Evening Republican, Volume 23, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 January 1920 — Page 2

Bread Cast Upon the Waters

Captain of the Good Ship Mary Smith Maneuvers to Hoki His Post, as Well as That of Mates Who Were About to Be Discharged by Victinuzed Owiger

(Copyright by th. Adama 1 By EARL DERR RIGGER*. Th. captain of the Mary Smith, encaged la a hasty search for aa extra MMaa paWf *imlhi»T beside a time-acarrad veteran in the barroom •f the Sailors’ Friend - “ft—yr* he inquired. -- —— ~ The ancient mariner seised his halfemptied class firmly “Quite.” be said decidedly. "" \T “Doing whatr asked the captain. “Hastin’,” replied the veteran, “ventin' a long an* adventurous life by land sat* sea. fir manytar porta I’ve been, an 1 many queer experiences Ave I *ad—” -Wow about another berth?” purtWMtoinDer “Not for love or money,” said the . retired seaman; ”me an' - the ocean wave has parted company ter good.” “But rd make It worth your while," toaisted the captain. • “Ton’d *ave to make it worth more than my while, wotever that la,” returned the other discouragingly; “me an' the river don’t speak as we pass The exasperated captain was tempted to remark that the other looked the part of a stranger to water, but r«uiw«mbaring the paucity of sailormen, choked down his resentment. “See here.” he said. "I'm Captain Roberts of the Mary Smith. Pre got to meet the new owner of my boat at Greenport this evening, an' we're goto* to sail at noon. Before we start, 1 Want another A. B. aboard. I’ve looked all morning”—he paused, and da Md rd that it would be unwise to mantwwi his failure to encounter a dingle available seaman -“all morning,” be repeated, “an’ you’re the most experienced sailor I’ve come across.” "Ay. ay." interposed the flattered one; “in many ports I’ve been —” “The work Is easy,” the skipper hurried on. an' you'll find me a kind master. I don’t look a hard one. do IF’ “I’d hate to say wot you look.” replied the ether. Then observing the captain’s purple face, he added hastily: “My eyesight’s very poor. Anyhow. looks don’t count. The coolest skipper I ever sailed under wore pretty red neckties. An’ as fer the easy work, that’s wot they all say. I suppose there's a red plush chair fer me to smoke my pipe in, an’ can-vas-back duck fer breakfast every here to talk nonsense." added the captain warmly. “Thea you onghter stop tryin’ to tempt old Joseph Dobbs back to the sailor’s life," the other returned, “fer that’s ths worst nonsense there is. No, sir; rm here, an’ the river’s there, an’ h«re an’ there we stay.” ' “Hike you, Dobbs," said the captain, simulating a kindness he by no means fdt “I want you aboard the Mary Smith. Ain’t there nothin’ I can say will make you consider ft?" "Nothing.” said Mr. Dobbs firmly; “an* even if I did consider it—mind you J ain't sayin’ I will—l couldn't tMnk o* goin’ among decent sailormen in these ctothes. They’re an insult to the calling. That's the sojtow o* my retired life—that I couldn’t retire in good clothes." “Don't let that worry you,” the captain assured him, “we ain't perticuhr «hQnt them things aboard the Mary Smith If anyone made fun o’ your clothes, Td brain them.” “You’re a kind skipper,” Mr. Dobbs returned, “an" it’s your kind ’eart makes you say that. But 1 wouldn’t be a disgrace to the Mary Smith, not fer worlds.” Captain Roberts looked at the clock, then across the deserted barroom through the door that opened into- a deserted street “What would you say." he asked, “if I ottered to buy you a new suit if you come aboard. And take it out o' your pay later," he added, in a tone inaudible to Mr. Dobbs. “I'd say you ain’t a skipper—you're a fairy," Mr. Dobbs said, “an' I don’t believe in fairies, so rd 'ave to say you was drunk- It ud be ’ard. but I'd 'ave to say ft.” Tm In earnest,” the captain tnMsted; “brand new togs. It ain’t evcry day such a offer is made." - “It ain’t every day you meet a sailorman like me," returned the redoubtable Dobbs, “In many for ports—" -Wm new clothes brint yon aboard the Mary Smith?” the skipper broke / In, “or won’t they? I want to know now.” - • Mr. Dobbs thought deeply. At length “They would,” he said, “if 1 had the strength to walk to the quay. But J’event. Not a bit o’ I 'ad, except two glasses o’ beer. The captain engaged in some rapid naw flMmrfSfl to & dykTlMidAF- ' rrMfed at last. ■ *

