Year: 1870

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To him. the howling gale and beat
ing storm without, were as the wind
and rain of another world. He heard
them not. He knew nothing of the
drifting srars and timbers and pieces
of wreck that came floating to III, shore
all night some with clinging cargoes
of breathing, yet half-drowned life
some with only freight of glastly
dead; some with not even that poor
load, but knottcd with ends Of rope.
and pieces of torn handkerchic from
which the owners had lost their Mold.
and sank forever in the boiling. foam.
ing sea. He heard nothing of the
crashing breakers on the shore below
saw nothing OF the beacon fires lighted
along the cliffs for the guidance OF any
boat that might be trugyling from the
vessel. toward the shore. Ii was not
story of that dreadful night, and of his
own rescue. Then they told him of
the dead mother whom the sea had
hurled piteously ashore, with her life
less infant clasped close 10 her cold
bosom, and her long hair sweeping its
baby face and of that other silent sto-
~ Of woman's love, where one, when
/ IN the heaviest Of the surf. aud almost
within reach of help, on looking around
| IN the glare of the bcacons. and seeing
that her husband had lost his hold up
on the slender spar that had thus far
borne them both, lei 20 her own grasp
also, and followed him To death with
out cry. Through all these things. he
slept IN peaceful Inconsistencies.
When he awoke, il was 10 light and
I life. The first object that met his open
ing eyes, was So unreal and beautiful.
that he doubted whether il belonged To-
Heaven or earth. At the window near
the bed, sat young and slender fig
ure, with faithful. frank blue eyes.
bending over some pretty work in
worstcd. Lovely as was the rosy beau
IS OF her cheek, yet was il surpassed
by the glory of her long and wundrous
hair which dropped downward upon
her shoulders j.. the morning sunlight
for the storm had broken with the
day-ir a ripping fall of glowing gold.
He gazed AT her in silence for several
moments before he could collect his
confused thoughts.


"liow long have you been here:" he
asked at length.


She left her seat. and came 10 his
side softly.


IA al
ter"


Yes. think so, except NV arm.
can't lift that. IL must be broken.
think. How came hcre:'


Father brought you here last night
Don't you remember You were thrown
on shore from the wreck


All yes, know Were there many
saved:'


Not many. Only three alive. they
say


Who are YOU:


Flora Grant. And you:"


Nobody


Haven't you name: she asked.
opening her blue eyes.


All my name. Yes: Arthur Roll
lesion. Now l think l will 60 TO sleep.
Please sit where can see YOU when |
wake.


She returned to her window again.
quietly, and resumed her work. Will
the patient fastened his eyes upon he r
with n gaze SO rapt, that one would
think her the last thing he was to look
upon this side the grave.


No one will care To hear the story Of
his long recovery of the dark, chaotic
days that seemed all dreams of the
brighter, pleasanter weeks that were
dreams, too, but cheerier ones of the
short and swiftly flying hours that
were painless at last, when he could
sit bolstered in one of Mrs. Grants
great arm-chairs, and watch Flora rs
she sat working in the sunlight at the
window. OF old Silas. lie saw little.
The weather-beatcn fisherman was sell
dom home during the day, and the
young sufferer was left to the gentle
ministrations of the old woman and
her daughter, more especially the lat
ter, who waited patiently upon him,
day after day.


And Flora, whose nimble fingers
were always knitting, quickly and sure
ly knitted Arthur Roileston's heart in
the web with her worsted, and Arthur
himself, who had nothing to do but TO
sit in his great chair, and gaze for
hours at her pretty cheeks and hair,
saw himself every momen. more hope
lesslv entangled among the brilliant
colOrs which her busy needles were
weaving together.


1t was a dreamy, langud day in Au.
gust. He was then able to walk about
little, with his broken arm in a sling.
and he sat with Flora in the little porch
before the house, where they could
look upon tine blue, deceitful sea, that
purrcd SO treacherously along the
shore beneath the cliffs. He had been
reading aloud from little poem BY
Fay:


THE wave: in calm weather, came tripping,
trippling,


Ripping up from the sea;
The flowers at The easement are blooming and
dying;


The smile on thy mouth. has ended in signing,
Es thou sitlest alone by ne sea.


But the mast Is OF gold and the snip is Of pearl.
And its saiis take the light, like the long amber


That droops from thy neck to shy knee
To insure her attention to the verse
which followed, he had droppe d his
hand upon Flora's, as her own fe II to
pick up the worsted ball from her lap.
but tho waves In rough weather came roaringly.
roarinGly.


Pouringiy up from the sea;
And the land echoes moan, .sWit thou 70 all alone
10 be tossed on the storm driven sea
Leav wing father mother. and sisters and brothers,
For . stranger thou never didst - ~