THE DUSKY DUCK,
Within the blind, before tis light,
I take my place to watch, and wal
The coming of the morning flight
Of dusky ducks to meet their fata,
The mist against the eastern sky
Is rising now; as breaks the day
The gloom is fading into light,
The horizon is streaked with gray
I think that up the stream I see
A welcome sight, as in the air
A speck appears; yes, one, two, three,
Nine large black ducks toward me bear,
My trusty “Scott” with trembling hands
I closer grip, and try to calm
My beating heart, while on the sands
I lower crouch so that the charm
May not be broken; now the flock
Is surely coming to the blind;
My heart stops beating; here they come
On whirring pinions like the wind.
Just as they turn my right speaks out,
And bang! spat! spat! now two ducks fall
Then with the left through smoke and doubt,
I speak, two answer to the call,
Two shots, four ducks, with rapture held,
There's nothing more I can desire.
* * . » . ®
My wife at once the dream dispelled
With “Come get up and make the fire.”
se.
SPECTRES ON THE TRAIL
In the summer of 1873 I was thirty
years of age—in perfect health and of
‘steady nerve. believer in
the uncanny—hardly in the supernatur-
al—and had always
I was no
tales of ghosts, phantoms and visions
of all sorts. But at the time mention.
ed above the experience I am about to
forced
for the possibility of apparitions.
It is unnecessary to explain how 1
eame to be travelling in the Far West
me to find a place in credence
and dog and gun.
general route of the old overland trail,
I camped one night in
forest,
from which I could
broad, open plain.
Following
the edge of a
considerable and at a point
It was already af
good horse was picl
provided a supper
dog from a rabbit
brought down an hour o WO
I disposed things for the night, and
8s the
sleep, comfortably
> It was
stars came out, lay down
probably in the small
of night that I awoke and rose
The n
a A TT $4} - 3 ¢
the eastern sky, with not a feather of
to a sit-
1000 Was climbing
ting posture.
stood forth as clearly as
Bat it
plate in quietude the rare beauty
in the day.
was not for me to contem
of
the night. In almost the first moment
of consciousness my eves
slowly moving object
of
the ‘‘prairie
those
It was one
Wagons,
CANVAS-CO
schooners”
travel to California.
It was approaching almost directly
toward me, and my curiosity was at
‘once aroused.
traveling thus, and so late at night, I
sould not imagine.
was heavy, as if the-horses were jaded,
and the man who walked by their side
had a weary step.
Twenty minutes passed, the vehicl
approaching still
on it came, until when about thirty
yards from
and the man
be considering the wisdom of making
camp.
At this moment I suddenly realized
Why anyone should be
"he
nearer and nearer.
me it suddenly stopped,
looking about seemed to
that the approach of the wagon had
been utterly noiseless. Nota chuck of
the wheels, not the sound of a
either of horse or man. And, further-
no indication that I
had been discovered, although I should
have been as visible to this man as he
to me. What could this mean? Was
I dreaming? No, I was never more
awake. Was this hallucination? No,
for the dog, who had been aroused by
my movement in awakening, now
turned his head in the direction of the
new arrival, and uttered a low growl.
Ilaid my hand on him to keep him
quiet.
The man now stood by the forward
wheel, looking in at the opening of the
canvas top, and though I heard no
voice, I imagined that he was speaking
to some one within, A woman's head
appeared, and after a glance around,
gave a nod of assent, and the man prd-
ceeded to unharness the horses and turn
them loose to graze. Then, after a
moment, in which le seemed to be
anxiously surveying the trail over
which they had come, he helped the
woman to alight.
And now their movements greatly
puzzled me. Walking to and fro, they
seemed to be searching for some par-
ticular spot of ground. As [I said
sbove, I had selected my camping
ground in the outer edge of the forest.
They were moving about therefore
&tep,
more, there was
but every motion was visible. Finally
trees, and the man
of
forth a spade.
rear end the wagon and brought
With the edge of this
space about five feet by two, and be-
gan to dig. All this, let it
bered, was in absolute silence.
were apparently living beings, actively
engaged, and not more than a hundred
feet away, and vet no sound was borne
to me on the quiet air,
By this time my curiosity had turn.
