The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1888-07-29
AT THE SEASIDE.
Resorts Where Happy Hoosiers Dream the
Summer Hours A~ay

summer Hours Away.
Correspondence Of the Indianapolis Journa,.
MOVES BEACH. r. l., July 25.-If I could give
you just one Whit of this delicious Noyes
Beach air it would strengthen lungs, head and
heart for the summer contest with the rays Of
.'Old Sol"
This projecting nook Is not we'll enough known
to draw the butterfly population of Block
island, which is just in view at the south of US,
or Of Watch Hill, six miles by the beach road
towards the setting sun. Our password is mo
style" and rigidly do we keep the stern
law irretrievably passed before my advent
into their midst. by this coterie Of ~literati. who
find the source Of their river of success in the
pure air, salt water and general breeziness of
this spot. When a man called Noyes had the
good taste to select this stretch of beach and
the surrounding land for his home.
an acre could be purchased for q
bushel of potatoes. Here spraug up a numer-
Gus progeny of the masculine gender, among
whom the cheaply accumulated acres were d.
vided. giving each son a fine
farm. Unhappily. each proved more
improvident than the next; consequently before
many years passed. all was mortgaged and I'm
oHy sAO ORA ~ q q OCou-
tiful Young daughter in possession of the old
homestead-but little besides.
Love was young and romantic in those days,
and his master, Fate, caused the cherub god. in
n fanclful mood, TO twine the maiden's line of
life with that OF q young Indian brave-who
eventually was forced TO . medieval plan Of
action, for he tore her from the fathers arms
and by the friendly moons light (this
neck Of land is a favorite with the man
in tho moon, for his smile and glance
of welcome to us are surprisingly lovely, rowed
across TO Block island, where he reconciled his
love to a future with q mighty brave. No need
to tell OF the fathers sorrow, for It's a "twice
told tale" But when ha was lust away a.
our friend, the Hoosier poet. expresses what
follows our final breath, even the old home Snd
freside passed into other hands. Now the
quaint wooden structure, with Its one-hundred-
and-hfty-year old beams, square open fire places,
(which We desecrate on rainy DAYS by hang
ing the crane. on which soon boils the most
delightful tafy candy high msntel shelf. many
romantic associations, but. alas! no spooks have
fallen into the good hands of Mr.. John Taylor,
an eminent Brooklyn lawyer and ex-city coun-
sci. who. with his family and friends, makes
this HAPPY hunting ground" ito u.s. ring with
college songs, much talk and laughter.
Nearer the great bed where Father Neptune
sleeps peacefully tonight. guarded by the bright
moon beams $50 many Liliputiaus watching over
the giant chamber of this stormy Gulliverl one
can see three women of interest. on account of
good work done and many possibilities
for the future. My bright particular star in
this triangular constellation is Mrs. NJ. E. Ames
(EleGnor Kirk. who for years has proved her
ability as newspaper correspondent. story writer,
critic and poet. Fresh from publication has
come to me . most useful little volume of hers
Especially SO TO those who eat by what they
write). called Periodicals Which Pay Contrib
utors." As | sit with Eleanor Kirk in her sane
tum, and see the rapidly developed 'fine frenzy"
so on to paper, my admiration for this gray
haired woman with young eyes, who has
been both mother and father to her
children for many struggling years, is ever on
the increase. The constant companion of Mrs.
Ames is Caroline lie Rue, best known as the
compiler of English as She Is Taught" which
production was long attributed to Americas
funny mau. Mark Twain; but in truth he was
natural plumbers Mrs. Butts completes tho
trio. She covers a goodly amount Of space.
materially, by a considerable portlinsss, aud
mentally. by her poetical expression OF her
great love of nature; also by many appeals to the
childish heart of our time by charming stories,
She leads q life OF in wardness, aud although
agreeable to surrounding humanity, her sum-
mer days are spent in solitude. either on the
water (she is quite expert with the oars) or in
down here that the walk to Watch Hill tsix
milesl is mere pastime- In the house with
me is one OF the successful workers Iudiauap-
ellis has sent QUIT mean Mrs. n. L. Moody.
whose novel, The Tragedy of D~ripkwater,"w we
n iva 'Abo ptfuC l. w JuNg
begun to read the Ms. of her latest work with
q great deal of pleasure.
Doubt it as you may, still the fact remains,
for the present at least. men do abound with US
in an amazing proportion for q seaside gather
ing. However, the 'gilded youth" even those
who were 'hazers," are but shades in the eyes
Of the girls when our accumulated romance
strides into view in tho shape Of "My Horace.
my fisherman" as our young femininity call
the rugged, strong. handsome man who lives
in the fishsrmen's hut on the edge Of tho beach,
and spends his days on the 'briny deep" MUIR
derous line in his hand.
The tan of ~twenty-six summers has bropzed
bis face and hands almost to match the brown
eyes, which are both honest and merry. These
eyes speak out to the world much truth and q
beautiful optimism, but behind all other ex-
p%ressions l have caught q glimpse Of the regret
and yearnipg, mate to rugged strength, for
something more, for the boy can neither read
nor write. 10 our little community We have
considered pro and con the wisdom of taking
him from this humble lot and experimenting
with modern methods on him, but good sense
coming to the rescue our decision
Is to le: well enough aloner-not to spoil q good
fisherman for the sake OF making a Door some
thing else. You would realize the Inherent
superstition Of the native Rhode Islander could
you have seen and listened to this boy while he
related to me last night, in perfect seriousness
and with great mystery, the local myth Of the
phantom ship, and of the only time it rose q
startling fame before his bewildered gaze. In
the days when the inhabitants OF Block island
ruled by fire and the sword, the unfortunate
ship OF an enemy ran ashore and
was grounded on the island coast, which we see
So plainly on clear days. The islanders seized
the schooner and burned her, then stood on the
shore in brutal glee, watching her go down, q
burning mass of wood, human flesh. cargo.
cries and curses. Ever since this cruel act the
coast for miles around has been haunted by the
burning ship. and will continue TO be 60 until the
last descendant of the wreckers expires. One
dark night our fisherman. Horace, stood on the
beach phi.osopbizing in his crude way.
when suddenly before him cleaned a brilliant
light very near shore. Thinking it a signal from
a distressed vessel, he used his lungs vociferous-
derine eyes should appear" but An instantaneous
view Of the burning ship. with all on board in
the death throes. Only one moment was the
dread phantom visible, then did it sink from
sight as suddenly as It appeared-into oblivion
this time. the fishermen think, for this appear
aDce was some years ago, and ever since il has
made itself delightfully."- scarce. What amuses
one especially concerning such fancies is
that the narrator is invariably the last and only
one living who was an eyewitness. More
over. it always happened so long ago, leaving one
no chance TO make acquaintance with the
spooks.
Tennis Is popular as ever. books and ham
mocks are numerous, but it is the sea which
holds our abiding love and attention. / lie in
nv hammock with the best of literary intsu-
tions. but my book gradually lowers from my
vision, until it rests with my whole being
in q dolce far piente of con-