The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1872-07-19
OHIO. FRIDAY MORNING, JULY 10. 1879. =. 3

steamer undertook the passage. A
terrible gale was blowing at thi:
time, and the steamer rocked on the
river; while every timber creaked anG
shivered in the awful wind. The
smoke stacks were soon blown down
As is frequently the case en- Western
rivers, the steamer was in charge O
a rough, drunken crew; and now
in a panic, they rushed among the
passengers. shouting, Boats afire
She will go like tinder in fifteen min
utes!"
or course, terrible scene ensued
In the gale and the darkness, with the
river at d-tide, the cry of the crew
was only too true the steamer wa:
actually ON fire. The men were whit,
with fright the women shrieked ant
tainted the children sobbed. Inth,
midst of all this clamor, one woman
stood quite calm. 81 was uncon
scious," SAID Mrs. Livermore, "of q
thrill of fear. / had a solemn con-
viction that should not be drowned.
She quietly disengaged herself from
her heaviest wrappings, in case tht
worst should come. A remari
which she had heard little while be
fore came back in that moment o.
of peril, l,-"Whoever falls into the
Missouri will not only be drowned, but
buried" She looked at the dark,
swollen mass OF waters, and resolved
that, God helping ber, if she found
herself in their midst, even then she
would net lose her presence of mind,
but hold herself up as best she could,
and not 60 down to be buried in the
mud Of the Missouri.
But that wonderful courage was not
put to the last test. The fire was ex-
tinguished the steamer outrode the
gale; and, when il reached the shore
the men gathered with loud praises
about the woman who had carried
herself so bravely through the peril.
But for her, she went straight to
the hall, and lectured to a crowd that
evening. That night, however, at the
hotel, Mrs. Livermore sprang seven
times from her sleep into the middle
of her chamber, crying out with ter
ror that the boat was on fire.
Amid our talk there shine two sen.
tences of my hostess, which have
come back to me so often, and which
seem two such clear crystals of truth,
that / cannot choose but write them
here. One was, "a divine discomfort
must pursue all human lives > and
the other, "Life is lonely to every
SOUL"
But the pleasantest hours have an
end, and we we're on the flood tide of
our talk, and Mrs. Livermore wore
the look of an inspired sibyl, and the
hours we're wearing toward midnight,
when the bingham pastor, with his
pleasant face and his air of the Eng.
lish squire, broke In upon us, saying
quietly, that tomorrow would de-
mand too heavy toll for the nights
lost sleep, and he must send us to
bed. 1 entreated him TO furnish US
with some cordial that would hold us
awake and alert for the precious
hours of that one night but it was
evident that his pharmacy yielded no
such inspiring draught; and his wife
Il must tell the honest truth here
seemed disposed to ''obey'' him with
as much meekness and alGcrity as
though she regarded that obnoxious
verb binding part of the marriage
covenant; as though she had never
stood upon platform, or preached
from a pulpit, or gone down bravely
to the hospitals and bound the quiv-
ering limbs of poor, wounded soldiers,
or held a cooling draught to their
tevered lips; nay, even as though the
woman whom Boston long ago gave
to Chicago, and whom Chicago, after
the grand work of the Sanitary Fair
was accomplished, gave back, in the
prime of her womanhood and the
ripeness of her intellect, to Boston,
had never waved the banner and
raised the war cry of "The Woman's
Journal