SWEPT OUT TO SEA.
Mr. Noman's farm was a large one, and ran clear down to the shore,
terminating there in a singular formation of sand and rocks, known
throughout that region as "The Camel Humps." A small cove lay west of
the formation, while the main waters of the sound stretched out to their
widest extent from the south and east. The only point, therefore, where
the "humps" touched the mainland was at the north, and even this point
of contact was so narrow as simply to furnish a roadway down upon the
"humps" themselves.
Of these "humps"--for there were, as their name suggested, but two--the
northern one was much the smaller, embracing perhaps an acre of rough
soil, covered with a stunted grass, and dotted here and there with red
cedars. The southern one, on the other hand, covered also with a scanty
vegetation and scattered trees, broadened out so as nearly to land-lock
the cove behind it, and cause its waters to rush in or out, according to
the tide, through an exceedingly contracted passage at its extreme
southwestern end, popularly known as "the sluiceway."
The point of contact of the southern with the northern hump, like the
northern hump with the mainland, was also very narrow, and to its
narrowness was added another feature--it was so low, or, in more
technical language, it was so nearly on a level with the high-water
mark, that when there happened to be a strong wind from any eastern
quarter, the waters of the sound, on the incoming tide, would rush with
great force over the slight barrier and mingle with the waters of the
cove, making an island, for the time, of the larger and more southern
hump.
Three-quarters of a mile off shore, and a little to the northeast of
these humps, was an island of an irregular shape and a few acres in
extent, bearing the name of Sheep Island. The name had belonged to it
since colonial days, but the reason therefor was unknown, unless at that
early period some enterprising farmer had used the island as pasture
ground for animals of that kind, which gave the island its title.
This island had in later years, however, a more illustrious inhabitant.
A gentleman of considerable means, tired of society, or for some reason
at enmity with it, crossed over from the main shore, erected a small
house, dug a well, set out trees, planted a garden and built a wharf--in
fact, set up thereon a complete habitation. But not long did he endure
his self-imposed solitude. Scarcely were his arrangements completed when
an unfortunate accident caused his death, and the island and its
improvements were left to be the home of the sea-fowls or the temporary
abode of some passing fisherman.
This extended description has been given because it is essential that
the reader should form a definite idea of the island and its relation to
the "Camel Humps;" for on and about them no small portion of our young
hero's summer was destined to be spent.
During the fall and winter months previous to Matt's coming to the farm,
owing to the repeated storms, there had been landed on the "humps"
immense quantities of seaweed, so highly prized by the farmer as a
fertilizer. Mr. Noman had contented himself, however, with simply
gathering it into a huge pile on the summit of the southern hump, above
high-water mark, intending to remove it to the barnyard in the spring.
Thus it fell to Matt's lot to cart from the heap to the yard as the weed
was needed, and the first week in June found him engaged in this work.
It was a cloudy and threatening day. The wind was from the southeast,
and blew with a freshness that promised a severe storm before night.
Perhaps it was on this account that Mr. Noman had directed the boy to
engage in this particular work. He was himself obliged to be away on
business, and this was a job at which Matt could work alone, and the
weather was hardly propitious for any other undertaking. So, immediately
after breakfast, Matt yoked the oxen to the cart and started for his
first load.
"There ain't over four loads more down there, an' if ye work spry ye can
git it all up by night!" Mr. Noman shouted after him, as he drove off.
The distance from the barn to the "humps" was such that, with the
roughness of the way, one load for each half-day had usually been
regarded as a sufficient task for the slow-walking oxen.
But Matt knew he had an early start, and he determined to do his best to
bring all the weed home that day. He therefore quickened the pace of the
animals, and before nine o'clock had made his first return to the yard.
Unloading with haste, he immediately started back for his second load.
When he crossed from the north to the south hump, he noticed the
incoming tide was nearly across the roadway, but thought little of it.
On examining the heap of seaweed, he became convinced that by loading
heavily he could carry what remained at two loads.
He therefore pitched away until in his judgment half of the heap was
upon the cart. It made a big load, but the oxen were stout, and, bending
their necks to the yoke, they, at Matt's command, started slowly off.
As he approached the narrow roadway, he noticed the tide had gained
rapidly and was now sweeping over it with considerable force and depth.
Jumping upon the tongue of the cart, he urged his oxen through the
tossing waves. To his consternation, the water came well up around the
patient animals' backs, and had he not quickly scrambled to the top of
his load he would have been thoroughly drenched.
