400 



RECREATION, 



We should have crossed the bay in safety, 

 probably, had it not been for that bow- 

 rope. Whether on account of its hav- 

 ing decayed, through exposure to the wea- 

 ther, or through slipping from its fasten- 

 ing, I am not sure, but in one way or the 

 other it succeeded in playing us a scurvy 

 trick. 



As we were traversing the very worst 

 part of the bay, where the wind had full 

 sweep over the lake, for a good hundred 

 miles, and the huge billow piled up with 

 a majesty grand to behold, one gigantic 

 fellow, unnoticed in the dim light struck 

 us squarely amidships. Cver we keeled, in 

 a trice, to the very water's edge. Just at 

 that critical moment there was a loud snap; 

 the bow-rope parted, Eben lost his balance 

 and pitched into the water. 



Instantly my head was in a whirl of con- 

 fusion. A thousand thoughts flashed 

 through my brain. To add to my conster- 

 nation, the bow, lightened of its burden, 

 shot up in the air, nearly capsizing the 

 boat. 



What I actually did in that moment of ex- 

 citement, I am not positive, but I have a 

 dim recollection of letting go the tiller with 

 one hand, and of quickly seizing my gun 



with the other and holding it out over the 

 water as I sped along. 



Suddenly there was a pull as of a ton 

 of lead on it, nearly wrenching my arm 

 from its socket. By good fortune Eben 

 had grasped the barrels as I passed by. 

 Letting go the tiller entirely, I clung to 

 that graceful stock with both hands. The 

 boat fell away into the trough of the sea, 

 and I finally succeeded in dragging Eben 

 in over the stern, drenched and chilled to 

 the marrow, but saved. 



I soon had him stripped of his wet gar.* 

 ments and well wrapped up in my own 

 clothing, and after a few moments of vigor- 

 ous rubbing his circulation was restored 

 and his body glowing with warmth from 

 his icy bath. We now returned to our 

 course and soon reached home, safe and 

 sound, none the worse for our adventure. 



The next time I had occasion to examine 

 the gun I found, to my surprise, the stock 

 had been beautifully inlaid with a little 

 scroll of gold on which was tastefully en- 

 graved, " Saved a human life, Nov. — , 

 18 — ." Eben maintains, to this day, that the 

 little gun saved his life, and I verily be- 

 lieve it, for he could not have endured that 

 ice-cold water 5 minutes without help. 



THE MICROBE KILLER. 



OLD SILVER TIP. 



How things one has read about, heard 

 about and talked about will at times flit 

 through one's mind! Now, I have noticed 

 that every new doctor has to discover some 

 kind of a microbe, to get his name before 

 the people. Immediately, up jumps some 

 crank, who invents a patent medicine war- 

 ranted to kill that microbe and hundreds 

 of other kinds. The only trouble is, the 

 medicine is more deadly than the microbe. 



I had a " pard " once, who was con- 

 tinually saying he knew where he could 

 find a " mine," until he made me so tired 

 I decided to go with him to find it. 



We had read, while in town, about how 

 the health inspectors were fumigating the 

 baggage of all first class passengers on the 

 steamers, who were returning, after " blow- 

 ing themselves " in Europe; how the proc- 

 ess was spoiling no end of fine laces, etc. 

 This was the topic of conversation, on our 

 way to the mine. 



On our second night out, rain threat- 

 ened, so we " built " our bed. That is, we 

 put a log under the head and another under 

 the foot; then laid poles on these and 

 spread the bedding on top. This raised the 

 bed 8 or 10 inches. Before turning in we 

 had it again about the microbes. 



Pard's dog, as usual, lay between us, 

 where he scratched fleas for our benefit. 



We had not been in bed long when I 

 heard a purring sound under the bed. 



" Scat! " said Pard. I smiled, for I knew 

 what that purring sound meant. I had 

 been there before. Throwing the blankets 

 off, I made one jump, grabbed my clothes 

 and sprang out of the tent. As I went I 

 saw a little black animal with a white 

 stripe down its back, jump on the bed. 

 The cur grabbed it an. shook it over Pard. 

 Then I heard a smothered exclamation 

 from my friend as if he had a bad taste in 

 his mouth. 



As I reached the open air, I was just in 

 time to see a form crawling out from under 

 the wall of the t-nt. It was Pard. One 

 might have thought he had just come from 

 the infernal regions, from the amount of 

 sulphur and brimstone floating around. 

 Out of the flap came the cur, head down, 

 tail between his legs, and a sort of a de- 

 jected expression on his face, as much as to 

 say. " What in did you do that for? " 



Talk about fumigating clothes to kill mi- 

 crobes! I do not believe any microbes 

 could stand that treatment! However, we 

 would gladly have stood chances on the 

 microbes. I have often seen a lot of chil- 

 dren crying for something they could not 

 get. We were just the opposite. We could 

 have that bed, but we did not want it. 



