LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIV, Issue 2489, 29 March 1882, Page 4

LITERATURE.

THE OLD FISHERMAN'S OcUtISTMA.9.

An affecting littlo story io told in The current " Sunday at Heme." We are introduced to James Williams, an old fisherman on the Lancashire coos'-, on Christmas Eve, as ha and his wife were lamenting the "hard lines" of tha latter years of their lives. The a-.thor saya:—Their lot in life had indeed been a hard one. Twelve years before, James had been a prosperous man in a small way—the owner of a tight fisbingomack of his own, and blessed with five till sons, whoEe sturdy lirnl>s it would have been difficult to match. Then his misfortunes began, and for yeirs he hod nothing but; misfortunes. Hia three eldest pons were all killed in thopamo colli?-y explrsioo ; another was carried off by a fever : and John, the youncest the favorite of both hia parents, had " taken to bad ways," being suspected of a theft, and at last drowned while working his passage to .America. Then there were bad seasons —his smack became too rotten to venture out in—and finally, in saving a child that had fallen from the pier, he broke his arm. ') hen at last Jnmcs wm forced to work once more at a common fi herman of the poorest kind, and now, as we have seen, even th's resource was failing him. To have t» learn a new trade at seventy, and with only one arm serviceable, and the burden of a wife who was always ailing—was there anyone whose gaze into the Chiiatmia fire revealed a bleaker prospect than James Williams? * What must we do? What can we do, Jim?' moaned the old woman, as she rocked herself backwards and forward* ; * ah, Jim, if but one of those fine lads had lived,' and she burnt Into tt>~.ra.

•I was just thinking the some thing myself, lass,' said the old man with unusual emotion and hastily dashing away some moisture from bis own eyes; 'but I'll tell you one thiDg we must do; we must jast pat our trust where we always have done. He will not try ua above whit we shall be able to bear.'

Then afraid of making a farther display of his feelings, the honest old tar snatched wp bis weather-beaten cap, and hutrried ofi with -some herriogs which ho had promised to take to someone in the little town hard hy- . , When James reached thetawn of Tidesley, as we choose to call it. he found more persons in the streets than he expected to sea on so stormy a night, and he soon hejrd that a ship had beun driven ashore in the bay about an honr before. Af;er leaving his fi*b, therefore, he went to the pier to look at the wreck. The wind had partly pone down, blowing now only in occasional gnats, but the sea was still a roaring, angry, heaving mass of white f o»m, as far as the eye could reach. It was very cold on the pier, and the spray dashed over it now and then ; hut near the «>nd were several groups of fishermen, some deep in Oiin'ultition, and othern watching the ship, which, howaver, could only be seen when the moon broke for a brief and occasional instant through the driving clouds. She lay a mile from the pi-r, and on a very shoal called the Chu*n, which a hidden belt of rooks mide doubly formidable.

'Now here is Jim Williams, and I nsk him if any boat could livo in suoh a sea. Wbat do yon Jim ?' asked a middle-aged fisherman, as James advanced to one of the gronps. 'Yes, we'll stand by what James say,' cried another, ' Jim, soma say, • Stay, while you're safe;' and some say, 'Try is;' but don't you think we might reaoh her with oaro.'

James, thus appealed to, gsve a long look round before he answered.

' I don't know lads.' he said at last; 'it is a fearful risk, the Churn on a night like this.'

1 Come now, Jim,' Bald another;' you have been on the < barn on a wcrao night than this, or oar old matea tell me lies.' ' Ay, in it an American ship, the Florida ; but I wbb younger then, Matthew, and I realiy don't think the breakers were quite an rough that time ' replied the old man, shaking bis head ; 'as it was, it was the meroy o' heaven that we were not all drowned, like the forty a a von poor Yankees we could not rescue But you want my opinion for tonight?' 'Yes, Jim ; if you'll go ; and if you won't, we won't—the poor beggars must drown, that's all,' they cried. Jamea considered anxiously an bane that might involve suoh f ital consequences. Bis heart leaped np to save the unfortunate wretches ou the chip, hut how if the attempt only ended in himself and a dozen of the brave Tidesley lads being drowned as well I He thought of the wail of mothers, widows, and orphans, which tbere might bi in Tidesley next day, and he thought ton of his own poor Bessie sitting alone, old and helpless ; what would become of ber if this new misfortune happened ? Well might he watch the state of the sea long before he spoke. But as he still hesitated, a young man stepped up to him from one of the groups, and tapped him on the shoulder. ' Jim, yon were cent,'said the newcomer; ' I wos juat telling them there is no man in Tidesley who oan steer a boat on the Churn to-night but you ; and here you are !' James had much of the old Paritanio foeling with regard to special call* and interpositions, and this voic j at his elbow decided him.

* Well, then, mates,' ho said; ' I will go with you ; I think it jusb possible that we may reach ber. My arm is not worth much, hut I think it will hold out in a case like this, and poor Besiiie must take her obanoe.'

The boat was soon launched and filled with twelve bravo f-jllowa, the old man steering. Load rang the shout of the boat's orew above the roar of the sea, as they stood to their oars, and watched for any sign of life on the grinding hull. Two men only answered to the call end jumped into the water iiear the boat, iato whioh thoy were speedily dragged, 'There is no ono left on the ship now,' oaid one of ths poor rescued men in a voice faint with exhaustion, ' except one man tied to the rudder post, and ho must be dead; for we shouted to him as we saw ycu nearing us, and he never answered. All thereat aie overboard '

' Then pull away mates,' cried Matthew Johnson ; ' the wind is getting up again, and we have done enough and to spare.' * Nay, Matthew,' cried Williams firmly ; 'as we have risked so much, we will rbk a little more. I never yet left half my work undo do. and we'll see whether that poor fellow is dead or alive.'