The cattle, however, raised their noses high as possible and plunged
bravely through the flood, soon emerging on the other side with their
load unharmed.
The rest of the journey home was made without difficulty, and Matt at
dinner time had the satisfaction of knowing that two thirds of his
appointed work was already accomplished.
Mr. Noman had not yet returned, and, hurrying through dinner, Matt
hastened off for his third and last load, hoping to get back to the yard
with it before his employer came. But hardly had he started when it
began to rain, and as he passed down upon the first hump the wind,
having shifted a point or two, was blowing with a velocity that made it
difficult for the oxen to stand before it.
Slowly, however, the passage across the first hump was made, and Matt
approached the narrow roadway leading to the other, then he stopped the
team in sheer amazement.
In front of him was a strip of surging water of uncertain depth, and he
instinctively felt that there was a grave risk in attempting to push
through to the other side. But he was anxious to secure his load. He had
passed through safely enough before, and he resolved to attempt the
crossing now, counting on nothing worse than a drenching.
This was a grave mistake, and Matt would have realized it, had he only
stopped to think that there was quite a difference between his situation
now and when he had made his successful crossing before dinner. Then he
had a loaded cart, the wind and tide were both in his favor, and the
water had not reached either its present depths or expanse. Now his cart
was empty--a significant and important fact, the wind was blowing with
greater force and directly against him, while the tide--as he would have
seen had he watched it closely--had turned, and was rushing back from
the cove and out into the open sound with a strength almost
irresistible.
But, unmindful of these things, Matt bade his oxen go on, and, though
they at first shrunk from entering the angry waters, he forced them
onward, and at last they began the passage.
For a rod they went steadily on, though the waves dashed over their
backs and into the cart, wetting Matt to the knees. Then came a sudden
breaker, rolling outward, that lifted the cart and oxen from the
road-bed and swept them out into the sound.
The moment Matt realized that the cart was afloat and the oxen swimming
for their lives, his impulse was not to save himself, but the
unfortunate animals that, through his rashness, had been brought into
danger.
Springing, therefore, between them, he caught hold of the yoke with one
hand, and with the other wrenched out the iron pin that fastened it to
the tongue, and thus freed them from the cart. In the effort, however,
he lost his hold upon the yoke, and the next minute found himself left
alone, struggling with the angry billows.
He was now forced to look out for himself and could not watch the fate
of the oxen, even had he had an inclination to do so, indeed with his
water-soaked clothing, which greatly impeded his efforts, there was
already a serious question whether he would be able to reach the shore,
good swimmer though he was.
With a strength born from the very sense of the danger that overwhelmed
him, he turned his face toward the fast receding shore, and swam
manfully for it.
For a time he seemed to be gaining, but the tide was too strong for him
and his strength was soon exhausted. Slowly he felt himself sinking.
Already the waves were dashing over his head.
He made one desperate effort to regain the surface, then there was a
faint consciousness of being caught by a huge wave and hurled against
some hard object, and all was blank.
[TO BE CONTINUED]
--The average duration of lives in the United States is 41.8 years for
storekeepers 43.6 years for teamsters, 44.6 years for seamen, 47.3 years
for mechanics, 48.4 years for merchants, 52.6 years for lawyers, and
64.2 years for farmers.
TALES OF BIG FISHES.
The whip ray, sea bat or devil fish, as it is variously named, is fairly
plentiful in Galveston Bay, so the appearance of four of these sea
monsters at one time the other day did not excite any special remark.
But they were seen by three boys, all under sixteen, and they determined
to get one and sell it. So one of the boys borrowed a Winchester rifle
while the other two got a rowboat and a harpoon, and out they went after
their prey. The boys rowed around awhile, and soon saw one of the
fishes, and pulled up within forty or fifty feet. One of the boys fired
a shot into the ray, which immediately breached, scooting fully twenty
feet out and ahead, like a flying fish. Two more shots were fired, and,
after beating the water furiously, it died. Then a harpoon was thrown
into the creature, and it was towed to the wharf, where it was slung and
hoisted out with a windlass. This fish measured fourteen feet from wing
tip to wing tip.
Another fish tale from the Gulf of Mexico relates to the adventures of
five sailors who were running a small schooner down the coast off Corpus
Christi. The vessel was gliding along smoothly when the monotony of the
voyage was broken by a six foot tarpon leaping upon the deck from the
water. The big fish at once began making things interesting on the boat,
and for a time it looked as if the crew would have to jump overboard to
escape being knocked lifeless. They finally regained control of their
nerve, however, and decided to have it out with the fish, so one of them
seized an axe and the others hand-spikes and at the tarpon they went.
