The Manitowoc pilot. [volume], November 15, 1900, Image 7

About The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932

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| Mrs. Bolton’s Kindness [
£ By Anne S. Deas. 4
(trout iht* Latin s’ Worhl. New York. Kepr'iteU hj
tipeci.il i*eiiuiuiua.)
ML'S. HOLTON vv ;is a widow, “fair,
fat ai.it forty," and— as she was
wont to say of herself —with no non
sense about her. She was in easy cir
cunis: ances, was very kind-hearted,
and had a passion for helping other
people—a passion whieh, as she had
no cnildlren, she had'ample leisure to
indulge.
Om bright spring morning, Mrs.
Bolton set out on her cnaily rounds of
kindness. First on her path eatne the
cottage of old Miss Martha Fairchild,
a gentlewoman in reduced 1 circum
stances. whose hereditary tastes had
clung to her through dark days and
biting poverty.
What if tlie china ornaments on
Miss Martha’s mantelpiece were com
mon, and the fancy-work trifles'were
faded? To Miss Martha each was in
vested with a radiance of its own -
the lingering reflection of happier
days. Collectively, they might have
been considered its representing Miss
Martha s share of tlie world's refine
ment and taste —the pictures and'stat
uary which, had- she been wealthy and
liberally educated, would have
adorned' her luxurious apartments.
Miss Martha had opened the doors
\ and windows to let in the fresh spring
■ air, and was moving gently about the
, room, dusting her art-treasures and
’ crooning some old, forgotten love
, song. At the sound of Mrs. Bolton’s
loud, decided voice, she started like a
. guilty thing, and nearly' dropped the
. little gilt china box from which site
was so tenderly removing the dust.
. “Tidying up, hey. Miss Martha;
, That’s right! Now, see here—]
haven’t much to do this morning; snp
] pose I give this room a thorough
] cleaning for you? Wouldn’t you like
that?—if will save your poor back, you
, know.”
] In vain did Miss Martha protest that
I the room was clean, and that she
swept and dusted it every day. Mrs,
i Bolton merely assured her that site
1 “did l not mind' it in the least,” and
I went on piling up the tire with Miss
Martha's carefully hoarded ‘‘kind
ling." Then she filled the kettle and
put it on, leaving a big splash of water
on the clean hearth.
“My-the-oye. Miss Martha,” she re
marked as she turned away from the
fireplace, "it does sound real cheerful
to hear people singing at their work;
but don't you think that at your age
you ought to be singing something
different from those light and trifling
• songs? A hymn now, or one of the
psalms, would be so much more suit
, able.”
Fortunately, there was no need for
her to answer, for Mrs. Holton forth
with seized the broom, chased the as
tonished cat out of the cushioned arm
chair, and' proceeded to sweep and
dlist and bent and bang until Miss
Martha's poor head swam. She math
fresh rents in the precious old chintz
curtains, and tore off from the ear
pet a handful of tatters which, being
far beyond lhe”7rmiistrations of needh
and thread, were every morning laid
deftly back in place by Miss Martha's
patient fingers. Next, she brought a
bowl of hot water, in which to scrub
the host of china knickknacks; and
Miss Martha's heart sent up a silent
hymn of thanksgiving when she was
given the towel and allowed to dry
them herself. Poor Miss Martha held
her breath when the little china Jinx
went down into the howl; she shivered
ns the Praying .qiiel took his
plunge; and she gate a great sigh of
relief as she returned the last china
dog 1 in safety to its place.
Then Mrs, Holton turned to the ar
ticles hanging on the walls. The
sampler (fortunately for it) was
framed; but on each side of the chim
ney hung a trifle or two made of per
forated paper. .Miss Martha had never
know u what use these were intended
for: but. all the same, they were the
pride of her heart—they were “so
tasty.” On these Mrs. Holton laid sud
den hands.
“I never could see why you keep these
[faded things hanging up,” she re
marked. “They are nothing but dust
itraps! Don’t you think they had hel
per go into the fire?”
"Oh, don’t! cried Miss Martha, pite
ion sly; “please don’t! ”
Hut it was too late: they were
'already curling up in (he flames.
1 “I think the room looks- very ntoe.”
remarked Mrs. Holton, complacently,
as she tied on her bonnet. “Now. be
r sure to let me know when you want
'heip again.”
( Miss Martha thanked her feebly,
[while the tears kept dropping on the
(package of choice Hyson tea which
[Mrs. Holton had laid on the table. And
when Mrs. Holton wu fairly gone, and
[l’ns came peeping cautiously in and
[sprang into her mistress’ lap with an
(affectionate mew. Miss Martha clasped
[this sympathetic friend to her heart
(and cried bitterly.
i Hut Miss Holton went on her way re
[juicing. The path to the; village lay
[through a tiny bit of woods, where the
[ground sloped away tea little hollow,
fl he spring sunshine lay on everything
t—on the young leaves, on the roek>- be-
Hde ( he path, on the little grei n thmgs
(pushing their heads up from under last
year’s fallen leaves. The birds sang
Vayly. the hum of bees came from the
(fragrant crah-apple tree that stood
• ike a pink and white cloud be wide the
way, and a tiny thread of water mur
mured n glad little song to itself as it
hurried over the pebbles. Vet Mrs
Holton saw and. heard none of these
•hings. She walked in the sunshine of
• kind deed performed, and heard the
inaudible ble-Pngs of a grateful heart,
i he next house she reached, was that
ot .Mrs. Skelton, whose little boy hart
been very iii. and was now mending
slowly. As she entered the gate, a
maidservant carrying a tray with a
tiny covered pitcher, came out of the
house opposite. Now, the arrival of
111 is dainty little tray —which never
failed to come over at lunch time—was
the event of Johnny Skelton's day, and
the contents of that altogethi r delight
ful little pitcher formed his must en
joyable meal. Mrs. Holton knocked
loudly and walked in. asi was her wont;
but as she turned to shut the door she
saw the servant, and stopped to take
the message.
"Wait a minute, Jane,” she said, “and
I’ll give you back the pitcher.”
"No matter, ma'am. Mrs. Truntann
expects the tray to go up to Johnny as
it stands.”
"No. I'd rather empy the pitcher;
there is always a chance of getting
tilings broken.”
So -he turned into the dining-room,
and poured the contents of the pitcher
into orfb of the children's thick ehina
breakfast-imtgts, returned tlie pitcher
and tray to Jane, and went triumphant
ly upstairs with the mug in her hand.
Mrs. Skelton met her at tlie door.
“Oh. is it you. M rs. Bolton ? Excuse my
not coming down—l thought J heard
Jane’s voice, and called to Iter to come
np."
“Jane was there; hut T gave her back
the pitcher, and brought the stuff up
to save trouble. Here, Johnny, don't
you want your corn-starch?’’
It was pitiful to see how the thin lit
tle face fell, and what a piteous look
came into the big eyes as the number
and magnitude of his misfortunes
dawned upon Johnny. No peep into
the mysterious little pitcher, no fold
ing up of the edged doily, no studying
of the wonderful Japanese tray while
mamma poured the cornstarch or the
sionp into his own little pink cup—but
instead this horrid old chipped mug of
Dicky’s!
“Don’t put in any sugar, Mrs. Bol
ton!" exclaimed Mrs. Skelton. "John
ny doesn't like things sweet.”
“Oh. children always like sugar,” re
joined Mrs. Holton, calmly, dipping up
a spoonful from the little sugar-dish on
the mantel-piece and stirring it into
the cornstarch. “Come. Johnnie, drink
this now like a good boy.”
i’oor Johnnie took the cup in his
trembling hands; but the mouthful of
thick china and the sickening sweet
ness of the food were too much for hint
—he held tlie cup off despairingly and
burst into tears..
“Never mind, son,” said his mother,
taking tlie eup from him, “I’ll make
yon something else.
But Johnny shook his head. He
wanted that, not something else—and
it w as all spoiled !
“Are you not ashamed to be such a
naughty little boy, .Johnny?” stcrnlj
demanded Mrs. Holton. while his moth
er tenderly stroked the pale little face
half-buried, in the pillow, from tlie
depths of which a stifled sob heaved up
now and then.
