Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1880-11-03
A NIGHTS CAROUSAL.

can Imagine nothing in the world
pleasanter than this" Max Carston said
TO his father. They had been rowing
down a pretty, picturesque little river,
but had drawn in their oars and were
drifting with the current. ''No, moth
ing more delightful, more enchanting.
than this, the boy dreamily repeated.
''Do you mean the glories of the sun
set?' his father answered, smiling, as he
pointed to the west, where the clouds
had fashioned city with golden walls,
and towers, and crimson banners floating
from them.
''Not exactly. It's the pleasant drift
ing down stream / meant. It's so rest
full, and somehow, you don't seem to care
ing your arms, and letting the tide take
you Just where it will. I feel as though
[ would like to drift through life.'
Hush, you must not say thatr' his
father cried, In such strange, stern tone
that Max raised himself from his recin-
ing position, and gazed at him with as
constituent. Because It is pleasant, y
continued his father, g drifting is often
aost dangerous. Do you see that white
line ahead2' ....
Yes, S1r: what Is 1t :? t-
SO 1t is sand-bar which extends nearly
from shore to shore. There is narrow
channel between the bars, but it takes
adroit handling of boat, even so small
as this, to get safely through it. Now,
If we went drifting on beyond yonder
point of land, ID a few minutes we would
find ourselves stuck fast on the bar. %
But it does not seem as if there was
bit of danger on sand-bar," and Max
laughed, but wondered at his fathers
grave looks and tone. "But then, YOU
know the place and we're not likely to
drift on it, - T'#
:'Know the placer repeated Mr.. Cars
ton. -SsOf course [ know it, when [ was
born on the banks of this river. That is
the reason L preferred taking boat al
c. and rowing down myself to the
old homestead, instead of riding there.
L wanted to see the old familiar places
and show them to YOU"
& To think that I have never been
here before, father, nor seen grandpa,
and I'm seventeen years Old
My father was getting very infirn7
when saw him three years ago, Max,
but he Is anxious to see you. He under
stands how difficult it is to bring the
family from California out here on 9
visit. Mine have always been of the
bf3efest, for the associations connected
with the place are too painful. You
looked surprised, few minutes ago,
when / interrupted you so sharply.
Want NATL we pass the bar, and Twill tel
you why that careless remark of yours
about drifting affected me so strangely. >
Nav x1-a%ah01 hic al 81
lips, he roWed the skiff through the in.
ty1caeies OF the narrow. He had never
seen that look on his fathers face before
so full OF pain sternly repressed, as il
he was battling with some invisible foe.
''You know that had brother, a
twin brother. Max he said, when the
bar was safely passed
Yes, Max had heard from his mother
that his father had lost beloved brother
at the age Of nineteen, but he had been
cautious never to speak of his dead uncle.
as it grieyed his father to hear his name.
81 loved him very much, and I can
not think of him even now without the
old grief mastering me-
"Was he like your father ?"
t'No, not ia any respect. He was the
handsomest youth have ever seen. MY
mlnd was SLOW ana plodd1ng. He seemed
to master his studies without effort, and
as by intuition. He was gay, witty,
generous, and incapable of a mean
thought; but at times he was mastered
by strange Incidence, and never APP
peeard to have any decided and definite
aim. He only seemed to seek the en-
ioyment of the passing hour.
81 can close my eyes and see Charley
as he sat beside me twenty-five years ago
on this very stream. We were drifting,
and he lay back in the boat with his
eyes fixed on the clouds overhead, and
repeating, or transposing the lines from
Faust:
To the passing hour say,
SO beautiful thou art, thy fight decay"
:" l wish we could, Harry 1 would
like to drift forever on q great broad sea
where there were no banks to bring up
against