The morning times., 1896-12-13

Tells you, and be brave and strong like
papa?"
''Yass Liberty Will Liberty wants
TO, replied JAMS little girl with eager
earncstncss.
Her mother kissed her with sob Then
she ram 10 an onthouse and selected long,
knotted pine falos. She lit fire on the
hearth, aud stuck the end Of the faGot
into the flames. while it was klndling
she snatched the small white Counterpart
from L;berty's bed and o. coil Of stout
manila rope from a cupboard.
Ilucking the blazing fagOt fiom the tire
she t ok Liberty by the hand and hastenetl
TO the swing. Sticking the fai OF in the
ground she wrapped the counterpane about
the child and tightly lashed her. enfoldPd
in it, "a the rope OF the swing. Now,
| darling, listen and do just what mother
| tells you. Hold this torch in Your hands,
tight, tight. There that way, SO il VIII
not burn YOU. You are going to save
papa's life, and l shall Ice right here be
low You Take it, Liberty, and 90 not let
it DROP
| Wien the mother had tupg ged at the rope
until the child was at the greatest height
she could So Mrs. VeTbockken seated her
! self in the op of the swing and clung
| doggediy 10 the same side on which She
had been hosting Her upturned eyes
| were fastened On her child. The roIring
! glare Of the fagoo lit up the white-robed
/ little girl and her tossing Oldcn Curls We're
/ like another soft sphere Of tire.
| oh, if her courage st ould faiI the child,
| Or if she should let the torch drop. or
| should lie burned by ONE swift veer in the
! wind, Heaven be &C Cd to them
| She could not cry up tOher to encourage
| her The voice OF the whiStling wind
| drowned her own. She could only keep
! her eyes strained on that small figure in
| the air with the blazing pine-fa got clutched
in her tiny hands. The blaze wabbled and
| Swayed, but it stayed. 1t was JAMS child
! holding ii for her father
| How long that vigil lasted Mrs Yer
| bOckken never knew. Ii seemed each
| moment growing marvel that the small
| lungs of her child could brook the fierce
| gusts OF that upper air that the tender
| hands and courage could hold out in that
| whirl of fiery heat and flame. At last as
| the torch was dropping more and more in
| the cramped grasp of the baby's hands the
| mothers heart pleaded against the wife's
and she felt that she must lower the
| plucky little girl
Just then she thought she heard a
sharp, quick grating on the pebbly shore
aS If boat had been driven up on it.
With tears OF Joy she waited breathless
TWO moments, and Jan, soaked with wet
and Fastening up the slope as fast as his
clogged legs would let him, strobe for
ward into the CLEAN Of the home torch and
saw the new star in the heaven which had
been his guide
He lowered the little girl, who Stin
ciHng TO her torch, although her face was
set, aud some Of her wind blown golden
curls Were Singed by the flame
Jan FerbOckken. with proud smile On
his stern lips and wetncSS in mis- black ewes
that the storm had not put there. hucged
Liberty with his left arm close To his
breast, and with the other around his
dropping wifeled them into theSnan house.
happier than ever before in his whole adj
venturouS life
He had been driving ignorantIv about
| in the stormy darkness when that star
of guidance flashed upon his StraiuiDc
eyes and down in his rugged breast the
love in his heart had told him that it
biazed for him though how he knew not tin
tie scaled the lin and saw little Liberty
swung aloft, the beacon for her fathers
salvation.
They lived and died happily, Jan and
| his wife. and when they passed away
| took perpetual possession of their small
island by sinking into its breast for the
| long sleep before the final dawn. The
| writer learned all this from mustv old
| screed, written by Liberty herself and
which is now jealousy treasured in tie
| archives OF an old American family.
| DO not ask its name. You knew it well
One think may he told. On that self
| same small island Of JAMS, when the sun
| had sunk behind the smoky Jersey out
/ lines In the West, ever since the autumn
| of SS6, there has stood the most majestic
maiden in the world, with a torch fed
'by electric fire in her unwayering hand.
/ Far down the bay the incoming steamers
! sight the noble figure of Liberty EniiEht-
/ ening the World
I But it is not a bit more noble, not more
/ beautiful than was the little child of
| five, swung into the storm-vexed air of
| that summer night of tie long ago. guild
| ing ny her fagot's leaping flame her father.
/ whom love had made good, back to wife,
! daughter, and lone island home