The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1892-04-16
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A SEASIDE PICTURE.

1t was the afternoon of Faster Sunday;
such day, calm and glorious, as best befts
that regal festival. The unclouded radiance
of the sun lay warm upon the smooth, shin
ing beach, and tempered its fresh sea
breeze to mildness. There was rich, mu-
nifcent overfowing of vitalizing light and
heat; the palpitations of quicking life
seemed to make themselves felt in the very
air that pressed softly, like invisible fingers,
upon the cheek. There was the odor of
the brown loosening soil in the fields and
woods not far away, mingling with the rich
salt flavor of the sea-air.
There was stiffness over all the scene; not
the hush of solitude and death, but a holy
adoring silence, with which the profound
voice Of the ocean blended without disturb
ing it. 1t seemed as though the Spirit
that brooded over the depths of Chaos had
spread his warm wings above the mighty
sea and the teeming land, and as if Nature,
solemnly and sweetly smiling, said, "Be
hold the handmade of the Lord p and lay
in rapt ecstacy, breathlessly waiting until,
infused with fresh life, her ancient heavens
and earth should be purified, transmitted
into the new. No "voice of bird or living
creature" was in all the air; no sound save
the great fundamental tone of the ocean
and the timid soul-like whisperings of the
little foam wreaths that the waves pushed
up along the shore, as they caressed for a
moment the worn pebbles, and then stole
away and vanished in the undistinguished
mass of waters.
The beach lay in great curve, closed at
each end by headland. At the northern
extremity the land made steep descent
seaward, but by a gentle declivity on the
Iandward side afforded easy access to asmall
stone chapel, whose gray weather-beaten
walls and little belfry stood out sharp and
clear against the blue sky. Southwark the
headland was bold and high, but when the
tide was down, as on this Easter afternoon,
there was a safe path between it and the
ocean.
All the great curve was solitary until a
mother with her three children came down
to the beach. The eldest child was boy
of nine; of the two girls one was a mother
ly little woman of seven, the other merry
restless creature some three years younger.
For while, the children roved along the
waters edge, picking up fairy shells; deli
cate, crimped white ones, thin as an egg
shell; translucent hollows of pearl, and
clear pebbles; their handfuls of sea-trea-
sures looked as if the foam and the water
drops had crystalized into lovely forms
for the sake of lingering on the warm
shore.
Meanwhile the mother sat and gazed
away upon sail in the ofing. She wore
no mourning dress, only the simple Sun
dry garb of a fsherman's wife, but there
was true mourning in her sad eyes with
there wistful, yet patient expression. 1t
was no sickly, repining sorrow; for as surely
as her clear, though brown, complexion
and her 1.-THE upright figure betokened a
vigorous constitution, so certainly did her
firm kindly mouth, and a certain iRdefn-
able something in her whole "meek and
quiet" department, hespeak a mind free
from morbid fancies, soul calmly poised
ON some sure foundation, some secret source
of repose and strength. 1t might have made
you wish to learn her history; perhaps to
linger near and see what future should
come to such woman. Could you have
watched her as she sat musing upon the
sand, her hands lightly crossed upon her
knee and holding certain worn-looking
little book, in which her finger kept a
particular place.
By-and-by the children threw down
their shells and bits of seaweed and cluster
ed around her, little eager Nan entreating
"P'ease tell me a tory, mamma p
"a story, pet? well, yes-I will tell
you the story of the day,-of the first
Easter that eyer was. Rob and Maggie
are old enough to read it for themselves,
but we will let them listen, won't we,
little Nan p
A hearty kiss aud embrace, impartially
hestowed upon her brother and sister, and
enthusiastically returned, was the loving
little mites welcome to full participation
in her pleasure, after which she nestled as
close as possible to her mothers side, and
possessed herself of one of those labor
roughened hands,
So the mother talked to them of the
first Easter; of the nights of sorrow and
weeping that preceded it; of the Friday
of agony and the Saturday of desp air;
Of the sealed tomb in the lonely garden,
watched by heather soldiers; of the strong
angel that came down in the gloomy morn
before day and rolled away the great stone
with a touch of his soft hand, and shone so
unearthly bright that the sentinels sank to
the ground like frightened children; Of the
gentle angel in the white robe, that COM
forted the poor, weeping, perplexed women
who had come bearing precious spices in
their hands, and more precious love aud
sorrow in their hearts, by telling them,
ale is risen p and, last of all, how He
Himself appeared to one of those women
and turned her tears into smiles and sent
her 10 serve Him once more by bearing
tender messages TO His friends,
The children listened eagerly, drinking
In every word-for the mother told the
story simply indeed, but as if she had
seen it all. After she bad ceased they sat
thinking over il amid that great, sweet
silence. Rob aud Maggie had listened as
if it had been as new to them as to Mamie
That restless being was quiet, too, for
very few minutes Ia long while for her
Then she began stirring up the sand with
her tiny feet; and presently, as fthe cur
rent of her thoughts had entirely changed,
,sat ,,arhans with some snhtla eonnacfian