Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1881-10-06
RETNVEES THE TIDES.

A flawless day was the 23d of April III
the wear Of our Lord eighteen hundred
and seventy-nine. The regulation morn
ing breeze had been lured into the pop
DIV fields of Angel Island, and put to
sleep by the narcotic kisses of Circle
And even the Zephyrs-gentle pages to
the ers-while brawlers-had been shut
up in the weather clerks aignal-box I'M
til o'clock III the afternoon. Then the
yachts came out, and the Zephyrs were
released. 1t was not very good weather
for sailing that the Zephyrs made,
though they blew till their rosy cheeks
were like soap bubbles, and the white
sails were filled with scented breath. The
numbering schooners staggered III zig
gag pathways, as if they meant to slice
away the island noses with their dull
prows; and, indeed, the yachts sailed
scarcely any faster, only the little plung-
ers made unchecked headway, running
at Inelr own SWEEP NAll, IL SCShAON. Aho
north harbor was dotted with sails,
Everybody and everybody's wife and
children and friends were out. So there
there was nothing strange about the
mere presence of a young man and a
young woman in small rowboat amid
the scene of lazy commerce and busy
gayety. Certainly it was not strange,
for there were hundred other people
out that afternoon in rowboats, to say
nothing of the professional boatmen, the
men with sculls and the rowing clubs.
If the people ON the yachts which they
met noticed them, they doubtless viewed
them with pity mingled with contempt,
or else looked at them artistically, and
thanked God for poverty and the pictu-
rescue.
As for the couple in the boat, they did
not notice anything but each other-at
least except as the young man found it
necessary to change his direction in row
ing to avoid being run down. After a
while even this became unnecessary.
They were rowing with the ebb tide, and
after they had passed the newly-fnished
bit of sea-wall east of the old Meiggs
wharf, the channel was comparatively
clear. It-was then about half past three.
''Let US foat," said the young man;
''pretty soon the tide will turn; then we
will turn"
every well, Tom," said the young
woman.
Really, she was as yet a girl. She
could not have been more than nineteen.
Her figure was slight, but indicative of
rare gracefulness. Her face was not
pretty-that is, most would not think it
pretty. Both mouth and nose were large.
Her eyes were blue and held al odd look
half earnest, half careless-dificult to
define, yet impossible to disregard. 1t
was a striking face, almost fascinating,
withal a good face-a face i'll which
heart showed first and intellect after
ward.
The man was, exteriorly, common
place. You might take description at
random from your scrap book of conven-
tional current fiction, and it would be
likely to do him more than justice. But
what of that. She was "Laura" and he
was 'Tomp
They had been talking gayly ever
since they left the landing at the foot of
Washington street. When Tom spoke
they had apparently reached some COM
mon and very satisfactory conclusion,
for she looked very happy, and she said
tenderly-for she had a sweet, low voice,
tunable as perfect bell or wave sob:
"You will ask her tomorrow, Tom?"
eyes, Laura, or tonight, if yon
like"
"She will look at you wild-eyed and
perhaps scold you bit"
"Oh, 1 am not afraid. How could L
be with such prize to gain ?"
They had passed the point, the swim
ming beach, the Preside; they were
nearing the fort at the gate. A sudden
swirl in the current twisted the bow of
the boat sharply around. Tom had been
leaning forward, the better to talk to
Laura, the more easily to hold her hand,
perhaps. AS the boat shifted it's di-
rection. he instinctively reached for the
oars. His hands touched the empty row.
locks. The oars were gone. He looked
around, but they were nowhere to be
seen, A cry of horror rose to his lips.
Luckily he stilled it there. He looked
quickly, furtively at his companion. She
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