<e*«p*p«r Service, New York.) plained, by his visits to many for ports. While the skipper was paying a bill that sent the cold chills up and down his back, Mr. Dobbs suggested one more drink. “A toast to the river wot Fm goin’ back to,” he announced; “wot rm befog led back to by a angel." Mr. Dobbs’ first pay again differed in the mind of the angel as the toast was drunk. Outside the Sailors’ Friend Captain Roberts sought to lead the. steps of his efrant companion toward a second-hand clothes shop of which he know. But his companion know of it, ton. “I couldn’t think o’ wearin' dead men's clothes," he said, stopping short In Ms tracks. "I'd feel tike a ghost. An’ mebbe them clothes have germs in ’em, too.” “I know a man that found a tenpound note in some old clothes, once," the skipper said encouragingly. But Mr. Dobbs shook his head. “I never was lucky,” he complained, “all I'd find In ’em ’ud be fever, an death. 4n* if I found anything better you’d probably claim it, since you’re payin' fer the clothes." Secretly admitting the justice of this, the skipper led the fastidious Mr. Dobbs to a clothfog establishment of better grade. There theWeciplent of gentle charity developed such a nice and discriminating taste for wearing apparel that Captain Roberts was several times on the point of throwing 'over the whole deal. Mr. Dobbs was a student of human nature, however, and always agreed to a compromise at the critical moment. While . his benefactor was settling the mooted question of the bill with the shopkeeper, he retired behind a curtain to dress.

After a heated argument, during the course of which Captain Roberts expressed unfavorable views of shopkeepers In general, and several times made us&of the word robber, the account was paid, and the skipper relapsed Into a faoody period of-renewed mental arithmetic. Roused from this by a sudden and terrible thought, he rushed to the curtain, where his foolishness struck him with, merciless force. For a window was open, and Mr. Dobbs, together with clothes, both old and new, had disappeared. The captain’s first thought was to call for a policeman, but soon realizing that his case against Mr. Dobbs would scarcely hold in a court of law, he shifted his consideration to the advisability of summoning his crew. The picture of their inward mirth and secret rejoicing at his downfall was too maddening, however, and he set out, unattended, In pursuit of a solitary revenge.

A half-hour’s wandering through the village streets discouraged him. Carefully weighing pride and two pounds ten In the scales, he found the latter the heavier of the two, and accordingly dispatched a small boy to: the Mary Smith with the news that as many of the crew as could be spared were to meet him at once in the barroom of the Sailors' Friend. This pleasant rendezvous appealed to the sailormen of the schooner, and three of them promptly appeared before the skipper, wearing broad and engaging smiles which the latter’s story did nothing whatever toward dispelling. Captain Roberts’ discomfiture was not lessened by the remarks of several brother skippers who had arrived in time to hour his tale. He assumed a look of fierce authority. “We sail at noon,” he announced to his men. “and If you don’t have that villain aboard the Mary Smith a half hour before then. I’ll flay you alive fer mutiny. Remember, he’s a little man with whiskers, very homely, an’ he’s wearin’ either a old gray suit or” —he choked slightly—“some fine new clothes—blue with a faint white check. FU make it hot fer you if you don’t And him."

The men glanced hopefully toward the bar, but the skipper was looking hopelessly out of the window, so they filed out “Pon their mission. Captain Roberts eat tor some time In moody meditation, and then sought the wharf and the Mary Smith. The mate was waiting tor him by the rail. ■ ’Tv ’eard of it,” he said; “Captain Rice of the Henry Alien just came back from the Sailors’ Friend. That’s wot they’ll be callin’ you, the first thing we know —the ‘Sailors' Friend.'" “We wont talk about it," said the skipper sharply. . “That’s year modesty,” returned the mate, “an r it does you credit, too. But don’t overdo it. 'Oo’d a-thought it—our skipper a friend to the poor. Him as we’ve thought of as cruel an’ besrtlecp.” “Stow ft," remarked the captain “I wouldn’t be able to understand it.” wont oa th* Impervious mate, “if I •atal read a book once about a man eo 'ad two natures. Sometimes *• was «ra«B<r devfi. M»fo > was gentle as a tomb. It's a sham we’ve OB*y one 777' । taiiu*’ • “Youll sfoi more o’that than youU I relfifo ** rnsred the trat* I IOIOWs Muu mate sutMinnßijr » “R’a wot tlfo book ©alls a reaction.

