San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1878-05-11

used to have q stone bottle filled when
ever he went ashore, and then sit with
it in the cabin all alone till called him
TO come and help with the sail.
Not that wanted much help, for ours
was only small barge, and once start
cd, with fair wind, l could manage
her well enough; while when we had to
tack backwards and forwards across the
river mouth, could always lock the til
er by the rope that hung on to the be-
laying pin, and give it hitch on this
side or that side, till had taken pull
at the sheet and brought the barge round
on the other tack.
l must have passed half my life in
those days leaning back against that
tiller, with its end carved to look like a
green acorn, and the name of the old
barge, Prudence, cut deep in the side.
There I'd stand looking out ahead as we
glided over the smooth sea, passing a
buoy here and light there, giving 9TH
er barges and smacks a wide berth, and
listening to the strange squealing noise
of the gulls as they wheeled and hover
ed and swep: by me, so closely some
times that I could almost have touched
them with my hand.
Our barge was well known all about
the mouth of the river aud far up be-
yond the bridge; and, somehow, l
don't know how it was, the men on the
different boats we passed had always
kind hail or wave of the hand for us,
as we glided by, if we were too far off
for the friendly shout to reach us.
Sometimes I'd run the barge pretty
close TO the great ships. and steamers,
inward or outward bound, so as to look
at the ladies l saw on board; not that l
cared to do so very often, because it
seemed to make me sad, for the faces l
looked ON seemed to be so different to
mine that felt as if was another kind
of being, and it used TO set me wonder
ing and make me think; and at such
times I've leaned against the tiiler and
dreamed and dreamed in a waking fash
ion of how l would like to read and
write and work, as | had seen ladies sit
ting and reading and working, on the
decks of the big ships, under the avn
ing; and then l had to set my dreams
aside and have pull at the sheet or
take reef in the sail, because the wind
freshened and my dreams all passed
away.
Idon't think poor father meant it I'M
Kindly, but he seemed to grow more
ana more broken and helpless every
day; and this frightened me, and made
me work to keep the barge clean and
ship-shape, lest the owners should come
on board and see things slovenly, and
find fault with father and dismiss him,
and that l knew would break his heart.
So worked on, and in a dull heavy
way father used to thank me; and the
time glided on, till one day, as we were
lying off Southend, with the sea CLASSY
and not wind enough to fill the sails,
felt my cheeks begin to burn as l leaned
back against the tiller, and would not
turn my head, because 1 could hear q
boat being sculled along towards us,
and l knew it was coming from the great
leeboard barge lying astern.
"He's coming to see father" said
to myself at last in a choking voice; and
as hail came was obliged to turn,
and there stood up in the little boat he
was sculling with an oar over the stern
John Grove, in his dark trousers, blue
jersey and scarlet cap; and as saw
his sunburnt face and brown arms and
hands felt my heart beating fast, and
knew he was not coming to see father,
but to see me.
We had hardly ever spoken, but had
known John Grove for years now, and
we had nodded and waved hands to one
another often and often as we passed up
and down the river.
"Heave us rope, my lass" he said
as he came close in; and did it dream
ily, and as soon as | had done so l be-
gan to pull it back, but it was too late;
he had hitched it round the thwart of his
boat, and was up and over the side be-
fore l could stir; and then he stood .
looking down upon me, while | felt
sometimes hot and sometimes cold, and
as if could not speak.
"Do you want to see father!" l said
at last.
"No, my lass" he said quietly, 81