Omaha daily bee., 1896-12-13

and being JAMS and hers would she not be
brave?
On the top OF low hllock in the island
was a tree OF considerable height. To this
Jan had rigged a swing. Sailor-lke he had
run the rope through a pulley, which he
had fastened to a stout upper bough.
Little one" said her mother, claspng
the childs small hands in hers and looking
earnestly into the upturned eyes, papa is
out on the sea in the night and storm
and big waves and cannot see his way home.
He may be drowned! DO you want to help
mother save hlm?"
"Yass. manner. Yass." the child re-
piled solemnly, with round eyes.
And will you do just what mamma
tells you, and be brave and strong, like
papa?"
"Yass. Liberty will. Liberty wants to-"
replied JAMS little girl with eager earn
estness.
Her mother kissed her with a sob. Then
she ran to an outhouse and selected long,
knotted pine fagot. She lit a fire on the
hearth and stuck the end OF the fagot into
the flames. While II was kindling she
snatched the small white counterpane from
Liberty's bed and got coil OF stout MANILA
rope from a cupboard
Plucking the blazing fagot from the fire
she took Liberty by the hand and hastened
to the swing Sticking the fagot in the
ground, she wrapped the counterpane about
the child and tightly lashed her EMBODIED in
II, to 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 1t will not burn you"
The child, with awe In her face but an
air OF dauntless courage, clutched the fagot
In her two soft hands with a tremulous
sigh Then the mother hauled on the other
side of the rope and the living beacon rose
slowly in the air The wind blew rent
sheet of yellow fire from the cracking
fagot, kindling IL to greater flame. 1t was
full of rosin and the stin gale only whipped
1t to fiercer blaze.
When the mother had tugged at the rope
until the child was at the greatest height
she could go, Mrs Verbakken seated her
self in the loop of the swing and clung dog
gedly to the same side on which she had
been hosting Her upturned eyes were
fastened on her child. The roaring glare OF
the tagot lit up the white-robbed little girl,
and her tossing golden curls were like
aonther soft sphere OF fire.
Oh, II courage should fail the childl
Or If she should let the torch drop! Or
should be burned by some swift veer in the
wind! Heaven be good to them.
She could not cry up to her to encourage
her The voice of the whistling wind
drowned her own. She could only keep her
eyes strained on thai small figure in the
air with the blazing pine iagot cutched
In her tiny hands The blaze wabbled and
swayed, but 1t stayed. 1t was JAMS child
holding it for her father.
blbEf(l1 1 y REWARD.
How long that vigil lasted Mrs Verbak,
ken never knew. 1t seemed each moment a
growing marvel that the small lungs OF her
child could brook the fierce gusts of that
upper air, and the tender hands and cour-
age could not 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 hands, the mothers
heart plead against the wife's and she felt
that she must lower the plucky little girl
Just then she thought she heard sharp,
quick grating on the pebbly shore as IL
boat had been driven up on II. 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 forward 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 still clung
to her torch, although her face was set
and some OF her windblown golden curls
were singed by the flame
John Verbakken, with q proud smile on
his stern lips and wetness in his black eyes
that the storm had not put there. Rugged
Liberty with his left arm close to his breast
and with his other round his dropping wife
led them into the small house, happier than
ever before In his whole adventurous life.
He had been driving ignorantly about in
the stormy darkness wien that star of
guidance flashed upon his straining eyes and
heart had told him that II blazed for him,
though how he knew not till he scaled the
hill and saw little Liberty swing 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 breas. for the long sleep
before the final dawn. The writer learned
all this from a musty old screed, written
by Liberty herself, and which is now
jealously treasured in the archives of an old
American family. Do not ask it's name. You
know 1t we'll.
One thing may be told, On that self-same
small island of JAMS. when the sun sank
behind the smoky Jersey outlines in the
west, ever since the autumn of 1886, there
has stood the most majestic maiden in the
world. with a torch fed by electric fire in her
unwavering hand. Far down the bay the
incoming steamers sight the noble figure OF
liberty enlightening the world
But 1t Is not a bit more noble, not more |
beautiful than was the little child of O. swung !
into the storm-veXed air of that summer |
night of the long ago, guiding by her fagots
leaping flame her father. whom love had |
made good, back to wife. daughter and Iona |
md