Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1884-10-24
JOHN DORN'S son.

Bay. Long Island. East ard west,
like wavy fields of green and brown,
the Bellmore marshes stretched away
in the unbroken loneliness to meet the
dim beauty of the horizon. The Wind
had gone down, leaving the broad
bosom of the water as still as mirror
upturned on the level sands. The sun,
shining through countless leagues OF
haze, cast tremendous shadows to
ward the east, and, rising up with
shaded brows to meet its rays, John
Dorm, a CHEEKY fisherman, stood out
in silhouette against the sky. Fast
mingling with the purple and gray OF
the leeward rim Of sea and sky, lazy
schooner winged its southwark llight,
and when the dusky distance closed
upon it John Dorm and his weather
beaten old boat alone broke the
chanoeless monotony Of marsh ana
meadow. Left high and dry by the
receding tide the old boat lay bolt up
right in the soft mud as taut and trim
MS though moored 10 her moss grown
berth at Bellmore Landing. Her sails
hung limp and motionless against her
mast, and about her shining deck
brown haired little girl romped and
laughed in childish glee
It was u1spcakably lonely out on
the wide reaching marshes. but as
honest John Dorm shaded his eyes
with his rough brown hand and
gazed seward he gayly whistled
tune that he had learned up in the
little white -steepled meeting house IN
Bellmore village. 1t did not seem
lonely or dreary out there, Tor to him
il was home, The blue sky above
him and the dimpling shadows before
him spoke only OF home; the marshes
had been his playground III youth,
and the meadows behind hIm were as
we'll known as the little garden back
of. his own modest cottage among a
clnmp Of distant trees. Even though
the marshes had not been so familiar
as the stubby fingers on his weather
beaten hands, and had the sky been
black with clouds and driving rain,
John Dorm would have been just as
happy and free from care, for up III
the little house among the trees a son
had been born to bless his approach
ing old age. A daughter he had
already, and another slept beneath
the sea grass in his garden, but until
this day son had been denied him.
1t would not be fair to say that
John Dorm had grumbled at fate
when grave middle life came and saw
no sons in his family, but somewhere
down in tho depths of his stout heart
he argued that although girls were
good enough IN their way, and per
haps were necessities of an all wise
scheme, yet only boy could stand
his trick at the wheel or reef the main
sail IN gale of wind. John Dorm
wanted some one to bear him com
pany in his silent pIlgrimages to the
fishing grounds and to the oyster BEDS
and in turn to guide the old SloOp out
to sea when he himself should in
the course of time be kept ashore by
the accumulated rheumatism of many
years of active life. Aud SO on this
soft summer day, when little mewl-
ing, red headed son had taken posses
sion Of the household, Johu Dorm
lifted up his honest soul in thanksgiv
ing, and went away to his work in the
marshes rs blthelv as though his
wedding day was not a score of years
behind him in the dead but unforgot
ten past.
The world WAS bright and fair to
John Dorm that day, for in the future
he saw his son, strong, sturdy -limbed
steering with heavy hand the labor
ing vessel, pulling merrily the weary
oar, and ON the Sabbath Day tIudging
man(uliy to church with a swarm Of
children. John Dorm smiled and
hummed solemn hymn, and ina the
height Of contentedness stopped down
and imprinted on his daughters wavy
hair forgiving kiss. Iienceforth
the innocent little girl should no be
denied the love which disappointment
had held for SO long a time.
As he guided his sloop through the
serpcntnc channel leading out TO the
hay his heart became as water, and
IN the enrolling influence of that
feeling he seemed to lose his sunbeam
and his wrinkles, and to grow young
again,
Quickcncd by the breath of awaken
ed love, the vague ambition of early
life came back, and in the mirage that
somehow doomed up above the blue
surface of the bay he saw his son,
and incidentally himself, crowned
with all the honors that y grateful,
respecting, local community could
bestow. Unquestioniug assumption
Of the probability, or even the posi-
bihtv, of future social or political
preferment for his son was proof
positive that no such distinction was
likely To be accorded him, the aryu
meut in the matter being, in effect,
that nothing but the most dishearten-
ing of native ploddcrS could come to
such Il combination of dullneSs and
unreasonable hope. Had John Dorn'S
ambition taken definite form and
sought by such means as lay within
the marrow circle of the life along
shore to carve out the way to the
coming mans ennoblcment. there
might have been strong ground for
hope, and willing hands from the
great city, whose dusky confines lay
but little beyond the distant view of
earth and sky might have been
stretched out 10 help the instinctleSs
wayiarcr over unknown paths that
led to the goal OF his ambition; but,
AT its best, John Dorn's ambition was
as formleSs rs the night, and as dis
couragiug rs his wife'S mfcriority. In
such rayleSs gloom what hope for
lightt Who but purposeless en-
thusiast would see the flower of genius
III such a traclllesS waStel
All the tendencies Of nature were
against John Dorm, but yet working
bitterly on the wild marshes, he sang
song that filled his soul with low.
The changes in life were against John
Dorn's ambition, and vet he hoped.
In simple truth il must be said that
his ambition, never wholly stationary
or definite, changed as often as the
wind. Sometimes his much-loved son
guided ship to distant seas; oftener
he sang cheerily il n fishing boat in
the Great South Bay, and once in a
rare while he stood within the torch.
lights glare to discuss the burning
issues of the hour Always it was the
goal, and not the paisful, weary
means, that this ambition touched
upon; always results, never the process
of attainment The viviSectienist is
right, though cold and unsympathetic
there was little hope for either John
DorN or his son.
CLAIMS were plentiful that day, and
IAh,, nN,,,f- a,