Motion Picture Story Magazine (Aug 1912-Jan 1913)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

THE LIGHT THAT FAILED 65 His glass swept around toward the harbor and covered a tiny, white boat, in which a girl, with muscular strokes, was making for the town. The puckered corners of his mouth relaxed into a smile of content. Here was one, fresh and exhilarating as seascud, who was, at least, no mystery to him. Two things alone did Captain A strong man, and a forceful one, was Captain Bayliss in his prime, rowing or sailing a good five miles from the shore to Cady's Reef each dusk, and back again in the morning. But this was before his spells of black rage had driven Patience from his house, and before the Government had built him living quarters on the strip of bare reef in the lee of the light. Daniel love in this world — his light and his girl. One he had tended since the days of the clipper ships, that sailed like stately castles of white into Shoretown harbor; the other — how well he remembered the flying scud on stormy nights when he mast get back to his light — was the only token of his long courtship, and marriage, of pretty Patience Pryme, the town beauty of thirty years ago. On this bit of rock hanging in the sea, Jane had grown up. The once violent old man, with his face the color of leather, and his taciturn, dry smile, was her only companion — father, mother, playmate and lover in one cantankerous old man. On stormy nights, too, when the winter wind came down in a solid shriek from the north and wuthered and moaned in the crannies of the