IN DANGER. 3 1 1
��IN DANGER.*
A FRAID ? When I stood up yonder 11 On the bow of a boat ashore, With a rent in her black hull riven,
Through which flood and death might pour?
Mid the sound of the midnight echo, " Climb ashore ! for the boat may sink!"
Looking up at the dark, high mountain, At the river as black as ink ?
Yes, I was afraid of the water, That glimmered so dark and cold ;
Afraid of the coming struggle That the midnight call foretold ;
Afraid of the cruel sharpness
Of rocks under naked feet ; Afraid of the newsboy s story
To sound in the city street ;
Afraid that the souls beloved
Should garner no good-bye kiss, Or find no grave grass-covered
Afraid? Yes, afraid of this.
- On board the Catskill boat Walter Brett, which, with
a sleeping pilot, ran on the rocks at midnight, September 28th. The sharp rocks or the deep water presented the only alterna tives at first. Happily, another boat, which had been watch ing the erratic course of the Brett, soon came to the rescue.
�� �
