Greencastle Star Press, Greencastle, Putnam County, 23 June 1894 — Page 2

Ladies will find the Handsomest Stock of SPRING GOODS

I If C"'

P w

A QUEER RACE.

TV*- '

* STOfty OF A STRANGS;* PEOPLE.

In the citj';»t ^ Jtostoii ^fliHinrrv

w

One Door East of Postoflice. ANNA BANNIN3. Proj., MRS. STRATTON. Trimmer.

1

. ♦ V.

The County Fair affords an excellent opportunity for the pick-pocket to get your watch. If you would be proof against his skill, be sure that the bow or ring) is a

This wonderful bow is now fitted to the Jas. Boss Filled Watch Cases, which are made of two plates of gold soldered to a plate of composition metal. Look equally as well as solid gold eases, and cost about half as much. Guaranteed to wear 20 years. Always look for this trade maik. None genuine without it. Sold only through watch dealers. Ask any jeweler for pamphlet or send j to the manufacturers. KeystoneWatch Case Co philadf.lphia.

6 PER GENT.

No. 22 Mil Jacisoo Sired, GREENCASTLE, IND.

lias Flu aid Flail I will attend to all orders for gas fitting and plumbing promptly, All work tliorotxghl} 7 tested and Warranted to Give Satisfaction And prices very low. Give me a cali. FRED. WEIK.

W. it. OVERSTREET 0. F. OVERSTREET OVERSTREET & OVERSTREET IDEJINTTISTS. Spoffinl att*nlion given to preiorvinK the ‘attnrul tenth- Office in Williamson lilock. Opposite First National Bank. Heal Estate for Sale. Noticeis hereby Riven that the undersigned, as administratrix of the estate of Charles E. A'eber, deceased, by order of the Putnam Circuit Court, will offer for sale on and after SATURDAY, THE TWENTY-THIRD DAY OF JUNE, 1894, «\t the office of Geo. Hathaway, No. 22 South Jackson street, Oreencastle. Inri., am) until Bold, at private sale, for not less than its apvalue, to the highest anfi best bidder, the following real estate in Putnam county, Indiana: Lot number five (* and west half of lot number four in inborn'* Huh<1ivision of iota, three j3> and four Hi of the School Comaii»f i^ners^ Survey and plat of section sixteen (16 , township fourteen 14 north, range four (.4) west, in Greencastle. terms. One third cash, one-third in nice months and one-third in twelve mouths, deferred payments to bear six per cent, interest and secured by mortgage on the premises. MnvM. 1X94. SARAH WEBER, Oeb. Hathaway, Atty. 4t7 Administratrix.

J. Birch. Atty.

Sheriff’s SaleBy virtue of a certified copy of a decree to me directed from the C'lerk of the Putnam Circuit Court, in a cause wherein Thomas Bayne is ptaintitf, and William R. Adkins, Aifce A(ikins, John A Smith, I.aura B. Hmlth, John Hlnch, Ella E. Hart and Henry W. Hart are defendants. t will exposOto public sale to the highest

bidder, on

MONDAY, THE SECOND DAY OF

JULY, 1894, *

between the hours of 1» o’ciocir a. m. and 4 o’clock p. m. of said day, at the door of the court hnuM* of Putnam county, Indiana, the rents and profits for a term not exceeding seven years of the following described real estate situated in Putnam county. State of

Indiana, to-wit:

The northeast quarter of lot number seventy (70i and the northwest quarter of lot aumber seventy-one (71 in the Oreen/astle or Eastern Enlargement, to the town now city of Greencastle, excepting a strip of ground sixty-nine‘69i feeit in width off of the east side of said northwest quarter of iidmbtn iv-rerty csr *■?!• "f «**rd **»- largement. situate in Putnam county, iu the

State of Indiana.

profits will not sell for

xulUtqgnt sum to Aat^sfy said decree, interest nd costs, ! win, af ih* same time and place

If such rent*! and pi

and costs, ! vilV im.*- »uw piav«r, expose tp public i^ale the fee simple Af said real estMe, 0r S(» durcli thereof as may be sufficient to discharge said decree, interest and costs £*id aaJe-Vjl} be made without relief from valuation or appraisement laws.

FRANCIS M. GLIDEWELL,

June 6, 1894.

Sheriff of Putnam County. 8

For sale, a beautiful home on East Seminary street; house of eight rooms, large shade trees, large lot, choice fruit of all kinds, tf H. A, Mills.

5 BY XV HI.! AM WEST A!

The chaplain never Rave the frigate’s re«'koning; but I concluded (In which opin- | ion Iloisover, with whom I afterward discussed the point, concurred) that at this time she was probably a few degrees south 1 of the equator, apd not far from the coast J of tlraztl, sailing west-sou’-west; while the | galleons, when first seen, were sailing nor’-east by north. One of them seems to have been a little in advance of the other, and Cat>tafn H irnaby’s plan was to entice th* first—nad therefore presumably the faster sall.tr—to follow him, and so separate the two ships as widely as possible before engaging. To this end he spread all the canvas he could, but slowly and clumsily, in order to give the idea that he was short-handed, and then slipped a spar over (he shift's stern as a drag to check her

speed.

The bait took, The galloons, after exchanging signals, “hoisted The Spanish flag, whereupon the leading vessel (which, as afterward appeared, was the “Santa Anna,’’ the other being the “Kuy Bias’’) gave chase. She was by no means a bad sailer, and came on so fast that Captain Barnaby soon found it expedient to haul in the spar and go ahead. But when he had got her fairly away, the course of the “Hecate” was suddenly changed. Turning on her heel, so to speak, she passed the “Santa Atina’s” bows, delivering a broadside that raked her from stem to stern: and before the Spaniards fntd time to recover from the confusion into which they were thrown by this unexpected salute, the frigate ran along and gave her a second broadside. As Captain Barnaby had given orders to lire high and lake careful aim, the two broadsides wrought great havoc among the “Santa Anna's” rigging. A topmast and several other spars were shot away, the ahrouds cut into ribbons, and altogether s<> much damage w;is dune that Jshe could by no iHjsslbiUty make a tuov« for several

hours.

Captain Barnaby next turned his attention to the “Kuy Bias,” which was gallantly hearing up to her consort’s help. The “Hecate,” having got the weather gauge, was indie prepared, and thetwtiships were •.■on at close quarters. The Spaniards stood well to their guns, and a hot fight followed, which, according to Mr. Hwa, lasted nearly an luwtr. "The scene on deck,” wrote the poor chaplain, "was past describing. The halfnaked sailors, working the guns, their bodies streaming with perspiration, their faces blackened with powder-smoke, themselves wild with excitement, cheering and yelling like fiends; the officers brandishing their swords and shouting their orders; the roar of artillery; the crash of the Spaniard’s balls as they struck our hull; and, above all, the dreadful pools of blood at my feet, and the screams of the poor stricken ones as they fell at their posts or writhed in agony on the deck, thrilled my soul with horror, and, though 1 prayed fervently for the success of our arms, I feared that God would never bless a victory gained at ao terrible a price. “But the horror of the sights on deck was surpassed on the scene iu the cockpit where, during the engagement, I si>*nt nearly all my time, helping the surgeon, and doing my utmost to solace aiul consols the poor wounded. Their sufferings were heart-rending; the sight of their mangled bodies was almost more than I could hear, and 1 had several times to turn away, or I should have swooned outright “Poor Myers, a tiny midshipman of fonrteen, a lair-haired and sweet-tempered boy, whom I greatly loved, was brought down, shot through the lungs. The surgeon shook his head. Tie is beyond my skill,’ he whispered. ‘I must leave him to you.’ The poor child looked at me with lack-lnster-ey.es; the pallor of death was on his face: and as I tried to cheer him with hopes of a speedy release from his sufferings, and a nappy hereafter, the tears streamed down my cheeks, and 1 could scarce speak for sobbing. But he seemed to be looking afar off, and gave no . heed. ‘Mother, mother.’ he moaned, 'I am coming home;’ and then he died. “I was turning to the surgeon to tell him that all was over, when we were affrighted and almost thrown off our feet by a terrific explosion, which shook the ship from stem to stern, and made her heel ovferas if she had been struck by a heavy sea. “Not knowing what had befalleh, but fearing the worst, I ran up the hatchway. The tiring had ceased, and consternation was written on every face. I had no need to ask the cause. The 'Kuy Bias' had blown up, ami parts of her, which had been projected to a prodigious height, were still falling into the water, where, amid a tangled mass of floating wreckage that darkened the surface of the sea, were struggling a few human forms, sole survivors of the catastrophe, "As humane as he was brave. Captain Burnaby ordered lioataato be lowered. His commands were promptly obeyed, and the men succeeded In rescuing about a score of Spaniards, some of whom were dreadfully hurt. They were taken into the cockpit, and our surgeon had his hands full indeed: but the tale of wounded was now complete, for the captain of the ‘Santa Anna.' appalled by the disaster which had overtaken his consort, struck his Hag at, the first summons. As all had anticipated she proved to be a rich treasure-ship, being—so ran the report on board the -Hecate’—laden with little else than gold and silver; and officers and men were sbon engaged in computing how much priztv money they were likely to receive. In anticipation they are already rich, but the amount Is a matter of conjecture; for a cruafd ha« been put over the treasure, and Captain B irnaby declares that he will not have It overhauled until we reach iMirt. « * * » « * “The ‘Santa Anna's’ damages have been made good, and a prize crew put on hoard, and ns we have two hundred Spanish prisoners (who might, were they left on the galleon, aitemi) to retake her), a hundred of them are to oe transferred to the ‘Hecate.’ Tbe.raptain, who had at first some idea of cal'ln.: at one of the West India Islands, of at Nassau, h-is finally decided to m ike straight for Kngiainl, and our course has been shaped accordingly. ####*# “Another terrible day, the eyents of which 1 can only briefly set down. “Shortly after six this morning I was roused from a sound sleep by tt^e wardroom steward. ‘Von li*! better get up, Mr. Hare,’ be sat 1 ’The ship is qu tire.’ “Alas it was only too true. “After a fight, discipline Is always more or less relaxed. The spirit-room had been inadvertently left open, and some unauthorized person, going in with a naked light, accidentally spt lire to a can of rum, which, running over the door, set everything in a lda/,a. The wood work, desiccated by the heat of the tropics, was as dry as tinder, and the ermfiamawon spread with frightful rapidity. When I reached the deck, although only a few- minutes had elapsed since the alarm was given, smoke was coming up the after-hatchway,, and the crew, under the direction of the c aptain, were doing their utmost to put ont the fire. Pumps were going, buckets were being passed from hand to htnlfl, the decks were deluged with water, and tons of it poured into the hold. “But all to little purpose; and after half an hour’s stryiuious exertion, I heard the captain give an order which showed that he despaired^.if saving the ship. It was to

