14 jfioiiii, ihe Tii 1 BY CROMWELL GALPIN. '"THE first day of Timothy Farn -1 ham at the Los Angelesi high school was distinctly uncomfortable, nnd the other days of the week were no less unpleasant to the boy. Tim othy's father and his family had re cently arrived "from the east," which in southern California means from •some portion of the United States ■east, of Denver; in Timothy's case it referred to southern Kansas, where the waters of the shallow ■streams grow warm early in the summer and stay warm till late in the fall. Timothy found the western boys of his own age no more than his equals in school work, and hoped to gain standing and to make friends a.mong them as he had done among schoolmates in the "east." In the middle of the morning ses sion of the first day Timothy saw tni iiis desk an envelope addressed to Mm. He opened it and drew forth the enclosure. Something flew out as the folded cardboard unclosed, and Timothy struck at it, uttering a shriek worthy of the most nervous girl in the room. Then he discovered it was a "kiss ing-bug;" that is to say, a hairpin and a piece of rubber so twisted to gether as to unwind with a buzz when taken from the envelope. Tim othy had been startled even more than the maker of the kissing-bng liad hoped, anil there was smothered laughter among the boys and gig gling among the girls. As the teacher in charge turned toward Timothy, William Peters rose. "I put a kissing-bug on Mr. Farn ham's seat," he said. "I thought he would open the envelope before the class was called to order, and really, I didn't know that Timothy was so timid." And the force of the teacher's reproof was lessened by the .smile lie could not hide. If the matter had ended there it would have, been forgotten very soon. But at noon Will, who was a leader of the boys inclined to ath letic sports, declined to allow 'llm othy a place in the line-up for a practice football game, and Timothy made such remarks as wit and ill nature suggested, the result being that two boys who might have been good friends were in a fair way to become bitter enemies. To Timothy even this seemed less to be regretted than the fact that the other boys of the class were inclined to follow Will's lead. Three of his friends, Alf Johnson and .Toe and George Brown, were especially ingenious and persistent in inventing alliterative variations of "Timothy, the Timid" aud "Tim orous Titnmy," which the other boys took up and repeated till it seemed that Timothy's name was never men tioned without an adjective implying ■cowardice. As the days passed, even the little fellows in the classes be low joined in the sport, greatly to Timothy's discomfort. Thinking over the matter, he sensibly con cluded to do nothing until some thing seemed certainly the right thing to do; and he made no answer to galling remarks. Schoolboys as a rule soon tire of any game steadily pursued, and Tim othy's plan of non-resistance would In time have secured immunity from persecution at worst only half ill natured. Hut his patience was not put to test. On Saturday Will and his three friends rode down to the beach on their bicycles, reaching the seashore at eight o'clock in the morning. Tim othy also decided togo swimming. So, taking the electric car for Santa Monica, he entered the bath house from the shore side as the clock struck ten. lie undressed, thinned a bathing suit and went out on the t>oaeh. Many people set on the benches, anil more on the sand, but there were no bathers in the water. The sea was like a Mist mirror. Five or six hundred feet from the land the shin ing water rose slowly, green anil graceful, as a heavy ground swell wwept shoreward. Half way in flecks of white foam appearetl tin the crest «>f the little mountain of water; all the top grew white as the wave be •canic perpendicular; then the mass toppled upon the Kind with a tre mendous slap that wnke the echoes In the bluffs till uII other oiiml was rirownrd in the roar of surf as the wave broke on the beach. With both the nights ami the MMtimls Timothy was familiar, hav ing spent a month along the sen be fore school began. Tumbling walls uf wuter six feet high more than tempt the Imther to stay ashore. A tpiurit-r of a mile from the beach, well outside the breaker* and little HlVeclctl by the swell, was a small tMMI Willi a big sail, carrying four l»*oplc in bathing drt >. evidently |f|flt, as they were Imreheatletl Tiiieiltiv walele'l Ihe in, wouderiu. I'lly why they had hauled Ihe sheet MlMMird while sailing tleatl tit-fore the wind la In- looked. Ilka Im jtut the Utter down ami the little <ev»ii rouuded up u> y i t U > Iwd over as <lie breeze caught the sail, still hauled close. "What do you