The Abbeville press and banner. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, December 08, 1897, Image 2
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Copyright by Robert Bonner's Sons.
CHAPTER XXI.
CONTINUED.
There was a second of awful sii
lence, then a report that would have
I done credit to a small cannon, and SaI
manthy measured her length on the
1 floor.
I "T.&nd o' ffoodness! How itkicked!"
\\ ~~ O
groaned the prostrate damsel. "I
reckon I'd orter p'inted it t' other
way."
At the barn there had been a quick,
* sharp cry from the shadow in the doorway,
a frightened oath from another
inside, and then a man staggered and
fell across the log sill, with a red
1 stream of blood spurting from his
breast.
"Are you hit?" cried the other, coming
to his side and attempting to raise
him to his feet.
"Yes," -was the husky answer. "I
guess I'm done for at last. % Don't stay
here. You can't do any good if you
do. They won't hang me after I'm
dead., Make tracks, partner."
"But I can't leave you in this fix,"
said the other "You may not be hurt
as bad as you think. Couldn't you
walk by leaning on me? Try it."
"It's no use," was the reply. "I'm
shot through the body. Run for it if
you want to save your neck."
His companion hesitated. It seemed
too cowardly to leave a wounded comrade
like this, even if remaining at his
side could afford him no help. A
hoarse rattle in the throat of the
wounded man decided him.
"Well, then, good-by, old fellow,"
he said, putting out his hand and
touching the other's arm at parting.
"I'd stay if I could help you, if I
hung for it," he added, still wavering
between a desire to be loyal to an old
companion in crime and a longing to
seek personal safety.
The only answer was a gurgling
n A in +Vin fVirnaf of fVl A dvinc rrmn
444 w- o *
He knew that his companion's life was
ending, and he sprang over his body
and fled into the darkness.
"I reckon I've convinced 'em we
wa'n't all away from hnm," said Samanthy,
struggling to her feet. "I'll
bet I'll be black 'n' blue to-morrer
from the kickin' o' that gun. I never
see nothin' like it."
"Are you hurt much?" asked Nannie,
beginning to recover from her
fright.
"Not seri'us, I guess," replied Samanthy.
"Supposen you look out
an' see if you can see anything."
Nannie went to the window iust in
time to see the man running toward
the cornfield.
"One's running," she answered.
"And, oh, Samanthy"?with a frightened
quaver in her voice?"there's
something lying in the barn door that
looks as if it might be a man! Oh,
Samanthy, -what if it should be? What
will you do if you've killed him?"
"Sha'n't wear mournin' fer him,"
said Samanthy, beginning to feel
queer, as she afterward related this
part of the story to her friends. "I
wouldn't like to know I'd killed somebody,
but ef 'twas a hoss-thief, -somebody'd
orter kill him, an' I dunno but
it mought as -well be me's anybody
else."
"We ought to let Uncle Porter
know," said Nannie. "Oh, Samanthy!"
?suddenly?"I wouldn't wonder in
the least if they'd got our horses,
too."
"Like's not," said Samanthy. "Ef
you'll go right down an' let 'em know
what's happened, I'll stay here and
keep watch."
"Oh, I wouldn't dare to!" cried
Nannie. "What if I met one of the
horse-thieves?"
"Then you stay here, an' I'll go,"
said Samanthy.
"Let's both go," said Nannie. "It
wouldn't do anv cood for one of us to
stay here while the other was gone."
To this plan Samanthy assented,
and they set off on a run for the campmeeting
grounds.
"It cured my toothache, anyway,"
said Samanthy. "I declare't was lucky
I had it, wa'n't it? It sent me hum
at jest the right time. Ef we 'd 'a'
be'n five minutes later, they 'd 'a'
be'n gone with the hosses."
Mr. Porter was in the midst of a
stirring exhortation when the two women
reappeared at the camp-meeting.
Samanthy went up to him and gave
his arm a twitch.
"You 'd better come hum," she
nhispered. "There's trubble to the
barn. Hoss-thieves, I reck'n!"
CHAPTER XXII.
ON THE TRAIL.
Mr. Porter broke off his exhortation
very abruptly, and joined Mr.
Boone, to whom Nannie had gone
with the news of what had happened.
It was evident to all, from the action
and manner of the women, that
sometmng unusual naa taKen place,
and a crowd soon gathered about them
for information.