lower "he boats and remove toe wounded to the ‘Santa Anna,’ under the charge of the surgeon and chaplain. “It was a dreadful task, and caused some of the poor maimed creatures most exquisite taliii. but sailors are tOcmderfully (Iflfl atvoliaudy, ||ftl the pedetfi was execut'd iisa much sh'TtgfAtftm Thau might bt supiosedfi* 1 J j" Vet* shorl as tne time '.yqss Che fire had ▼raibly gained gtWtnd, acnf wv watched its progress from the deck of the ‘Santa Anna’ with unspeakable anxiety. But not until the after part of the ship was wrapped in flames, and her destruction imminent, did the captain srive up the attempt to save her, and order the crew to t ike to the boats and come on board the ‘Santa Anna,’ which washuve-toat about a cable's length a wav. He was the last to leave the deck, and Tn minutes after he quitted it the ‘Hecate’ was one mass of flame, a burning fiery furnace, the heat of which we could feel even on the galleon's deck. 'W'e watched the lire until it burued down to the water’s edge and was extinguished by the sea. leaving nothing of the once gallant war-ship behind save a few charred fragments. Then, the wind tieing fair, orders were given to make sail, ami we went on our course, not without hope, despite the omens, of a speedy and happy termination of onr eventful cruise. “Most of the officers and men have lost all their effects in the fire; but, thanks to the thoughfulness and courage of the boy who waits on me, 1 have saved a good part of my ward robe, some writing materials, and nearly all my books. *•’»**• The captain informed me this morning that be is very welt pleased with the ’Santa Anna.’ She 1»one of the best built ships he ever saw, being constructed of a wood cafied teak, hard enough and stout enough to last a century. She is also agoodsailer, and, with favor,obi • weather ami moderate luck, we may, bethinks, reach Portsmouth iu a>mut tiltv days. I sincerely hope so, and pray God he may prove a true prophet; for I am sick of the sea, and so soon as we get home I shall resign my appointment, and seek a less exciting, if more monotonous, sphere of duty ashore. ****•• ‘A terrible discovery was made yesterday. We are short of water. “According to the purser's calculations, made the day after the burning of the Hecate,’ the supply on board the ‘Santa Anna' was amply sufficient for the voyage to England; but it now turns out that several of the casks which he thought were full are quite empty, and we have not more than enough for ten days consumption. We are already on short allowance, and Captain Barnaby has decided to make for the Bermudas. “It is very unfortunate this discovery was not made sooner, for at the best we cannot reach New Providence in less than fifteen days, and if we had bad weather or contrary winds—But I will not anticipate evil. We are in the hands of Him whom the winds and waves obey. ««***• “For two days it has blown a hurricane, and we have been driven hundreds of miles out of our course. The allowance of water is reduced to a quart a day for each man for all purposes, and as it is terribly hot, and as our diet consists chiefly of salt pork and hard biscuits, our sufferings are almost past bearing. * « » « « « “Becalmed. Allowance reduced to a

pint.

• o ft « » li “Still becalmed. To-day a deputation from the crew waited on the captain, and

requested that, in order to economize wat-

er, and. perchance, save their lives, the Spanish prisoners should he thrown overboard. This he refused to do, but he or-

dered the Spaniards’ allowance to be re-

duced to half a pint.

* » « * « • “The Spaniards, maddened by thirst, have attempted to seize the ship. A number of them, who were allowed to walk on deck, secretly released their comrades,and attacked the watch—some with cutlasses obtained 1 know not bow, others with mar-line-snikes, or whatever else came to hand. The Englishmen at Hrst driven from the deck were speedily re inforced, and then ensued a frightful struggle in the dark, the Spaniards, utterly reckless of their lives, lighting with the ferocity of despair. But in the end they were overcome, the wound.ed (and 1 fear many of the whole) thrown into the sea. and tile survivors forced below and put in irons. The captain, himself sorely hurt, had great difficulty in protecting them from the fury of his men, who, if they might have had their way, would not have left asingle Spaniard alive. * * * * * * “Still becalmed. Ob, how gladly would we give this thrice accursed treasure for a few casks of water, or even a few hours’

rain!

* * * * # * “I am sick—I fear, nay, I hope, unto

death, for I suffer so horribly from thirst that deatti would bo a happy release. Yesterday two seamen committed suicide, and

my dear friend. Captain Barnaby, has died

of his wounds and want of water, since, hurt though he was, he nobly refused to

take more than his share.

“The command nowdevolveson Lieutenant Fane. He is a flrst-rute seaman, and a man of resolute and original character, but

lie has some strange Ideas.

* * * * * • "I write this with difficulty. I am worse.

To-morrow 1 may not he able to write, and as I have no hope of ever seeing England again, I know not what will become of the

ship and her crew. 1 am about to

my diary (which contains u narrative of the principle events that have befallen us since tlie ‘Hecate’ left England)in a watertight case and commit it to the waves. It may neradventure be found afler many

days. . . .

“1 beseech any good soul Into whose hands these pages mav fall to forward tiiem to [illegible] Surrey, England, or to the Secretary of the Admiralty, London.

“KoHKIIT II AUR.

“On board the galleon >.iiilu Anna, i-eo-

ruary 7,1741.”

CHAPTER VI.—or THE SAME OPINION STILL “Poor fellow! I wonder what became of him and the others’’ But why on earth didn’t they distill fresh water from sea water?” were the flr“t thought* that occurred to me after reading the chaplain's

narrative.

And then I remembered that the events in question took place in a prc-scientitle age; that there was certainly no distilling apparatus <m hoard the “Bantu Anna,” nor, probably, any means of making one large enough to provide for the requirements of two or three hundred, possibly three or four hundred men. Again, why did not they take to their boats and try to reach laud that way In stead of waiting helplessly for a wind, with a certainty that if it did not come quickly they must all perish? But I knew not how far they were from the nearest laud, for the chaplain never indicated the position of the ship, ami seldom gave the date, or even the days of the week, so that the length of time which elapsed between the different events set forth in the manuscript was a matter ot pure conjecture. It was, moreover, quite possible that the “Santa Anna’s” boats ha;*, been smashed by the “Hecate’s” fire, and, in nuy case, they could not have held the crew and the prisoners and enough provisions ami water for a long voyage. 1 could, however, see nothing to warrant the boatswain’s belief that the gallebn had become deroljct or been cast away. Men can live a long time on a very short allowance of >vatcf: the chaplain would naturally tie one Of the first to succumb, ana when the weak ones died off there would be more water for the survivors. Besides who could say that a 'breez; had not sprung up, or a heavy shower of rain fallen, the very day after

poor Mr. Hare committed his diary to the

waves?