“Well.” said Mrs. Holton, after wait
ing in vain for an answer, “if there is
nothing else I can do to help yon. Mrs.
-kelton. I will go on and t e how Mart
Carnthers is. (lood-by. Johnny. I hip
von mean to be a pood boy. and not
worry your poor mother so.”
Johnny’s tears burst afresh as the
oor closed behind her.
“I didn’t mean to he bad, mamma:
but 1 couldn’t help it!"
“I know yon eonldn’t. darling." sh(
replied, and stood silently stroking 1 his
hair and wondering how she could
make up for his disappointment. A pen
ile tap was heard at the door, and Mrs.
Trnmann entered, bringing another
charming little pitcher with a butter
fly for a handle.
".lane told me that Mrs. Holton ban
taken the tray.” she remarked, smil
ingly, “so I went directly into the pan
try and made Johnny some more!”
Mrs. Holton, meanwhile, pursued her
way: but the summer of her content
was not quite so sweet and warm a
- she had left Mbs Martha's.
Johnny's ingrati mle had rather upse t
her. and she felt disposed to take
gloomy views of the selfishness of hu
man nature.
She turned into the gate of a pretty
cottage, and being admitted—not with
the best grace in the world—by the
red-armed cook, betook herself to the
nearest door, tapped at it. and entered.
Two girls were the only occupants of
the room—a dainty girl's room, as
-wcet and fresh as the owner’s heart
Cue of the girls, evidently an inval: '
lay on n lounge, the other sat on ;
Iwe chair, sewing, Mrs. Holton drew
a chair e!o.-e to the lounge, and. after
minute inquiries into the invalid's ail
ments. inquired:
“Where is your mother. m\ dear’. 1
I hop'- she has not broken down from
over-fatigue?”
“Oh. no!" quickly replied Jessie Fa
rut’ ers. heed'tss of her sister's warn
ing frown, “she has only gone to the
picnic for an hour or two; we thought
the fresh air would do her so much
pood. When she comes"back to take
charge of Mary. I am to go.”
“(Vhat picnic? I never heard any
t ,mg of a picnic.”
“Oh. it is quite an informal tiling.”
said Mary Carnthers: “just a few fam
ilies that have agreed to spend the
da\ together in the woods just out
side the village.”
“Ah, that's where Lawrence Steele
was dashing to this morning, with his
road-cart full of flowers! 1 might have
known something was on hand! What
a pity that you can't go. Mary—you
used to enjoy these things so much!
\ud now here yon are, shut up in a
sick-room, while the other young peo
ple are walking about and gathering
wild-flowers.”
“I must not think of it.” said Mart,
gently; but her eyes filled with tears,
and for an Instant a wild longing seized
her—a craving such ns only those wh<
ire cut off from the outside world cat
know for il e fre • breath of tht hi
aides. atJ the t. .u of tL,.
-•pring woods, and the gurgle of the
i mining stream.
"it does seem a shame, too.” Mrs.
Holton continued, "that Jessie can't
spend the w hole day in the w oods when
die ear enjoy it! Stop. I have it—Jes
sie. run ami put your things right on;
I'll take care of Mary for yon. Then
you can tell your mother not to hurry,
yon know.”
"1 don't quite think mamma would
like it.” said .Jessie, hesitatingly.
“Oh, nonsense! Run right off and
get ready; your mother won't mind.”
Jessie knew that her mother would
“mind;" hut Mrs. Holton's words had
culled up a vision for her. too—not so
much of "trees and babbling - brooks”
is of a certain handsome dark head,
bending low to catch her lightest word.
“Would you mind it so very much
if I went?" she asked, leaning over
her sister's couch. "You have had your
beef-tea.”
"(lo if you like," was all that Mary
could bring herself to say. It was hor
ribly selfish, she' felt, to wish poor
Tessie to stay away from that glorious
outer world; hut then, it was hard to
be left alone with Mrs. Holton,
But Jessie was glad of any permis
sion. and hurried off.
Mrs. Bolton spent the next 10 or 15
minutes in “straightening up the
room,” as site called it —a process
which nearly drove poor Mary frantic.
