The Lafayette gazette. [volume] (Lafayette, La.) 1893-1921, 1893-08-26
A STORY OF THE SEA.
- Told by Crazy Nell to q Sum-
mer-Day Visitor.

streets, its ancient houses, its old
wharfs, once the scene of activity, now
silent and dcserted,'' etc.
I stood at the end of the landing
place and looked down the long street
with the walk on one side and the har-
Dor on the other, then turned to watch
the crowd rush past to take the town
by storm, staring in at the windows of
the houses, overru ming the quiet little
graveyard. intruding everywhere; in
fact, doing verything that rude, van
dal excursionists do the world over.
"Desecrators!'' thought, chow shall
1 avoid you? Hero I take what sup
pose to be an out-of-the-.vay trip to a n
out-of-the-way place to get ii little rest.
and, if possible, new ideas, but instead
of a quiet boat and leisurely sail, you,
tho great uncouth, overlooking with
animal spirits and lunch baskets, are
before me, yea, your crumbs arc upon
me, and the marks of your childrcn's
clammy hands and the sound of their
anguishcd sobs arc even yet mine"
After which elegant apostrophe I
desperately struck into Il struggling
side street. and in Il few short moments,
to my astonishmcnt. they were left far
behind.
stopped and looked about.
Behind me the town lay. a narrow
bordering tho inner harbcr Here
and there thin Eencilcd column of
smoke rose straight up as from h fire
in a desert, the air was still and 1.o4.
Before nc a stretch of binding
yellow sand, sparkling with glints OF
amethyst and pearl from the dis
integratcd sea shells which formed
part of the drift that lay heapcd up in
odd, lnonstrous, angular dunes, tufted
with occasional punches of vivid green
wire grass; a vcrita bic sea scrpents
lair; Il domain of dcsolation.
Beyond, scs, calm, translucent
that the horizon line is lost, melted
away into tho sky.
A monotonous droning filled the ear,
reminding one of the cicatas OF Prov
cnce. From some shipyard came the
dull-measured stroke of cnull<cr's
hammer, sounding like the tapping of Il
woodpecl>cr; again the ''pccp! pccp!"
of Il sand bird; these are the only evil
tlenccs of life. The spell of sleep is
over everything, and l stand looking
unconsciously right ahead TIL the sud-
den noise of the excursion boat blow
ing OFF steam arollscs me, and I sec a
low cottage, the last on tho lane, sur
rounded by a 1ncagcr yard fenced with
driftwood held together by pieces of
rigging.
Before the door is a prctcntious porch
or arbor constructed of the gray, blcach-
ing ribs of a whale. An cnterprising
morning-glory vino is endcavoring to
it protrutics and stands out from the
fla bioy, sun-killcd wrcaths like .vhitcd
scpulcher. cobblc-stonc walk edged
with pink conch shells compile ties tho
dreary ensemble.
am about to turn back to the town,
for it is not very pleasant padding about
in the shifting sands under the broiiing
sun, when 1 see little crouchcd-up
figure sitting on a block of wood in the
shadow of an old dory, and SO much the
color Of the surroundings as to be al
most unnoticed.
1t is a woman, gray and bent with
years, looking fixcdly a T. me with queer,
canny eyes, her lips moving she
counts the stitches of the knitting in
her hands.
I push open the gate on its rope hinges
and enter. asking politely for n drink
of water: Never stopping she mods
toward the we'll. l help myself and
then sit down near her, remarking:
s'ThiS is a beautiful day"
"Sun draw water in the mornin'
Sailors take warnin',"
she answers, never taking her eyes off
me. 1t was unexpected I started,
but rallying said:
"Well, a nice fresh breeze wouldn't
hurt u.s.
In sad, monotonous tone, she re-
piled:
" When winds blow frcsh'across the main
And mist scuds up from the lea,
There's apt to be some rain
And a choppy SOU cast sea-" .
''WcH, weli," l laughed, pleasantly,
though didn't feel n mite that way;
you're quite Il rhymster, mother; got
verses for all kinds of weather.
The laugh seemed to please the old
sybil for an instant, then the small eyes
grew sad again and she said, nodding
toward the village:
''Stayin' bclow?"
mo. just came down and going right
back
''Thcn nobody sent you hcre?' lean
ing forward.
mo; just straycd this way to avoid
the crowd Why do you ask?''
''They send people here to bother me.
They say I'm crazy, crazy Nell you
know; ever hear tell of hcr?''
mo; but tell me, mother, how do
you live in tins wildcrness?''
''All the day knit stocl<in's an mits
an lots of nippers for the fishermen to
wear when they're fishin'. They're not
all bad. They give me food and things
for them, sometimes a little tea; but
it's a poor life lad, poor an sorrow
full life for old crazy Nell, with only her
thoughts and the seas means for COM
pany; an death passes me, that only
longs to &c, and takes the young an
strong, that wants to live; but the day
is nigh at hand now; soon will see my
Malcolm, my bonny boy, my husband
gone. lad, gone, gone, and only married