The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1892-08-02

mountain side to her home on the banks
Of the rushing brook Alb lived farther
up the valley, and as he trudged home
ward visions of the fame and fortune
that awaited him in the great outside
world fitted before him. Unconsciously
the tall, ungainly boy Strengthened his
STOPPING shoulders and brushed back the
struggling hair that fell over his brow.
'I'll do it," said Alb aloud; ''I'll do it,
an when get FORUM I'll cum back an
marry Melissa an take hern mann with
me.
The raindrops began pattering on the
fallen leaves as Alb entered his mothers
cabin. The expression on the boys face
was not strange to his mother She had
often noticed it since Goss had left the
clearing.
"Still thinkin O goin ter Saint Looey
air YEP she asked as her son entered.
eyes, an I'm goin ter start next Mon
day, mann"
"Wall, eff yer sot on goin 1 reckon
yern CO." was the mothers philosophic
remark, and the Higgins family sat
down to the frugal supper of corn pone
and bacon.
The storm increased in fury, and when
the Higgins family was ready to retire
it was raging with unparalleled fury.
The wind howled with demoniacal glee
and the rain fell in sheets. Alb opened
the door to look out, but binding fash
of lightning frightened him and the
driving rain forced him back.
"Dead run'll be a river fore mornin,"
muttered Alb, as he fastened the door.
Dead run was the stream that flowed
past the Rankin cabin. Years before
the run had overfowed its banks during
heavy storm and had carried death
and destruction before it.
81 hope it won't storm this way fer
long," murmured Alb, as he began to
slowly disrobe. AS he threw his patched
jacket on the floor sullen roar greeted
his ear. The boys face turned pale, for
he knew only too well what that roar
meant. Could he get to Melissa's home
before the raging waters struck it?
There was no time to don the tattered
jacket. Calling to his mother, the boy
disappeared in the darkness. Down the
path toward Melissa's cabin he rushed at
full speed. The overhang1ng branches
swept and scratched his face. The
loose stones cut his bare feet, and the
cruel roots grasped and hindered him in
his flight. On, ON he fed, and love and
fear lent speed to his feet. Down the
mountain side he stumbled and rolled.
No fear Of personal safety entered his
mind. His only thought was for the
safety of the girl he loved.
Would he reach her in time? On he
ran. Another minute would find him
at the cabin, but the food was close be-
hind him. Half staggering, half run
ming, he fell against the cabin door and
it yielded. Melissa and her mother were
huddled near the fireplace, seemingly
paralyzed with terror.
run fev yer ifer' shriel1ed Alb, as he
grasped Melissa in his strong arms and
rushed out of the door.
Too late; the foaming food seized him
and forced him from his feet, but he
never loosened his hold upon the girl.
The muddy water flung him against
trees and rocks as it hurled him down
ward. The sharp rocks cut his hands
and face cruelty, the trees borne along
by the flood beat and bruised his body
and sought to tear Melissa from his
grasp, but in vain.
The boy chung to his precious burden
with the strength of despair. Down the
valley the two were carried by the aw-
full food. On and on they were carried
out into the lowlands: A friendly eddy
carried them to one side, and Alb seized
an oyerhanging limb and dragged him
self and the fainting girl to safety.
Then Alb lapsed into insensibility.
When morning dawned anxious search
ers found Melissa striving to revive her
lover. The cruel flood had dealt hard
with the boy. One arm lay limp and
helpless at his side. One leg had been
crushed between two logs, and another
had cut cruel cash in his head.
Rough but kindly hands made the suf-
ferer more comfortable, and in brief
time he opened his eyes. AS Abs face
fell upon the face of the girl he had
saved, smile lit up his blood stained
face and his uninjured hand crept slow
ly into hers.
81 amt a-goin ter Saint Looey, Meliss,"
ne whispered. Don't cry that air way;
amt hurt much. Isaved yer, didn't 1,
Meliss? Yer'd died eff it hadn't been
fer me-"
The effort was too much and he fell
back speechless. Restoratives were
again administered, and at last the boy
revived sufficiently to say:
'T-l-can't never be hero like Mr..
G-Goss told erbout. I-I-can't go ter
Saint Looey now, an | can't never be a
hero like that Teller ez fell onter them
Ostrian spears. It want material as |
should be hero. Kiss me, Meliss, I'm
goin. Kiss me, NJ
Abithar's head dropped and his eyes
closed. He never spoke again
Poor boy. His name will not go down
in history like that of Arnold Wrinkle
reid. But in his humble way he was as
true hero as the Swiss who opened the
Austrian ranks at the forfeit of his life
and saved his country.-Will NJ. Maupin
in Omaha World-Herald.