The Cooperstown courier. (Cooperstown, Griggs Co., N.D.) 1902-1913, 1903-03-12

. .4i, Va
Jean-Pierrc, the Norman fisherman,
had given up his seafaring life to
watch over the baby girl whose love-
liness had grown with each added
year. q M .s5
There had been times when jean
Pierre missed the dash of the salt
spume of the North sea in his face,
and the roll of its pillows under the
keel of his boat, and the boat songs
of his companions as the feet sped
onward to the fishing grounds.
1t was for that reason he had Sc
lected the isolated house on the bat
ture, around which the river spread
in foaming sea one day when, leav-
ing the big ocean liner, with his
brown-eyed girl in his arm, he
walked along the leyee, feeling q
stranger in a strange land.
1t often happened that sDel," as
'Jean-Pierre lovingly called her, was
left alone with old Marie. their one
servant, until late hours of the night,
sometimes for several days, while
Jean-Pierre ran down to the gulf
for better fishing, or to work with
the oyster goelettes. Z 's<''5
In the summer time the willows
were bright and green, and the bat
ture animated, and Delphine sang her
plaintive Norman songs, read and did
pretty work and played on her man
dolin, and she and old Marie were
contented and happy. "
But on this cold, bleak December
afternoon, when the swollen tide
washed sullenly against, the levee,
dashed in little wavelets against the
steps and rustled the willows sigh
ingly, old Marie took to chanting
cantiqued in dull monotone, while
attending to her household duties, to
drown the moaning of the wind, and
Delphine, in spite of her books and
CHEEKY fire, felt distinctly dull and
forlorn-for Jean-Pierre would not
come home until the next evening.
On the other side of the river a
young man stood impatiently urging
boatman to row him across in a
skiff which looked like a child's play
thing as it swayed and rocked on the
edge of the broad expanse of turbid
water. gsF
'Now, look here, must get over
to the city. That boat is all right.
Get out your oars and name your
price, said Hugh Compton, stepping
in and sitting down and taking hold
of the tiller.
The man, thus urged, looked up at
the sky, pointed to the clouds sour
rying over from the north, and with
shake of the head, got in, united
the rope and pushed off.
A gust Of wind dashed % handful
of rain in Hugh's face, the sliff rode
and danced, as the current, catching
it in its strong grasp, swept it furi-
ously along, paying very little heed to
the vigorous strokes of Ben Barton's
long oars. m . .e,ss, .@s.@
When well out from the shore
Hugh was better able to understand
the boatman's reluctance to make
the crossing. @
It was wild and tempestuous
night, and when the frail boat was
fairly in the current of the, stream
the sweep of the wind was terrific. 81.
Hugh had an engagement to call on
a very pretty woman, who was just
at that time specializing as to
whether or not the increasing storm
would keep him away, while. adding
"a few last touches to her elaborate
and artistic toilet.
Dorothy Cameron decided that he
certainly ,would come, in spite Of the
howl Of the wind, deadened3 by the
thick walls and heavy curtains, nor
was the black gloom of the night at
all appreciable, in the brilliantly lit
room, for Dorothy Cameron lived in
one of the .handsomest houses on the
avenue. E " 4e@si
Yes, there were strong reasons why
he should call that evening, Dorothy
thought, with contentede smile,
while contemplating her rosy, well
polished nails, and the glitter of her
rings, as she stood before the fire.
place in the drawing room. Ri
The bell rang and caller was
ushered in, but it was not Hugh, and
while chatting Of the mid-winter CO.
tillon, carnival balls and the latest on
dts and engagements in the world
fashionable, Dorothy's 2 lear. was
strained to catch the sound of the
closing of the hall door. Others
dropped in, for Dorothy was social
leader; evening waned, but Hugh was
not one of them. Dorothy was fever
ishly gay, and brilliant color made
her more lovely than usual, and no
one could possibly guess, that hid
behind her wit and laughter, there
was a keen distress, Tor after those
whispered words in her box at the
opera last night and the permission
granted to- call lie so significantly
solicited, surely she had, the right to
expect the words she longed to hear.
From others they were irksome.
But Hugh-well, Hugh for this fasci-
mating and brilliant social light was
the one human being who could fill
the world with joy Without him
Dorothy waited with growing an
l