The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1897-11-25
THE BELLE OF THE VILLAGE.


street with quiet, independent air,
and feignedly unconscious that all
the manageable girls are looking out
with envy, and all the youths with
love; tripping along toward the sea-
shore, pretending not to see Fred
Wilson, the young farmer, as he half
reins in his stout cob to bow as he
passes, and to walk by the retiring
waves for an hour on the hard. firm
sand, with little coquettish soup.
plate straw-hat upon the top of those
wanton tresses, floating down and
half covering a charming little figure,
every golden hair being a very chain
dragging some poor heart at its end.
| Not bad soliloquy. that for an old
bachelor of five and forty, down by
the sea side for the benefit of his
health and to get his broken wind
mended. | had just turned out of my
lodgings, and was following in the
wake cf the fair craft, Amy Ellis -
when at Rome we must do as the Ro
mans do; and being in a fishing vii
lage full of amphibious farmers, of
course felt it incumbent upon me to
talk sea slang. which of course [ did
very badly and out of place. L was
soon down upon the sands among
shingla, dog fish, aEd skate eggs. star
fish, and jelly fish, and the stranded
shells of many ship wrecked cookies
/ was not surprised upon reaching
the shore to find that Fred Wilson
had made circuit, and crossing the
sand bank, had reached the spot
where Amy was walking, and was
now by her side, leading his horse by
the rein. The sight put me in mind
of score of years before, of moon
light walks, of evening rambles, ard
Wild flower gathering, and l felt lath
er lonely as [ thought of years slipped
by, never to return, buried hopes and
fears; and looking far out to sea at
the pallid rising moon, l had gone into
deep fit of musing, living the past
over again, and wondering as to the
future, when my chain Of thought
was broken by the heavy thud of Fred
Wilson's horse as he cantered up to
me- In minute he pulled up at my
side, and [ was about to ask after
Amy when l saw the last futter OF
her ribbons, aud the last wave of her
beautiful hair as she stepped lightly
through the gap in the sand bank.
Something was evidently wrong, for
Fred was looking most fearfully blue.
He was favorite of mine. for [ used
to set him down as the beau ideal of
bluff young Saxon farmer, aud by
way of cheering him up. / pressed
him to sup with me, perhaps rather
selfshly, for it would help to cheer
me up, too.
l could see plainly enough what
was the matter, and | had to use a
great deal of persuasion before l could |
gain his consent; but L carried my
point, and an hour afterward we were
chatting over the fire. smoking some
capital Havanas which 1 had brought
down with me, and drinking some
brandy and-water, the essence of
which had never paid duty, and under
whose influence Fred had become
communicative. He was in love, and
Amy was a jilt-a fiirt; he was half
mad, he said, and nothing would give
him any satisfaction but breaking the |
heads of Harry Henderson and few
others. But he would not do that; he |
would leave the place for good, that |
he would.
And so days and weeks rolled by,
and my stay had almost reached it's
fullest limits.
l had only another day to spend at |
Delsthorpe, and felt rather reluctant
to part from the quiet village and the
hospitable friends l had met with. / |
felt, TOO, that l should regret much |
The salt sea breeze which had given |
me bank my health-richest pearl
that the sea can produce My last |
was a 5ete day-"Delsthorpe Dane
ing" day annually looked forward |
to as the reunion of friends and rela |
tions. The parties in some of the |
farm houses mustered rather strong |
ly, and it fell to my lot to be under
the same roof as Amy Ellis and Fred
Wilson. Cross purposes were rife;
flirting was in the ascendant, and a
dark cloud lowered over Fred's brow,
growing blacker as the evening wore
on,
At last, tired of the heated room, l
made my escape to enjoy an evening
walk upon the sands, and had hardly
reached the intervening bank when I
started as a heavy hand was laid upon
my shoulder, the thick sand having
untitled the footsteps of my follower.
| found on turning that it was my
young friend Wilson, and I could just
see by the dusky twilight that he wore
anything but pleasant aspect. |
knew his complaint so we'll that /
would not revert to it, but pulled out
my cigar case, and, lighting up. we
climbed the sea bank and sat down in
silence. 1t was warm, close, heavy
autumn night, thick clouds hung
overhead, and the darkness was fast
closing round. The sullen wash of
the water upon the piles, and the
constant heavy roll of the waves upon
shingle added to the gloominess of
the evening, while sighing breeze,
which kept coming in puffs and dy
going weather wisdom to portend q
storm. As the waves broke upon the
shore their crests seemed, as 1t were,
on fire, aud the phospherescent light
wore the appearance of the tail of
some huge rocket rushing along the
sands. Fred's thoughts were evident
ly with the party We had left, and he
smoked on in silence, while | watch
ed the peculiar phenomenon before
me. At length l broke the silence
and said. rs not this very much like
a storm comig on, Freds' But be-
fore he could reply a rough voice at
my elbow exclaimed, ''Storm it is, as
sure as guns is guns; glass has been
going down ever since one o'clock,
and that with this heavy tide and the
blow that's coming on, ] reckon we
shall have the bank pretty we'll shaw
| c1 hofora