Middlebury register. (Middlebury, Vt.) 1886-1937, 1890-03-14
LOST ON SANDY HOOK.
a WEIRD NIGHT TRAMP THROUGH
CEDARS AND SAND DUNES. !

Wandering Among the Ribs of Lost ships.
What the Waves Seem to say-The Shat
tered Tombstones-safe at Last in the Ho-
tel McGinty.
Lost on Sandy Hookl Portentous
enough is the word lost" at any time,
but coupled as it is in this instance with
a waste of sand dunes bristling with
the bones of lost ships and dead men, it
becomes doubly portentous. Yes, was
lost on Sandy Hook, and in the darkest
night that ever threw pail over lonely
sea and shore. How came to be a wan
dering wayfarer on that lonely, aye, God
forsaken strand matters but little. Suf-
flee it to say that late one afternoon had
paid visit to little grave far up on the
hillside of the eternal Highlands of Nave.
sink.
LOOKING BACKWARD.
AS stood beside that tiny tomb recol
lections of another sainted one came
over me, and so real did her presence
seem that with her hand in mine we two
Ill ble oplIlJ uOWH Jlle
old drives and by the old alder trees,
which she once knew so well, and on by
the twin lighthouses and across the dark,
flowing river to the sea beach. where we
two had so often strolled before. And
she led me thus unheeding my where
abouts, only needing her presence and
the same old love light in her eyes. Twas
thus she led me down these old paths,
her memory floating back out of the past
like half forgotten song, until sudden
ly the deep diapason of the surf swelled
up and swallowed the song of our loves.
That sweet voice was lost. l called for
| her in vain. The waves roared a mock
ing reply that sounded like "Nevermore.
In vain did l plead for that sweet
voice. Again did the great organ of the
surf respond remorselessly in a grand
chorus, "Nevermore." In inane rage I
flung myself on the strand. Then cooler
moments interviewed, and there on the
wet sand, with none but God and the
ripping river to hear, l poured out my
soul in sorrow. And the starlight fell
like benediction on my upturned face,
and the running river sang dirge.
Had l been laboring under spell?
Had she really returned to me, or was it
all dream? What it was | know not.
Only this, | was lost on Sandy Hook.
Alone t! are on a desert shore, alone with
my conscience. | remember | thought
of my situation as likened to that of
Robinson Crusoe, but my night was
darker than any of Juan Fernandez, rem
dered doubly dark by the black wings of
remorse that tapped about me. Dark as
divine wrath was the blackness about,
unillumined by star or lights far out at
sea, for the dwarf cedars MD both from
me. Yet now and then there came float.
ing in over the waters the sound of sig.
nal bells at sea, ringing out warnings tc
the wanderers of the deep.
At last, worn out with exertion, half
tumbled upon what had been the spar OF
lost ship. Placing my hand for sup
port upon the sand at my side, it touched
something. The knowing nerves of the
hand telegraphed to my fevered brain
what that something was. 1t was 6
human skull, the melancholy memoria
of mans mortality. Aghast, | threw il
from me. The spot seemed accused
and rose and tottered on, human vii
prevailing over the weakness of the body
AS | mounted big dune a cry of joy is
sued from my lips. There, like diamond.
set in the e1on field of night, CLEANED
the twin lights, and beneath them in c
sable bank lay the everlasting Highlands
Endeavoring to keep those jewels ever il
my view, | wandered on, but they, alas
were again lost behind the veil of cedal
and sand.
LOST 200 YEARS AGO.
RecollectiOns of the wrecks of othel
years came over me, and ! thought
wandered through vast charnel house
Again fell and my hand struck wha
| seemed like the base of shattered
tombstone. Although / had never be
fore visited that spot | knew that thu
shattered marble was erected in mem
DRY of "A British frigate's boats crew
which, led by young no5leman, wa
lost in the snow in the same place almos
200 years before. With sympathetic fin
gers traced out the craven words neal
the base of the stone, Erected by hi
mother Lady - and there the legenC
ended. But right roundly in that darl
and lonesome spot cursed the vandal
who had desecrated that cemetery anC
destroyed that everlasting tribute of ;
fond mothers love. Somewhere near bN
| knew from history lay the bones o