Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1877-09-06
Vol. XIII. Whole No. 1892. No. So.

q swimming match. Ihe purple sheen OF
the sea tinted the sails Of the sloops that
lay idly rocking at anchor. The rocks,
trees and lawns showed black against the
sky. Far away the Boston outer light
flashed like newborn star, aud disappear
ed with the revolving turret. The twink
ling lamps around Nahant neck formed
long crescent of light, like picture of a
scene ia Venice. With full warm tide,
balmy air, and the witchery OF moonlight
thrown over the scene, the young couple
dashed hand in hand into the surf. The
love of Que was yet unspoken, and that
ofthe other unconfessed, but their conf
deDce and happiness were mutual. Both
were good swimmers-Grace especially
being light and swift In the water, from
long practice ard fondness for the sport
No shivering dips or timid paddlings Tor
her but with movement worthy OF her
name. she would disport herself in the
waves like a veritable mermaid.
They were swimming fifty yards race,
out beyond the surf and Grace was sever
al lengths ahead, when she heard cry;
The cramp, Grace ~ aud turned to see,
John clutching convulsiyely at the air.
Before she could reach the spot he had
gone down.
There was no boat that could be made
available In time 10 help her, There was
not a person within call. She must save
him or he would die. John die? The
thought revealed her heart Is she had new
er seen Il In her passive happiness.
In moment the head OF the drowning
man appeared above the surface.
Put your hands on my shoulders" she
said quickly, but firmly. II can take you
ashore"
What should have been a touch-a light
pressure for support-became frenzIed
grasp under the peril and desperation of
| the moment, and John bore her down with
him In ten feet OF wat er. AS she had
been superior to Mysteries above, she was
stronger than despair below. His hold
| relaxed as he touched bottom, and tear
| ing herself from his loosened grasp.
Grace seized him by the hair and bore
him out OF the grave for another chance
at lite.
Seeing at glance that while John WAS
unable 70 avail himself, of her help, he WAS
| still dangerous to face, she diyed quickly,
caught him by the heel with one hand, and
( with swift strokes dragged him through
the water to the beach.
| How she did il she never knew, but she
took the dead weight Of his limp body IN
her arms and ran with ii to the dry. sand,
a "A mother might run from peru with her
| babe.
As she turned his face to the moonlight
it was still, and white, and dead.
great fear smoke her heart, but there was
no time for delsy, and love was stronger
than despair. A fash OF recollection
from her reading came to her help. Put
ting her fingers denly into his mouth, she
pulled down his tongue. Swiftly turning his
head down the sloping beach, she rolled
him on TO his side aud rocked him back
and forth, pressing his sides and chest.
| Almost Instantly the salt water ran igurs-
ling from his mouth, and d Yasplng breath
showed that John was saved
\ man needs to be very Thoroughly In
love to sense things thus, under the cir
cumstances but as John felt the pressure
OF the soft hands upon him, aud saw the
sweet. anxious face so near his own, aud
heard the Iartlculate mQrmuF OF mingle
eudearment, fear aud gladness, he did re-
member OF reading now delightful drown
Ing i after the struggle is over!
IL would be pleasant, and quite the usu-
al thing, to say that John caught his fair
rescuer 70 his bosom, aud then aud there
asked her to take the life she had saved
while Grace completed the tableau by faint
nS. But noting Of the sort happened. In
the first place John hadn't life enough Ia
him foE such an exercise, and Grace wasn't
that Kind of a girl. What she did was to
run 10 the hotel and send men and a doctor
TO bring him up In chair, and then walk
home by herself, take a hot drink and 20
10 bed-where she woke up with start
aud cry every hour through the night, to
sink TO trouble sleep again after thank In.
God that dear John was saved.
When they met again, three days after
wards Johns bearing was changed. His
eyes, and his voice, too, were full of tears
but his manner seemed constrained. He
had the reserved, deferential air which
poor young artist might assume toward
| Kind patron. He took the hand that had
saved him aud kissed it many tunes, say
iny brokenly; II cannot thank you other
| wise"
Grace WAS sobered, likewise, and could
not speak the light reply she had framed
in advance. They had both been face to
tace with death, and such an experience
wldens the horizon OF thoughtful souls
immeasurably as much as looking
out over the open grave of one we love,
into the infinite spaces. When they
were together, his look followed her
| everywhere, with an Intensity aud ab-
| straction new TO him-with longing that
vas pathetic in its apparent dumb hell-
| lessness.
| Grace knew that she loved him-she
| telt that his heart was hers utterly; and
| yet he was drifting away from her. Was
| It his pride that kept him from asking the
| supremest gift from one to whom lie al
ready owed SO muchl Or was it a kindred
feeling-a mistaken mannish sensltiveness
| that its victim thinks to be chivalry? Grsce
did not know, but she set to work upon
the problem that wonderful combination
OF will and automatlsm, which men call
brain, and write learnedly about and uu-
Hars 10 nd hffla In ha -.
in the busiest day,-while we soundly
sleep or are absorbed In other things. the
mental machinery Is at work unconscious
ly to use on the puzzle that had ba1ied
thought. And lo!-some day of days
some Instant OF time when We waken or
sit in the car. or stop in the midst of our
toil-hash! comes the solution.
The friends were together again for the
last time, on the dear old rocks by the sea
The season was over, and John was going
back to his clients and Grace TO her desk.
| They were so truely friends tha they
could be content in long silences when In
each others presence In the woods or BY
| the shore. One can make q shift TO talk
with almost anybody ; but 1t is a kindred
| soul with whom one e Djoys and share
the charm of blessed siiences. For an
hour they sat scarcely speaking. their
memories touching fondly and regrefully
upon the scenes 50 soon to be left behind.
The poet chose well, ," said JohL at last,
Iii is the cruel, crawling seal can but
| think, after all, that the mountains, lakes
and woods are better. 1t seems more than
ever like primal work-so crude and DESC
late. SO treacherous and destructive, that
it is easy to imagine the pleasure with
which q beauty-loving Creator turned
from this to clothe the earth and adorn
it,
''Ah, yes" mused Grace 10 her turn,
"but the sea is more kind than fate. II Is
less capricious than man. 1t IL changeful
yet ever the same like woman. 1t casts
up treasures as truely Is 1t engulfs them.
1t kisses the shore though 1t smites It, 1t
reflects the collar of the skies-would that
man could do it so faithfully 1t seems to
me often an imperfect but yet striking sym.
boil of human life. | have even known
cases of resurrection out of its depths" she
added significantly, with glance at the
scene OF Johns rescue: ''but they say"
continued the girl abruptly, ''that even in
3 fla foaA off hnf naf fan Of Aaat