Even that drive of a dozen blocks was full of excitement. As the buggy
whirled away from the post of the outermost sentry, after a brief
impatient interview, the sergeant of the guard sang out to the only
occupant whom he knew or in whom he felt personal interest, "Look out
for 'toughs' down the street, Fred. A gang of 'em's just been scattered
over at the Amity Works."
"That's where we're bound," was the answer shouted back over the lowered
buggy top, and then our corporal turned to his whilom "boss," but now
silent and embarrassed convoy. "Now, Mr. Manners, whether they recognize
you or not they'll see my uniform, and while they're meek enough in
front of a company, they're bold as a lion against a single militiaman.
Hoist the buggy top. That'll fend off rocks from the back and sides,
anyhow, and if anybody tries to stop us before we get to the works, whip
up and drive for all you're worth."
It was good counsel. Turning out of the avenue with its electric lamps,
the buggy was spinning through a dimly lighted, unpaved cross street.
Knots of people were still hovering about the corners--even women and
children. Loud, harsh voices were wrangling in a saloon, but for three
or four blocks northward the buggy whirled unmolested, then ahead could
be seen groups of uncouth-looking men arguing under the lamp-posts or
skulking about the street corners, and presently, as Manners's swift
roadster came springing up the street, the gas-light fell one instant on
the buttons and white chevrons of the corporal's blouse. A burst of
yells and taunts was the result as they drove by the first group. This
drew the attention of the others, and redoubled yells and a crash of
stones followed from the next, and presently the street ahead was alive
with straggling rioters running out to head off this lone vehicle,
freighted with they knew not what, but quickly divined to be of the
hated "capitalistic class." Manners reached for his whip and lashed his
spirited mare over the haunches. She seemed to leap into air, amazed and
indignant, and two rough fellows who sprang at her head were banged
aside as easily as an ironclad would burst through a shad net. But up
the street the crowd was thicker. Only five blocks away now, around the
second turn to the right, were the Amity Works and Fred's comrades of
Company L, but between them lurked some hundreds of the foiled and
furious mob, balked in their scheme of wrecking and burning the laden
cars and the magnificently inflammable plant of the wealthy corporation,
and eager to revenge themselves either on the owners or on those who had
become its guardians and protectors. Some one recognized the buggy and
Manners as they flashed by a lamp-post, and shouted his name. "Head 'em
off!" "Stop 'em!" "Shoot 'em!" "Kill the bloody hounds!" were the only
intelligible yells, and the gangs of "toughs" and tramps along the
street and among the lumber piles yelled mad echo to the cry. Stones and
other missiles came whirling through the night, some striking the mare
and redoubling her wild speed, some clattering upon the buggy top, some
few, better aimed, and from the front, whizzing into the buggy itself.
One of these stung Manners on the cheek, just as Fred, bending low to
dodge another, shouted to his companion, "Turn her to the right--next
street--it's our only chance."
Not a second too soon. Galloping now, the game little mare was hard to
guide, but Manners stood up and fairly dragged her around the corner,
the dust whirling in clouds from the flashing wheels, the buggy nearly
capsizing by the sudden turn. Here they came face to face and easily
burst through a little knot of rioters running to join the crowd on the
street they had just left, a yell of battled rage following them as they
went dashing away up the dim, dusty lane. "Courage! Only three blocks
more and we're safe," said Fred, as the manager, his grim mouth set,
gripped hard at the reins and strove to regain control. But the mare was
mad with fear and excitement now, and at the very next cross street
swerved to the left, the shortest line to her stable. The buggy
careened, whirled against the wooden curb, and in another instant,
shooting its occupants across the sidewalk, went bounding and dashing up
the street, shedding spokes, tires, cushions, and springs with every
jump, and landing, a moment later, only a dangling wreck at the heels of
the reeking mare in the hands of Company L, still ranked in front of the
shops.
"It's Manners's buggy," cried Sercombe, "and he's spilled out somewhere
up the street. The mob have got him. Save him if it's a possible thing."
So, too, said the Captain, and forty men of the "Backwoods Boys," as L
was facetiously termed by the city companies, went doubling down the
dusty street, peering eagerly ahead through the darkness.
[Illustration: "STAND BACK!" HE SHOUTED, "OR I'LL FIRE!"]
