Centre Democrat. [volume] (Bellefonte, Pa.) 1848-1989, 1882-03-23

feet.
"What is the matter" he exclaimed
in real earnest.
81 don't know" was his reply.
"What frst2"
ITO so to the lighthouse"
But he was mistaken. The first thing
he had to do was to dispose Of Lucy.
He could not take her; he could not
leave her.
eff you were only horse" he hur-
riedly cried, 81 could put you in the
stable. II you were COW I'd tie you
to the stake; but what can do with
baby?"
"Lucy can CO." said the child
4" No, she can't" he answered. And
then he looked out again, but his
mother was not yet in sight, and the
red flag which meant "Come at once,
still shook and heckoned to him.
He tied Luoy into her little chair
with an apron, and wrote a noto to his
mother:
"DE,E Morurn father wanted me righ, away
and tho lamp is not lii and it Is after sunset
and hope Lucy won't got into any trubblo.
"Your son HESRY BRUcE."
He put this note in front of the lamp
and hurried off.
A boat was always kept ready, and
Henry sprang into it aud rowed of
with energy. It was dark, however,
when he reached the lighthouse, and
the rain had begun TO fall. He tied
his boat to the little pier and ran to the
tower He opened 4 small, heavy bronze
door and entered large, always dinly.
lighted room, in which was stored coal
and wood, oil for the lamp and fresh
water from the main land.
The stairs were in this room and
Henry ran up. The room above was
the kitchen, over that was the bed
room, and from this ladder led TO the
lantern. Henry called but there was no
answer. He went up into the lantern.
All was dark and silent. He spoke
again and again. but still all was silent.
Then he heard groan and he rushed
down the ladder, got the keepers hand
lamp and ran back. His father lay on
the floor; his eyes we're closed and
blood ran from his temple. It was
plain that be had fallen and hurt him.
self.
Henry began to cry. He did not
know what to do, and the Emergency
Drill" didn't occur to him. Then he
remembered that he ought to stop the
flow of blood, and taking his fathers
handkerchief from his pocket tied up
the wound. Sill his father neither
spoke nor moved. Then he cried again
And then he thought of his mother.
She must by this time be at home, and
without hesitation he rushed of again,
but this time to his boat. 1t took but
a moment to unto it and spring in and
be of.
The rain fell heavily, the waves
dashed on the rocks, and Henry look
ing mp saw the dim outline of the light
house. He stopped rowing. His heart
gave a great jump, and before his eyes
seemed to flash the "charge to keep
ers' hung up in the lighthouse:
"You are TO light the lamps every
evening at sunsetting and keep them
burning bright and clear until sunris.
ing"
His fathers faithf,Ilness, the great
importance of lighting up, rushed into
Henry's mind, and again he involun-
tarily repeated his Emergency Drill"
"What is the mAiterY'
"The lamps are not lighted.I
"What firstS
ITO light them"
He turned his boat and rowed back
few rods. But was II frst7 II could
not be | He must take his mother over.
His father would die for want Of help.
As he paused, trembling, anxious, ir-
resolute, he remembered how often his |
father had said that no wreck should |
ever be his fault, and il was = terrible
night
Henry knew what his father would |
nay, and he at once rowed directly back.
He returned to the house, stumbled up |
the dark stairs, got the lamp again, and |
ran up into the lantern. Is took him
but moment to light the lamps, and |
the glow spread out on tho sea, and
aroused by the glare his father opened
his eyes.