Samanthy told all there '" is to tell
in as few words as possible.
Five minutes later the services of
the evening were declared ended,
and the entire congregation set off for
Mr. Porter's.
"Did you say Samanthy shot one?"
asked Rhoda, coming up to where
Nannie stood, with her mother and
Mrs. Pcrter. "Oh, dear! Isn't it
dreadful! I sha'n't sleep a wink tonight
thinking of it."
"Neither shall I," said Nannie. "I
haven't got the sound of that gun out
of my ears yet. It doesn't seem to me
as if I ever would. Come home with
me, Rhoda. Your aunt will have
plenty of company, and won't need
you. Do come, please! I can't bear
to think of staying alone, and you
haven't stayed with me in a long
buuc.
Bhoda consented, and the party
followed the men from the campground.
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It -was a crowd of stern-faced men
that gathered about the barn, a few
minutes later.
"She hit one, sure enough," said
the foremost settler, as he paused at
the open stable-door. "He's hurt purty
bad, or dead, I reckon, jedgin' from
the blood."
"Lift him up," said Mr. Boone.
"Mebbe he's fainted."
Two men stepped forward and attempted
to lift the figure in the doorway.
"He's dead," said one of them, after
partially raising the body. "NeighI
Vvrtwri 4-V? r\r*r\ * a Ar> o 1 oca linrcio.fV?iof in
UUIOj liigi o a vuv MVA UV VJUAVA ***
the world," he added, solemnly, yet
not without a sound of satisfaction in
his voioe.
There was a moment of deep silence
in the crowd. The presence of death
kept down the demonstration of the
excitement that every man felt.
Jnet then Wayne came up, in company
with one of the ministers.
"We heard you had caught a horsethief,
and came to gratify a curiosity
to see what one of the animals looked
like," he said with a laugh. But Mr.
Boone fancied that he detected an uneasy
sound in the speaker's voice, and
that the laugh which accompanied the
words seen^ed forced and unnatural.
"We have," said Mr. Porter, holding
his lantern so that the light of it i
fell full upon the dead man's face. i
Wayne started back with a frightened <
exclamation. He stood for a moment
and looked upon the ghastly sight,then 1
turned away with a shudder that he i
could not hide, and walked toward the
house. i
"The wrath of God smites the trans- 1
gressor," said the minister, solemnly.
"May He have mercy on this poor sin- 1
ner'ssoul! Let us pray."
And kneeling by the dead, among 1
an awe-struck company which stood I
i with bared, bowed heads, the good ^
man prayed, and the sound of his voice
was all that broke the silence until '
"Amen!" was said.
A >ioaf.Tr /?rmnnlfn.finn tm Viflld rtnn- ^
** """V vw"w"**"""" """ ?- ? i
cerning the disposal to be made of the 1
body.
Before it was concluded, Mr. Boone
came hurrying up with the news that .
his horses were gone.
"I tell you what it is, men," said
one of the settlers, as he listened to
the tidings, "ef we ever git track o1 ^
the thieves, We've got to do it now.
Them with Boone's horses can't hev ^
more'n an hour's start' of us, an' it ,
seems as ef they must ha' left some
track behind. This"?pointing to the
body in the doorway?"'11 be quite
likely to put an end to their perform- ^
ances in this neighborhood for a spell,
anyway, an' we don't want 'em to git j
away if it's possible to find 'em. We've ^
hunted fer 'em high 'n' low, an' hunted .
thurrer, but we hain't got on to the
right trail fer some reason or anuther. ,
We hain't never found outwhat they'd
done so soon after they'd did it as we ^
hev this time. Ef we turn out an'
s'arch as ef we meant bisness, I can't
i--i- _i _? >_ i j '
neip ieenu a ei we uuaiu git duuic j
track of 'em. It seems so, anyway.
An* I go in fer makin' such a hunt as
we hain't made yit, though I don't
know's we can be a bit more thurrer
'n we hev b'en. But we can try, anyhow;
an' ef we do find any signs of
'em, we can foller 'em up ef we git
right at it an' don't waste no time.
What say, neighbors?"
A hearty murmur of aBsent went
over the crowd.
Lights were procured, and a close
examination of the premises about Mr.
Boone's barn began.
"Here's their tracks plain 's day,"
declared Bill Green, as eager for the
pursuit of the horse-thieves now aB he
had been an hour ago for pardon of
his sins. "I feel's ef we was goin' to
fetch 'em this time. I do so!"