THS EVENING BEPUBUCAN, BENSSEI.AEB. IND.

It ’as to come after the kind spoll“Soe here.” broke in the captain. ’Tve been a foot I know It. Now wot's the use o’ discussin’ it!” “Oh, no!" objected the mate; "I wouldn’t call It foolishness. Not even if I was ’avin’ a reaction, I wouldn’t. Bread upon the waters, more likely.” “Not only bread," sighed the skipper, “but roast beef, an’ potatoes, an’ ale, an'—an* clothes.” "Bread wot'll come back cake,” added the mate. "If it comes back just plain bread I’ll be happy,” murmured the master of the Mary Smith. , “Wot was the cause o' your passion for this sailor?" ths mate demanded; “wot led you astray into kindness?" The captain launched into eiplana“Wilson told me, just after he sold the Mary Smith to this man Simpkins," he said, “that the new owner was a nice fellow, but awful economical. I didn’t want to meet him at Greenport tonight with a crew short one man. He’d say if we could make this trip that way we could make 'em all An’ this Dobbs wan .the only excuse for a sailor I could find in town.”

"Even then," said the mate, “It was terrible reckless. I wouldn’t a-done JL I’d ’ave advised against it. I wish vise you." The captain’s manner, which had been one of deep dejection, underwent a sudden change. He smiled genially, and slapped the mate on the back. “No, you wouldn’t a-done it," he sneered; “an* it’s just as well you wouldn't. You’d have come out the loser. It taken—well, it takes a bit o’ cleverness to .pull these things through. Fortune favors the brave an* daring, an’ everything they try comes out all right In the end." The mate followed the direction of his superior's glance, and discovered three sailormen bundling a very unwilling gentleman into the waterman’s skiff. 'That was all put on—my sadness,” explained the skipper; “of course I knew all the time I was coming out on top." He walked the deck In the excess of his joy. The skiff soon covered the distance between the pier and the schooner, and an undignified and kicking captive came on board, assisted by strong arms and willing hearts. He was small and bearded, with a churchly expression partially destroyed by the combined effect of a torn collar, dusty clothes, and a face purple with rage. When Captain Roberts got a good look at the new-comer, his hope sank and his anger rose. “Who is this man?” he demanded of the crew. One of the men stepped forward, the'pride of the capture shining in his face. "Why 'e’s the feller wot stole your clothes and witties, to be sure," he said, “an’ a mighty 'ard customer ’e is. We —” “Shut up, you Idiot," roared the skipper; “this ain’t the man. I don’t know who he is. I never saw him before." The crew stood dumbfounded.

“Well, it ain’t our fault,” said the spokesman at last; “he fits the description you give us like it was made fer 'lm. A small man, wearin’ whiskers, ’oo's very 'omely indeed, an’ ’as a blue suit, nearly new." The other men shook their heads, whereupon the unwilling guest found his breath sufficiently to speak in gurgling puffs. ’Tve seen a few outrages In my time.” he managed to say, “but this heads the list. An’ I’ve seen people suffer, but if their suffering wasn’t pleasure compared to what you’re going through. I'll —” “Calm ymirself, sir," put in the captain soothingly. “I’m sure It’s as great a disappointment to me that you ain’t the right thief, as it is to you. I apologize most humbly.” “The right thief,” roared the captive; “you infernal scoundrel! Til— ’’ “It’s a mistake, that’s all,” the per broke in; “you’ve been mistook by these lads tor a ho —for a fine-look-in’ man in a blue suit that’s stole from me. You ain’t the man. I acknowledge it here an’ now. Nobody could be fairer than that." “You’ll suffer—” began the injured man. ■ -■

"I have suffered,” Captain Roberts interrupted, “more than words can say. When I saw you dragged aboard —” “I will waste no more words,” said the stranger; “give me your name an' the name of this vessel.” “Captain Roberta of the Mary Smith,’’ said that gentleman, promptly. The captain staggered weakly to the rail, and grasped it for support. “I suppose I d noticed it,” he murmured. “if I hadn’t been so mad. Dragged aboard my Own ship by a gang of ruffians and cutthroats m»cqiitrading as its crew. Hauled over the rail, used as a mop. tor its deck—” “Mr. Simpkins!” cried the horrified skipper. “Elijah Simpkins of London,” continued the enraged owner, “come on from Greenport in time to learn the awful truth. Maybe I have discovered ft at a man tart, after all. What’a * few ruined clothes and broken bones compared to finding out your boat to a new crew there «o qulek UH make your heads swim. You aU go, from captain to cabin boy. Fm ctovtaced them's not an onto •* gooi * one of yga- totoand get

