Witch Hazel; or, The Secret of the Locket — page 2: what you’re looking at

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

streaming forth upon the murky sea a white, a blue, a red, and a green glow, to warn distant vessels from the treacherous rocks and shoals that lie all about it. Close beside this massive structure, and built up against it, is the small house in which dwells the honest and faithful man whose duty itis to keep the lights aloft trimmed and burning. A large garden slopes away from this to the south, and the whole is inclosed by a massive wall to pro- tect it from the fierce storms and mountain waves which sometimes sweep over this small oasis in the watery desert, as if bent upon its annililation. This garden is the pride of the light-house keeper and his little grandson, who spend much time raising choice vegetables and flowers, and, twice a week, ship them to the neighboring city by the bustling little tug-boat which touches at the island to leave necessary supplies for the few people who live there. The only other inhabitants of the desolate place are a middle-aged woman, who has kept house for the worthy light-keeper ever since the death of his wife, eight years previous to the opening of our story, and her son, who assists about the lights, minds the one pig, and chickens, and performs various other uties. Old Sandy Morton, as the Keeper was called, had been a sailor in his early life, and he dearly loved the sea in spite of the hardship which he had endured upon it, and the many sorrows it had bruught him first and last. He is tall, strong, stalwart—a perfect giant, in F physically—with a venial and honest, pes inicvoskes ott