I found no opportunity for a few days of speaking to Bolsover again, except In the presence of uthers. But when the chance

can '

wldbfl. fn the meanwiiHe.M had carefully

re q>eri»4,'d.

m", I retfirnad him his “dokytnent,”

den, fn the m -anwhile. I hail

ien>4,‘d. . Y

WqU, sir*’” he paid, anxiously, “\vha( do

you tWRik?” . '

Believing that I could do the poor fellow no greater kindness than to cure him of his hallucination, if that were possible, I said that In my opinion there was about as much likelihood of finding the “Santa Anna” as of finding the lost Atlantis or

the philosopher’s stone.

“I don’t know much about them there,” answered Tom, who did not seem greatly impressed by the comparison; “but if you mean as to think there is no likelihood of fueling that there galleon, I should be glad to know why you think so, If yon would

kindly tell me.”

“Well, to begin with, there Is no proof either that the people on board the ‘Santa Anna’died of tliirst, as you suppose, or that she became derelict.” “Doesn’t that gentleman as wrote the dokyment say as he lay a-dying, and that the men were so punished for want of water that they ha l begun to jump over-

board?”

“Two jumped overboard, which I suppose is what tlie chaplain inoant when he •aid they had c unmitted suicide. But don’t you see that every death made a drinker the less? The weak would be the first t i go; the strongest, seeing that they would have a fair supply of water, might live for weeks—months, even.'' B >1 silver’s countenance fell; this was a vi-w of the matter that had not occurred

to him.

“And how do yon know," I went on, “that the ’Santa Auna’ did not get to England—or somewhere else—after nil? Even in the Doldrums calms don’t last for-

ever.”

"Well. I think I do know that she didn't get to England.” said Tom. quietly. “My father, he thought of that, and he went to a lawyer chap and pretended as there was somebody on board the ‘Hecate’ as lielonged to him—a great uncle by his mother's side—and that he wanted to find out what had become of him—a proof of his death—aud he got the lawyer chap to write to the Admiralty.”' “And did the lawyer chap get an an-

swer?”

“Yes, after waiting a long time, and writing live or six letters—it cost my father a matter of two or three pounds, one way and another. Well, the answer was a* the ‘Hecate’ sailed from Portsmouth on such a date in 1743, revictualed at Nassau, and touched at Jamaica; but as after that nothing more hud been heard of her, she must undoubtedly have perished with all on board. Now, doesn't it stand to reason tlgu us nothing has been heard of the ‘Hecate,’ none of the crew—and all of ’em v ent on board the ‘Santa Anna,’ you know —that none of her crew ever got to land?— because the first thing they'd naturally do would he to inform the Admiralty and claim their pay. As for the officers, they would of course report themselves, and tell how the ‘Hecate’ was lost.” “Of course; and the fact that nothing has been heard of hei; or any of her crew shows in my opinion, that the fate which the Admiralty think overtook the TI cate’ overtook the ‘Santa Anna’—she perished with all on board, perhaps in a cyclone; or she may have struck on a sunken rock or got burned. Your supposition, Bolsover, that every man-jack of her crew died of thirst, and that she is either afloat or aground with nil her treasure on board is—excuse me for saying it—all bosh: and the sooner you get the idea out of your head, the better It will be for your peace of mind.” “I am sorry to hear you say so, Mr. Erie,” answered the boatswain, with the nir of a man who, though shaken In his opinion, refuses to be convinced. “I am sorry to hear you say so. I cannot argufy like a man of ’ead and edycation, and facts is, may lie, against me. Well, I don’t care a hang for the facts; and I am us cock-sure as If I saw her this minute as the galleon is a ship yet, or leastways the hull of one, and as I shall set eyes on her afore I die, and carry off as much of that there treasure as will make me as rich as a Jew. If you won’t go shares with me, so much the worse for yon—that is all :is I can say.” Though I saw that it was useless to continue the discussion, 1 wanted to put one more question, “Did your father sny anything to the Admiralty about the chaplain’s statement ?’

1 asked.

