The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1877-01-04

4
with broken masts drifting helplessl
in-a shapeless hulk, from which ever
now and then came the awful thud of
minute-gun.
"She viii drift into the cove, and o,
TO pieces on the inner breaker" sail
Mr.. BrentOn. "Soon, at this rate o
tide. There 60 the hook and ladde
boys" as the gallant fremen, VIII
usually took upon themselves the par
Of salvation at a wreck, raced by
Rockets and lines enough in the lif
stationl" shouted Mr. BrentoR, though
the wind blewth words down his throat
al shall leave you in the tavern witt
Mr.. Charles, said he to his wife
"while go down and have look a
things" And presently the little I'M
came in sight behind its bulwark o
sand hills, and they were driving int
the yard.
But what desolation was the I'M
and its surroundings The sign anc
the flagstaff had been Frustrated by
the gale, and the yard was sheet Of
saltwater, in which all the debris Of
the place, the pigs, the dogs, and the
buckets, were promiscuously swimming
The piazza was under water, the lower
noor of the house was all ahoat, the I'm.
derpinning of the sheds and tie-ups
had given way, and the buildings were
leaning to their fall, while the old wind
whitened willows looked like witches
with their gowns tucked up as they
stood in the overflow. Mr.. Brenton
drove close to the bulwark of the sand
hills, left his wife in the phaeton, and
leaped out upon the sand, climbed the
low mound, and ran down where the
men had Clustered and were at work
upon the best they knew to save the
wreck.
Standing up in the carriage, Mrs.
Brenton could see all that went forward
below, could see the broad breast of
the sea feathered in thousand plumes
of snow, while she felt the shock of
every surge of the boiling surf, and
trembled every time the great spouts of
foam went flying high as clouds where
the ledge ran out to meet the open fury
of the lashing pillows. She could see,
too, the dead pail of the sky lift, shade
by shade, as the wind went hauling
round to the south; could see the part
ing of that vapor bank with the first
full puff from the south, and the wreck
starting out like a sudden creation,
black with its ruin on all that tumultu-
Gus gray and silver, still slowly rising
and falling and drifting in with the tide.
When she turned her head she could
see, also, the life in the inn yard,
in curious prosaic contrast to the
tragic terrier just beyond. Not that
you could call it every day life, because
it was not every day that the little pigs
were swimming round in the barn
yard, squealing as the Newfoundland
swan after them and grappled an ear;
it was not every day that the good tav-
erner, Mr.. Charles, was wading about
in his top boots, inspecting the general
cout, of only a fraction of which he was
yet aware, rubbing his hands, and con-
iucting himself as if to have ones house
and goods afoat was little occasional
sccentricity on the part of Providence
with which one must put up. Then she
-urned her head and saw the wreck
again, still drawing near and nearer
ner dreadful doom with every throb of
the surf, while the men ran to and fro
upon the shore, and the red stars of the
rockets one after one went shooting out
and falling short of their mark. 1t
seemed to Mrs. Brenton that she could
even see the people crowded on the
deck; she fancied one fgure was a
woman with a child in her arms, a wom-
an standing just as she had stood on
that black, that horrid night, when the
sea snatched her darlings from her
clasp. An agony of pity overcame her
as she thought these people could
probably see her there in safety while
death was believing for them. She sat
down a moment and covered her eyes;
the sight and the memory were too
much for her; instructive prayers rose
to her lips for the safety of the wretches
driving on so surely to destruction; be-
fore she knew it she was praying for
that mother with the little child in her
arms, was praying with all her heartfo
the little child.
OF a sudden, as she sat there with
her eyes closed, there was shock as if
the sky had fallen and the earth had
risen to meet it; she sprang to her feet,
and saw that the wreck had struck,
had struck and parted, and wild, wild
wall, a chorus of despair, rose above
the beating of the waves.
Mr.. Charles waded out to where the
phaeton stood up to its floor in water,
on one side of the yard, and handed
her his long spy-glass. As she steadied
it and gazed with aching eyes at the
horror, there came one of those mighty
throes of the tide when the whole sea
seems to be heaved from its bed; the
parted wreck heaved with it, far, far
up; cry like the ghost of the first cry
was heard sweeping out and away, and
in another moment there was nothing
to be seen, neither wreck nor people;
they were as utterly gone as if they had
never been.
A long, swift searching of the sea,
and then Mrs. Brenton leaped from the
carriage to the sand, climbed the
mound, and ran down the beach as fast
as the furious wind that swirled her
clothes about her would allow. ~
"Don't you see ftp" she cried to her
husband, breaking in among the knot
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