Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1883-05-04
1.-THE BAR LIGHTHOUSE.

Government had for several years
been sadly. neglecting a job of mending
in the case of the Bar Lighthouse
bridge. Here and there boards had be-
gun to spring suspicionsly beneath un-
wary footsteps; then the wind had be-
gun to tear them off, and the rain to rot
and molder them down. What was
every mans business was nobody's, and
no individual was disposed to interfere
with the province of that abstract mil
lionaire, the United States Government.
To be. sure, the keeper of the Bar Light,
solicitous, concerning the holding out of
the structure than any one else, had
wildly and fruitlessly patched some of
the worst places, off and on, after a
hard Ss''northeaster,' when he awoke
more keenly to the eXigencies of the
case, and the hopeless dilatoriness of
his task-master. But it had amounted
to very little. Long neglect had made
something more than mere patching
necessary. Now the quarter-mile bridge
leading to the Bar Lighthouse, if not
in anabsolutely unsafe condition, was
not calculated to inspire any degree of
confidence in the unaccustomed crosser
at least.seIt was not quite SO bad at low
tide, Or on a mild, still day. There
was not so much to fear then beyond a
little fall and asducking; that is, il one
cleared one of those ragged apsrtures
successfully. But on dark night,
with the winds bowling over it, and the
ocean laundering beneath it, it was the
sort of o bridge that only disembodied
spirit could be supposed to cross with
any degree of nonchslance.
The lighthouse itself was only an Or
binary dwelling-hopse, strongly built,
with q tower for the light. 1t stood on
q massive pile of rocks, with little tufts
of coarse vegetationin the clefts. Jack
son Reed, who had an unfortunate love
and longing for garden spot, had ac-
tually wheeled enough earth over from
the mainland for little patch few
yards square, and when he was not en-
gagged in fruitless struggle with the
broken bridge he was engaged in fruit
less struggle with his garden. Apotter-
ing old man was Jackson Reed, lacking
in nervous force and quickness of intel
lect; but he had never let the light go
out, and the only thing that is absolutely
required of lighthouse keeper is to
keep the light burning for the sailors
who steer by it.
The wonder was that his wife Sarah
should have been his wife. She was q
person not of different mold merely,
but of different kind; not of different
species, but different genus. Nervous
and alert, what her husband accepted in
patient silence she received with shrill
remonstrance and questioning. Her
b,,churAI x%atnhal hts1 x.,I;
over its long reach on his old knees;
she rallied, as, she watched him, at the
neglecG of Government. He uncom-
plainingly brushed the sand from his
little, ,lpuny, struggling plants, and she
set her thin face against the wind that
cast it there. ''aH 3a4
In both, the religious, element or cast
of mind was strongly predominant, but
Jackson Reed simply looked out on
Nature and into his own soul, and took
in as plain incontrovertible facts the
broken bridge, the tossing sea, his little
wind-swept, sand-strown garden-patch,
and God in Heaven. Neither proved
the other or nullified the other; they
were simply there. But Sarah Reed,
looking out on the frail, unsafe bridge
which connected them with the MAIN
land, and the mighty senseless sea
which had swallowed up her father and
brother whom she had idolized, and
the poor little tender green things trying
TO live under her window, had seen in
them SO many dumb denials of either
Gods love and mercy or His existence.
She was a rheumatic old woman now,
almost helpless, in fact, unable to step
without the help of her husband. And
she sat, day in and day out. at one of
the searwindows of her sitting-room,
knitting, and holding her defiant old
heart persistently against the pricks.
The minister at Rye, Jealous young
man, with an innocent confidence in his
powers of holy argument, had visited
her repeatedly, with the view of improv-
ing her state Of mind. She had Joined
the church over which he presided, in
her youth; indeed, it was the church
nearest to the lighthouse, and that was
three miles distant. The minister had
heard from one of his parishioners, who
was a connection of hers, that Mis- Reed
had lost her faith, and straightway he
was fired with holy ardor TO do some
thing for her spiritual benefit. But even
his tonguey confidence and ingenious
ness could CLEAN but little satisfaction
from his interviews with the rheumatic
and unbelieying old woman.
..No, Mr.. Pendleton,n she used to say.
shaking o thin rheumatic hand, with an
impressiyeness which her hearer might
have copied adyantageously in the pull
pit, sit amt no use. You kin talk
about seein' with tho spirit, an wor-