Litchfield enquirer., 1876-06-08

eia changed to the sobbing and waillng o w0filbn and little children about our door Twice did the tall clock strike off tho FllOurs which we kept our weary vigil, anc still they did not return could no stafd it any longer, with only Janet te scroon ont doiefnf tales of death aud ship wreck which she has seen along this very ssry coast. II wrapped a light shaw abouI me, and crouched nnder shelter Of the doorway. peering into the darKness, an; hearing the sobbing and wailing louder al the time Then the slow steps of mel sounded along the shIngle. and before could dark back into the house, father and Ben came up the esrocks. and two ol three fishermen with them.
 'sThfs storm is making a power o trouble Tong shore, said old Dirk Van Brunt. as he saw me shlyering in the door way: and then Ben whispered, ''Go in Jetty. quick, and tell Janet to get blank cts and bed ready. Here's poor young fellow inst about drowned, and cut or his head besides. Do what you can, dear and I'll fetch doctorsp
 Thssfaces of the men were grave as they bore their burden past me; but l laid 6 detaining hand on father as I gasped, Was it ship?'
 "No, child, he answered: "one O them frisky little yachts, reckon. It went straight on to the reef, and split up like an egg she'll
 Were the men all killed 2
 "Swum shore-all but this fellow: suth in struck him on the head, and Ber had to bring him in.'
 And then the men crowded about him and began to strip off his wet coat and sec to his brulses, while father was slowly ar ranging bed and blankets with that steadi. ness and gravity that come with age and experience.
 Here, Jetty." he called to me, when they had gone quietly away again, and we were left alone, 'come here and look at him. child, and see what you can do Women's fingers are kind O handler than ourn."
 Iremember how I stopped over the bed. saying, under my breath, "What g handsome man !" l dipped handker' chlef In water the bound it about his tenn pies. where deep cut was visible, while every nerve tingled with youthful eager. ness. sat down beside him, studying his face, wondering all the time who and what he was, if he were really ill, and ii he would die. It was almost an hour be. fore the doctor came, and all the time fa- ther and l sat by him. watching patient. ly, and saying very little. Sometimes oul charge would lie with closed eyes and scarcely perceptible breath; again he would turn his face toward me, seeming to study me in puzzled. dreamy way. He was very quiet, and appeared grateful for all we did, but his voice was so low we could scarcely hear what he attempted to say. l Lad plenty of time to study him in return. I often wondered; as I sat there, what kind of life it was we had saved-if, indeed, it were saved He was very handsome, though brown and tanned by exposure; but his forehead was broad, aud white as girls, and his hands ex- quisitely shaped though large and strong, and on the third finger of the left hand giittered heavy ring Was this man by whom sat. quietly ministering to his wants, living power for good or evil, for truth Or falsehood, in the world? Were pure, loving women waiting for him at home, or was his life SO worthless and void of love that. were he to die, he would never be missed at all? I wondered if he had father or mother, a sister or broth. CT;
 "Or was there dearer one
 Still, and nearer one
 # Yet, than all other7"
 And when his large blue eyes opened and fastened themselves upon me, wandering over my face, my hands. my dress, and on to fathers gray hairs, then back to me again, I felt myself blushing, and think. ing surely it were blessed thing to save one life in the world.
 When the doctor came i was released while the strangers wounds were dressed. They proved slight. after all; it was more the shock given his system; the wounds were really nothing; yet, buffeted as he had been by the waves, life had so nearly ebbed away that it was necessary to have quiet and gentle care for few days And father insls'ed. even when our guest was well enough to sit up, that he should stay with us
 ''Tain't any trouble to help human be- ing live, let alone 8 handsome young fell CT like that" he argued to me. "He can haul rope as good as any on us along shore, too-an outspoken, free-hearted chap, an quite sailor. Twa'n't his fault his boat splis up on them rocks; nobody could ha' done any better in such a gale. J
 So he staid, We knew him just as we'll in four days as if it were as mauy years. I had to wait on him good deal at first, and often read to hlm, answering his questions about the books that had fallen ill my way. l thought him litlre inquisi- tive; but then was very proud of my reading, having just come out of school, with all my knowledge at my tongues end, as it were. I often wondered what made him look at me SO much; not rudely indeed, nothing that he could do would ever have seemed rude; but he looked at me with sort of studying expression, as If he were longing to read and understand me. And was 80 simple, and such a child, it surely was not a hard task-at least 1t did not seem to be hard to him. When, in return, studied him furtively, as indemnity for hls persistent scrutiny of me, he seemed sort of incarnation of high art, while poor ben vas reduced to the low est level of manhood. It was sure- ly no wonder felt as if I were in dream. Ben came and went just as usual; but af ter a time-why. l could not tell-I began to dread his coming. For one thing, was afraid he would talk to me again as he did that night the Butterfly ran on the rocks and MT. Arnold came to live us. What should I say to him if he were to ask me again if loved him?
 .'Stay with me. Jetty, dear." said Ben one morning, as I tied on my hat and pre-. pared to go down on the beach with Mir. Arnold. ''I haven't had you one minute to myself since that night we lit. the lamp together. I Ishall be jealous of this city chap if you give so much of your time to him.
 But father does not think him strong enough to go of alone," I said, hastily. "And he wants so much to see the rocks the ButterJay struck when she went down. the tide is at ebb now, and we can see them plainly from the Point. Come too, won't you, Ben?' amended.
 No. said he. stoutly. 'I won't come, Jetty. I can't talk like city chaps. He and I'd never have q feeling in common il we was together all our lives. Sometimes sometimes" land his tone was 8 little bitter) I've wished hadn't a-been the rrlSa k0sh shn.- T l.. z lz