Not a moment too soon, either. Stunned, bruised, and blinded, Mr.
Manners lay like a log upon the wooden walk; but Fred, light and
athletic, had bounded to his feet, despite the shock, and in an instant
had picked up his rifle and run to the succour of his companion. With a
yell of triumph the nearest rioters came rushing down upon them around
the corner. Two blocks further away the gas-light showed other parties
of excited, wolflike men hastening in pursuit. The nearest were some
sixty yards away, but at least a dozen of them, with exultant howls and
renewed cries of "Kill 'em!" "Slash 'em!" "Lynch' em!" bore down on the
luckless manager and his sole defender. Instantly Fred slipped one of
the long copper cartridges in the breech and slammed the block. "Stand
back!" he shouted, "or I'll fire!" Then as they still rushed on he
quickly raised the long brown Springfield to his shoulder and sighted
square at the foremost man. "Halt, or I'll drop you in your tracks!" and
the coward knew he meant it, and crouched and dodged, waiting for others
to reach him. Then again, encouraged by the yells of those behind, on
they came, but slower, skulking close to the fence, bending low,
clucking and dancing to disconcert his aim. And then the words of his
Colonel at the armory came ringing in his ears. "Not a shot, men--not a
finger on the trigger except at the order fire!"--and there was none to
order here. Yet dauntless and determined there he stood, and that one
gallant Yankee boy, in whose veins the fighting blood of the Highland
clans was boiling, in the simple service dress of the National Guard,
was just enough to hold ten city "toughs" at bay one vital and
all-important moment, for when, re-enforced by the coming of their
fellows from the rear, they finally rushed on to work their cowardly
hate on the one prostrate man with his sole defender, they were met face
to face by the charge of Company L, and got the hammering they so richly
deserved.
And so morning dawned at last on smoking yards, on half-burned shops, on
slowly but surely moving mail and passenger trains, on the glistening
walls and windows of the unharmed Amity Works, all stoutly guarded by
businesslike detachments of the city's crack regiment, and the great
mobs of the previous day and night were scattered far and wide. All
night police and patrol wagons had been busily at work, and drunken or
still riotous characters were being gathered in and trundled to the
station-houses, or pitched neck and crop into some freight-car
temporarily turned guard-house. The Steinmans, Frenzels, and other
instigators had disappeared. Just as they had kept well behind the
fighting line when the struggle was hottest, so now were they nowhere to
be found when by their deluded followers as well as by the police they
most were wanted. Stoltz, too, had been spirited away, and was in hiding
somewhere among the outlying wards, but with a crack in his skull, said
the doctor who gave first aid to the wounded, that would neutralize "the
wheels in his head" for months to come. This at least was comfort to
many, and the Wallaces were in sore need of comfort, for up to eight
o'clock on this second morning of the strike not one word had been heard
of the loved husband and father. At six the Colonel himself had ridden
over to the Amity Works with a little escort, finding the neighborhood
deserted, and only a few scowling, skulking rioters left. Taking Fred
with him, he had patrolled the streets, and then given his anxious guide
a chance to visit his home. "Stay as long as necessary, corporal; but--
I've heard about last night, and shall want you later to-day after
you've found your father."
But when and how were they to find father was the question. Jim, under
the influence of opiates, still slept heavily. The policemen told off to
search came back crestfallen to say they could hear nothing of the old
man. No one had seen him since he left the shops the previous day.
Anxiety deepened with every minute, and at nine o'clock poor Mrs.
Wallace had practically abandoned hope. "They've murdered him," she
sobbed; "I know they have. They hated him for standing by his duty."
And even as she spoke there was a stir and excitement on the street
without. "Police patrol coming!" said some one, and come it did at rapid
trot, but without clang of bell or warning cry. It reined up abruptly in
front of the little cottage, and then there went up a shout of delight,
and Mrs. Wallace, rushing from the house, sobbing anew in relief from
dread and sorrow, seized and clasped her husband in her arms as with
calm dignity he stepped from the wagon. The police seemed desirous of
creating a pleasant impression. They were assiduous in their care of Mr.
Wallace. They begged Mrs. Wallace to understand that he had had the best
breakfast money could buy. There was evident cause of embarrassment and
something to be explained and extenuated, yet everybody crowded around
Wallace, and nobody seemed to care to listen to them. They hung about as
though they wanted to shake hands with him, but the old foreman only
very formally touched his hat as he said good-by.
