Laura Brayton — page 166: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

LAURA BRAYTON. 157 “There’s no hope, no hope!” he muttered. “The ship 1s doomed. Ican do no good up here. The lamps are oiled and trimmed ready to light. I’ go down where Liddy is, and help her if a merciful Providence should give us anything to do.” And in a little while the father and daughter stood side by side on the storm-lashed beach. Even where they stood, inside the reach of the great white rollers, the blinding spray almost shut out the sea- ward view, but they got now and then a glimpse of © a black hull on the white drift of waters, but, at last, that seena moment before fearfully’distinct was gone, and then the old captain shouted in the ear of his child—for even a shout could scarcely be heard. “She’s gone, Liddy, she’s gone!” Lydia shuddered, and pressed the hand of her father, but she kept her eyes on the great rollers that tumbled in, one over another, on the trembling shore. In a little while dark specks were seen—casks, spars, planks—but not a body yet. Were the sharks strong enough to work their cruelty in that wild turmoil? A huge spar—it was a great yard, with the close- furled sail yet lashed upon it—came sweeping in toward the ‘spot where the old captain and his child were standing. He drew her back as the sea with resistless force threw the spar far up on the snowy sand. Why did she break from his grasp?—why rush forward at the very peril of her dear life? Her quick eyes had seen what his had not discovered— a human form lashed to the spar. In an instant he was where her small fingers in vain essayed to untie the knotted cord. His heavy. EO comicboo