"Ay, that's the light, Sonny, an' by the charts in my room you can see where it stands. Now give me the book you was readin' last night, an' I'll show you somethin' that tells how much of sufferin' is needed sometimes to keep the lights on our coast burnin'."
Captain Eph found the article on Matinicus Rock Light, and Sidney read aloud the entire chapter; but it is not well to set down here more than a few extracts:
"Matinicus Rock is twenty-five miles out in the ocean from the mainland, directly in the pathway of the ocean-steamers plying from Boston and Portland to Eastport, St. John, Yarmouth, and Halifax, and of the immense fleet of coasting and fishing vessels trading between the United States and the British Provinces. This barren and jagged rock, covering an area of thirty-nine acres at low tide, is inaccessible except during favorable weather....
"In the spring of 1853, Samuel Burgess obtained the position of light keeper; his family consisted of an invalid wife, four small daughters, and a son, who, though making his home on the rock, was absent much of the time fishing in Bay Chaleur and else-where. The eldest daughter, Abbie, fourteen years old, was the keeper's only assistant; she aided in caring for the light as well as attending to the principal household duties. In the occasional absence of her father, the whole care of the light devolved upon her....
"On the morning of January 19, 1856, Abbie being then seventeen years of age, the Atlantic was visited by one of those terrible gales to which it is subject. Her father was away."
It was Abbie herself who wrote the following concerning the storm:
"Early in the day, as the tide rose, the sea made a complete breach over the rock, washing every movable thing away, and of the old dwelling not one stone was left upon another. The new dwelling was flooded, and the windows had to be secured to prevent the violence of the spray from breaking them in. As the tide came, the sea rose higher and higher, till the only endurable places were the light-towers. If they stood we were saved, otherwise our fate was only too certain. But for some reason, I know not why, I had no misgivings, and went on with my work as usual. For four weeks, owing to rough weather, no landing could be effected on this rock."
"In the spring of 1857, Mr. Burgess left the rock to obtain his salary and secure some provisions and fuel. The weather prevented his return, and the family ran short of food. Waiting until famine stared them in the face, the son started in a little skiff equipped with a sail, made by the aid of his sister, to obtain succor. Pushing from the rock in his frail craft, he was at first lost sight of in the trough of the sea; he reappeared on the top of the waves for a short distance, and was seen no more for twenty-one days, during which time the mother and the four girls were reduced to a cup of corn-meal and one egg each per day. Added to risk of perishing of famine in mid-ocean, was the torturing suspense as to the fate of father and son.
"During all this time Abbie attended to the light, cared for her sick mother, and, by her spirit and example, cheered the little family clustered together on this wave-beaten rock in the Atlantic. Fortunately, father and son finally safely returned to their ocean home."