Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1877-10-30

"Because--I am a Spaniard myself. .and
many years ago. things you could not uD-
derstand, embittered me against home
and country My true name is Martinico
DeScoto, and il is high and powerful
family to which the name belongs. 1t is
thirty years since have spoken my right
name, until DOW. But TOR your sake
will take it; will 60 to Spain. / know
you are Spanish; Yonr looks, your man
ner, your accent, all declare it; and the
pieces of the wreck that driited ashore
were of Spanish make"
IL know so, too" said the child pas
sionately.
1T is but a slender thread to go by,
but we will fallow it up closely. The
money ! have boarded all these years,
knowing no use for it. will serve US well
now. Come, Meme. it is getting late, let
us 90 in. Tomorrow we will be getting
ready for our journey"
Meme walked on slowly. This was a
great change that was coming to her,
She looked wistlully about her. She al
ways thought of the spot in after years,
as it looked that night. A wild, bleak
point. stretching far out to sea. The wild
est, bleakest part of tho whole coast
High banks OF sand, with here and there
high boulder, nothing that looked like
human habitation, only the black hull
of a chip rising out OF the sand.
This was what Martin called his hut.
This was where he and the child lived.
The portfolios served for windows. and
the inner part spoke well for Martins me-
chanical skill and genius. She thought
too, OF the rude fishermen along the coast.
Sle had been as a queen among their
wives and daughters. They had ever
recognized in her something above their
own coarser natures. 1t was they who
gave her the name of Ocean Pearl
She said to herself that she would never
forget them as long as she lived.
Tho next day the sun rose fair and soft
and radiant. Martin. the fisherman.
mended no nets on the sand that day,
and the child's purchases of yesterday,
lay unthought OF in the boat. The sun
rode on to its zenith. Then Martin and
L hn
might have known the two belonged to Il
warmer cline, by the way they luxuriated
IN the hot rays. The blue smoke curled
laziy from Martins Meerschaum. as he
lay with eyes half closed. Meme could
see just then whale spouting.
They neither OF them knew of the Gu
rous ship that, with white sails all set
and filling in the breeze, bore down to-
ward them. The fgurehead at the bows,
h4lf-woman, half-ish, glittered, and seem
ed TO move its golden, FURNISHED scales as
alive. The dainty barge, with its score
of swarthy, foreign. dressed rowers, put
off from the vessels side. Nearer and
nearer they came; lady seemed TO be
urging them on. She was nearly buried
in the pale-blue cushions, covered over
with rare East Indian shawls, centres OF
vivid scarlet contrasting richly with their
borders of heavy fringed gold.
Meme had often imagined how her
mother would look. pale-iaced and rich
looking, with SOFT eyes searching Tor
something lost. She was buried IN one
Of those day-dreams now, as she gazed
absently out upon the water, seeing no
thing but the whale spouting and the sea
meeting the sky. When Martin touched
her, she turned absently.
MAMA, mama" She stretched out
her arms to the soft-eyed lady. Here,
then, was the reality of the dreams and
longings. Martin could but believe in
the resemblance between the two; he
placed Meme in her mothers arms. No
other proof was needed beside this sud-
den faith that held their hearts.
The Spanish fleet sailed out OF the har-
Dor after a while, bound TOR Spain, and
Meme was carried away forever from the
wild scenes Of her early childhood. Her
name was now Nina Castells Fanella.
So you see. her own baby lips had fash
ioned the first name pretty closely, when
she called it Meme And Martin, or
rather, Senior Martinico DeScoto, went
with her. He walked the deck like
Spanish hidalgo. He was to live with
Nina and her mother, and was contented
to 90 back to the world again, since he
had something in it to love and cherish.
All the rough fishermen focked around
Nina's ship, to take last glimpse OF the
beautiful child who, for ten years, had
beamed upon their rough lives like some
shining star. Their tears dropped fast
and thick as they bade her farewell.
Goodbye. Heaven be ever with you.
The good God bless you, little "Ocean
Pearl" they said huskily.
And never in all her grand and happy
after life did Nina Castella Fanella ever
receive better wishes or more fervent
blessings; yearly did she send them from
over the sea many substantial token oil
her remembrance OF their kindness. And
she lived as she had dreamed, in fair.