Literary and Educational Supplement. 



(Our Storg teller. 



A STORY OF THE EBB TIDE. 



" Why, child, and thou didst never 

 hear of the mermaids ? Mer, thee 

 knowest, means the sea, and they are 

 sea maidens with long silken hairs 

 white arms and green scaly fish-tails 

 instead of feet. All the day long 

 they live beneath the ocean, in beau- 

 tiful palaces where lustrous jewels with 

 their glitter light the lofty halls. 

 Sometimes after a fearful storm a 

 human body will sink down to the 

 mermaids' home and they grieve be- 

 cause it is always their wish to keep 

 with them a living mortal, they can- 

 not understand the dying." " ( Gran- 

 nie, / could live in the water, don't 

 you know that you said they took me 

 out of the ocean ?" " Tut tut, little 

 girl, thou'rt to quick with thy ton- 

 gue. If they did take thee from out 

 the sea thou wert lost from some 

 good vessel first and not from sea 

 palaces. I'll not tell thee more of the 

 mermaids, I'm thinking." 



11 No, no, Grannie, please go on, 

 I'll be good," and with a pat of wee, 

 soft fingers the gran' dame's story 

 goes drowsily on "And when the 

 long day hath passed away and the 

 glorious night is come they may rise 

 to the top of the sea and shaking 

 their loose hair to the winds they 

 swim eagerly to the lines ot rolling 

 breakers, and lo ! the breakers are 

 their horses and restless are waiting 

 for their coming. Then the mer- 

 maids mount the great, green fellows 

 and tangle their hands in their long 

 frothy manes and away, away. They 

 gallop up, up on the sand and 

 then swiftly back again. Merry 

 peals of silvery laughter and stran- 

 ge sweet songs echo over the sea and 

 sands, and so the mermaids and their 

 wave horses sport away the glorious 

 night. But at the ebb ol the tide, in 



the cool darkness deep in the night, 

 the maidens rest on the top of the 

 water combing their long, tangled 

 hair with golden combs and sing such 

 sad, sweet, wondrous songs that mor- 

 tals hearing are lured away and follow 

 them only to die far under the water." 



Grannie's low voice ceased but 

 the ocean's monotonous roar took 

 up the story and carried it on and 

 on until the " strange, sweet songs" 

 of the mermaids seemed to rise from 

 the waves and trembling in the air 

 to float across the sandy beach and 

 thrill the listening soul of little gray- 

 eyed Jeanette. Sitting in the twi- 

 light on the door-step she had lis- 

 tened to grannie's story. Could all 

 the wondrous things that grannie told 

 her of the sea be true? There was 

 one she loved best to hear, 'twas the 

 story of the time when grannie's son, 

 the brave Leon had rescued the baby 

 Jeanette from the cruel waters and 

 brought her home, a little sea-waif 

 With her chin leaned on her hand 

 and her clear gray eyes # wide open 

 she sat and watched the gray waters, 

 the glistening sands, and the sea- 

 birds about the door and wondered — 



She sat so quiet with her thoughts 

 that the fearless birds pulled at her 

 gown as if to bid her come with 

 them. She glanced in at grannie in 

 her old rocker by the open window — 

 the soft, sea wind stole in and stirred 

 the snowy hair on her temples, and 

 lifted the white kerchief on her 

 breast as she nodded, nodded, for 

 grannie slept. " Yes, I will go," 

 spoke Jeanette. as if answering the 

 birds. " I'll go and watch for the 

 mermaids and hark lor their songs." 

 Out into the luminous night she 

 walked along the gloomy, quiet sands. 

 A faint phosphorescent radiance made 

 the night strange and unearthly. 

 There was no moon, the stars glim- 

 mered dimly through a thin mist; 

 ocean, sky and land seemed melted 

 hazily together. The air was heavy 

 and damp, and the hollow murmur 

 ot the waves sounded far away. 

 Weird, ghostly forms of misty light 

 danced in the air and on the water. 

 Jeanette, awed and timid, crept close 