suppose he thinks he's trying to do?" laughed a man, sitting near Timothy. Slowly the boat straightened up as the man at the helm again put her before Ihe wind. Still he kept her close-hauled, and shifting his helm again, he jibed her over. As be fore, the sheet was held fast; but this time a puff of wind caught the sail and the boat turned over. The four persons who had been aboard made a good deal of splashing as they found places by which to hold 011 to the overturned craft. The crowd looking 011 laughed, and ex changed good-naturedly contemptu ous remarks concerning the skill of the boatmen as they waited for the crew to right the craft and take to the oars to work her out to sea, for the wind was driving her toward the breakers. But the men made no attempt to right the boat. Clinging to tlie al most submerged sides, they seemed to be waiting to drift ashore. "if they let her get into that surf," said the man sitting near Tim othy, "that boat'll goto pieces like an egg shell in an orc-cruslier." One of the men clinging to the boat waved his hand to the people oil the shore, and Timothy stood up. "That's a pretty stiff surf," he said, "but I guess I'd better go out and tell them to keep off till the tide turns and the surf goes down." Timothy was a swimmer, and in ured to surf work by his month at the shore. Although he had never battled with waves so heavy as those before him, lie felt little doubt of his ability to make his way through them. He walked slowly seaward, follow ing a receding wave and meeting an other coming, and dived into green ish-brown water seeming as steep and as high as the wall of a house, lie had taken a good breath . and needed il all before he had another opportunity to breathe; but he caught the undertow and felt him self scraped against the sandy bot tom as he was swept seaward. lie came to the surface a few seconds later '!0 yards from shore, and in the middle of the trough between two waves; thus he had time to empty his lung's and to fill tliem again be fore the next roller was upon him. He dived again, and again the un dertow swept him from the shore, : and again lie rose in the trough of the sea, well in advance of the on coming wave, lie shook the water from his eyes, and then straightened out to take as deep a breath as he could force into his lungs. The wave ; before him was a "double-header," ■ and even a stronger swimmer than Timothy might admit that he was afraid without exposing liis courage to suspicion. A double-header is only half as high as the wave series of which it is an I irregular member, but its menace to 1 the swimmer is much more. Between 1 two ordinary waves is a trough of i flat water, allowing the swimmer a I chance to breathe; between the halves of a double-header there is also a trough, but it is tilled with j lather and foam mueli too thick for ; breathing, yet too thin to support the swimmer, lie must either take a deep breath and hold it —if he can —lying still till the wave passes over ! him, or he must take a breath equal -1 ly deep, dive and swim—if he can— under water till the increasing l light tells him he has passed under the stretch of sea which is boiling and frothing like a horrible great caldron. I Timothy preferred to dive. As he went down he had some fear that he might never come up again, together with a feeling of thankful | ness for the two seconds of grace that had allowed him togo down with his lungs well-filled with air. The distance under a double-lieitder ; is four times that under other waves running at the same time, and the 1 undertow offers no aid to the swim mer, for instead of a current run ning strongly seaward, it is a mere I tangle of swirling water running no f where. Timothy dived deep, striking I out strongly but carefully, and open ing his eyes. I'nder an ordinary wave the light j is blue-green; under a double-header there is 110 light, for water lashed j into foam is opaque as a plank ecil ! ing. Salt water hurt Timothy's eyes, j and he kept them open only long [ enough 1o make sure that he was in i the dark. The pres.