Here was a
tion of common
ed to marvel.
could not
believe that what I saw was real; these
And yet
here by my side was the dog, as alert
sense! |
beings must be apparitions.
investigate, while obedient to my hand
of restraint,
The digging proceeded, and the soi)
being soft five feet of depth was
reached, and then the man threw out
the the ground. The
woman, meanwhile, had been plucking
branches of evergreen, bringing them
S00n
spade upon
in armfuls and throwing them beside
And
with the utmost care and patience, the
whole cavity
“the grave,” I thought. now,
with these
sprigs of evergreen, held in place
was lined
by
side.
This done, the man sprang out.
The two surveyed their work for a
moment, and then after gazing once
more, as if in anxiety, over the route
they had
ed the wagon.
by which come, approach-
Having rolled up the
small mattress, depositing it upon a
had spread upon
This mattress was not without its
The beams of the full m«
down
steadfastly
g and the dead.
mother forthwith
s t}
ne spreads upo
NTO
pr
n ti
and
them emoothi
hb nor any expre
could see that her bres
on either side,
weeping over her, though trying a]
varently to comfort one ther in
an
mutual wretchedness, if per-
chance there their
the
her
might come in
hearts a calm like that with which
moon was «till sending down
beams to illumine the tearful scene.
Then laying hold of the blanket they
carried their darling to the gravé, and
by the aid of the the
precious burden down into the place
bridle-reins let
which they had so carefully prepared.
(reen boughs were scallered over her,
until they covered the beautiful form
many inches deep, and then the clods
replacad, little
mound was heaped, and the child trans.
were gently and a
ferred from her mother’s bosom was
sleeping at last in the bosom of that
greater mother— Earth. The two sad
mourners knelt again beside the grave,
and seemed to be engaged in prayer,
lifting their faces now and then to the
#ky, ns if in its "infinite clear depths
they saw the future hopes.
All this—though I still thought it
unreal-had awakened in me the keen-
est interest and sympathy. But my
attention was now suddenly diverted
to a line of figures in the distance,
somewhat beyond the spot where I had
seen the wagon when | first awoke
These were horsemen who came sweep
ing on at a rapid pace, as if engaged in
eager pursuit. From the manner in
which they rode I knew they were In.
dians. Ah! I saw it all now, and
understood why these spectral visitors
had so often looked back apprehensive
ly in the direction from which they
had approached, These pilgrims across
the plains had seen signs of savages,
and had used the night to push on be-
yond their reach, if haply they might
bury their dead in peace and flud safety
for themselves. But the foe had dis.
covered their trail and followed them.
bent on massacre.
I laid my hand instinctively on the
rifle under the edge of my blanket that
I might join in the defence, sad was
about to cry out in warning of the
flanger I saw approaching, but instant-
ly bethought myself that this was un-
reality, a mere vision, calling for no
practical action, and I might better let
these shadows work out
to the end. 1 again restrained the dog
who seemed agitated, whether bees
use
he saw what | was seeing, or out of
not which.
scious of the threatened danger until
their
yards, when the man sprang up and
her feet.
They turned toward the wagon, as if
lifted the woman also to
late. 1
flashes of fire and also a flight of
rows, still without a sound, however,
for defence. It was too saw
ar-
to break the calm of the night.
Both the man and woman staggered
as if wounded. They
face,
stopped and
turned face to their
arms about each other as if realizing
An-
other volley, and still clinging to each
other in the agony of death, they fell
together upon the grave of their child,
throwing
that this was their last embrace,
The Indians were not long in com-
pleting their work. Then catching the
horses and harnessing them into the
wagon they hastened away, as though
themselves of pursuit. I
watched them until they disappeared
in fear
and then was alone with my thoughts
and the brilliant night.
I realized that I had seen a vision,
and, though I turned myself resolutely
to rest, my sleep for the remainder of
fitful
When finally I awakened again, the sun
the of
the night was and disturbed.
had risen, and under influence
spite of the vividness of the night's ex-
perience, 1 began to think that after
all 1
especially when |
(ht have been only dreaming ;
saw that
where I had seen the bus
1
n with
fortune.
tidings of
ard of them »
I have not been able
Was
information vouch
factorily for what 1 have related.
this an indubitable
safed to me from another world as to
the fate of my relatives? If so, why
was it reserved for this time and place?
Was it impossible that I should have
And if this is
Had nature pho-
this vision elsewhere.
the ease, then why?
tographed these tragic scenes and pre-
their
them for
gome occult law
hold?
