The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1880-10-06

The ship steadied as if the wind had
ceased. There was no sound greater
than the storm; but, instead, there
seemed to fall suddenly stiffness. /
ran amidships and grasped for the line
in the dark. 1t was gonel A rush to the
rail, and all was clear. The strain had
torn out the brace. The mighty pull of
the whale astern had jerked the line
straight, ike the cord of a gigantic bow,
and the captain, who had been standing
on the rail, was struck by the flying
rope and thrown senseless far into the
sea.
All this had been seen by the men in
the boat before any one on board had
realized the affair. In less than minute
the cry of "Saved ~ reached us from Mr..
Joseph, and, in a shorter time than can
be imagined by landsman, the boat
was hanging from the davits, and the
injured commander was being cared for
in his cabin.
Rum and hard rubbing are the potent
remedies on a whaler, and by dint OF
| these the captain opened his eyes in a
quarter of an hour. He had been
stunned, but not seriously injured.
He was amazed at first at seeing the
mate and myself standing over him with
the rum bottle. But without word
he realized the situation.
Chow is the weather." he asked.
"The wind has gone down." said Mr..
Joseph. "We're under foresail jib and
reefed topsails, and running right away
from the whale"
"Gonep" said the old man.
"Gone!" answered Mr.. Joseph, rue
fully. Stanchion dragged, and the
line parted, and $4,000 went without an
owner"
"Tell Chips to see to that broken rail, {"
said the captain, closing his eyes drows-
cay, ay, STRIP said the old second
mate, us he stamped on deck.
heard him stop at the after hatch,
where the boat-steerers and the carpen-
| ter lived, and call "Chipsp two or
three times. At last there was an an
swer in another voice-not Chips; then
round of hurried feet on deck, a shout
down the forecastle, and shout back
in answer. There was no Chips there.
Two minutes after a heavy foot came
aft to the cabin stairs, and MIR. Joseph,
with white face entered.
knew what he had to tell. kne W
now-just as if had seen it all-who
the tall man was whom had seen lean
ing against the line.
The captain looked a. the second
mate.
"Chips is gone, SIR" said the old
sailor, with tremor in his rough voice
"Chips was knocked over by the line
and we've gone four knots since il
parted. I've put her about, and we're
running down again"
There was dead silence. We al
knew the search was hopeless. No mar
could swim in such a sea, and we had q
thought, though no one spoke it, tina
brave Chips had been killed by the line
before he touched the water.
All night we beat about the place
where we thought it had occurred. The
wind and sea fell, and the moon came
out in great beauty to help our sad
search. Every man on board stayed
on deck till the sun rose, and then We
looked far and Vainly over the heed
less swell of the sea.
Chips was dead. The rough Portu.
guese lads found it hard 10 believe that
the kind heart and strong hand of theiI
friend had gone forever. We all knew
that the best man in the ship was taker
away.
Two years afterward, when 1 founC
myself in Boston, took from my sacred
things Il letter which l had found IL
Chips chest. 1t was addressed to /
woman, with the name and number OF s
Cambridge street. found the place.
small frame house, with lots of Chips
handiwork around it. His mother me
me at the door, a white-haired woman
She seemed to have been waiting anC
watching for somebody. A few word
told the hopeless story. The letter wa
for her, and she read it over-the lette
of her only boy, asking forgiveness TO
his one great and only disobedience-
and as she read, the white head ben
lower and lower, till it met the thil
hands; and 1 turned and left the littl
room 1 had darkened, with all its poo
ornaments, useless now, and, as walke'
toward Boston, could not help think
lag that Gods ways are often wofull
tar from being our ways.
JOHN BOYLE O'REHLY.