The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1891-04-08
A TREASURE OF THE GALLEoN.
BY BRET HARTE.

Her fathers house was nearly a
mile from the sea, but the breath of
it was always strong at the windows
and doors in the early morning, and
when there were heavy 'ssouthwes-
ters' blowing in the winter the wind
brought the sharp sting of sand to
her cheel. and the rain and odd taste
of salt TO her lips. On this particu-
lar December afternoon, however,
as she stood in the doorway, it seem
cd to be singularly calm; the south
west trades blew but family, and
scarcely broke the crests of the long
Pacific swell that lazily rose and fell
on the beach, which only slanting
copse of scrub oak and willow hid
from the cottage. Nevertheless she
knew this league long strip of shin
ins sand much better, it is to be
feared than the scanty flower gard
en-, arid and stunted by it's contigui-
ty. 1t has been her playground
when she first came there, moth
erless girl of twelve, and she had
helped her father gather its scatter
ed driftwood-as the fortune or the
Millers were not above accepting
these occasional offerings of their
lordly neighbor.
al wouldn't go far to- day, Jenny" ("
said her father, as the girl stopped
from the threshold. al don't trust
the weather at this season, and be-
sides you had better be looking over
your wardrobe for the party at Sol
Catlin's."
"Why, father you don't intend to
go to that man's2" said the girl,
looking up with a troubled face.
Lawyer Miller" as he was called
by his few neighbors, looked slight
ly embarrassed. "Wby not?" he
asked in family irritated tone.
"Why not? Why, father, you
know how vulgar and conceited he
is-how everybody here truckles to
him2"
"Yery likely; he's very superior
man of his kinda kind they under
stand here, too-a great trapper,
hunter and pioneer.
"But L don't believe in his trap
ping, hunting and pioneering" said
the girl, petulantly. 81 believe it's
all as hollow and boisterious as him
self. It's no more reaf, or what one
thinks it should be, than he is.
And he dares to patronize you
you, father, an educated man and
gentleman
"Say rather an unsuccessful law
yer who was fool enough to believe
that buying ranch could make him
farmer" returned her father, but
half jestingly. 81 only wish 1 was
as good at my trade as he is"
"But you never liked him-you
always used to ignore him; you We
changed father" She stopped
suddenly, for her recollection of her
fathers quiet superiority and easy
independence when he first came
there was in such marked contrast
to his late carelessncss and weak
adhesion to tho rude life around
them, that she felt pang of vague
degradation which she feared her
voice might betray.
"Very WE'LL Do as you like" he
replied, with affected carelessness,
"onIy l thought as we cannot afford
to go elsewhere, it might be well for
US to take what we could find here"
"Take what We could find here!"
1t was so unlike him-he, who had
always been SO strong in preserving
their little domestic refinements in
their rude surroundings that their
poverty had never seemed mean,
nor their seclusion ignoble. She
turned away to conceal her indig-
nant color. She could share the
household work with squaw and
Chinaman, she could fetch wood and
water, Catlin had patronizingly seen
her doing it but to dance to his vuI-
gar piping-neverl
She was not long in reaching the
sans that now lay before her, warm,
sweetscented from short beach grass,
stretching to dim, rocky promon-
tory, and absolutely untrod by any
foot but her own. 1t was the vir-
ginity of seclusion that had been
charming TO her girlhood; fenced in
between the impenterable hedge of
scrub oaks on the one side, and the
lifting green walls of breakers
tipped with chevaux de fris of white
foam on the other, she had known a
perfect security for her sports and
fancies, that had captivated her town
bred instincts and native fastidions-