The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1884-12-13

| u1scVho VI ot'I ldilllly was apparent IN
his courtly bearing made more emphatic
by the lordly air that years of sover-
eighty on board his hip had given him.
de added, moreover, to that intelli.
! gence and breadth of view which Ordi-
narily distinguished the sailor. with his
varied experience of men and countries.
from the plodding and narrow-minded
farmer, the vestiges of an early educa-
ton IN books and schools much exceed
| ing that common among men of his
calling.
But as he sadly shook his snowy head,
lamenting for his sea-faring race soon
to become extinct, my teacher. FORGET
ting his intirmity, fastened to say, nod
ding and smiling toward me; But here
is Ralph, Captain Rainford, a good boy
and as bright as need be at his lessons,
whenever he chooses to study"
''He will always persist in seeing me
against the background of a black
board and a map" | groaned inwardlv,
while my poor mother, who so seldom
heard syllable in my praise, grew
radiant with pleasure and deluged nv
cakes with fresh supply of syrup
My grandfather had not heard the
teachers words, but he followed her
glance and said, bending his shaggy
brows upon me with a frown:
NAY, madame, the Rainford men
have passed away The lad features
my son, but only as a shadow in the
glass. Manhood is declared in action,
and this mopish girl in pantaloons-
dear madame, pray excuse the term
is but the hollow echo of voices heard
no more. His arms are pipe stems and
his hands are claws. He has never done
a deed, nor can, nor will. He bears the
Rainford eyes and hair, and dwells be-
meath the Rainford roof, but as useless
ly as picture on the wall The men
of my name, dear madame. sleep in
ocean graves, all save myself, whom
death has, maybe, forgotten, for never
yet has the spoiler sought Rainford on
land. All! if my son had left son. and
not doll, behind him. | would vet sail
the seas once more and be buried where
my father sleeps, in the far Arctic
Ocean, with an iceberg for my only
monument"
The melancholy majesty Of the old
mans manner had brought the tears to
his listeners gray eyes He noticed
them, well pleased, and when, on rising
from the breakfast table, she equipped
herself Tor school, wrapping about her
shoulders a warm, red cloak, with hood
and hanging tassel not the timid re-
mOnstranccs of my mother nor the chill
of the wintry morning could restrain
the gallant old gentleman from Offering
the teacher his arm to the school-housc
We were doubtless a comcal little
company as we made our way across
the frozen fields, treadng cautiously on
the .ice-crusted drifts of snow and fol-
lowing, where we could, the direction
Of the spell-bound river, that glittered,
white and voiceless, at the bottom of
the long embankment, near whose edge
we stepped. My grandfather insisted
on yielding up the narrow fOotpath,
trodden by the schOOl-bOyS, to his de-
mrTre companion, and struggled on by
her side as best he could. feeling his
way with a mighty cane whose knot was
wrought of whales tooth and whose
weight was more than | often cared to
lift. A blue comforter, the ends stream
ing in the wind, was tied about his ears.
Miss Lincoln walked quietly beside him
in her red cloak, resting her little hand
lightly on his great coat-sieeve and
giving ear to the old sailors profuse
and stately compliments with as com
posed a countenance as if he were re-
citing the multiplication table |
limped ut a goo.l distance behind, my
books under my arm and my cap drawn
closely down over my sulky face. I was
suffering the rude shock of awaxing
into my natural world and realizing,
for the first time, what mdicruus
figure | had cut. child in size; without
education, health or prospects, in ten
dering a romantic love-letter to- nv
matter-of-fact little school-mistress, who
concerned herself solely with my spell
ing.
The situation, bitter at the dregs
though it was, began to tickle my sense
of humor. I thought of travelling
circus | had once visited and tried to
picture myself, in green suit, with bat
like wings, playing the part of hobgob-
lin in the comedy of life But | have
often since had occasion to observe. es-
pecially in my professional career, that
comedy and tragedy walk hand in
hand. just as | was watching the red
tassel and one end of the blue, com
forter, having been blown together by
a gust of sleety wind dancing and
flirting in the most indecorous, manner
behind their wearers' backs, there rose
a shout behind us.
''The bull! Look out! The bullr' |
knew the meaning of that cry too well.
l knew what ferocious animal it was
that Farmer Ingram kept stalled up in a
corner of the lot through which we
were passing. In summer we school
children always stunned this pasture,
but through the winter the ball was kept
in confinement and | had entertained
no thought of peril. How well l re-
member that instant! There was no
time for dreaming then The spark of
manhood in my blood burst into flame.
l looked upon life and death. and honor
outshone them both. felt u strange
exultation and complete self-possession.
The furious beast, its tail erect and head
bent low, maddened by the sight of the
red cloak, was rushing full upon Miss
Lincoln, who had bat just caught sight
of it and stood pale as ghost, helpless
from utter terror. Throwing down my
books, | hurried toward her as fast as