-ure on his lungs became intolerable, and he let out some of the air in them, immediately wishing ; lie had tried to save it a few seconds longer, lie opened his yes, saw no i sign of light in the bhick mass above him, and truck out again, fear clutching at his heart as he felt how ineffective had been his stroke, and reali/.cd that repetition of even such weak effort was hcvoml his power until lie might breathe again. Then he felt himself trying to laugh at the remarks those fellows in the boat would make about him when they gut ashore, anil he wondered half stupidly if this was the begin ning of the delirium that comes to the swimmer who litis made his light mid lost. A sort of frenzy seized him, and he struggled wildly In reach the Mir f*tce. Ol»I.V for a second. "You haven't got me yet!" Savagely tie tilt lit the words seemed to form them-elves and to tiiid some strange • cIImmI of 111(11.nil' II hi\ Willi', it move MM nt. MiraitEf* lights flushing Im fore hi* eyes, a great roaring fl 11- it/ his ear un iiuiiu m- ill able weight >o| pre II.:- hi chest Howt> <1 slowly to the surface, u i.' it > MM .i, 4mm * t * Im hii 'i I.V km W WlntUifll lit lie I'lutl when It* I It the lilt hint* lin 111 face. Ilia (MB| »l id . ii,plied then, elte,, I.lit| tt« i 4U4 t<> r <ju Lit bu it lu 4j ««r CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, DECEMBER u, 1902 breath as a mountain of ti#lid green water advanced toward liirn from the ocean. But the sometimes relentless sea is sometimes strangely merciful. The big green wave lifted the ex hausted boy tenderly, passed under him, breaking just beyond, and swept roaring to the shore. Three good breaths restored Tim- ! othy's senses and revived bis cour age; lie had not been near enough to drowning to lose his strength. There were still more waves to be passed before the boy was beyond the surf. But there were no more double-headers, and some of the waves did not break till they neared the shore. Timothy swam on, soon finding himself beyond the rollers and among vast waves that rose and fell, but did not break. Then he heard a cry: "Help! | Help!" It was a strident voice, but weak, as of one too frightened to fill his lungs for a good, honest shout. j As Timothy raised himself in the; water and turned his eyes in the di- j reetion whence the sound seemed to come, he saw the boat lie had watched from the shore, and recog nized in the persons clinging to her sides Will l'eters and the three boys who bad so persistently nicknamed him Timorous Timmy. The boat was right side up, but full of water; the mast, stepped through the bow thwart and without stays, had been unshipped, and with the sail was dragging astern. The wind was light, but the boat was driving slowly shoreward, and the boys clinging to her were not mak ing the slightest effort to keep her off, although they could not but know that if they attempted to reach shore through the heavy surf the destruction of the boat was cer tain and their death by drowning inevitable. "Hallo!" shouted Timothy. "Keep her off! Keep her off till the surf goes down!" As In- called, a vagrant wave broke to seaward of the prevailing surf line. Timothy dived, rising close to the overturned boat and seeing three boys wildly clutching for more se cure bold on the wreckage. Within arm's length of the boat, but having altogether lost, his hold, Will Peters was thrashing about, arms and legs out of the water half the time and head under all the time. He was not a swimmer. Timothy with his left, hand reached for the gunwale of the boat, and with bis right seized Will, who put both arms around Timothy's neck, almost instantly to release his hold and at tempt to climb into the boat, which promptly turned bottom upward. "Hold on!" shouted Timothy. "You can't keep your feet dry here. Hang onto the side and help tow her out!" Under Timothy's direction the boat was righted and her bow turned away from the shore. Two boys , could not swim, and they simply hung on; two could swim a little, and they gave Timothy such aid as they could in working the boat farther from the surf line. Then they bailed her out with a tin pan tied to a thwart to guard against loss under just such circumstances, climbed over the side, pulled the mast and sail aboard and got out the oars for a pull to Long wharf, where the boat had been hired and where the boys had left their clothes. Nobody suggested an at tempt to raise the sail. As they dipped the oars for the first stroke another boat drew along side, manned by four fishermen. "Don't you fellows know enough to keep your boat out of the surf? Want any help?" asked one of the fishermen. "We do," said Timothy, taking it upon himself to answer both ques tions; "but we didn't at ten o'clock this morning. We've been in the water long enough to get pretty cold. One of you get in here and give a band down to Long wharf; let me get into your boat and put me ashore at the Arcadia wharf." "I'll pay you for your trouble," said Will, speaking for the first time since lie had called for help. The suggested changes were soon made, si lit 1 indue time the sailing party reached Long wharf. The boys went ashore, dressed, settled with the fisherman and the boat owner, and rode their bicycles j to the bath house, where they ex j peeled to sc<> Timothy, but did