Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1879-06-28
NO. 1876.
Gales ano sEettbes.
TWO SHIPS on THE SEA.
Continued from yestcrday.)

iHt HfNi uiN L Tiilk ultU, anu on II pleas
ant summer evening they laid him on the
hillside among the grass and the flowers.
and the birds sang just as sweetly. the bees
hummed Just aS merrily. the brook babbled
just a. noisily, as though human soul had
not passed up to its Maker, Sin-weary and
carth-laden, with its grand opportunities
| thrust behind it, stained with rust and
with black mould
Two ships 90 ont from distant shores
and meet in a friendly port. Words of
cheer are exchanged. Kindness given and
taken. then anchors are weighed, sails are
set and then they part. They may cross
each others track in mid-ocean MANY
times afterward, but it is in the night and
| the darkness, and there is nothing in the
bosom of the sea when the morning breaks
to tell the mariner that a friendly bark has
passed within his hail, and the knowledge
never comes till in long years after both
drift again into the same port and lie side
by side.
SO it is with us all. Our paths cross
and recross, and the sighs we utter and
the tears we shed would be crowded back
to their fountains. could we only be sure
that after the many unknown, unacknowl-
edge crossings and recrossings. we should
hold undisturbed communion with our
friends even in the later days. But the
sighs and the tears take from the freshness
of life and leave traces on brow and
cheek, the eyes grow wistlul with longing
and the smiles come harder than in the
old time. They who trust are happier
than they who doubt. but even the hearts
of the trnstin grow tired with pain.
Waring waited several weeks for the re-
ply which Margaret had sent him imme-
diately upon the receipt of his letter. Its
non-arrival was a disappointment to him.
for how little ever we may care for the
thing for which we ask none of us like to
be ignored. The blow to his vanity was
perhaps the strongest effect of her silence,
but he did not once attempt to deny that
the girl had really interested him. 1t was
not her personal beauty for she had none.
II could not have been her superior men
tai attractions, for in his journeyngs he
had met hundreds of women who far sur
passed her in depth of thought and power
of expression. He SAID to himself il was
her originality, the bold honesty with
which she stated her views and the fresh
ness of her style, that were her peculiar
characteristics, but am inclined to think
that he liked her-because he liked her.
When at last her letter reached him, il
found him thousands of miles from where
it should have overtaken him. The sur
prise was an agreeable one, for the date
proved she had been guilty of delay in an
swering. 1t had been so long. however.
since it was written, the tone of the letter
was so Indifferent, that after some indeci-
sion he concluded not to reply. Perhaps
it was better that the acquaintance should
end.
Among the new friends whom Margar-
ct had found was Robert Gray an odd.
abrupt man of the world, with rugged.
yet tender heart, hidden in an out-Of-the-
way place which nobody except children
and Margaret Howard ever touched. He
was tolerated and courted because he was
rich. There was story back somewhere
but he never let the world read it; so the
whispers We're low and uncertain He
was so dependent upon Margaret for real
pleasure, had grown to care for her a.
much as with the old wound he could care
for a woman now-in fact, he needed her
50 much that he was about to tell her his
story and offer her what was left of him.
when, during an evening call, the CONVEX
sation turned upon purely unselfish action.
A remark of Gray's led her to ask him if
he could quote an instance of thoroughly
disinterested kindness, whereupon, among
others credited to the same person.
he told the story of Frank Howard, with
full details, finishing with
$50 You see we are not all as selfish rs
YOU would make lis out
'What was the name of this man, Mr.
Gray?n
Burke Waring''
Il thought so--and the boy he saved
from ruin was my brother"
al 4, 4
Burke Waring, Miss Howard ?"
Il do
''Then You know one of the noblest men
living. Did you know him at the time
Your brother was under his care ?'
In giving him the outline of their ac-
quaintance her hesitation BETRAYED to him
the true state of affairs. He remained but
a little longer, then went directly home.
He passed an hour in earnest thought, and
then sat down and wrote rs follows:
MY dear Waring Give me few ,lavs
of your valuable society-will YOU?
Yours, GRAY
He received no answer to his letter: but
three days after. while sitting at his desk.
the door opened and a familiar voice said
''Well, Gray, how goes it ?'
Gray Sprang from lis scat and they
shook hands IKE men " no knew each other
through and through Then they sat
down and talked as men will talk, and
smoked as though an all-meriful Provi-
dence had created them for that express
purpose, and when business hours were
over went to Gray's rooms. After dinner
the latter informed his friend that he had
a call to make and desired his company.
to which he assented on condition that he
should not be bored 'I promise you
that, said Gay, land il my words do
not prove true, you have only to give the
signal, and we will leave at once.f'
\ little later word was brought Marga-
ret that Mr.. Gray awaited her in the par
lor. She at once went below, greeted him
pleasantly, then As he was about to present
his friend, her eyes rested upon Waring,
and with an expression of frank delight
upon her face, she stepped forward with
hand extended:
This is indeed pleasure. Mr. War,
ing
TO me as well as to YOU. and rs great
a surprise, had no idea that GRAY was