An hour later there was unbroken
quiet where, so short a time before,
rturo Tiorl Koon on mnr?Vi flTmtflmflTlt
They were on the trail of the horsethieves
at last.
The dead man's body had been
placed in the barn to await burial on ,
the morrow. i
It was twelve o'clock when the lights ;
carried by the men who were on track
of the horse-thieves faded into faint :
glimmers in the distance, and finally j
dwindled into so many sparks, and
then seemed to go out in the darkness ;
of the night. (
In the kitchen at Mr. Porter's, the j
women and ministers were talking over ,
the exciting events of the evening.
Wayne had retired.
The clock struck one.
"I declare," exclaimed Mrs. Boone,
"I'd no idee't was so late! Come,
Mis' Holdredge, let's be goin', or we
sha'n't git any rest right to-night, an'
I feel clear beat out."
Mrs. Holdredge was a visitor from
"(In-am ViAlrvw " -arhnm TVTrn Rnnrift hurl
invited home with her from camp-meet- l
ing.
"Are you ready, Nannie?" asked
Mrs. Boone, as she and Mrs. Holdredge
rose to go.
"You can go on, mother, and Rhoda 1
and I'll come right along," responded ;
Nannie. "I want to see Samanthy a
minute." ^
Mrs. Boone and her friend took their
departure, and Nannie called Samanthy
into the pantry for consultation.
"Dick ought to know of what's hap- '
pened," said Nannie. "It may be that
the knowledge of it would be of great
advantage to him. Hadn't I better
write a few lmeB ana put them in the
hollow tree? He'll find them to-mor- I
row, if he's already been there to- ;
night." 1
"I reckon't would be a good idee," ]
said Samanthy.
So Nannie tore a blank leaf out of t
the front part of a hymn-book and hurriedly
wrote a few lines, explaining
the condition of affairs. i
"I'll leave it there on my way home," i
she said. "Good night, Samanthy. i
I'm glad I didn't shoot that man. but <
W: "
I don't think you did wrong. Nobod;
does." *
"Neither du I," Baid Samanthj
"But I do feel awful ouri's over i
somehow. He desarved it, but?I'<
ruther some one else'd did it. Bnt it'
done, and can't be helped; an'I dunno'
I'm sorry or hev any cull tu be
Moucht iest as well be me tu du it a
anybody else, as I suid afore; but?
Nannie and Rhorta took their df
parture, and Samanthy -went to he
room and went to bed, but not to sleep
The face of the dead man alone in th
barn seemed before her constantly
She was honest with herself when sh
said that she felt she had done righl
and yet the thought that a man ha
come to his death by her act was any
thing but a pleasant one.
"He desarved it," she kept sayin
to herself, "but I'd ruther somebod;
else had did it."
CHAPTER XXm.
RHODA OVERHEARS A CONVERSATIOK
"Rhoda," said Nannie, when the
were half way to Mr. Boone's, "wil
you -wait here a minute while I g
dow the road just a little way? I'll b
back in no time. Some time I'll tel
you all about it."
"I'll be right back," said Nannie, a
she hurried away. "Don't be afraid
Rhoda."
"No-no," responded Rhoda, feelini
sure that she was afraid, in spite c
her assurance to the contrary.
She sat down on a log behind
clump of bushes to await Nannie's re
turn.
The moon, which had been partiall;
obscured, came out from behind
cloud, and tooking toward Mr. Por
ter's she saw that the window in th
gable of the house was raised and i
man was leaning out.
As she saw this she became con
scious of a sound which she vaguel;
remembered to have heard before
since leaving Mr. Porter's?the call o
a night-bird.
But as she listened to it now ther<
seemeu to oe Humeiuiiig peuunm auuu
it, -which she had never noticed in th
call before.
It was given three times. Then th
forest from which it came was silen
again.
Looking toward Mr. Porter's sh<
saw that the man who had been look
ing ont of the window, apparently lis
bening, was now climbing out upoi
bhe roof of the shed.
"It must .be the singing-teacher,'
she thought. "Bat what can he b<
getting out of the house in that waj
for?"
The man she was watching droppec
ightly to the ground from the shed
roof and came toward the road. Thei
le leaped the fence and came directly
award the spot where she was hidden
"What shall I do?" thought Rhoda,
frightened half to death. "I don'
lare run and I don't dare scream. Oh,
if Nannie would only come back!"
