Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 85, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 April 1916 — Page 3

The SEA WOLF

JACK LONON

SYNOPSIS. Humphrey Van Weyden, critic and dilettante, is thrown into the water toy the sinking of a ferryboat in a fog in San FrancWco bay. and becomea unconscious before help reaches him. On coming to his senses he finds himself aboard the sealing schooner Ghost, Captain Wolf Larsen, bound to Japan waters, witnesses the death of the first mate and hears the captain curse the dead man for presuming to die at the beginning of the voyage. The captain refuses to put Humphrey ashore end makes him cabin boy “for the good of his soul.” Humphrey sees the body of the mate dumped into the sea. He begins to learn potato peeling and dish washing under the cockney cook, Mugrldge, is caught by a heavy sea shipped over the quarter as he Is carrying tea aft and his knee is seriously hurt, but no one pays any attention to his injury. Hump’s quarters are changed aft Mugrldge steals his money and chases him when accused of It. Later he listens to Wolf give his idea of life—“like yeast a ferment . . . the big •at the little . .

CHAPTER Vl—Continued. A cruel thing happened Just before supper, Indicative of the callousness and brutishness of these men. There Is one green hand In the crew, Harrison by name, a clumsy-looking country boy, mastered, I imagine, by the spirit of adventure, and making his first voy age. In some way, when Harrison was aloft, the sheet Jammed in the block through which it runs at the end of the gaff. As 1 understood it, there were two ways of getting it cleared — first, by lowering the foresail, which was comparatively easy and without danger; and, second, by climbing out the peak.-halyards to the end of the gaff itself, an exceedingly hazardous performance. Johansen called out to Harrison to go out the halyards. The Ghost was rolling emptily in a long sea, and with each roll the halyards slacked and Jerked taut. They were capable of snapping a man off like a fly from a Whiplash. Harrison heard the order and hesi tated. It was probably the first time he had been aloft in his life. Johansen burst out with a volley of abuse and curses. "That’ll do, Johansen,” Wolf Larsen said brusquely. “I’ll have you know that 1 do the swearing on this ship If I need your assistance, I'll call you In.” "Yes, sir,” the mate acknowledged submissively. In the meantime Harrison had started out on the halyards. Tt was a slight uphill climb, for the foresail peaked high. When he was half way • out, the Ghost took a long roll to windward and back again into the hollow between two seas. It was the snap of the whip. His clutch was broken. His body pitched out and down, but in some way he managed to save himself with his legs, hanging head downward. A quick effort brought his hands up to the halyards again; but he was a long time regaining his former position, where he hung, a pitiable object “I’ll bet he has no appetite for supI heard Wolf Larsen’s voice, which came to me around the corner of the galley.

“It’s a shame," I heard Johnson growling in painfully slow and correct English. He was standing by the main rigging, a few feet away from me. “The boy is willing enough. He will learn if he has a chance. But this is—” He paused awhile, for the word “murder” was his final judgment. “Hist, will ye!” Louis whispered to him. "For the lave iv your mother hold your mouth!" It took Harrison fully ten minutes to get started again. A little later he made the end of the gaff, where, astride the spar Itself, be cleared the sheet, and was Ifree to return. But he had lost his nerve. Johansen called vainly for him to come down. At any moment he was liable to be snapped off the gaff, but he was helpless with fright. Wolf Larsen, walking up and down with Smoke and in conversation, took no more notice of him, though he cried sharply once to the man at the wheel: “You’re off your course, my man! Be careful, unless you’re looking for trouble!"

