The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1885-11-18

Ihey were venting their Indignation
against the steamship. and the comDina-
tion of untoward circumstances that had
delayed their voyage
Standing little apart from the group
was a slim, pale faced girl, in dress Of
quiet-gray, unrelieved save at the throat,
where bit of cherry colored ribbon was
gathered into prim bow.
This was Elsie Annabel, and she was
maid and companion to the Misses Gale,
VINO were named respectively Agnes and
Eunice.
She took no part in the conversation,
but there was a sad and wistful look in
toward the western horizon.
otis outrageous !" cried Papa Gale.
''Shamefull" echoed his wife.
'lt's killing mel" sighed Miss Eunice.
81 am really faint with ennui!" CHR
ruped Miss Agnes.
''lt's deucedly unfortunate p' chorused
the young men.
"If something would only happen!"
continued Agnes.
81 tell you what2" cried the elder of
the young men, addressing Miss Eunice,
in particular.
''Well2" interrogated that young lady,
with listless attempt at interest.
''Let's write letters to our friends, en-
close them in bottles, and throw them
overheard. They're no doubt consider
ably worried over our long absence, and
as it's impossible to tap the cable and
telegraph them q message, we'll make
old oceans waves our letter carrier"
"Pshaw, Rob-" retorted Miss Eunice,
Struggling her shoulders. ''How senti-
mental you are AS though letter put
into bottle and thrown into the sea
would ever reach anywhere"
'I've read somewhere, said Rob Car
rington, that ship-wrecked sailors
often send messages to their friends that
way. "We're about as bad as ship
wrecked, why can't we2'
Let's ask The captain !" said Eunice;
and she walked toward that officer, who
was moodily pacing up and down the
bridge
The others followed.
"Yes, Miss" answered the captain.
when Eunice had asked him about the
possibility of the bottles being washed
ashore. I've no doubt they'll each land
somewhere. The steward will furnish
you with bottles if you desire to make
the experiment"
There was something novel in the
idea, and every empty bottle on ship
board was soon brought on deck.
Everybody, young and old, began to
write letters-everybody except Elsie
Annabel.
No waiting kindred anxiously ex-
pected her return, and the only real
friend she had ever had, handsome Guy
Chalmers, was lost to her.
Two years before she had engaged
herself TO the young artist, but they had
quarreled, and separated in anger, as
lovers will.
She was too proud to ask his forgive
ness, and he was too stubborn to ask
hers.
Gradually they had drifted apart, and
finally lost all sight of each other.
Elsie sighed as these thoughts of the |
past surged through her mind, and she
sighed-a bitter, quivering sigh.
Papa Gale was a rich pork merchant,
and. in his rough way, was kind to her.
He paid her literally for the service
she rendered In polishing up the some
what neglected educations of his two
daughters, but they were selfish and ca
PRECIOUS, and her lot was not, by any
means, happy one.
The steamships deck now rang with |
Joyous laughter and merry jest, as the /
prepared the messages that /
hey confidently hoped would be waited |
All sorts of letters were written, read /
over laughingly, placed in their frail re-
,eptacles, and cast into the sea.
Even the sailors became interested in |
he experiment, and sent out messages to .
waiting friends, or anxious sweethearts,
n dear America.
''Have you written your message yet. /
Miss Annabell" asked Agnes Gale, halt
ng for moment beside her maid, as she
eaned over the rail and watched the
ightly-corked bottles, as they bobbed
Up and down.
'My message?" cried Elsie, with a
yuilty start, for she had just been think
ng of Guy Chalmers. "Ah--eh-Teally
i have no one to write tor
''No onel' persisted Agnes.
"Nom was the low answer, and Ell
les eyes dropped.
THAT'S too bad !" said Agnes, COM
"Everytody is sending
nut message If were you I'd just
write something and send it off at ran
lom. You could sign your name and
ddress, and perhaps someone would
ind it who'd be anxious to know who
ou are and wolld write. That would
'e romanticp
'I've no taste for romance!" answered
llsie, but she nevertheless procured a
Ottle, and after moments thought,
1rote on piece of paper.
"IN Mm-OCEAN, ON STEAMER NANTIc.
Jug. Ian accident which happened to
ur propeller has delayed our voyage, and
70 are nine days cut from Liverpool The
aptain says we are Just half way between
nat port and New erik. Everybody is
'ell.
'ELSIE ANNABEL,
"Care of John Gale, ESQ.,.
walnut Hills, Cincinnati, Ohio.n
She placed this simple message in
I 4 ii -