The herald., 1894-05-06

an he never took q strolle-he jest sank
like a stun. Everybody screamed an
yelled an called fur ropes an boats, but
none o. al his old cronies standin round
dast wet their skins to help him Would
you believe it, Joe, that young feller
he'd jest been abusin so mean was the
very one to save him? He run back,
tore off his coat an dived right where
father had como under. He was out O.
sight so long the men began to say he
was drowned, too, but artcr awhile he
come up coughin an cholzin, but drag
gin father by the shirt collar jest as
he'd grabbed him under the muddy wa
ter. They got 'eln into u scow an laid
father ON the dock an worked over him
20 minutes afore no come to. he was
sick two weeks with the blow he had
got, but whether he was out o his head
or not he KEEP allus a-callin for Willie,
the chap what's named arter my
boat, he would say. So Willie helped
me nurse him, en- when father was well
he worked with rs tho rest Of the sea-
son. When was gal, Joe, was call
ed good looking, though you wouldn t
believe it now.
''Of course believe it--you know I
do, mother!' interrupted Joe, with such
fervor that the pleased, unready color
is there anything in the world so dear
and pitiful as an old woman's blush?--
crept into her cheek.
"An so Willie took o hlin to me, an
on our last trip that season when wo
was a-lyin to at Loclzport minister
that ran little mission ON tho dock
came down to the boat an married US.
Father would have us married ON The
interchangeable. had a green meri-
no dress-it's in the little trunk with
your baby clothes, Joe--an the next day
me an Willie had our dagerrytypes TAX
en- together. 1t hangs over my bunk,
yer know-it amt bad of me, but it
don't do jestice to Willie.
''The next year you come along, Joe,
an how proud we all was of you'll felt
kinder sorry you didn't have big blue
eyes like yer father, but there, we can't
have eyerythin! 1t seemed as if the
world had gone back 30 years when 1
see you a-sittin by father tied into my
little old cheer. Father never seemed to
git rightly over his accident He was
more civil an didn't swear an drink so
much, an some time he'd look at the
foul water an sh1dder an then look at
Willie so grateful it'd bring tears to my
eyes. One winter, in the old tavern at
Lockport, when he'd been ailin fur a
week or so, he says to me, My gal, you
will soon have two Willies to look ar
ter-Willie yer husband an Willie the
boatp l told him not to talk like that,
but he jest turned over in bed an didn' t
seem to hear me. He didn't speak nor
stir when the doctor come, nor till the
next mornin, when he springs up in
bed an calls out loud an sharp, Low
bridge, low bridget Them was the last
words ever he spoke. -
She paused to wipe her eyes on her
apron.
''Well, I'm maxim a long story out of
it, amt /, dearie? But it seems every
time | tell it as if it might be the last
time. There amt much more now. We
worked ON, year in, year out-fur you,
Joe. 1t was only two year ago last spring,
though it seems like 30, that Willie be-
gun TO fail. He had doctors an medi-
cines, but they didn't do no good. They
said he was Kind % 1rnr,a ont ~; IL Lord
work. They said the fresh air would be
the best thing fur him, so we stald on
the boat all summer as usual, only he
sat an rested while the men worked.
We couldn't very we'll have spared the
profits of even one trip, fur you were
at college, you know, Joe. But he got
worse an worse, an at last / made up my
mind as soon as ever we got to Buffalo
I would take him to the tavern an tel
egraph fur you.
Gone afternoon in August we was 60
in into Buffalo, jest passin along under
the bluff, with the lake an river on the
other side, SO broad an blue you couldn' t
tell where the lake ends an the river be-
gins. Willie lay back in big easy chair
under an awnin, jest where we're sit
tin now, an was .Aeldin the tiller-I
hain't ever had the strength to do it
sence, Joe; I've been, all broke up late
". There had come an awful gray look
on his face in the last mile or two that
frightened me SO I didn't dare ask him
how he felt, but now an agin he'd smile
at me with his big blue eyes, that was
Jest as pretty that day, joe, as they was
the fust evenin | saw him. At last l
says, as the cool, strong wind off the
lake blew over us, It's nice breeze,
amt it, Witlie?' An he says, yes, lass,
but it's takin MY soul along with it. ,
An l had only TAME to drop on my knees
by him an kiss him once before it was
all over. An ever sence, when we slip
along by that bluff, 1 feel the same
breeze that took his soul away with it. :"
Her tears ran unchecked for some
minutes before she resumed.
THAT'S all, Joet--that's why can't
never leave the canal ah this old boat.
| sometimes feel as If / cared more fur
it than do fur YOU. OF course tain It SO
Il only Jest feel,so. The boat belongs
to my whole life some way--hut you re
so young an such o stranger from bein
away so nucil--but there, l KEEP assay
in all these years .ib'd BE- all right when
you was home fur good, we'd be jest the
same as if you'd never gone away! SUCH
store as your father set by your fust fig
gers AN writin, Joel don't know what
he'd have said, nor your grandfather
either, to see the French an Latin an
creek books in yer cabin now'
And her brown eyes, so like Joe's
own, smiled on him with innocent
pride, only to cloud suddenly.
''But it would have shamed thom,
Joe, an angered your grandfather most