“Ay, ay, sir,” the helmsman responded, putting a couple of spokes down. He had been guilty of running the Ohost several points off her course in order that what little wind there was should fill the foresail and hold it steady. He bad striven to help the unfortunate Harrison at the risk of Incurring Wolf Larsen’s anger. Fully half an hour went by, and then I saw Johnson and Louis in some sort of altercation. It ended with Johnson flinging off Louis’ detaining arm and starting forward. He crossed the deck, sprang into the fore rigging, and began to climb. But the quick eye of Wolf Larsen caught him. “Here, you, what are you up to?” he •ried. ■, , Johnson’s ascent was arrested. He lcoked his captain in the eyes and •wplied slowly: “I am going to get that boy down.” "You’ll get down out of that rigging, and damnlively about it! D’ye hear? Get down!" • .. Johnson hesitated, but the long gears of obedience to. the masters of ships overpowered him, and he dropped sallealy to the deck and went on for-

■ At half after five 1 went below to set the cabin table, but I hardly knew what I did, for my eyes and brain were filled with tbe vision of a man, whltefaced and trembling, comically like a bug, clinging to tbe thrashing gaff. At’ six o’clock, when I served’supper, going on usck tc get the food from the galley, I saw Harrison, still In the same position. The conversation at the table was of other things. Nobody seemed Interested In the wantonly Imperiled life. But, making an extra trip to the galley a little later, I was gladdened by the sight of Harrison staggering weakly from the rigging to the forecastle settle. He had finally summoned the courage to descend. Before closing this Incident, 1 must give a scrap of conversation 1 had with Wolf Larsen In the cabin, while I was washing dishes. “You were looking squeamish this afternoon,” he began. “What was the matter?” I could see that he knew what had made me possibly as sick as Harrison, that he was trying to draw me, and I answered, “It was because of the brutal treatment of that boy.” He gave a short laugh. “Like seasickness, I cuppose. Some men are subject to It, and others are not.” “Not so,” I objected. “Just so,” he went on. “The earth Is as full of brutality as the sea is full of motion. And some men are made sick by the one, and some by the other. That’s the only reason." “But you, who make a mock of human life, don’t you place any value upon it whatever?” I demanded. “Value? What value?” ’He looked at me, and though his eyes were steady and motionless, there seemed a cynical smile in them. “What kind of value? How do you measure it? Who values It?” “1 do,” I made answer. “Then what Is It worth to you? Another man’s life, 1 mean. Come, now, what is it worth ?’» Tbe value of life? How could I put a tangible value upon It? Somehow, 1. who have always had expression.

“You’re Off Your Course, My Man."

lacked expression when with Wolf Larsen. The sacredness of life I had accepted as axiomatic. That it was intrinsically valuable was a truism 1 bad never questioned. But when he challenged the truism 1 was speechless. “We were talking about this yesterday," he said. “I held that life was a ferment, a yeast, something which devoured life that it might live, and that living was merely successful piggishness. Why, if there is anything in supply and demand, life is the cheapest thing in the world. There is only so much water, so much earth, so much air; but the life that is demanding to be bora is limitless. Nat tare is a spendthrift. Life? Bah! It has no value. Of chefop things it is the cheapest. Everywhere it goes begging. Nature spills it out with a lavish hand. Where there is room for one lije. she sowb a thousand lives, and it’s life oats life till the strongest and most piggish life is left.” “You have read Darwin.” I said. “But you read him mlsunderstandingly when you conclude that the struggle for existence sanctions your wanton destruction of life.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You know you only mean that ty relation to human life, for of the flesh and fowl and the flsb you destroy as much as I or any other man. And human life is in no wise different, though you feel it is and think that you reason why it is. Why should I be parsimonious with this life which is so cheap and without value?" He started for the companion stairs, but turned-his head for a final word. “Do you know the only value life has Is what life puts upon itself? And it is of course overestimated, since it is of necessity prejudiced In its own favor. Take that man I had aloft He held on as if be were a precious thing, a treasure beyond diamonds or rubies. Toyoaf No. Toma? Not stall. Tc

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER, IND.

