THE SEVEN BELLS.

Te Aroha News, Volume XI, Issue 1748, 6 July 1895, Page 3

THE SEVEN BELLS.

“Every now and then., In overhauling literature I see where the old gophers are still letting off loud howls which make me weary.” It was Mr. Tokens, the marine, who thus complained of the gophers and their conduct in literature as he stowed his timber leg under the mess table and brought his hairy fist down on the samo with a thump that made the dishes dance. The old gentleman looked weary, a condition the skipper remarked and which cause Mr. Skate, A. 8., to wish he were only half as tired. The Seven Bells club was in executive Bession in the cabin of the Anchor chophouse, with Mr. Tokens in the chair. He had evidently been reading something which did not agree with him. It was seldom anything did meet his views, unices it were an invitation to drink, and then he only consented with apparent reluctance. No one, hot even the inquisitive lub-

ber ,'Willie Bloke, ventured a query regarding the old gophers until after'the' / skipper had ordered a bottle of red wine * with the rib steaks home. Then the recognized head of the organRation addressed Mr. Tokens: . “So the gophers are at it again?’-he hazarded, though he had not the rehiiffcest idea of what the marine was driving at. “They are always at it, howling through the long and the dog watches and making*«ftjlhands sick. If they didn’t-have or the bug juice, why didn’t they give an order on the . nearest store and let -us have peace?” >' As Mr. Tokens delivered himself of this remarkable statement the club exchanged uneasy glances, and Willie Bloke grow pale. .v “Give him some seltzer or something,” he whispered to the skipper. “May I ask you, sir, what kind of literature you have been overhauling?” tho - sldpper gently inquired, paying no heed. • to the lubber’s agitation. /‘The early logs of different states—history, I believe they call it, which is full of old gophers who could have bought the lot where the courthouse now stands for a pair of boots, or got a quit claim deed to the after end of Kan-. . sas for a pint of whisky. But they didn’t have the boots or the liquor, so they keep oh howling.” “HeV all right," whispered the skipper, greatly relieved. “I’ve heard these howls myself.” 1 ■ .„ “They are driving express wagons now ' -or loafing around in groceries,” Mr. Tokens, went on, “blowing their lungs out telling how rich they would be if things . ■ - had been different. That’s what makes me weary. It isn’t the chances a man has in life, but the way he hooks on and use 3 his head and steering gear. You never heard me growling about the hard luck that leftine stranded in my old age.” “Have you had some narrow escapes?" asked the lubber. “Escapes from what?” “Being wealthy.” . “Well, I should say I have. Boots, moldiy blankets and beverages are nowhere, but it .wasn’t my fault. A lunk headed, chuckle brained, tar tainted, ignorant seaman blasted my hopes in life.” And Mr. Tokens broke forth into a torrent of picturesque blasphemy that would have exhausted a pirate’s reper-

tory.' ’ j tig * * These here remarks about ignorant I able seamen is a swipe at me, I take it,” said Mr. Skate, rising and waving his fists in the air. “Don’t get choppy,” cautioned the sapper as he dragged Mr., Skate back into hia chair. “Let the man spin. You ain’t the only able seaman alive.” Apologies followed, and then the matine squared away on the course sug- ; gested by the- old gophers in literature. > “A shipwreck that left me tostarve on a desert island would have made my pile, but for this bull headed able seaman. I He’s dead now and out of the way, but . my sailing days are over since I got this i leg.’” teere Mfr. Tokens pounded the leg I on the floor and did a little more oma- j mental swearing. “We were bound from Liverpool to ,- Australia with general cargo when an | • equinoxial gale ripped the canvas off us and drove the: ship - ashore. The ship grounded in the night on Sydney island in the South sea, one of the Phoenix group, locatecLin longitude 171 degrees 22' minutes. / (jrest, latitude 25 degrees : sou ;h, and all hands perished but' me and , one able seaman. When daylight came, ; we found ourselves on a desolate lagoon- J island lying low on the horizon and I leac/ues .away from the track of navigar j The hull of the vessel, which was an i von one, was piled up on the beach ' wit-si' bales, barrels and boxes of cargo . t?ja<. came ashore with the wreck. “There was plenty to eat and drink, but the seaman wanted to lay right down, arrd die. I kicked him a counle of -times, Dup as sun wanted to die, so 1 set off to explore' the island; The ship’s' boats wore alLgono, and I knew we were doomed so far as rescue was concerned,

but I never let on to the seaman. It

didn’t take me long to make the circuit ■*Jo£ the island, and I found something that •%,,&ave me an idea, and a too.” 'At this point Mr. Tokens was again overcome. He smote himself on the - brow and cursed the memory of the able seaman who had blighted his life. A “drink, however, restored him, and he started in again. “Where was I at?” he asked. “You had just made a discovery,” replied the clubjtleeply interested. • “About 100 yards from the wreck and

close to the beach I stumbled on to a - eperm whale aground on his stomach in . adrjj.gully with his*head out to sea. He was partly buried in the sand washed . up by the.gale.” . , “Was the whale dead?’ Willie Bloke inquired. . “Of course he was. Do you suppose he would be cruising inland if ho wasn’t? He had a harpoon in his ribs, which 1 Teokonrkilled him before the storm threw him up .on the island. Going back to the seaman and giving him a few more kicks —rapid ones they were —I told him we were saved. J: “,‘How so? ho savs. y “'•‘Ask no questions,' said 1, *but turn to and help.’ He braced up, and we un- . shipped the main topgallant yard from