Then came the sound of rapid wheels
in the quiet street, and Mis. Caruthers
entered, saying:
"Put on your hat, Jessie; Lawrence
is waiting for you.”
“Jessie has gone, mamma; didn't
yon meet her?"
There was nothing to he done but
to go to tlie door and tell Lawrence
Steele that the bird had flown. Jessie
must have gone by the foot path, and
so could not be overtaken by a ve
hicle.
"f suppose Miss Jessie did not care
to go with me!” exclaimed Lawrence,
testily. “She must have known I was
sure to come for her!" And giving his
horse a sharp cut with the whip, he
dashed off.
For, unfortunately, the possessors
of handsome dark heads are not al
ways the possessors of angelic tem
pers, and in general do not like to
have their little plans interfered with.
As Mrs. Carnthers reentered the
room. Mrs. Holton rose to go.
“I believe 1 will step on and help
them at the picnic.” she remarked, ns
she put on her bonnet. “I daresay
.-you can spare me now, Mary, since
your mother has come. Hut I won't
dine there, of course, as 1 was not
invited.”
Coud-bys were exchanged, and off
she vent.
“I am so sorry about Lawrence,”
said Mrs, Carnthers, when she heard
the front door slain. “He seemed
really hurt. I think he admires Jes
sie—and it would lie such n good
match for her; unexceptionable in
every way.”
“It is too had!” responded Mary;
an 1 the mother mid daughter re
mained gazing gloomily at the floor—
much as they might have done if the
best china teaset lay there in frag
ments before them.
Our friend journeyed complacently
on; hut the way was long, and when
she reached her destination she was
chagrined to find that the prepara
tions for dinner were nearly com
pleted. Two or three ladies were un
packing the last basket, and assured
her that there was nothing more to
be done.
“What a pity that 1 came so late!”
she said, regretfully. “Sliii. I'll walk
around and see if all is right. Some
body may have forgotten something.”
Tin l ladies were so sure that noth
ing had been forgotten that they al
lowed her to walk around unattended.
Hut iu the course of her perambula
tions she came upon a great bowl
of crisp lettuce leaves, set away in a
shady place that seemed to do duty
tis a side table. Near it reposed a
smaller bowl with a quantity of the
cream mayonnaise, on which young
Mrs. Vaneer so justly prided herself
Mrs. Vaneer had taken charge of the
salad, and had made up her mind that
it should 1 be served iu her style.
“.Vow, just see!" said Mrs. Holton
to herself. “The chicken salad is not
even cut up! and ns for the dressii ■!
it is entirely .too thick. It ought to
he thinned down with at least a pint
of vinegar."
\ knife and fork and a large dish
of sliced ham were temptingly at
hand- Mrs. Holton was a quick work
er—and in a very short time the ham
gather, saturated with the inayoti*
and tiu 1 lettuce w re cut up. mixed to
nai.-e (which had been duly “thinned
down” with the contents of the vin
egar bottle), and patted neatly into
shape in the big bowl, in which it
rose like a smooth, round topped,
green and pink hill.
“If I only had seme sliced bee and
turnips and some hard-boiled e tigs I"
she sighed, "how prettily I could t > ! in
it for them! Hut I’ve done the best
I could—l must slip otT now before
they try to stop me. (ioodness gra
cious, Jessie Carnthers! what a start
you gave me! I thought you’d be
yonder with all the young people.
‘Too tired,’ eh? wy, wat else could
you expect, if you walked here? And
if you’d only had waited a little while,
you would have got a ride with Law
rence Steele. He brought your moth
er home, just after you started. Well,
f he isn't carrying on with that An
derson girl! I shouldn't wonder if
:e was engaged to her before the day
i.i over. He’s real mad with you,
* hough. I can tell you! (iood-by—l
r.’tdly can’t stop to dinner!”