• ■ ■ ■ tale\ LON- A A EX- )\ :e is H ALL J I-ytS-AURILE-EEN-

himself? Yes. But 1 do not accept his estimate. He sadly overrates himself. There is plenty more life demanding to be born. To himself only was he of value, and to show how fictitious even this value was, being dead fie is unconscious that be has lost himself. He alone rated himself beyond diamonds and rubies. Diamonds and rubies are gone, spread out on the deck to be washed away by a bucket of sea-water, and he does not even know that the diamonds and rubies are gone. He does not lose anything, for with the loss of himself he loses the knowledge of loss. Don’t you see? And what have you<to say?” “That you are at least consistent." was all I could say, and I went on washing the dishes.

CHAPTER VII. At last, after three days of variable winds, we have caught the northeast trades. I came on deck, after a good night’s rest In spite of my poor knee, to find the Ghost foaming along, wing-and-wing, and every sail drawing except the Jibs, with a fresh breeze astern. Ten knots, twelve knots, eleven knots, varying from time to time. Is the speed we are making. And ever out of the northeast the brave wind blows, driving us on our course 250 miles between the dawns. Each day grows perceptibly warmer. In the second dog-watch the sailors come on deck, stripped, and heave buckets of water upon one another from overside. Flying fish are beginning to be seen, and during the night the watch above scrambles over the deck in pursuit of those that fall aboard. In the morning Thomas Mugrldge being duly bribed, the galley is pleasantly areek with the odor of their frying, while dolphin meat Is served fore and aft on such occasions as Johnson catches the blazing beauties from the bowsprit end. The days and nights are “all a wonder and a wild delight," and though 1 have little time from my dreary work, I steal odd moments to gaze and gaze at tbe unending glory of what I never dreamed the world possessed. 1 do not forget one night, when I should have been asleep, of lying on the forecastle head and gazing down at the -spectral ripple of foam, thrust aside by the Ghost’s forefoot. It sounded like the gurgling of a brook over mossy stones in some quiet dell, and the crooning song of it lured me away and out of myself till I was no longer Hump the cabin-boy, nor Van Weyden. the man who had dreamed away thirty-five years among books. But a voice behind me. the unmistakable voice of Wolf Larsen, strong with the Invincible certitude of the man and mellow with appreciation of the words he was quoting, aroused me.

“O the bl'ielng tropic nlpht. when the wake’s a welt of llsrht That holds the hot sky tame. And the steady forefoot snores through the planet-powdered floors Where the scared whale flukes in flame. Her plates are scarred by the sun. dear lass. And her ropes are taut with the dew. For we’re booming down on the old trail, our own trail, the out trail. We're sagging south on the Long Trail—the trail that Is always new." “Eh, Hump? How’s it strike you?” he asked, after the due pause which the words and setting demanded. I looked into his face. It was aglow with light, as the sea itself, and the eyes were flashing in the starshine. “It strikes me as remarkable, to say the least, that you should show enthusiasm," I answered coldly. “Why, man, it’B living! It’s life!" he cried. “Which Is a cheap thing and without value,” I flung his words at him. He laughed, and it was the first time I had heard honest mirth in his voice. “Ah, I cannot get you to understand, cannot drive It into yojjr head, what a thing this life is. Of course life is valueless, except to itself. And I can tell you that my life is pretty valuable just now—to myself. It is beyond price, which you will acknowledge is a terrific overrating, but which I cannot help, for it is the life that is in me that makes the rating." He left me as suddenly as he had come, springing to the deck with the weight and softness of a tiger. Sometimes I think him mad, or half mad at least, what of his strange moods and vagaries. At other times 1 take him for a great man, a genius who has never arrived. He Is certainly an individualist of the most pronounced type. Not only that, but he is very lonely. - His tremendous virility and mental strength wall him apart: Men are more like children to him, even the hunters, and as children he treats them, descending perforce to their level and playing with them as a man plays with puppies. Or else be probes them with the cruel hand of a vivisectionist, groping about in, their mental processes as though to see of what Aota-sttffr is made. ■ While on the question of vagaries. 1 shall tell what befell Thomas Mugridge in the cabin, and at the same time complete an incident upon which 1 have already touched once or twice. The twelve o’clock dinner was over,