traveling with me tor her—her health. Wall want your cabin, captain.” “Pleased, I'm sure,” lied the urn happy skinner Amid an awed silence, the mighty Simpkins lowered himself into the waterman's skiff, casting many black tootatehtad. After his departure the crew continued to stand with open mouths, the mate smoked aggreesive ly. and the captain announced that something nmrt be dona \ •That's easy M say,” the mate sneered. x TXnd hard to do,” assented the gloomy skipper. It was late in the afternoon when Mr. Simpkins returned, accompanied by a mass!ve lady who taxed the waterman's skiff to the llpit, and the difficulty of whoae-elevation to the deck of the Mary Smith* inspired in a passing riverman the suggestion of a derrick. An unexpectedly meek and humble Mr. Simpkins followed her. weighed down beneath a mountain of luggage. — “Elijah,” said Mrs. Simpkins, well aboard, “the deck is very dirty.” "It shall be washed, my dear.” Mr. Simpkins assurto iiW. wftlrAh tffi®sf r ' tain glance toward the skipper. "It needs a coat of paint, too,” continued the critical Mrs. Simpkins J , “be sure and see to It the moment we reach Greenport.’’ “Without delay, my love,” assented her lord and master. “I believe the boat smells,” went oh Mrs. Simpkins, sniffing. “Perhaps It does,” said the owner, “but It shall be thoroughly overhauled the instant. the .new crew takes charge.” He glanced meaningly at the skipper and the mate, hotering in the background. • ' “Are-these the ruffians who assaulted you?” inquired the massive lady. “Two of them," murmured the assaulted one. » Mrs. Simpktas gave a fat but withering sneer. “Brutes!" she snapped. The humbled skipper came forward to put the cabin at the disposal of Mr. and Mrs. Simpkins. The mate and he, he explained, had arranged to bunk forward. “Anything I can do— ’’ he began. --—7— But Mrs. Simpkins pushed her husband down the companion-way, and after a silence-compelling look in the skipper’s direction, followed. Late that evening the skipper and the mate sat smoking by the rail, while Mr. Simpkins walked excitedly up and down the deck. “This is my boat,” he announced/ “and I’m going to be master here. I’m running things. Tomorrow you all go. I wouldn’t have you aboard for millions. I’ll run things to suit myself. I’ll—" “Elijah," came a voice from the com-panion-Way. “Yes, my dear,” said Mr. Simpkins. “It's time you were in bed,” continued the voice. “Yes, Maria," agreed Mr. Simpkins, and disappeared below. “Something must be done," announced the skipper tententiously. ' “So you’ve said a hundred times," remarked the mate. “This is too good a berth to lose,” went on the captain; “we’d all suffer by giving it up.” “So we would," assented the mate. They smoked in silence tor a time, then the captain broke into uncontrolled laughter. “I’ve thought of a Joke,” he said. “I want the cook to hear it. He likes a good joke. Go an’ call him, George.”

The mate obeyed, presently returning with the astonished cook. “You know a good many young for dies In Greenport, cook,” said the skipper. “A few," replied the cook modestly. “A lot,” said the captain, "and nice ones, too, I hear. I Just thought of a good Joke, as I was telling the mate. Of course it never could happen, ah’ I can’t imagine how it occurred to me. It’s a mystery—a mystery, but a good joke. You know Simpkins is a pillar of a church an’ you know the sort of wife he’s got I was thinkin’—it’s too tunny for words —how amusin’ it would be If tomorrow mornin’ at Greenport a young lady come aboard —one o* the young ladies you know, tor instance, cook —-an* found that Simpkins was a old flame o’ hers. Wild to see him again, and all that, you know. We all like Simpy pretty well, even if he is goin' to kick us out. an’ if his wife wasn’t round we’d do all in our power to quiet the girl an’ keep it from causin' Mrs. Simpkins pain.” “We certainly would " said the mate, smiling. ■ . “Of course it’s Just a joke I thought of,” the captain continued; “it would never happen.” “Impossible,” agreed the mate. The cook shifted uneasily. “You’ve a good berth here, cook." said the skipper; “we’ve all good bertha.” • - s . ■ “Yea, sir," said the dased cook. fe “An’ tomorrow -wh go—every one,” continued the captain. A smile began its slow way across the cook’s face. “Mebbe,” he said. “Wen, who can teU?” assented the skipper—“who can predict the future? That’s all, cook; J thought it was a good Joke, an’ I thought o’ you. Yon like good jokes.” •Yes, sir," Bald the cook; “thank you. sir.” “Don't mention it,” replied the skipper. graciously. “I think we’U all get to Greenport about live in the nudged the mate, and the foate nudged the captain, to unison knocked their nine* iminKt the rail, and arm in am marched to ♦hair aaforeed feyeka forward.

