Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1883-05-24

our naughty, fast-sailing, clever little
lugger.
had very independent, irregular
sort of life. My grandfather was often
away for days at time, and the old
woman who looked after the house
for grandmother was dead long since
would have had little tine for scour-
ing and cleaning if she had tried 10
look after me. Igot 8 little book learn.
ing from the old vicar, but it was not
enough to hurt me. No, my dears;
knew no Italian. no Latin, no algebra
but my eyes were none the less bright.
my lungs none the less clear, my color
none the less blooming, that l passed
most of my days in the bright sunshine,
and free, fresh air. I could run a
couple of miles and jump a gate; /
could pull an oar with the best, and I
could swim like duck. I was thor
oughly at home either on the water or
IN 1t. The sea had no terrors or diff.
ficulties for me, except such as it was
pleasure to overcome. So, at sixteen,
L am told, was a fresh-colored, free
hmbed, bright-eyed young maid, whose
only trouble was her long tfesses of
thick brown hair, and who bothered
her head very little with the other sex.
Not but that | had admirers.
But they were limited in quantity and
coarse in quantity. I mean rough !;
manly enough, but lacking in that re-
tinement which young girl in any
rank of life always long for, and with
sometimes sad results. Anyhow, the
bold young fisherman who made sheep
ish cvertures to my formidable self ex-
! cited nothing On my part but polite
amusement, and [ was quite whole.
| was very happy, had wonderful ap-
petite, and sound in wind and limb,
and perhaps, young people, you have
to thank the rough freedom of my
early life for the excellent constitu-
tlOns which you now enjoy.
On 2 certain day in September, when
L was nearly seventeen years Of age,
my grandfather being absent on one of
his expeditions, and expected back at
night, | set off for one of the long ram
bles in the country which 1 was in the
habit of taking when he was away. as
| was not allowed to go off in this fash.
ion when grandfather was at home I
| made a big day of it, starting immed-
lately after breakfast, and, taking some
| bread and meat with me for dinner,
rambled much further than [ intend
ed, lost my way more than once, and
| the night was coming apace when [ re-
| turned. Tired and foOt8Ore, was tax.
ing & short cut over the heathery cliffs,
where was only narrow track made
by the sheep, when amidst my dreamy
anticipations of supper and bed came
the recollection of little serge bath
ing suit, which | had meant to fetch
in the morning in order to repair it.
The little cave where I kept it was
among the rocks of the Point, and
from where [ was, being already on
the seward side of the village, it was
not far distant. So Istepped out brisk
~ and soon came to the little gully or
ravine in the rocks which led to my
cave, up which, in the couree of the
night, our smugglcd features would be
stealthily conveyed. Carts used to
stand at the upper end of it to take
them away.
l slipped into my cave, felt for my
dress and found it, and too lazy Just
then to face the ascent up the gully
again, stood gazing out to sea and won
dering where my grandfather was at
chat moment. Then [ turned home
ward. | had got about q third of the
gully, which was very dark, when
heard q strange sound. / stopped to
| listen. 1t was not the scream of a sea-
bird, nor the moaning of the sea. II
came down the gully and drew nearer,
beat, beat, with little, very distinct,
| jingGng sound. 1t was the tramp CT men
and the clink Of steel. Soldiers! I had
never seen any, but I guessed what
they were In moment had scram-
| bled cautiously up the rocks and hidden
behind ledge. l crouched perfectly
still, with every sense on the alert.
Suddenly the measured tramp ceased,
and presently two men came slowly
down the gully, talking in low voices.
| They wore long cloaKs, and their weap-
ous jingled as they walked. They pass
ed me and stood at the lower end of
the gully. The air was still, and I could
hear every word they said.
'This is the place, s. ;" said the big
ger and stOuter of the go. "The goods
are landed 81 little to he left of here,
carried up the gully, and received at
the top by the carts. The carts stand
where we came dow ~
The other, who by the ease of his
bearing and the defence of the big man,
[ took to be an Office, had paper in
his hand. He looked around him, evil
IDENTIFY taking in the features of the
place.
There won't be any carts tonight,
sergeant" he said in a pleasant voice.
"The people in the village know we are
here and will be sure to warn them. ]
hope they won't manage to warn the
man we want"
mot they, sir" answered the SER
geant. "Not boat can leave the harbor
without its being stopped by our men,
and not man can leave the village and
come in the direction of the Point if
| you post the men as [ venture to sug-
gest." Here the conversation became
inaudible for moment. ga man at the
top of the gully, sir, and the others at
intervals on the seward side of the
village. You and /, sir, to manage the
| signals down here, and then l step up
| to the man at the top OF the gully, one
calls In another, and we are all down
here ready to receive them."
"By all means, " said the officer; "and
as you know the place and | don't, you
had better post the men. By the
way" he added, scanning The paper in
MS hand and holding it close to his
eyes, sat 1880 I think it is the signal.
You understand that, don't yo.?'
The sergeant produced something,