Being so badly frightened, she die
lothing but shrink back closer into th<
screening shadow of the bush behinc
;vhich.she was sitting.
Then she heard steps coming from
;he opposite direction. Evidently Mr
SVayne had come to meet Bome one
md his visitor was approaching.
The two men met in the sheltering
jhadow of the old cottonwood, not fif
;een feet away from where the fright
jned girl was crouching, her near
seating such a tattoo against her ribi
;hat it seemed to her they must heai
it.
"Is that you, Number Five?" askec
W&yne.
"Yes, it's me," was the reply. -"It'i
seen a bad night for us, captain."
"Yes, it has been a bad night foi
is," responded Wayne. "Number Si:
ias got through with his troubles.".
"They got away all right with th<
lorses from the other place," said th<
nan called Number Five. "They'r<
aot after ub, but I think we'll be abl<
jO throw them off the scent, after all,
When do we leave the swamp, cap
;ain? It's getting to be almost to<
aot for us in this vicinity, ,and th<
jooner we're out of it the better I shal
be satisfied."
"I will join you to morrow night
md we will leave at once,'* replied
Wayne. "See that everything is ir
readiness for a start as soon as I ar
rive. How many horses are there ii
all?"
"Six," was the reply. "That is,
khere will be six if they succeed ii
running in those they got away to
aight. There's the two from Dee:
Creek, the two from the cross-roadi
ind to-night'H haul."
[To be continued.]
A New Foe to American Trees.
Specimens of a ^strange caterpillai
discovered last spring on pear trees ii
Cambridge, Mass., are pronounced bj
Professor Samuel Henshaw to be th<
"goldtail," hitherto unknown as ai
inhabitant of this country, althougl
it is found locally in England, and ii
"abundant in central and southeri
Enrope." When numerous, thes<
caterpillars are very destructive, feed
Ing on such trees and plants as th<
apple, pear, plum, hawthorn, bramble
elm, willow, beech, oak, hazelnut anc
hornbeam. At present the invaderi
in Massachusetts are said to be con
6ned to a limited area in Somervilli
and Cambridge. The first specimen!
seen to have made their appearance i
year ago, and thus far they have con
fined themselves to pear and appl<
trees. How they got across the oceai
nobody apparently knows. It is sug
gested that by vigorous measures thej
may be stamped out.
The U?e of the Garnet.
"The average man, I presume, im
agines tbat garnets are used in oui
line of business exclusively," re
marked a Chicago jeweler the othei
day, "whereas, in fact, the jeweln
trade cuts a small figure in the garne
industry. About three thousand torn
of (rarnets are used every year in this
country for making sandpaper. A
very small portion of the garnets havt
my value to the lapidary, and tue besl
are only semi-precious stones. Tht
costliest comes from the Adirondack
regions and from Delaware County,
Penn. Up in Alaska, near the town ol
Wrangel^is a veritable garnet mountain,
and a corporation has recently
been organized to develop it. The
Alaska garnets are said to be usually
ine."
Building Superintendent Constable
n his recent report says that 3144
lew buildings were erected last year
n New York City at an aggregate
wet of $73,781,945.
j j^W COD A1
'? I have just returned from a voyage c
9 n pursuit of the live cod and hence* f
lorth and forevermore there will be p
idded sweetness to the flavor of the 1
r ish whenever it is my good fortune to r
' lave it placed before me as it should a
e oe served, for the memory of the s
' orave and sturdy seamen who risk s
e iheir lives in all sorts of weather c
ilong a section of the coast that is f
d rtrewn with wrecks of their kind will r
'* ilways remain with me. I
No wind or weather dannts them; 1
8 ;hey face the freshening northeast
y breeze in the full knowledge of the
nessage it may bring them, withont a
a-emor, .and battle with the storms
ind waves with the fervor that brave
r. men display when their lives are at
y stake. All this.along one of the most
II treacherous portions of the Atlantic
0 jeabord, and, although at times they
e some limping into port presenting
i] sorry evidences of the hurricane's fury
%nd reporting possibly the loss of a
8 man or two, they patch up speedily,
replacing a spar here and a breadth of
' canvas there, and are off again almost
g before you know it to make another
(f try at the catch.
