Francis Hopkinson Smith

The Tides of Barnegat


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       Francis Hopkinson Smith

      The Tides of Barnegat

      Published by Good Press, 2019

       [email protected]

      EAN 4064066250324

       CHAPTER I

       THE DOCTOR'S GIG

       CHAPTER II

       SPRING BLOSSOMS

       CHAPTER III

       LITTLE TOD FOGARTY

       CHAPTER IV

       ANN GOSSAWAY'S RED CLOAK

       CHAPTER V

       CAPTAIN NAT'S DECISION

       CHAPTER VI

       A GAME OF CARDS

       CHAPTER VII

       THE EYES OF AN OLD PORTRAIT

       CHAPTER VIII

       AN ARRIVAL

       CHAPTER IX

       THE SPREAD OF FIRE

       CHAPTER X

       A LATE VISITOR

       CHAPTER XI

       MORTON COBDEN'S DAUGHTER

       CHAPTER XII

       A LETTER FROM PARIS

       CHAPTER XIII

       SCOOTSY'S EPITHET

       CHAPTER XIV

       HIGH WATER AT YARDLEY

       CHAPTER XV

       A PACKAGE OF LETTERS

       CHAPTER XVI

       THE BEGINNING OF THE EBB

       CHAPTER XVII

       BREAKERS AHEAD

       CHAPTER XVIII

       THE SWEDE'S STORY

       CHAPTER XIX

       THE BREAKING OF THE DAWN

       CHAPTER XX

       THE UNDERTOW

       CHAPTER XXI

       THE MAN IN THE SLOUCH HAT

       CHAPTER XXII

       THE CLAW OF THE SEA-PUSS

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

      One lovely spring morning—and this story begins on a spring morning some fifty years or more ago—a joy of a morning that made one glad to be alive, when the radiant sunshine had turned the ribbon of a road that ran from Warehold village to Barnegat Light and the sea to satin, the wide marshes to velvet, and the belts of stunted pines to bands of purple—on this spring morning, then, Martha Sands, the Cobdens' nurse, was out with her dog Meg. She had taken the little beast to the inner beach for a bath—a custom of hers when the weather was fine and the water not too cold—and was returning to Warehold by way of the road, when, calling the dog to her side, she stopped to feast her eyes on the picture unrolled at her feet.

      To the left of where she stood curved the coast, glistening like a scimitar, and the strip of yellow beach which divided the narrow bay from the open sea; to the right, thrust out into the sheen of silver, lay the spit of sand narrowing the inlet, its edges scalloped with lace foam, its extreme point dominated by the grim tower of Barnegat Light; aloft, high into the blue, soared the gulls, flashing like jewels as they lifted their breasts to the sun, while away and beyond the sails of