News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1884-01-31
Poor Jack.

Lille is worth nOtnlng TO me II Cal
not dress well -
she SAID it, and she meant 1t, fror
her heart. And she looked down scorn
fully and angrily upon her coarse dres
and common shoes. Many and many
time the thought had been in her mind
and now it formed itself in words whicI
she uttered aloud +; and, as they fel
upon the evening air, hand came dow
upon her shoulder, and, turning, she saw
her husband.
SIS it really so, Bell ?" he asked, ant
drew her to him.
A baby thing, though she had q
creature, with a creamy skin and eyes
blue as sapphires are. Not a common
woman one in whose veins blue blood
ran. You could see that at a glance,
though the man whose wife she was was
a common sailor.
They told a romantic story about her
in that seaside palace. How, on a
voyage across the ocean with her.father,
the sailor had won her heart. How there
were, afterward, secret meetings and
troth- -plightings; and how, in the end,
the discovery of the love affair ana her
parents anger had only driven Bell
Raymond to elope with her sailor lover,
and marry him despite all opposition.
She had been disowned and disin-
herited and now, were they to meet in
the street her own father would have
passed her as he would stranger; for,
to his mind, she had disgraced herself
and her family irretrievably.
That Jack Marble was good and hand
some, and Noteworthy, was no excuse
for his daughter in Mr.. Raymond's eyes.
He was a common sailor, that blotted
out all merit at once and forever.
Other people marvelled at Bell Ray
mond's choice, and blamed her too. But
she was very happy. Her young hus-
band idolized her, and at the first money
was plenty. Certain sums, which Jacks
hard-working father had scraped together
for rainy day, and so bequeathed to
his son, were Withdrawn from the bank
in which they had been deposited and
Bell had tasteful wardrobe, for this her
father had sent her, with a cold message
to the effect that her own personal prop
erty was all she need ever expect at
his hands.
Then soon Jack hoped to be a mate;
AoT1
and owner-the grand climax of sea-
faring mans ambition. And to Bell, the
fact that her husband was sailor, threw
a romance about him which landsman
could not have had. Their life passed
on in pleasant sort of waltz music, and
neither dreamt of any change.
Yet change came. Jack left his young
wife for a voyage, understanding, as she
could not, how the little hoard haG
melted away, and would continue tc
melt like snow under sunbeam, and the
voyage was disastrous one, ending il
shipwreck. Many were lost, and Jacb
was only rescued at deaths door with 6
broken limb, and miserable experience
of starvation and consequent cannibal
ism. Indeed, Jack himself came neal
making a meal for two maddened mess.
mates, who afterward wept like babies
- at the remembrance of their horrible
thoughts.
Jack had a good constitution, and re.
covered. His roses came back, and his
hair, long and lank, when they took him
from the floating raft, curled close to his
handsome head again. But he came
back to Bell with a wooden leg and 6
knowledge that his sailor life was over
and that he should never now aspire tc
the title of mate, and master, ano
owner.
Bell loved him all the more, and
pitied him, and cherished him; and, had
they been rich, their life might have
glided on to the old waltz music--a lit.
tie sadder, but no less sweet. But
alas they were not rich, but growing
very poor.
So, as the money grew less, the com.
forts grew less. They left the pretty
rooms to which he had taken her for q
very humble place; and poor Jack, salt
to the very soul and unfit for any lands,
mans work as a fish for a parlor-cage
humbled himself aud said nothing 81
that aching place where his dreams oi
sea and of advancement lay covered up,
-sa4d svsnl into the vacant place left by an
oil -I1<,I Io1 ft-o.1 o4
the wharf and along the shore of the
town where Jack had been born and had
lived all his life.
He had strong arms yet, and was a
wonderful oarsman, and they did not
starve. But their life was the pinchine
life Of the poor, and it came soon to the
coarsest fare and the coarsest dress; and
Bell, who had been used to dainty fooC
and elegant attire, suffered more thar
the sailor who knew what hard-tack was
and was used to roughing it.
He never knew how bitterly she re
pined until coming upon her in a day
dream he heard those words
''Life is worth nothing to me if mus
go snaDDy.
She wept on his shoulder, as he helC
her to him and sobbed out at heart.
''It was more than she could bear. I
was terrible. Their housemaid at home
had better clothes. 1t was horrible tt
look out of the window and hear tn,
sailors wives quarreling with their hus
bands, or scolding their children, o.
beating down the fish-mongers, the bias
from whose tin horns filed the stree
from dawn until sunset. Was such {
life worth anything? and she could no
rid herself of it for an hour, for he
clothes we're not ft to wear where people
were well dressed; and she would not b.
seen by her old friends now"
So she sobbed. And Jacks hanC
smoothed her fair hair, and his lipi
touched her cheek, and by-and-bye h,
whispered: