The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1893-08-25

"Good Lord "a mercy What'n become
Of 'emT says l, an father sort O. groaned.
You see he would have helped 'em quick
as look at 'em an been glad to, but what
with buyin our own house, an losin two
voyages already with rheumatic, an doc
tors bills comm in besides, we couldn't
have raised $50, don't believe, to save
us. We could take 'em in an do for 'em
some, but that was about all.
So there they was, three of 'em, an not
thing really belongin to 'em but tum-
BILE down shed where boats was KEEP, an
their old white horse, Bess. She was
about Dode's age an half blind, but they
thought as much Of her as if she was a
human bein, an declare for t she could
all but talk, she was so KNOWN.
But Of course she wouldn't fetch
nothin, even if they'd had sold her, which
they wouldn't, not for no money.
1t was a hard lookout for 'em-now
wasn't itp We felt so blue we didn't eat
no dinner scarcely that day, an after
settin awhile father said he'd go out an
fix up around, for if he was any judge
DQGT6 was Udu WcdblCl OOlhlLl, OH LdDbs
too, but ! knew all the time it was a
good deal to get away from hangin
round worryin over what couldn't be
mended, an felt the same as he did.
Well, sure enough, after dinner it be-
gun to cloud over, an by o'clock you
couldn't hardly see your hand before
your face without lamp, an such rain
an wind and lightnin never see before.
I've lived through many storms, first an
last. since I've been on the cape, an II
fathers ashore they all seem pretty much
alike to me, but that one was different
somehow. 1t hailed, an l don't know
but it Numbered, though don't remem-
Der of hearin it, an / don't suppose
could have anyway, for the noise of the
wind an the water. The surf was bad
enough on the bay shore, but on the
ocean side it was like cannons, for all it
was near two miles off.
From noontime the vessels KEEP a-comin
into the bay, an when father come to
supper he said there was more'n hun
bred, an we felt glad, hopin everything
along the coast was out of danger. From
supper time on it got worse steady. The
house rocked an shook like birds nest
an sometimes bricks would come fallin
down the chimney. blessed the rheu-
matiz, tell you, lookin 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, an every once in awhile ia
ther'd get up an go to the winder an
listen against the pane, an then he'd
come back an set down again as mum as
a fish. knew he was Uneasy, an knew
well enough why. An what he was
fearin come in time. We mostly get to
bed by 0 o'clock, but that might've never
so much as thought of it till the old
clock up there behind you struck IL.
Then father says, 1--WE might as well get
some sleep, Ad'line," an l was putin
away my knittin work when heard the
churchbell "clanketty clank. clanketty
clank," an then in a minute Capn
Zach's conchshell horn, that the boys
used to call the "last trump" BLOWN like
mad.
Father was into his rubber coat an
boots before you could wink. There
wasn't no thought of lameness then, an
didn't try to bender him. Twouldn't
have been no use, an landi ! didn't
wanter II he could do mite of good to
the poor shipwrecked cre'tur's that bell
was a-ringin fur.
He says to me when handed him the
lantern an his flask of spirits: you
needn't worrit, my woman, fur l 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. | held the door open after
him minute, an see some one with an
other lantern wait for him at the gate
nm heerd 'em say, North beach," but
that was all. an I went back to the
kitchen alone.
filled up the stove an put the httle
over, an then set there nervous as cat,
wishin | had somethin more to do, an
suddenly the door flew open, an in come
Matt Cooks Liz beth, all drenched with
rain. She had lantern, an she begged
me to go along with her, for she couldn't
stand it to home another minute. was
willin enough, you can believe, an tied
an old coat of fathers round me an a
hood an we started. Out by the gate we
run against Mis- Nelson an her sister an
old Granny Ely, so we all chung to-
gether an went on. 'Tain'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 waitin for the lightnin an then gettin
our bearin's, an pretty soon we see q
kind Of a dull red glow, an we knew
they'd made a fire there, an we aimed
for that. You know what walkin ON the
dunes Is even on pleasant sunshiny
day, 80 you can guess some what we had
TO get over. Howsomdever, we done 1t
after awhile, an come down on to the
beach where the fire was built. 1t was
In the shelter Of the big dune where you
was paintin last weekly Scared rock,
you lnow-an it was middlin quiet there.
At first we couldn't see nothin but the
| surf. but pretty soon our ewes got used