The struggle was long and fierce, and one of the sailors was knocked
overboard by coming in contact with the tarpon's tail. A rope was thrown
him and he was pulled back on deck. At last the fish succumbed to the
repeated blows of the axe and hand spikes and lay along the deck as dead
as a mackerel.
When the steamer Dumois came into Boston recently, she brought as a
passenger a man named John Calder, who came on board under peculiar
circumstances. He was a Jamaica fisherman, and unwittingly hooked a
sword-fish. Mr. Calder didn't want that kind of a fish, but it would not
let go, and, as he did not want to lose a long and valuable line by
cutting himself away, both man and fish held on until forty miles at
sea. At this juncture the steamer came along, the fish was captured, and
the plucky fisherman sold the big catch to the marketmen.
"The prettiest battle I ever witnessed was between a young Cuban and two
sharks," said an American sea captain. "We had reached Havana and were
lying half a mile from the docks, awaiting the signal to go on. Several
fruit peddlers had boarded us, among them a swarthy, bare legged young
fellow who looked like a pirate. The purser was standing by the rail,
holding his five year old son in his arms, watching a couple of monster
sharks that were hanging about the vessel, when the child slipped from
his grasp and fell into the water. The father plunged overboard and
seized him, and the sharks at once made to the pair. The bare-legged
young buccaneer dropped the fruit-basket and went over the rail like a
flash. As the first shark turned on its back, the invariable prelude to
biting, the Cuban rose, and with a long, keen knife fairly disemboweled
it. The other was not to be disposed of so easily though. The purser and
his child had been pulled on deck, and the combatants had a fair field.
The Cuban dived, but the shark did not wait for him to come up and
changed his location. Finally the shark advanced straight upon his
antagonist, his ugly fin cutting through the water like a knife, turned
quickly upon his back, and the huge jaws came together with a vicious
snap, but the Cuban was not between them. He had sunk just in time to
avoid the shark, and, as the latter passed, shot the steel into it. The
old sea wolf made the water boil, and strove desperately to strike his
antagonist with his tail but the latter kept well amidships and
literally cut him in pieces."
As one of the Peninsular and Oriental steamers was steaming up the Red
Sea, the lookout forward called the attention of the officer of the
watch to the fact that a huge shark was jammed in between the
bobstay-shackle and the stem. Investigation showed that the monster,
which was over thirty feet long, was almost cut in two. The stem had
struck him just below the gills, and, while his head protruded on the
starboard side, his body had slewed in under the port bow. The sharp
iron stem had cut into the creature to the depth of a foot, and all
efforts to get it clear were unavailing. The captain at last ordered the
vessel full speed astern, and that sent the man eater adrift. The
accepted theory was that the shark had been asleep on the surface of the
sea when struck by the swiftly-moving steamer.
PUZZLEDOM.
No. 663
Original contributions solicited from _all_. Puzzles containing obsolete
words will be received. Write contributions on one side of the paper and
apart from all communications. Address 'Puzzle Editor,' Golden Days,
Philadelphia, Pa.
ANSWERS TO LAST WEEK'S PUZZLES
No. 1. Tied, diet, tide
No. 2. C A L A M U S
A V E R I L L
L E G A L L Y
A R A M E A N
M I L E A G E
U L L A G E S
S L Y N E S S
No. 3. Eve r
No. 4. A
B A
A B J U R E S
A U G U R Y
R U M O R
E R O T I C
S Y R I N G E
C G
E
No. 5. Beta, bet, be, bate, bat, at.
No. 6. S
I S
N E T
G E N E R A T E
S E M I N A L
R E C O R D
D E N T S
No. 7. F-all
No. 8. P A D
P I L E D
P I C A M A R
A L A L I T E
D E M I S E D
D A T E R
R E D
No. 9. O we go
No. 10. S
P A
S P E C T R E
A C T I O N
T I N T S
R O T A T E
E N S T A M P
E M
P
No. 11. Edmund Dantes
No. 12. R
C A R
C A M E L
R A M B L E R
R E L A T E D
L E T T E R S
R E E N A C T
D R A G O O N
S C O R N E D
T O N E D
N E D
D
NEW PUZZLES
NO. 1. CHARADE
Whate'er my _one_ has brought to light
It never was a _whole_,
To think of it brings down my pride
And cuts me to the soul.
