Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1884-10-24

Dorm spattered the advancing tide
merrily with his bare feet and played
hide and go-seek with his little girl.
All resentment over the birth of a
daughter had vanished now, and the
father was happy and
proud in having both daughter
and son. 1t made things
even, he thought, and who could tell
what the future would bring2 Then,
as he stood there aimlessly swinging
his foot to and fro in the cold water,
an idea seemed to enter and take
possession of his mind. A vague
desire to do something for the young
son who was to bless his life had, in
some unaccountable way, formulated
itself into a tangible idea, and he
tried, unsuccessfully for time, to
give it practical form. He realized,
awkwardIy enough, it must be con
fessed that on this day he ought to
carry an offering to the cradle of his
child-an offering from the sea. In
that moment, It is true, his patient,
hard-w 1rking wife was almost forgot
ten, and his frst-born son filled his
newly awakened Imagination with
a radiance like glow in the western
sky. This seeming neglect of his wife
appeared to him excusable, for the
hard-headed reason that it was
through the fundamentally Of his
son, and not of his wife, that his
desultory ambition was to be realized.
And. besides, his wife had been with
him many years and had not been &C,
customed to such honors at his hands.
Would it be reasonable, therefore, TO
begin now2 He thought not,
An offering from the sea surely was
not hard to find, and yet he heSltated.
Shells al ways have been considered
the time honored trophies of the sea.
Shells were good enough in their way,
and suitable for all occasions of ordI-
nary interest, but as the birth of the
first son seemed to be an occurrence
of more than usual importance, John
Dorn's ambition demanded some
thing moro. Just what to select as
an additional offering puzzled ohm
Dorm for some time. At length n IS
wrinkled face beamed with satlsfac-
ton. He had it now. 1t was flow
ers!
"Be a good girl, Patty, an keep the
sloop till | come back" said he,
Strengthening the kinks out of his
body and turning his face toward the
meadows. Don't be afraid, Patty,
| won't be long"
Then he went across the marshes
alone, turning back his head from
time to time to see that little Patty
came to no harm. Soon he forgot
Patty, however, and walked on, look
ing neither to the right nor t. the left.
His preoccu2led manner, his un-
swerving course toward a cluster of
bright flowers on a neighboring bank,
told as plainly as the day his sudden
and narrow devotion to one all-ab-
sorbing object. Under ordinary con
ditions of mind he would have zig
Jagged from bank to bank, avoiding
the rough places, and following, as
close as possible, the paths lad out by
nature. AS it was, he kept a straight
course. in utter disregard of pools of
water, bitches or mud or lunches OF
Between him and the cluS-
ter OF flowers was Dead Mans Creek.
At low tide it was coy bed OF soft
mud, with q tiny stream of water
trickling down its ce.ter; at high
tide q schooner might have hoated
in it in perfect safety. 1t got its name
from the fact that a man was drowned
there several years before.
Upon the Shiny bank of Dead
Mans Creek John Dorm neither stop
ped nor stayed. With his eyes fixed
confidently upon the cluster of gay
blooming flowers he strobe down
through the eel grass and out into the
mud. Had he been less occupied
with thoughts of his first born sen and
vague speculations concerning the
career likely to open up before hum,
he would have noticed at once, with
the experience of an old fisherman,
that the mud was soft and heavy.
Almost ut run he pushed forward.
In the middle Of Dead Mans Creek
he stopped A shade of vexation
crossed his face, for he found it i'm
possible to cross the mud SO near the
main channel. He stood still mo-
ment trying to think of a better cross
ing further up the brook. He turned
to retrace his steps. What was this?
The heavy mud held him fast! With
a mighty effort he wreuched free one
Of his legs and tried to struggle out to
frmer ground. 1t was impossible.
He but sank the deeper. Then like a
tidal wave the blood rushed back upon
his heart, leaving his cheeks and lips
like ashes. 1t was fear Then he
laughed aloud, a hard, hollow laugh.
Why should ne fear2 Did he pot
know every foot of sea and shore
along the Great South Bay, and was
it likely that any harm should come
to him in sight Of his own home2 1t
was weakness to think of such thing.
The ong-delayed arrival of his son
had unnerved him for moment
that was all Would he MOI put forth
his strength and wrench himself free.
With the energy of desperation he
tried it-oncc -twice-three times
and stood still, exhausted. Fear
shown in his eyes, and the lines of
anxiety deepened across
his pale face, yet he would not cry
out People might laugh to know
that he was stuck in the mud, and he
WIS pIOuu III Ills way - piOuN VI hAo
knowledge of sea and shore, proud of
his ability as sail9r. He would wait
awhile and try again.
But what was this creeping up
from the channels 1t was water. The
The tide was coming in. Instinctively
he sought the highwater mark on the
bank and measured it with his eye.
1t was fully six inches above the top
of his head. In sudden frenzy of
terror he beat the soft mud with
his hands and shrieked aloud. Like
a mailman he glared at the little sheet
of water waving in from the swift
channel like an unrelenting fate. 1t
seemed to mock him. Sea birds cir
cling over his head heard his cries
and scared away; little Patty covered
down in fear.
1t was not aquicksand He did not
sink inch by inch. He stuck fast, and
became as immovable as the bed of
mud itself Cries, tears, prayers,
alike were in vain. No one heard,
for although the little house among
the trees was in plain sight, yet it
was beyond the range of the humaa
voice
The tide came in slowly, and after
awhile it touched HIM, and climbed
up his helpless legs and threw the
radiance of the sinking san into his
IL L T. L. Il