"Where have I been? How did I escape?" he finally said in answer to
appeals of friends and neighbors. "I've been spending the night in
jail--with other desperate characters. I escaped by being arrested--in
Jim's coat--as a leader of the riot. Where's Jim?"
This was actually the case. Too few in number to effect anything in face
of such a mob, some police officers, scouting about their heels, had
caught sudden sight of old Wallace issuing with defiant air from the
side door of the threatened shops. These officers were new to that
section and had never seen him before, but his demeanor, his dress, his
badge all stamped him as a man prominent in the outbreak, and despite
his protestations they bundled him with a load of other prisoners into a
patrol wagon, and sent him to the main station two miles away. Not until
this morning could he secure recognition and a hearing. The old man was
exceeding wroth, but his wife was thankful. "He'd have been killed,"
said she, "if he hadn't been jailed."
But despite his indignation, old Wallace was on hand a few hours later
when a pleasing little ceremony was enacted at the Amity Works. There
the "backwoods boys" were drawn up in line to listen to some remarks of
their Colonel. A man of few words was that veteran when on duty, but
everybody seemed to know what was coming as he halted in front of them,
and Corporal Fred brought his rifle to the carry, stepped a few paces
forward, and stood there a little white, a little tremulous with
emotion.
"Men of Company L," the Colonel said, "you've done soldierly
service--valuable service, one and all, and some day I hope you'll get
the recognition you deserve; but there's one of your number who even
more than the rest deserves a word. Within twelve hours of the call for
duty Corporal Fred Wallace has had the conspicuous honors of being
discharged from his clerkship for obeying the summons, being knocked
senseless while doing it, being the guide of his regiment into the thick
of the riot, and finally of saving the life, at the risk of his own, of
the very man who discharged him.
"It has been your province during the night to convert some few rioters,
but it has been his to convert what is termed 'a soulless corporation,'
and I know you'll all be glad to hear him promoted sergeant on the spot.
So much for our side. Now we'll hear Mr. Manager Manners."
And amidst shouts of laughter and applause Mr. Manners limped forward
from a group of stockholders, while the Colonel heartily shook his young
guide by the hand. And behind Manners there loomed up in the doorway of
the shops a goodly stack of luscious fruit and boxes of cigars, and it
was evident the company meant to royally entertain its defenders.
And Mr. Manners was understood to express himself substantially as
follows:
"Gentleman of Company L. If these works had been destroyed last night
half a million dollars would have gone up in smoke. We couldn't get
insurance for more than quarter of its value. You saved it. Never until
last night did I know, or my associates, these gentlemen, what it meant
to have a National Guard. We thought it was the same thing as the
militia we used to join and have fun with forty years ago when we were
young, and so had determined to have no more of it in our business.
We've learned we didn't know the first thing about it. We're clean
converted. We find that young men nowadays are doing better by
themselves, their State, and their country than we did. Now I've got a
boy at home--a good boy, if I do say it--who wanted to join you three
months ago, and I wouldn't let him, and I'm going home this day to beg
his pardon, as I beg yours, and tell him I'll be a proud father if he
can wear the uniform in the same company with you and Wallace and
Sercombe. You've made Wallace a sergeant. Well, the Amity Works will
stand by what they've done, too. They discharged Mr. Wallace from what
we'll call a second-class clerkship yesterday afternoon, and they now
fill the vacancy by the promotion thereto of his friend Sercombe from
the shops. They have established another first-class clerkship, and to
fill that original vacancy they name Sergeant Fred Wallace, of Company
L, and we'll drink his health in the best and coolest lemonade to be had
in the whole State."
"Well," said old Wallace, as he sat later in the day with the mother's
hand in his, "I didn't take much stock in that soldier business either.
But where would we all have been this day but for Fred--Fred and his
regiment?"
THE END.
HINTS OF A RACING CAT-BOAT AND ITS CARE.
