Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1882-08-03
'MOTHER CAREY'S CUSHION. "

"Now, Octavis," said Mrs. GLAND
do be little careful to-day. Don't
for PHYS sake, lei your wild spirits
run away with your
Ootavis GLAND, in her pink muslin
dress, tied here and there with jaunty
little bows of ribbon, and straw gyp
" hat garlsnded with pink poppies,
turned around, the very incarnation oi
radiant glee.
Mamma" said she, "why should
you grudge me my little holiday
Don't I work behind Miss Fanshawe'a
counter all the year like any African
slaveG Don't I lose my very identity
In shirs and pufings, and toll my fin
gers off in founces and tuoks Do let
me play I am = child again Just this
once |"
So this beautiful young Euphrosyne
danced away, leaving only the sweet
echo OF her laughter in the gloomy
apartment, and Mrs. GLAND sighed.
"She is so thoughtless," said the
mother. "And Duncan Bay and Harry
Bolton are both going on this sailing
party-and somehow feel as if to-day
were going to be the turning point Of
her Life. I wish she could bring her
self to like Duncan-he's q steady,
noble-souled lad, as his father was be.
fore him, but there isn't much outside
show about him. And Bottoms hand
some, dashing young fellow, just the
sort to attract any girl. But somehow
I can't quite believe in him. Ootavia
says I haven't any knowledge of the
world. Well perhaps she is right.
But I think we quiet, stay. at-home
bodies are sometimes gifted with sort
Of instinct in these matters"
The day was all sparkle aud sunshine
the excursion steamer, filttering with
gay flags and sound of music, glided
naiestically along; the sea air breathed
hew strength into weary lungs and
louched fevered brows with achemic
power; and all these over tired, over
worked sewing girls forgot for brief
while chat life was othing more than o
rea mill to tn m.
They laughed, they dancsd, they
sang; they flung flowers into the water
that foated aroand the wheel house,
Ghey counted the glimmering sails that
ielned up against the horizon; and
finally WI en- the boat landed at White
Crags they all scattered in various di-
rections over the silver shingled beach
in merry pursuit OF shells, seawesd and
pebbles, as so may newly liberated
school children might have done.
And Octavia GLAND, the prettiest girl
In all the throng, reiyned as q sort oi
princess among them.
Smother Carey's Cushion ?" said she
merrily, echoing the words of an ancient
salt who was msnding his nets in q
sunny spot with an old pipe in hii
mouth, and picturesque long b arc
blowing about in the wind. els that
what they call yonder rock p
"That 'ere's what they halls her by
lsdy-miss," said the old sailor, his din
eyes reeting wi h evident appreciation
on Octavia's fresh young lilies ant
roses. "And we'll it's knowed here.
abouts."
"But why do they call 1t so.p" Del
sisi the girl.
"Because OF the cushion, my lady
miss" answered the fisherman, layin
his pipe down on thu sand out O
respect 10 this cha m ng young pres
ence. "Aud the Mother Carey
chickens as circle round the point {
. dark day when there's a storl
comm up It's round rock. near I
the top-d'ye seer pointing his knott
fore6nger-"with grass aud moss,
CROWN on 1t, IN o CIRCLE, like cushion
And back. all of the material rocl
There's them, my lad y-miss," he adde
"as has climbed to the very top ar
sat on the cushion. and my swee
heart--as has been dead these thir
years--did oncs. But We didn't ca
to stay there long. I tell ye. For Il
wind howled and the seagulls shrieke
and the tide roared like hungry sha
around us, and 1t was as much as ev
we could do to get down again wi
whole bones"
"Why," said Bolton, sit doesn't 10
Buch > height"
Mebbe not-mebbs not r. said
old man. - quarter Of . mile max