Gulf Coast breeze. [volume] (Crawfordville, Fla.) 1897-19??, 1897-10-15

GOOD view of the New tprk zach
Regatta, viii, II WIS to hay, race.
4Ick Freen an, still d Earring h
wanted TO see n, thing tina might re
mind him of the world L had lief
until he returned 10 H. tecided Z
to remain back.
Alick did not long en-, o. sne part o
hermit which no volupte. 90 10 pay
He strolled along the shOr' WIN III
fishing pole on his shoulde 'uu cas-
many an anxious glance in ths u'ru ,c
tion where he had Otter seen VIZ
young ladies, but they did ,et slsdo VI
his sight. No doubt they had gon>
off to look at the regatta
About three o'clock i'll q afternou
Alick Freeman put on j. bathing
dress and went down to DE beach.
He was u good swimmer, tough until
this summer all his practie had been
in tideless, fresh waite, lakes or
streams.
He boldly plunged thru Ugh the rim
Of surf and swan ont for a hundred
yards, rising aud falling oi the swells
That rolled in and broke OF the white
shingle.
"I'll lie on my back aud let the
waves wash me in" Suiting the
action to the thought, ilick threw
himself on his back-he could float
without moving muscle. land, clos
ing his eyes, he was rociod by the
swolls, which he imagined were bear
ing him nearer and nearer to the
shore.
Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed,
and, wondering why he was not
thrown among the breakers, ~ he cx-
pected, Alick Freeman turned over on
his face and rubbed the water from
his eyes.
Instead OF being near the shore, he
was a half mile ont, and the tide, on
which he had not counted, was bear
ing him rapidly TO sea.
He took in the situation in and in
slant, and, though realizing the danger,
he did not lose his presence Of mind.
His safety depended on his GOODNESS.
He struck out for the shore, half
throwing himself from the water by
his powerful strokes, but all in vain.
The tide still dragged him out farther
and farther toward the foaming bar, on
whose white crest tossed the black
buoy.
He took off his wide-brimmed straw
bathing hat and waved i, in the hope
that some one might see him; then,
anxious to reserve his strength, hs
again threw himself on his back and
drifted with the tide in the line OF the
buoy. IF / can reach that" he
thought, ~ can cling TO the chains
till help comes--if it ever does"
Before entering the line of breakers
that marked the bar, he again waved
his hat, then threw it away.
He reached the buoy, hut the chains
that kept il anchored were shiny and
covered with seawsed yat he so placed
his body across the chains a. TO keep
from drifting farther to sea, and there
he hung for what seemed an age.
The sun was setting, and he was
losing oil heart,as well AZ all strength,
when he heard a shrll voice above the
thunder of the breakers.
He tried to reply.
The next instant boat with a single
occupant-a girl--at the oars, shot
past him aud turned toward the buoy.
"Where are you?" she shouted.
"Here! Here"
Alick let go his hold, and, with
now strength ma lie for the boat.
The young heroine caught him and
helped hiin ON board, and the moment
he was safe he tainted.
When he came 10 he was back on
the shore, and Sam White and Casper
Burns, who Ia come up, were chat
ing him with tie aid of gentleman
whom Alick recognized as Julia
Fletcher's father.
Take him up TO tho house," said
Mr.. Fletcher, 'and then go to your
cabin FOX his clothes. Poor fellow, he
had hard tussel for his life"
But the heroine? Well, as the fates
would have it, Mr.. Fletcher, his wife
and his neice, Dora Weldon, had gone
OFF to see the regatta, and Julia, acting
under a within, IA the others supposed,
remained at home. She saw the
swimmer in distress, and interpreted
his signals, though she knew not ut
the time who he was. She ran to the
inlet, got a boat and boldly started
out with the result already shown.
Next day Alick was himself, and he
sent word to the bank about his ac-
cident, the result being that he and
Casper had an extension of smother
week.
How the time was spent we need
not say Alick owed it to his fair
preseryer to become her servant, and
SO he was with her nearly oil the
time, strolling on the sandy roads and
salt-marshy byways.