The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1896-06-13
WRECK OF THE HYACINTH.

flashed, and in response the artillery
of heaven doomed and rolled, then
crashed, as if the very skies were rent
in twain to deliver one mighty blow
Streets were transformed into leaping.
rushing rivers by the terrible downpotr
of rain, while the breakers on that
lone. dreary New England coast seemed
to defy the challenge of the roaring
storm.
The fleet of small fishermen had sour
RED to safe anchorage early in the
afternoon.
May God help any ship and crew
that gets on lee shore tonight, lads"
soberiy remarked Capt. Josh Hard
ing, of the lifeboat, to a few of his men,
rs he stepped to the door and pecred out
into the opaque darkness.
The government at that time had not
erected the neat, coy life-saying sta
tion with all its modern appliances to
rescue crew from stranded ship
which now adorns the long, barren
stretch of sand, but the crew were menu
bers of the fishing fleet, and always vol
unteered their services without promise
of reward. A whaleboat served their
purpose then, and many despairing
sailor had good cause to praise her
stanchness and the bravery of her IRON
hearted crew.
A flash Of lightning in the early even
ing had revealed large bark trying to
weather the wreck-bestrewn, fatal
Handkershoal, which caused the bluff,
ragged mariner to utter the foregoing
remarks.
Where is John Lawrence tonight.
lads? He is generally here night like
this he continued, in an anxious tone
Johns wife amt very well, cap'n; so
] heered as / cum daown," answered
Reuben Davis, one Of the crew.
We'll, go up, a couple of yen see.
should hate to mann the boat withou.
John. He's never missed a trip yet,"
said Capt. Harding, pacing the small
room which served them as a shelter
from the storm and was located on the
beach, with the boat drawn up outside
Just above the reach of the kissing.
seething waters, which seemed to re-
cede with dispairing means at failing
to drag it into their depths.
BY the bedside of his wife. holding
her thin, wasted hand between the
large, horny palms of his own, sat John
Lawrence, one of the bravest of the vol
unteers.
oh, if l could but see Tom once more
/ could go easy, john" she hoarsely
whispered.
"The lads gone, Mary, N we don't
know where. It's bin nigh ontcr tew
year sence | heered he'd shipped in the
fo-eas'tle fer the West Indies, IN he
hasn't writ word hum sence."
Il know he was bad boy, John.
But don't you think that you was
little hard on him. she continued.
"He was all we had, you know"
The large eyes filed with tears and
the fIail form shook and trembled with
emotion as the mother pleaded for her |
wayward boy.
u don't know what's the matter with |
your wife, John. It's either a case of |
broken heart or some new disease. Med |
icine don't seem to reach it," the doctor
had said, upon leaving, few hours be-
fore.
You'll forgive him when I'm gone.
John, won't you? lie didn't mean to be
bad!" she said, between her sobs.
At this moment the door softly |
opened and the captains messenger
stepped in.
John, there's a bark that can't
weather the Han 'kerchi'f, n Their cap
tain sent us arter ye," said Davis.
Its no use, boys. can't leave her
ter-night. She wouldn't be here when
| got back" said Lawrence, softly, rub