Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1897-12-30

He has turned his face and lis
steps away from the pool towsris
the moor, when q crlsh, followed
By awful cries, meet Die ear. T.ook-
ing round. hurrying towards tie
pool, he sees that the tallest youth.
in skating towards che shoxss.
grounded dangerous ipe lit cracked
and he Cell through. IIs i nor
straggling in the watsr--his head
above il, his hands battling With
the ice; whilst his brothers, hasten
ing to his rescue, seem in peril too.
The poor demented servant--a cow
ard, perhaps, BY nature--stands on
the shore. wringing his hands and
shouting.
AT a dozen athletic bounds Gray
has reached the spot. In another
moment he has thrown of his coat,
hat and ksapsack.
"Stephen Walter ! Falkland ~
he calls; "don't attempt that; I'll
come to Harry's rescue" Even
while he speaks be dashes his way
across the ice, goes through it, IL
in the pool; not moment too soon
the lad is spent. benumbed with
cold, 10 sinking.
"A Grave heart, Hafry-a haad
here-there, now. my arms arouad
you-bear up. I'm Gray. your ,yld
drawing.master.' Holding the Isa's
head above water, swimming DIX
teriously, battling with lac ice, in
an anxious moment or two he
has reached the shore. Having
needed Gray's warning. the other
boys are safe toe, and nov crowd
round.
Harry is not much the worse
says Gray, kindly, as the spent and
benumbed led leans on him an,a be-
gins to recover. "A near clsnce;
but a drop Of brandy. with 4 run
home, and q warm bath, will set
him all right. Walter, ftsel in my
coat pocket, You'll find my brandy-
flask; it holds but drop. bus it'll
do good So saying, whet the
flask ia found. Gray makes Harry
take So it holds, aud thcri hur-
ries him of home. 1
But you'll come, Gray,I says
Stephen, who is the n,rt eldest to
Harry, papa will never forgive us.
if you don't come. after saving our
dear Harry. We always liked you,
Gray, and we're talking Of yoIa this
very morning. Come on; iou'r
dripping like dog I
Thank you; ! want to be q
station by eight o'clock to- 3lght,
and at Leeds tomorrow; 60 | 4an't.
| have dry under garments u my
knapsack here, which can ci AMI re
in that fodder shed yonder. taood-
by, i want to cross the moor Iefore
il 10 too late.'
The moor, Gray! Why, iou'll
have q hard fight with the tnow.
Our shepherds report it very aeep.
But why are you tied for : few
hours p
Il have left Tubbs; taught too
fast for him; but il | reach Aeeds
By to. morrow ! may get q tutorahip;
for there wss an advertisement re.
lating to one in the last paperf So
run home, Stephen; I'll wrile to
you from thence
Gray does not stay for any rIply:
but, seizing his coat and knapshck,
hurries to the distant shell; he{e he
changes his shoes aud neither gar
ments, and then, to get warm. bets
of at o run, as soon NH lefIias
dressed and swung bis knapsac1 Jon.
Up the snowy road. by the mpor-
land crsgs, on the moor issel ia
vide, wild waste Of whEtened dkso-
laticn.
Yet some traffic through the gay
marks the road sufficiently for Il TO
be easy TO find, whilst the light stts
and the snow holds OF; so be ke1ps
on at q rapid pace; for the whd le
distance now to traverse 10 buI soike
six miles, and he 10 not withokt
hope that it will be easily effected.
But presently the snow drifts g5t
deeper, and battle him more ami
more at every step. The cloud
charged with snow bring day sudf
denly to close; and at last it be-
gins to snow heavily. "a though the
clouds had burst.
Still be kept his way, not with
out hope. But when the road be-
comes more and indisiinct, when