Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1881-09-07
Presently the old woman said, .sGirl,


reach down the washtub from the shelf. .
"She's surely not going to set me on
to wash!' thought Phoebe. for now she
was expecting to be ordered to get to
her spinningrock, and she meant to sit
somewhere near the window. "1'm
tired, grandmother" she said; "don't
set me on to any more hard work now. u
cts not that" replied the grand
mother; it's not for any washing. Set
the tub here afore me on the floor, and
fill it edge full with clean water fra the
well, and din not thou stop to look about
thee while thou's getting it. Them
boats can very well sail away without
having thou for to watch them"
But while filing the pail at the door,
Phoebe saw the villagers crowding to the
harbor; and while filing her pail for the
third time, she saw Davie, her own cruel
lover, standing on the quay giving his
orders, taking in loaves and other pro-
visions for the voyage, and looking far
too busy to have any thought of her.
She saw the rich brown sails rise heavily,
Tapping to and fro until they were fairly
set;
| This quite overcame the poor girl. and
she almost dropped as she carried in the
water and emptied it into the washing
tub. At this her great suffering gave
her strength to say to her grandmother:
"H Have some human natur' in we. Let
me just TAX one last look at him when
he is going away SO far and SO long.
Dear knows when he'll come back aga1n!'
"Dear knows, indeed!' muttered the
old woman, as she bent down over the
large oval washing-tub, which was stand
ing on the ground in front of her, filled
nearly to the brim with water. Then
she looked up and saw that Phoebe was
profting by her silence, and approached
the window, where she was doing her
very utmost to get zone good look more"
" Bolt the door again, GIRL" said the
grandmother, "and keep all the neigh
| bors out; l want none of them in here
now; and then when thou's done that
thou canst sit down, and if thou wants
any last looks, why L advise thee just to
take them whilst thou can But leave
me alone, l beg of thee, for want sore
to be quiet"
This suited Phoebe's wishes perfectly
with all her poor tired heart she too
was longing to be quiet. She dropped
|
grandmother, and forgot everything, ex-
cept that Davie Trevethoe was now in
his boat in the harbor, and at the very
point of sailing away from her. The
harbor was full of water that flag flying
on the top of the lighthouse, the bar
must therefore be covered. Every
child, every useless struggling child in
the place had found it's way to the pier
every woman in the town was stand
ing giving her baby its death of cold
while waiting there to see the boats take
their departure; and Phoebe, the one
who more than all others longed to be
there, had to bide within stone walls
She never thought of her grandmother
or of her own fear Of her-never once.
At three the tide was high, little
breeze was blowing, and she knew the
time had come for Davies boat to go.
Presently she saw it's pretty sea bitten
sails catch the wind and slowly fill, and
then it sped on its way All, how wide
that sea was-how painless and how
terrible How much might happen be-
fore she touched hand of his again She
bent her head lower and lower, and
watched the sail dipping and the boat
growing smaller as it glided over the
smooth gray sea into world hidden by
white mist. Thus she sat watching all
that long and lonely afternoon. Not
once did she turn; and at length. after
weeping quietly to herself for an hour or
so, her forehead dropped down upon the
window sill, where stood her once loved
and tenderly cherished geraniums and
roses, and the weary girl slept.
Meanwhile the old woman was still
sitting by the large tub which her grand
daughter had just filed for her. She
had more than once glanced at Phoebe,
and had seen how entirely absorbed she
was with what was going on outside, and
then she had set herself with all her
soul and might and strength to &C.
cOmplsh the purpose on which her
mind was bent. 'sThat man-that
deevil, David Trevethoe, should never
reach his home %
Many time she bad often heard from
her own old grandmother, and from
another very aged inhabitant of st.
Adams Of the power which lies in strong
will; how any one who knows the old
rhymes-runes was what they called
them-and had strength to 60 on repeat
| ing IuoSo uOur aIC0r nOuT, JnOuSn neaQ
and heart might fail with fear and
fatigue, would in the end most certainly
prevail. Her grandmother had been a
"wise woman"-not sailor in the place
had dared to cross her will. She knew
what words to say and what arts to use
to summon storm and tempest; and those
who offended her knew that, though
they might leave port with fair winds
blowing and bright sun shining over
head, she could, if she chose, pray down
gale that would wreck them. Elsie
Macdougal, Phoebe's grandmother, well
knew the rhymes her grandmother was
said to have used, and now, in her urgent
need, she had resolved to employ them.
She was sitting on low wooden chair,
her elbows were resting upon her knees,
her head was resting ON her hands, She
settled herself firmly in her place, and
fixed her now baleful blue-gray eyes
resolutely on the water which Phoebe
had just carried in for her. And thus
| she SAT unite ci1ant on1 cti1l. b71t HI %