The popular idea that a racing cat-boat is an expensive luxury has
doubtless arisen from the cost entailed upon those who keep a racing
boat, and either cannot or will not themselves attend to the labor
connected with keeping such a craft in the best of condition. Many
boat-owners after entering for a race put their boats in the hands of
boat-builders to be gotten into condition so abundant around rivers and
bays where boat-racing is popular. To these men are usually intrusted,
besides getting the boat into condition, the procuring and training of
the crew, and if the race is important, the command of that too. Most
likely the crew will be composed of rivermen, amply compensated for
their services, and an amateur or two, one of which perhaps is the
owner. Of course all this costs, the builder having to be paid for his
labor of getting the boat ready and if he wins the race he naturally
expects something extra.
There are some owners, however, who attend to all these matters
personally, and their expenses are reduced to a very low figure.
If a boy has become the happy possessor of a boat, and is desirous of
becoming a good sailor, there is no reason why he shouldn't have the
pleasure of racing his boat, even if his supply of pocket money is
limited, provided he personally attends to all the work connected with
his boat. Besides saving much expense, it will serve to thoroughly
acquaint him with every part of his craft, a perfect idea of her
construction and rigging. If he makes a point of rigging her in the
spring and dismantling her in the fall, he will know what to do if some
part of his rigging gives way when he is sailing: and not be obliged to
do as the owner of a line boat on the Shrewsbury River did last year
when the lashings of a throat-halyard block gave way, lower sail and
wait for a friend to tow him in.
[Illustration: IN WINTER QUARTERS.]
We will suppose it to be spring and the boat to be in winter quarters on
shore. Naturally it is to be supposed that after being out of water for
some months her seams will have opened considerably. Do not attempt to
calk her in this condition, for if you should, you would run a good risk
upon the boards swelling of badly warping the planking. First of all,
put the boat in the water and allow her to fill, letting her remain in
this condition until the planking has swollen to the utmost: then pull
the boat up on land and let her dry for a day or so, so that the paint
will take. If the bottom is dirty, take a scrubbing-brush and water and
thoroughly clean it. After the boat is dry, examine all the seams
carefully, and where the openings appear too large to be stopped with
paint fill them with calking cotton soaked in white lead. Go over all
the other seams with white lead, and allow the whole to dry. Give the
bottom a good coat of either copper or arsenic paint, and paint the
above water body. After these coats have dried, go over the hull
carefully with sandpaper, and remove all inequalities. Give the bottom
and upper body another coat, laying it smoothly so as to give that fine
gloss so pleasing to the eye and so essential to the racing boat. Take
up the flooring and give the inside of your boat a couple of good coats
of paint, devoting particular attention to the centreboard trunk where
it joins the keelson. Examine the deck, particularly the joint with the
coaming. Where there are any knee openings, if the deck is painted, calk
them with cotton, if varnished, fill them with putty.
[Illustration: STEPPING MAST WITH SHEARS.]
If the deck is a varnished one, remove all the remains of last year's
varnish with sandpaper, and give the deck several coats of marine
varnish. The deck should be varnished at least once a month during the
season to keep it in good condition. At this time it would be well to
bring your sail out and lay it on the ground in the sun so as to allow
it to bleach, and give the centreboard a good scraping and varnishing or
painting, as the case may be. The boat is now ready to be put in the
water. Bring out the mast and spars, scrape with glass and sandpaper,
and varnish them. Now step the mast. If the boat is a small one it may
be lifted in by hand, but if it is a large one a pair of shears must be
rigged. (See sketch.) The shears consist of two poles, about half the
length of the mast (better if longer), two extremities of which are
lashed together, and the others planted firmly in the ground, the whole
being supported at an angle of about 45 deg. by a guy-rope. At the junction
of the two poles lash one of the blocks of the throat-halyards, allowing
the other to swing free. Attaching the mast or any other very heavy
weight to this block it may be lifted in with ease. Put the gaff and
boom in place, and lace the sail on. It will be quite a time before the
sail will stretch to its fullest extent, and it will be necessary to
stretch it along the gaff and boom after every outing for some time to
come or it will not set properly.
A few words here about the care of the sail may not be out of place.
Never roll a sail up when wet. Nothing will rot and mildew it more
quickly. If you are compelled to put the boat up for the night when the
sail is damp, tie a few stops around it at intervals, and allow it to
hang loosely between them, just using a sufficient number to prevent the
sail from thrashing about in case of a strong wind during the night. As
soon as possible after a rain hoist the sail and let it dry. The
quickest way to dry a sail is to hoist it to the full extent along the
mast and drop the peak, and raise the boom quite high with the toppen
lift. This will cause the sail to bag greatly, and the wind shaking it
will soon dry the moisture out.
