Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1870-07-08
wife, with desperate efforts and prayers


for her recovery. Ia 1.ye :, setrfa s..r. -
! Now it really does sometimes seem IN
I this world that the old proverb must be
true, that disasters never come slngly (;
certainly to this poor family in the light
house came many troubles, one upon
another. u K EK Fs0
1t was the third night of the gale, and
the ighthouse-keeper had just been up
| to the top of the tower, into the great
| lantern, to light the lamps for the night,
when as he was coming down the winding
| iron staircase, being giddy with grief and
watching, and just now oppressed with
a fresh anxiety because of some extra
work that must be done about the lamps,
that would keep him away from his poor
| wife 80 long, jim his worry and haste his
| foot somehow slipped on the staircase,
and he fell over the iron balusters, strik-
| ing heavily on the stone floor below.
The poor lighthouse keeper lay white
and motionless as if he were dead, with
the dark blood trickling from a wound in
his forehead, and away in the little room
| his unconscious sick wife on her pillow; ;
and saddest of all, poor Robbie yet igno-
rant of the half of his calamities: for che
| tall tower of the lighthouse was distinct
| from the low brick building in which the
family lived; and although a passage
walled and ceiled over connected the two,
the noise of the waves was 80 tremendous
/ that a sound far louder than that which
the poor man made in falling could never
have been heard by his little son in his
mothers room. y ' ~-l-.sA oA@1'
Robbie, however, seeing by the refec-.
ton outside, which made all the Island
bright, that the lamps were lighted, won
dered and wondered why his father
did not come. The sick mother
had ceased that pitiful moaning which
had made her seem so unlike Rob-
bie's own mamma, who never muir
INJURED at all when well; she had fallen
| into a deep sleep, and Robbie stole softly
out Just to tell his father the good news.
Not finding him in the kitchen, he ran
through the passage-way into the lower
part of the lighthouse, where were the
great oil.vats from which the lamps were
filed; there were windows in this room,
too, through which the lights of the tow
er cast back their reflection, and there on
the stone floor he saw all that had
happened. .9ASs ,TfgN erBa .VeEr
1t would not have been very strange if
SO yousg boy as Robbie had been. too
terrifi ed to do anything but sit helplessly
down and cry at knowing himself alone
out there ON the ocean, with no human
being who could hear aAcry or lift hand
to help either of his parents so terribly
stricken down; but after moments be-
wilderment and choking sob or two
Robbie stopped down to see if his father
we 8 yet alive, and finding that his pulse
still beat, he began to think what he could
do to save him. a - VEy q
Living where he did, this little boy had
been used to sights of great daring and
noble courage, and these memories nerved'
his young heart. He had seen shipwreck-
ed people snatched from the boiling waves
at the utter risk of the lives of those
who had saved them, and brought in to,
the lighthouse to be 1abored over for
hours by his own father and mother, who
now lay helpless, with none but his child
| ish arm to aid and the little lighthouse
lad betoek himself to his work with
| presence of mind born, perhaps, of these
solemn experiences
1t was severe strain and struggle for
the young child to draw his fathers help
less form along the passage-way into the
kitchen, but it was a bitterly cold night,
and he knew that he must be. brought
| where there was fire, or what little life
was left in him would surely be extin-,
| guished. And by that great strength and
courage which love and faith give even
to young arms this was somehow accom-
plished, and Robbie soon had his poor
fathers silent head supported on pillows
before the kitchen fire, which was burn
ing warm and bright. Then he stanched
the blood flowing from the wound
in his forehead, and brought spirits and
other restoratives such as he had seen
used for people who lay thus insensible
but though after a time low means escaped
his lips, the injured man spoke no distinct
word, nor even once opened his eyes. a.
Thus through long, strange hour, be-
tween these two the young watcher went,
the sick mother sleeping the sleep heavy
with the exhaustion of fever, and the
father equally helpless and unconscious.
The awful maddened ocean Numbered on
without; the deluge of rain and binding
snow had ceased to fall, but the waves rose
higher than ever with the long fury of
the gale; through the little windows they
| could be seen rearing their monstrous
white heads in. the alternate bright light
| and black shadow that the great lanterns
made, like crowd of horrible rushing
phantoms who were bound yet to drag
| down the lighthouse and all it contained
into their abyss. 81,
There came fearful moment when
| Robbie thought this was verify to be; his
young head swan, he could scarcely see,
| but surely, surely those bright streams
and black shadows were not so distinctly
marked over the foaming water; they grew
fainter,-ore long glistening beam vanish
ed utterly. Robbie knew the real truth
in a mOment,--th Island was not sinking,
but the lights, the great lights in the tow
er, were going out
Alas it was the anticipation of this
that made Mr.. Malcolm's fatal haste and
hurry; there was some special work that
must be done to keep the lamps burning
that night. --
l suppose with all our imagining we
can scarcely imagine what this new fear
was to the little lighthouse boy. 1t was
something that beat in his blood and
breathed in his breath, that, whatsoever
else happened, those lamps must never 60
out.
"Be faithful" There are no words of
all the words that are spoken that Rob-
bie's mother had taught him more earn
estly than these; that to be true to your
trust to be as sure and certain to your
promise as the sun to the sky, was the one
quality that above all others m ade a man;
that human beings were necessarily so
bound to each other by thousand mutu-
al wants and dependencies that faithless
and lying people were the very worst he
could encounter; because in the very best
and smoothest times men must constantly
confide in each others honor, and in life's
rough and dangerous ways, ali, what
would become of them if they failed then
In their mutual trust?
What would become of them. the moor