My principles will not allow
That I am "obs." should _two_
_Three_ any word that Webster calls
Not just exactly new.
For those of course who patronize
Antediluvian lore
'Tis easy quite to build _completes_
And such like by the score.
_New York city_ LUCREZIUS BORGERS
NO. 2. SQUARE
1. Pain in the ear. 2. Town of France. 3. A body reflecting light
brightly. 4. A purchaser. 5. A sharp, shrill, harsh sound. 6. P.O.
Ontario N.Y. 7. Placed in regular form before a court.
_Brooklyn N.Y._ MOONSHINE
NO. 3. DOUBLE WORD ENIGMA
In "pine-clad hill,"
In "harvest home,"
In "cider mill,"
In "star-lit dome."
Indulged and spoiled in tender years
He grew a wicked youth
He early learned to curse and steal
And never spoke the truth.
He did not love his books. He said,
"Catch me sitting on a stool
The livelong day! I'd rather be
A dunce than go to school."
Instead of going to school, he'd hide
His books and run away,
With other bad boys like himself,
Into the fields to play.
Or take his gun into the woods
The harmless birds to shoot,
Or climb the farmer's orchard trees,
And steal and eat their fruit.
On Sundays, when he should have gone
To Sunday school or church,
He'd take his fishing rod and go
To fish for trout and perch.
One day while fishing all alone
Down by the river side,
He tripped, and with a headlong plunge
Fell in the river wide.
In vain he cried aloud for help,
No one was near to save,
The waters closed above his head--
He found a watery grave.
Now let this bad boy's fate teach us
_Complete_ is wicked in God's sight
And let us all henceforth resolve
To try and do what's right!
_Charleston, S.C._ OSCEOLA
NO. 4. RIGHT STAR
1. A letter. 2. A pronoun. 3. A spectre. 4. Quadrupeds of the genus
_Equus_. 5. Defensive arms. 6. Unsweet (_Obs._). 7. Startles (_Obs._).
8. A bone. 9. A letter.
_Pontiac, Ill._ CAN'T TELL
NO. 5. SYNCOPATION
A _one_ arose between some bees--
Indeed of them 'twas very wicked--
They fluttered in about the trees,
Among the grass and in the thicket
Some thoughtless bees within the hive
A scheme upon the drones were working,
To make them labor they did strive
But "drones" were only made for shirking
The queen now on the scene appeared,
A _fine_ her coming quickly making
For she among them all was feared--
Their hearts were filled with fear and quaking
Said she "A 'drone' can never toil,
A 'sinecure' is his position
He lives on those who till the soil,
Like any other politician."
_New York city_ JEJUNE
NO. 6. HALF SQUARE
1. Clairvoyance. 2. Computation. 3. Parts of a flower consisting of the
stalk and the anther (_Bot._) 4. Buffoons. 5. A hard amorphous mineral.
6. Open thefts (_Rare_.) 7. Belonging to it. 8. To see (_Obs. Word
Supp._) 9. A letter.
_Rochester N.Y._ THEO LOGY
NO. 7. CHARADE
An old man sat in his easy chair,
The _firsts_ of his life almost done
How thankful am I, in this world of care,
That my course is nearly run.
My _second_ is waiting to greet me
In mansions so bright--far away
In the glorious house I shall soon be,
Where all is eternal day.
This would have been a hard _total_
From its cares I hope soon to be free
With me I think all things will be well
When the Son in His glory I see.
_Iowa City, Iowa_ TANGANIKA
NO. 8. OCTAGON
1. To destroy. 2. A venomous reptile inhabiting the East Indies. 3. The
bleak. 4. Little wheels. 5. Comely. 6. A friend. 7. An Arabian prince,
military commander and governor of a conquered province. 8. Drives
together (_Obs._).
_Louisville, Ky._ X ACTLY
NO. 9. BEHEADMENT
Palm tree boughs are lacing
Through which the moonlight steals,
And bathes the spot like silver
Where India's daughter kneels
Her white robes round her falling
Her hair as black as night
Has its coil of richest rubies
Like a crown of crimson light.
A lamp on the shining water
It is a simple test,
Does he _prime_ live, her lover--
Lone star on the river's breast?
See it nears the turning
Now it's rocking to and fro
In a splash, like liquid silver,
Then it flickers and grows low.
