Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1874-06-27
DEATH-t' NITED.

DEA n-t M EDs
Not a trimmer little craft sailed out Of the
port of Sterling than the Sea Nymph.
She was Il pretty. lrhooncrrggcd Sloop,
of considerably over one hundred tons bur
den, that rode the blue waters as laintily Is
iairy's rose-leal barque, and, with canvas
set, bounded before the wind with IL grace
and speed that made her the admired Of all
Strriiny'> mariners and the pride Of her
captain heart.
Her captain--hy, burly, wcathcr-hronzca,
smiling -faccd-wa> Oliver .Arlo. Jolly and
kind hearted. he had always been Il !;lyoritc
with his townSncn-wcl liked by his crew.
lie WAS Il man Of perhaps, fifty Years, aud
his life had known bat one ealing, that of Il
seaman. Though he had sailors natiycly-
reckless generosity, and houndlrss cXtraya-
gancc, he had contriycl to purc!msc him Il
snug little home and lay ap y modest little
sum, whcrewith to support tlr bIXom-!accd
wife and two mrrry-cys,! daughters who
dwell, there. Many a long t.ip had he takcn,
in his YOUTH on iar-away whaling voyages.
In later years. many Successful cruiSa in
his own trim schooner. Lastly, unable to
keep Il resolve to quit hi~ dcirly-oycl pro-
ic>sion. he purchased the Sn Nynph, ply
i.. it. for several ycn:s. between hi,
Northern home and the Wr~, Indian ports.
Bat this was tn he hi last trip. He WAS
getting old, he told Iii nri,hbor~. laugh
inglv. though few @rry iair> were discern
i'le among his carly brown locks. Yes, his
last trip; he had promised Catherine 50,
and the little onc>-hc called them that yet,
despite their sixteen and eighteen Years
and they came down to the pier to see him
off Their arms clung abpnt his neck.
their kisses fell ,wcctly on his ruddy lips and
Drowned cheeks.
''Good-hy, Kate. Good-by, @ir-. Only
eight weeks and I'll be- home, to settle down
into a great, luhb'r-hcad of Il land>man.
Good-hy, my cherries, good-by.''
Ono last, warm hug, and he sprung
aboard the to,>in. craft
Slowly she Swung bose from her mooring-
and fell away from the pier. With Il
hcuyc-ho" the white >aiiS slid up ,hc
ma>ts at the will Of the Snrwy-armcd sailors.
Fora moment they Mapped, and throhbcd,
and beat about, in the crisp November gale
then, like white wings, they wcrr spread
full t" the winds. Away. through the shaft,
of cold, pale sunlight, that fell aIhwart the
gray, toam-tpped waves, the Sea Nymph
sped down the bay.
On the pier white handkerchief fluttcrcd,
and faces were unclo~dcd by any dream illat
this parting might be unlike those that had
been before. On the sloop five rough,
kind-hcarted sailors, and one passenger,
lonely JcSsaline Cannon, watched the reccd-
ing shores
Jessalinc Cannon-tall supple, slender,
beautiful, with beauty Of grace, Of form,
OF ace-black-robed Jessalnc Cannon,
shiyering at the bitter. merclcs~ breath Of
Noycmber-lcaned against the hatchway,
tears on her checks, dull, aching misery in
her heart.
Captain Arlo found her thus.
"Why, Miss, you amt sca-Sick or hum
sick, a'ready?'
mo, neither; the only home have
known is Cuba"
"Well, we won't he long Citing there,
ef we hev good winds and cf We should
have spell O rough weather, this ere
crafts as taught a little I'M as is going.
You amt afraid, are you?'
"Oh, no, and I'll try not to be any
trouble"
'Lor' bless you you won't be any o.
that! My gals have been many Il trip on
the Sea Nymph. Blazes how it blows,
'Tain't fit for You up here" and the kind
captain escorted her below.
Upon the low berth in her little state
room, wrapped in shawlS, Jc>Salinc, with
closed eyes, lay still and idle most of the day.
Her fingers were intcrtwncd conyul>iyely
across her breast, and over her creamy-hued
face, marblc-lke in its palor and repoSc,
great hot tears crept occasionally from be-
tween the heavy black siIken lringc~ of her
closed eyes.
She had tried not to think for the past
few days-shc had no choice now. The
maddening thud. thud, thud. and sudden
great splashes Of the water against the
sloops side-the mournful creak of boom
and cordage-thc Shrill circingS Of the
rushing wind-the dreary monotony Of every
thing about her-forced JcS,alne' 5 thoughts,
by vividness of likeness, to the dreariness Of
her own life.
Poor JesSalne' How she sighed for tho
happy days of her childhood and budding