Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1877-12-18

well, folks called me young lady, an(
said that would marry Louis some day
And perhaps they might have beer
right !; but how could l be lady-a rea
lady, you know-with an old straw ha
and a ragged jacket slowed away in my
heart? Even after I grew up I had fits
of silent fretting for J i'm that seemed az
if they would eat my life away. Mrs
Belden said it was because was grow
ing, and she took me away one brigh
summer for the seashore. Oh, the sea
shore I cannot tell you what I fell
when first saw the seattle real sea-
stretching away from the white line O.
shore, throbbing and sounding as il
brimmed to the horizons edge. This
was the sea. the glorified sea the sea nc
longer grinly and smoky and gray with
getting its living, but thesea, translated
purified, made holy as if after DEATH
The days went and came, shining and
beautiful, and every day walked on the
shore with Louis, ran races with the
breezes, picked up shells, or gathered
seaweed or watched the sunset gliding
the sails of some far-f1itting ship. Louis
face was sweet in those days, and kind
as sunlight, and his voice was music to
me, for he said that we were old friends
now, and had known each other SO
many years that we ought to love each
other always. One afternoon we stray
ed farther than usual, and, the twilight
deepening as we walked, I think we
both forgot everything, save that we
were young and happy, and life was
glorious. Love! The word dropped
warm from his lips and seemed to color
all my future with rose tints. All my
past seemed sinking out of sight. The
gs teS OF paradise were open, and [ was
free to walk therein, if / would. Not for
me the barrenness, the disappointment,
that blighted other lives. might make
mine what would, with wealth and
love for my servants, and luxury and
JOY at my command. Ah,, well / re
member that afternoon by the sea; the
long line of white beach the overhanging
cliffs, the twilight touching the water
with golden glow, and glittering on
the tall lnasts, and ship lying at anchor
beyond. Oh, life was so beautiful! Oh,
love was so beautiful! A lightness of
heart, a>capricious, a. intangible, elf-like
mood fell upon me, born perhaps of the
very overflow of bliss. I remember
clapping my hands as I skipped along,
and challenging Louis to race. Perhaps
he had urged me too persistently to re-
spond to his affection, to say when /
would be his wife, Wife! l wanted to
be no ones wife just then, but only to
love and live. "Would / answer him ?"
sighed Louis.
when you catch me-" I responded,
mockingly, fitting about the sand
Away / went with Louis following,
breathless. We rounded the curve of
the shore, and was just about sinking
down upon the sand to wait for him,
when an old boat, with a broken oar,
caught my eye; it lay swinging in the
shadow just where great rock over
hung the beach. Lightly, thoughtless-
ly, stepped into the tiny craft, and
waving my handkerchief laughingly to
Louis, caught up the car. and set myself
afloat. I scarcely thought what I was
doing; it was q mere caprice, born of
lightness of heart and youthful thought
lessness. But single glance at Louis
countenance reused me to the folly I
was committing.
Come back come back "a he cried,
"the current will carry you out of reach
in moment!' II,
=. Still LAUGHING ! endeavored to obey.
Dexterously worked the broken oar,
diligently steadied the frail little yes
sci, but all my efforts only seemed to
bear me further and further from the
anxious face that was watching me.
Perhaps if Louis had then plunged in
to the water few strong strokes of his
arm might have reached and saved me-
do not know. Louis was no swimmer,
and, besides, that was not his way of do
ing thingl. His was deliberate and
thoughtful, rather than rash and ven
turesome nature. He called to me eager
ly that he was going for help; should
wait; shouldEdrop the oar; in few
minutes he would get boat. saw him
fastening along the shore at the top of
his speed; I saw the solitary shore, the
deserted fisher huts, the far stretches of
sand he would have to travel before
reaching the little fishing village 1 saw
it all but dimly now.
Wearily dropped the oar and sank
back in the boat. Surely need do no.
thing more. Oh. surely Louis would
rescue me! He would not let me die
alone within reach of his loving arms !!
Night was creeping on, with twilight
on its garments hem. / could see that
lone and snadowy ship lying at anchor
beyond the bar. If only could reach
that ship! But the current would drift
me past her in an instant. Wildly and
longingIy now call fol help, stretching
my hands out yearningly toward that
silent vessel ; but nothing answered me-
The shore had grown far and dim, and
dimly, strangely the stars, coming out
with their unfamiliar beauty, made me
afraid. Sad, solitary and deserted, was
going to my death out ali that bright
afternoon. that o9srhowing love, that
fullness of life and pleasure proffered
me?
Afraid! Well, yes, was afraid :. fpl
one brief InOlneut, as covered back in
to the boat, shrinking in the solitude OF
the awful waste of waters, fear of that
unknown world into which I seemed
sailing oppressed me. But bethought
myselfth if l must die it was better to
die bravely. Perhaps ! was going to
meet Jim, If he were iii that other
world, that ought to be CHEEKY thought.
No doubt he died bravely. But was he
dead? Jim, my only staunch friend
whose glad, good face had bgightened
my wretened childhood, oh, where was
he?
1t is said that in the hour of death the
memory of past events is preternatural-
ly vivid. And as my mind reverted to
those old days, forgetting my later life
| forgetting my later friends, and forget
ting Louis, l felt sure that ! was going
to die. A trance Of peace came upon
me, in which seemed to clasp Jim's
warm hand again, as in days of old.
"Jim! Jim!".I calld aloud, vousine
myself as from dream, yet dreaming
still. But nothing answered me. Th,
darkness was growing deeper, the cur
rent more rapid, and Louis, with hi,
soft, taper fingers, would never reacl
me now.
Unconscious, half delirious I mus
have been, perhaps, far it seemed to m,
that Jim. on whose name called, was
spirit, and that his presence somewher,
near me was upholding me in this houl
Of need, as drifted further and furthe
away from all earthly hope. How Ion,
know not, how far / know not, j
seemed to me had been on the way al
eternity, and-had or had I not hear,
through that death dream an answer in,
cry? Did or did 1 not see mstily a
through veil, the spars and shrouds Q
that silent vessel that had afar off beel
watching my struggles with death ?
And. great God, aOds it Jim's faee-dea
old Jim's face-bending overme, an,
| WAS this i,asvap 9 80