"No, he didn’t,” answered Tom, almost savagely; "he wasn’t such a darned fool! He had too much white in his eye, my father had, to put the Admiralty on the

iii'ciose 1 rai k " r that there treasure ship: and ns it

was nigh on it bundled y.-.iis after she disappeared, it would have done no manner

of good to anybody.”

The subject then dropped, and it was not resumed until several rat her strange things had come to pass, and Bolsover was in a

more placable mood.

tain Peyton. 1 said that I doubted whether a man was in greater danger on board a good sillo than inside a good house, aud that life on the ocean wave was fur pleas-

anter than life ashore.

“I doq’t mean, uj, course, on board a wardo in ivfte*’ .idftte'l rAnemlier-

.f|>.

“Vow thltrl: so becatje-

ship Itefimepf war,** f ing th4 expedience of i

CHAPTER VII.—THE FEVER SHIP. We were now on the verge of the tropics. The weather was perfect, the wind lair, and the sea—covered with small, whitecrested waves, chasing each other in wild revelry—superb. The days were delightful: the nights, lighted up by a great round moon; gloriously serene. The mere fact of living became a pleasure; the noonday’s heat was tempered by a balmy breeze, and basking in tlie sun, and liA’lng continually in the open air (I slept on deck), health tingled to my Ungers’ ends, It was a pleasure to feel the brave ship surging through the sea, and to Watch her great sails as they bellied to the breeze. For days together no sailor had need to go aloft, and one day was so like another that time seem“d to stand still. Yet in this very monotony there was an inexplicable charm; it acted as a spiritual anodyne, banishing care, and lulling the mind to sleep. I caused to think about my future, and Liverpool and business were so remote that thep might never have been. Even Amy receded into the far distance, and it was hard to realize that I jindouce dreamed of marriage and suffered from the pangs of disappointed love. Why, I often asked myself, had 1 hot been brought up os a soldier or sailor instead of an underwriter? And 1 wondered how people could dislike Hie sea. True, there were sometimes storms, and the weather was nut always serene; tmt, alter all, storms were few aud far between, uud I felt sure that the hardships and perils of a seaman's life were grossly exaggerated. Only Juki tiefi.r - I left Liverpool, I met a man who had missed tho Atlantic half a dozen times without so much as encountering a gale of wind; and it was a notorious fact that A1 hard-wood ships, well commanded and manned, and hot too deep in the water, seldom came to grief. I one day talked in this strain to Cap-

aflflv'dg remember >or Mrillare. 1

se we hive had (uch

a pleasant voyage mfd made’such Rre«1 weather, so far,” returned the skipper, with a smile, “aud 1 am bound to say that sailing In these latitudes is pleasant. You would think diff -rently, though, if you had ever faced a stiff gale iu the North Atlantic, or tried to double Gape Horn in a snow-storm. And 1 don’t agree with you about there being no mord danger at sea than ashore. A landsman may live a long life without being once eximsed to serious peril. A Beaman can hardly make one long voyage without running serious risks. Not to speak of storms and cyclones, sunken rocks and unliglitod shores, never a night passes that does not bring the possibility of a collision. The unexpected plays afar more important part at sea than ashore: so much so, that a prosperous, pleasant voyage always makes me a hit

uneasy—”

“Like this, for instance?” “Exactly. Like this. I cannot help thinking it is too good to last, and that Fortune is preparing us some scurvy trick. Who can tell? We may be run down in the night, or have foul weather before morniug. All the same, 1 like my calling. Its very uncertainty is an attraction: a true seaman likes it none the less for its element of danger: and I don’t know that I dislike an occasional storm. There is real pleasure in commanding a stout, wellfound, well-manned ship in a galeof wind.” “I can well believe it—for a horn sailor like you. You are of an adventurous disposition, I think, Captain Peyton.” “I was once. But I am too old now to seek adventures; they must seek me.” “Well, I begin to think I should like a few adventures. My life has been desperately tame so far.” “Has not somebody said that adventures are to the adventurous? You will, may be, have a bellyful before you get back to Liverpool. Who knows?” “Ay, who knows? I hope they will be agreeable, though.” “I don’t think I could undertake to guarantee that,” said the skipper, with a laugh. “Adventures are like babies—you must take them as they come. Step into my cabin and let us have a game of chess and a glass of grog. Everything is going on smoothly, and it is the flrst officer’s

watch.”

