Edgefield advertiser. [volume] (Edgefield, S.C.) 1836-current, 1871-09-07

you must know-along the edge Of
the cliff. The seas for centuries have
, been washing that chalk-bound coast,
and at intervals there stand up pill
lars of chalk, with seas around them.
The people call such place :" No
Mans Land" and no man can own
it, truly. Well, Joe came to one Of
those within a few feet, say twelve,
) from the cliff, and turning to me,
said, /" Joe, Junior II think I see
: his bright face now-"I challenge
you to jump on that mo Mans
Land I do. 4
"Joe," said I, hurriedly, "don't t
be fool 1t may be would give way
at the top, and if it did not, how
could you Jump back withouta run :?
You'd be. stuck on the top like mad
sentinel or pillar saint. I'm not
going to jump it"
"But / am, said he. And before
I could stop him, if needed I had
tried, be took a run and jumped.
It was so sudden could only stand
aghast when I saw him there. He
stood, indeed, for moment, dthen
he took back step, and would have
Jumped back, when I heard a rum
bling, sound, and half the top Of the
No Mans Land" part, and the chalk
and earth, and Joe, too, fell down,
with crash on the rocky coast be-
low.
I ran round the little creek to the
other side of a small bay, and throw
ling mvself down on the turf, stretch
ed my neck over, looked over and
cried out: "Joel Are yon hurt,
Joe?"
A faint voice came up, and I could
see the poor fellow struggling under
a huge piece of chalk, which seemed
to hold him, down in agony. He
smiled in a ghastly way, and said:
Run, joe, run the tides coming
lin!"
Well, I did run, and we got ropes
from the tents, and few strong fel-
lows held them as l swung over the
cliff just reaching poor Joe as the
cold water was lap, lap, tapping up |
to his mouth, taking away his breath,
and then running back, crawling |
over him and leaving bubbles of salt |
foam, as if in sport. I got, him out,
but he could not stand. Some bones
were broken and he was badly bruis-
ed, so that I was forced to tie him to
a rope, and they hauled him up, and
we took him home
Well, we'll, to make long story
short, poor Joe died, with my praise
on his lips, and Alice bowed her
head like broken lily. 1t was
long time before she got over it, and
summer had grown into winter, and
winter to summer, to autumn, and to
winter again. The threatening in
vasion was all over; our swords were
getting rusty, our uniforms dirty,
and when the holidays came I left
the firm in which / was partner,
and went to spend a fortnight at my
old friends in Kent.
Alice was there, we'll and cheerful
now, and reconciled to her loss
though we often talked of poor Joe,
and as the days wore on we grew
clos r together, and she called rie-by
name, and seemed to have transferred
her brothers love to me. She never
told me so or let others see it, till me
mety Christmas night, when she re-
iected all her cousins and her other
friends, and would only dance with
me.
We had the mistletoe too. At
last, one madcap fellow proposed that
the ladies should kiss the gentlemen
all round when and how they could
and Alice should play, too; and she,
in solemn, quiet way, smiling sad
ly, and yet sweetly, too, took me
beneath the Christmas-bough, and
kissed me on the lips.
Ay, it's many years ago, but I feel
it now.
Ny heart beat so fast that I hardly
dared return it; but ] put my arm
around her and took her gen ly by
the hay-window Of the old hall, say
ing as / pressed her hand Alice,
dear Alice, did you mean that kiss ?"
Well, need not tell you what she
answered. 'Tis fifty years ago, fifty
years ago and am surrounded by |
Alice's dear grandchildren, and there
is one, little thing with light and
golden hair that will deepen into
brown, who plays around nv knees
and tells me her little stories, her
sorrows and her joys; SO quick, SO
hurried in their coming and their
going, that they are like my own, and
as we talk, we grow quite friends
and companions, as my Alice'was to
me.
Bless you, she understands it all.
She is woman in her pretty ways;
her poutings, pettings, and quarrel.
ings. She manages her household of
one wax doll and two wooden ones,
and tells me-for the wax-doll is the
lady and the two wooden ones are
the servants in mob-caps and stuff
gowns-when they gossip with
wooden policeman, who belongs to
her brother, little Joe.
So we are fast friends, little Alice
and I and tonight, l noticed that
she would not dance or play with
the pink and shiny-faced little boys
who were unnaturally tidy and clean
in their new knickerbockefs, with
red stockings but she came and sat
by me, and talked softly in the fire
light, as Alice did, and made me
think Of fifty years ago. And only
think how old times come back and
new times, like the old; only just
think, that when her mother told her
she should choose sweetheart, she
got a little bit Of mistletoe, and
climbing silly on my knee, and hold
ing me in talk as if to hide her pur-
pose, though / guessed it soon. I
toll Won she put her little doll-like