The Washington herald. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1906-1939, 1915-11-11
BY ELLIS wAKEMAN.

When the Reliance dropped anchor off
Block Island during the maneuvers
around Newport and Point Judith. Tink-
ham appeared to have a settled melan-
choly descend on him.
Aren't you going ashore?'' he was
asked. but he shook his head and stared
at the treeless. golden outline of tho
island as II he wished he could shell II
from the South Light TO New Harbor
Il was ashore here last year" he an
swered darkly. There's nothing to see.
Fresh water ponds and summer hotels &"
Yet when he was left alone he did not
gaze either at the summer hotels or
inland where the fresh water ponds lay
with lilies dreaming on their still bOsoms.
Even from the deck OF the battleship he
could see the house. II stood In a curve
Of the shore line on a rise above the
beach. little white cottage all by it.
self. There were some fishing boats
drawn UP on the sand. Her father rIade
the run out TO the banks every day after
sword fish and Holsters YearningIy
Tinkham gazed and gazed, wondering IL
she was still there. II she cared whether
he was on the ship or not If
No. he wouldn't There was such a
thing as making a doormat of yourself
for the beloved's feet to tread upon.
His cheek could still recall the singing
slap she had given it. And all he had
done was TO flirt with her ever so little
down around the Old harbor docks one
morning. He had gone ashore to buy
some sea trinkets for Sue and Martie
back home in Illinois. polished swords
Of the big sword fish. little round prickIy
sea urchins. long chains of tiny shells
They'd think they were great back In
Tannersville. He knew just how the
girls and his mother would rhow them
to all the town friends and tell how
Tink was sailing everywhere and see
ing the world.
He hadn't told them about Deborah.
That was her name. Funny. sweet, lit
tie old-fashioned name. he thought, De-
borah Allan. She had been born right
there on the island, fifteen miles out from
the mainland. and to Tinkham she
seemed as sweet and rare as one of her
own island pond lilies the barefooted
boys brought in huge baskets to sell
around the hotels and docks.
All he had done that first day was to
look at her and say. Hello. sweetheart"
And she had cuffed him soundly. her
big. dark eyes ablaze with swift anger,
her little hand singing in its rebuke.
You boys from the ships think you
own the island the minute you land
here" she had told hinA And we're not
that sort"
She wasn't that sort" either A bit
of "Mandalay" had always made him
think of her in the long cruises later on.
I've heater. sweeter maiden in n
cleaner greener land"
She had boxed his ears. but she had
also all unw'ttingly given him a new
ideal of girlhood. and in his own way
he had tried to fit his standards Of life
to the new measure. The other boys on
board had pictures of girls they knew.
He had none. nothing but the memory
OF Deborah in her pink and white dress
and white sweater. her head banded
around with braids of dark hair. order
ly and glossy, her firm. dimpled chin
raised at him defiantly, her eyes full
OF condemnation and rebuke
Somewhere he had learned that she
played the organ up at little st. AIMS
by-the-Ses, and he had slipped into one
OF the back pews to listen to her just
for one Sunday. his ''neater, sweeter
maiden" Also. before the ships had
slipped away toward Newport, he had
found chance of meeting her father:
The old man had been busy caIking the
seams in his sailing boat and Tinkham
had spent all his morning one day helping
him and telling him stories OF navy life
His reward had come when Deborah
came down to call her father to dinner,
and they had met properly and rightly,
and he had held her hand in greeting.