The Dillon tribune. [volume] (Dillon, Mont.) 1881-1941, 1886-09-17
!The 1illon Gribunt.
JAKE'S LITTLE GIRL.

SFA1NN". avn 1INNNl NdS.
For many years old Uncle Jake had
kept Il Htii" tavern near one cls,l of the in
lets where he sea breaks through the long
eandhir into The Great South hay. II point
abou: fifteen miles from New York. Of q
pleasant :>,nuHy III summer it was Il pretty
lively resort. Uncle Jake nadc Il jovial
host. and people used to say that he owed
MS good Lraltl iii Il great mca>iirc to The
frequency with which he drank to it him
self. Most of the fishing parties from the
harbors along the bay stopped here for
clalnbakc and IL cocktail; y;chtsiEen an,
chorctl near the inlet, and sr,rtslnen
would put up at the tavern for !; week or
two at Il time. But in winter it .,.,* IL
drcary spot. The monotono,,s turmoil of
the surf was broken only now ana then by
the shrill cry of gull or the shricking If
the wind as it whirled across he bar.
During the long storms only an occasional
wrecker or IL patrol from the life saving
station visited the place. and at amy time
In winter Il party like ours was II rarity.
A real Bohemian freak had brought us
down to Uncle Jake's that night. The
evening before dozen of us artists had met
at u little reunion in the studio of one of
our number. and one Of us seeing I, sketch
Of Uncle .iake'> Ia FERN OH til" easel had
proposed paying him winters visit. We
all knew Uncle Jake. and the itle; Of u
winters visit tn him WaS too much of Il
novelty to Ee resisted So we set out for
the tavern the next day. and arrived there
before night time. Uncle Jake knew that
the trip across the bay had been Il rough
one. So he started Il roaring wood fire.
and when we had finished supper he put
stealnins bowl Of punch on The table.
But, despite his attention and the jollity
of our party. he wasn't in the best of
spirits. No; that he didn't dip hi, glass
Into the punch bowl pretty often. but lie
seemed moody and didn't talk much.
His low spirits seemed also to have had
depressing effect on Samson. hi, l,iy mas
tiff, who wa> about as well known along
the coast us Uncle Jake himself. Usually
he barked II friendly welcome to everyone
who came to the house But he had been
s,,llen and silent all the evening and had
sat near Uncle Jake. resting his head On
his masters knee and now and then look
Ing up wistfully ut him.
had known Uncle Jake and his big
dog longer than the others. had, and no
ticed that something was wrong. Ex-
cepting the last two years, which I had
spent in Europe, had been to the tavern
off and on for about u dozen summers.
had always liked the place-it was 50 far
removed from everyday affairs. There
was usually a fresh breeze coming over
the broad eXpanse of ocean. Il fine surf,
sending its cool spray over the beach. and
here and there white sail outlined
against the blue sky Beside. Uncle Jake
was always hale and jovial with young
fellows and few of them ever paid Il visit
to the tavern without returning to it at
some future day. The old man seemed
glad enough to see me again and made me
sit next to him. But | felt that since |
bad been there some change had come
over him and the dog and the old place,
and ut times he looked as though he
you'd Xix" 10 tell me something but hest
tated OH account of the others.
remembered Il pretty, bright eyed lass,
about J years old when l. last saw her,
who WAS at the tavern iu former years,
bnd whom we used to call ''Uncle Jake's
little girl. She used to make herself
handy about the place and was SO simple
and graceful in her bearing that she was
a favorite with all who Went there. The
sun had Drowned her hands and arms,
and the wind had played with her fair
hair until ii hung over her forehead like
lithesomc. and as strong us she was grace
ful. Often. when she was Il mere girl of
I'D or X. | had seen her pulling her skiff
across til: l',y and hailing the old fisher
men as they >cutlte,l past in their smacks.
Many Il time they would lay to and take
her aboard and tow her skiff home: and
lnen she would take the helm from the
skipper. trim the sheet and shout with
glee as the spray came dashing over the
bow. ! wondered what had be-
come uf her and asked Uncle Jake,
but he didn't seem to hear my
quest n:l. t:u'uyh the dog sprang to
his feet an. r'';:m":l about the room un-
eas;l: h;'f ,rr !1c skunk back to his masters
feet. VA, about to ask the question
agui'; ".'":4 one uf our party proposed a
son W.i'> th:y gathered il, group
ar": Tie old piano in the corner, the
0id -: stole quietly to the door Of
ano' ;:rr rs'!n and leckolled me to follow
him. .\s joined him he was stopping
owe: al old bureau fumbling among some
papers, while the dog. who had slipped in
nftcr him. watched him intently until he
put his hand on tin type. which he drew
ont and showed me. 1t was the picture
IF Il child. and in the features rccog-
nizetl 'Cncle .Iakes little girl In the
next room some one was playing IL jang-
ling accompaniment and the rest We're
shouting boisterous song. | thought
then would he a good time to ask him
what had become of the girl whose
childish features we We're looking ut. 80
inquired, 10y way of introduction. il he
had ever been married. 1t was to this he
had replied: mo, mister, ain't spliccd,
nor never was
"But Yer see" he continued, as though
he knew what was driving at. ''it's uu-
common lonesome here in winter. an
many time when I've heard some young
one ashore yOnter as wasn't cared for ut
home I've got its folks to let me take it
out here with me. The children kind I.