The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1895-12-22
THE MORNING NEWS SUNDAY. DECEMBER %. 1855.

]
Yes. surely C!arisse is stealing up-she
is on her rlvafs quarter-she Is drawing
ahead-she is showing Glendower her taft
railr'
"Hurrah-hurrah-hu bouts Uncle
George, beside himself with excitement.
and waving his great straw hat IN me
air..
Half an hour later Esmonde is receiving
the congratulations of his friends on his
victory. and who shall blame him if the
sight Of Chrissie's radiant face is too much
for him. and he makes an opportunity to
steal a kiss-half dozen kisses-without
reprOof.
Mai Delacombe. genuine sportsman.
joins the little dinner party which takes
place latter on in the winners cabin, and
gives the toast "Clarisser' very heart
ily.
It is dusk when the visitors go ashore.
just in time for the last train for Lang
The sky looks threatening, and a strong
wind shrills through the taught rigging.
Il shall get under weigh at sunrise, ="
EsnIonde says; and should be of Langley
in nice time TO cross the bar with the even
ing,s high water"
Why, blesss my heart. it's gone down
to @2r' says Uncle George, tapping the
barometer in the hall of Langley House
next morning; my word, that looks stor-
myY
Chfissie and her sisters are gazing from
the rain-dashed windows over the labur-
mum tops at the vista of windy grey va
ters, mareined with yeasty white where
they touch the rocks.
From seward comes a low thundrOus
roar. ominous as the believing of a bull
"Oh, Uncle. the bar is up, look at the
line of breakers. ] do hope the Clarisse
won't have started" Chrissie says, trem-
You may be sure she won't if there's
any risk, Harry's a capital sailor, and
knows what he's about.
They stroll up TO the Coastguard sta
ton after lunch, and consult the chief
bOatman.
Lord bless me. no sir. not bit of dan
ger! the navyman says, cheeriy. BLOW
in ard. cert-nly, and dead on short. But
they'll only have to time it proper when
they takes the bar. I've been down to see
the tide signalman TO make certain, and
right and ready old Bill Is sure enough
You may lay yOur life on ii, sir, as he'll
down his red and up his green flag pune
tual to half a minute when it's tide top.
AS the day wears on the gale increases,
heavy showers fall at interVals-the es-
planade is deserted.
In the shelter of the thick yew hedge at
the bottom of the garden, Mr.. Blakely
has been strolling up and down for an
hour or so, putting his well-colored meer-
schaum.
hedge from the lane beyond-a head with
beaver cap on it, and under the cap
bulldog face and projecting ears.
Blakely stops abruptly.
"Oh, that's YOU Smith, Ell? Wen, what's
Straight tip, gov'nor! Real cert! Dead
"Yes?"
AYE yes, guv-nor. When you guy me
that there tenner and promised another
wOt wos l to do fur It? Me and my pal
wos to knock agin Muster Hesmonde in
some snug spot. pick row some ow,
and guy i'm right RIG 5ashin' z" u,..
well, gov nor. they're more ways o.
KILN a dawg nor shootin' i'm, amt there?
How'd ii suit your book 10 have that thAre
rod nd inns
run off chance of drowndin' and not a
Suit me well. Smith; well - him."
Blakely whispers fiercely. But how in
Never you mind the 'ow, govnor-
that's my business You leave it to me
dawg to bite fur you you needn't bite
yerself."
With which reassuring sentiment the
head withdraws stealthily, and Blakely
continues his walk and his pipe.
Some two hours later the knot of sea-
farng characters outside the Anchor
scanning the turbulent tracts to seaward,
| sight "a sail.standing in before the gale.
Soon they can recognize the Clarfhss
under short canvas, laundering along
1 powerful cutter crossing the bar Will be
/ a fine sight, and as the word spreads quite
a large group of spectators gather on the
Among the first to arrive are Chrissie,
with her sister and uncle.
/ She's timed it lovely" declares an old
/ fsher-fellow. Half after six now, and
4 high watern so afore seven.
BY the time the town hall clock chimes
I T. the yacht is lacking about within two
! or three miles OF the par, waiting IOr the
The sea runs very high, and the cutter,
/ heaving over to IL until the length OF her
white deck is visible and the red gold of
1 her sheeting flashes up luridly over the
/ long green wash, makes fine sea pic
/ ture-
IT'S queer old swell sets in yere,
mates" a seaman observes; 'if that there
clipper can't work out agin it faint in the
| power O. canvas to do it, And she can I,
mates-rve took marks, and inch by inch
she's fallin' to leeward. She couldn'
ratch out the bay agin' to save herself!'
AYE, right you are Bill. Only she $
got our little 'arbour on her lee, she'd
! leave her bones on the rocks to-day.
There's no danger, l trust, my men,?
queries Mr. Medhurst hastily, holding
| his hat on with both hands and gazing
| seward with smarting eyes.
"Danger? Nay, never dread, sir! The
! red hag'u be downed Directly, and ur
goes the green. and in she comes
| Half-past seven strikes and wonder
ing ewes are turned to the signal pole
far out on. the seward promontory. Still
the red color flies like tongue of fire
against the sullen grays and greens OF
"High waters goin wonderful later one
of the men says, 1T should go at sever
by the tlde ldnle-- A..
"Ahi but you can't look at that. Alma
nac's no good for the bar Tide varies
we're such a big lot accordin' TO the vino
in the ofIin. Else where'd be the need OF
the fag?" t ,,,-
falling in before the great send of The
sea and the fierce wind. Couldn't they
anchor for a bit?" Mr.. Medhurst sug
e"Not a bit o. good, sir; bittom's al
round stone and smooth as a lump o
soap bless you. An anchored only skee
along over it,
And now the watchers grow momently
more anxious. Every eye is fixed on the
signal pole.
Still the red pennant flies.
"Once--twice-thri de-comes the clanG
of the clock again.
"Ouarter to eight! Why, here's a rummI
tale matesl High water went at half arte
sI,s. Yesterday and il faint tide-top by
| nowSI' II eat my hatr'
The men look at each other amazedly
then. as if by one impulse, number o.
them start off at run in the direction o
the signal point
Ten minutes run and they arrive breath
less.
Above them the red flag sores in tn,
wind. on the sward beneath lies the greer
in a bundle ready to hoist But no sigI
of ta r{e anKVNVhprpl