Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1893-03-17
THE TWO DENMARKs.

He was Dane, of Skallingen, fisher
man, one of those tremendous fellows with
thick shoulders and short necks-those
human amphbians which the North Sea
seems to breed Two years before he had
brought his child and his emigrant's bag
filled with books and tackle to Maine, to
the little fishing village lying about nine
teen miles to the south eff Machias bay
He came for the reason that the family
with whom he had always lived in Skal-
lingen came also. He followed them I'M
comprehendingly, like dog, for he was
both deaf and mute. His cOuntrymen,
the Danes, wandered away to the West,
leaving him and his boy.
Here, fifty or sixty rods back from the
huge russell cliffs, was the cluster of fish
ermens huts, all in miniature, like a jap
anese village without the color. These tiny
houses were built of hemlock boards and
rough shingles, which the sun and salt
winds had turned to the gray of fog
bank. Behind were the dark nets spread
out to dry and weighted with round stones.
Scattered about here and there one saw
the forked tails and gaping heads of cod.
The whole village had the odor of its live
lihood, and smet of fish, as a cobblers
shop smells of leather.
Here the 1.-TWO Denmarks," as the fish
ermen named them, were content They
lived in the fourth house from the sea,
with Bleoo, a shrewd down easter" who
upon recognizing the mute's marvellous
knowledge of the sea, took him into his
house and employ, making the one pay for
the other From delicacy Bleoo always
spoke of him as "my pardner, Big Den
mark" 1t was good bargain, for the
Dane was a wondrous fisherman, his pow
er of observation being acute as the in
stnct of an animal. He did not realize
his unspeakable loneliness All those
shades of feeling, those complexities of
life of which even the lowest gain ink
lings through conversation, were to him
undiscovered, unknown. In the fulness
of his magnificent manhood he was a rep.
etition of primeval type-an anachronism
"a man whose emotions were elemental,
exclusive, like psychological definition.
But he loved the sea, and he loved his
child. For his wife he had never cared.
To the day of her death she had treated
him as an imbecile.
On those days when the storms prevent
ed the launching of their small skiffs, faith
err and son would climb among the rocks
on the shore under the great walls of cliff,
which from contact with the spray had
rusted like iron. Together they would lie
and stare into the intricate pool, watching
bottom or darting obliquely through the
brown sea weed, causing it to sway in its
moorings. And in the recesses, sheltered
well, were other pools, filled with the wa
tiers of some belated breaker, resting in
their rocky basins still as lenses. Here a
stick stirred gently would perform mira
cles awakening kinds of marine life with
which only naturalsts and children are
acquainted, curious creatures which fled
over the colored shells and glistening peb-
bles to new homes For the more usual
forms, as the sea-urchins and starfish and
hermit-crabs, the two Denmarks had some
sign, some initiative dumb show, which
they alone understood.
At length this little fellow of nine years
with his light blue eyes and frayed-rope
hair became his fathers teacher, the sole
link with the great inheritance of human
knowledge from which this giant had been
shut out.
All his life Denmark had lived with illit-
crate fishermen, men whose minds were
stiff from toll and mOnotony, but now he
gained new impulses, and the elasticity of
the child's brain opened new doors, discov-
ering pleasures of which he knew as little
as primitive man.
Occasionally on their rambles they found
photographers of dead ships, black
woods studded with rivets of copper.
These they priced, for when burned in the
little hut up on the bluff strange flames
were set free-red and yellow with swift
green jets from the copper-producing
lights such as fare in the dreams of chill
dren. In this fashion the two Denmarks
tasted happiness, acting the weird panto-
mime imposed by nature The boy run
ming ahead, pointing, making thousand
gestures, while his father watched him
with those blue eyes of his which necessi-
ty had made so strangely expressive and
intent. But these were holidays-gifts OF
the storm.
After cleaning the fish at night they sat
together until bedtime, watching the burn
ing drift-wood, its changing lights flicker
ing over the pictures from by-gone week
lies which covered the walls, and over Mrs
Bleoo too, who sat upon the hair-cloth sofa
knitting fishermen's stockings for her son
In the morning Little Denmark would
get into an enormous pair of boots flecked
with cod scales. They had belonged tC
Bleoo, and were so large that the child
could almost turn around inside of then
without disturbing their direction. In
these he scuffled down to the shore and
numbered into the boat, while BleOo and
his father stood counting the breakers
waiting until the great ninth wave should
curl when they could pull out in the
''slatch.'
Until lately they had always been to-
gether-the two Denmarks. But now the
little fellow grew restless during the long
day in the small boat. The fish ceased tC
interest him. He knew them all so we'll
the pollacks projecting jaw and pointed
snOut, and then those others, the bake anC
the haddock and the cod, they were so sim
liar Even before they were lifted OVel
the gunwale he recognized them.
Frequently now he strolled away ovel
the gold-colored fields with boys of his
own age, and he liked that; therefore his
father fshed with BleOO.
The little Denmark and his friends wen
often to the railroad, especially to the
drawbridge, which a ragged indentation il
the coast made necessary, for here the riv
er met the ocean. Through this deep estu
airy stalked the slim supports of the iroI
bridge Here on the trestles they swung
like monkeys, doing hundred acts o.
daring, and making the bridge-tender's lif,
woe to him. When he endeavored
,,rI,t Ia .a1s, g o., ~,