Mrs. Holton went home a happy
woman—happy in the thought of a
day spent in doing kindness to oth
ers; and when she laid her head upon
the pillow that night, it was with the
serene consciousness of beinj bot'.i
useful and beloved.
j A “Strike" ca Stip-Eeal;
V By George H. Cooiaer. \
IT IS seldom that a whaler has a
better crew than had the slip Au
droinaehe, during a voyage that 1
once made in her. The greater pari
of her hands were young men vvitli
high and just appreciations iu the
business they had adopted. Our boat
steerers were flue, capable f. Hows,
and as to our three mates, they were
men who went about their duties iu a
sturdy, sensible manner, without
abusing those under them.
But there was one serious draw
back to our content. Our cap'aiu, be
sides being a harsh man, was so ex
tremely close-fisted as to begrudge
us every mouthful of provision that
we consumed. Interested in the ves
sel as a part owner, he appeared to
think that we were really doing fhiii
an injury by eating at all; so that
voheuever anew barrel of beet was
"broken out," as the term is, we were
sure to bear a violent outburst from
him about our wastefulness.
Nevertheless, in the earlier part of
the voyage we fared tolerably well in
spite of his fault-finding. While lie
confined himself to mere wor- >. we
could put down the "salt junk in
silence, and feel equal to a 20-mi-e pull
at the oars or a 12 hours’ task at
"cutting in." However weary vv,
might be, it was a great satisfaction
to reflect that a good solid meal of
beef and bread awaited us •* the end
of our work.
But at length there came a change.
\Ve were cruising in the South Atlan
tic, away down by Tristan de \eiinha.
when the "old man," as we called him,
introduced a "reform" in our manner
of living, putting us on an allowance
of one pound of beet and bone per
day for each man. with but a short
supply of bread.
A pound of clear beef, with a fair
quantity of bread, might have suf
ficed; but the beef and bone were
weighed out together, and it often
happened that there was as much
bone as meat.
Whales were abundant, but some
what wild, and we had many a long
cause for nothing, although tolerably
successful upon the whole. \N he never
a whale was killed, if the ship hap
pened- to be to the leeward, he must
be towed to her by long and tedious
rowing: and then came the cutting,
the hoisting and all the incidental
work of t he occasion.
The shipkeeper and the boat steer
ers had tUe same fare as the foremast
hands, and were equally a- discon
tented. The condition of tilings had
become intolerable, and vve deter-
mined upon a "revolution.” It should
be a “peaceable revolution, but ef
fective and complete.
"No more whaling on empty stom
achs," vve said; “let the full-fed ones
caych the whales.”
It was settled that the shipkeeper
should be our spokesman to the cap
tain, presenting our ultimatum as to
what vve would and would not do.
No positive mutiny should be set on
foot, no criminal act committed; but
either vve must have a full allowance
of provisions or the ship must In
headed for home —otherwise we would
refuse duty.
Having decided upon our course of
action, vve marched aft in a body to
tlie quarter deck, the shipkeeper car
rying our last "kid" of beef, which
contained a bone almost as large as a
quadrant and nearly of the same
sh ape.
“(apt. Winthrop," said 'he old tar.
respectfully, "the crew ask me to
speak for 'em, and I have brought aft
their allowance to show you what sort
of fare they have. Yon see this big
bone, sir. and can judge for yourself
.i>vv much nu at vvi.l b ■ left when the
weight of tills is taken out. 1 speak
lor the boat steereis and myself, as
well as for the for'ard bands. What
vve want is a full nllov auee of meat
and bread, sir. aril vve can’t work
without it.”
He put tin* "kid" down on the deck.
■ iTi< 1 held up the huge beef bon;*, with
its thin covering of meat and gristle.
"1 don't care what yon want!"
roared the eaptain, savagely. “I’m
not going to have yon running <o me
with every bone you happen to find
in a piece of beef! do forward— all
of you—-and don’t let me hear any
more of your grumbling! I’m cap
tain of this ship, and 1 shall feed you
as I think best!"
“Well, sir." replied the shipkeeper.
in a decided tone, "thin vve ask yon
to head the ship for home -our whal
ing is up!"
“Ah!" ejaculated the captain, “your
whaling is tip, is it? Mutiny, you ras
cals! mutiny, eh?”
