The Middlebury register. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1850-1882, 1882-02-03

artist to an illustrated paper. He was
to travel, to see new countries, and to
send his sketches home. Would he
undertake the journey for q year?
Would he notP He did not hesitate
moment. He had no ties in London
near enough to detain him. The short
space accorded for preparation was
amply sufficient for him. Coz OF
course he would go; and he at once
teleqraphed his answer in the afir1la-
tive. .Hf tf
But no sooner had he dispatched the
irrevocable message than the thought
occurred to him, how was he to finish
his picturep Not the portrait of the
fair unknown-that was nothing-but
the large picture at which he had been
working tor some weeks, intending to
send 1t to the Grosvenor," or per-
chance to the Royal academy. He had
hoped to finish this picture, and its
title, already fixed in. his mind, was
"By Mount, and Stream, and Sea-"
He had. almost finished the first
tableau, taken from an old experience
Of his own-the rescue of q young
child from a crag wherecn she had de-
scended and from which the child was
unable to return. The picture was in
tended to represent the first dawn of
affection in the heart OF the rescuer.
The second was his meeting the girl,
now grown up, at picnic; his declara-
tion of love and acceptance. The third
was to be the scene Of q wreck, where
he carries ashore the dead body of his
betrothed, drowned on her way to q
warmer climate by the wintry sea.
These ideas had presented themselves
very vividly to Blakely, and as he
walked home he half-regretted his i'm
pulsive determination. How was he to
finish his pictures And yet, how
could he give up certain employment?
It would be grasping at the shadow for
the substance, and he reluctantly made
up his mind to adhere to his new en-
gagement. ft.tl t... $50
He sauntered thoughtfully home
ward, and was about to enter the park
gate when he perceived two ladies ap-
prosching from the house. He naturally
stepped aside to permit them to pass
through, and to his great delight and
astonishment perceived that the younger
Of the two was the beautiful girl he had
that morning encountered. He raised
his hat; the elder lady acknowledged
his courtesy by an inclination Of the
head, the younger took no notice of
him at all and he passed on to the
house burning with curiosity to know
who the visitors were.
But in this laudable endeavor he was
foiled. 1t SO happened that a certain
Mrs. Clayton and her daughter had
called at the same time as Mrs. Vivian
and Ellen. The native servant had
mixed the people mp, and when young
Blakely inquired who the visitors were,
the footman answered glibly enough:
Mrs. and Miss Clayton, and"
"Thank you," replied Blskely, not
waiting for the conclusion of the SEN
tence. "Claydon I wonder what her
Christian name is? I'm sure I've met
her before to-day. What fine young
girl she is Twill make point OF
getting introduced at the archery
meeting tomorrow. I'm half in love
j already"
= It 50 happened that the next day and
the day following were wet. On the
third day Blakely was obliged to return
to London. But during these two wet
days he had made great progress with
his academy picture, as he called it.
Wisely utilizing the material at hand,
he had improved upon his sketch OF
the stream in the pAR, and had painted
the young and pretty Miss Claydon as
the heroine Of his romance. The young
artist took pride and delight in dwell
ing upon this portion of his picture.
The girl returned again and again to
his mind; he recalled every feature,
and, as o writer will at last become
quite attached to q character Of his
own creation, 80 Walter Blakely formed
q romantic and altogether unreasonable
affection for young lady he had only
seen twice in his life. He had already
ascertained that Miss Clayton was rich,
and Of "sweet disposition" and, so
far ss Mrs. Rothay could tell, qu to
heart-whole. Love at first sight is un-
usual, but by no means 30 unusual as
some people believe, and Blakely had
worked himself mp to q high pitch OF
devotion for the absent and wealthy
beauty.
He went to town and made his ar
rangements; he worked hard at his pic-
ture and actually finished it. A month
after he left for the United States by
the line Of steamers from Glasgow.
II was o tempestuous day, but the
well-found vessel cared very little for
} the rolling seas that bore down upon
her from the northwest. Still she
pitched sufficiently to render 1t con-
venient for the ladies TO remain below,
and as night wore on, and the Irish
coast was looming on the bow, most OF
the men retired to snatch quiet nights
rest under the shelter of the Derry
headlands.
But alas, for the vanity Of human
foresightl A thick fog came down as
the daylight began to show itself in the
east. The steamer made her way care
fully toward the rugged coast. Sud.
denly grinding noise was heard, and
ere any one could cry "Stop her |" q
tremendous thump told the news that
the fine ship had struck upon sunken
rock, while another and another shock,
succeeded by Q rending OF the timbers,
xwoke the affrighted passengers to all
the horrors OF shipwreck.
The poor emierants forward were the
first on deck, and in semi-clothed
state they ran frantically about, mad
with terror and the sense OF helpless.
ness. The captain and chief officer,
cool as ever, tried, and not with sue.
cess, to calm this seething mass oi
human beings as they rushed to the
side. Holding them in check for mo-
msnt by moral force the captain or
dsred out the boats. The crew worked
brayely, and discipline told The boats
were got out. Meantime the few cabin
passengers had come on deck, and
stood huddled together on the poop.
The men assisted In getting the quarter
boats down. and then. all being ready,