Can
served reflection, to reproduce
an eye that was fitted by
of sympathy to be-
Let the savants answer if they
I cannot. Edward B., Bayne in
The Overland.
QUEER BANK DEPOSITORS.
A Greenhorn Who Thought
Signature look Was His
Deposit Book.
As queer things happen sometimes ay
the banks as anywhere elss, It
the
fellow walked into the First National
of Chicago, and asked for a certificate
of deposit. He counted out his money
and handed it through the window,
The teller took it, counted it and threw
it into his box. Then taking his great
canvas-covered book, wherein are en-
tered the signatures of the thousands of
people who hold certificates of the First
National, he threw it around and passed
it through for the galoot to sign. The
next instant, when the teller looked up,
that depositor was half way down the
big banking room with that great book
under his arm and making for the door,
There were the money boxes to look
out for and the drawers to close, and
the clerk could get out in pursuit only
by running down and around one hun-
dred feet of counters. He didn’t try
to do all these things. He hallooed to
the nearest customer he saw outside to
run and stop that fellow with the great
canvas-covered book. That was no
difficult matter. The man was making
his way painfully and slowly down
Dearborn street and came back cheer-
fully. He thought that that forty-
pound book, he said, was his certificate
of deposit,
_— Sui nice-looking but Tatchly.
young woman began depositing
$100 a week at the First National
the window made bold to con
fies Shalt whe 14a S0Ing to. W n
business, “Dont give WAY,
“my husband is
add
The Owner Tells Uncle Billy Bowers
All About Him.
eeently on tne i1ltie branch narrow
gauge from Bowersville to Hartwell, |
met the sherii—an unabridged, irre-
pressible, native Georgian, lle’s a
cueel ful Georgian.
To a good many people in Georgia, to
the sherlll’s name is at once an intro.
duction and description, for everybody
in that country knows Jim Roberts,
Crouched under Jim’s seat
mensley, thin, and white
black cur,
was Jim Kobert's dog.
couvicted him of anything
exws, sheep killing, chicken stealing or
what not, He was a miserable, mean
looking dog,
Unc e Billy Bowers sat just behind
Jim. The two talked like old friends,
and, in the course of conversation,
Uncle Billy recalled an experience of
his own in wh ch a very intelligent dog
bad figured,
Jim could hardly wait for the old
man to finish his story,
“Talk about dogs.” in a matter of
fact tone, as Uncle Billy concluded his
dog story, ‘I’ve got the smartest dog in
this country, Uncle Billy, He don’t
look as fine as some dogs,” reaching
under the seat for the black and white
cur, ‘but that dog’s a miracle,”
The miracle was held up by the nape
of the neck for Uncle Billy's inspec-
tion, as non-committal as a dishrag,
“Them eyes,’ continued the owner,
proudly, as the miracle walled its eyes
around in a vague effort to escape,
“just look at them eyes,”
Uncle Billy’s face was a study.
dently he was not certain In his own
mind that the dog was a miracle,
**Unele Billy,” in the same ma’ ter of
fact as the miracle was let go
“that dog bas as much human pature
in him as me or you, I tell you what
that dog does, You know that little
branch In my botom? Well, sir, Le
fishin’ every day at dinner
a8 regular
"wri
“Vi
tone, '
ROUS time
as the boys do, and the
+
up under
rock to scare out the sh, and
valch "em as they
{ 1 1
He don’t
LI WOT,
ies Can v
8
Te in.
{ more than got
PPyY was back
him back to
's box and went to bad again. 1
le up my mind 0 go Ww
puppy set up a whine,
the porch. 1 hated to
Kil the puppy. 1 just carried
ack to Tucker's box, and 1 tried a
pew scheme on him. I bundled him
up under Tucker's nose and put one of
Tucker’s forelegs around him, like a
woman holds a baby. ‘Now, Tucker,’
says I, ‘bold "im! I went back to
and to sleep,
more of the puppy that night,
back in bed bef
mi Lhe porel
just made
nim
gets his supper, old Tucker picks him
up and puts him to bed. When the
puppy is frisky and don’t want to go,
Tucker justs picks him up by the back
of the neck and then lies down ic the
to sleep,
“He's a mighty polite dog,
is”
The doubtful look on
face had given place to one of vivid
interest, The owner
could convince a dictionary.
