The Red Cloud chief., 1880-02-12
on THE TIDE ROCk.

They call me "Dot," My real name
is Dorothea, but that being such a mouth
full, | am generally known As "Dot." l
am the youngest of three, and having
had my own way from my cradle, it was
not refused me last November when my
sister and her husband offered To take
me abroad with them for the winter
months.
They had not long come from India,
and, being sensible people, and detcSt-
ing our changeable climate, and like
wise being in mortal terror of their lives,
had decided on bidding adieu 10 the
English coast until such time rs the sun
should condeScend TO shine there once
more.
As far as | am concerned | am always
ready for II change and excitement of
any description; So when dear old
Jack" my brother-in-law, said,
"Come, Dot, pack up your traps and
Join u.s." | was nothing 10th, and the last
week in November found us comfort
ably installed in the Hotel Angleterre,
at Biarritz, with the glorious sun pour
ing in at our windows, and the bluest
of blue seas dashing about on the rocks
below.
have heard some people say there
is nothing To see at BiarritZ. All, blind
and miserable creatures! Where are
your senses-where your eyesP Did
YOU ever look elsewhere upon such a
sea-such rocks? Have you stood 10y
the Rocher de Ia Verge and heard the
magnificent boom of the waves rs they
came plunging into that cavern near,
and, being repulsed, dash Indignantly
fifty feet above ii.
But | am getting romantic, and that
is not my style-n"t mine, certainly
little Dots" No, indeed, the idea
makes me die with laughing.
Ny sister Geraldine Tor Jerry" as
/ persist in calling her, which makes
her very mad) goes in for being delicate,
so Jack and | used TO take long walks
and rides together; he is a dear, good
old fellow, and We are tremendous
friends; but, somehow, notwithstand-
ing, after | had been a couple of weeks
or so at Biarritz | began TO feel the time
hang a little heavily on my hands.
The fact was q acknowledge my
~weakneSs), there were no men worth
speaking to now, but a collection of the
lame, halt and blind, whom l believe
usually frequent these places, and make
life a burden to one by perpetually re-
counting their several ills, ailments, etc.
Preserve me from them all!
Well, as / said before, it was getting
n little slow for poor me, n L was be-
trimming to wish | had not left dear old
much-abused England, when l had an
adventure. Being hard put to it for
amusement, l would sometimes take a
book and saunter down upon the rocks,
there remaining for hours at a time.
am a desperate tom-boy, and can
climb and scramble splendidly, much to
the noyan of Geraldine, who de-
clares that / get as brown as a berry,
and nv hands are not fit to be seen.
However that may be true, scramble i
do. and one suspicious day (never to be
~forgotten) | got a good way o u among
some dear old craggy bits of rock, and,
finding a snug little corner in which 1
lust fitted, | settled myself down easily
and began TO read. The book l had
chosen was a real sensation novel, and
read on engrossed, utterly regardless
of time and tide. Suddenly, however,
the n of hunger seized me 1 may
add my appetite never fails me), and,
, glaucinp at my miniature watch, l dis
Covered it was long past luncheon time.
Alas, Miss Broughton. what have you
TO answer for?
seized my shawl and proceeded to
make my way back with expedition,
!, when loi to my intense dismay l per-
ceiyed that the tide had risen and en-
tirely divided the rock upon which
WAS standing from the shore. Still
<ba borrid wayeS wara craopipo
noarer and nearer, and not a soul could
T see to help me in my distress. Imag-
inc NV feelings-me, poor little misera-
-tle dot" alone in the middle of the
ocean,.
shouted, but the noise of the waves
drowned my feeble cries, like they must
soon drown me. o, would any one be
CORY? o, why had l ever come to this
hateful Biarritz, to be drowned all