The Island Bride — page 94: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CAST AWAY. _ by his fond mother from the mountain reeds and the threads ‘, of the cocoanut. A hat made of thin twigs and long grass,’ _ hraided together, protected his head from the rays of the sun. sea-shore or rolled laughingly down the grass-covered sides of _ the valleys. | He was a stranger to fear. One morning, during a heavy gale of wind, he rushed into the sea, and shouted gleefully, ag the waves carried him away upon their lofty crests. His mo- ther, obeying her first impulse, would have sprung after him, if Harmon had not gently pushed her aside and dashed among. the roaring waters. Striking out toward the child, he soon succeeded in reaching him; but to return to the shore was im- possible. The “seas” carried him rapidly to the reef. Then he plunged both feet into acrevice among the rocks, and firmly holding the child with one hand, seized a bunch of weeds with the other, to which he clung desperately. He feared every moment that the roaring, seething waters would either wash him from the reef, or cause the weeds to become loosened upon the rock so that they would give way. Suddenly, how- ever, he beheld his skiff, guided by his daring Lttle wife, ap- proaching with a velocity that made him shudder, for it was impossible, he thought, that the little craft could escape being dashed to pieces upon the rocks. Bracing himself firmly, he waited until a “ counter-sea ” came booming over the reef, and then sprung toward the boat, holding the child high above his head with both arms. With wild eyes and pale cheeks, the mother leaned forward to seize the precious burden, and had nearly grasped it when a sea rolled over the heads of father and child, hiding them in its watery folds! She pressed her throbbing brow with both hands; her brain whirled; a half stifled shriek of agony rose to her lips: she believed both hus- band and son were lost forever! The next moment, however, she saw Harmon’s hand clutch the bow; above it rose the head of her child ! “Thank God !” she screamed, and darting forward, pulled the loved form of the little Harry into the skiff Harmon followed a moment later. He scized an oar, and by skillfully working it, turned the boat’s head away from the reef. “The rope! the rope, dear husband ?” cried his wife, “all you , . COMiIcooOoks.conn *