[Illustration: METHOD OF SCRAPING BOTTOM.]
Your boat has been in the water for some time, and you have entered it
for a race. The first thing to do in this case is to examine its bottom.
This may be effected by selecting a shelving beach, and running your
boat as far up as possible at high water, having previously removed all
extra weights. Secure two guy-ropes to the mast-head, and drive stakes
on each side of the boat about twenty feet off. Fasten the ropes to
these stakes, so when the tide goes out they will hold the boat on an
even keel, and on the receding of the tide it will be an easy matter to
examine the under body of the boat.
If the bottom is so foul as to require repainting, construct ways and
haul out, scraping and painting as in the beginning of the season. If
the bottom should need only a slight cleaning and polishing slacken one
of the guy-ropes so that the boat will rest on its side, and scrub clean
with water and a stiff brush, polishing with cloths. After this side is
finished pull the boat up to an even keel and slack away the other rope
so it will rest on the other side, thus permitting you to get at the
rest of the under-water body. If you are so fortunate as to possess a
racing-sail and spars, unship the old ones and ship the racing-spars and
sail. If you have not, your boat is about ready. Remove all extra
weights (excepting ballast), and if movable ballast is permitted take it
aboard. Examine all your rigging carefully, and do not omit to go over
it again just before starting in the race. All this should be finished
the day before the race.
Ranking almost equal in importance to the condition of the boat is the
training of the crew. The length of time required before the race to get
the crew in condition will, of course, depend upon the knowledge of the
individuals. If the members have a fair idea of their business a few
hours before the race will be sufficient, but if they do not, the sooner
the training commences the better. For a racing crew to be handy, every
man in it must know his especial part in all the manoeuvres, and when
a manoeuvre is ordered must do it quickly and with the least confusion
possible, and not try in an excess of zeal to attempt to do more than
his part, unless so ordered. Above all, every man must obey implicitly
and without question any order of the Captain, for no boat can be
handled properly by its crew when anybody but the Captain is permitted
to give orders. As to the number of the crew, the average cat-boat of,
let us say, eighteen or twenty feet will require a helmsman, usually
Captain, sheet-tender, centreboard-tender, and a man to look after the
halyards. If your boat is so small as not to have so many men allotted
to it, the centreboard and halyards may be tended by one man. If, on the
contrary, more men than the requisite number are allowed, take the extra
men, if the day is windy, as ballast only, or if movable ballast is
permitted, as shifters.
Do not divide the work up into small parcels and give each one a little
to do, it creates too much moving about when under way, a thing not in
the least desirable. You might, however, have an understanding with them
as to what they are to do in an emergency, such as taking in or shaking
out a reef. Here a slight digression on taking in a reef when under way
may be pardoned. When under way drop the sail so that the desired
reef-points are about in a line with the boom, and when they are in the
right position let the boat come up into the wind so that the boom will
be inboard. Then order the crew to spread along the boom, and when the
bow-man has fastened the desired cringle at the jaws of the boom, have
them catch hold of the sail, stretch it along the boom, the sheet-tender
making fast the cringle on the leach (outer edge) to the boom. As soon
as this is accomplished tie the reef in. When all the reef-points are
tied, let the boat's head fall off and continue on course, as the peak
and throat may be properly hoisted, especially when you are strongly
manned, nearly as well under way as when in the wind. This operation, so
long on paper, may, with a well-trained crew, be accomplished almost in
the time it takes to read this. Shaking out a reef is a very easy
matter, and will need no mention. The whole aim in the training of a
racing crew may be summed up as follows: Every man to know his part and
do it when required. The first thing after explaining clearly to each
man his particular station is to get the crew accustomed to the boat. A
good way to do this is to take a spin at every opportunity with them
over the course, making a careful note yourself of the bearings of the
different marks by objects on shore, so that you will not lose valuable
time in the race in finding them. Do not allow any lagging in these
spins, for it is liable to lead to a blunder in the race, but maintain
the same discipline as you would at that time.
[Illustration: A FLYING START.]
