The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1883-11-03

STORY FOR YOUNG FOLKS.
"My half days work is done,
And this is all my part,
give patient God
My patient heart.
''And grasp His banner still,
Though all the blue lie dim,
For stripes no less than stars
Lead after Him.
Down among the rocks and sunken
light house. And the revolving light.
as it turns slowly, shows first the terri
bic waters that lightly cover the danger
GUS rocks and many half forgotten graves
and then it shows grand gray castle.
that stands securely on the crags, and
lifts a weather beaten front to sun and
storm.
There is a story that connects these
two-the lighthouse and the castle. A
story that is very sad, as the stories of
many lives would be if they were writ
ten.
Twenty-Five years ago the heir to Mel
ford Manor was little, sturdy, straight
limbed boy of five; a child who was al
ways restless, always in mischief. One
moment he would be chasing the chick
ems in the farm-yard, and the next try
ing experiments on his little brothers I'M
der nurses dignifed eyes. When the
babies cried, Master Phillip was always
ordered off in disgrace, to take prim
walk with Jenny. That was always the
end of it-Jenny and peace, Jenny and
happiness.
But as it is Jenny's story 1 am going
to tell you, let me describe her to you as
she stood, one sunny afternoon in March,
hand in hand with Phillip Wynne down
among the Melford rocks. To begin with
she was nursery maids a little girl
whom Lady Wynne had chosen out of
the village school for her good behavior,
and also perhaps for that strange, sad,
far away look in her eyes. She was
young-'.just on fifteen" as she said
herself-but she had way with children
that whole lifetime could not have
taught her. She had motherly instincts
that were deep rooted in her heart, and
that gave charm to her in the eyes of
children that older people might have
over looked. All children loved her. Up
in that great airy nursery there was a
paradise to her. A paradise of little
folks, who clustered around her.
1.-The children want me-" she would
say; and her whole sad face would change
and tighten as she rose to meet them.
So on that March afternoon-a bright,
warm day after a week of cold. buster
ing winds-she took little Phillip by the
hand and went down among the rocks.
1T is so hotr' said Phillip, balancing
himself on the slippery seaweed. 81
can't jump any more. May we get out
into the boat, Jennyo''
Surely" said Jenny. "You're well
wrapped up, and it's warm
The boat was some tisherman's boat,
tied loosely to stake, and was bobbing
| safely about on the rising tide. They
! went down together to the waters edge,
| and Phillips shrill laugh rang out joy
fully as he tumbled into the boat and
seized an oar. Jenny came last, pausing
for moment to read the painted name
outside. The Swallow-John Smith. -
Now lie still, Master Phiilip,' she
said, land Shut your eyes and listen"
The sun was very hot, and the little
boat rose and fell monotonously on the
sweeping waves. Phillip shut his eyes,
/ SO tina: the Pickering light upon the wa
ter might not dazzle them. Jenny sang
softly to herself long after he had fallen
asleep, with his chubby face hidden on
her knee and his hair limp with the sea air.
| Then Jenny began to find that the sun
light made her eyes ache, too, and the
water made her giddy, and she too Shut
her eyes and laid her head upon the gun
vale. When she awoke there was high
| wind, and it was growing cold and she
was shivering. 1t was quite light still,
but a heavy sea-fog had crept upon them
unawares, and everything was gray and
misty about them. A little frightened
At the sudden Stiffness she crept across
| the sleepin. child and found the rope.
The boat half turned, and then rocked
aimlessly from side to side. She drew
the rope inch by inch, into the seat be-
side her, and looked at it with kind OF
| stupid wonder, too frightened to realize
! that they were out alone ON the wide
waters, and the sea fog was dense about
them.
Little Phillip lay fast asleep in the bot
tom of the boat, and though she shouted
| till she was hoarse, he never stirred.
Then, when the silence had grown terri
BILE, she crouched down beside him and
laid her cheek to his. Her heart was
beating wildly, but the breathing fell
with soft regularity through his baby
lips, and it seemed to quiet her to feel
this mute companionship. 1t had grown
almost dark when he woke at last, quer-
ulous and cold.
"We are out in the boat, she told him
cheelily; land the fog makes it dark.
But have some biscuits in my pocket,
and we will make believe we're eating
supper. We can have our real tea when
we get home"
So she laid the biscuits on the seat
and chartered on while he ate them
greedily, until she made him laugh. Then
she drew him up on her knee and sang
him songs and hymns, until he fell again
into heavy sleep. 1t was now quite
dark.
at is night" she said aloud. ''And
the children will DE wanting me-"
Little Phillip slept as calmly as in his
own little bed at home, but Jenny was
cold and restless. She sat up in the dark