Pansy's Sunday Book

by Unknown

You want to hear more? Well, let me see, what shall I tell you about this time? I am reminded by the talk I overheard about the family going to the seaside, of the summer when I was two years old. I spent it with my old master at a place on the New Jersey coast. There did not seem to be any one with whom I could well stay at home; besides, my young master’s little girl was very anxious to have me go with them, so they finally agreed to it, and were not sorry afterwards.

As I remember, I enjoyed the bathing as well as any of the party, or would have done so had I not been anxious all the time about little Lucy’s drowning. When those big waves would roll in, it seemed to me they meant to carry my little friend out of my sight forever.

The summer proved to be one which we could all remember without trying. For the first few weeks there was nothing very unusual happened, and some seemed to think it was going to be very dull and monotonous. But it “is a long road that has no turn,” and a “turn” finally came which was exciting enough for all of us.

The old settlers near the beach said we were to have a storm which would afford us a chance for a vacation in our bathing, and give us a sight of some “big seas,” for we would probably see the Atlantic in one of his angry moods before many hours.

We felt ready for the change, and lay down at night thinking what a good time we would have the next day looking at the great waves roll in.

I knew the wind was blowing pretty fresh, but had such a protected place that I did not know how the storm had arisen until towards morning I heard the sound of a big gun. It sounded again and again, and then there was a noise in the house, and a general turn out and rush for the beach. Of course I followed the crowd, and soon learned what was the matter. There was a ship in distress, and being driven upon the shore.

The men were there with the life-saving apparatus, and soon a line was got out to the ship, and they were running a kind of boat back and forth upon it, bringing the passengers from the ship to the shore.

Well, the people were all safety landed, but there was a splendid big dog on that ship, and no one had seemed to think of or to care for him. O, yes! he knew how to swim, but that was a terribly angry water, and the distance was great, and they said there was an ugly undertow. That means that water which has come pouring in upon the shore runs back on the bottom with such power sometimes as to carry anything with it that it can get hold of.

Poor Hercules—that was the dog’s name—had seen himself left there alone, the while the great waves were breaking all over the ship. If the poor fellow had been a fool he might have suffered less, for he would have thrown himself into the water at once; but as it was he knew the danger. Why, we could hear his howl above the noise of the breakers! and some of the men were almost wild with anxiety to try to save him. I suppose none of them thought the poor dog would know enough to get into that little car which had brought the people to the shore; and if he had he could not have shut himself in. So there he was. His owner, having several children besides his wife and the nurse to look after, had entirely forgotten the dog.

Hercules ran up and down the deck until there finally came a wave much bigger than any which had preceded it, and he was washed overboard. Of course he did then the best he could, and that was saying a great deal, for he was a powerful fellow; but those were terrible waves, and what could anything but a fish do in such a sea? We could see him now and then upon the crest of a wave, and then he would disappear. Every time we saw him he seemed to be nearer the shore, and we had a little hope that some big sea would throw him near enough for us to help him.