It was almost sundown when the
a fishing smack Kitty M. anchored close
j to a dock at Stapleton. Two of the
srew put on id a aory anu vwu mure
y followed them shortly. The first boat
a returned in about half an hour with a
. load of big sea clams, which were
e stored forward. Each boat made seva
eral trips for the clams, which are used
is the" bait for cod, and when enough
. had been procured the boats were
y hoisted on deck and the anchor
weighed. The lights were placed on
f the mainmast shrouds, and just as the
Kitty M. swung around and pointed
a her bow toward the Narrows the cook
j. gave the call for supper.
e After supper the mate and his crew
went to work, with very few words con0
serning what was to be done, although .
f they joked, laughed and chaffed each ,
other the while. Each man knew his
3 duty and performed it mechanically. *
Baskets of clams were thrown up on 1
on/1 fmn nf til# mflTI flflt to OTien- *
. >UVV" 1,14X4 V"v W* "**v ?? T r
j ing them. The clams went into pans
alongside of them; the shells over- 1
, board. The other men, under the eye J
3 of the mate, picked over yard after j
7 yard of stout line strung with numberless
hooks, strengthening the line and 1
j putting fresh hooks at various points. .
To me the lines and hot>ks looked
^ hopelessly tangled, but under the j
rough hands of the men they worked .
dut as smoothly as a skein of yarn is
' wound by a skilful housewife. Then ]
' the pans of , clams were passed down j
and the baiting of the hooks began.
"You are not going to fish to-night?" j
. [ said.
"Oh, no," replied the mate. "We (
? are getting ready for the morning,
rhere's no time for this business \
then."
As soon as one pan of chains was
' emptied it was replaced by another
' fnll nn?. and as each hook was care
. fully hidden the long line was coiled
' so there would be no possibility of a
tangle when it was taken up. The
j. fishermen call this line a "trawl;" in ;
3 the South -it is known as the "trot i
. line." The hooks are attached to the
line by a long snell aud are about four j
j feet apart. In all a trawl line carries
from four to five hundred hooks, and,
3 is the Kitty M. was provided with ten
lines, there was little loafing done in '
f ;he fo'c'stle. 1
i At eleven o'clock Captain Jaok, the <
skipper, walked forward and found *
B chat sis of the trawls had been baited,
j A.s the start had been made so late he <
s 3aid that this would do for the night. 1
j There was no time lost in "turning ]
in," and speedily the crew stowed
themselves away for the night?all ex- 1
j jept the lookout and the pian at the t
3 wheel. At this {tour the Kitty M. wa3 1
j bearing rapidly down the coast, and
the lights of the towns on the north- i
arn shore twinkled far away in the dis- <
1 ? ? ? !?!?<* ? a# olnvo Viaf
j littUUtJ line tt XKJrr ISA j van o muv mmv?
L paused a moment on the horizon to i
Dod a friendly "good night." <
t Long before the sun rose every s?ul <
aboard the Kitty M. was awake and 1
Btirring. The Kitty M., rocking grace- 1
^ fully on 'the gentle swell, was at anchor
about eight miles off Barnegat.
r Two of the dories had already depart- i
3 ed, and the steady click of the oars i
gainst the locks sounded across the 1
r TAKING THE FISH
t quiet water with startling clearness. '
f The third dory, swung by the bow t
t from the shrouds, was soon lowered, (
t stern first, alongside. Then two t
$ trawls, nicely coiled, were handed f
t over. After them came two small j (
; anchors?two kegs about the si&e of a J t
[ small beer keg, painted red and white
) ?a jug of water and tbe oars. Two t
I xl._ ?(T?? ,1 " ,
[ ui me crew, ?/uc uuu uuauvj, I ?
took their seats aud I was given a j i
; place in the stern. With a parting ]
. word of instruction as to location from <
r the captain they pushed away, and the '
I little dory went skimming over the i
' water under the strckea of the sailors c
ike a naphtha launch. | \
When they ha 1 covered about one- (
1 quarter of a mile '"Joe" came to t'ao ' f
stern and fastened a Jon? line to the 1 <
keg, which was dropped overboard. ! 1
1 To the end o? the Hue he uext secured ' i
fie of the anchors, and to this
astened one end of the trawl. As
ilayed ont the anchor tppe the tra
ine followed, and when bottom ?
eached "Charley" started slov
.head with the boat, and "Jo<
tanding up in the stern, kept t
narls out of the trawl with amazi
lexterity and played out foot af1
oot, hook after hook, all baited a
eady. The work was slow, for t
looks must not be twisted around t
ine, for when they are free and cl(
hey are bonnd to hold any ordini
riendly cod that makes their acqnai
ince. Nearly two hours had' past
vhen the end of the second trawl v
eachedand secured by another ancl
ind keg. Leaving the army of hot
esting snugly on the bottom of 1
Atlantic, where the tempting bail
nost Jikely to be encountered by 1
azy cod.' "Joe" and "Charle
owed back to the Kitty M.