India's white-robed maiden
Clasps her hands so tight
Her face grows pale with anguish,
_Fine_ brighter grows the light,
Then on through the lily masses,
Like a spark amid the blue,
Floating safely onward--
Floating slowly from her view
_Philadelphia, Pa._ SNOWBALL
NO. 10. NEWARK ICOSAHEDRON
1. A small cask. 2. A genus of climbing shrubs. 3. A kind of cover for
the finger. 4. Exemption from oblivion. 5. To dye. 6. Images. 7. A genus
of acanthopterygious fishes. 8. A house whose walls are composed of
logs. 9. General figure. 10. To stir. 11. One who mingles. 12.
A surgeon's instrument for scraping bones. 13. To plow.
_Newark, N.J._ JO HOOTY
NO. 11. NUMERICAL
Edith, dear, do you not recall
How we stood long years ago
2, 1, the bridge, one cold, bleak _all_
Looking at the pool below?
How we watched the dry leaves sailing,
2, 3, 4, 8 its cold breast
While the breeze was softly wailing,
As it bore them to their rest?
How you wondered, were they happy
Now their life was 2, 8, 4 _last?_
How can they 6 and 7 happy
When their summer life is past?
Ah! the years have fallen round me
Since we stood beside the stream
And I have shown the hopes that found me
Then to earth were but a dream.
Oh, were you and I together
On that bridge, once 5, 2, 8, 4
I would give a different answer,
Than I did in days of yore
I would tell of summers fading--
How the sun must set at night
And of all the thick mists shading,
Sun and summer from the sight
I would tell of that deep yearning
Springing from the fading years
For a sun that has no turning--
For a life that has no tears
Yes! those little leaves that we recall,
Drifting on the streamlet's breast
They were glad, that bleak and chill _all_--
They were glad for they had rest.
_Charleston, W. Va._ R E FLECT
[->] Answers will appear in our next issue solvers in six weeks.
SOLVERS.
Puzzles in PUZZLEDOM No. 657 were correctly solved by Madora Carl, Hello
Ian, Ran-de Ran, Night Owls, Lowell, Weesle, Charles Goodwin, Crovit,
Willie Wimple, Romulus, Night, Windsor Boy, Osceola, Flora Nightingale,
Addie Shun, Jejune, Stanna, Carrie Wolmer, Mary McK., Lucrezius Borgers,
Claude Hopper, Katie O'Neill, Tweedledum and Tweedledee, John Watson,
Dovey, Fleur de Lis, Rosalind, Little Nell, Spider, C. Saw, Legs, Joe-de
Joe, Flare, Dorio, Marcellus, Maxwell, Louise M. Danforth, Cora Denham,
Woggins & Co., Herbie O., Brig, War Horse, Essie E., B. Gonia, Mary
Roland, Theresa, Mary Pollard, Uncas, Duchess, Olive, Coupay, May De
Hosmer, Al Derman, Meandhim, Beta, Tanganika and Arcanum, V. I. Olin,
Lib Bee and A. L. Vin.
*COMPLETE LIST--Madora.*
Easy Methods Of
MAKING SLIDES FOR THE MAGIC LANTERN,
By John Boyd.
The new three-wick and four-wick magic lanterns which are now made are
so good, and give so much better results than the old oil lanterns, that
they are coming largely into use, and for ordinary purposes they do
remarkably well. The better class of them stands comparison even with
the oxy-hydrogen light, although of course they are excelled by it. They
are so easily manipulated that many boys now possess them and work them
with good effect. The more expensive ones are fitted with first-class
lenses, and can be used also with the oxy-hydrogen light.
Two years ago my boys became the happy owners of one, and many a
pleasant evening has been passed since, looking at photographs and
pictures by its aid.
It has been used with good effect, even in large rooms, to show
diagrams, to illustrate lectures and to exhibit pictures to the
Sunday-school children.
No sooner had the lantern been obtained, however, than a demand arose
for pictures to show with it. In most large towns they can be hired from
the opticians, but they cost at least twenty-five cents a dozen per
night and, apart from the expense, it is not always convenient to get
them; then to purchase them is more than most boys can afford, as the
commonest, full-sized chromolithographed slides cost from two and a half
to three dollars a dozen, while hand-painted pictures or photographs
vary from three to ten dollars a dozen.
Accordingly we determined to try if we could not make slides for
ourselves, and, as our efforts were crowned with a fair measure of
success, I think it will interest the boy-readers of GOLDEN DAYS, many
of whom, I feel sure, own lanterns, to hear what systems we found to be
the best and easiest. I shall confine myself to those pictures that can
be made entirely by hand, and accordingly will leave photographs out
altogether.
