The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1886-08-14

| DOuuIe H0lIOW CuTIS anu HIS Dlu6 eyes, anu
his sunny smile, what girl could have re-
sisted lima He brought his brightness into
| my life and it seemed to go out like the
| sun beneath a cloud the day he sailed in
the Rowena, bound for China and the East
Indies, from the Tyne.
All onr most energetic and enterprising
young men become sailors, if they do not
feel satisfied to be fishermen as their
| fathers before them. 1t never seems to
enter int, any of their heads that there are
| other means of livelihood than these two
| callings. They can not tear themselves
away from the sea altogether, however
they may abuse it. They inhale its salt
breeze with their earliest breaths, it's foam
and spray beat on them until it becomes
part OF them, as it were, and they are as
much creatures of the waves as the fishes
| that swim beneath or the gulls that float
above. So it was that when Willie grew
discontinued with his earnings as fisher
| man he went to sea to make more money,
in the hope of wedding me the sooner.
Il was not strong enough for fisher
mans wife, ~ he said, land he hoped to be
able to keep me like a lady!" Just as if l
cared
Though was small was not delicate,
and could and indeed did, carry the creel
as well as the best of them. For my mother
married again, and when she died there
were more little mouths to fill, and no one
! but me to do it; for their father was a lazy,
drunken good-fornothing, who fell over
the cliff one night when he was rolling
home from the "Old Ship Inn," and did no
good after. lucky for them and for me,
though it sounds queer to say it, he did not
live long to be a burden; but we had some
hard times, now and then, when the
weather was rough and there was no fish
to sell. Only for the BARNS | would have
been housemaid at the vicarage, for which
Miss Ashford had had me trained before
mother died but could earn more money
fho aud aft he
little ones at the same time.
| The men favored me in the matter of
/ fish, because they thought had a stiffish
hill to climb, and will say that nobody
was kinder than Edam Carr. l believe he
was really fond of me, and | often re-
preached myself that l could not help
shrinking from him. But l was not alone
in that dread. They called him "Black
| Edam," for nickname, because he looked
SO grim and sour. None of the men ex-
changed greetings with him when he
stalked alone past their friendly groups;
nor did any of the girls laugh and joke with
him. With one consent he was left alone.
Well you see, here was bond of union
between us in his eyes. They looked on
me as on one doomed, and on him as one
unlucky, or unhappy, which means the
same to them. TITS no use fghtin' fate,
Elsien' he would say, looking down at me
with his great gloomy eyes; 1--WE were
made for one another we two"
But used to shake my head and run
away, though l dared no: offend him by
contradicting him otherwise He got
| grimmer and backer as time went on, and
| did not forget my Willie, as perhaps
Edam hoped should.
The weather was uncertain that autumn,
and there was little dependence on the fish.
Some days the boats were not off at all :;
some days they had no fish when they
landed | got work whore | could, but
] flraa t1,ca L,,. kz~.11r l. . -
satisfying, and often went to bed hungry
and cold along with them.
One afternoon | was wandering rather
disconsolately on tho beach, feeling low
and hopeless, wishing for Willie and better
days, when Edam, who was busy in his
boat called to me as passed by.
ELSIE, como here and tell me what you
| think o. my boat?" he cried in more
CHEEKY voice than usual, and, glad to be
| good-natured when could, l stopped and
admired the fine new boat he had just
bought with the money an uncle had left
| him.
''But you've got no name for her." I
said at last; what are you going to call
herr"
THAT depends on you,'' he replied. look
ing up quickly; ''if We don't object,
would name her The Bonnie Elsie.'n
That would never do, thought in min
ute; it would be all over the place at once
| that Edam Carr had called his boat after
Elsie Wilson, and that she was loft with
the old love and on with the new"
"You mustn't do that" l demurred as
gently as l could; theirs prettier names
and lassies, too, for that matter, in the
place"
His face changed for the worse in a mo-
ment, and an angry light blazed in his
eyes
Pm not to hev yer name, then, for-bye
yerselfn
at wouldn't do Edam; folks would talk
and-and Willie might be vexed." l went
on hesitatingly. What a coward was to
be sure! 1t was with the greatest difficulty
in the world managed to bring out my
real objection. And yet | was so proud
of being Willies sweetheart.
| He's not yer man yet, that he should
mind" Edam replied sulkily, and then
under his breath: MAY be he never will
be, either"
Iheard the end of the sentence, low as it
was muttored.
| SAN what's to hinder if we're both of
one mind about ita' | said sharply, losing
my temper bit at his obstinacy.
who knowsl He might get a wife
where he's gone, and he might never come
back at all"
''D'ye want to quarrel vii me, Edamm
"No, no, Elsie, we Wilma quarrel" he
said at once. Pm bit queer in the tenn
per, but l wouldn't like to vex you"
'Im goin' to try the new boat; will we
venture out VII me, lassie!" he went on
I quietly after a moment.
/ did not know what to say. 1t would
not be wise to offend him more than had
been unlucky enough to do already. There
was no harm in sailing out mile or so,
providing he would promise to bring me
back again. But could | trust him! His
mother, old Mamie Carr, had come up
while we were speaking and she took part
| with him.
'It's not much to ask we, Elsie, and it'll
please him ever sol He's gey-queer to do
we just now lassie,' she said aside to me.
IF we can humor him a bit ye might for
| mas sakel"
She was a kind neghbor, and often the
BARNS got dinner from her when | was
away, so l did not caro- to refuse her. If
she saw no harm in it, who else would dare
| to talk!
| Still hesitated
"D'ye think it's safel The sea has been
CALM off and on all the day. Listenl"
And in the hush which so often precedes
a gale we could distinctly hear that strange
moaning, about which we always say:
| 1.-THE sea is calling"
| Edam threw quick glance along the
| horizon.
"It'll blow hard afore the morn, but
| there's time enough to be out and in again
| for all that"
There was something in the tone which
| made me doubtful, but / did not want to
| seem a coward: SO before long we were ont