Janet of the Dunes

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Janet of the Dunes, by Harriet T. Comstock

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Title: Janet of the Dunes
Author: Harriet T. Comstock

Release Date: October 17, 2007 [eBook #22998]
Language: English
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JANET OF THE DUNES
by
HARRIET T. COMSTOCK
Author of Joyce of the North Woods, A Son of the Hills, Etc.

[Illustration: JANET. Frontispiece]

Grosset & Dunlap Publishers :: :: New York
Copyright, 1907, By Little, Brown, and Company. All rights reserved

LOVINGLY I Dedicate this Book TO CARRIE LOUISE SMITH.
HER FRIENDSHIP WAS, AND ALWAYS WILL BE, A LIGHT TO ME UPON MY WAY. THE CHART SHE SAILED BY WILL GUIDE MY COURSE AND BRING ME, I HOPE, AT LAST, TO THE HARBOR WHERE SHE HAS GONE.
HARRIET T. COMSTOCK. FLATBUSH, BROOKLYN, N.Y. June 15, 1907.

PREFACE
In this story of the dunes, the Hills and the Light, I have not attempted any character drawing, although on the easterly shore of Long Island there are many people who have retained, together with the plain old English names which they brought with them by way of Connecticut and Rhode Island, a simplicity and sturdiness of character not to be found elsewhere, I believe, so near the great cosmopolis, and which is worthy a place in song and story.
It has been my good fortune to mingle for many summers with these kindly folk, and particularly with a little group of gentle, rather bashful and silent men forming a crew, with their captain, of one of the United States Life Saving Stations.
It is my hope that this story, if it does nothing else, will in some small measure enhance the not-too-strong interest in which the poorly paid, obscurely enacted heroism of the men in this service is held by the general public.
They have not the advantages, like our soldiers and firemen, of dressy uniforms and frequent parade before us. They would be greatly embarrassed by anything like public homage; yet how beneficent is their service! The lonely isolation of the Government Houses; the long, ofttimes dangerous patrols every night from sunset to sunrise; their detachment from home and social ties,--all speak for the dignified bravery of these men along our coasts, and should call forth from us a grateful and appreciative tribute.
HARRIET T. COMSTOCK. FLATBUSH, BROOKLYN, N.Y. JUNE 12, 1907.

ILLUSTRATIONS
Janet Frontispiece
page "The two men stood spellbound before the easel" 117
"'What do you know of my mother?'" 187
"'They're on the outer bar! Two rockets! I've answered!'" 267

JANET OF THE DUNES
CHAPTER I
A sweeping curve of glistening beach. A full palpitating sea lying under the languid heat of a late June afternoon. The low, red Life Saving Station, with two small cottages huddling close to it in friendly fashion, as if conscious of the utter loneliness of sea and sand dune. And in front of one of these houses sat Cap'n Billy and his Janet!
They two seemed alone in the silent expanse of waste and water, but it in no wise disturbed them. Billy was industriously mending a huge fish net spread out upon the sands. Janet was planning a mode of attack, in order to preserve unto herself the very loneliness and isolation that surrounded them.
In Janet's hands Cap'n Billy knew himself a craven coward. Only by keeping his eyes away from the face near him could he hope for success in argument. And Cap'n Billy, with all the strength of his simple, honest nature, meant to succeed in the present course--if Janet would permit him!
It was yet to be discovered how beautiful was the girl, crouching upon the sands. So unlike was she to the young people of the Station that she repelled, rather than attracted, the common eye. Tall, slim, and sinewy was she, with the quick strength of a boy. The smooth, brown skin had the fineness and delicacy of exquisite bronze. Some attempt had been made earlier in the day to confine the splendid hair with strong strands of seaweed, but the breeze of the later morning had treated the matter contemptuously, and the shining waves were beautifully disordered. Out of all keeping with this brown ruggedness were Janet's eyes. Like colorless pools they lay protected by their dark fringes, until emotion moved them to tint and expression. Did the sky of Janet's day prove kind, what eyes could be as soft and blue as hers? Did storm