There were some murmurs in the boat, but they obeyed the old man when he ordered them to pull towards a loose rope which Me practised eye had detected hanging from tho ship's side. The vigor of his yonth ssemed to come back to him as he caught hold of the end, and swung himself on to the deck. Then he hastened to the rudder post, and cutting the bit of rope that fastened the body of the poor wre'.ch to it, bore it off in bis arms, without waiting to sea whether he were alive. A furious sea, that broke over the wrock at this moment, daahed him and Mb burden overboard, but fortunately near the boat, and they were palled in. 'Now, lads, away with a will I' ciied Wi'liams ; ' another sea like that will make a change in her."

He was right. Before they had gone a cable's length tho sea, aa If angry at losing Hb prey, t eared itiell up as for a mighty effort. The wrock staggered wild'y to and fro—then when thi>y lcokod again thero was nothing to be seen but the wild waters. ' Doesn't it look as if the oid craft had just been waiting till we did cur business ? ' whiepered ono of the crew In awe to Williams ; and with no little thankfulness at their narrow escape from being carried down with the hull, the brave crew pulled back to the shore, where they were received by the crowed with bursts cf cheering and many a warm shako of the hand.

A dozen cordial invitations to food and shelter were showered on the rescued mariners, and Dr. Griffiths, who was waiting on the beach, pronounced the man whom Williams had rtscued to be not dead, but only insensible with fitigue, and he would come round in an hour ot two. After hearing this, therefore, ar.d seeing that tho three men would be well cired for, James hurried back to his own cjttage to chance his wet things, and relieve Bessie's anxiety at his prolonged absence * Ay, ay, Jim,' said that inveterate grumbler, when her husband told her what he had been doing; 'it fits you to be going and risking yourself for other people. When ynu have nothing left but your life, you matt try to fi'ng that away too !'

' Well, my lifo is not much use now, Bessie, except to yon,' ho answered. Some three hourj bad elapsed since Jams i "Williams came home, but on this night. neither of the old people wore inclined to retire early. However, j'.isfc as they were beaming to think it bed time, a loud knock came to the door. ' dome in.' Bald Williams, rather startled by so lata a visitor; and there entered a young mnn, dressed in sailor's y arb, much torn, and with a long beird arid pleasant looking face * I could not sleep without coming and thanking you for my life,* said thes'raDger, advancing up to James and taking his hand cordially ; * I am the man you cut from the rudder post of the .Nancy a bit since, and I'm all right now, yon ace. I h<;ar that if io had nut been for you 1 should hive stayed on the ship ti 1 she went down.' * Why, Bir, I am sare you are welcome to anything I did, Wo ought to help each other at a pinch, you know, Bir.' * N»y, sir me no eirs,' said the other laughing ; ' I am only a plain eeaman, as you i ee,~ and a somewhat ragged one just at present. However, in return for my life, I think I can tell you a bit of news y«.u will be glad to hear.* ' What is that?'asked James.

* Well, about yonr s >n John,' rep ied the man ; ■he <Ud not behave well to you, I be lieve, but I have seen h'm ' 'My son John is dead.' gasped the old man; then he and hin wife looked at the stranger in anxious silence—fearing leet the new born hope should be dashed away. 'He ii no mora dead than I am,' replied the young fellow ; ' but he would have been dead this nly.ht except Io: you, old man. i.ook at me ;' and he advanced into the full blaze of the firelight. Bessie gave a scream, and in another moment had recognised her ton, and wan in his arms Who can describe the joy of the old couple as they became convinced of the trntb of this strange reeurrection. ' Yes, father. I have ome to the old place, yon see,' said John laughing ; ' aud I hope I am somewhat wiser than I was when I went away. I was picked up on a spar by a pasting ship whon you thought me drowned ; and said I, ' They'll not care to hear cf me till I'm a rich mao.' So I never wrote. But I've been all over the world now- Australia, California, South America, Indies, East, and West, and where not ? - and you must not think I am quite as wild as I u> ed to bo —though I was never as b.id as they made me out to b?.' * No, indeod. Johnny,' Gaid the old woman ; ' and Mary X eano did not think you were elthor.' * Mary ! —and is B"e really MaTy Deane still ? ' asked the young man in some excitement.

' Ay, lad, and all for the love of you —she stood up for you against all, but go and fetch her, James, and let her answer for harsilf,' answered the exulting mother. James accordingly fetched the young woman, who was the daughter of a neighboring fisherman, and a merry night they had of it.

* But, Mvry,' said John, as they sat in a sly corner by themselves. ' will you marry me in such rag! as these ? ' ' The clothe 3 don't make much difference, John, she replied. ' Bravo 1 You are a Jars after my own hearr, ard--don't talk to me—we'll have a wedding to-morrow,' replied John, kissing her gratefully ; *as to rags, why here's what will buy us something better.' And he laughed as he threw j'ng'ing on the tarda a heivy belt filled with coin. ' Ha, ha 1 father I haveu't b.= en at ths diggings for nothing, you see. The e are two thousand yellow boys in that belt, and you did a good turn for yourself as well as mo, when you took mo off the Nancy. While I and Mary have a ro. f over us, you and mother fchall have the warmest corner, old man ' And the Tidesley balls next day rang their merriest for the wedding.