The other dories had not returm
Each, manned by two men, had tai
>nt two trawls, and "Joe" and "Ch
ey" were much elated that they 1
* - -I- 4UA 4 ~r,i
Jeen tue ittHt lo bioti ?uu mo uxoi
eturn. When delays of thisnati
>ccur it is usually suspected that i
ines have been tangled. When \
jther dories finally appeared and
aands ware on deck again the capti
ordered the four remaining trai
*
"WHERE THE CREW LIVE.
waited. The work was completed
sleven o'clock, and then dinner ^
mnounced.
After a ten minutes loaf ana smc
m deck the men went to their dori
which had been left alongside, am
pushed off again with '"Joe" a
"Charley." Upon reaching the br
;he keg was detached and stow
iway in the bow, and the anchor f
owed.
Taking np the trawl and standi
n the bow this time, "Joe" began
Iraw in the line and "Charley" rov
ilowly ahead, according to instr
ions. As the-line came in "J<
soiled it deftly, so it could be hand
easily and without snarling. So
;hirty feet of the line had been hau
lp, -when "Joe" suddenly cried:
"Here they come!"
A moment later two big cod, wei|
ng about eight pounds each, w
lapping in the bottom of the be
tVhile they were being unhool
!
I
OFF THE HOOKS.
'Charley" ceased rowing.so as to k<
,he line clear of the bow. Ab<
:ighty cod, running'from three
iwelve pounds, were gathered on t'
on tlio coonnfl t.rnwl TlPa
>ne hundred and twenty-five wi
alcen.
One of the dories had beaten us be
,o the Kitty M., although the cal
lid not run more than one hundri
ind as we drew alongside this dc
jut out again with a new crew and t
)f the newly baited trawls. "Joe" a
'Charley" threw the fish on deck w
icoops, and then each fish was pici
>ver and examined. The lively oi
vere tossed into the well in the cen<
>f the sloop, which is built after 1
liyio of a centreboard well. Hundri
>f holes in the bottom of the tank
ow for a full play of "fresh"' a
vater continually, and cod can live
& well there as they oould anywhere.
|j Those that die, either by the handling
re or through their struggles while on
the hook, and those whioh show signs
db of an approaohing death are packed in
the ice chests.
As the afternoon passed the wind
ar> a A AWAKIVT an/1 a4. anrtaaf
JUG UCOUbUl/U WUDlUOlOViJj UUU MV WMMWvwy
he when the two dories returned from the
wl short haul, the Kitty M. was tossing
'as restlessly and tugging viciously at the
rly anchor, threatening every moment to
5," break away and run. Each dory
he brought back at least seventy-five cod.
ng The codfish grounds visited for the
ter purpose of supplying the New York
nd markets may be found all the way from
he Fire Island to Barnegat. No one can
he tell which will be the best ground unjar
til the season has well started. Some
0t7T THE DOBIES. <
iry years all the cod school to one locality,
nt- and the next winter they all go to anled
other gronnd forty or fifty miles away,
ras Sometimes they divide np and .send
lor equal delegations to both conventions.
)ks This is not considered so fortunate by
;he the fishermen as when they are all
; is together. They are then caught more
;he rapidly, and the trips are shorter and
y" more profitable. The length of the
trip depends entirely upon the catch,
ad. but at the outside it does not extend
:en over ten days to two weeks,
ar- During the season the crew seldom
tad fail to bring in less than three to five
; to hundred fish a day. That is considlre
ered an average haul, but on several
the occasions "Captain Jack" has taken
the close to two thousand in a single day.
all When this happens it means a very
ain short trip, not extending over five or
vis six days, and a handsome profit besides.
PThe next morning tho sea was still
running high and the dories werfe
launched with considerable difficulty.
P As they sped away it seemed as if they
Sg would be swamped every moment.
