Iowa voter. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1867-1874, 1871-09-07
Waiting for the Ship.

About an hours ride from the Plaza
| there 10 q nigh bluff with the ocean break
ing uninterruptedly along its rocky beach,
There aye several ttages on the sands.
which look IS If they might have been
recently cast up by a heavy sea- The cul.
tivated patch behind each tenement is
fenced in by oainb0os, broken spars and
driftwood. With its few green cabbages
and turnip tops, each garden looks like
an aquarium with the water turned off
In fact you would not be surprised to
meet norman digging among the pota-
toes, or mermaid milking a sea cow
hard by.
Near this place formerly arose a great
semaphoric telegraph with its gaunt arms
tossed up against the horizon 1t has
been replaced by an observatory, connected
with an electric nerve to the heart of the
great commercial city. From this point
the in coming ships are signaled, and
again checked off at the City Exchange
And while we are here looking for the ex-
pected steamer, let me tell you story:
Not long ago, a simple, hard working
mechanic had amassed sufficient, by dill
gent labor in the mines, to send home for
his wife and two children He arrived in
San Francisco month before the ship
was due, for he was Western man, and
had made the overland journey, and knew
little of ships, or seas, or gales He pro-
cured work in the city, but as the time an.
preached he would go to the shipping Of.
flee regularly every day. The month
passed, but the ship came not, then
month and week, two weeks, three
weeks, two months, and then year.
The rough, patient face, with soft lines
everything its hard features, which had be.
cone daily apparition at the shipping
agents, then disappeared 1t turned up
one afternoon at the observatory, as the
setting sun relieved the operator from his
duties. There was something so child
like and simple in the few questions asked
by this stranger, touching his business,
that the operator spent some time to ex-
plain. When the mystery of signals and
telegraphs was unfolded, the stranger had
one more question to ask. "How long
might vessel be absent before they would
give up expecting her" The operator
couldn't tell; it would depend on circum-
stances Would it be year, Yes, it might
be year; and vessels have been given up
for lost after two years, and have come
home. The stranger put his rough hand
on the operators, thanked him for his
trouble, and went away. Still the ship
came not. Stately clippers swept into the
gate, and merchantmen went by with col
ors flying, and the welcoming gun of the
steamer often reveIberated among the
hills. Then the patient face, with the old
resigned expression, but brighter, wist
full look in the eye, was regularly met on
the decks of the steamer as she disem-
barked her living freights. He may have
had dimly defined hope that the missing
ones might yet come this way, as only an,
other road over that strange, unknown ex-
panse. But he talked with ship-captains
and sailors. and even this last hope seemed
to fail. When the care worn face and
bright eyes were presented again at the
observatory, the operator, busily engaged,
could not spare time to answer foolish in
terrogatories, SO he went away. But as
night fell, he was seen sitting on the rocks
with his face turned seward, and was
seated there all that night
When he became hopelessly insane for
that was what the physicians said made
his eyes so bright and wistful, he was
cared for by fellow craftsman who had
seen his troubles. He was allowed to in
dulge his fancy of going out to watch for
the ship in which she land the children
were, at night when no one else was
watching He had made up his mind that
the ship would come in at night. This,
and the idea that he would relieve the OPP
orator, who would be tired with watching
all day, seemed to please him. So he
went out and relieved the operator every
night.
For two years the ships came and went.
He was there to see the out ward bound
clipper, and greet her on her return. He
was known only by few who frequented
the place. When he was missed at last
from his accustomed spot, a day or two
elapsed before any alarm was felt. One
Sunday, a party of pleasure seekers clam
bering over the rocks were attracted by
the barking Of a dog that had run before
them. When they came up they found
a plainly dressed man lying there dead.
There were few papers in his pocket
chiefly slips cut from different journals
of old marine memorands-and his face
was turned toward the distant sea.-Bret