The hour of the race is at hand. Your crew is aboard, and after a
careful examination of the running rigging, blocks, mast-hoops, sail and
its lacings, you set out for the starting-point. Arriving there, procure
your racing number, and after fastening it upon the sail, take your boat
out and cruise around in the vicinity of the starting-line, using this
opportunity to practise your crew in tacking, gybing, and other
evolutions likely to be encountered during a race. Upon hearing the
preparatory gun, it is best to get near the line. If you feel confident
that you have your boat well in hand, you might manoeuvre for a flying
start, but if you are a little uncertain, it is best to secure a good
position, and let your sail flap in the wind close as the boat lies
stationary close to the line.
If the first leg is close hauled or a thrash to windward, it is
advantageous to get away as near the front as possible, as the boats
slower in starting usually get off in a bunch and cut up each other's
wind. If the start is off the wind this is not so important. A flying
start is very desirable, but it requires careful calculation and
handling to bring your boat to the line at the right moment; and if by
some mistake you should cross a few seconds before the gun, you would
lose lots of valuable time in recrossing again. In a one-gun start the
importance of getting off quickly is greater than in a two-gun. Bang!
goes the starting gun. You are over the line, close-hauled most likely,
on the starboard tack (on account of having right of way). Do not make
the common mistake of hauling your boom in nearly amidships and jamming
your boat up into the wind; it will not pay. It increases the drift, and
your boat will not "foot" it as fast as one that is allowed a little
more leeway. Again, do not let your boat sag off too far or a heavy gust
may cause a "knockdown," with the consequent loss of much ground. Always
be ready to luff and take advantage of any little gust of wind, and it
is astonishing the amount of windward gain a clever sailor makes in this
way. This does not mean to luff so much at every putt as to dump the
wind out of your sail, or attempt to sail so close to the wind as not to
get its full power.
The amount of sail carried should be proportionate to the wind; it is a
great mistake to oversail a boat so that it wallows through the seas,
necessitating luffing or dumping out the wind in the squalls and
lowering of the peak when running before the wind. The angle of keel at
which your boat sails best can only be determined by experiment, and it
is a great blunder to carry sail so as to heel her to a greater one.
When sailing close hauled or to windward, all obstructions that may
catch the wind should be placed below deck if possible, or if it should
be necessary to have the crew up to windward, let them lay close to the
deck. (See sketch of start.)
As to the distribution of weight, aim to have your boat sail on the
proper water-line at all times: do not allow your crew, when beating to
windward, to pile aft, so as to escape spray, and so lift the bow out,
at the same time do not get your bow too deeply in. When ready to go
about (go on another tack), give the order "hard a lee," and let go the
tiller, the unbalanced action of the wind on the sail will bring the
boat up into the wind with a sweeping curve, and then use the rudder to
put her on the other tack.
In this way you will go about easily, and will not lose headway, as is
the case when the tiller is jammed over at the beginning. Immediately on
hearing the order "hard a lee," the crew should stand ready to shift the
ballast, and as the boat rounds up should change it rapidly, so as to
have it to windward when the sail fills on the other tack. A manoeuvre
of the same character should be executed when luffing around a mark.
Always be sure before going about that you have plenty of board down. We
will suppose that you have luffed around the first mark, and the next
leg is a run with the wind aft of abeam. This will not be particularly
exacting, the only points to keep in mind being to have your water-line
on proper trim, a full sail, and a straight course.
The second mark will have to be gybed around. This is a manoeuvre your
crew cannot be too well drilled in. Give yourself plenty of room, and do
not attempt to shave too closely. I witnessed last summer the capsizing
of a boat resulting from this desire.
The mark was a buoy placed near a heavy stake, and the helmsman of the
boat wishing to make a close shave steered too near it, and in passing
fouled his sheet-rope on the stake before gybing; the result was the
boat became unmanageable, and its momentum carrying it around gybed the
sail over, causing an upset. As you near the mark have the man forward
stand by the peak-halyard, ready to let go if anything happens wrong. As
you are about to turn, have the board raised and come around with an
easy sweep; but not so rapidly that the sheet-tender cannot haul all the
sheet-rope in. The sheet should be brought in with a steady pull, and
allowed to run out evenly. If any amount of slack is given as the sail
goes over, the wind on catching on the other side, if it does not
capsize the boat or carry away something, will bring her head up into
the wind with such force that it will be some seconds before you can
overcome it with the rudder.
[Illustration: FINISHING BEFORE THE WIND.]
