, 1880-07-26
The CEild of the Beach.
BY. wAI. VAN NAMEE, n. d.

B1 J, WI. VAN NAAEE, NJ. Ia
1t was a wild place, where the winds
swept furiously among the stunted
trees that lined the coast. Back a lit
tie distance from the shore stood u
small and ill-built cottage, the home OF
Irene Manning. Here she had been
born, here she had lived without com
panioDs, save her old uncle and her
Invalid mother, until she had reached
the age OF fifteen years. Beautiful she
was not, and yet there was something
in her eyes that charmed and fascinated,
. music IN her voice that attracted, Il
grace in her movements that could not
fail to please all with whom she came
in contact. To be sure, her advanta
ges had been limited, for it was many
miles to the nearest neighbor, and the
little cottage could boast of but a scanty
library; the books, however. that were
on the little hanging shelves were we'll
selected, and had been. read over ana
over again by the young girl whose lot
seemed SO strangely cast.
There was not rock on the coast
but that she was familiar with. She
could manage boat with all the grace
and skill of master hand. She could
Ash aud hunt, and sing the widest
songs maiden ever sang; and, know
ing nothing practically of the life be-
you'd her rock bound and sea girt home,
she was contented and happy.
But as Irene advanced toward the
years of womauhood, Mrs. Manning of
ten looked at her with fearful eyes, and
wis he'd that it might be that her daugh
ter could enjoy those advantages she.
as a woman of culture, could SO we'll
appreciate, but, alasl was powerless to
give. And so day followed day, and
Irene was happy in the careless, un
trammelled life she led, and wished for
nothing more. To be sure, she often
said
"Oh, uncle wish you could find me-
some more books; know all we have
by heart. and do SO long for something
] have lever read!'
But it was a vain wish; for Uncle
Ben, as she had always called the old
man, never left home but twice year,
and then brought with him, on his re-
turn, only such things as we're neces
sary for life and comfort. When he
went on these journeys he always went
alone, and said but little of what he
saw or heard while absent; and if Irene
questioned him, his answers were
invariably both short and unsatis-
factory.
But a change was about to dawn in
the life of Irene Manning-a change
that none of the occupants Of the little
cottage once dreamed of.
One night a fearful storm came up
soon after the sun went down, and the
waves dashed high on the rock bound
coast, the lightning sent its Iivid
CLEANS CT fire across the black and
bending sky, and deep-voiced thunder
shook the very earth. Irene stood by
the window, looking out upon the sea
in its fury, and listening to the deaf
ening roar If the wild and turbulent
waters. At length, when flash longer
and brighter than any that had preced-
ed it llghied up the sea far out, she
turned, and, with look of horror in
her eyes, said,-
sc There is ship but just beyond
the rocks; it will be dashed to pieces,
and every soul on board will be lost. "
"A ship!" echoed the old man, vino
sat in his armchair before the fire.
smoking his short clay pipe; "impos-
siblel it is many years since a ship has
been driven upon this coast"
ga ship!" almost shrieked Mrs.
Manning, as she raised herself upon
her arm, as if to spring from the low
couch ON which she was lying. "No,
NO, Irene! Not ship-you are mis-
taken. child"
81 am not mistaken; and there, l
see it again, and nearer than before.
It is coming directly to the rocks'
she added, as another fash of light
ming lighted up the heavens. "Come,
Uncle Ben, let US light the lanterns
and go out and help the poor creatures
who will soon be at the mercy of the
Waves
The old man made no reply, but
arose and prepared the lanterns, while
Irene flung her arms about her moth
eT's neck, and said,-