Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1886-05-28

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captain; it will supply just the element
of picturcsqucncss that the tale lacks
OldJuan takes his fourth cgarct and list
ems; Manucla leaves her pots and pan,
and pokes brown face out of the door
She has never seen the captain so ami
mated; no one else has, for that matter.
Tho bellies of Humboldt County are moi
accustomed to playing on the minds OF
men as a skillful player does upon .
flute.
"Will you be long in poyt?' asks Miss
Brantomc.
"Two weeks at least; the lighters
are so uncertain and the McXicans 50
lazy"
you know my uncle, believe"
40, well. dincd with him in the
spring, and he has visited my ship
"Thcn you must come and sec us, SO
| that can hear the rest of this most in
teresting story of your voyages. And
| perhaps some day, if you should insist
very strongly, my aunt and | will make
you little visit on board the Pelican.
| He does insist, and she thinks at
once how she can take notes of his
nautical belongings while ho cntcrtains
| llNl uNuNs II WIN lN'lNllt NpliiN uNlloll-
ness, but at that she is no novice.
Now be sure and come soon, cap
tain," she says in her unconventional
way, with which no one finds fault be-
cause the world accords many privil-
eyes TO scribbling woman. And so he
| leaves, for the mon will miss him, and
rs he passes the corner of the palm
cluster he hears again the merry laugh
that goes so singularly with that face
upon which sorrow has sets seal
II wonder if that woman is sincere. y"
he thinks; "shc surely appears so"
Then he goes back to the Pelican and
makes three errors on one page of his
neat log-book.
Meanwhile Miss Brantomc is follow
ing old Juan rs he pottcrs around the
orange trees or mCndS Il weak spot in
the sheep corral. Then she goes in TO
Maneula, whom she makes her friend
for life by asking no end OF questions.
But the thermometer is in the ninctics
and the sun blazing away for dear life.
Existence in Southern California is
growing monotonous. She has II wild
longing to shorten her holiday and fly
back over the deserts to Il lard where
one may hope for cloud and tread on
bit of grass. And the publishers are
clamoring for her next serial, in which
Juan and Manuela are to figure.
"Aunt Suc," says she, after she has
told her of the blonde captain, II must
have the rest of that material, y
Aunt Sue understands this technical
term of her favoritc niece, and she
never denied her any thing in her life.
.But he may not call, and we can not
board his ship, without his leave, us if
we We're piratcs."
ale will call, depend upon it, ans
wers Miss Brantomc. with that emile of
hers. And he does call, dining with
the family and wandering with the dark
girl out under the stars. The moon
comes up and adds to the glorics of the
night. Far away wrinkles the light
house light, like great solemn glow
worm, and they hear the dull roar of
the restless ocean, while on the still
waters of the bay they can see the
whitc-wingcd vessels riding Mt anchor.
A painter once in an excess of zeal
put TO n cruel death an unfortunate
wretch that he might have model who
would satisfactorily represent the
agonics of the dying. So Louise Bran
tome, in the gcntlcst possible way.
makes model of the commander of
the Pelican to bring intoplay expression
and emotions whcrewith to enrich her
romance.
"Do you never long for a homc?" she
asks.
My ship is my home
But real home-a refuge when the
world and your ship are drcary places"
What man does notP" he asks.
But | may never 90 home, only into
port
That is poetry" Captain Neil.
at was an accident. am not poeti-
cal"
40 do not say that. You are, am
sure, the trucst of all poets-thc one
who listens. To appreciate beautiful
thoughts is quite rs rare gift as woav-
ing them in oni's brain. "
at is kind of you to say that, but you
mistake. have not soul above cord
age and sail-cloth,"
They are sitting on the veranda now,
for the dew is almost rain. The air is
heavy with the scent from the beds of
heliotropc and the orangc-trccs. Cap
tain Neil would do well to go back TO
his ship before the fog rises; and there
are mental hazes, too, through which
the sirens send so sweet Il song that the
sound of the fog-bell can not be heard.
Louise picks bunch OF roses and fas-
tens them in her belt.
"You love roses, no doubtPn She says.
"Yes, but roses do no grow on quar-
terdccks, and | know but little more of
them than do of poetry"
"Then | Il going to tell you some
thing that will surprise you. This rose
has yonr name. 1t is the Marechal
Mel
His countenance lights up; she has
one OF those very roses held against her
cheS6 rs she speaks.
"And what is more singular" goes
on this calm dissccter of mems minds,
al know another person who has the
name of rose.
The captain's face grows dark again.
Louise" cries Aunt Sue, ''your
mother will never forgive me if let
you stay out any longcrin the night air"
The captain rises; Miss Brantomc
takes the rose with which she has been
toying and fastens it to his coat, and he
leaves, not knowing as he marches
through the olive orchard with that
slightly-rolling gait of his whether he
treads on earth or air. And she, going
to her room, adds to n partly-wrtten
letter these words: "rhis has been an
evening rich in material for the ro-
nance which is to make us famous.
have been talking with most interest
ing man, master of n vessel. His boots
and his accent might startle you, but as
study he is perfect" Then she seals
the letter and directs it TO Mr.. jacques
Mnot.
The visit to the schooner is to take
place Thursday. Never was there such
polishing of copper and scrubbing of
decks rs takes place in the interim. The
cargo of the Pelican is not finding its
way to the wharf with its usual CELEBRITY.
Captain Mel becomes blind to the lazi-