The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1897-08-07

fession of my sore heart yesterday,
and put IL way. But l shall continue
to keep notes of my journey. 1t saves
talking to Aunt Elsie, IL nothing else.
We left Richmond about half-past
six last night, were all night reaching
Charleston, and now. in the sunlight Of
a morning so golden IL seems to have
been freshly coined in heaven, we are
hurryinC to Savannah.
The train rumbles through heavily
wooded country, past the great phos-
pirate beds where negroes bend at
work, along the very edges of cypress
swamps, within arms reach, it seems,
or the moss-hung trees and the wild
cane brakes, suggesting the solitude
and luxuriance of African jingles.
There Is no life visible except at rare
intervals lonely negro at a cabin
door, nothing modern or made by man
save our luxuriously appointed train
flashing over substantial drawbridges,
waking echoes in that dank solitude
that murmur of civilization. Thus the
day passes, broken only by the stop at
savannah, until with a snort and
shriek the train draws up at Jackson
vile, once so mighty now but a satel-
lite among the comets. 1t sighs of de-
parted grandeur, and days that are no
more. Few passengers alight. the ma
Jority going on to st. Augustine, which
place we reach as the sun is filling the
west with all the prismatic tints one
sees in a dolphin's back.
Night have added nothing to my
notes since our arrival here three days
ago. Now, as midnight steals on, and
l sit alone by the open window, / must
subdue the fever that dominates heart
and brain, and set down the salient
points of new and wonderful story as
they occurred
Or course, we came directly to the
Ponce de Leon. Surely that dead and
gone Spanish explorer. cavalier and
courteous senior, who sought for the
fountain of perennial youth in this
blossoming land. could have no more
delightful memoriam than this hotel.
Oh, the beauty of its gardens and
broad, fower-flled Spanish court!
who can forget the breath from orange
bloom circling around it in the sun
shot air, the sleep notes of distant
cathedral bells, the flavor of salt from
the acres of blue sea the thrilling
sstrains of the band voicing the fueral
query of "Nadty."
rs it more than life? Is it more than
death?"
The laziness, the rapture of it all
crept around me like a spell. Romance
was in the air, and 1 felt my heart
stir with the old pain of love.
Bobbie Lawnton was enough to dis
pei the exotic dreaminess. He was
waiting for us with his party. His
broad. shining with piJ
blase smile, surmounted by a. straw
hat of unusual proportions, beamed
upon us both. We were to be guests
upon his yacht. He was a millionaire,
and loved me. AS yet he had not told
me so, but he gave evidences of it af-
ter his fashion, and had confded the
state of his heart to several of my
friends.
80 dear of you to GOMEZ" he lisped.
We'll go out for a sail tomorrow af-
ternoon, eh?"
And we did. shall never forget that
first walk on st. Augustine's sea-waIl,
and the sight of the light-tower gleam-
ing white upon Anastasia Island.
After ALL" l thought, as, leaning
over the rail of the pier, 1 caught a
reflection of myself in white flannel
is joy in being young and pretty, with
fine health and soul enough to feel the
ecstatic beauty of Gods earth. Let
love fail as it will, one cannot be quite
unhappy while there are days all silver
and blue, all flutter and whisper, like
this"
out on the bay, where 1t was deeply
blue, the yacht was weighing it's anch-
mo no ORGY sIaxy 80 In
tween Anastasia Island and the pier.
We were rowed out to it, and soon,
with a good deal of laughter and chaff,
were safely aboard.
Bobbie was master of the craft, and
years of experience on the Sound and
New York Bay had made him skiliful.
We sailed away. The boat went light
as a skimming kingfisher; the breeze
just filled the sails; the air was as ex-
hilarating as the champagne cup
served on the open deck; the murmur
of the waves following the banjos
strains was like the accompanying
voices of hidden mermaids.
Who that saw me would have
dreamed of the unrest in my heart?
Who could have guessed that, as
chatted with Bobbie, my sick fancy
view with Rufus Darrow, and wonder
ing where in all the wide world he had
hidden himself from me?
Dinner was over, and we had gone
on deck again. But half an hour had
passed, when a surprise bore down on
us in the shape of a sharp, dry wind of
startling fury, which had sprung up,
1t seemed, out of the very moon we
ho tch in ha
fore. We looked at the sky. The stars
were hidden, and a smoky veil was
lashed across the heavens. We looked
at the sea. 1t was churning angrily,
| and the waves rose one above the 9TH
| er with a Kissing sound.
Bobbie bounded forward, his round
| face very pale in the lanterns light.
| he gave rapid orders in sea jargon to
the alert sailors, and in few moments
we'll directed confusion reigned.
"An go below" shouted Bobbie;
there's hurricane on us-be pre-
| pared"
Cant we get in?" cried one, in fear.
1T will drive us shoreward and that's
about the best thing Fortunately. we
are not far away We've been sailing
in a circle-St. Augustine is just
| ahead"
The boat went on, swept by the wind,
and after an hour of wear we were off
the lighthouse. 1t was impossible to
make harbor, and the danger of being
| driven on the sand-bars was now para
mount in all minds.
All night we were beating to and fro
on the seething waters. Never was
light so welcome as the ghostly dawn
| cd Of ho
this time the storm had sunk, and only