“No, sir, there is no mutiny. We
will go to work the moment you agree
to feed us as we ought to be fed, but
not before, except so far as to lake
the ship home."
“You’re a fine lot of mutineers, I
must say!” cried the commander.
“And as for you, shipkeeper, I’ve a
good mind to put you in irons! Re
fuse duty, do you? I’ll see whether
or not you’ll obey orders when the
time comes!”
We went forward, even tin* helms
man leaving his post so that, the offi
cers had to steer. It was our resolu
tion not to touch brace nor bowline,
tuck or sheet, unless one or the other
of our demands should lie complied
with, and should a hundred whales
come alongside, they might remain
there undisturbed for aught that we
would do to molest them. Vet vve
really did hope to see a spout, ns this,
we felt, would nt once bring matters
to a climax.
On the Jay previous w. h;.d cbasei.
a consul; cable school uu> mei essr.iiy,
and it might at any moment la- redis
covered. Although we lad “given up
whaling.” we hud never been moie
anxious to fall in with whales
“Von. steward,” we heard the rnp
tain say. "don't yon weigh out an
other mouthful of grub for the men
till they return to duly! Cook, take
care that, they get nothing from the
galley!”
Tim affair was getting complicated.
Could it be that after all we must re
sort to forte?
"If it comes to that,” said one of the
boat steerers. "we’ll stop the steward
from taking any grub into the cabin.
We'll just tell the cook to stand' aside,
and we’ll do oar own cooking.”
“I hope we shall raise that school
of whales again before night," re
marked one of our young fellows.
“We ought to have kept our lookouts
aloft, the same as ever.”
“No.” replied the shipkeeper;
“we've nothing more to do with look
outs. Let the old man find whales
for himself —we’re out of that busi
ness."
“Mut then, you know." said another,
“the sooner we raise one, the sooner
we'll bring the old man to his senses.”
The shipkeeper was about answer
ing, when a stirring call rang out
from the quarter deck.
“There she blows!"
It was the voice of the chief mate.
Starting up, we saw directly off the
ship’s quarter and hot more than half
a mile distant, two large whales., one
of which lay spouting upon tin l water,
while the other was just, in the act of
shooting' above the surface.
The captain, flew around like a wild
man.
“Heave aback the main yard!” he
shouted, looking straight at us.
We made no motion more than deaf |
men might have done. Then he rushed
forward, stamped upon the deck, and
shook his fist in our faces.
“You mutinous scoundrels," he cried.
“I’ll have everyone of you imprisoned
for ten years as soon as I get ashore!
Heave aback that yard, I tell you!”
“('apt. Winthrop,” said the ship
keeper, "do yoei think that hungry men
—men half starved—are going to catch
whales for you? All these men, sir.
would lx* as g'.ad to catch them as you
would. They will obey you the (mo
ment you give them enough to eat; but
they won't pull round a yard or lower a
boat as the case stands.”
“We’re running right away from the
whales every minute!" exclaimed the
commander, whirling about on his heel.
“Mr. Hrown, let go that lee main brace!
Mr. Wells, grab hold here with me!
Hare cook! here, steward! stir your
stumps, and rouse away to get this
yard round!”
“It's of no use to heave to. ('apt.
Winthrop.” said the chief mate; “the
men won't go in the boats.”
“Vo use. you say. Mr. Wells? IT
make it of use. They shall go!”
So they hauled the yard aback, and
the ship's course was stopped -the
whales all the whih spouting in plain
view, ns if waiting for us to come and
get them.
Then the little drama went on—the
.plain stamping and threatening, and
the crew standing dumb and iuitnov
ihle. without the least sign of excite
ment.
We would not man the boats; we
I would not do a single thing except
t o si and t here and listen.
“What do you want?" he at length
cried. "How much can you get down
your good-for-nothing throats?"
Ah. ha! he was coming around. We
knew that our jxiint was gained the
i■: m.. nt that he jerked out those sav
age questions.
"We want (wo pounds of beef to a
man hones and all and a pound of
bread," replied the ship-keep r, "If
iv e find it to he more than we need, we
will ■ pnrt t i von, sir: lint that is what
vv e a*k for now
"There’s a ship in sight to the wind
ward, sir." e.ilied the mate, just at this
maim nI.