I have already tnentioned how we amused ourselves, and that as there was always something going on we never suffered from ennui. We had excitement, too, of a very mild sort, though often rather intense while it lasted; nothing more than exchanging numbers with passing ships, and so ascertaining their names—when they came near enough, which was not always. In puint of fact, we had only exchanged numbers with four ships since we sailed; we had, however, passed n good many in the early part of our voyage, and when a vessel was sighted, it was always a matter of speculation and discussion whether she would come within signaling distance or not. The further we got, however, the rarer these meetings became, and for several days past we had not seen asin-

gle sail.

So, when, on the morning after my talk with Captain Peyton, one of the mates (a man with wonderfully good eyes), sweeping the horizon with his glass, announced that he could just see tlie topmast of some ship away to windward, there was quite a flutter of excitement. \Ve passengers had our binoculars out in a moment, though, as our eyes were not quite so keen as those of the second mate, it was some time before we could make out. in the far distance, a couple of sticks that seemed to be emerging from the water, which Bneklow (the mate), a few minutes later, declared to be the musts of a brig. \Ve went on staring our hardest, and in the end were rewarded by seeing the hull of a large ship rise slowly from “the bosom cf the deep.” “A brig under bare poles!” exclaimed Captain Peyton, who was one of the gazers. “No; she has her fore-course and fore-topmast staysail sii. But what on earth is she doin':, ami where steering?” I had been asking rnys< If the same questions, for the brl:;'.* movements were most eccentric; she wobbled about in every di•rection. us if stie could hot make up her mind toward which point of the compass She wanted to sail. “Are the people aboard of her all asleep, I wonder?” asked the captain. "Run up our number, Mr. Ctiaucc" (the third mate). “\Ve shall may be pass near enough to exchange signals.” “Halloo!’’shouted Bucklow. the sharpeyed. “There issomethiug wrong yonder.” “What is it?” asked everybody else, pointing his glass in the same direction as that of the mate. “The Union Jack upside down.” “A signal of distress! And she does not give her number," said the skipper. “.Something very wrong, I should say. Alter the ship’s course a point, Mr. Bucklow. V, e ,viil run under her boo--* mid had her.” When we were near enough, the captain took his speaking-trumpet and hailed. But there came no answer. We could see nobody on deck; there was not even a man at the wheel. “Queer!” said Captain Peyton, after be had hailed a second and thirl time. “I must go aboard and see what is up. Clear away the lee-quarter boat. Mr. Chance. Will you go with me, Mr. Erie?” turning to ir.a. “Who knows that this Is not the beginning of an adventure?” “It is an adventure,” I answered. “Thanks for the offer. I will go with you

gladly.”

So the sails were backed, the ship brought to, and the boat being low, rod, wo slipped Into her and were quickly alongside the brig. As another hail produced no effect, one of the four seamen who wore with us climbed up the fore chains and threw us a rope, up which Peyton, myself, and two of the seamen swarmed, one after the other,

band over hand.

“Anybody on board, Bill?” asked the captain, ns he put his foot on Hie deck. “Not ns far ns I can see,” said the s-m-nan who had thrown us the rope. “But there’s some very queer smells Knocking

about."

[To BF. COVTlNITl-m.] A Orand F’eatur Of Hood’s Sarsaparilla is that while It purifies the flood apd sends it coursing through the veins full of richness and health,.it also imparts new life and vigor to every funotion of the hodv. Hence the expression so often heard: “Hood's Sarsaparilla made n new person of me.” It overcomes that tired feeling so common now. Hood's Pills are purely vegetable, perfectly harmless, always reliable and beneficial.

