Weekly Trinity journal., 1879-05-31
FEATHERsTONE'S HERO.

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year, think though l may be mistsk-
en- have so much to remember since
began to grow old. There are all the
boys who were at Featherstone in my
day, the looks of the blessed old school
itself, with the manywindowed build
ings, the weather stained belfry, where
the guls made nests, the neat, trim play
grounds, and the whole broad ocean surg
ing along Cumberland Beach, only a
milo away-all this l mus. never for
get. For what would be the good fortune
of being boy if one could not have his
school~fellows to remember the home
they had in common, and the glorious
old days when he and they woke up on
the bright, sunshiny mornings, without a
thing to do in the world beside coming a
lesson or two? Then there is the mas
ter-though it took us sometime to find
out just what a noble, generous man he
was and the masters kind, motherly
wife, who cared for us boys when we
were sick, and who brought Billy Will
son through desperate struggle with
the typhoid fever, when everybody said
he would die. Who of us will ever for
get the quiet, sleepy afternoons we passed
in that large, still school-room, studying
our illustrated histories and biographies
listening to the old clock beating away,
as if it were the pulse of the place and
looking out wistfully through the deep
windows at the sails heaving in sight
now and then on the glimmerng ocean ?
Or, will any of us forget the days when
it stormed, and the sea threw its spray
away up to our windows, and at night
rumbled over the beach like guns, keep
ing us awake 70; hours ? And, finally,
whenever we look at the sea, are there
any of us who will not recall Little Tins? ?
What ar odd-looking little chap he
was, to be sure, when he first came to
the school The boys laughed at his
name-Littlefeld Tins and called him
"Granther" because he appeared so old
fashioned. Then somebody began to
nickname him Little Tins, and we all
took it up. He was not so very small in
stature, however only slim and poor.
His face was freckled, his hair red, and
he had large hands, that looked us though
he had always been used to very hard
work. One of the boys said that the mas
ter had brought him from poor farm
but we never found out whether that was
really the truth. All we knew about him
was that he had no parents and was kept
at the school to do the chores. When
the biggest boy shook him, one day, be-
cause he refused to fag, he sat down and
cried said he wished he was dead. He
never had any friends, and we might kill
him, if we wanted to; he didn't care, he
said. Some of the boys only laughed at
that and told him he hadn't any pluck -
Aiterward he kept away from US all as
much as he could, and studied his les
sons alone.
But the day came, at last, however,
when we found out what brave heart
Little Tins had and then, of course,
we wondered that it had taken US Sc
long to discover the fact. 1t was some
time in the Spring-a dark, cold, rainy
day, when the sea had been made wild by
the high wind. The most OF US had re-
~, q ;nad In daors a II tho oftarnoon ond
when evening came, we gathered around
the open fire at the end of our long DOR
mitory and took turns telling the sea
stories we had read. Oh you may be>
lieye it was just the jollest comfort in the
world To hear Billy Wilson telling
about his fathers cruise to Bombay,
while you were watching that great heap
of a IRE cracking and darting up bright
flames, and listening to the storm beat
ing the windows and the surf laundering
against the shore, was worth great deal,
can tell you. And what noise the
wind aud the waves did make that night
1t was as much as any one ceuld do to
catch wink of sleep; and / recollect
how l lay awake ever SO long, fancying
that | coad hear voices outdoor crying
and calling to us. l suppose l must have
been dreaming an hour or two, though,
before l really did hear anything; be-
cause | sprang up startled and confused
when that loud boom and rumble broke
above the noise of the storm.
" What was that, Ludgate ?' Whisper
ed little Tom Dufield, frightened and
then in a moment everybody in the dor
mitory was sitting up in bed, wanting to
know what had happened. George Jen-
nings crept out to the end window and
pulled up the curtain, just as another
crash made us jump, and we caught
glimpse of flash in the distance, burst,
ing the darkness apart.
It's ship on the reef, fellows !"
call out three or four at once.
There was general scramble for our
clothes, and then we crowded about the
window and waited for another FASH
But before it came the master opened the
door, lantern in hand.
"You hear those guns. boys? There's
a ship on the reef, and they are firing for
help. Put on your great coats and come
right down to the cliff. We must do
everything in our power to aid them"
He meant, of course, the larger boys
Bob Nichols, John Sawyer and Ed. Will
liams but the otherg of us went with
them. Beforeany body could have count
ed hundred, we were all running down
the road to the cliff, as fast as we could
go. 1t was about three O'Clock in the
and "as dark as pocket. -
The wind had lulled considerably, and
the rain had ceased altogether vet there