Connecticut western news., 1877-07-06

me. do not know. Louis was no swimmer; and besides, that was not his way of doing things. His was delib- crate and thoughtful rather than rash and venturesome nature. He called to me eagerly that he was going for help :; should wait; should drop the oar |; in few minutes he would get a boat. saw him hastening 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; I saw it all but 5dimly now. Wearily dropped the oar and sank back in the boat. Surely I need do nothing more. Oh, surely Louis would rescue me! He would not let me die alone within reach of his loving arms 1 Night was creeping on with twilight on its garments hem. I could, see that lone and shadowy ship lying at anchor beyond the bar. If only could reach that ship! But the current would drift me past her in an instant. Wildly and longingly now I call for help, stretch ing my arms outyearninglyt toward that silent vessel; but nothing answered me. i 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 overfiowing love that fulness of life and pleasure prof fered me? .-f ......-.. .......- Afraid? We'll, yes; I was afraid; for one brief moment, as covered back into the boat, shrinking in the solitude of the awful waste of waters, fear of that unknown world into which I seemed sailing oppressed me. But I bethought myself that if must die it was better to die bravely. Perhaps I was going to meet Jim. If I were in that other world, that ought to be a cheery thought. No doubt he died bravely. But acos he dead? Jim, my old staunch friend, whose glad, good face had brightened my wretched child hood, oh, where acas he!
 It is said that in the hour of death the memory of past events is preter- naturally vivid. And as my mind re- verted to those old days, forgetting my later life, forgetting my later friends, and forgetting Louis, felt sure that was going to die. A trance of peace came upon me, in which I seemed to clasp Jim's warm hand again, as in days of old. .... ..-s- "Jim Jim !' I called aloud, rousing myself as from dream, yet dreaming still. But nothing answered me. The 1 darkness was growing deeper, the cur rent more rapid, and Louis, with his soft taper fingers, would never reach me now.
 Unconscious, half delirious, I must have been, perhaps, for it seemed to me I that Jim, OH whose name called, was spirit, and that his presence, some where near me, was upholding me in this hour of need, as I drifted further and further away from all earthly hope. How long, l know not; how far, I know not; it seemed to me had been on the way all eternity, and-had or had not heard through that death dream an answering cry? Did or did l not see mistily, as through a veil, the spars and shrouds of that silent vessel that had afar off been watching my struggles with death? And, great God was it Jim's face-dear old Jim's faee-bending over me, and was this Heaven?
 "My dear," said Mrs. Belden coming into my room one morning, ''you are getting quite strong again; the sea ail has done you world of good-in fact you look better,I think, than before your accident. I am thinking we may as we'll return to the city as soon al you ike." 'a,.
 I was lying on couch by the window looking out upon the sea.
 "Well," said I, absently, in hal reverie. .-..,. .- . -...
 tYou feel quite strong, do you not
 dear ?'' ... ''Oh, yes ma'am," said I, rousine
 myself; ''quite strong-stronger thar
 ever."
 I was stronger than ever; since tha night when Jim saved my life, swim ming out to my sinking boat agains the current, and risking his life to hell an unknown waif-unwitting that i was his little nursling of old who wa
 in deadly peril-since that night , world of new thoughts had come crowd
 ing in upon me, sharing with me thei , strength, and making me ashamed o
 the idle, silken life was leading. , know not what premonition of change of banishment, was tugging at m.
 heart this morning as looked out owe
 the gleaming waters, and filled m!
 eyes with tears. .4
 f "You are sorry to leave the SC c shore ?' said Mrs. Belden.
 ''I was thinking of Jim," said D honestly. "How can leave Jim ?''
 Mrs. Belden's face flushed. ,- 1 "Jenny," said she, severely, Co
 course we all think good dsal of you I sailor friend for saving your life; bu
 you must be aware that he is no
 companion for you, and that his con stant attendance upon you since tha accident has been much annoyance z myself and Louis."
 At that moment Louis tall figure ar r. peared at the door, queer smile wa n on his pale, thin face, as holding or n his long white hand to me he sait k "Jenny, your sailors below.''
 t. "I have just been telling Jennie, ! said Mra Rn1dan Ithat xua Idust o. l. her away from the sea shore to free he d from these low associates.''
 1t Low associates! Jim, my prince