The Books: “Along the Shore – ‘The Light on the Big Dipper’” (L.M. Montgomery)

Daily Book Excerpt: YA/Children’s books:

Along the Shore – “The Light on the Big Dipper” – by L.M. Montgomery

This story is told from the point of view of a very resourceful 12 year old, and in typical and beautiful Lucy Maud fashion, she can get right into the psychology of a child. I love it when she does that. Lucy Maud, as an adult, can see how absurd some things are – how children deal with things … and yet – and I think this is why she is so hugely successful with children, to this day – she takes them seriously. She respects them. She writes about them with respect. It’s so fun to read these stories, even now, because of that.

Mary Margaret Campbell is 12 years old. Her father is a sea captain and has been gone for 2 long years on a voyage. While Captain Campbell is gone – Mary Margaret, her mother, and her younger sister Nellie – all go to live on an island out in the bay called Little Dipper. Mary Margaret’s uncle has a lobster fishing operation out there – and wants someone to keep house for him. There’s another island – in sight of Little Dipper – and it’s called Big Dipper – and Mary Margaret’s Uncle George runs the lighthouse there. Mary Margaret has spent many happy afternoons there – and Uncle George showed her how to light the light, and give the distress signal, and all that.

But now – happiness! Captain Campbell is finally coming home! Mrs. Campbell is going to pick up her husband on the mainland – and leaves Mary Margaret in charge of little Nellie. Mary Margaret is 12 years old, can cook, can do everything – she is very responsbile. So there are no worries about her being by herself.

All the grownups leave the island. Mary Margaret and Nellie have a nice afternoon. Mary Margaret makes dinner. She lights the fire. She gets Nellie ready for bed. All very responsible. Meanwhile, though – a storm is coming up. A bad one. Darkening sky, and it begins to SNOW – heavily. Mary Margaret sits down by the window, and waits for the light to blaze out of the lighthouse at Big Dipper. Once the sun has gone down, I mean. Mary Margaret knows Uncle George’s routine, so she sits down to watch the light come on across the water. Only … no light comes on. And now the storm is raging. Waves, rain, chaos … still no light!

Mary Margaret knows that something is horribly wrong. And … she doesn’t know what to do! Responsible little Mary Margaret is in a panic! What about all the ships out on the water right now? How would they know where they were? Everyone was in mortal danger!!!! Why won’t the light come on?

Finally, Mary Margaret knows that there is only one thing to do. She must row across the water to the lighthouse and light the lamp herself, see if Uncle George is all right. But what to do with Nellie?? The small 4 year old sister? Mary Margaret is afraid … she doesn’t know what to do … so she ties her sister in a chair … so at least she can’t get free and hurt herself … and then goes to row across the water.

Also: having grown up in a seaside town, surrounded by fisherfolk, with lighthouses being a daily part of my life … I love Lucy Maud’s description of the community here. The importance of lighthouses, the URGENCY of lighthouses, etc. The entire community being aware of the lighthouse, and invested in it working properly.

Excerpt from Along the Shore – “The Light on the Big Dipper” – by L.M. Montgomery

Mary Margaret put on her jacket, hood and mittens, and took Uncle Martin’s lantern. As she went out and closed the door, a little wail from Nellie sounded on her ear. For a moment she hesitated, then the blackness of the Big Dipper confirmed her resolution. She must go. Nellie was really quite safe and comfortable. It would not hurt her to cry a little, and it might hurt somebody a great deal if the Big Dipper light failed. Setting her lips firmly, Mary Margaret ran down to the shore.

Like all the Harbour girls, Mary Margaret could row a boat from the time she was nine years old. Nevertheless, her heart almost failed her as she got into the little dory and rowed out. The snow was getting thick. Could she pull across those black two miles between the Dippers before it got so much thicker that she would lose her way? Well, she must risk it. She had set the light in the kitchen window; she must keep it fair behind her and then she would land on the lighthouse beach. With a murmured prayer for help and guidance she pulled staunchly away.

It was a long hard row for the little twelve-year-old arms. Fortunately there was no wind. But thicker and thicker came the snow; finally the kitchen light was hidden in it. For a moment Mary Margaret’s heart sank in despair; the next it gave a joyful bound, for, turning, she saw the dark tower of the lighthouse directly behind her. By the aid of her lantern she rowed to the landing, sprang out and made her boat fast. A minute later she was in the lighthouse kitchen.

The door leading to the tower stairs was open and at the foot of the stairs lay Uncle George, limp and white.

“Oh, Uncle George,” gasped Mary Margaret, “what is the matter? What has happened?”

“Mary Margaret! Thank God! I was just praying to Him to send somebody to ‘tend the light. Who’s with you?”

“Nobody … I got frightened because there was no light and I rowed over. Mother and Uncle Martin are away.”

“You don’t mean to say you rowed yourself over here alone in the dark and snow! Well, you are the pluckiest little girl about this harbour! It’s a mercy I’ve showed you how to manage the light. Run up and start it at once. Don’t mind about me. I tumbled down those pesky stairs like the awkward old fool I am and I’ve broke my leg and hurt my back so bad I can’t crawl an inch. I’ve been lying here for three mortal hours and they’ve seemed like three years. Hurry with the light, Mary Margaret.”

Mary Margaret hurried. Soon the Big Dipper light was once more gleaming cheerfully athwart the stormy harbour. Then she ran back to her uncle. There was not much she could do for him beyond covering him warmly with quilts, placing a pillow under his head, and brewing him a hot drink of tea.

“I left a note for Mother telling her where I’d gone, Uncle George, so I’m sure Uncle Martin will come right over as soon as they get home.”

“He’ll have to hurry. It’s blowing up now … hear it … and snowing thick. If your mother and Martin haven’t left the Harbour Head before this, they won’t leave it tonight. But, anyhow, the light is lit. I don’t mind my getting smashed up compared to that. I thought I’d go crazy lying here picturing to myself a vessel out on the reefs.”

That night was a very long and anxious one. The storm grew rapidly worse, and snow and wind howled around the lighthouse. Uncle George soon grew feverish and delirious, and Mary Margaret, between her anxiety for him and her dismal thoughts of poor Nellie tied in her chair over at the Little Dipper, and the dark possibility of her mother and Uncle Martin being out in the storm, felt almost distracted. But the morning came at last, as mornings blessedly will, be the nights never so long and anxious, and it dawned fine and clear over a white world. Mary Margaret ran to the shore and gazed eagerly across at the Little Dipper. No smoke was visible from Uncle Martin’s house!

She could not leave Uncle George, who was raving wildly, and yet it was necessary to obtain assistance somehow. Suddenly she remembered the distress signal. She must hoist it. How fortunate that Uncle George had once shown her how!

Ten minutes later there was a commotion over at Harbour Head where the signal was promptly observed, and very soon – although it seemed long enough to Mary Margaret – a boat came sailing over to the Big Dipper. When the men landed they were met by a very white-faced little girl who gasped out a rather disjointed story of a light that hadn’t been lighted and an uncle with a broken leg and a sister tied in her chair, and would they please see to Uncle George at once, for she must go straight over to the other Dipper?