Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1878-05-04

as pretty cahiH in rs you'd wish 70 see; and
so, my lass. though. fl X sou if so be as
now we've been counting four wears, you
wouldn't come to me and b" my wife,
No., said, no and Shook M he I'd. Il
belong to father, and could never lie ave him
never"
But you'll have to some day, Prudence -
ne said, looking dreadfully down-he lrted and
miserable.
wants me more and more every dav, and |
must stay"
Prudence" he said sharply, ''you amt
playing with me. are vOU?''
Playing with you
Yes: mean You amt goinr To take IN
with any one else. and go aboard any other
barge-no, no." he g tel. 81 won BE- so mean
as 10 asa you that. Bdt, Pruienee, dear,
some day you NAV have TO leave him, and
when YOU do, will you please recoiect as John
Grove loves you better than aught else in the
wide wOrlI, aud is waiting for you TO GOMEZ"
Yes, john, said simply.
You mean it, Prudence?' he cried in de-
light, AS he caught my hand.
YES, John: | don't know anybody else,
and there's no one as cares for me-"
Hundreds on the river, he said sharply.
Then | don't care for Them john sail
simply; and if you like me, and ever do
leaye-oh. dPar! what am Saying?"
sat down on a fender and covered nv face
With my coarse. red hands. and began to cry
bnt he took my hands down, and looked long
brown eyes; and then he couldn't speak. but
seemed to choke. AT las. he gaSped out:
Thanky, Prudence, thanky I'm going
away now to wait, for you'll come TO me some
1didn't answer him.
FOr the time may come, my lass when
you'll be all alone in the world; and when it
does come, there's the cabin of thu Betsy Ann,
clean painted up, and waiting for you, just as
her masters awaiting too"
He went quietly over the side and cast OIL
I sal there in the calm afternoon and evening,
sometimes crying, sometimes feeling hopeful,
and with a sense OF joy at my heart such as l
never had felt before.
And so that evening deepened into night,
with the barge quarter of mile astern of
us, and no wind coming only the tide to help
us on our way.
1t must have been about ten o'clock at night
when ! was forward seeing to the light hoisted
up to keep anything from running into us,
when heard ia her come stumbling up from
the cabin, and make as if TO come forward to
"Prue," he cried, "Pruer
Yes, father, coming" l said and then |
uttered a wild shrek, and rushed towards
where the boat hung aStern by her pain er,
hauled her up and climbed in: for no sooner
had answered than | heard a cry and
heavy splash. and l knew father had gone
l was into the boat in a moment and had
the scull over the stern, padding away in the
direction that the cry had come from: but.
though | fanced in those horrible minutes
that l saw hand stretched out of the water,
asking as it were for help. padded and Scul-
led a bout till | was far from our barge. and
then sank down WORKOUT to utter moan o
horror, and sob, "Oh, father. father! what
shall dO?"
is that you, Prudence" said voice.
Yes, John, yes l cried. looking out
through the darkness ought of which a boat
seemed to steal till it was alongside, when
John stretched out his hand and took mine.
Quick l gasped save him, John-fa-
ther-gOne overheard!
When you Shrieked out, Prue?'
Yes. YES | walled: "Oh. save him, save
him.
quarter of an hour ago, and the tides run
ming strong I've been padding about ever
since, trying to ind You, for went up to the
barge and you were gone"
But IA her." | walled, "father-Save him -
MY poor little lass he said tenderly, s. Id
Jump into the water now if you bid me, bu
What can do, you know, Prudence, what can
did not answer for | did know that he
must have been swept far away before them:
and was beginning to feel that was alone
quite alone in the world.
Ii was quite six months after that dreadful
night that one evening John came ashore
from his barge to the cottage, where | was
staying with his mother and had been ever
since he had brought me there, without seeing
as he sailed by. That evening" he came and
locked wis fully at me and said but little, and
at last his time was up and he rose to go.
walked down to his boat with him. and on
the way he told me that he had got leave to
alter the name of his barge, and it was called
the Prudence too; and then, without word
about the past, he was saying goodbye, when
put my hands i'm his and said quietly
John, dear, haven't forgot my promise
And you are alone now, Prudence, my
lass he cried eagerly.
No, John, no. said softly, as the tears
ran down my cheeks Il never shall be while
you live"
Never my lass, never he cried. And
you'll be my little wife,
Yes, John, yes; promised you"
when / come back from this vOyage?'
Yes. John. when yOn will, said, aud with
one long hand pressure We parted, and went
back to wait for another month, and then
was his happy little wife.
And there seemed no change, for was once
more on the river or out at sea, leaning upon
the tiller and gazing straight before me, with
the gulls wailing as they wheeled and dipped
and SKINNED or settled upon the water; while
the soft wind gently stirred the print hood
that was lightly tied over my wind -ruffied hair.
Only bargeman'S young wife living on the
tide, but very happy; for John often points to
the great ships that pass us, with their cap
tains in their gold laced caps, and as he does
SO he whispers
Not with the best among them, Prue, not
with the best; wouldn't even change places
with king"
And if he is as happy as 1, dear John is
right.