The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1874-03-07
nunht 10 b a little keerfnl what

| III row VI cross L We say 50; taiifl
lear dark yet, and il is rather hard
"n a Young gal like yon - live il
this stone dungeon yeal in and yeal
out. wish ] hall't told >am he
could lave tie day to himself
lnt ueyer mind; III be hack lpnq
before Iigh'i.' time le...aaft
Lucy Frightened up like a rose
after a shnwer.
"Oh, father, ! am 50 glad! I d.
50 want to g."
She triplpd backward and for
ward, adjusting the round lat
with tie ,tarlet wing, folding the
brown shawl, and re.araagilg Z ne
coral series III her hair, while old
Isaac, with his tnr cap on, aid his
hands IN the pocket coat, watched
her with q proud, amused sense OF
proptietor>hip.' NJ 5Hif.oi X
">he's more like one o them
foreign birds with plamage ike
fire, and little, glancin' ways, than
she is like human critter!p'
thought the lighthouse keeper ~
know | am goiu' clean agim a |
rules anu regulations, leavil> the
place alone; hut 'twoh't he hut for
a few miputes, and ! don't ike to
disappoint the gal, her hearts 70
ka del sut ob't! l'ye got to be
alber aud mother both to the child
-aed N.e's a good gal and a
pretty one, too, i she does happen
t. Ne Isaac I'enritI's darter."
"l'Il carry the flowers over,
Iatber," said Lucy, removing them
fipm tie vase. and wrapping a bit
M paper round tie damp stems.
'"FIere is not much left in tile farm
lNdlp garden, ard they'll help to
make tie Thanksgiving tahe gay.
Now. father Pin ready"
hAitl Al I>aac' Penrith pulled tie
s|ell.like little buat out to sea, with
the hong, steady, vigorous Stokes
that betokeled his daily habitatlon
to Ire ol, the deep, he fell into a
musing remembrance Of the far.
away i.llanksgivings Of his youth,
w,tIt their rams Of red and golden
leaves, a,si the odoroto sweet fern
inthe pastures, aud the old red
farmhouse amo 9 the bleak New
hNgland hills! And unconSciously
theroar If the green, translucent
tides became the wall of wind in
upland forests, and I.ucy's blooming
face opposite him seemed her
pother'S smiling out from the miSts
Of years .c.ea
Nor was the salt drop on old
lsaac's cheek the, spray from his
steadily Dipping oar. ..e.
Lucy penrith sprang lightly to
her teet, as, the. keel Of the boat
grated softly oil, the smooth shin
iig sand ofthe beach.
"Yoa WI ! walk up to the house
with me, father. See how high
ire sui Iis!m '.'9' '1. WV
Isaac stopped and secured his
b)atto a heavy projecting rock BY
means ola loop 'ots Heavy rope.
o'l'n Co." "he aid briefly, adding
within himself, "and if Philip Mar
tin's there, I'll triig her back with
me again. ! don't.like his fathers
sonWu iiufsj a y"
The old brown house stood q
little way back on the beach, with
a smooth stretch ofsilvery sand IN
front, and acluster Of Black green
cAdaS in the rear, tossing their
plumy hands aboutin the biuster-
ing salt-scented gale, and q group
otmerry-makers, young and old,
in their Thanksgiving habiliments,
were on the porch awaiting the
arrival of the newcomers.
HOh, Lucy, we thought you
never were cMning!' said a bright
eyed little damsel, whose hair was
blowing about ller face like a mist
ofrippIel gold; what made you
sollate.i AhdPliil Martin"
id.ucy'sl, appealing, frightened
glance stopped the hsli:uttered
senteIreSl,ort; bit Isaac Penrithr
had caught its meaning staf1
"Lucy," he said. drawing his
daughter aside Is the grCnp hurried
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