one day. an 4 I bad Jast finished put* ting tbe cabin in order, when Wolf Larsen ind Thomas Mugrldge descended the companion stairs. Though the cook had a cubbyhole of a stateroom opening off from the cabin, to tbe cabin itself he had never dared to linger or to be seen, and he flitted to and fro. once or twice a day. like a timid specter. “So you know how to play ’Nap,”’ Wolf Larsen was saying in a pleased sort of voice. "1 might have guessed an Englishman would know. I learned it myself in English ships." Thomas Mugrldge was beside himself, a blithering imbecile, so pleased was he at chumming thus with the captain. The little airs he put on and the painful striving to assume the easy carriage of a man born to a dignified place in life would have been sickening had they not been ludicrous. He quite ignored my presence, though I credited him with being simply unable to see me. His pale, wishy-washy eyes were swimming like lazy summer seas, though what blissful visions they beheld were beyond my imagination. “Get tbe cards. Hump." Wolf Larsen ordered, as they took seats at the table. “And bring out the cigars and the whisky you’ll find In my berth.” I returned with the articles In time to hear the cockney hinting broadly that there was a mystery about him. that he might be a gentleman’s son gone wrong or something or other; also, that he was a remittance man and was paid to keep away from England —“p’yed ’ansomely to sling my ’ook an’ keep sllngln’ It.” I had brought the customary liquor glasses, but Wolf Larsen frowned, shook his head, and signaled with his hands for me to bring the tumblers. These he filled two-thirds full with undiluted whisky —"a gentleman’s drink," quoth Thomas Mugridge—and they clinked their glasses to the glorious game of “Nap," lighted cigars, and fell to shuffling and dealing the cards.

They played for money. They Increased the amounts of the bets. They drank whisky, they drank It neat, and 1 fetched more. Ido not know whether Wolf Larsen cheated or not —a thing he was thoroughly capable of doing—but he won steadily. The cook made repeated journeys to his bunk for money. Each time he performed the journey with greater swagger, but he never brought more than a few dollars at a time. He grew maudlin, familiar, could hardly see the cards or sit upright. As a preliminary to another Journey to his bunk, he hooked Wolf Larsen's buttonhole with a greasy forefinger and vacuously proclaimed and reiterated, "I got money. I got money, I tell yer, an’ I’m a gentleman’s son.” Wolf Larsen was unaffected by the drink, yet he drank glass for glass, and If anything his glasses were fuller. There was no change In him. He did not appear even amused at the other's antics. (to be continued.)

SNAIL A VALUABLE FOOD

Edible and Nutritious, Is the Verdict That Has Been Arrived At by ——Those Who Know. "All snails are edible and nutritious," says Canon Horsley in a book on British land and fresh water molluscs, just published. He goes on to say that even the common or garden snail, though insipid, is as nourishing as calf’s-foot jelly. There is A large white shelled snail called Helix pomatia that is commonly eaten by connoisseurs in the south of England, while all over France, Italy and Spain several species are used as food. In France there are many snail farms, which yield a good profit to their owners. In the French and Italian quarters of New York snails may be bought, either alive or cooked, and at most of the French restaurants they are served, “escargots farcls" being the most usual form of the dish. Snailp are easy to raise In large quantities. They need lime for making their shells, but they do not have to be fed, as they can find their own food, which is exclusively the leaves of many plants. They are most delicious when properly prepared and cooked and, as Canon Horsley says, as nourishing as calf’s-foot jelly.

Oil Wells Sunk In Bed of Ocean.

