Evening bulletin. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu, Hawaii]) 1895-1912, 1904-11-08
SHORT STORY FOR
EVENING HOURS
MISS SILYER'S BIG ATTIC

IL was ON tne lNtn OF StDlsHlDSI,
1872, that the dispensary doctor from
Ballyberesford pulled down the front
blinds of the slated cottage and told
Miss Silver TO try and bear up. Miss
Silver tried, and did not find IL quite as
have been. So she ordered the deepest
gilded lettering from Charlotte
NJ Cav. Born ith Dec, 1881, Died 10th
Sept, 1872" on an extremely chOi c
red granite hcadstOne and she waited
until the 18th Of September, 1S73-a
clear day over the year-bcfOre she put
Or her crimson homcspun polonaise
once more. Her stcp.sistcr had never
| liked that poonaise. Lizzie felt a sud
! den wave Of freedom rush over her at
tine thought that no one would ever Oh
ijcct TO her taste in dress again.
| Charlotte had possessed all the vir.
tues but she invariably objected; she
had much rather you did not; she
thought II was utterly absurd-on prin.
Iciple, and straight through. Lizzie Sill.
Yer, younger softer. of different
strain, had Outwardly obeyed and in.
wardly chafed, through one.and.twenty
OF her one.and.thirty years. Now Char
lotte was gone, as the unlamented faith
er and bitterly mOurned mother had
gone long ago; and she, Lizzie, had had
q year to get over IT." and she could
wear anything she liked and the slated
cottage was hers and the big attic.
When she arrived at this point, Miss
Silver tied on her red-ribbOned hat
above her brown chignon, and went out
to think it all over on the rocks be.
low the cottage.
The cottage stood-stands still--in
| l-isnabeg: and Lisnabeg Is tiny fish.
| ing village nestled in the elbow.crook
up the Antrim headlands, just where
/ they throw their iron basaltic arms
about the curve of the stormiest\bay
on the MOyle. Landward, the village
t. invisible until one comes out on the
! cliff track right above its seven small
houses; seward, II giants upon the
darkness of the rocks like a clutch of
gannets eggs In an inaccessible crey.
ice. Salt-smelling heaps of weed spread
n satiny glitter above the very door.
steps of the cottages; the spray Of
bursting rollers, whirled across the
harbor bar, dims the window.glasses
with sparkling dust of the sea.
All day and all night long the roll of
the great Atlantic throbs like a giant
pulse in the strong, clear air. There
! Is no other sound in Lisnabeg, except
the chatter of the fsherpeople's chill.
dren, launching driftwood ships down
the shingle beach, or the low thunder
OF boat drawn up on the stones. A
Sleepy Hollow in a sleepless century
this gray gull's nest; and as II dozed
in its warm corner thirty years ago, 50
1t rests today.
tn" morning was one of those golden
? '...' , that only September brings
| C l... | gold In the air, one touch.
ed Il on the gilded rocks, one saw and
heard II, casting itself In tinseed foam
upon yellow.bronzed heaps of weed
The old To-. < fo" y ~ and color wai
upon Lizzie S;'ag tJla. { ...r, color
color! She lo,e /; ~ : Fuegian loves
the fire that is - god; as the white.
breasted gull loves the blue air in
which he dips and swims. Yet there
was little color within or without the
life of this northern woman-Orphan
of gray, oyer-worked Ulster curate
OF Scottish race; inhabitant of lone
| Ia NNinINr lanI Ia,
barely less poverty.stricken than her
own; other lives barely less fiat and
barren.
There were no great houses about
Lisnabeg. Visitors never came to stay
In the summer; the coast was too rug
ged and dangerous, and provided no
sandy beach for children. The school.
master and his wife, up beyond" the
dispensary doctor; the rector; one or
two farmers lowering on the debatable
line between small gentry and big ten
/ antry-these made up all the available
society for many miles around, in the
class to which the step-sisters instinc.
lively chung with the pathetic pride OF
their nationality. Lisnabeg itself was
hut handful of fishermen's matched
cottages; and the one slated cottage,
now owned and inhabited by Lizzie
Silver alone, was better than the rest
only in outward appearance. Within,
II had kitchen, back bedroom, used
as a parlor, a small upper bedroom,
and big, light, airy attic, running
across the whole front of the tiny
house, and facing to the west-nothing
more.
In the attic Charlotte McGaw had al.
ways slept, after the death of her step.
father and mother. Her few posses
sions were in it still, and Lizzie felt
unexpectedly dishonorable at the
thought of going over them and turn
ing them out as she meant to do this
afternoon. Yet-the year was up she
was out of mourning, she had kept her
resolution Of keeping the attic locked
for twelve months. No one could say