The daily intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Territory [i.e. Wash.]) 1876-1881, 1879-09-13
JOHN WILDE.

It was al Soacomb, dminutive fish
ing hamlet on the southwest coast OF
| England. that met John Wilde, and
il was there, in his lonely but, one
stormy winter night. that lie told me
the story of his life
i was born here he said, nearly
City yevrs ago, and came Of race Of
fishermen who have starved At Seacoml
during three centuries, oil poor as tho
rocks they lived among, and well-nigt
AS ignorant Nv father died while
was little more than boy. but not be-
fore he had taught me the rude art by
which iIe and his forefathers had gained
their scan.y living. and so after his
death / was able 10 support my mother
who. dear heart. doated on me. l was
the one bright star on her dim road OF
| life. There is little more than this TO
be said Of the frs. sixteen years OF my
life grew up wild as the sea birds.
and fearless as they OF the great waters
that rolled aud ro,red continually be-
fore me. To sail beat and catch fish
was all that knew. but this put bread
in my mothers mouth, ard it was
enough.
1t vas ia my seventeenth year when
an event occurred which subsequently
changed the whole course Of my exist
cnce. A heavy gale had been blowing
in shore with constantly Increasing
violence for several days, and at last
! eliminated in terrific storm. During
/ that night # fearful tempest large
East Indiaman. homtward bound, was
dashed upon our coast Young as
WIS. was first in the lifeboat. and with
infinite difficulty we reached the ship
All the passengers and crow. ho wever.
except three men and little girl Of six
or seven years. had left in the boats.
OF course they were all drowned before
they had gone a hundred yards from
the wreck Those remaining we man
aged 70 land. The grown survivors
knew nothing Of the child. except tia:
she was on board with her mother. IL
stately. pleasant lady, and an East
Indian nurse. They said that she won'd
doubtless be fetched away before long.
and in the meantime she was placed
( uUGcI JuN tu''Hci ~ Sh'c'
AZ dawn was on the beach a1a;n.
a,,i though no. annther life wss saved i,
wc rescued much property. a''. ls my
Share # salva-c money. | ~, n,uaily
g,s wha, f,r Us was quite little for
tune. THIS sum. however. we laid by
for rainy day, aud il did rot change
our hard manner Of lie In the letst.
Meantime. no one came for the chill
The months rolled on ana were gath
cred into years, and still she remained
with ns. "Waif. we called her, her
own name sounding 81 strange and un-
homelike in our oars Her image God
knows. is engraven i'll my heart. The
first night saw her. her fair. pale face
with its clustering olden hair enttrcd
into nv dreams. and since then has
rarely been absent from them. But
how shall describe her, Why should
attempt il? l can never do her beauty
Justice. / only know that. III my eyes.
accustomed only to the brown. coarse
features of our fisher children, she did
not seem TO be mortal. She was the
sunshine ot our somewhat gloomy
household Not tha. she was merry
on the contrary she was sad aud quiet
- but her sweet. gentle disposition was
something foreign to Seacomb, and We
cherished her AS an exotic flower.
1T is needless to say that l grew to
love her with all the strength Of my
heart. Aud she knew it. and in her
gentle way returned my love; but l
| think hers was more the affection of a
sister for "A brother than the stronger
passion woald have given my lie to
see. NV mother looked upon our union
as a settled thing. and its accomplish
ment WAS the ain and end OF her htc
But there was something stood betwesn
us. OF which only was aware was
constantly oppressed with sense Of
inferiority when in the presence Of .he
Waif. have said that her very fea-
tures were OF that refined and delicate
type which can cnly ba produced by
many generations Of gentle birth; but
more than this there was al indetinable
cir about her which stamped her as my
superior. No matter how gentle. how
loving she was to me. always felt that
she somehow lowered herself hen she
spoke to me. struggled hard to rid
myself of this feeling. but could not.
She was ever the delicate lily. the
coarse seaweed; she the lady. no matter
how homely her garb,-I the rustic
boor. Worship her-aye. love hcr-l
might. but mate with her-never!
With this trouble OH my mind. grew
pale and haggard. greatly to the alarm
of my mother; to whom ut last l con-
iided the secret Of my distress. She
affected TO laugh at what she called my
folly. but l could see that she was
deeply concerned. A few days later
she called me to her. and said: john,
/ have been thinking over what you
said to me the other day. and have
found remedy. You complain Of De-
ing beneath Waif. and are troubled be-
cause you know nothing. You shall DO
her equal if learning can make you so.
You know that not penny OF the sal
wage money has baen spent. l kept it
eli for you and WAif. You shall 20
to the great city. John, and learn. and
be her equal. have spoken to the
clergyman over a. penncliife about it,,
and have shown him the money. aud he
says that. though it is not much. yet
you are so used to hard life that II
will be enough. and he has promised to
arrange everything for you
IL did not know how TO reply. Bat
will not trouble you with details; suf
flee i. to say, l went, though the part
s.. f.~~ NV,,f ,,3 r,ofh1r WAS n terri