The Lambertville record., 1889-09-18
yaur.sII hsI0ra You easg aaohor agaIn.

-
SAY, 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-
tivity.
Beautiful Syriai The promise of her
girlhood was being developed into glori-
GUS maturity. But she might have been
a pearl, as they called her, in her icy
seclusiveness, for all the human feeling
she seemed to possess.
Every day the Black Dragon was
looked for, and every evening brought
disappointment.
At last, one golden afternoon, when
sunlight streamed in yellow bars over the
sanded floor, and Syria had looped back
the curtains with clusters of scarlet ber-
ries and sprays of wintergreen, and
ranged the golden pippins in long rows
on the mantle, in the very midst of their
expectation the tidings came, brought
from the city by fisherman. The Black
Dragon, homeward bound, took fire Just
under the line, and every soul on board
perished, Harry would never come
homel
A silence more solemn than death fell
ON the old farm house. Aunt Sarah sunk
beneath the blow into feeble second child
hood, and the old captain grew morose
and sullen. Syria alone bore the blow
bravely. Fair and white as pearl, she
moved about with sealed lips and solemn
eyes, taking all the heavy household
cares upon her slender shoulders and
working from dawn till twilight. Then,
| when the hush of night brooded over the
| great sea, she took her sole recreation
Gliding down to the beach, she would
Chamber to the top of the rough bowlder
and sit for an hour looking out to sea,
with her poor eyes full of piteous expec-
tation.
mo-" she said, II won't forget; he'll
come by and by; my little charm will
bring him-I will wait"
At last there came an afternoon black
with portentous omens.
81 never see sich signs as these at the
Headlands only once afore, and then we
had a gale that just shivered things
and we are going to have it again.
The old fisherman was correct; about
sunset it came, with laundering crack
and crash, as if the very heavens were
being rolled together.
1.-The guns have ceased, he said, put
ting on his oilcloth coat 1.-THE poor
ships gone. am going down to the
shore to see what the boys are doing"
"a bad night, cap'n," one Of them said
as he and Syria approached.
Poor luck, captain--poor luck! We
tried putting out the boats, but il was no
go-tbe gale was too hard. We picked
| up only that chap, and he's done for"
Syria's eyes followed his pointing fin
ger, and beheld stretched upon the wet
sand the flgure Of man.
Hes not dead. fatherp' she cried.
There's warmth here--indeed there isl
Let's take him up to the house and try
to save him."
"Do as she bids you," said the old
man; and the men obeyed.
"'Tis he-your son Harry Don't you
see? viii you waste your precious timer
Let us work and save himp. she said
| And they did BY and by a faint
warmth diffused itself over his body; a
dim red shone in his pale cheeks, and ho
mnrmured, just above his breath:
"Syriai Syria! ! am comingl7
Syria heard him, and without word
or a sigh dropped in dead faint at his
very feet
| In few days he entirely recovered
and related his adventures. He had
made his fortune and was coming home
to stay, and no one was more happy than
Syria.
But three weeks after there was a
grand wedding at the old farmhouse.
Capt. Harry Melville received for his
bride Syria, the founding, the beautiful
"belle of the ocean" and their cup was
full. Waverley Magazine.