Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1890-09-20

occupation.
"Oh, see," and she laughed, and q
wonderfully musical laugh it was too
"You are shocked at Johns being 6
wrecker Why. you wreck railroads il
| the NorLn, uon Ho'', -,Ir.s - in'.Iiiles
banks, I've heard? john doesn't really
wreck ships. He merely helps to strip
them when they are wrecked,
felt relieved tut DIRE memories of
| childhood tales, of false lights "A. d muir
| dered crews, would come in my mind.
| "And who is John?" / asked
"Ah! John is the dearest, sweetest,
noblest fellow living-that's John. Pm
sure you'd like him."
l tried again: Were you born on
Watlings?"
"Oh, dear, no. l was wrecked there.
| Wasn't it romantic to be wrecked on the
island Columbus first landed on ?"
l mildly remarked that l had been
| taught Columbus first landed on San
Salvador or Cat Island.
"Oh, my, no. You're all wrong. It's
been proved he first came ashore at Wat
lings. Why, often, on fine mornings,
get John to drive me over to the south
eastern point of the island, where it is
thought he came ashore. There's the
loveliest white beach there, and the
before you as you look eastward.
| make John go away, for John isn't TO-
mantle, you know, and then sit down
and close my eyes and think intently for
moment. Then open them and l see
the queer old fashioned ships with their
worn sails. their high sterns, and the
royal banners waving, tossing at anchor
beyond the reef; | see the line of boats
with flashing oars advancing; | see the
dusky Indian forms standing at the edge
of the wood, and just above where the
surf breaks on the beach | see the old
mariner kneel under the banner of
Spain, his sword uplifted, and his ewes
raised to heaven. Oh, it's a glorious
picture, and 1 never tire of calling it
forth. Life on Watlings, you see, has
its compensations.
AS the woman told this story, she un-
consciously acted it out, rose from her
chair, and with flaming eyes and cheeks,
a new and fair Columbus led fancied
band. l had grown deeply interested
and determined to know her history.
Tell me about yourself" said, land
how it comes that you, with your evil
dent education and accomplishments,
choose to live on place so remote
and lonely as Watlings Island.
She blushed little, was silent mo-
ment, and then in low voice said:
Ill o1l
not long story. see I've given you a
wrong impression, for, indeed, although
it is lonely at times, Pm really very
happy and l wouldn't change places
with any woman. l am an English
woman, and " as born near London. My
father was civil engineer in good Cir
cumstances. and with twin sister | had
every possible advantage of education.
My mother died when l was about 10,
and as we had no near relatives we were
much with our father. We were near
enough to London to run in at evening
to the theaters and the opera; we had a
pleasant society of our own; we read
much, sang and played a good deal, and
rode continually Ten years ago last
autumn my father met with a sudden
business reverse. He was offered re-
munerative post in California and de-
cided to go there. A ship belonging to
friend of his was just about to sail for
the Isthmus; we were offered passage on
her at low rate, and in three days time
found ourselves at sea. l needn't tell
you of the voyage. 1t was all new and
strange to us, of course, and we two
girls were the pets of the ship. I saw
with relief my father, who had broken
much under his losses, improve in health
and spirits, and as we neared the tropics
the glowing sunset skies were emblem
attic of our hopes of life in the new
world. We had been out some 80 days
when one afternoon, as the sun set in a
dark bank of clouds and the air was
close and sultry, noticed the captain
looked anxious and heard him say some
thing about the Bahama reefs to the
mate That night hurricane struck us
and for hours we were in what seemed
dull gray cavern of water and sky.
The ship plunged madly before the gale,
and with our father we sat in the cabin,
clasped in each others arms. The morn
| ing broke scarce less dark than the night.
| Suddenly the wind shifted and the ship
righted and seemed to stand quivering,
| like an over driven horse. A few min
utes passed when, with wild roar, the
| storm was on us once more, and we
drove madly in another direction. There
was sudden crash, my father sprang,
half dragging us toward the companion
way; l saw huge wall of water rolling
down upon us-it fell and all grew dark.
| l remember a sensation of sinking, OF
being whirled around, a dull booming
noise in my ears, and l opened my eyes
| to find myself lying on sandy beach,
two rough men looking down on me,
while third and younger one, kneeling
beside me, was chatting my hands.
Frightened, but too weak to scream,
feebly said Where am IT On Wat.
lings Island, Miss said the young man.
Yes said one of the older men. and a
narrow squeak you had for it, too. If
hadn't thought it was mighty queer sea-
weed washing in over yon reef, you
wouldn't have been talking now.
where's my father? said With all
the rest was the reply. Hush! said
the younger man, see how weak she is!
Then tainted.
II woke to find myself on a rude cot
in small cottage, tended by negress
who only spoke a Spanish patoi'. The
wreckers, for such they were, hal car
ried me there. The sun was shining
brightly and the storm was over. Days
passed, and when l could go about