The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1889-09-28
AFTER MANY YEARS.


into a song-a rude, nautical thing; but
the old time air was sweet, and the voice
that sung 1t wondrous clear and reso-
nant, ringing out like a trumpet peal
above the dash Of the waves, yet sweet
and tender as the note of a wood thrush.
| Over and over again he trilled the quaint
ditty, until every echo caught up the
strain, and the whole place ana the
great sea itself seemed thrilling with
melody.
Just then the door of the old farm
house swung open, letting out broad
flood of lamp light and slender girls
! figure; and an instant later this self
same figure, quaint and prim in its gown
1 of gray, stood just behind the singer.
he sang on, utterly unconscious.
"Harryp
He was near losing his balance, and
his song came to sharp and sudden
end, leaving the closing night in silence.
The girl broke into merry laugh.
"Well, Syrian he asked.
"Nothing-only supper is waiting, and
Aunt Sarah is growing impatient" she
replied.
/
out of his eyes, leaving them gloomy
and distracted. 81 do not want any
supper; I've made up my mind, Syria"
She gave quick, gasping breath, but
face and voice were quiet.
"Well, Harry"
"I'm goingp
"When?'
cat daybreak."
Her very lips paled, and her slender
fingers shook and trembled, but her eyes
remained true and steady.
"Well," she answered slowly, "God
bless you, Harry!'
The boy stood silent, his eyes fixed on
the far coast line, where the red sunset
fires were slowly burning out, his
thoughts busy with the past. One night,
especially, stood out clear and vivid-a
wild, stormy night, when the sky was
like ink, and the mad sea thundered un-
til the old farmhouse shook to its very
center. They were down on the strand,
his father and half dozen fishermen
himself, sturdy lad, following like a
young spaniel. Hard work lay before
the men. A stately vessel lay out on
the bar, and the strong gale was driving
her to pieces.
Boat after boat started out as her
booming guns begged for assistance, but
each one was swamped or driven back.
1t was mere desperation, an old sailor
said; no boat could stand such gale
they could do nothing. His father
chuckled to himself, and bringing out q
sturdy craft of his own, placed himself
at its helm, and went out into the dark.
ness. never to return again, the men
averred; but Harry did not believe it.
He had never known his father to fail,
and he sat down amid the crash and
roar to watch and wait And not vain
ly, for by and by the sturdy boat beat
its way back, bringing only one trophy
little sea waif that the old man had
picked up-a tiny girl child with flaxen
hair and blue eyes.
The rough men bore her up to the old
farm house, Harry trotting on behind
and before day dawn the booming guns
were silent, for the stately vessel, after
a brave fight, had gone down beneath
the hungry waves.
Capt. Melville and his wife could dc
|
little storm gift and bring her up as
their own child. So they called her Sy.
ria, after all; and as she merged into
maidenhood the lads called her the
"belle of the ocean"
She and Harry had been sister and
brother for ten years, eating their frugal
supper from the same porringer, and
sharing the same bed in childhood.
eyes, the Black Dragon sails at day.
break and Pm going in her, Syria," he
said, his eyes solemn and tender and his
voice tremulous.
The girl stood silent moment; then
putting the question with forced laugh
"How far are you going, Harry" she
said. "When do you expect to come
backF'
1.-The Black Dragons bound around
the world, | believe" he responded, "and
as to coming blackwell, it will be years
before / see the Headlands again, ]
guess"
Then a sudden light blazed up in his
eyes.
"Shall you miss me when I'm gone, dc
you think, Syria2" he asked.
A swift rose color bloomed in her fair
cheeks, and her eyes overfowed with
tears.
"Harry," she said, her voice sweet
with unspoken tenderness, "rm super
stitious, you know. want you to take
this with you" unclasping a slender gold
chain from her neck. 81 always had a
fancy that this little trinket possessed
some hidden charm. Put it on your
neck, please, and if you ever are left to
the mercy of the wild waves, it will save
you, may be, as it did me-"
At moonrise everything was ready,
and with his knapsack strapped across
his shoulders, Harry stood in the door
way.
"Good-by, fatherl" his voice husky.
"Good-by, Harry. Make a man O.
yourself before you cast anchor again."
Gay, ay, fatherl"
Then he broke down, and pulling his
cap over his eyes strobe away without
another word.
One after another the seasons followed
each other. The gray moss on the old
farmhouse roof grew larger and thicker
the old captain was getting rheumatic
and dozed away the afternoons in the
chimney corner. and Aunt Sarah was
losing something of her old bustling ac-
tsits