Bought hand-painted slides are usually first photographed on to the
glass from a large outline drawing, and then colored; but so few boys
have the means of making their slides in this manner that it will be
best to pass this system by, especially as I shall describe a method of
making the sketch which answers as well, and is much easier.
At the very outset, we were met with a difficulty that we feared would
be insurmountable, and that was that it was almost impossible to make a
neat, fine-lined sketch with a brush and paint on plain, smooth glass;
and, even when this last had been managed, the coloring process often
washed out the outlines and made unsightly smudges, and, as every little
line, spot or smear shows with painful distinctness when magnified on
the sheet, we soon saw that amateur work on these lines would never do.
Fortunately I remembered a process, which I once saw used by a
microscopist, to make diagrams for the lantern to illustrate his
lectures, which answered admirably.
This was simply to draw, with a very hard lead pencil, on ground glass,
then to cover the ground surface with varnish, which rendered the glass
perfectly transparent.
I tried this plan, and got such good results from it that I can strongly
recommend it. By following out the instructions and hints I shall give,
any boy can readily and rapidly make a large series of excellent
pictures for his lantern, which will answer his purpose quite as well as
the most expensive bought slides.
This system has four great advantages: 1. Pictures can easily be traced
on the ground glass, and to those who, like myself, would find it
difficult to invent their own pictures, or to copy them, this counts for
a great deal. 2. The outline can be made very fine, but still very
distinct. 3. The paint will not take on the lead-marks; this renders it
much easier to prevent the color going over the edge of an outline.
4. It is also very much easier to paint on the slightly rough surface of
the ground glass.
There should be no difficulty in procuring this glass at any glazier's.
It need not be plate glass; ordinary ground glass will do, care being
taken to select that with a sufficiently fine and smooth surface, and
not too thick.
I have found _water_ colors for lantern slides the best for painting
with. They are very much easier to use than the _oil_ colors, and are
quite as transparent. Ordinary paints will not do, as some of them come
out perfectly opaque, but a box of the special paints can be procured
for a dollar. A camel's-hair brush, however, is of no use; you must have
a stiff sable brush. One No. 3 or No. 4 will be a handy size, and will
answer for all purposes, even for the finest lines.
In selecting subjects, use those where the outlines are clear and of a
size adapted to the usual sort of slides, which are invariably made now
three and a quarter inches square.
First rub a dozen ground glasses perfectly clean with a wash-leather
that has been washed in water in which a little soda has been dissolved,
to make it quite free from grease. During this cleaning process, the
surface of the glass can be sufficiently moistened by breathing on it.
Trace the entire series of outlines on the ground glasses with an H.H.H.
pencil, making the lines even lighter than the original, for it will be
found most convenient to have a number of slides, say a dozen, in
process at one time. Brush off any loose fragments of black lead, taking
care that they do not mark the glass.
You are now ready to proceed with the coloring, but, as you will wish to
be sure as you go on that you are keeping them sufficiently transparent,
it will be found to be a great help if you can always see through them,
even while painting them.
[Illustration: FIG. 1]
You had better, therefore, make an inclined stand, and this can easily
be done, the only tools really required being a knife, a brad-awl and a
screw-driver. Procure one piece of wood 14 inches by 6 inches, one piece
of wood 12 inches by 6 inches, one piece of wood 14 inches by 12 inches,
all 3/8 inch or 1/4 inch thick.
Divide the first piece along the dotted line A to B, by cutting right
through it with the point of your knife. These two pieces will make the
sides of your stand. The piece 14 inches by 12 inches will make the
bottom.
Cut two laths 14 inches long, 1/2 inch wide, out of wood 1/4 inch thick,
and tack them along the upper inner edges of the two sides a quarter of
an inch below the top. These will form two ledges. Now fasten the piece
12 inches by 6 inches to rest on these ledges, which will serve to
support the hand. The upper portion remaining must be filled up by a
piece of strong, clear glass, 14 inches by 8 inches, which will rest
on the ledge at each side, and need not be fastened in, as it will
sometimes have to be removed to be cleaned.
Fasten all the parts together with screws, so that you can take it to
pieces and pack it away flat when not in use. Those screws with a ring
at the end instead of a head, such as are used to fasten into the backs
of picture frames to hang them by, are the handiest, as they can be put
in with the fingers, and cost hardly any more than ordinary screws.