What of the Consumer? We were prepared for almost any result of the customary hysterics of the New York Press, but we hardly fOr it to stumble upon such an ojklidemnation of protection “Jptar^lf measure which discriminatefc against one section in favor of another, and which confers immense benefits upon a single interest at the expense of a whole people is not protection, but spoliation.” There never was a tariff measure conceived that failed to do this very thing. There never will be one, as long as one section differs from another in its natural adaptation to certain industries. The industry with the strongest pull gets the biggest protection and holds it until some other interest comes along and complains that it has been injured by the protection of the other. Then another attempt is made at an equal distribution of the stolen cheese, to be followed by more complaints, with the result that the average of protection is pushed higher and higher in the effort to satisfy all. If there is such a thing as “genuine protection,” under which, as the Press avers, “all American produc ers possess equal rights and enjc equal privileges,” what of the ce sumer? His very existence is f< gotten. He is not so much mentioi ed while those who despoil him are trying to divide the booty. And when an attempt is made to ease the crushing weight of taxation which rests upon his bending shoulders and to place a little of it upon the possessors of large incomes, a cry goes up that such a measure is communism and sectionalism. There is no better answer to this folly and no better defense of the rights of the consumer than certain words of the Hon. John Sherman, which were quoted without challenge no longer than last November by the Hon. LL S. Hall, of Missouri, in a speech before tlie Ways and Means Committee of the House as follows: “The public mind is not yet prepared to apply the key of a genuine revenue reform. A few years of further experience will convince the whole body of our people that a system of national taxes which rests the whole burden of taxation on consumption, aud not one cent on pro. perty and income, is intrinsically unjust. While the expenses of the national Government are largely caused by the protection of property, it is but right to call on property to contribute to its payment. It will not do to say that each person consumes in proportion to his means. This is not true. Every one must see that the consumption of the rich does not hear tlie same relation to the consumption of the poor as the income of the rich does to the wages of the poor. As wealth accumulates, this injustice in the fundamental basis of our system will be felt and forced upon the attention of Congress.” This injustice has been felt, and the first attempt toward righting it finds arrayed in opposition all the forces of protection and privilege which have thrived upon it. It is denounced as “a line upon thrift,” a “eonfiseation of the savings of the industrious,” a something that will discourage economy. Does any one who applies these epithets to it know of anybody who would not rather have an income of $4,000 a year, with a 2 per cent, tax on it, than not to have such an

income to tax?

Virginia lias the manganese mines.

world's greatest

if-1 //- II A Y TIME-TABLE' BIG FOUR.

FAST.

tNo. 2, lud’p'lib Accommodation 8:42 a.m. ' !! 1H ’ \Y Llialtpd 1:52 p.m. * lu. Ntght Exprora 2:39 a.m.

WEST.

” No, 9, Mail s- 12 B . nl " 17. .s. W. I.imtu-t: ; ".02:49 p.m. 1 ,, 1 Hauie AixoJuodftliQn. 7:U6p. ni. , • “M' 1 ' -s 12:80 a. m.

Daily. 1 Daily except Sunday.

■No. 10 is solid vestibilled train Cincinnati with sleepers for New York via Cleveland and connects tlirou.lt to Columbus, O. No 2 connects throuKh to New York. Boston and Benton Harbor, Mich. No. 18 is solid train to Buffalo with sleeper for New York via N.

w sleeper for Washington, D.c!

O.

V. r r

viafch& O. K. R., connection for Columbus, U. No. b connects through to Wabash and Union t tty: No 9 .and 17 with diverging

union city; No 7. 9 and 17 W 1 lines at St. Louis Union Depot

F. P. HUESTI8, Agt.

ONOeoUTE

Cli tootavittt. NW AeSAXY SCHICMQffrCo.y

^

12:08 p. m.; local,

9

Ooinq N6rth-tt:20-a. m.

12:05 p. tii.

Going South--? 17 a. 1:45 p. m. 3. A

in., 2:22 p. m.; looal, MICHAEL, Agent.

Terre Hants. Peoria. Decatur.

lie, lud., FOft THE W’EST, No 21 Dolly 1-sop for ft* T on's 1. Daily 12:63 p.m., “ " “ 7, nally 12.2.-, a. •• ■■ " 5, Ex. Sufi 8:56 a. m., “ •• “ 8. Ex. Sun 6:28 p. m., “ Trains leave Tei re Haute, No. 75, Ex. Hun 7:05 a. m , “ “ 77, Ex. Bun 8:25 p.m., “ „ „ , Pott THK EAST. N .? “’ E a y 1:62 p. m., for Indianapolis. “ 8, Daily 3:35 p ru., “ “ j; «. Pftih... t 3:52 a. m., “ •• “ 12. Daily..:.. ..;’2:23 a. Hi:?- « “ 2, Ex. Sun...e 6:20 p. m., « •• “ 4, Ex. Sun 8:34 a.m., “ “ For complete Time Card, giving all trains and stations, and for full iiiTormation as to rotes, through cars, etc., address J B. DOWLING, Agent, Or J. M. Chesbrocoh, Urecnca * tle ' Iod ' Asst. Gen. Pass. Agt., 8t. Louis, Mo.