PI The oarsmen sliced off the tops of the
[- waves with their blades, never losing
a stroke, and disappeared in the gullies
|i as calmly as if they were in a pleasure
EI boat in a placid mountain lake. With
the glasses I watched them pjay out
the trawls. It was slow, tedious work,
?? and they returned nearly an hour later
Sir than usual. The work of making the
haul was even more troublesome; and
a dozen or more of the fish were washed
, overboard while they were being transby
ferred. '
?as While codfish on ice is fresh and
good and makes a wholesome repast,
it loses flavor after death more rapidly
f8' than any other fish in Northern
"I waters. As the live cod are therefore
preferable, and for the reason that
l?y they bring higher prices, the fisheri
men who go out to sea in their stanch
sloops take great pains to bring back
as few fish in their ice boxes as possible.?New
York Herald,
to
Photography and Shooting:.
uc" A miniature photographic camera
... ... ,, ? ._ ^ _
attached to tne Darrei 01 a guu m w?
invention of Mr. Lerchner, of Vienna.
.m? By an automatic shutter, working in
unison with the trigger of the gun,
* the sportsman is able to obtain a per,
feet photograph of the bird or anima]
immediately before the shot or bullet
e*e has reached it.
?at.
Kb In Great Demand.
? "Gentlemen," wrote the editor of
the Boomville Terror, "the Klondyke
fever has hit this community hard.
Please send me at once, by express,
four pounds of cap K's and the same
amount of lower case k's. Can't get
this week's paper out till they come."
?Kansas City Star.
Money Expended on Boobs.
, Germany imports $5,000,000 worth
of books yearly. Of this Austria?
? _!? ai Qrirt nrvn T^r?.fVi
.Hungary mrmsutja ci,ov)u,uw
Switzerland $800,000, France 3700,000,
Holland and Great Britain $400,000
each, Russia $700,000, the United
States $100,000, and other countries
$560,000. "
How to Shake Hands.
A new handshake has arrived from
England. They say-that it is to become
the rage and will entirely super(As
it was done a year ago.)
r
bis ^ ^
(The fashionable mode of to-day.)
lio ca<1n tVio Irnnfrarnn craSD WllicU liaS
xls been fashionable. The new handal
shake is not a shake. The bands
alt meet and gently swing from right to
as left for an iustant.
Of sunlight, clear, unclouded; -'
[f all oar paths were smooth and fair,
By no deep gloom enshrouded, V .74;ggfi
Then we should miss the darker hours, '?'?
Th? Intermlnorllnflr ftadnftfla.' P.tffai
And pray, perhaps, for storms and showet*
To break the constant gladness.
If none were sick and none were said, .
What service could we render?
r think if we were always *lad We
hardly could he, tender.
Did oar beloved never need
Oar tender ministration,
Life would arrow cold, and miss, indeed, - '
Its finest consolation.
If sorrow never smote the heart v
And every wish were granted,
Then faith woald die and hope depart
And life be disenchanted.
ind if in heaven is no more night,
Tn Viaavati la rnvmnm anrniw
8nch unimagined, pure delight & 'V
Fresh worth from pain would borrow,
PITH AND POINT.
There are people who think that if ,
a girl has studied in Europe she
sing?Washington Democrat
The Missionary?VMj friend, wlia? ^
wonld you do if you expected the
of the world in ten days??' The Tramp,
?"Wait for it."?Pnck,
Geraldine?"I wouldn't marry .Toa v ^
If you lived to be a hundred year old." y Y;
Gerald?"Well, you've got sixty yeara T
to change your mind."?Truth.
Lady Cyclist-r-"Oh, dear, this hill p
is so steep I wish I had donkey ' tO'* - r'
tow me up." Gentleman {gallantly)
?Can't I tow you, darling?'>M3tac
dard. '
Class in natural history?"Name^
two animals noted especially for their ^
ferocity." "Two "cats' tied
clo'es line, ma'am."?Chicago
"TViav fiftv t.liftt t.hft Italian rwvnitt.
she married turned out to , be a2 or- ;jj
gan-grinder." "Well at any rat^ he>a had
a handle to hie name.
Ethel (aged six)?"I wonder wheret
all the clergymen come from..'*
Frances (aged flve)-r-"I suppose tha Wj
choir-boys grow up into minister^*
Harper's Bazar.
