebody touched her should
err. 1t was stranger, from Paris, per-
haps. This seemed probable from the
naughty air, which people from the city
always have, and also from bis cold, harsh
look, and his pale countenance.
Jeanne was frightened.
81 want a boat" said the strange per-
son, to 90 OFT into the offing." Jacques
approached. "If you like, sir, am
ready. Here, Fanor!"
"What, take that brute along with us I?
Horrid cur! He is filthy and smells of
old fish,"
Il will not go without my dog" said
Jacques.
"Come" said the stranger, "this beast
is of no use. l will give you louis to
leave the dogr' Jacques looked ut his
wife hesitatingly. Jeanne was pale. The
stranger tossed the louis into his hand.
Just then Ange cried, "my shoe has
gone to the bottom" And Jeanne said,
''don't go without the dog"
Soon the Fine Anguile left the shore
and, breaking through the rosy wa er,
disappeared in the distance, like a faint
cloud.
Jeanne turned again toward the house,
carrying her child, whose little foot hung
bare over her dress.
When she reached the heights, she
turned to scan the horizon. She saw n
thick gray band stretched along it,
Seized with anxious forebodiDg, she
paused.
"WiIl it be fair!" she asked of Father
Lucas, the COW herd. "What sort of a
night will they have over by the Thunder
Rocks and the White Mare, and in the
offing?"
Father Lucas, in turn, scanned the hor
izon.1
i. "Fine- Anguille is good sea boat!'
said he, and passed on with his cows"
at is the wind" thought Jeanne, as
Ange, by an unconscious movement, COW
cred his foot with her apron. sit is the
wind! God be merciful to u.s." Then
she entered the house.
AT ten o'clock gusts began to blow
The waves moaned piteously. Jeanne
could not sleep. But neither the moan
ing of the wind nor wave could disturb
Ange as he lay wrapped snugly in his
cradle. His mother struck light. One
is not so much frightened when one can
see clearly. Then it seems as if one
could do anything, but what can one do
against the wind?
THE wind! o my God the wind"
cried Jeanne. "But at any rate, Fanor
is with him!'
Then, as everything creaked and moan
ed around her, she fell into a slight SUM
Der. She saw the great sea with Its
frightfuI CULTS, its white yawning mouth
and threatening rocks, and its deceitful
shoals. She saw her child on the beach,
splashing the water with his naked foot.
She saw the little wooden shoe which
had been shipwrecked, then she heard
the voice of Ange murmuriug, oil make
q storm
Jeanne trembled.
Then, as the roof of the cottage NOV
ed and creaked, she remembered how the
waves had entered the little shoe.
All at once she rose up and took ADge,
fast asleep, in her arms. She threw her
cape over her shoulders. 1t was raining
hard. and the wind blew strongly. She
lit lantern; a sudden gust put it out,
and she was left in the darkness. But
the surf made so much noise that ii serv-
ed as a guide. She reached the beach in
safety.
"Angel o, Angel! if Fine Anguille has
perishedi'
The belfry of Larmor stood black in
the sombre night. aud the sea dashed its
white form at the very steps of the
church.
Jeanne seated herself on the damp sill,
and, wrapping Ange in her cloak, waited
with longing eyes, counting every wave.
Slowly the day broke, and the storm
abated rs the sun rose. 1t shone first on
the fortress of Port Louis, then along the
rest of the coast and Jeanne saw, the lit
tie wooden shoe broken among the peb-
bles. Broken and yet so light! 1t
ought to have foa:ed!''
Then Jeanne saw the Fine Anguille.
Her sail was rent and tattered. Her
broken mast hung half in the water. All
that could be hoped was that she might
come in with the tide. and that Jacques
would be able to avoid the rocks. Per-
haps they still preserved their oars! As
she listened she thought she heard them
striking on tho rocks; but no, it was the
wind. The broken mast might still serve
10 hold them off the rocks. Already she
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