The skipper awakened to the pleasant bw» that the cook had disappeared. *?Went ashore early," was the refrain of the sleepy sailor mu at the wheel. “Well, never mind, probably he’ll come hack,” returned the skipper, with unexpected cheerfulness; "an’ now we better all help with the breakfast" Mr. Simpkins appeared for this meal tn no happy mood. He complained of the night noises on the river, and threatened awful things to anyone who disturbed his wife’s early morning aieep. The captain’s delicate suggestion that he enjoy to the utmost the brief respite from that lady’s endearing care, he received with the scorn it deserved. Soon after the morning meal the captain’s anxious eyes discovered a lady, rather decidedly dressed, conversing with the waterman and pointing toward the Mary Smith. When she entered the skiff he called Mr. Simpkins to the rail "Rather pretty girl, that," he said with secret malevolence. “I never pay any, attention to such: things," returned the other sourly. The captain leaned closer, and nodded toward the companion-way. "Not even when she’s asleep?” he asked. “You can never be sure,” said Simpkins sadly. Then recollecting himself, he added: “How dare you talk to me like that?” “I believe the girl’s coming here,” ventured the skipper. “One of your friends, probably," suggested Mr. Simpkins; “wants to say how sorry she is you’ve lost your ship.” -''‘'i 1/ “Never saw her before,” paid the J captain, “an’ as for bein’ one o’ my friends, it’s impossible. She’d be just as likely to be a friend o’ yours.”

The waterman made quick time with his fair cargo, and as he came up alongside the Mary Smith the mate appeared and gallantly helped the young ' lady aboard. She made straight for the spot where the captain and Mr. Simpkins stood. The former was inwardly rejoicing at thought of the fall awaiting his foe, irhen he noticed, to his dismay, that the girl was headed in his direction. He attempted a deft side-step, but she caught his hands in hers and smiled sweetly, into his eyes. “How sweet to see you once more," said the cook’s poorly coached friend. In dulcet tones; “they said you had left me forever; but I knew better. Seein’ you brings back all the good times we had together.” “The girl’s crazy,” muttered the unprepared captain. “Very likely,” sneered Mr. Sftnpklns; “that’s your proper line, all right. And you a married man, too. I don’t remember encountering such depravity before. How. lucky I found you out in time.” ' “Where have you been all these weeks?” Inquired the girl; “I almost cried my eyes out waitin’ for you.” The captain endeavored, by wink and gesture,-• to acquaint the young lady of her' mistake, but his efforts were in vain. "The shows you took me to,’’ murmured the fair one; “and the pretty locket gave me on my birthday. Remember?” “Never saw you before," declared the skipper.

. "Liar,” growled Mr. Simpkins. The captain launched a suddenly •conceived plan. "Well, I don’t know as I’ll deny it any longer,” he said. "I did know you, an’ I thought a heap of you. An’ I was good to you. Captain Roberts is not a man to skimp money on the girl he likes.” He paused a moment for the fact of his identity to soak in, and after a study of the girl’s quickly changing face, he gave an almost imperceptible nod toward Mr. Simpkins. For the first time the girl looked fairly at that gentleman, and then gave a little scream and would have fallen had not the captain, inwardly applauding her acting, caught her in his arms. “What’s the matter?” he inquired. "Fancy seeing .him here,” said the girl, “after all these years. I was so pleased' to see you, I hadn’t noticed him before. You won’t mind there bein’ another, captain—one who came before I met your *22 27 2; “Not at all,” said the skipper heartily, "especially if it’s this gentleman.” “It Is,” said the fair one smiling wanly: “it was a few years ago. Wo met—and loved. Oh, Simpkins! Simpkins!’’ “The girl’s crazy!” cried the dismayed Mr. Simpkins. “Of course,” put In the skipper; “that’s your line. You married, too; an’ to such a nice lady. I’m surprised an’ shocked.” “He kept putting off the wedding day,” muttered the girt. “Naturally," said the captain. ‘What do you mean by that?” asked the irate Simpkins. “Why—didn't you keep putting ft. • off?” inquired the captain. “Oh, come on, Simpy, an' confess, like I did. We've all been a little careless at one time or another. An’ we’ll think the better of you. I’m sure, if you admit it like a man.” “Bee hare,” said Mr. Simpkins, “this is all a lie. I never saw the girl bef<*£” U,” the aggrieved skipper, II wn Ul.lll.CU lw <•’' 2 »