“Polite?’’ repaated Uncle Billy.
“Mighty polite dog—mighty polite,
George Parker came over a week or
Tucker
of bis along. You've seen that
hound many a time,
to the fence, "bout the kitchen place,
That night 1
the pup, but never once thought of that
old hound,
“Tucker looked up like he was
waitin’ for me to do something else,
and after waitin’ for a minute or 80 he
picked out the biggest piece of meat
and started ‘round the house with it,
I followed to see what he would do
with it, and the minute I turned the
corner of the house I understood it all,
There was that old hound hadn’t had a
thing to eat for dinner or supper.
Tucker walked up and laid down the
meat, and the old hound went for
it. "
“That’s a fine dog,” maid Uuncle
Billy, “Heap o* folks wouldn't er done
that.”
“Tucker jest set there like he en.
joyed seein’ the old hound eat, waggin’
his tail,
“But the smartest thing Tucker ever
done,” continued the sheriff, medita-
tively, “was threes or four days
there at home. That puppy got so he
would kill the little chickens and nally
1 tied him to the woodpile, That was
at dinner time, and in little or no time
that puppy had crawled around and be-
twixt the logs till he bad just about
hung himself,
é
wis a desperate case,
and Just plebed io and gnawe |’ ee
Uncle 13 ¥ heaved a sigh of relief,
*Cruawed (hat rope in two,”
Uomurt doz,” sald Uncle
his mind that
Billy,
“Smart dog”!
“But I haven't told what
done, As 800 as the rope was gnawed
in two, Tucker Look the rope in his
}
you ike
puppy until I went to him, You see,
Pucker knew the puppy was tied there
for a purpose, and he knew id wouldn't
dotolet go. So be made a bitching
“That? ee
“Yes, ¢ir, that same dog 1 showed
You wouldn't think it, would
you? That dog is certainly a miracle,”
“He certainly 1s,” agreed Uncle
Billy,
EE ——— Sha
Alabama's Boss Outlaw,
lube Barrow, “Red Rabe” he is
called in the terrorized region he lives
in, is physically a splendid specimen of
manhood.
of age and
stocking feet,
His shoulders
stands 6 feet 1 inch in his
weighing 175 pounds
are very broad
lar. He is
hood dave,
never beaten in a foot
in a wrestling match. His face, even,
has a muscular appearance, It is
rather long, with high cheek bones and
prominent lower jaws protruding no.
His
complexion is inclined to be light, his
hair a dark, sandy color, rather stifl,
and his mustache long and drooping.
Hig eyes are, however, the main
of
igh~-Diue ] ) t
race or thrown
ticeably backward under his ears.
ture his IDeArance, q
well
rz, giving hb fn
are
bs i,
FRALCK
are very
appearance,
in Blount
Wis
County
dressed in a
jean and wore
broad sombrero o ;
ing down from
around hi
valuables are muc
et ———————
A Clergyman’s Queer Idea.
A distinguished
cently condemned all social and
fictions. When, for instance, s
bore calls upon you, he you
ought to tell him that vou are not glad
to see him, but that, on the contrary,
ou are sorry to see him, and that yon
This sort of brutal
r
the pulpit,
clergyman has
thinks
ed out. A clergyman might as well
quit preaching who should begin his
sermons as follows: “My selfish, most-
hearers, I
despicable
and that you do not come here to learn
to show your good
«New York Tribune.
It Had a Familiar Sound.
“Maude,” he said softly, as he pull-
ed out the tremolo stop in his larynx,
marry me?” “No,” she
answered, with all the earnestness of
He paused as if
in deep thought, and then said:
“Strange, strange, how a simple word
revives scenes and impressions that
have passed away. I am almost cer
tain that I have heard that before.”
a
Pertinent Queries.
Why do we always talk of putting on
a coat and vest? Who puts on a coat
before a vest? ‘Fe also say putting on
shoes and stockings, Who puts on the
shoes before the stockings? We also
t up signs telling people to wipe their
t when we mean their boots or
shoes, And a father tells a boy he will
warm his jacket when he means to
warm his pantaloons. We are a Little
eccentric in our phrases, ain't we, at
times?
