The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1877-03-26


block and pencil out Of her pocket and
settled herself on the rocks, while Bell
scrambled up the steep hillside, search
Ing for rock-tern, stopping here and
there, and presently going out of sight
behind turn.
Lett alone, Marcia tried to sketch, but
soon she dropped her pencil to watch
the waves as they came rolling in and
broke on the rocks, sending up showers
of spray.
A flock OF tiny sea-birds flew close to
the edge Of the surf, turning so sharp
an angle as they rounded the cliff that
miscalculation as to distance, and
dashed themselves to pieces on the
rocks. A tish-hawk circled about in
The air above hers then a gull came by,
close enough to show the silver sheen Of
his breast, and finally flew OIL to sea in
a zigZag route. AS she followed him
with her eyes till he was lost in the dis
tance, Marcia thought, III one could
only sit on his back now, and see fairy
lands, like the fairy on the swallows
back in Hans Andersen. Pm like
the gull myself; how L should enjoy
going through The world, zIgzag, as
ia a mind Io,' and a half pity be-
gan to creep into her heart of the women
who were content to live lives shut in
by four walls, and sewing societies and
all other things that she cordially de-
tested, but which it was supposed by
the world in general to be the whole
duty OF woman to enjoy, without a
thought OF the tree world outside which
is for men only. just then the sound OF
singing reached her ears, and she turned
ner head to see little boat, with two
men in it, row past-as near in shore as
Twas safe. One. was gunner, and the
other man she knew well-a broken
down sailor, who had once shipped as
''able-bodisd seaman" but whose day
for that had long been over. AS he
rowed he trolled out a sea-song, sung
by many q sailor as he weighed anchor
or reefed topsails, outward bound. 1t
Twas this:
| "Pm bound away to leave you;
| Good-by, my love, good-by!
Don't let my absence grleve you;
| Good-by, my love, good-bY"
And then he was too far off for her to
hear any more. 1t wasn't exactly a
tune, but the refrain had something
touching in it as it came to Marcia over
the water, and "Good-by, my love, good
| byp rang in her ears, and her thoughts
went back to the lover she had known
and loved SO long ago.. Where were all
her feelings of glorious independence OF
| a few moments before? for tears filled
her eyes at the very thought Of him and
| a sad reflection OF what Bell and Charley
were to each other, and of how lonely
she would be when her aunt Persis died {.
tAh mep' she sighed, "I'm only
a Weman after all, a and lonely old maid"
But as she sat and gazed into the dis
tant horizon the sense OF vastness
brought with it new strength, and she
startled herself by raising her arms to
! Heaven, and exclaiming aloud II will not
| be lonely If am an old maid and alone !;
my pictures shall be my children, anu
| nv fancies shall all be good and pure
| and true, and the world shall be the bet
ter for my having lived in it," But with
womaps strange contradiction OF
moods, tears filled ner eyes and bitter
yearning wrung her heart.
But as she thought of one lover, one
long halloo from another startled her,
and looking up, she saw Kingston hold
| ing up sume ducks limp and lifeless, as
he came striding toward her over the
rocks.
| Lunch was eaten, but it was not the
Jolly day they had planned. The girls
made a wreath and bouquet of rock
| ferns and tiny purple asterS, and when 4
O'Clock came they were again within
sight OF the house. An open wagon
with the seats taken out stood backed
up TO the door, while the quiet old horse,
with the reins tied up on his neck,
cropped mouth(ul or two Of grass. A
man stood near his head VINO had a
| pleasant, CHEEKY face, and Marcia went
UP to him and asked him Iew ques-
tions. He picked up the AK and made
one or two lunges at the log of wood by
| it; occasionally caught 1t and pulled il
| out with jerk, ana spoke i'll low tone
as if unwilling to be heard. Presently
there was little stir in the DOORWAY,
and the man went back to the horse's >
| mead.
| Four men brought out the coffin and
pushed il into the wagon with harsh,
grating sound. II was stained in imita-
| ton oil black walnut, but was without
plate or handles. Then came the minis
ter, small, pale man, looking worn
and tired, but with gentle expression
in the eyes, which rested on Marcia's
face for an instant. With very slight
bend of the mead to her, he took mis-
place before the horse, and walked to
| the brow of the hill where the road made
a sudden and steep descent;the man led
| the horse, and the four bearers walked
two on each side. They stopped at the
| TOP, and then the man at he horses
lhead looked back with an iDquiring air;
then-ohl mockery of griet-came the
Perkinses; he, subdued and shuffllng;
she, with an air both defiant of the opin.
ion of the world and filled with an as
sumption OF charity and forgiveness for
all sinners. Mrs. Perkins rested the
ends of the fingers Of one hand in the
awkward crook OF Tim's arms, as if de-
termined to observe the proprieties; the
| other was,as usual, half over her mouth.
Then came two or three neighDors, one
or two old fishermen with some attempt
at Sunday garb-a best coat perhaps
over the blue shirt of every day wear;
two young Yellowstone farmers boy,
the other sailor-rough, shy and cast
ing glances at the strangers as they
passed them awkwardly holding their
mats and forgetting to put them on till
they came up to those before them.
Then followed one or two women, thin
and prematurely old, glad to have even
a funeral to vary their monotonous exis-
tenca, and clad in u queer mingllng OF
clumsy limitations OF city styles and
curious old scarls or yei.s from far over
the sea. One young woman, of all these,
! looked sad and sorry; she wore rusty
black and thin Grape veil, limp with