the -Wreck? Tins waa'a hollow iron spar about 40 feet long with a wooden plug in each end. We pulled the plugs out and then went to overhauling the cargo. Luck was with me, and I soon found what I wanted. This'was a lot of bales of loose cotton packing in long strands the size of a man’s thumb. Wo stretched this, out in the sun, and when it got dry me and the able seaman plaited a long wick to fit the iron spar. Then we rove it through, with about 10 fathoms to spare, and planted the spar in the whale’s blowhole, with the extra wick floating around in the spermaceti inside of his head. I reckon the whale had about 20 barrels of fine oil in his brain looker. We guyed the spar with small wire cables, and then I made the seaman shin up and touch her off.” “Did it bum?” the skipper gravely inquired. 9 ' "Yon have seen a tar barrel afire, I reckon. Well, that is a tallowdip compared to my lighthouse. She loomed up like a torchlight procession on end. The able seaman said 1 should have been an admiral and wanted to Mss my hand, but I set him to work with a shovel burying the whale. It was hot weather, and I wanted to keep the oil cool, Bv working all night we got the whale under cover, caving in the soft sides pf the gully and them banked th®. base of the spar with socks. “In the morning I concluded to douse the lamp because it was a big waste of oil and did no good in daylight, 8o I sent the seaman aloft with a tin pail to snuff the wick, but the blooming spar was sohot he couldn’t get more than half way up. There was nothing to do but loaf around and let her burn. “For nearly three weeks she blazed, lighting up the eea for miles around. The light attracted birds of all kinds, but no ships. It kept us busy daytimes drag* ging away the fowls that flew into the flame at night, and the smell of burning feathers nearly drove us off . the island anyhow. At last a trading schooner gaised our beacon light, put In, and we were saved, The captain was struck with my lighthouse and wanted to know how I kept her going. “Oh, that’s an oil well we discovered,’ I said, giving the able seaman a kick. “So.” said the captain, “and who owns theislanor “We do,” I pqidj and so did the ;■ able seaman before I could kick him again. “Do you want to sell out?” he asked. “To be sure, if you’ve got the figure,” I said; “How much?’“Forty thousand dollars in cash money.” “Done,” said the captain. '‘Come aboard the schooner and get the money.” Once more Mr. Tokens filled up and was about to founder, but the skipper rescued him with a pull at the bottle. Then he fetched a sigh that sounded like the wind whistling through a cemetery as the wreck «f ruined hopes floated out of the past. ■ . “Dad bing hisonery picture, but that able seaman was low and ignorant! He wasn’t rigged for business, but got frothy all at once and said he wanted a plug of eating tobacco to boot on tho $40,000 before he left the island. You see, he thought he was smart like me and wanted to sail a sharp bargain, but the captain was pretty close hauled on a deal himself. I kicked the seaman some more and promised him two plugs when we got to San Franoisco, but he said he was no flying fish, and that "wealth would make me proud and haughty. -- vy e backed anil filled for two days with the deal hove to. Then the captain was about to split the difference with half a plug when the whale went dry, the wick fell in, and I was left on my beam cads., Holy smoke, but that captain got mad! He threatened to leave ns on the island, but the idiot seaman begged so hard the old man calmed down again and allowed us to work our passage home. But we might have owned the schooner.” At this point in his narrative Mr. Tokens lurched heavily, his sail came down with a run, and ho threatened to roll bis spar dec|f under. Bat the skipper and Mr. Skate took charge of the derelict and made a rough passage home in a water front hack.—Charles Dryden How to Avoid Colds. A writer in tlxe Providence Journal advocates ft practice for avoiding colds which has at least the merit of being very easy to try. He says: For many years my occupation took me to crowded political and labor meetings, genesally.held in rooms destitute of any means of ventilation. The heat was intense, the air fetid and poispnous. I have left such meetings bathed in perspiration and plunged into the chill of a winter’s night, thereby running the risk of catching the severest eold. Yet; strange to say, : I enjoyed a singular immunity from such, aggravating ailments. At the first touch of cold air,l took a deep inspiration and then held my breath for half a minute, in the meantime walking as fast as I could. During that half minute the pores of the skin were closed against the chilling atmosphere, and by the time the lungs called for reinvigoration the body had considerably cooled and, the risk' of a chill was over. I recommend this practice to public speakers,'vocalists, entertainers and those who are obliged to frequent unduly heated rooms. In my own case the practice never failed, and although I fully believed - irt its value I never understood the reason of it until a learned scientist came forward with the remarkable theory that while holding the breath the skin could be maintained impenetrable to the sting of the bee. ' - liuminous Fungi. There are probably few who have not at Borne time or another met with cases of luminous fungi. The writer of this paragraph well remembers an old oak tree, hollow with age and exposing a large proportion of decayed wood, which glowed at night almost as brilliantly ns if a light had been placed inside the hollow shell. -In some part 3 of the world species with this characteristic are much more common than in others. In the islands of the Indian ocean a genus, known as pleurotus, furnishes a species, according to a French mycologist, which is so abundant and in which the phosphorescence is so enduring that the native women use it for personal adornment in the hair and dress. It is said that the glow will continue occasionally for 34 hours.