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Various

"Stories of Mystery"

Woe to the land where the wood grew that made ye!
Cursed be the axe that hewed ye on the mountains, the hands that joined
ye together, the bay that ye first swam in, and the wind that wafted
ye here! Seven times have ye put my life in peril, three fair sons have
you swept from my side, and two bonnie grand-bairns; and now, even now,
your waters foam and flash for my destruction, did I venture my infirm
limbs in quest of food in your deadly bay. I see by that ripple and
that foam, and hear by the sound and singing of your surge, that ye
yearn for another victim; but it shall not be me nor mine."
Even as the old mariner addressed himself to the wrecked ships, a young
man appeared at the southern extremity of the bay, holding his
halve-net in his hand, and hastening into the current. Mark rose, and
shouted, and waved him back from a place which, to a person unacquainted
with the dangers of the bay, real and superstitious, seemed
sufficiently perilous: his grand-daughter, too, added her voice to his,
and waved her white hands; but the more they strove, the faster advanced
the peasant, till he stood to his middle in the water, while the tide
increased every moment in depth and strength.


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