The west shore., July 01, 1884, Page 216, Image 16

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THE WEST SHORE.
But it could hardly be said of Ethel that she was lazy,
for only an active brain could have found so much for
other people to do. She never walked a stp beyond the
gate of the new fence erected about the captain's house,
' made by nailing "shakes" to poles fastened to rude
posto of unsawn timber. This fence was an eyesore to
her when it was first built, but in a day or two its rough
noHH had disapjwared under a screen of shrubs brought
from the woods and transplanted in the night, which
grew, and blossomed as if they had never known any
other home. Pretty creeping plants were transferred to
hanging receptacles in the girl's sitting room, and went
on creeping and growing in graceful festoons about the
windows, whose ugly smallness was cunningly disguised
by dainty draperies of muslin and lace. Odd decorations
for the walls were fashioned out of woody curios brought
her by the half-clad children whose acquaintance she
had mode on the beach, and who now, instead of digging
their toes idly in the sand hour after hour, busied them
selves looking for and bringing to Ethel the hitherto un
noticed plants, shells, and even animals and insects, with
which use had made them ignorantly familiar, and to
which they had hitherto been indifferent She told the
children the right names ofthese objects, persuading to
the use of them instead of the strange nomenclature cur
rent among the untaught, and was delighted with the
. eagerness exhibited to acquirejinowledge of such things,
natural history and Iwtany coming before A B 0 to most
of them. She gave them .hints about cleanliness and
tidiness in dress, seldom directly, but often when solicit
ing aid in matters which allowed of careful oversight,
whereby she was able to teach without seeming to have
intended it No day passed that some of these educating
processes were not carriod on, though with little apparent
effort or design.
When the Sihvr Ilirh returned from San Francisco
in the middle of September she brought in her hold the
machinery of a steam sawmill, which was to be erected at
Port by Captnin Eliot and his partner, who accom
panied him, Howard Summerfiold. Summerfield was an
athlete, tall, broad-Hhouldored, straight with regular
features, a clear and fair Bkin, and blonde wavy hair and
beard, the tyje of a complete physical man, whose con
science and sensibilities were not too refined for his com
fort But when he hxiked down from his lofty height
into the brown, limpid dopths of Ethel Eliot's eyes for
the first time there was a something telephoned along his
nerves which surprised and confused him, Wing unoccus
tomed to tremors of any sort Perhaps the novelty of
the sensation pleased him; primps he thought by fnmil
iarity to overcome it At all events, he ouue almost
daily to Captain Eliot's house, not infrequently assisting
Ethel in irairting instruction to her pupils, suggesting
and even providing a blackboard, uion which he gave
examples in writing, drawing and arithmetic to the older
children, while Ethel rested, and the young ones, like a
brood of quail, scattered through the leafy ,Verta of the
forest in search of material (or another lesson.
"I never knew,M said Summerfiold one day, " that I
had a talent for teaching, even to the extent of showing
the difference between three jackstones and eight jack,
stones, or illustrating the principles involved in forming
the capital letters in writing. I am indebted to you,
Miss Eliot, for the discovery."
" Perhaps ignorance of your talents came only from a
lack of opportunity," Ethel suggested.
" I think it was more likely to have been from a lack
of incentive," returned he, quickly, in a tone which
caused her to glance up at him from her reclining chair
interrogatively.
" You see I am capable of self-examination," continued
Summerfield, with a nervous laugh, " and that I am in
the mood this afternoon. Why do not you question me,
Miss Eliot, concerning my motives? Am I not as worthy
of dissection as a mollusk ?"
" Would it not be better that you should tell me what
you choose?" asked Ethel, gently. "My capacity for
dissection may not extend higher than a mollusk, and,
besides, I should not fancy picking my friends to pieces."
" I am sure you would not; you are too kind and good
for that cruel pastime. But I will not tempt you by
directing your attention upon my spiritual anatomy.
'Let us close the exercises,' as the preachers say, by
reading a poem from Coleridge. May I select ? "
Then the tall, graceful, life and health abounding
man read with consummate skill and eloquence the ex
quisite idyl of Genevieve, sitting with his face to the
sparkling sea, and, when he had ceased, remaining mo
tionless and silent, with his gaze fixed upon the ripples.
What was it that came to Ethel in those few moments,
lying there weak and prostrate? A picture of what her
life ought to be a wild longing to be loved and to love,
a passionate protest against helplessness and self-renunciation.
The sweet tears that had sprung in sympathy
with the poet's picture and the reader's voice suddenly
turned bitter with the thought of the future and ite
losses, and her bosom heaved with convulsive sobs.
"Forgive me, Miss Eliot," Summerfield exclaimed,
remorsefully. "I should have remembered your weak
ness and your tenderness of heart Would it atone ever
so little if I were to confess that I could weep with you
for the mischief I have done ? "
His voice shook; he knelt and kissed the hands
pressed over the tear-stained face. . The electrio touch
restored her composure. A little bird of joy carolled in
Ethel's soul, and a new light beamed from the soft eyes
when a moment later she ventured to meet the troubled
gaze of Summerfield.
What did she see there to check the momentary exul
tation and repelTier, in spite of the sympathizing words
and act? Or did the doubt in his mind communicate
itself eloctricallytoJierB?
" Oh, thank you for your sympathy," she said, quite
quietly, ".and-please do not remember this scene. I
sometimes cry forKirke'sbenefitJbut never before dis
played my baby ishness tojinylone else." ' '
You may depend on me not to refer to .it, but to
forget iWthat might not be possible. Shall I send