Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1898-02-13


s-ooning clouds; gulls swooping here
I'll taare upon the wing; and the soft,
4u swell Of the wayewash On the
shoro.
r.s twilight was fading into dark
ress a light mist lay over the flats;
and the curfew uttered his wild cry
rse 4 lost spirit wandering down the
wind. The gloom was too deep for
either trees or houses to be visible; but
light or two that shone in the dis
lance showed that human habitations
were within reach. Still. it was a wild
SHOT. that shingly beach, dotted here
and there with windblown bushes and
scattered driftWood-a spot where few
would have cared to linger after dark,
except those who had been familiar
with it from their youth.
viii Burnham knew every inch of
that dangerous shore; its creeks and
currents, It's oozy fats, and its treach-
er0us quicksands; he and his brother
Ben had been turned out to play upon
iJ as soon as they could walk alone,
and BIT the time that few years had
passed over their heads they had pene-
rated its inmost secrets. They would
have walked blindfold over it by night
or day. and they loved it not only as
their home, but as the source Of their
worldly prosperity The sea yielded its
Gsh to their nets, and the marsh it's
gd-iowl to their guns. Theirs was a
hard life-a life OF struggle and danger
but they would not have changed it
lor any life under the sun.
VIII Burnham was the younger of
TIE two; broad-shouldered we'll
tuilt man, with sunburnt face and
merry grey eyes; his brother Ben was
darker in complexion and smarr in
build proud of his superior wits, and
somewhat given to depreciating the
bodily strength in which he was lack
Ing. Yet, the two were good friends,
and VIII was not more honest in any
thing in the whole of his honest
young life than he was in his admir-
alton for Ben. But tonight, for the
first time that he could remember, he
was glad to escape from his brother;
and. having finished his work he sat
modify on a piece of wreckage that
lay upon the shore, instead of going in
to get his supper.
When VIII first discovered that Ag-
mes Harmer's eyes were blue, he new
er thought that the fact would be one
Of permanent Importance to him;
but from liking TO rest his gaze upon
them he learned by degrees to love
the soul that looked out of them, and
at last he woke up to the knowledge
that she was dearer to him than all
the world beside. VIII was not ready
Of speech, however, and his secret re-
NAMED locked in his own breast
hidden, perhaps, with more care from
his brother than from all the rest of
The world for he could not bear any
ridicule on such a subject. He must
try to win Agnes by all the means in
his power and when once he had
gained his hearts desire, he should be
strong and bold enough to face all the
world
This was his cherished hope; and
now to-day, when he and Ben had
been cutting reeds side by side in the
marshes, Ben had picked a wild blue
flower that grew among the grass and
put it carefully in his buttonhole.
What's that fOr?' asked Will,
struck with surprise at the unusual ac-
ton.
For Agnes" said Ben; tits just
the color OF her eyes"
win Strengthened himself up sud-
denly and looked at his brother, while
tire hot color flushed over his face.
What do you man." he asked.
Il mean that Agnes belongs to mel"
said Ben, a glance from his keen eyes
revealing to his bewildered companion
that the secret OF his own love had
been guessed
Not another word passed between the
two as they finished their task. The
long day wore YEARLY on, and as soon
as work was done Will walked away
by himself over the desoate shore,
while Ben hurried off in the direction
Of Mrs. Harmers cottage. He was 60
Ing to Agnes! The bitterness Of the
thought was more than Will could bear
and tlinging himself down on the beach
be gave the rein TO his misery.
II was quite dark now; and dragging
himself up at last, Will made his way
oyer the single to the little wooden
house that he shared with his brother.
Ever since their parents death they
had lived there together, and VIII had
|ANNAl tIlOuS5ilL INV SNGCL II NOulu De 10
have the gracious presence of the
woman he loved to turn their house
into home But the woman he had
dreamt Of had been his wife, and not
Bens; and the thought came back to
him now with all its sweetness chang
I'd into gall.
He fully expected to find the room
empty when he pushed open the door;
but to bis surprise, Ben was standing
BY the wondow
Here you are at last" he said, look
ing round at the sound Of the door.
viii muttered something unintelligi-
Die and made step towards the stair
ease, but his brothers next words ar
rested him.
Uncle Jacob is dying" he said,
I'VE been hunting for you every
where, for we must go over at once"
Jacob Burnham had lived for the
whole of the 20 years of his life in the
same farmhouse, and his eccentric
L~oits had caused him to be stunned