don't want you to impression that rm admitting thia thing,” ho stammered,- 'Jut— well am tho whole, X think it would be beet if my wife were not to bo troubled with tho story." “FU see what I can doT said the skipper; “Nellie likes me, don’t yon, my dear?” ' Of course,” said Nellie, sweetly. “An’ you’d hate to seo me lose my shlpr “Oh, there’s no danger of that, in there?” cried the girt. “Well, I don't know." said tho skipper; .“there wan some talk of It at one time." Ho and tho girl watted forward together tn conference.'" “You overdid it a little, especially at first,” he remarked. “It was Henry’s fault,” she answered; “he told me the best-looking man, and of coprse I thought it was you.” The captain smothered a remark about the cook under a smile for his fair flatterer. “Fd never adone it,” said the girl, “only me and Henry are engaged, and I couldn’t see him lose his berth." “You’re a good actress, an’ you'll make cook a fine wife,” remarked the skipper, himself wondering where the connection was. “I wish you much happiness." i i He returned to the excited Mr. Simpkins. L < ’ “Good news, Slmpy," he said; “she’s willing to let bygones be bygones. Though I must say you treated her shameful. Let this be a lesson to you.” » “See here,” said the regally purple Mr. Simpkins, “I’m not admitting that this is true. It’s only a story—” The captain winked knowingly, and pointed to the departing girt, who was waving Mr. Simpkins a touching farewell. As the waterman’s skiff drew away from the Mary Smith’, the large and aggressive person of Mrs. Simpkins appeared above deck. “Elijah, who is that woman?" she inquired shrilly. Elijah could only mutter, but the skipper stepped bravely forward. “A young friend of mine,” he said, “whose been payin’ me a little visit.” “My love,” remarked Mrs. Simpkins. “I like these men less and less the more I see of them. I’m extremely glad we are to be rid of them at once.” " .. -

Mr. Simpkins cleared his throat He feit all eyes upon him. “There has been a slight change, Maria," he said; “I have decided to give the whole crew another trial.' “Nonsense," said the lady, sharply; “they’re villains, everyone. Get rid of them at once.” "Maria,” returned Mr. Simpkins, making the stand of his life, “this is my ship. We are not at home now. Here I to run things to suit myself.” A muffled cheer from the crew, hidden variously about the deck, disconcerted him. “Fve promised them another chance,” he finished; “an’ another chance they’re going to get.” “You’re a fool, Elijah,” snarled Mrs. Simpkins. “Yes, maybe I am," agreed her husband meekly. “I’m going back to London by rail this minute,” she continued, “and so are you. Come below and help me pack.” As Mr. Simpkins hastened to obey, the captain handed him a small slip of paper. i; “What’s this?” the Mary Smith owner asked. "It’s a little matter,” said the skipper; “but it might as well be settled now as later. Just a small bill of two pound ten for food, and clothing used by a fellow that didn’t ship.”

CUTTLEFISH FULL OF TRICKS

Denizen of the Deep That Has Distinct Commercial Value—ls, j . Adept at Camouflage. Under the skin of the back of the cuttlefish, or the squid, as this relative of the devilfish Is also known, is a bone (its substitute for a skeleton), which affords to caged birds a suitable substance to sharpen their beaks upon. Oddly enough, no American species of squid furnishes a satisfactory cuttlebone? These bones come from China or from the Mediterranean. Cuttlebone ground to powder Js an Important ingredient of dentifrices. The “Ink” thrown out by the animal to cloud the water when trying to escape furnishes the “sepia” of commerce, being dried and pressed into cakes, it enters also into the composition of “India ink.” . The cuttlefish has a beak of it* mackS bitogTtrJ annular piece out of the nehk of each fish and killing at every snap by severfully greedy creatures and will devour ■ their own kiuu wiui avuiiy. , The mackerel when grown, faka _ 11. -- j.rtnj-rnw animato ♦‘Ho dwell In the sea feed largely upow 1 chang-