[Illustration: PEAK LOWERED TO AVOID "GOOSE-WING"]
The remaining leg of our course we will suppose to be nearly free. When
running this way the board should be kept up, and all the weight in the
boat aft, as a boat under the great pressure exerted by the wind when
running this way has a tendency to dig its nose under. It is not
necessary for your crew to lay down now, and you may allow them to stand
and stretch themselves, as whatever wind they will catch will help the
boat instead of retarding, as in the other cases. (See sketch of
finish.) The only thing to be looked out for when running free, or
nearly so, is a "goose-wing." This happens when the wind is so strong as
to cause the boom to jump up parallel to the mast, and the sail wrap
around it. If when running before the wind you find your boom is jumping
too much, lowering the peak a little will lessen the pressure on the
sail, and stop it.
It is impossible to prophesy the result of the race, but I can say that
it depends equally on your boat and your management, with the training
of the crew a close second.
[Illustration: RIGHTING A CAPSIZED BOAT.]
A few hints on how to right a capsized boat may not be out of place
here. If you should happen to be near some boat that has capsized you
will, doubtless, feel it your duty to assist the unfortunate. It is not
a difficult matter to right a boat when you go about it in the proper
way. Run your boat alongside of the capsized one's mast and strip its
sail off, unfastening the throat and peak blocks, unreeving the
sheet-rope, and cutting the lashings of the sail to the mast-hoops. (Be
careful that the sail does not sink.) Put your boat in a position
alongside the bottom of the upturned boat, and unfasten your
throat-halyard block from the gaff, fasten this to the mast of the
capsized boat, as shown in sketch. It will then be an easy matter to
pull the boat up to an even keel, when she may be pumped out.
We will suppose the autumn to have arrived, and you are ready to put
your boat in winter quarters. After removing ballast, mast, sail, spars,
etc., construct ways as shown in the sketch of winter quarters. They
consist principally of two skids, on which the boat is run and hauled
out, but if you care for the condition of the boat's bottom, a cradle
had better be made following the idea shown in sketch. Pull the boat out
to the end of the skids, and if it is desirable to get it farther away
from the water, lay beams in front of the skids and pull the boat on
them. When free of the skids take them up and lay them in front of the
beams, repeating this operation until the boat is at the distance
desired. After removing everything, cover the deck and cockpit with
canvas. The sail should be sprinkled with salt and a little lime, not
too much or it will cause rotting, the lime being used to bleach the
sail only. This should be rolled up and packed away in a dry place, and
the mast and spars should also be under shelter, but not where there is
too great heat.
We have followed the fortunes of our boat from the beginning of the
season until the end. Unfortunately the limited space of this article
compels the mere mention of some points on which whole volumes could be
written. It is only the purpose of this paper to treat this subject in
the broadest fashion, and to give only general hints for the use of the
beginner in one of the most manly of sports.
DUDLEY D. F. PARKER.
[Illustration: THE PUDDING STICK]
This Department is conducted in the interest of Girls and Young
Women, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on
the subject so far as possible. Correspondents should address
Editor.
I heard a girl spoken of the other day by one of her friends as a
perfect candy fiend. It made me laugh, because I knew the girl in
question, and I had never observed anything fiendish or malevolent about
her. However, it is so much the fashion for girls to use sweeping
expressions, that I am never a bit surprised when I hear "awful,"
"dreadful," "horrible," "terrible," and other strong words of that kind
used without much reference to their exact meaning. I suppose the young
girl described so alarmingly is very fond of candy, for which nobody can
blame her; not I, certainly, especially if it be home-made. But I will
imagine that each of my girls has an allowance, so much given her a week
to spend as she pleases. What proportion of this should she devote
merely to gratifying her taste for sweet things? Do you not think it
rather foolish to spend so much on bonbons, caramels, and creams, that a
girl has nothing left when she wishes to help clothe a poor family whose
house has been burned over their heads, to buy a pretty framed
photograph for her room, or to make a Christmas present for her mother
or dear friend?