This stand will be large enough to hold six slides at once, and enables
the light to shine right through them. A sheet of white paper should be
placed underneath to throw the light up.
Should the light be too strong it can easily be modified by spreading a
sheet of thin, white tissue-paper between the glass and the slides.
Of course daylight is best to work by, but I find you can get on very
nicely with an ordinary oil lamp, if placed at a convenient distance
from the stand.
An ordinary paintbox will contain twelve colors--namely, two blues,
neutral, crimson, brown, yellow, scarlet, burnt sienna, orange, two
greens and black, all but the last being quite transparent. These will
be found sufficient for ordinary work, as they can be greatly varied by
judicious mixing.
First of all the skies should be painted in on all twelve slides. As
long as you do not go over the outlines, great care need not be taken
about laying the color on evenly.
Now cut off a small piece of clean washleather, which has an even,
smooth surface. Let the color become nearly dry, then proceed to dab it
all over with the washleather, held on the end of the finger, breathing
on the slide when necessary, in order to keep it sufficiently moist.
This process must be continued carefully until the whole painted surface
is perfectly even and shows no mark of the brush, and only sufficient
paint must be left on to give a blue tint.
You must always remember that if too darkly painted the pictures will be
too opaque. Clouds can be put in nicely also with the bit of
washleather, but extra work of this sort is hardly worth while.
Then proceed to tint the other portions of the pictures with suitable
colors, doing one color at a time right through the set of slides, but
after applying each color, immediately dab with the washleather, to
render the color even and light.
You will find that by keeping to one color at a time you will get along
much quicker, and will also make the pictures more uniform.
When you have completely tinted all the pictures and "dabbed" all the
colored portions, you may then go over them all again and shade them up
where required with rather stronger colors, taking care, however, not to
overdo this.
You will find for faces yellow, with a very slight addition of crimson,
answers the best. It may not look all right on the slide, but it will
when thrown on the sheet.
You will need to consider the effect of the various colors, as some show
much more strongly than others. The next process is to varnish the
glasses to render them transparent.
With most color boxes for painting magic lantern slides a bottle of
varnish for this purpose is supplied, which answers fairly well. It has
to be painted on, after the slides are thoroughly dry, with a large
camel's-hair brush.
Lay one coat on by drawing the brush right across from one side to the
other, taking care that the lines of varnish so deposited slightly
over-lap one another. When this coat of varnish is perfectly dry and
hard, another and sometimes even a third coat must be applied, and it is
best to lay it on at right angles to the previous coat, so that all the
surface is sure to be covered.
Make each coat as thin as possible, and to facilitate this keep the
brush soft by occasionally applying a little turpentine to it. This,
however, is a slow and tantalizing process of varnishing, and there is
an easier and better one. Procure a bottle of Canada balsam in benzole.
It is used for mounting microscopic objects in, and can be got from any
optician's. It should be quite fluid. Get a large wide-mouthed bottle
and pour the balsam and benzole into it. Then add to it as much again
pure benzole. It should now be nearly as fluid as water. This is your
varnish. Apply it just as a photographer coats his glass plate with
collodion. That is done in this manner. Take hold of the slide by one
corner and pour on to it a sufficient quantity of the balsam and benzole
to cover it.
You may need to encourage it to flow by slightly tilting the slide, and
sometimes it may even be needful to take a clean quill toothpick and
direct it into some corners that otherwise would be missed. Then pour
back all the superfluous varnish into the bottle from one corner of the
slide; the varnish remaining will rapidly harden, as the benzole
evaporates quickly, and the hardening may be hastened by applying a
little heat, but while hardening the slides should be protected from
dust.
[Illustration: FIG. 2.]
I make mine perfectly hard by baking them on a thin iron plate fixed a
few inches above a small spirit lamp, but you need to take care not to
make the slides too hot, or they may crack. I can easily varnish and
harden a dozen slides in less than an hour.
A thin plate of iron, such as is used for an oven plate, can be arranged
on blocks of wood, a sufficient height over the spirit lamp. One coat of
this varnish is usually sufficient to render the slides perfectly
transparent, but a second coat can be applied as soon as the first is
hard if necessary.
The slides are now finished, but the varnished surface will easily
scratch, and must be protected by a piece of clean glass. Between the
glasses a thin paper mount should be laid, which may be a circle, an
oval, or a square, according to which is most suitable to the pictures,
and then the two glasses must be fastened together by narrow slips of
paper gummed round the edge. These mounts, and slips of paper ready
gummed, can be procured from any optician, and will save labor,
especially in fixing up the edges.
