The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1876-11-03

me eagerly that he was going for help;
should wait; should drop the oar; in a
few moments he would get boat. 1
saw him fastening along the shore at the
top of his speed; saw the solitary
shore, the deserted fisher huts, the far
stretches of sand he would have to travel
before reaching the little fishing village;
1 saw it all, but dimly now, for l was
floating further and further away.
Wearily dropped the oar and sank
back in the boat. Surely / need do
nothing more. Oh, surely Louis would
save me he would not let me die alone
in reach of his loving arms! Night was
creeping on with twilight on its gar
ment's hem. could see that lone and
shadowy ship lying at anchor beyond
the bar. If only could reach that ship 4!
But the current would drift me past her
in an instant. Wildly and longiugly now
called for help, stretching my arms out
yearningly toward that silent vessel; but
nothing answered me. The shore had
grown far and dim, and dimly. strangely
the stars coming out with their unfamiliar
beauty made me afraid. Sad, solitary,
and deserted, was / going to my death
out of all that bright afternoon, that
overfowing love, that fullness of life
and pleasure proffered me2
Afraid9 Well, yes, was afraid /; for
one brief moment, as L covered back
into the boat, shrinking in the solitude
Of the awful waste of waters, fear of
that unknown world into which seemed
sailing oppressed me. But bethought
myself if must die, it were better to
die bravely. Perhaps I was going to
meet Jim. If he was in that other
world, that ought to be CHEEKY
thought. No doubt he died bravely.
But was he dead2 Jim, my old, staunch
friend, whose glad, good face had
frightened my wretched childhood, oh,
where was he?
1t is said in the hours of death the
memory of past events is prenatu-
rally vivid. And as my mind reverted to
those old days, forgetting my latter life,
forgetting my later friends, and forget
ting Louis, felt sure that was going
to die. A trance of peace fell upon me,
in which l seemed to clasp Jim's warm
hand again as in days of old. Jim
Jim called aloud, rousing myself as
from dream, yet dreaming still. But
nothing answered me. The darkness
was growing deeper, the current more
rapid, and Louis, with his soft taper
fingers would never reach me now.
Unconscious, half delirious, 1 must
have been, perhaps, for it seemed to me
that Jim, on whose name called, was
spirit, and that his presence, somewhe
near me, was upholding me in this hour
- II 1..f IL al e. H.
away from all earthly help. How long,
1 know not; how far, know not; it
seemed to me had been on the way to
eternity, and. Had had not heard
through that death-dream an answering
cry9 Did or did not see mistily, as
through vail, the spars and shrouds of
that silent vessel that had stood afar off,
watching my struggle with death2 And,
great God aOas it Jim's face-dear old
Jim's face-bending over me, and was
this heaven2
"My DEAR" said Mrs. Belden, coming
into my room one morning, "you are
getting quite strong again; the sea air
has done you world of good-in fact,
you look better, I think, than before
your accident. / am thinking we may
as well return to the city as soon as you
like"
was lying on a couch by the window
looking out upon the sea.
"Well," said 1, absently, in q half
reverie."
"You feel very strong, do you not,
dear2"
"Oh yes, man," said I, rousing my
self; ignite strong-stronger than
ever"
was stronger than ever; since that
night when Jim saved my life, swim
ming out to my sinking boat against the
current, and risking his life to save an
unknown waif, unwilling that it was his
nursing of old who was in deadly peril.
Since that night world of new thoughts
had come crowding in upon me, soaring
me with their strength and making me
ashamed of the silken life was leading.
/ know not what premonition of change,
of Punishment, was tugging at my heart
that morning as / looked out over the
cleaning waters, and filed my eyes with
tears.
"You are sorry to leave the sea-
shore 2" said Mrs. Belden.
II was thinking of Jim" said 1, hon.
estly. How can 1 leave Jim2"
Mrs. Belden's face flushed.
"Jenny," said she, severely, "of
course we all think deal of your sailor
friend for saving your life but you
must be aware that he is no fit companion
for you, and that his constant attend
ance upon you since that accident has
been matter of much annoyance both
to myself and Louis"
At that moment Louis tall figure ap-
peared at the door, queer smile was on
his pale thin face, as holding out his
long white hand to me, he said, "Jenny,
your sailors below"
81 have just been telling Jenny" said
Mrs. Beldon, that we must get away
from the sea shore to free her from these
low associates.
Low associates Jim, my prince Of
men, my savior
L see but one course, and yet these
two had been 80 kind to me all these
years, they had made my life so luAu
rious and pleasureable should 1 &C
away from them into the obscurity anG
poverty of my early life againG
AT that moment Jim's sunburned fac,
I appeared at the door. He stood will
| hia cor, in hia hand aa0ar vat rnodaaf