It is quite time, by-the-way, for us to begin the consideration of our
Christmas presents in these bright days of late summer. By giving a
little thought and time to the matter, paying attention to small wishes
and wants which are spoken of in the family, we can often give our
friends and ourselves much more pleasure than can be done when
everything is left to the hurry of the last few weeks of the year. I
heard a lady say the other evening, "I have at least six girl friends
who knit beautifully, and I do wish one of them would make me a
fascinator." "And pray what may a fascinator be?" said I. And I learned
that it was simply a beautiful fleecy thing to wear upon the head in the
evening. It used to be called a "cloud" when I was a girl; and in my
girlish days I always kept one on hand to use up odd moments. It is
pretty, dainty work. Bedroom slippers, crocheted and made up over
lamb's-wool soles, are welcome gifts to receive, and not hard to make.
May I add that a present is much more likely to give satisfaction to the
recipient if it is beautifully wrapped up in tissue-paper and tied with
dainty ribbon? I never derived more pleasure in my life than from a book
which came to me one white cold Christmas eve. The book was daintily
wrapped in white tissue-paper and tied with a white ribbon, which
fastened on the cover of it one dewy, long-stemmed rose. A candle and
candle-stick is a graceful and useful present. You know that one should
always have a bedroom candle at night. It is a comfort to have it
standing on a little table near the bed with a supply of matches. One
never need then be in the dark a moment if a light happen to be
necessary. I saw a very quaint and charming candle-stick the other day.
It was in the shape of a monk with a cowl and robe, and he was patiently
holding up a long crimson candle. Candles may be had in many colors,
some of them very ornamental, and candle-sticks come in china, silver,
and bronze, and sometimes very pretty ones in tin, though I do not
recommend you to give a tin candle-stick as a present if you can afford
one in another material.
Presents of one's own work are always very much appreciated, and there
are many beautiful things in linen, such as doilies, centre-pieces, and
the like, which are welcome additions to your mother's table, so that
you cannot go wrong in choosing something in linen to embroider for her.
A set of towels with a monogram in the corner makes a very tasteful
gift, and I can imagine nothing lovelier than for a family of girls, or
a class, to embroider a bed-spread for a mother or teacher. This, of
course, would be a large undertaking, and should be begun many months
before the time it is wanted, and you would have great fun in keeping
the affair a secret. I saw a very beautiful bed-spread some weeks ago at
a house where I was a guest. The lady who is making it has been engaged
on it for years, and it is very elaborate--cream-colored linen of the
finest texture, covered all over with beautiful vines and flowers. She
has worked always from the flowers themselves, copying them faithfully
in shape and tint.
When you are writing to me it would be very pleasant to have you tell me
of beautiful Christmas gifts you intend to make. A girl in Maine might
have a suggestion which would be acted upon by a girl in Nebraska. I
will be extremely pleased to be the medium through which girls both
North and South may give each other happy thoughts and charming
suggestions about presents which are to be made for the next Christmas
holidays. May I quote a bit from your letter, dear Tillie T.? It may
give some of the girls an idea on which they may like to act. Tillie
says: "With the help of two of my friends I am making a hospital box.
Can you tell me some children's hospital to send it to? And is it a very
childish thing to do? For we really enjoy making the things, as well as
thinking of the pleasure they will give the children later. We have made
cambric scrap-leaves, paper dolls with dresses of tissue-paper, a
menagerie and circus of paper animals, and over sixty colored paper
dolls--the sort which have dresses to come off."
Perhaps somebody can suggest an addition to Tillie's already generous
list. St. Mary's Free Hospital for Children, West Thirty-fourth Street,
New York city, will be very glad to receive any gifts which our readers
would like to send to it.
[Illustration: Signature]
* * * * *
The poor patient mules that drag the train-cars far down in the mines
rarely enjoy the light of day. Sometimes intervals of years pass before
they are brought to the surface, and far below in the dense darkness of
the mines they toil from month to month, seeing no light other than that
of the miners' flickering lamps.
Recently some mules that had for a number of years hauled the trains in
the lower tunnel of a coal-mine were brought to the surface. The strong
light of the sun dazzled them, and every one kept his eyes closed
tightly, and when they were released in a pasture a little distance away
they halted trembling and astonished, even fearing some harm. For a long
time they remained so, occasionally opening their eyes half-way, and
finally, towards sundown, they broke into joyous brays. Afterward they
ran around, jumped, kicked, and rolled on the grass as if mad. The
delight of freedom, the sun, and the pure air were more to them than the
food they refused to eat when it was put before them.
ON BOARD THE ARK.
BY ALBERT LEE.