The record-union., 1893-08-05

along the coast was out of danger. From
suppertime on it got worse steady. The
house rocked an shook like birds nest,
an sometimes bricks would come fallin'
down the chimney. l blessed the rheum-
atlz, tell you, Iookin' at father safe by
the fire, for if he'd been able to walk a
deck, I'd have been worryin' my heart
out like many poor woman in town that
night.
Well, there we set quiet enough by the
Kitchen stove. We didn't feel like talkin'.
| knitted, am every once in awhile
tatherd get up an 90 to the winder an
listen against the pane, am then he'd
come back an set down again, as mum as
nsh. l knew he was Uneasy, am l knew
wei enough why. An what he was
tearin' come in time. We mostly get to
bed by O'Clock, but that night we never
so much as thought of it till the old clock
up behind you struck IL; then father says,
We might as well get some sleep,
Adlne," an l was putin away my
knlttln' work, when / heard the church
bell, "cianketty-c y-clank-clanket etty-clank." :"
and then, in minute, Cap'n Zach's
conch-shell horn, that the boys used to
call the last trump" blowin' like mad.
Father was into his rubber coat an
boots before you could wink. There
wasn't no thought of lameness then, am
didn't try TO hender him. 'Twouldn't
have been no use, an land l didn't
wanter, if he could do a mite of good to
the poor shipwrecked cre'turs that bell
was a-ringin' fur.
He says to me when I handed him the
lantern an his flask of spirits: You
neednts worrlt, my woman, fur | amt
a-goin' to be rash, an you keep the fire
up an the kettle on. We may have com
pany before mornin'. An he went off
into the dark. I held the door open after
him minute an / see some one with
another lantern wait for him at the gate
am heerd 'em say, "North beach," but
that was all, an, l went back to the
kitchen alone.
l filled up the stove an put the kittle
over, an then set there nervous as a cat,
wlshin' l had somethin' more to do, an
suddenly the door flew open an in come
Matt Cooks Liz BETH all drenched with
rain. She had a lantern an she begged
me to 60 along with her, for she couldn't
stand 1t to home another minute. | was
wlllln enough, you can believe, an |
tied an old coat Of fathers round me am
a hood an we started. out by the gate
we run against Mis- Nelson, an her sis
ter, an old Granny Ely, 50 we all clung
together am went on. 'Iain't likely we
could have gone alone, some OF us. Ii
was awful. Quick as we got to the top of
the hill we was up to our ankles in loose
sand. The witch grass tangled round
our feet, an the rain an hail was just
like needles in our faces. We headed for
the north beach as well as we could, by
waltin' for the lightnin' an then gettin'
our bearin's, an pretty soon we see
Kind of dull red glow, an we knew
they'd made fire there, and we aimed
for that. You know what walllin' Oh the
dunes is, even on pleasant sunshiny
day, so you can guess some what we had
to get over. HOWSOmdeVer, we done il
after awhile, an come down on to the
beach where the fire was built. It was in
the shelter Of the big dune where
you was paintin' last week - by
Scared Rock, you know an it
was middlin' quiet there. AT first
we couldn't see nothin' but the surf,
but pretty soon our eyes got used to the
freight, an then we see the wreck. You
amt never see one? AM | hope you
won't have to, 1or it makes you feel diff
terent all the rest OF your days-you get
to hate the ocean, an be afraid OF it when
it's quiet and peaceable even.
The breakers was fearful-as high as a
house they looked to me, an through 'em
when they'd kind Of open you could get
a sigh. of Scared Rock. The wreck was
there. 1t was chooner-French she
was-an' her masts was hangin' over her
side all tangled up in the riggin', and
clingin' to her was four or five black
things that we knew was men. 1t was
horrible to see 'em. Every once in awhile
the waves would lift the vessel up am
smash her down on the rock for all the
world like I've seen the Portugee chill
dren tryin' to smash a cocoanut. 1t made
me feel weak am sick all over.
There was consider BILE many folks on
the beach, some OF 'em throwin' drift
wood on the fire, and some had axes an
was chopin at the timbers Of an old
boat that had been there tor years am
years.
Father an Cap'n Zach was side by side
close to the water's edge, shoutin' aud
tryin' to get word TO them poor tellers
out on the schooner, am the rest of the
men was standin' with ropes ready to
run into the water if any of 'em should
be washed ashore.
When father turned round an see US
he come back to the fire, an he saws to
me, what on earth brought you here
'Tain't no sight for women" an lust
then there was kind of lull in the storm,
an l could hear them poor wretches
shriekin' to us for help that we couldn't
give. My! My! My! Many's the night
since then that I've walked with that
sound in my ears! Our men gave yoli
i'll answer, an us women bust out
cryin', all but Granny Ely; she grabbed
father by the arm an shook him. ''Why
don't you do somethin'? Be you men or
be you chickens ?'' she says. You see.
her husband an two sons was drownded
OFF that same beach, an she only had her
grandchild left, an she was kind of
looney at the sight.
Father knew how she was, an he an
swered her kindly. There amt a single
boat this side OF the cape" he says, ''an'
the beach roads six 1eet under water, an
Will be tor an hour to come. An no
mortal could get boat over the dunes.
Dumb critters wouldn't head into no
such storm even If they was able to haul
cart through that sand. An if we had
twenty boats, granny" he says, I'VE
couldn't launch 'em in that water.'
''W here's the life boat ?'' says granny.
"Over in Avery's she'd" ansN cred
father, real patient. tits no use thinkin'
OF it-she can't hold out ten minutes
longer, | don't believe"
God help us all then" SAYS granny.
pullin' her shawl over her head SOS she
couldn't see nothin', an we kept on a
cryin'.
Il wouldn't take on so, Ad'liue.u saws
father to me then. He hated to see me
cry the worst way. "When she goes to
pieces the men'l wade out with ropes
we've got plenty-an' like as not we'll
get 'em ashore SAFE" but he was only
sayin' it TO quiet me, for I'd often heerd
him telIin' how the undertow was worse
of Scared Rock than any place along
coast. Then he went away, an we hud-
died up together am waited-fur what we
knew had to come.
Every time he turned to the fire 1 could
see Cap'n Zach's mouth openin' an shut
tim reg lar as clockwork, an l knew as
we'll as if | heerd that be was ravin, an
cursin' like a pirate. Father he was
quiet, but white as q dead man, an old
Cook, standin' close up to 'em, was
shakin' ali over like the ague.
By an by Liz beth am couldn't stand
it no longer, an we crept close to where
father was, an just then there come more
OF them terrible wailin's from the wreck,
and old Cook he says, She'll 90 auv