not. j llicy spent some time looking for i him and then regretfully took the bicycle path for home. Timothy had left the fisherman's j boat at the Arcadia wharf, gone to the bath house and dressed. Lacking I the 35 cents necessary to pay car i fare, lie then took the bicycle path , for a It) mile walk to his home. Four | or five miles oilt a wheelman passed him with a rush, but stopped a few yards beyond. It was Joe Drown, and behind him came the others of the boating party. "Who's afraid of wet feet?" shout ed Joe, as lie came running back. "Timothy Farnham's four friends!" bawled tin- others in chorus, as if practicing a new class yell. "Into whose heads lies some sen a souked?" iiiy out one of the others. "Head nf Tim Fariihttiii's four friend-.!" brick* d the chorus. "Say, lint," »aitl Will, "when you've ri-k'il your life to save one you usedn't '* "Oh, cut it klinrl! It's all right," said Timothy. n' ill i if*lit," un"Wi red Will. "I'.ut if It'll li.le Kg wheel 11. •[!■•'. Of ! ride by tui'iii, I'll take it n • an honor; i \ ..1.1 II it'll lite to SWIIII I'll be H , burro 101 l ' ciioti rh to carry you houi* 41 li> ■ ii \ll'l," 1 .11 In r *ln'e|ii*hljr, L"«|* Won't talk any more about Tii** MQp I U lib's 1 ocnfiUMutt. BETRAYED BY A ROOSTER. Story KcJiitcil li>- Admiral .lonelt of the Clever Capture of a flloeltntic lltiitiier. OT no officer in the navy are more amusing stories to I'd than of the late Admiral Jouett. He was tvot only a conscientious and brilliant officer, but one of the kindest men, the merriest souls, and the cleverest story-tellers that ever wore the navy blue, says a Washington correspondent oft he Chi cago Inter Ocean. A favorite tale with him, and one that his cronies never tired of hear ing repeated, was his account of the capture of a blockade runner which came about by his hearing a rooster crow. "In the early days of the war," the admiral would say, "I was a youngster of a lieutenant, in command of the Montgomery, an old sea monster of a merchantman converted into a man of-war, which, like the Mary Dunn, of Dover, had three decks and no bottom. "Her battery was poor, anil the chase gun. a ten-inch Columbiad, had been condemned years before. The powder was wet, and the fuses of the shell defective. "We were cruising off the coast of Louisiana, out of sight of land, await ; ing the supply steamer from the north. There was little to eat, noth ! ing to do, and I was still suffering ! fiom the wound I received when we | captured the royal yacht, j "One densely foggy morning at I about four o'clock 1 was pacing up ; and down the deck with the mid i watch, when I suddenly heard a rooster crow. It was some moments I before the significance of that crow | occurred to me. Then, turning to i one of the officers, I said: "'Are there anv chickens-aboard?' j "'No, sir.' " 'Didn't the boats bring any yester day?' " 'I think not,' was the answer. "'Well,' said 1, 'when we swung up north 1 hoard a rooster crow. A blockade runner had certainly gone . out. Call l all hands. Make sail'—it. was'a still' wind—'for Havana. Send word to the engineer to give me all j the steam he can, and send extra men. | tn the fire room.* "I had been ill' for a long time, dan -1 ge rolls ly ill, and at this order the un | der officers exchanged significant | glances. " 'Xo. gentlemen,' said I, divining their thoughts, 'I am not crazy. 1 heard a rodsfer crow, and we'll find him when this fog lifts.' "When the fog lifted at 7:110 a. m. before us lay a schooner, all sails set, making for Havana. Tile condemned gun was fired, but the powder was worse than the gun, and the ball,after rolling on the water for half a mile, sank. "We soon overtook her, however. She was living the Louisiana stale flag, showing a pelican, and as we ranged alongside we found 14 hard ; and desperate looking men in the j stern. "'Haul down that rag,' 1 yelled at the top of my voice. "My order m*t with no response. Thirty marines stood on the poop deck I y \ i—. ■ 111 115 :p TUB CONDEMNED GL'N WAS FIRED. ' of the Montgomery with muskets ' loaded with ball and buckshot cart i ridges. I "'Sergeant, ready!' was the eoni -1 nvand. 'Haul down that rag, you,' I called out again, and down fell the pelican from its proud position, ""How in thunder did you know we were off here'." asked the captured ! captain. " 'You've got a roo*:ter on board," re plied I, 'and he gave us warning of your vicinity at four o'clock thi.- ' morning.' "'l'll wring his neck!' growled the , furious confederate. " Wo, you won't,' I sharply un aoiiiM id; 'he's mine by right of eap i iiiii,' and aiiH'e then 1 have always maintained that the biblical loonier ! was not the only hintoric chanti cleer." % *l>t-ii k lim I.lkt'itfti. •'Mr Jones," In gau old Skiullinl, the 1 litisw, as he cleared his throat, "you have btfu in mv employ ju»t .'