The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1883-07-19
"A DAYS EXCURSION.

"A DAYS EACUNSlON.
Now, Octavia," said Mrs. GLAND, edo
be little careful to-day. Don't, for
PHYS sake let your wild spirits run away
with you."
Octavia GLAND, in her pink muslin
dress, tied here and there with jaunty
little bows of ribbon, and straw gyDsy
hat, garlanded with poppies, turned
round, the very incarnation Of radiant
glee.
"Mamma, =" said she, "why should you
grudge me my holiday?
"Don't l work behind Miss Fan
shawe's counter all the year, like any
African slave2 Do let me play | am a
child again just this once"
So this beautiful young Euphrosyne
danced away, leaving only the sweet
echo of her laughter in the gloomy apart
ment, and Mrs. GLAND sighed.
''She is SO thoughtless," said the
mother. "And Duncan Ray and Harry
Bolton are both going on this sailing
party, and somehow L feel as if to-day
were going to be the turning point Of
her life.
81 wish she could bring herself to
like Duncan.
"He's steady, noble-souled boy, as
his father was before him, but there
isn't much outside show about him.
"And Bottoms Il handsome, dashing
young fellow, just the sort to attract
any girl. But somehow j can't quite
believe in him."
The day was all sparkle and sunshine.
The excursion steamer tluttering with
gay flags ard the sound of music, glided
along majcstically.
The sea air breathed new strength
into weary lungs, and touched fevered
brows with mighty power; all these over
worked sewing-girls forgot, for brief
while that life was nothing more than a
They laughed, they danced, they sang,
they counted the glimmering sails that
leaned up against the horizon, and fin
ally, when the boat landed, they all
scattered in various directions over the
silver-shingled beach, in merry pelsuit
Of shells, seaweed, and pebbles, as so
many newly liberated school-children
might have done.
And Octavia GLAND, the prettlest girl
in all this throng, reigned as a sort Of
princess among them.
"Mother Cary's Cushion?" said she,
merrily, echoing the words an ancient
salt, who was mending his nets in q
sunny spot, with an old pipe in his
mouth, and a picturesque long beard
blowing about in the wind.
els that what they call yonder rock2
'"That 'ere's what they halls her by,
lady-miss," said the old sailor, his dim
eyes resting with evident appreciation
OH OctaVia's fresh young lilies and
roses.
"And well it's knowed hereabouts,n -
he said.
"But why do they call it SOP" persis-
ted the girl.
because of the cushion, my lady
MISS" replied the fisherman.
''The Mother Cary's chickens as cir
Gle round the point, of dark day, when
there is a storm COMM up.
OTIS q rGund rock, near the tOp-do
you see?" pointing his knotty finger
with grass and MOSES growin' on it,
in a circle, like cushion. And aback
of all the material rock.
'There's them, my lady-miss," he
added, "as has climbed to the very top,
and sat on the cushion.
81 an my sweetheart-as has been
dead these thirty years-did once.
''But we didn't care to Stay. there
long, L tell ye.
''For the wind howled, and the sea-
gulls shricked, and the tide roarcd like
a hungry shark around us, and it was
as much as ever we could do to get
down again with whole boncs.n
"Why, it doesn't look such a height -
said Bolton.
''Mebbe not-mebbe not," said the
old man.
IA quarter Of mile makes deal o.
difference in the looks of things
"And them saint used to distances,
can't calculate.''
And he went on with his work, while
the little group strolled on, bright Oc-
tavia with her ribbons and curls float
ing, Bolton carrying her shawl, and
Duncan Ray walking silently OH the
other side.
And just then another gay throng
overlook them, and there was a discus
sion as to where the site should be for
their impromptu banquet; anl present.
ly Duncan Ray looked around
"Where's Octavia?" he asked.
Every body had some kind of an
answer to make.
Auriette Hall had seen her not five
minutes before.
Helen Ray was quite certain that she
was hiding behind the ruined boat-house
on the beach.
Lois Fielding suggested that she had
probably gone back to the steamer for a
scent-bottle, or handkerchief, or some
such tritle.
"She'll be here presently" they all
remarked.
''ln the meantime, let us get the
lunch ready, for there's dark little
edge of cloud down in the West, that
the captain says he don't like the looks
Of"
And where, oil this time, was Oct avi
Olandp
She was springing up the steep and
winding ledge Of the rock, quicker and