A "NO'THEASTER" BLOWS
It had begun to snow early in the evening, a light fall at first, but growing heavier every minute, and, as the flakes fell thicker and faster, the wind began to blow, and its force increased steadily. Ralph, hearing the gusts as they swooped about the corners of the house, and the "swish" of the snow as it was thrown against the window panes, several times rose to go, but Captain Eri in each instance urged him to stay a little longer. Finally, the electrician rebelled.
"I should like to stay, Captain," he said, "but how do you think Iam going to get over to the station if this storm grows worse, as it seems to be doing?""I don't think," was the calm reply. "You're goin' to stay here.""Well, I guess not."
"I guess yes. S'pose we're goin' to let you try to row over to the beach a night like this? It's darker 'n a nigger's pocket, and blowin' and snowin' great guns besides. Jest you look out here."He rose, beckoned to Ralph, and then opened the outer door. He had to use considerable strength to do this, and a gust of wind and a small avalanche of snow roared in, and sent the lighter articles flying from the table. Elsie gave a little scream, and Mrs. Snow exclaimed, "For the land's sake, shut that door this minute!
Everything 'll be soppin' wet."
The Captain pulled the door shut again, and dropped the hook into the staple.
"Nice night for a pull, ain't it?" he observed, smiling. "No, sir, I've heard it comin' on, and I made up my mind you'd have to stay on dry land for a spell, no matter if all creation wanted you on t'other side."Ralph looked troubled. "I ought to be at the station," he said.
"Maybe so, but you ain't, and you'll have to put up at this boardin' house till mornin'. When it's daylight one of us 'll set you across. Mr. Langley ain't foolish. He won't expect you to-night."
"Now, Mr. Hazeltine," said the housekeeper, "you might jest as well give it up fust as last. You KNOW you can't go over to that station jest as well as I do."So Ralph did give it up, although rather against his will. There was nothing of importance to be done, but he felt a little like a deserter, nevertheless.
"Perez won't git home neither," observed Captain Eri. "He's snowed in, too."Captain Perez had that afternoon gone down to the Mayo homestead to take tea with Miss Davis.
"Git home! I should think not!" said Mrs. Snow decidedly.
"Pashy's got too much sense to let him try it.""Well, Elsie," commented Captain Jerry, "I told you we'd have a no'theaster 'fore the winter was over. I guess there'll be gale enough to satisfy you, now. No school to-morrer.""Well, that's settled! Let's be comf'table. Ain't there some of that cider down cellar? Where's the pitcher?" And Captain Eri hurried off to find it.
When bedtime came there was some argument as to where the guest should sleep. Ralph insisted that the haircloth sofa in the parlor was just the thing, but Captain Eri wouldn't hear of it.
"Haircloth's all right to look at," he said, "but it's the slipperiest stuff that ever was, I cal'late. Every time I set on a haircloth chair I feel's if I was draggin' anchor."The cot was declared ineligible, also, and the question was finally settled by Josiah and Captain Eri going upstairs to the room once occupied by John Baxter, while Ralph took that which they vacated.
It was some time before he fell asleep. The gale seemed to be tearing loose the eternal foundations. The house shook and the bed trembled as if a great hand was moving them, and the snow slapped against the windows till it seemed that they must break.
In the morning there was little change in the weather. The snow had turned to a sleet, half rain, that stuck to everything and coated it with ice. The wind was blowing as hard as ever. Captain Eri and Ralph, standing just outside the kitchen door, and in the lee of the barn, paused to watch the storm for a minute before they went down to the beach. At intervals they caught glimpses of the snow-covered roofs of the fish shanties, and the water of the inner bay, black and threatening and scarred with whitecaps; then another gust would come, and they could scarcely see the posts at the yard gate.
"Think you want to go over, do you?" asked the Captain.
"I certainly do, if I can get there."
"Oh, we can git there all right. I've rowed a dory a good many times when 'twas as bad as this. This ain't no picnic day, though, that's a fact," he added, as they crossed the yard, and caught the full force of the wind. "Lucky you put on them ileskins."Ralph was arrayed in Captain Jerry's "dirty-weather rig," and although, as Captain Eri said, the garments fitted him "like a shirt on a handspike," they were very acceptable.
They found the dory covered with snow and half-full of slush, and it took some few minutes to get her into condition. When this was accomplished they hauled her down to the shore, and Captain Eri, standing knee-deep in water, steadied her while Ralph climbed in.
Then the Captain tumbled in himself, picked up the oars, and settled down for the pull to the outer beach.
A dory, as everyone acquainted alongshore knows, is the safest of all small craft for use in heavy weather. It is unsinkable for one thing, and, being flat-bottomed, slips over the waves instead of plowing through them. But the high freeboard is a mark for the wind, and to keep a straight course on such a morning as this requires skill, and no small amount of muscle. Ralph, seated in the stern, found himself wondering how on earth his companion managed to row as he did, and steer at the same time. The strokes were short, but there was power in them, and the dory, although moving rather slowly, went doggedly on.
"Let me take her," shouted Ralph after a while, "you must be tired.""Who, me?" Captain Eri laughed. "I could keep this up for a week.
