Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1879-01-23

III all times anu SenJlcHeSS anu lcllIciilcuI
in his speech and manners, which nigh.
have come from that constant womanly
influence. Many feared that his character
might lack the manly virtues OF courage
and decision; and even his schoclmates,
when the love Of teasing was very strong.
would call him "mother's baby" and
"Franky," laying an insulting emphasis
upon the last syllable, so that he had beg !
ged his mother to call him Frank, which
she did, unless in moment of tenderness
the old baby name slipped from her tongue.
If the veteran seamen of the place
could have known the situation of this
iorlorn and shvering trio, what hope of
rescue would they have found in the dis
abled Captain, the inefficient Smith, or the
boy who, according to their prophecy,
- would never be good for much brought
up so soft by women?"
The clock in the steeple of the village
church struck; the strokes were faint, but
they could count the strokes.
"Uncle Charlie" said Frank, "is that
twelve o'clock"
Yes"
Don't the tide turn about this timer
asked Josiah.
"lt has turned" replied the Captain;
ait is ebbing now"
Then" cried Frank, "we'll drift out to
sea; everybody will be home to dinner
now; no one will be likely to come to the
shore for an hour, and perhaps no one will
see us to-daym
Frank" +" said his uncle, earnestly keep
up your courage-dont give up. My
miserable head is beginning to whirl, and
may drop eff soon; but hold on-thnk
of your mother, Frank, and keep afloat us
long as you have your Senses"
But even while he spoke, he felt how
slender was the chance that the poor
mother would ever see her living darling
again.
The mention of his mother called up
before the boy her gentle face as he saw it
last, smiling at his boast of swimming
from the Neck " to the shore. He had
never heard that any one ever performed
that feat; but would it be possible to swim
from the boat to the shore, through the icy
water and the wide belt of entanging eel
grass 1t did not seem so far TO the Meek
and there was no dreaded eel grass on that
side to catch his feet and pull him down ;
but the nearest point was fully two miles
from the lighthouse, the only inhabited
house there. He might reach it alone, but
could not be so mean rs to leave his uncle
without an effort to save him, and 'Siah
too?
Uncle" said Frank, al am going TO
swim ashore here we are right opposite
Capt. Wentworth's; | can swim ashore,
get his dory, and come after you and 'Sah.
| think | can do it; at any rate, | can
hold on long in this wind, and Shall soon
be too numb to SWIM"
The Captain was sicnt-what could be
say? To 90 or to stay seemed equally dam
gerous; but Frank loosing the hold of one
hand, was already working his stiffencd
fingers, and trying to throw of his boots
in readiness for II start.
"Gom ssaid his uncle; and God help
you!'
And God did help him us he threw
himself into the angry waters, and struck
out for the shore. He felt resolute, and
confident, wasted no strength in uncertain
hurried movements, but with deliberate
and steady strokes went on. The tide be.
f ing almost at the food. he passed through
f the entangling eel-grass with less trouble
than he had feared; on, on, stroke after
stroke, the shore seeming 10 grow NJ
f nearer, until ut last, with one final, dcs
perate effort, he reached the shallow wa
, ter; his feet touched bottom, he staggere,
| forward, and fell upon the sand.
Hardly IL minute would he take for res
s the others must be saved. He sprans
, up. waved his hands toward the distan
\ boat to show the men that he was safe, anC
/ looked about no boat in sight; he ran NJ
t the sands to the boat house and pushed nj
{ the door-iL was locked!
Here was Il difficulty that he had no
7 foreseen; it would take at least twent,
: minutes to run up to the house for the Ike,
4 and return; twenty minutes lost, whei
Y every one was precious! He seized some
, thing heavy which lay at hand, and show
y cred frantic blows upon the cruel door; II
last it yielded and there WAS the boat, will
/. oars all in readiness; lie had dreaded tha
Il the oars might have been taken away
Yes, there was the boat, but it was man,
l. feet from the water, and it would be
hard task for Il man to drag it through th
1 deep sand, while he was but boy, nearly
exhausted already by extraordinary efforts
| but he hardly thought of all that-he nil
5 determined hands upon the boat and /
Y m0vcd.
S Impo.siI le as ii would have seemed tc
1 him at any other time, the boat wa
launched; then he took mp the oars-hi
t work was almost done, but he must no
e rest vet, and, with straining muscles, h
h retraced his way over the rough water
IA His uncle almost fell into the boat, will
S the words:
: Frank, you have saved my life.
= could not have hold en- longer"
+ But where is 'Siah?' asked Frank.
II Poor fellow! I'm afraid he's gone. II,
1t declared that if you could swim ashore, h
c could. | begged him TO wait until yO
o could come to take Us off, but | could no
Vt keep him, | think he went down Just ol
l, the bar yondcr."
It Frank shed bitter tears; il was hard t
give up II life he had done so much t
J save.
h They took up the oars and pulled slow
d ly to the shore Frank went directly home
o sending what men he met ut once to tn
,e shore; while the Captain walked TO tn
e nearest house, borrowed dry clothes. an
d returned to the shore to direct the effort
+ made to recover their unfortunate compar
ion. Accordingly, the neighbors wcr
J. startled from their afternoon quiet by til
~
Il ing to him, running ut full speed tDwnr
home. There, of course, he WAS receive
st with great surprise. and his story hear
II with exclamation Of deep sympathy an
l. thanksgiving, while grandmother an
y mother rubbed him. brought dry clotht
Of and hot drinks. and finally put him to be
le among soft blankets, where, tired out, h
ID soon fell asleep. His mother watche
le him for short time rs he lay warm an
rs rosy, his yellow hair curled by tie damp
g. ness into hundreds of little ringlets upO
" his dear head, safe upon the pillow Il
ee home, instead of on. tine seaweed under tn
e, waves; then, reluctant to leave him, sh
z, went forth upon her sad errand of symp'
le thy to poor Mrs. Smith; and the tw
ly widows, each with baby upon her la
IN wept together. In day or two, Fran
as was quite well. OF course lie was II hel
at among his playmates, and, indeed, in a