The story of a summer : $b or, Journal leaves from ChappaquaCleveland, Cecilia Pauline
General
The story of a summer : $b or, Journal leaves from Chappaqua
Cleveland, Cecilia Pauline
Chappaqua (N.Y.); Greeley family
Soon light, fleecy clouds commenced to shield us from the sun's scorching
rays; we closed our parasols, and played with the deliciously cool water,
wondering meantime like Miss Helen, in that exquisite "Atlantic" story,
if we could call up a mermaid front below. But while we were drifting
along so charmingly, the clouds had become heavier and blacker, and
seizing the oars, Sam commenced to row with desperate haste. We were,
however, beaten in our race with the storm, and reached Croton Dam in a
perfect tempest of thunder, and lightning, and dashing rain.
Unfortunately Ida and I had worn slippers, not having expected to walk,
and there was only one umbrella in the party--our little parasols with
their crape borders and bows being more suitable for ornament than
service; however, we scrambled up the steep bank as best we could, and
ran to the protecting doorway of the water-house (the house itself was
locked as it was Sunday). Here we stowed ourselves away like so many
sardines, and waited patiently under the umbrella for an hour. Finally
the sun broke out, and we made our way over deep ponds of water back to
our boat. Sam looked up with a dejected expression as we approached, and
feared the boat wasn't fit for the ladies to go home in; he was bailing
it out as fast as he could, but it was very wet.
Wet indeed! Why Sam had not drawn the boat up on the beach and turned it
over during the rain, no one could imagine; but that brilliant idea had
not occurred to him. Therefore we were obliged to row back with our feet
reposing in little pools of water.
Before long, down came the rain again in torrents, but stimulated by the
prospective fee, Sam rowed with giant strokes. About a mile from the
hotel, we met the landlord rowing with desperate haste. It seems that
the rain had been even more violent at _his_ end of the lake, having been
magnified into a squall upon the water, and a tornado upon land, blowing
down trees, and breaking away the lattice-work of the hotel piazza;
consequently he supposed our boat must have been ingulfed, and had come
to look for the corpses. His amazement at finding us alive, and, though
very wet, in excellent spirits, was great.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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