If anything further had been needed
to luni the scale in our favor, it was
preei-eh this,
\ ship in sight! This meant that
our terms must be closed with at once,
or the stranger would gel the whales,
though she could not yet have discov
ered them.
The captain’s common sense got the
better of his stubbornness. Me would
not put out his own eyes to spite ids
crew.
"Well.” he snarled, impatiently, “re
turn to your duty and man the boats
at once. Consider this matter settled
—you shall have what you have asked
for."
Still we diil not move,
“We want the thing well understood
on Iwil h sides," said t he shipkeeper, "so
that there’ll he no trouble in the fnt tire.
You agree that every man in I lie steer
age and forecastle shall have a daily al
lovvanee of two pounds of neat and a
youndo' bread?"
"Vi . yes! What do you mean? Can’t
you believe me? Turn to and man the
boats, men."
“ Two pounds of meat and a pound nt
bread," eal mly repealed the shipkeep
er. “and the allowance to begin to
day?"
“Yes, yes. yes! two lanunds of meat
and a pound of bread and the allowance
to begin to-day. 1 agree to nil this.”
“Then, sir." was the reply, “it is all
settled, and we return to duty."
“Down with the boats!" cried the
eaptnin.
\nd in a few minutes, we were pulling
off from the ship with strong, sweeping
strokes.
That evening we had both the large
whale* alongside, and were refreshed
after our labor by a plentiful supper
which the cook bed prepared in our ab
sence.
During the voyage we had no fur
ther trouble about provisions, and the
\ndroinaehe flnnllv arrived hcmu* full
of oil. with all hands iu excellent spir
its. Getclen a.
DR. F. H. QEHBE
DENTIST.
COR. BTH AND FRANKLIN OPP. WAGNER’S STORE
* ** I- /V ' ' always has been the best. Twenty- I
T*Y VX Honey and Tar, because it was a
-• sure remedy, has brought its reward
\ \ v) IT --• ' n 1 sales and many friends.
\ ! li’s still the same guaranteed-to- L
t ' -A
cure-or-money-back remedy. j ;
AIL" j\ ‘'-Jv \ \\o£S.\ \ *. It will cure all coughs and colds,
A wi\ \\ •’ croup and whooping cough, ia
£*C,O-' \ grippe and bronchitis. It will
, I .i-.it. \Q- ■\ ) relieve asthma and consumption,
CMy: — I even the worst cases, and will pre-
W J vent pneumonia. It’s guaranteed.
\ ,7 For cuts, bruises or sores
\ ' \\ BANNER SALVE is best,
Henry Hinrichs, Druggist.
CHAS. F. FECHTER’S
South Side Book Store.
.. it For Weddings,
Suitable Gifts Birtl , days>
Card Parties,
Suitable Prices Holidays
We carry a full line of the
PERRY PICTURES at | C
each for decorating the home, the school,the office etc
HENRY ESCH.
We would like to have you inspect our new fall
line of Dress (ioods, Elannels, Cloakings, Outings
Laces, Trimmings, Cloaks, Shawls Capes, Etc.
In our Clothing Department we are showing new
fabrics in Suits and Overcoats for Men, Boys and
Children at great values,
Now is the time to supply yourself with Under
wear, Caps, (iloves and /Mittens. We carry- as usual
a large assortment of the above and at reasonable
prices.
HENRY ESCH.
Tor Coughs and 'Colds
Of any kind take Alters Syrup of Tu
mid Wild t’herrv It will cun* any col 1
in the shortest possible time. It is per
fectly harmless and made of>*the very
best drills, livers h itlle is warranted.
Any person not satistiedjjwill have his
money refunded upon demand Syrup
of Tar and Wild < 'hem is put up in 2a
and ad cent bottles
Oscar A At.TK.it,
Prescription I irumrist.
We Guarantee
You the best footwear
that money can buy.
Years of experience. A
clean Record and a low
price for the best goods.
DIPDDP RIJDT YORK STREET, 1 door wc?t
rils,rvvLC DUIvP of Chis. Saiak Cos