Wheeling register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1878-1935, 1897-09-20
FROM THE SEASHORE.
BY GERHARDr NIELSEN.

In one of our summer resorts the
October wind blew the people off the
boardwalks, and the famous summer
girl hacked her trunk and departed
with the other birds. The bathing es-
tablishment is closed. The wind has
been playing hide and seek with the
shutters and everything else with a
four-inch spike. The small hotels are
likewise deserted and the wind comes
screaming around the corner Some
times it sounds as if a thousand de-
mons were playing football with lot
of old tin kettles. The bathing houses
stand like lot of tombstones or mile
posts, numbered l, 2, 3, and so forth,
they, stand, so melancholy, thinking,
perhaps, of the treasures they have
had hidden within their four walls.
'Tis autumn. The leaves are falling.
Winter will soon be here. The birds
have flown to a warmer zone; only
few seagulls and crows have stayed
over. The seagulls will soon leave,
but the crows will remain with the
raven. The crows know their harvest
is near. Yesterday there was a wreck,
not far away; the crows are watching
the fishermen on the opposite side.
The fishermen knew the little ship
we'll. She had been on the sea but a
few summers, and she was as fine
body" as ever plowed the ocean; but
yesterday morning she lost her course
and anchor and the storm had thrown
her upon the rocky shore and left her
there in many pieces. Her captain had
been found with the crew on the shore
mile or so away from the wreck.
The fishermen in the little town nearby
had found there all in the early morn
iEg while the fog was yet dense, and
they had covered their bodies with an
old sail. The preacher had said few
words and hurried home to his break
fast and fireplace. But the ocean was
there and rendered her sons her last
farewell. The men said afterwards
that it had sounded to them like
thousand harps. touched to some soft
refrain; but then the music became
so wierd, strange and powerful that
they were almost frightened until it
ended in the sweetest lullaby, and the
men wiped their tears on their rough
coat SLEEVES and stood there a long
time looking down at their comrades,
and then out over the ocean until one
OF them broke the silence and said
well, that's the way we all live, I
suppose. We start cut with full sail
in the happy summer breeze with an
Choir and compass, and we are built
brand new from keel to topmast; but
some day, sooner or later, we lose both
anchor and course and find ourselves
battered to pieces on some rocky shore,
inn Coi1 C oiy,cf hn nd
as a wounded bird in a fruitless at
tempt to fiy-that's the way we all live
and end-when all the hopes of our
youth have fallen like branches from
the woodman's axe, and nothing else
left but the TRUNK. Amen:
1t was short sermon, but it was the
kind that those people wanted. They
felt that it was flesh of His flesh and
blood of His blood.
"There is one thing grander than
the ocean, and that is the sky; there is
one thing grander than the sky, that
is the interior of human soul"
By some mystic power I was drawn
back to the scenery Of the funeral of
the dead fishermen. In mounting the
cliff from which I had observed the
ceremony, I saw the tall form of the
one who had improvised the brief SER
mon. Had he been standing there
since? I have seen him again, and
each time in the same position-the
arms crossed. the cap crushed in the
grasp of his hand.
"You are reluctant to leave" I re-
marked one day.
Mechanically he turned his head. and
with a look that seemed to come from
another world, he said, slowly, en-
phatically every word:
1T does a man good, at times, to
IL OK death in the face"