Litchfield enquirer., 1876-06-08
Harpers Monthly 1Gsgazinss IT V ask E9 HOW MY SHIP, CAME FROM olER

HOW MY SHlP CAME IRON ONkR 1 THEssEA.stgzlt. ua..l E Y belong to sea-faring race I, the last lsof my family-'ssonly a little girl. . as faths l CT used to, call me, shaking his head, as if to be only girl were the direst calamity I that could befalf this old home of ours.
 such weird, beautiful place 10 live and
 house on Stony Point. of which nay father
 had been keeper for many . year. We two were alone in the world. except for the faithful old woman who had taken
 care of ns ever since l. baby girl, had been placed in her arms by dying moth
 CT. Janet taught me womanly, house wifely ways when I was out of school,
 and, even as a child, knew how to mend.
 and keep the bright rooms neat and clean against the time when Ben dropped in af- ter the work vas done.
 Ben was a stout ydAng fisherman, and l owned as neat little craft as any along shore, and Ben-why, Ben had been my | lover ever since was old enough to lisp his name. I can not remember when. in
 some way. my life was not bound up with
 his. He held my hand and guided me over the rocks to the village school with
 more than the care and fondness of elder
 brother, when I was curly haired lassie of four years and he stont tall lad of ten.
 Yes, Ben loved me then just as truly and
 honestly as a hen, years afterward. came home from pretentious country board ing-school, full of grand Ideas and long ings to be lady, and little shy unrest at my heart when met my boy lover oh the sands. But he-he kissed me before kokl hesitation, "Oh. Jetty, how beautiful you have grown P And then knew that his love was just the saine-indeed, how man to change? But he was no longer fisherman. He was mate of the Betsey June, a stanch new ship that lay rocking in the bay, with white sails fodded-rock- ing idly on the summer sea, as if there were no such thing as storm and tempest for it to brave. He was going away just as vas coming home-going far of to foreign ports; but never q day passed by without his stopping at our door, never an evening that he did not drop in for a smoke and talk, with father, it is true, but most of his glances found out furtively were given to me.
 One night, when sudden storm was sweeping over the sea, Ben came in with hearty ejaculation of. thankfulness that all the fishing boats were safely hauled up along shore an hour before. I sat by the table knitting. a crimson scarf. and as the bright worsted fell from my fingers, my thoughts, like birds of passage flying hither and thither, scarcely kept pace with my flashing needles. I remember how cheery the room looked, with it's white sanded floor and the square of gay striped carpet in the centre of it; the big bunch of syringas on the table filling the whole air with dead sweetness; the light from the lamp dancing on the picture frames, the tinted shells, and strange things that sailors had brought to us from foreign ports. Iremember, too, how the wind roared and how hoarse was the cry that sounded from the rocks below. How the waves were seething around them, and laundering along the beach. Woe and wreck 1t was crying to many a heart; and what had to fear, and what did know of woe and loss2 Perhaps when Ben was gone might think of him in the roaring gale, but now-ail, the wind sings |, different song to us when we are young And stole a glance at him, met his eyes, and mine dropped upon my work again. When another and louder blast surged oAouuSA OhO uOucO Woo SI3u 1O ucdT 16- ther say. ''lt's dreadful night Jetty, I can't rest easy till the lamps lit, child. It's early. but suppose you see to it.''
 ''Yes, father,'' I said, hurrying away.
 went up to the tower, but before lighting the match I opened the small window and leaned ont. The wind blew in, drenching my face and hair with sud- den gusts of spray; but still knelt there, looking out over the tossing waters, the rain beating against my hot cheeks like dusky wings, the roar of the surf sound ing in my ears, and yet hearing, or think ing that heard, above it all the beating of my own heart. I think in the moment it came to me what it was to be woman in that sense of the word which implies a consciousness of different nature and ex- istence pulled down the window and strnck match. Just as lifted my hand to the lamp heard 8 footstep on the stairs; then Ben stood beside me.
 "Let me do it for you, Jetty." he said; "there Il be time enough afterward for you to come up here alone. How your hand trembles, dear !"
 And in a moment more I stood under the full blaze. with folded arms and beat ing heart. looking ont over the great wide circle of sea that spread itself before wind ow dark, heaving mass, the white caps rolling in and crashing on the rocks be. low. He drew met to him, leaning over and looking out, though it was much too dark for either of us to see any thing but the line breakers.
 ''You will be lighting the lamp for me one of these days, Jetty," he said,. softly, with that pathetic tone into which the voice slides SC easily when one is break Ing away from home and friends for the first time. And .hen, as tried to free my hand from his. he put one arm about me and drew me closer to him, kissing me on my forehead and lips. "When come home, he went on. ssmay I claim my little wife? I've never asked you be. fore-I don't know why-I took things for granted like; but can't go away now without promise Can you be content with a rough fellow to love you, dear ?- and I'll be good to you, Jetty, all my life. ' I leaned my head against his breast, and tried to hlde my flaming cheeks. Hasn't she one word to say. after all these years? . nestled upon his broad shoulder with a feeling of infinite content. You ought to have known. Ben. I said, with little laugh. '.I never loved any body else in all nay hfe;" and I put both my hands in his, and hid my face again. -4fasF l.
 ''When take my next voyage, my wife shall go with me, . he whispered; and then heard father s voice at the foot of the stairs, calling, s# 'Beni my boy. Ben Dirk's come ID to tell me there's q vessel in the ofing steering straight on to Roy's Reef There'll be trouble as sure as fate, and we'd better Bee what we can do." Ben caught me iil his arms and kissed me. 'sGood-bs, sweet heart !sI hescalled out. as he ran down the steep stairs. ansfi me alone. Event up to- the window qakain, shading my yes with my hand and tying to see, but the night had fallen swiftly: and while We had been dallying in the tower. perhaps poor souls out wonder were drifting toward the fatal reef. fI knew it we'll When the etide was ont, and the sea still and calm as a sleeping child, the great jagged rocks. black with slime, would rear their treaeherous heads. Some. times, when the spray dashed wildly over | tlQua if fn