Many persons would doubt the statement that it is possible to pump oil from the earth beneath the waters of the ocean. That this is done, however, is proved. The well towers are located on rough frame piers ever the ocean and as far as a hundred feet from the surf. Tbe oil Is pumped through the waters of the sea and is carried through pipes to tbe land, where it is emptied into tanka The pump 9 are worked by means of steam engines stationed on the piers. A few yearß ago there were many more of these wells, but some have been exhausted and abandoned in recent years.—Popular Science Monthly and World’s Advance.

“Collect!”

Large quantities of furs have, it is reported, recently been received in this country from Leipzig, Germany. Owing to the exigencies of the great fur houses of Leipzig, these furs are cheaper now than before the war. They were sent, it is said, by parcel post labeled “Collect,” in this way escaping the attention of th# British postal authorities.

Its effect.

“Jaggs 'was very much affected at my talk with him on lbs evil effects of drink. 1 could see how he filled op." "Yes, that is what ha Is usually d® inn’’

Kin Hubbard Essays

“Artie Small Is Visitin’ His Wife at th’ Home o’ Her Mother."

By KIN HUBBARD. Miss Fawn Lippincut appeared before th’ Sink an’ Mop club last night, at th’ home o’ Rev. Wiley Tanger, an’ gave her new lecture, entitled, “Th’ Value o’ th’ Mother in th’ Home.” Commentin’ on th’ growin’ tendency t’ dawdle at th’ dinner table after th’ business' o’ eatin’ Is out o’ th’ way, th’ speaker said: “Next t’ th’ odor o’ a horse burning up nothin’ makes me as sick as cigarette smoke.” Gems From Miss Lippincut’s Address. Pokin’ an’ teasin’ a chicken croquette before bitin’ int’ It shows a lack o’ breedin’. If you are afraid it’s a sycamore ball leave it alone. * • • Many guests who lack th’ ability t’ enter iht’ after-dlpner repartee kill th’ time by markin’ or otherwise disfigurin’ th’ loaf sugar. • • • No matter how charmin’ a hostess may be, she secretly resents it. • * • One o’ th’ latest styles In four-flush-in’ is t’ pretend t’ be interested in th’ Income tax. * • • Peas may be carried safely t’ th’ mouth on a knife that has been in th’ sorghum. • • • Celery may be eaten at th’ climax of a funny story. • • • It’s better t’ be able t’ appreciate th’ things you can’t buy than it is t’ buy th’ things you can’t appreciate. • * • What’s become o’ th’ ole-fashioned girl who made a companion o’ her mother an’ took chances on fate send-

Destiny Versus th’ Rules o’ Success

"Ther’s Many Fer Pleasanter Routes t' Eternity Than by Way o’ th’ Road t' Success."

Elmer Jones, who traded his' farm fer stock in a Idaho gold mine, is clerkin’ in a Oklahomy hardware store and writes t’ have th’ Banner sent t’ his new address. A Becond trial has been denied Elmer Peters an’ he’ll begin his sentence th’ last o’ th’ current week. Lester Billings is still at large. Pogue Spry dropped In on his mother t’day. He Is not doin’ anything now, but has several things in view. When a feller picks up an ole home paper an’ sees what become o’ th’ boys he used t’ know it sorter convinces him that a feller is goln’ t’ be Jest what he’s goin’ t’ be in spite o’ opportunity, environment an’ ever’thing else. Elmer Jones wuz alius goin’ tv be a locomotive engineer. Jmfc 1 guess he’s hit his gait. All I kin remember about Elmer Peters is that he wuz In college most o’ th’ time. Lester Billings worked in a bank an’ had a good mother, an’ dashin’ Pogue Spry wuz a natural bora actor. In ever* city ther’s an ole boy from home. Somer have succeeded an’ some are gittin’ on, but th’ great bulk is struggling fer a foothold on th’ rung o’ existence. We all start out an drift along an’ finish accordin’ t’ program. Our destinies seem t’ be mapped out, an’ we succeed or fail regardless o’ all th’ rules o’ success. It’s amusin’ t’ read th’ recipes fer gittin' t’ th’ front that fill th’ magazines an’ papers these days. How t’ forge ahead, how t’ take th’ hurdles o’ life, how t’ tunnel thro’ ever* difficulty, how t’ reach th’ golden valley ahead. We read: “He who lays off is lost" "Do it now.” “Pleasure never yit paid a dividend." “A rollin’ stone sees lots o’ scenery but it's th’ sturdy rock that gits th’ goods,” . “Ther’s nothin' in all nature that’s count.’’ ■+£ “Say, T Will,’ an’ then go t’ ft Heed not th’ feeble voices o’ those who have tried an’ got cold feet.” “Sit down an’ wait an* be too late." “Love thy employer ”

