Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-12-05

gone to the city of Hull, and there was not living soul about the place, ex- cept little maid-servant and Agnes herself, nor was help of any kind near enough at hand to be of use in this pressing emergency.
 Fortunately, however, Agnes Gray don was no millx-and-water miss. From earliest childhood she had been care fully trained in out-of-door exercises, and was as much at home on the water as in her saddle, and now she deter mined to save the imperiled children if it lay within human power.
 Her own light, serviceable sxiff was in the boat house at the foot of the bank; and, catching up a couple of woolen shawls, she ran down, seated herself in it and waited for the, now, too tardy tide to set it afoat. A moments consideration will enable the reader to understand the fearful nature and imminence of the danger.
 Agnes must, perforce, remain help less and inactive until the tide should cover the whole expanse between the bank and the island with a depth of water everywhere sufficient to carry her boat. She would then have to row full mile; and the question was whether she could make the distance be- fore the rising flood should inundate the rocks deeply enough to sweep the | children away?
 The problem would soon be solved for now the first curling wavelets hissed along the sand under the boats bottom and in few moments the light craft was free, then, in brief space, khn1- e., kI,n l. the 1.-the young rower shot away away! away! in the solitary race, life the prize, and the forfeit, death! The curved spruce blades flashed and quivered in her strong little hands, and scattered sparkling drops of spray, as with rapid, telling strokes she sent the beautifully modelled skiff along it's watery course.
 With uncovered head-for she had never once thought of her hat-and her lovely unbound hair falling in bright cloud over her shoulders, she bent to her work with the strength and skill
 born of long experience; and, as she now and again looked around, tried to
 believe that she should be in time, al- though she trembled to think how frightfully great was the risk of failure. | The matter might have been a cempar- | atively easy one had the course been
 over slack water, but now the surging
 tide was setting strongly up stream,
 producing a heavy current, and Agnes
 was obliged to pull almost entirely
 with her left oar in order to avoid be-
 ing carried far above the goal. Little
 more than one-half the distance was
 covered when she saw, to her dismay,
 that only the highest point of the rock
 was visible!
 In another minute, this, too, disap
 peared, and the girls-as she now knew
 them to be-clinging fast to each other,
 stood, apparently, on the surface of the
 water. It was barely possible that they
 might so stand until it should react
 their waists. If not, they were lost be
 yond hope. But now the brave young
 oarswoman put forth every ounce of re
 served power, and her light craft spec along almost as swiftly as a racing
 shell, while she cried aloud in hel
 agony, "Oh, merciful God! sustain me
 Give me strength to save these inno
 centsl'' Now she is within three hun
 dred yards, and, glancing once more ove1 her shoulder, to make sure of her course can see the faces of the children, ant gracious Heaven! recognizes them as l Ethel and Pauline Howard
 At this utterly unlocked for discov cry, Agnes Graydon neither screamed nor tainted, although her heart seemed } to stand still with horror as 8 flash O
 lightning-ike thought revealed. to he1
 the awful consequences of failing in thu rescue.
 The little girls stood firmly as yet ) though the salt waves just touche, , their short walking frocks. They wer closely clasped together, but did not ut ter a single cry, for, from the first no ment the boat was launched, they o course knew who was it's occupant, an, their touching faith in their believe, : Agnes kept them from despair.
 Now the distance is reduced to on t hundred and fifty yards; but, oh, hoy l fast the tapping waters rise! The cu1 7 re1t sweeps against the girls broa 3 skirts and they slightly waver; bu ] Agnes, whose nerves are now steady a F steel, shouts in a cheery tone: "Ethel , lift Pauline in your arms, stand fast f and brace against the current. I shal s easily save you"
 g The 5,.- girl at once obeyed, an r the W thus concentrated gay e greater ITS of resistance. The ligh :, slkiff almost flew now, and was within r four or five lengths, when at last Ethe e called out:
 s ''Oh, Miss Graydon, I am totte1 ing; the water is up to my waist; F. must fall.'
 3 Don't give way, my darling. Yo are quite safe," Agnes replied, and tn !, boat shot alongside at the very instar @ the. children were swept from their fee 6 against its gunwale, and the next the
 were sobbing on the bosom of their res @ cuer, who, almost speeches. from ez |, cess of joy, could only murmur: ''Ol $ thank God! thank God!' as she co' r. cred them with kisses. Then, wral Is pirg each of the shivering children 1T one of the warm shawls, she turne l. the bow of the boat up stream anc o- aided by the tide, very soon reache