Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1901-04-03

On the morning IOilOWlnR TINS Hrst
night, the wind, now in the port quarter,
had so freshened that the stayssil and
outer lib were 'sstowedn and later the
.opsail. At noon the glass was falling
rapidly, and the captain ordered close
reefed msinsail, and soon the foresail was
also made snug, so that she was running
under three sails, and they were
shortened to their utmost. 1t was
gale, and increasing. To make
matters worse, it rained terribly,
aud to the clouds was added a mist on
the water that enveloped everything in
darkness. As night came everything
was carefully examined, all weak points
streugthen double watch kept for
ward, which was of but little use, for the
vessel was flying at a tremendous pace
through the utter darkness, but as yet
there was little thought of danger, ex-
cept from the possibility OF striking
another vessel or steamer.
scene. He was forward, but near William,
who did not let him get far away, for he
knew at any time sea might board the
vessel.
The boy, in a way, was full OF the wild
storm. At first, as he stood there trying
to see and do his duty, he thought OF the
home he was going to, OF the grave
father, who had read to him so much the
long winter evenings in the years past.
How much Of it he remembered! 1t was
largely history and travel, with occa-
sionsl lapses, such as Uncle Toms Cabin.
He did not realize then how much of it
had become his; probably the father did.
OF those evenings by the open fire, after
the chores had been done, and they all
gathered for the reading-his three
brot hers, two older, one younger, and
the mother, the dear mother.
1t was her thoughtfulness that kept his
hands warm tonight, but he had laughed
when she put the mittens freshly-knit
into his bag. His Joy at going home was
tinged a little with the fear of possible
harm that might have come to some of
them. He could not bear to think OF 1t.
Then, he thought OF what he might make
of himself He could not tell; he would
talk about It with his father when he got
home. He would like in some way to be
q speaker, II be could be good one.
The spring before he had been in New
York and an old high school teacher of
his had taken him at his request to Ply
mouth church to hear Mr.. Beecher. He
would never forget it. BY being a little
early and watching their opportunity,
L.
near the great pulpit orator. His father
had taken paper in which his
sermons were printed each week, and he
had come to know the man and feel
something OF the great, generous i'm
pulses and broad sweeping thoughts that
bore down the little technicaiities as they
went surging through the man. And
there he was. He listened entranced as
he scorned IN one case the bitterness of
some ecclesiastical body which had con-
demned a man for an honest dou bt of some
technical creed, and, also, when he plead
tor broader church charity, for the spirit
and not the form OF Christian life, and
the great preacher paused at the end OF
an hour aDd quarter which seemed but
lOlSut. ne uhu nSdIQ L llIiHS, hlSO, duu
it all captivated him. Then he fell to
watching and listening to the storm that
was pressing harder. He was behind the
foremost, little protected. The rain
had ceased in part, SO that the view WIS
not limited to SO small space. AS each
great billow rolled up, it sprawied out
into great sheet OF phosphorescent
ella
biackness.
The little vessel rose on the big waves,
then rushed headlong for space, then
gathering herself nobIy, lifting her bows
oht of this water which submerged them,
shaking herself clear, went on with the
struggle. The gale was increasing, every
one showed anxiety, all but the captain,
the lad and William. The latter logged
the steps OF the youngster most literally.
The captain smiled as the noble vessel
cleared herself after each plunge from her
grave of water and bore proudly on. The
turmoil OF the sea, the creaking of spars,
the slappiDg of baiyards, the wild roar of
the wind in spsrs and rigging, the water
rushing across decks and boarding the
vessel, all OF the brutal raging storm that
would have engulfed vessel of less power
kept all conversation still, except the
orders Of the captain, passed on from man
to man, for every sailor was at his post
now, dressed in oilskins but wet to the
skin.
The lads place as forward lookout with
William had been exchanged when the
order was passed along: snake ready to
stow iib and mainsail, and heave to-"
The boy sprang for the bowsprit, but
William with a curse held him back, and
the others would not let him go-that
spar on which the iib must be secured was
as often under water as out. In moment
OF time, all sails but the reefed foresail
were closely secured, the wheel was put at
"hard lee" and the Queen, that a mo-
ment before was rushing homeward, was
drifting slowly to ieeWard, but with far