Year: 1877

| breDton, though the wind blew the
words down his throat. 'fI shall leave
you in the tavern with Mr.. Charles"
said he to his wife. ''while I so down
and have lock at things" And pres
entity the little inn came in sight behind
its bulwark of sand hills, and they were
driving into the yard


But what desoIation was the inn and
its surroundings The sign and flagstaff
had been prostrated by the gale, and the
yard was a sheet of salt water, in which
all the debris of the place, the pigs, the
dogs and the buckets, were promiscu-
ously swimming. The piazza was under
water, the lower floor of the house was
also aioat, the underpinning of the sheds
and tie-ups had given way, and the
buildings were leaning to their fall,
while the old wind-whitened willows
looked like witches with their gown
tucked up as they stood IN tie over flow.
Mr.. Brenton drove close to the bulwarks
of the sand hills, left his wife in the
phaeton, and leaped out upon the sand,
climbed the low mound, and ran down
where the men had clustered and were
at work the best they knew to save the
wreck.


Standing up IN tho carriage, Mrs,
Brenton could see all that went forward
below, could see the broad breast of the
sea feathered 10 thousand plumes of
snow, while she felt the shock of every
surge of the boiling surf, and trembled
every time the great spouts of foam went
flying high as clouds where the ledge
ran out to meet the open fury of the
lashing pillows. She could see, too, the
dead pail of the sky lift, shade by shade,
as the wind went hauling round to the
south could see the parting of that va
por bank with the full puff from the
south, and the wreck, starting out like
sudden creation, black with it's ruin on
eIl that tumultuous gray and silver, still
slowly rising and falling and drifting in
with the tide. When she turned her
! head around she could see also the life
in the inn yard, in curious prosaic con-
trast to the tragic terror just beyond.
Not that you would call it everyday life,
because it was not every day that the
little pigs were swimming round III the
barn-yard, equelinga as the Newfoundland
swan after them and grappled an ear
it was not every day that the good tav
erner, Mr. Charles, was wading about
in his top boots, inspecting the general
rout, of only fraction OF which he was
yet aware, rubbing his hands and con-
Quoting himself as if to have one'shouse
and goods afoat was a little occasional
| eceentricity on the part of Providence
with which one must put MP. Then she
turned her head and saw the wreck
again, still drawing nearer and nearer
her dreadful doom with every throb of
the surf, while the men ran to and fro
upon the shore, and the red stars of the
rockets one by one went shooting out
i and falling short of their mark It
seemed to Mrs. Brenton that she could
even see the people crowding on the
deck; she fancied one figure was wo-
man with child in her arms, a woman
standing Just as she had stood on that
black, that horrid night, when the sea
snatched her darlings from her clasp.
An agony of pity overcame her as she
thought these people could probably see
her there in safety, while ceath was bel
| lowing for them. She sat down a mo-
ment and covered her eyes the sight
instructive prayer rose to her lips for the
safety of the wretches driving on so
surely to destruction before she knew
it she was praying for that mother with
the little child in her arms, was praying
with all her heart fer the little child.


OF sudden, as she sat there with her
eyes closed, there was shock as if the
sky had fallen and the earth had risen
to meet it,. She sprang to her feet and
saw that the wreck had struck, had struck
and parted, and wild, wild wall, cho-
ros of despair rose above the beating
of the waves.


Mr.. Charles waded out TO where The
phaeton stood up to it's floor in water, Oh
one side OF the yard, and handed her his
long spy-glass. As she steadied 1t and
gazed with aching eyes at the horror,
there came one of those mighty throes
of the tide when the whole sea seems to
be heaved from its bed; the parted
wreck heaved with 1t, far, far up cry
ike the ghost OF tie first cry was heard
sweeping out and away, and in another
moment there was nothing to be seen,
neither wreck nor people; they were as
utterly gone as if they had never been.


long, swift searching Of the sea, and
then Mrs. Brenton leaped from the car
riage to the sand, climbed the mound,
and ran down the beach as fast as the
furious wind that swirled her clothes
| about her would allow


Don't you see it 2" she cried to her
husband, breaking in among the knot Of
men who had been vainly trying to
launch tho life-boat. 81 have hardly
lost sight of it. There it is, to the left;
it is coming in fast, as if some great
sea monster were running under it.
Here take glass and you will see. 1t IS
a little child, dear, and its mother has
bound it in cradle, and it is tossing Oh
the waves Ike those tubs in the yard.