Devils Lake inter-ocean. (Devils Lake, Ramsey Co., Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1905, 1885-09-12
A ROMANCE OF THE SEA.
With an Axiam That All Young Ladies
Should Heed.

Long Branch.
1t was blowing great guns. A June
wind whipped the sea into spume and
ent it flying into the bathing-houses
and bank in riffs OF spray. Fashion
shivered in o%vcrcoats and iurs Oh the
%esplanade. The farmers back on the
sand runes said they had never seer
anything like it. The hay burnt up
before it matureu; tine corn stood only
eight inches in the corntield, and the
peas hadn't had warmth enough to
make their pods.
1t was so irigid at the West end that
fashion escaped having lis blood chill
ed only by not having any blood. The
wild waves did nothing all day but hiss
at the people Oh the shore, and one
amateur vocalist vino tried to sing.
''Break, break. break sent all the
bank cashiers bowling from the hotel
parlor.
''Dieu me pardonne," said Mrs. Cam
opus. who prays and swears in French,
''but it is cold hure!' and she puts her
Japanese parasol up to keep off the
temperature. Not Il Irritation to warm
ones cheeks at" and she tried to score
a failure on her forehead with the tip
OF The parasol, but the wind hal blown
all the Paris white OFT.
Very bleak was the esplanaGn. The
equipagcs that came out ut 4 o'clock
had rugs piled up i'll them nd the
horses tails were blown out st, ight to
leeward. The GroSvenor Platts mad a
childrcu's party last nig t at the notel
and they stu, the windo VS. ;,ld played
pawns round i blazing wood fire.
came down here to get the dust
and ashes Of the winter blown out of
me. SO lean up against the ocean
blast c%ontidingiy and look at the pa
geantry OF the sea and the froth of
fashion.
The belle OF the place is little Dora
Cranston. You probably remember
her last season ut Richiield Springs,
where she and Zclie de Lussan walked
away with ali the admiration. 1t is
only three summers ago that l saw her
digging the sand down there on the
beach with a wooden paddle. One
day she threw down her pail and shov-
e, struck 4 pensive attitude, with her
little white finger on her forehead, and
changed her mind.
What nonsense it is being q child"
she said. ''I'm tired of digging sand.
I'm going up to The motel, ue woman,
and %ilirt."
The next time l saw her she was in
long dresses. The transformation
scene had taken place in one night.
The evolution of a woman is not SCI
ence--it is magic. She capers along
as a girl up to some great emotion,
o-,t tlnn e,,r1,jor1v ,r1nnne ha,. childhood
and puts it away forever.
pardon me-" she says to you the
next morning when You attempt to
chuck her under the chin. pardon
me; we were acquainted, but that was
yesterday. 1t is not customary to treat
a lady with such familiarity
She has the stamp of maturity OF her
mouth.
If you call attention to her shovel
and pail or to her doll, lying neglected
on the shore, she lifts her eyebrows and
remarks: ''Some poor little dear of
yesterday has left it there"
These little Columbines of society
make such rapid changes that we poor,
tie to follow them.
~ Iuu ~ q "Olldu pay .
her whole drama OF life. After that
she sits in the audience and looks on.
Dora Cranston is Cranston no long
er. [ suppose you know that. if you
know anything about it. She married
railroad iron, and some OF it has gone
into her heart. was looking at her
last night as she stood in the moon
light on the piazza, and | had a fancy
that the two parallel lines on her pref
ty forehead rcsembl"d Il narrow-guage
track.
And all this in three years.
Certainly and more. 1t is the Long
Branch romance. 1t comes with Tho
June skies regularly.
II you ferret out a real romance by
the sea you will generally find that i
goes the wrong way.
a not help recalling Mrs. CAno'
rUs' remark:
Oh, transport dun cGur glacr!
Dora's is frozen.
..Where's your poat:?' | asked. tht
moment l got IL confidential opportu
nifty.
IL buried him IN the sand with IN,
paddle long ago." she replied with
laugh.
She spoke of two years as long ago
Lets 90 down and dig him on
with our memory" | said. 9Th
moon is shining and the wind has gon'
down"
Anything that isn't tiresome." sh'
cried, ''aud the past is awfully funny
sometimes"
HE told me everything. you know
So we can be frank l said.
She sat down on the rustic bench
and very beautiful she was in the glar'
of that brassy June moon
This is the girl whose cheeks. tw'
years ago, looked like lilies and who's
lips spoke roses, making a continue
garland of expression.
used to see the red tide-mark in he
cheek whenever she met him. Nov
she was as cold as the late season. Sh'
had the whole sophistry of life at he
tinger-ends. She breathed irony a
easily as she looked hypocrisy.
.'Yes. you know all about it, o
course" she said. you ought t.
make a story OF it. 1t has all the hu
NOR, all the folly, all the piquancy 0
the commonplace romance. Why, W
a in this very place two summer
ago and did the whole traditional bus
mess.
Then the leaden sea shimmcred il
golden fire mists. He used to hold m
spell-bound sitting just where you are
remember l used to cuddle up to hin
and listen. 1t was like an anthem. d
rou l.povr u.ad tn think that If any