<i \ i m - today. ami have proven a good ami faithful i-crviint. I propose to make i yoti kUbstalitial Mtengnilion of your lidclily . Here i» a photo of my mlf a. a pit nil ''Thank- It'* jun like yt.u," mot II .ti .I.i l.e ai . pit d i lie v*iu | 4 bit. If it L*tttUJOi W Au*ki. 40. LINCOLN AND THE CLERG YME7I One liu»tiinne in Which tin- <>cn!al I'ri'.Hidpnl liijNt Ilia II it hi I mil laouil Humor* Clergymen were always by Mr. Lincoln at the white house with the respectful courtesy due to the sacred calling. During the j»r< »;»■- ress of the war, and especially in its earliest stages, he was visited almost daily by reverend gen tlemen, sometimes as single visitors, but more frequently as delegations, says Col. Ward 11. Lamo.n. in the Phil adelphia Times. He was a patient listener to the words of congratula tion, counsel, admonition, exhorta tion and sometimes reproof which fell from the lips of his pious callers, and generally these interviews were entertaining and agreeable on both sides. It. not infrequently happened, however, lliat these visits were pain fully embarrassing to the president. One delegation, for example, would urge with importunate zeal a. strict •observance of the Sabbath day by the MR. LINCOLN'S REPLY WAS A NOT ABLE ONE. army; others would insist upon a speedy proclamation of emancipation, while some recounted the manifold er rors of commanding generals, com plained of the tardy action of the government in critical emergencies, and proposed sweeping changes of policy in the conduct of I lie war. On but one occasion that I can now recall was Mr. Lincoln's habitual g< od humor visibly overtaxed by these well meaning but impatient advisers. A committee of clergymen from the west called one day, and the spokes man, fired with uncontrollable zeal, poured forth a lecture which was fault finding in tone from beginning to end. It was delivered with much energy, and the shortcomings of the administration were rehearsed with painful directness. The reverend orator made some keen thrusts, which evoked hearty applause from other gentlemen of the committee. Mr. Lincoln's reply was a notable, one. With unusual animation he said: "Gentlemen, suppose all the property you possess were in gold, and you had, placed it in the hands of Hlondin to carry across the Niagara river on a rope. With slow, cantious\ steady slept he walks the rope, bearing your all. Would you shake the cable and keep shouting to him: 'Blondin, stand up a little straighter! Hlondin, stoop a little more! (io a little faster! Lean more to the south! .Now lean a little more to the worth!' Would that be your behavior in such an emergency? No; you would hold your breath, ev eryone of you, as well as your tongues. You would keep your hands off until he was safe on the other side. This government, gentlemen, is carrying an immense weight. I'ntold treasures are in its hands. The persons manag ing the ship of state in t his storm aret doing the best they can. Don't worry them with needless warmings and complaints. Keep silent, be patient, and we w ill get you safe across. Good day, gentlemen. 1 have other duties pressing upon me that must be at tended to." TWO BRAVE WOMEN. Sutt'il 2i Train of Soldier* from lie*'!ruction I'lanintl l»y 11 ii sliw li a i»k t» r.*(. In traveling on the cars from Bethel to Jackson. Teiili., the Twenty-seventh lowa infantry was saved from a fear ful loss of life by the heroism of two union women this was in the sum mer of 1 so;;, says the American Trib une. The train was running in the night, and at a high rate of speed, and just before reaching a railroad bridge the engineer saw a couple of lantern* be ing waved in the distance, directly on the track. lie stopped the locomotive and men were sent ahead to ascertain t he cause of the alarm. They found that the lanterns were held by (wowomen, who explained to them that a band of busli w hacker- in the vicinity had been in formed of the coining of the regiment and at about eight o'clock that even ing they would set lire to the bridge, allowing the main timber* to burn, so they could Hot bear the weight of the train, and then put out the tlame» and went away. Their purpose was to have the corn run on the bridge, and then go crash ing down for feet into thi' river, car rying ttuo Holdierk down in the fall. Tin -e noble women had learned of the intention* from the bushwhack er* u they reinuti 1 into Ihenoiin tains, it li • I thi'v walked ten inilrs 111 ■• I It'll tlo 11.11' 111 ! >,III kill % s til ill* the nuioii Mtliliers. 