. hn sm ——— I ————————"
It’s not the gay coat makes the gentle
man,
From the oil of
Spanish inventor eclalus to m:
finest soap yet produced,
Ir fathers be sons to them.
selves what sons they would be.
a
the
THE
SNAKE CATCHE
Old Zachary Archer of the Storm
King Mountain.
In alittle but on the mde ot the great
Storm King Mountain, in the Hudson
Highlands, far above the river and ale
most an equal distance below the loft.
lest pinnacle of te towering hill, lives
ola Zachary Archer, who supports his
wife and himself, the only inhabitants
of the cabin, by catching snakes, The
cottage is not visible from above or be
low in gzmmer time,
The thick foliage of the trees, and
the undergrowth which rises almost to
the level of its low roof, effectually cone
ceal it; and as the old wan has an ine
surmoutable objection to a fire in the
kitchen in the warm weather, and
makes his wife walk two miles every
day Lo a small cave to cook their food,
which is always eaten cold, no floating
smoke betrays the presence of thelr
Cwelling, But at this season, when
the mcuntain trees have partly with-
the curtains that covered f(t,
while the gorse and brushwood are
No other house is
it, and itis a picture of lonells
very conspicuous,
neat
ness,
TRICKS OF THE TRADE,
The venerable snake catcher does not
like it In the winter months, and passes
as much time as he can away from it,
leaving his wife and the snakes to keep
each others company. They hibernate
together, the serpents sleeping in the
cold back room and the old woman
wood fire, which
burns night and day when the snow is
Old Zack, as he is
usually called, is generally pursuing
Lis shippery trade or doling his share of
slumbering before a barroom stove in
one of the numerous small villazes or
settlements at the foo! of the mountain,
He was engaged in the latter avocation
a few days ago, when the reporter
aroused him and asked him how be
felt, He said be was well, but rheuma-
tic, and added that the reptile business
was brisk
“It’s always a sight safer in winter
than in summer,” be said, when be had
Laken ing wash down his
“and don't get as
In summer
the copperheads stand
’ instead of
your trappin’ them. ‘ou oe, they're
always wide keepin’ thelr
peeled for danger. I can 8nd
igh, 1 to get them in-
s a horses of
I set traps for
Wes way,
sowneth
BlerDiness,
p
many snakes
Wie ratiiers
a chance of catchiz you
“wy
a snake rack
ther to the
5 the serpent, 1
at 1 carry.
8s work it he's a
BET -
0 him, and, if
b I'll be apt to
However, |
vet, and I don’t suppose
w, I'm that experienced.
him down 1 take hi
the fork, so
to bite me,
But if the
gone to bed, and I don’t
0 back about fifty yards along
1 lay my basket down
ith the lid ope Then I hunt more
to the basket
again, I ¢ urs or so, I creep up
from behind and slam the cover shut.
The snake is generally inside, mixed
up with the flannel. He's found th
place {go comfortable to get out of 1% in
a barry, The serp@it may be the wis.
est beast of the field, but he’s a luxnri.
and he don’t value his life
Serpentis cone
ous cuss,
“When I find a hole with snake
about its mouth I just hang a
fasten the single end to a stick like a
fishing rod, Then I put a lamp of soft
bread soaked in milk before the hole,
and, goin’ back, I hold the rod in my
Nearly all snakes are dead set
on milk, and the smeil of the bait is
pretty sure to draw the one I'm after
He must pass his head
and when he does that I jerk the rod,
tighten the noose, aud 1 have him. It’s
Just like fishun’.
“Then there's my dog Viper. He
catches a lot of snakes and aides me to
citch more, In the summer when he
sees a snake, be'll walk around him un
til he makes him dizzy trying to keep
his ugly eves pointed at the danger.
At last he'ii either drop his bead or
make a turn the other way to take the
kinks out of his body. Then Viper is
on him as quick asa wink, Ie grabs
him by the back of the neck out of reach
of his fangs, and bring him to me with-
out hurting him. In the winter he
can’t catch the snakes himself, but he
leads me to holes in trees and other
snug places where they lie. Just to be
on the safe side, I push a stick Into
as good as dead, they're so sound asleep
and I can pull them out with my hand,
covered witha thick cloth glove. 1
have to uss a good deal of either to
stupely my snakes when I'm movin®
them from the box or bag to ane
other,
as well as old fossils of naturalists, who
are always wantin’ curiosities,
when 1 catch a snake with two