Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1886-05-04
THE MADONNA OF THE TUBS.
Elizabeth stuart Phelps in HarPcrs.
fCoNrtNUEp.

III.
u He must have found them Benzlne
children by this time,' Mrs. salt ran on,
taking to her irons again uervouslv. But,
fact is, I'm nerer easy IN my mind when
Henry's in thick weather, not even otl.shore.
It's hard being woman in Fairhsrbor.
Our minister said, SAYS he, when he
first came to town he noticed all the
women-iolks called II, the dreadful sea-
| guess, come to think of IL, we do-iest
as you'd say Monday mornin'' or 'cold
weather. and never take notice of your
words. You see, I'm kind a. down t.. night
tell the truth, Miss Ritter.-Ies, Rafe, watch
tor papa, dear. He'll he disappointed il he
doesn't see RATE tirSt--l wouldn't tell the
child lust yet You see, his fathers got to go
TO the Banks. Rafe hates to have his father
90 to the Banks He worries We thought
we'd get along--for me and Raie do worry
so-but Henry's had an awful poor season
oil shore He thinks he's got to 20. He amt
made but twenty-five dollars and sixty
three cents this summer. It's safer oil-
shore, take it all, though it's bad enough,
Miss Ritter, fix 1t "a you will. Ii was OIL
shore his boat keeled over eight years ago the
sd of September, not more'n two mil es
Oft the light him and JOB Ely and Peter
Salt and William y. salt went down in a
squall, and I'd been nervous all day so
wnen ii struck l got the glass, and to TX
Emma Eliza-for she was little then, but
my oldest born, and all l had TO speak to
that would understand-and me and Emma
Eliza we walked over the downs, and over
the downs, blowed about sgen the wiud with
the glass, and stood watchin'; and, my gra.
cious God, Miss Ritter, ] saw that there boat
go down before my living eyes ~
1t was an old story, told to how many
neighbors and "summer people" how
many times! but at this point the fisher
| mans wife gasped aud blanched. Sh,
| had never been able to finish it, eact
time she thought she should, She took
mn Haf- for taa
we're dropping on Mrs Hannibal p. Harrow
| stones tluted skirt
| .He h'isted on to the keel, her bottom up
| most" she said, in a lower voice, "snd they
| all h'isted on and held, and a lumber schoon
er from Maine come along full canvas, but /
| took an eternal punishment, lookin' through
| the glass, to get her swung to aud dory oil
| But they was saved-him and Job Ely au,
| Peter salt and William y. Salt-and him
but they looked like flies before nv eyes, 70
| the sea broke over 'em, and they KEEP a-sliE
| PIN, and so me and Emma Eliza put dow
| the glass and come home and set down an,
| Emma Eliza made me a cup OF tea-for 1 wa
| that gone, and her so little to do for me. Aut
| there we set, for we couldn't do notbin' til
he come home at five minutes past nin
o'clock, Dustin open the door-so drip
PIN wet, and pale as his own corpse, and
SAYS, Henry! Henry and he says, Mel
ly Jane" and we says no more, for some
way we couldn't do it But Emma EliZ
creditor she used to Fellow, that chilC
| did, when she was little-enOugh to wax
| last years msckerel catch, aud then sh
| made her fathers tea, for / was that gone
and, you see, Miss Ritter, it was next month
| Rafe was born, aud he was born, my dear
| as he is"
"Marm, don't see my father" inter
rupted Raie, in his gentle, drawing voice
from the open front door.
" And 80, as ! SAYS" proceeded Mrs. Salt
more briskly, " tishin' is fishin', oh-shor
or no. But l haven't no confidence Il
the Grand Banks. ! wish my husban
hadn't got TO go this fall. 'aint an
time to be nervous, but there's alway
time to see things. You know, you see hil
so, before your eyes, all sorts OF ways, whe
he's that far from you-fogs, or q gale, or
squall-drownin' mostly, and calm aftt
you, If you re his wife and have always don
for him. Even headache he'd run to yo
about And to stand here ironin, thou
and miles away, and him maybe"
"Marm," called Rafe, " see my ta-thei
l see my father
"well, there" cried Ellen Jane Salt, pm
ting down her irons tremendously. ST
blushed lie a girl and hustled about, Hplc
ing up here and there, and hurrying to fl
the cod for supper. She almost forgot h.
young lady customer, who was glad just the
to slip away.
On the way down the lane she met Il
fisherman and his children hurryiI
home, but in the dusk they passed wi
sad, and Henry Salt was hungry; so Il
!, with her kindly "Well, Henry ~ and
with his civil "H'ar' yer, Miss Ritter
went their ways. IL so happened from OF
tritiing cause and another-she was called
f Boston earlier than usual, and what not,
, that this was the last time she spose to II
good fellow that season, as she aiterward r
membered.
She turned in the dark lane, and watche
the group scrambling home in their happ,
| y ba hi
baby Che was known in the Salt family
"the other BABY pick back all the way
Sue and Tommy trudged and Uoddlet
snatchng at his Oil-clOthas, which were we
and slipped from their little round re
hands.
| Henry Salt sang, as he carried " the otht
baby" snatch OF sailor song Miss Rite
had never heard before
| "Give the wind time
| To blow the man down"
Past the rose thicket, by the great bow
der, dim in the dark and the now drenct
ing log, man aud children, pushing me-
rily home, made one confused group, like
cehtaur or a torso to the watchers eye.
The cottage door was wide open. VIII;
a splendOr OF light leaped out! Was it onI
that Kerosene lamp upon the ironing table
| How it beat back the crawling iog, whIc
made as II 1t would enter first and was ds
MED.
"Giye the wind time"
rang the isherman's happy bass.
From outside, through the door one coul
see clearly and FAR. All the little hous
seemed to lean out to draw them in tn
sweet tidy, homely things grew gilded an
glorious, and had look az If they stirred
even the instrument could be seen deep i
the parlor, with the reduced high art paper
| In the doorway, once again. the Madonn
OF the Tubs had found that fine, unconsciou
sttitude-half STOPPING to take Rafe, VIII
had stood too long upon his little crutch. ii
put up his hand and stroked her cheek
"Ob, marin, I've got my father ~
| Give the wind time
| To blow the man down."
sang Henry Salt Laughing he snatche
and kissed the child-the mother, too, pei
haps- Down there in the dark wet Ian