The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1907-10-03
BY NJ. A. Keeier.
Copyright, by Joseph B. Bowfes.)

are TWO young women, OF the nine
teenth century Understandable type;
the smart cut OF their cloth frocks
suggests Redfern, and their fine
bearing and conscious worth the
Thoroughbred. 1t is about ten o'clock.
It's all very lovely and peaceful
and serene, Lily" says the younger
of the two girls, with little weary
sigh. But l like it better in Aug
ust, when the bay is thick with yachts
and rowboats; in fact, to be sincere
with you, it has about as festive an
appearance now as the Desert of Sa-
Lara and think we were downright
daft to leave town so early this sea
SON"
Il am really sorry for you, Bertha"
replies the other, with an amused
look in her fine eyes. Let US give
the Pixie her first sail this season;
she will help to liven up the bay for
you"
The grieved look in Bertha's eyes
gives way TO radiant delight at her
sistsrs proposition, and in gay spir-
its they leave the balcony and are
soon on the pier in their white fan
mel yachting suits and tarpaulin hats
Of the jaunty sailor cut.
Lilly is the skipper, and Bertha the
deck hand-as her sister calls her
her duty aboard ship being to tend
the oenter-board, hold the sheet rope
when occasion demands, shift the bal
| full.
There is scarcely a ripple on the
bay, and the half dozen filmy clouds
| have now lost themselves in the blue
ether.
The breeze is steady and gentle;
the girls keep up a rafting chatter at
first. but the utter peace and quiet
seems TO have a subdued effect, and
soon the only sound heard is that of
the water as the pixies" sharp bow
softly cuts through it.
They sail on, but 1t is not long be-
fore the sail trembles and the eddy
that closes behind the boat Is hardly
| perceptible. Bertha" says Lily, at
last, we are going to be becalmed;
there is scarcely a breath OF air" She
| moistens her forefinger and holds 1t
aloft after the manner OF sailors.
Don't mention anything so mon
strous!' cried Bertha, dropping the
book she had been reading and now
fully alive to the situation. We shall
simply broil standing still IN this hot
sun Why, there's Robins island;
cannot We make it before the wind
| goes altogether?"
Not unless we row; and even then
l am sure you viii not care TO land
| there"
we may as well row TO the island,
after all, says Lily, presently, look
ing wistfully at the trees. There are,
probably no men there as early as
this, and we can rest In the shade
until the wind comes up"
So they took the brass-tipped oars
and rowed toward the shore. 1t looks
very cool and inviting; occasionally
| the sweet strains OF a birds song
reach the rowers as they paddle
! through the mirror-like water. II is
| slow and tiresome work, and after
much trouble they effect a passable
landing, and climbing the bank they
sit exhausted under the spreading
| bough OF large tree. There Is
high and heavy underground behind
them toward the interior OF the is
| land
Robins island is owned by a club
Of New York men, and is a hunting
ground. there being on it fine pre-
serves OF quail, etc
This lie almost an adventure"
pants Bertha, as she removes her hat
and brushes her damp bang off her
| forehead.
Hush" suddenly cries Bertha,
| holding up warning finger to her
sister, who eits some distance from
her, with her head leaning against the
trunk Of tree. She listens intently,
turning her head psrtly on one side
like bird, and then says, in stage
whisper; Would not 1t be too I'M
utterably terrible, II there should be
any men here, Lily! l am sure
| heard something like footsteps way
| back in the woods"
Your imagination is too active for
| comfort, Bertha; If you did hear any
| thing, it was probably rabbit; these
tall bushes are an effective screen for
us, even If any genus homo should
be abroad, which is unlikely. Now
please do not speak to me for ten
minutes; | am too tired to even
think" she closes her eyes and Ber-
tina creeps over to her and rests her
head in her lap,
There is a crashing in the bushes
not far from the girls, who have been
rudely startled from their short nap.
and they look with blanched faces in
the direction of the sound. Then a
deep voice suddenly calls out:
Hello! bingham; oh, say, come
here!"
There is another crash in the
bushes, then another voice exclaims
in tones OF astonishment:
by Jove! it's the Pixie II must
have drifted down. It belongs to the
Berkeley girls, you know; they have
a place at Shelter Island. linton.