N’OSReD ES HOR Bab hate Ze 
Feb. 2, 1917. 
Singing Beach Romance 
S6Q—)LD MANCHESTER-BY-THE-SEA is 
certainly glorious this morning,” 
cheerily remarked Elton Bradbury to 
his chauffeur as he slowly stepped 
from his handsome car. 
“Yes, indeed, sir!” the man heartily 
agreed; and he watched him as he 
limped to the board walk of the beach 
of the musical sounds, leaning heavily 
on a stout walking stick. 
“Too bad! Too bad!” he muttered 
as he returned to the car. 
Bradbury gazed at Eagle Head as 
one looks at a friend after long ab- 
sence. 
Always grand and beautiful, today 
the scene was truly magnificent as the 
waves dashed high and broke upon it 
with tremendous force. When he had 
last seen it, it had seemed to rise from 
the smooth and shining sunlit sea lke 
¢ jewel from a setting of gold. 
“That was only a year ago,’ he 
mused. Then he had been quick of 
step, ruddy of cheek, and had been 
proud of his strength and his broad, 
straight shoulders. 
Those shoulders looked narrow and 
bent as he continued on his way to the 
end of the beach, where he sat down 
among the rocks in a small sheltered 
cove. 
Printing 
that will represent your 
business, promptly and 
accurately done at the 
Breeze Office 
Manchester, Mass. 
By MRS. LIZZIE M. PEABODY 
He was only 24, but as he removed 
the soft, broad-brimmed hat, streaks 
of gray showed in the thick, black 
hair. 
A year ago he had been stopping at 
the Masconomo Hotel, and Elise 
Mansfield had been a guest at the 
Brownland. 
All through the summer they had 
been much together, as they both en- 
jeyed the outdoor pleasures for which 
Manchester is noted, and they had 
many friends among the residents of 
the town by the sea. 
He recalled the day they had idly 
and happily strolled along the beach, 
noting the different sorts of tracks on 
the damp sand. Among those of chil- 
dren (horses, dogs and small birds 
were those of large birds; and espec- 
ially they noticed a track which 
seemed to alternate with a deep punc- 
ture in the sand, “as though the bird 
carried a crutch and leaned heavily 
upon it,’’ Elise laughingly remarked. 
They followed it along the sands 
with wondering interest until he 
solved the problem by saying, “It 
must be that the bird left its foot in a 
trap, or that it. has been shot’ off: 
Perhaps it had been frozen in the ex- 
treme cold weather of the last win- 
ter.” And as he talked he knew she 
tried to crush back the tears which 
sprang to her eyes in pity for the one- 
footed one. They never caught sight 
of the bird, but many times afterward 
they saw the track of “the one with 
the crutch,” as they called him. 
The tide was receding and the 
beach began to be here and there dot- 
ted with groups of children and 
nurses wearing white caps and aprons. 
Large umbrellas sprang from the 
sand like giant mushrooms of many 
colors, and a group of small girls 
strolled by, singing with voices sweet 
and clear a favorite song. He thought 
the words were these: 
“Just the same the sea birds screech, 
And the shining, singing beach 
Takes the kisses from the same old 
SCOsm 
Just as they had sung it last sum- 
mer, he thought. Nothing was 
changed but himself. 
In spirit he revisited European bat- 
tlefields; saw again the sickening 
sights of war; the sudden and terrible 
transformation of living, thinking 
men into ghastly memories; recalled 
his long stay in the hospital after be- 
ing wounded, and the voyage over the 
sea. 
To keep the morning sun from lis 
eyes he had pulled down the brim 2f 
his hat, and from under it was nuw 
watching the tiny sand birds as they 
ran quickly along the wet sand on 
their thin, long legs. 
As he watched he heard voices, and 
two young ladies came by the rocks, 
talking earnestly. 
The one nearest him was Elise, and 
she glanced at the cove where they 
had sat together so many times as 
though it ‘were a habit, but quickly 
turned away her eyes at sight of the 
supposed stranger. 
He watched with shining eyes and 
beating heart as the girls walked away 
over the crunching sands. 
She had not changed, he decided, 
unless it might be that she was even 
prettier and more graceful than she 
was last summer. He had not thought 
that could be. 
“Well!” he said with a little sigh, 
(Continued to page 12) 
a’ 
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North Shore Breeze 
Manchester, Mass. 
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