The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1877-06-09

to their rescue. But how long would
this faint hope sustain them? how long
could they keep their hold with this icy
numbness creeping over them?
They waited-at first full of impossible
plans for escape, then silent. Who can
tell what thoughts came to their minds
Captain think of his brothers, yes, and
his father before them, to wonder if the
sea would be his grave as it was theirs?
and the poor fisherman-did he not
feel, in a hooking dream, the warm,
cllnging arms of his babies around
his stiffening neck? But Franks
thoughts were all Of his mother, swell
ing his boyish heart till it seemed
ready to break, as he fancied the bitter
ness of her grief if he never came back
to her. The townspeople often called
him mothers boy, not only because he
had grown up under her sole care-and
it was evident that he was the one pre-
cious thing she had still to live for-but
also because of a certain neatness in his
dress at all times, and gentleness and
refinement in his speech and manners,
which might have come from that con-
slant womanly influence. Many feared
that his character might lack the manly
virtues of courage and decision; and even
his schoolmates, when the love of teas
ing was very strong, would call him
" mothers baby" and "Franky," laying
an insulting emphasis upon the last syl-
liable, so that he had begged his mother
to call him Frank, which she did, unless
in a moment of tenderness the old baby
name slipped from her tongue. If the
veteran seamen of the place could have
known the situation of this forlorn and
shivering trio, what hope of rescue
would they have found in the disabled
Captain, the inefficient Smith, or the boy
who, according to theirpropheCy, would
never be good for much, brought up so
soft by women"
The clock in the steeple of the village
church struck; the sounds were faint, but
they could count the strokes.
Uncle Charlie" said Frank, "is that
twelve o'clock"
eyes"
Don't the tide turn about this time?"
asked Josiah.
1T has turned" replied the Captain;
lit is ebbing now"
"Then," cried Frank, "we'll drift out
to sea; everybody will be home to dinner
now; no one will be likely to come to the
shore for an hour, and perhaps no one
will see US todayw
Frank" said his uncle, earnestly,
"keep up your courage-don't give up.
My miserable head is beginning to whirl,
and | may drop off soon; but hold on
think of your mother, Frank, and keep
at1oat as long as you have your senses"
But even while he spoke he felt how
slender was the chance that the poor
mother would ever see her living darling
again.
The mention of his mother called up
before the boy her gentle face as he saw
it last, smiling at his boast of swimming
from the "NeCk" to the shore. He had
never heard that anyone had ever per-
formed that feat; but would it be posi-
bic to swim from the boat to the shore,
through the icy water and the wide belt
of entangling eel-grass? 1t did not seem
so far to the Meek" and there was
no dreaded eel-grass on that side to
catch his feet and pull him down; but
the nearest point was fully two miles
from the lighthouse, the only inhabited
house there. He might reach it alone,
but could he be so mean as to leave his
uncle without an effort to save him, and
poor 'Siah, too?
"UnCle," said Frank, 81 am going to
swim ashore; here we are right opposite
Capt. Wentworth's; can swim ashore,
get his dory, and come after you and
'Siah. think can do it; at any rate,
| can't hold on long in this wind, and l
shall soon be too numb to swim"
The Captain was silent could
he say? To 90 or to stay seemed equally
dangerous; but Frank, loosng the hold
of one hand, was already working his
stitfened fingers, and trying to throw off
his boots in readiness for start
Cor said his uncle; D." and God help
you"
And God did help him as he threw
himself into the angry waters and struck
out for the shore. He felt resolute and
confident, wasted no strength in uncer-
tain, hurried movements, but with DELHI
crate and steady strokes went on. The
tide being almost at the flood, he passed
through the entangled eel-grass with less
trouble than he had feared; on, on, stroke
after stroke, the shore seeming to grow
no nearer, until at last, with one final
desperate effort, he reached the shallow
water; his feet touched bottom, he stag
gered forward, and fell upon the sand.
Hardly minute would he take for
rest-the others must be saved. He
sprang up, waved his hand toward the
distant boat to show the men that he was
safe, and looked about-no boat in sight;
he ran up the sand to the boathou and
pushed at the door-it was lOckedi
Here was difficulty that he had not
foreseen;i it would take at least twenty min.
utes to run up to the house for the key and
return; twenty minutes lost, when every
one was precious! He seized something
heavy which lay at hand, and showered
frantic blows upon the cruel door; at
last it yielded, and there was the boat,
with oars all in readiness; he had
dreaded that the oars might have been
taken away. Yes, there was the boat,
but it was many feet from the water,
and it would be hard task for man to
drag it through the deep sand, while he
was but boy, nearly exhausted already
by extraordinary efforts; but he hardly
Of oil that ho 1o;J