"De man dat won' be saterfy wif i
nuffin but a sof' snap,' said Uncle' Eben,
"is ginerally de one dat does de */;.
mos' talkin' tout hahd timeif.'W^^
Washington Star.
Baggs?"I -wonder wtoy?T ctog
ways turns around three times before : ^
lying down?" Jaggs?"Probably he V;
thinks that one good tarn deserves,
another."?Chicago News. .
Flora (who has aspirations)?"Don't :
yon think women can do a great fdeal v
to elevate the ptage?" Ed??"Ii *
wouldn't be necessary if they'd lower
their hats."?Harper's Bazar.
Belle?"What makes that. ifissSprocket
so proud?" Bertha?"Why,
didn't you hear ? She advertised ber.
bicycle for sale, and they got it in thi* ?
way, 'A beautiful lady's bicycle for
sale.'"
Mr. Blinking?"Youknow the old <
proverb, 'The beet is the cheapest^
Mrs. Blinking?"Oh, yon are mistaken t
The best is the deadest. I know/ for >
I've asked the prices."?New York,' *
Weekly.
"The fact is," sai d J)awson',' % mar 4^*
ried because I was lonely. To it i ^
tersely, I married-for sympathy."' Sg
"Well, old man," relied his friend i
Haley, you certainly have mine."? . i
Chicago News. : fl
I "It hardly seems meet," said
Cornfed Philosopher,;? *yet it js
doufitedly true, that many a youngwoman
is willing to trust with her ,
heart a young man that no butoher?
will trust for a pound of liver?'-Indianapolis
Journal.
"How old are you?" was asked of ?.
little English girl who is visiting in
Allegheny. "I am six." And how old vV.
is your.cousin?" "He is six,, too* |}j
he has been so longer than I" The
boy was a few months the older.?
Pittsburg Chronicle-Telegraph.
The Enthusiast?4fThe game of goli
consists in getting the balls over theoourse
with the smallest posmbfagiau^'v^
ber of strokes. You can understand
that?" Friend?"Of course. The
players naturally desiree to get throrfgV* ; i
with it as sooifas possible."?Puck.
Parisian Economy.
"In Paris nothing is wasted, not
even the smallest scrap of papfr,
said an observant American who" ha*
reoently returned from the French metropolis,
to a Star reporter yesterdajv ^
"That which nearly every one in thU
country throws away becomee there * ;
source of profit. Old provision tins,
for instance, are full of money: The
1 5 J? Mil nalfoil
I6QU BOIUerilig is ioiuutou) auu wv**w ,-y
down into cakes, while the tin is .sold,
to certain manufacturer a, who convert
the material into children's toys. Old
corks are collected, and when the '
broken, or damaged, parts have been '' \
cut out they are put into water to v,
clean and swell, and are then sold to ^
dealers. Old shoes, however bad, al- ij
ways contain in the arch of the sole J
at least one soundpieoe of leather that^4
will serve again, and generally there 1
are two or three other bits in the heel I
and at the back of a boot that the cob- }
bier will buy. Scraps of paper go to *
the cardboard'factory, orange peel to 1
the marmalade maker, and so on.?
Washington Star.
A Railway to Heooa.
About 100,000 Muslim pilgrims visit
the sacred city of Mecca every year on
the ocoasion of the pilgrimage, and
there is very considerable traffic be*
tween Yembo and Medina, the birthplace
of the prophet. It is now pro- *
posed by a London' Syndicate to construct
a railway between Yembo, Medina
and Mecca. A difficulty, however,
arises not from the natural features
of the country, which are exceedingly
favorable for the construc 1
L_J. t??
tion ot a railway, uui> uuu ui?
liar rites of the Hajj, or pilgrimage,
which were instituted at a time when
railways were never dreamed of. It
is, however, probable that a railway
will be constructed from Yembo to
Medina, a distance of 130 miles, thus
leaving the rest of the joarney to the
sacred shrine to be trndged on foot.
Five kittle Pics Sold For 91180. j
That the prices of live stook are J
rapidly increasing in Iowa is shown m
by the records of some Poland Ohina
pig sales recently. JS. M. Metzgar ^
sold one pig to S. E. Shellenberger, '
of Camden, Ohio, for $683. A litter
of five pigs born in February last
brought $1150. In all forty-one pigs
were sold, netting $3900.?New York
San.
dfibt