Before you join the glasses together insert at the right hand top corner
a number, so that by looking at this number you can readily arrange the
pictures in their proper sequence, and also tell which is the right side
up when putting them into the lantern carrier.
Sometimes you may wish to copy some other slides, but owing to their
having the covering glasses on you cannot trace them readily direct on
to your ground glasses.
This difficulty is overcome by using tracing paper, making the lines
with a fine crow-quill and ink. Then you can easily trace from these
copies through the ground glass. We also made some very good sets of
shadow pictures by cutting out suitable sketches in paper from the comic
and other illustrated journals, and mounting them between two sheets of
glass. These answered admirably, and when carefully cut out, no one
would believe, when thrown on the sheet, that they had not been painted.
We also made some sets of tracings on plain glass, of sketches in black
and white. Of course ink would not do, as a fine line could not be drawn
with it, and it was too transparent, but we found that, by using black
water color, in which a drop or two of thin gum had been mixed, it was
quite easy to draw upon plain glass with a fine pen, and then the solid
parts could be filled in with a sable brush.
Comic sets copied from the illustrated papers were very easily made, and
came out exceedingly well on the sheet and afforded great amusement.
This system, and the cutting out in paper, is very simple, and of course
takes much less time than the colored and varnished drawings on
roughened glass.
THE AKHOOND OF SWAT.
By J. H. S.
A number of years ago there came over the cable an announcement that the
Akhoond of Swat had died, and immediately there was an outburst of
merriment in the newspapers. No one could tell who or what he was, many
believed him to be a myth, and for a long time the Akhoond was a
standing joke among paragraph writers all over the world.
But the Akhoond was a real personage and no joke, and it is only
recently that we have found out what a really great man he was.
Swat itself is a considerable province of Afghanistan, bordering on
India, and just southwest of the Pamirs. The Akhoond was not, however,
its civil ruler. At any rate, he was not nominally so. The title Akhoond
merely means "teacher," and he was, primarily, a religious teacher and
nothing more.
He lived in the town of Saidu, and he reached manhood and began to teach
the people more than half a century ago, when Dost Mohammed was Ameer of
Cabul.
An intense fanatic and a mystic, he exerted a marvelous sway over the
people of Swat, who like all the Afghan tribes, are nervous,
imaginative, and given to mysticism. So he became not only their
spiritual prophet, but their military leader as well.
He led the hosts of Islam against the Sikhs, in the days when Dost
Mohammed planned to conquer all India, and many are the stories told of
his prowess.
Nor did he fight alone against the Indians, but in 1863 he led the
Afghans in their battle with the British at Umbeyla, and made himself
the most feared man in all the Afghan empire.
When not busy in the wars, the Akhoond was always to be found at Saidu.
From sunrise to sunset he sat in his mosque, reproving the erring,
comforting the mourners, encouraging the faithful, and cursing the
obstinate unbelievers.
Disputes of every sort were brought to him for settlement. Troubles of
all kinds were brought to him to be made right. Hundreds of miracles
were performed by him every day. The sick were made well in an instant.
A man would come, lamenting that his horse was lost, and would find it
the next moment at the door of the mosque. A carpenter was bewailing
that a beam was three feet too short for the needed purpose, and in a
twinkling it grew to exactly the length required.
A visitor in the city wished to return speedily to his home in
Constantinople, thousands of miles away. He was bade to close his eyes,
and the next moment opened them in his home.
To tell the people of Swat that these things were not so, would have
been equivalent to telling them that light was darkness. No wonder,
then, that the Akhoond was a power in the land, and that Ameer after
Ameer sought his assistance.
Shere Ali was the last. When he began his last struggle with the
British, he begged the Akhoond to lead his armies as of old. But death
stepped in, and the Akhoond passed into history.
Yet still his virtues abide. The mosque in which he taught is the
holiest place in all Swat, and miracles are daily wrought there. The
Akhoond's son does not succeed him as a teacher, but he inherits the
worldly possessions of the Akhoond, and these are enough to make him the
richest man in all Swat.
[_This Story began in No.44._]
A PLUCKY GIRL
or,
"For Father's Sake."
A Story Of Prairie Land
BY CELIA PEARSE,
Author Of "Little Gothamites," "Will She
Win Her Way?" "A Wise Little Woman,"
etc., etc.