Sara, a Princess | Page 2

fishing-village of Killamet (now Sara's home), where she was wooed and won by the handsome, honest, daring young fisherman, Reuben Olmstead.
Sara was their first child, and upon her the young mother lavished untold tenderness. When, at the birth of the twins, nearly seven years later,--two infants having died between,--she yielded up her own gentle life, her last words had been,--
"Don't forget, Reuben, that Sara is to have an education. I can see already that she is going to care for books, and she'll need it more than ever, now--promise me, husband!" and the good man would sooner have cut off his weather-beaten spear-hand than break his promise to that dying wife.
In fulfilment of it he had struggled with what, to his fellow-villagers, seemed most foolish persistence, in order to give his oldest child immense and needless advantages, though it had been difficult enough to find the ways and means for these. Even after the usual annual three months of the "deestric" for several years, he had felt that his solemn promise still bound him to allow her at least one year at the seminary.
Nor did the loss of his aged mother, who had been housekeeper since his wife's death, weaken this resolution; and it was, perhaps, partly to make it possible for Sara to leave home, that he had married the young woman of the shrill voice, two years ago. She could look after the house and children while "Sairay got her finishin' off," as he expressed it.
But Sara, like many another scholar, found that her one poor little year was but a taste of wisdom, but one sip from the inexhaustible stream of learning, and, back once more in her childhood's home, was constantly returning to those living waters, with an unquenchable thirst.
It was her stepmother's pet grievance that "Sairay was allers at them books," which was hardly true; for the girl took all the care of her younger brother and sister, and much of the baby, while not a few of the household duties devolved upon her. But she undoubtedly was apt to hurry through her tasks, and disappear within the little attic room above the kitchen in cold weather, or under a certain shady cove down by the sea in summer, as soon as these were finished.
She had been netting but a short time when Morton and Mary came tumbling in, two lively youngsters nearing eleven years, whose bronzed and rosy cheeks betokened plenty of sunshine and fresh air.
"Say, pa!" they cried in a breath, almost stumbling over the baby in their excitement, Mary, as usual, in advance, "is it true you're going out for the long fish to-morrow? Jap Norris told us so on our way home from school."
The father's kindly eyes rested upon them with an indulgent twinkle in their depths.
"Waal, naow, if there's a bit o' news in this hull taown thet you younkers don't pick up, I'd like to find it! Yes, ef Jap Norris said so, I s'pose it's true; he oughter know, bein' as his fayther's the cap'n. How long'll it take to finish up thet air net, darter?"
"Not much longer; but isn't it early to start, father? The ice is hardly broken up, is it?"
"Waal, it's breakin' fast, Sairay; another day or two like this'll fetch it, an' it's 'first come best haul,' ye know, nowadays, sence all creation's got to runnin' to the Banks. Seems like it ain't skurcely fair for them sportin' men to go out jest for fun; they might leave cod an' herrin' to them what makes a business o' catchin' 'em, seems to me; but there, 'tain't so easy to keep a mortgage on the sea!" and he laughed good-humoredly. Meanwhile Molly, as they called the little Mary, had flung off her hood, and now was down on the floor playing with baby Ned, who welcomed her with crows of delight, for when she felt good-natured she was his favorite playmate.
The room would have seemed overflowing to a stranger, with its curtained bed in the alcove--or rather square projection--at one side, its fireplace at the end, and cradle, table, spinning-wheel, reels, and nets, to fill every available space left over.
Even the ceiling was made useful; for along the rafters were hooks which supported spears, oars, and paddles, while one wall was prettily tapestried with a great brown net, its sinkers hanging like ornamental balls along one edge.
The windows were small and the ceiling low, but the fire shone merrily, and gave light, warmth, and cosiness to the crowded apartment.
It was Sara who had pleaded for the restoration of the open fireplace, and the removal of the cook-stove to a bit of shed just back; and though at first the young mother had fretted at the innovation, she found it so much more cheerful, and such