Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1873-12-30

| WIN gouI Udlll-Slleel, lHdSteT
Why-why--in the name of mercy
doesn't he haul aft his main-sheet (!
He's doing it! Now you jibs
your jibs! Oh, why am l here!
Fonder gets the cup"
The boats came on. The air was
alive with cries and screams, and
the trumpets and guns made more
noise than ever.
The Daphne was first, the Petrol
second, and all the others every
where behind. The great schooner,
rising and plunging in the green
sea, hugged close to the wind, and
covered her decks with spray.
From her immense canvass, tower
ing and swelling in the air, there
came deep roar, and her dizzy
mastheads cut huge, wild circles
against the azure sky. Her black
and glittering bow turned an emer-
al furrow, and behind her there
boiled a cauldron of foam. She
was a million times swan. She
fed like frightened fish, and it
seemed as if she were about to
rise into the air.
She approached the home-buoy.
George felt himself cast into
dust.
81 didn't think she'd do that for
any other person but me but, like
all sex-ah, what a pace that is !
look at those sails swell hear the
masts crack; and see the mist about
her bows! If Mamie were here,
Tom, believe--by gracious, there's
n woman aboard! A ,comdn, il
you'll believe it, aboard a racing
yacht Fonder's sister, l suppose.
Pat this instant the Daphne shot
past the judges, at the distance of
three hundred feet, and a prolong-
ed cheer rolled down from tho hill
sides, and .teu de .joie burst from
the guns upon the beach. Flags
dipped, fleets of yawls put out, and
sounds of applause arose from all
quarters.
The Daphne rounded-to, and the
peaks of her sails dropped with d
rattle. The yachtsman. oppressed
with n load of sorrows, started
! gloomily. 1t seems as if the lamp
of his happiness had gone out. Ho
could not cheerj he could not be
glad; true, his yacht had won, but
yet she had won for another man.
His occupation was gone. He was
no longer sailor. He was a book
work.
He cast an aliens glance once
more upon his boat. He gave n
violent start. Then, with single
bound, he threw himself headlong
into his yawl, and, shipping his oars
like lightning, was off with his
yacht. He saw Tom and bawled:
"That is not Fonder's sister, It's
Mamie |" Townsend laughed, and
called Polly to look at the flying
hero.
Mamie was waiting for him,
blushing like rose. He leaped
aboard, and, speechlessly seizing
her hands drew her to the other
side of the main-sail, and there en-
braced her privately.
He stammered through two or
three explanations, and she, with
scant articulation, detailed the de-
fault of Fonder, and her usurpa-
tion in "y-your" absence of the
command of the Daphne. 1t was
therefore clear to the yachtsman
that the boat was still his, and that
the Won Schoonhoven Cap was still
his, and that the loveliest of all won.
en- was still his.
He was overcome by the cloying
flood, and was helpless. He could
only sigh and look into her eyes.
go George, that l should ever
have thought that you were doing
wrong" she faltered; "that 1
should ever have been your critic.
All, Polly made me so ashamed, so
sorry-so very sorry, was very
much crushed, George; l longed
to find you; l hoped that you would
come so that l might say that We
must be to each other as we were
before. l didn't know how much
you were to me. I thought for q
little while that we would separate
as strangers separate; but oh, that
dreadful loneliness that came over
me- All was 80 black-so wretch
ed But" (here she put q little
more silver in her tone), just at tho
worst of it the sailing master came