THIS AN’ THAT

in’ her a tall, dark, romantic-lookin’ lover with a silky mustache? * * * * If we could see ourselves go by, lots o’ us would turn around an’ go back. * • * Notes. An expedition Is bein’ fitted out t* rescue Giles Craw, who traded his hardware store fer a grapefruit ranch in Floridy last fall. Artie Small is visitin’ his wife in th’ home o’ her mother. Mr. Bent Rib has returned from a business trip thro’ southern Indianny, an’ reports th’ roads in deplorable condition. Owin’ t’ th’ inclement weather an’ th* uncertainty o’ th’ administration trust policy, Mr. Rib will discontinue umbreller mendin’ until spring. Constable Newt PLum In explainin’ th’ provisions an evasions o’ th’ Income tax t’ th' Commercial club last night, Bald: “Money loaned t’ friends may be regarded as noncollectable an’ deduct' ed from your income as unavoidable overbangin’ expenses. Th’ feller without any visible means o’ support will have his taxes deducted at th’ source just th’ same as th’ feller who looks like a million dollars. When a farmer an’ his wife live t’gether they shall be allowed jointly a total exemption o’ $4,000 o’ th’»egg money an’ SSOO additional fer each son unless they’re in . th’ reg’lar army.” Miss Mazle Bud has decided t’ retain her position in th’ Palace Bazaar till May, when she’ll buy a paradise feather. Uncle Bob McGee died at th’ poor farm Friday after inventin’ his fifth can opener.

“Th’ feller who don’t take a vacation laughs last.’’ “It’s th’ feller who’s alius in that gits th’ opportunities.” “Do it yourself an’ git th’ pelf.” “Ever’thing comes t’ him who works.” “There’s never any quarrel over th’ will o’ th’ feller who mixed pleasure with business.” “Ther’s no gold links along th’ road t’ success." “Our best dancers are numbered among th’ failures o’ life.” “Th’ only time a loafer is in it is when they take th’ census.” “Work with a will.” “Keep everlastin’ly at a thing till success crowns your efforts.” An’ then what? Weak from moneyglttin’, brutalized by crushin’ th’ little feller, round-shouldered by competition, pinched an’ wan thro’ loss o’ sleep, bald thro* worry, wasted thro’ lack o’ nourishment, sour thro’ lack o’ pleasant companionship, nervous thro’ fear o’ a declinin’ market you lay on a white cot in a sanitarium an' nibble a sody cracker an’ chuckle feebly o’er th’ failures o’ others," while a quartet o’ smilin' specialists meet outside your door an’ give you up. Ther’s many fer pleasanter routest’ eternity than by the way o’ th' road t’ success. (Protected by Adams Newspaper Service, >

An Authority.

"Know anything about shooting stars?” asked the first traveler. “I should say so!” answered the second traveler, who was chiefly conspicuous for his large diamond stickpin. “I managed one in vaudeville for seven years. When that little woman took her rifle and played ‘The StarSpangled Banner’ on a musical target it never failed to bring down the house.”

His Deduction.

your study of that ancient Egyptian Inscription?” asked the professor of archeology.” “Why,” replied the superficial student. “I decided that the old Egyptians had their comie artists, the same as we have.” ri • * '