K. UNIACKE.
* * * * *
Two Rivers, Wis.
DEAR ST. NICHOLAS: I am not quite ten years old, but I am one of
your oldest subscribers. We have every number from the very first.
I have a brother Fred, two years older than I. We have always lived
on the shores of Lake Michigan.
During the summer months, the steamer comes in from Chicago every
morning. Fred and I like to get up early in the morning, and go
down to the beach, before breakfast, to see the steamer go out;
and, afterward, the morning train, for the station is near the
beach. It is lovely down there early in the morning; we dig wells,
sail boats, and wade out after the waves that chase us back again.
We love the lake, and spend many happy hours down there. But
sometimes it's a very wicked lake. Three weeks ago it blew very
hard all night, and in the morning the waves were rolling up like
mountains, and near the harbor pier there lay a wreck. Although
they were so close to the town, and several other vessels were
lying at anchor near, no one had heard, or seen, or knew anything
about how it happened.
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