The Nezperce herald. (Nezperce, Idaho) 1900-1957, 1909-12-02
CHAPTER L

You know Alastair2 No-how SHOULD
Jour Very few people know 1t, and
have done my best to keep the secret &c
myself The place lies. however, not SC
very far from great cities on the Allan
tic coast You take a train northward
from Boston, and when you reach the
proper station you alight and climb into
countryman's wagon, and be drives you
through the pines BY a twisting. sand
built road to Alastair- You viii know it
because you can go no farther. unless you
choose to drive into the waves
Few people come to Alastair. Most
Of the travellers IN this part Of the world
turn of about a mile inland from the
beach and go on for another mile and
bali to the Penguin Club. The latter Is
full Of New Workers who come to the
pines and the sea to hunt and fish and
forget Wall Street and Fifth Avenue.
They forget 1t by keeping close together,
and dressing for dinner, and dancing
every other night
Alastair itself Is only beach between
two great headlands- From the end
where my cottage stands, snugly hid in
the pines on the edge of the dunes. the
beach stretches smooth and white to a
little land-locked harbor at the farther
end Sit on my porch and look down
along the sands to the east and you
will see a reef Of rocks shaped like the |
letter . that closes In a little salt water 1
lake with the aid Of a distant cliff II /
Is not quite a lake. rather a small IN
land sea, for the tides have room 10 ebb 4
and flow. A ship is settled into the
sands Of this sea. settled upright. so
that one may walk the decks, and 1
often go there of an afternoon when the
tide is low and climb on board. 1t Is
good place to sketch. and l can leave
my paints and canvas in the cabin.
stumbled across Alastair when / was
looking for a quiet place In which to
write. ! found the dilapidated cottage.
camped In 1t for a week, and fell 30 much
In love with the beach that I went 10
town, bought the house and part Of the
woods, and moved In. Charles, the man
who had served my father before me. de-
INJURED at first. but finally gave in, and
turned himself into cook, housenaid. and {
ralet for my sake 8
From my balcony I can see the distant {
rocks Of the little inland sea and, stand o
ng up above them. the high sides Of the '
hip. and its single remaining broken s
mast pointing straight to the heavens. G
Sometimes the stars seem to outline y
where the missing spars and sails should G
'e, and on a bright night can half close j
ny eyes and fancy that I see the rigging Il
ighted and lanterns burning on the quar-
er-deck tc
There Is history hidden IN that bat b
cred hulk. She Is no ordinary vessel. a
nd may once. for all know, have baeu I'll
pirate craft. She has the long clipper W
mes Of swiftness. and her high, buIeinz in
ow is Of type long past. When / ey
rst came to Alastair / made INQUIRIES an
> to her history, but the Oldest farmer he
'uld tell me only that she had always to
cen there 50 far as he knew, and dis vi
Used the subject as Of no Importance. br
be people Of the nearby country ap- sn
Jared never to have boarded the casta- to
ay. / felt the joys OF Crusoe when I esi
st climbed on her deck. The name lii
as gone, long ago washed out By the 10
a; the deck was bare, and the top Of tbs
Q forecastle choked with sand. I tn,
ought shovel and dug away the ram FOR
IT drifted against the matches. At 1t
It could open the door and, clearing en-
, steps Of what little sand had siftsd roc
rough, l descended into the cabin. 1t my