4 li «hl' ill Ituli. No futilt can t»e found with a niiitt'i tn • hi iltits il tic It in L time to ib .li i lie d " u'l *»««■'. to do. Awhi le* i.JL*. HAS BRIGHT FUTURE George B. Cortelyou, Private Secre tary to the President. Hl* SurresM .Should Hi* an Inspiration to Ainhlt loud Von iik \in erica 11 m —May llecouie a Cabinet Me in Iter. The intimation has come from Wash ington that George I>. Cortelyou may become a member of the president's cabinet. Those who know the man best believe that he is worthy of such an honor, and capable of tilling such a position. Jll tin* United States to day there are few more interesting men than George 11. Cortelyou, the secretary to the president, intellec tual, energetic, dignified, and court eous, this man seemed endowed by na ture and fitted by training to perform the duties and meet the emergencies of his particular work. The position of secretary to the pres ident of the United States is an arduous one. In the rendering of its multi tudinous services, it calls for the busi ness qualifications of a methodical and systematic clerk, in the performance of the daily routine of official work, and the finesse of a practical diplomat in meeting and satisfactorily adjust ing situations between the president and an assorted public, each individual of which believes himself entitled to a portion of the time and interest of the chief executive. .Mr. Cortelyou worked his way to his present high position through sheer ability and determination, lie is still a young man, 40 years of age, and his success may be regarded as an indica tion of a still more progressive and brilliant career in the future, lie be gan as a stenographer, and, as a court reporter, was considered one of the most rapid and accurate in the coun try. In 18'Jl he became private secre tary to the fourth assistant post master general. Toward the close of the Cleveland administration he was transferred to the white house. He GEORGE B. CORTELYOU. (President's Choice for Propose J Portfolio of Commerce.) J was for several months a stenographer ! to the president, and was then ap | pointed executive clerk, which posi | tion he held until the beginning of Air. ! McKinley's second term, when he was made private secretary. While in Washington Mr. Cortelyou improved his spare time in the study of the law, and, in 1895, was graduated | from the Georgetown University Law | school. The following year he took a post-graduate course in the Columbian university. Mr. Cortelyou was born in New York | city July 2ti, 1802. lie was educated I in public and private schools, and is a graduate of the Hempstead (L. I.) in stitute,and of the state normal school at West field, Mass. He holds the de gree of LL. I>. from Georgetown uni versity. and the degree of LL. M.from Columbia university. lie was for a while a law reporter in New York, and then was principal of preparatory schools in the same city from lssj to 1889. In the latter part of 1889 lie be gan his career as a private secretary, having served in this capacity with the post office inspector at New York, the surveyor of the port of New York, and the fourth assistant postmaster gen eral. In November, 1895, he was ap pointed stenographer to the presi dent; in February, 1896, executive clerk; in July, ls9B, assistant secretary, and in April, 1900, upon the resigna tion of John Addison Porter, on ac count of ill-health, Mr. Cortelyou was i made full secretary. This is a modest and thoroughly American career. Having had not more than an average preparation for | hi* life's work, Mr. Cortelyou has in variably done the small tilings that he I found to do so well that he has been Called to do greater things. During t lie four and a half years t hat | Cortelyou served the late President | McKinley, tirst as assistant private | secretary and later as private secre tary, he developed a remarkable trait I of memory. As assistant secretary it was part of Mr. < ortclyou's duty when the prcsi- J dent was traveling lu sec the reporters { from the various newspapers and to | furnish them the particulars of the chief exccuti»e's pluusand movements. Hundreds of reporters throughout the country thus became personally ac quainted with Mr. Cortelyou, who not only remembered their faces in con nection with tlie newspapers which they represented, but ill the great lllU jority of eases rentei altered tin- per sonal names of the Interviewer* theui selves. Merlin It IIH >N I I• I li> Minna. 'I he ver> "112 Berlin an- lwt|*v ft.in ii li .in lie.-, nt ,uij other large eliv in ihe world, in fuel, ilt< i.• ur« li" tilth) slHl'l in th»' tieriliiiii en pi t.il ami the p.. r i p. <>pl« linn. * r «
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers