The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1881-12-31
good an appearance of happy innocence
Gs could be desired.

/ IL SotIlHS uaTh very QUICKLY, not
four o'clock yet. [ guess it's going to
be a pretty big fall this time, and
whew Stub, hear the wind; sounds
squally, don't it?"
Stub looked with an air of gravity
! through the window, and seemed to be
of the opinion that ii certainly did ap-
1 pear threatening
"What keeps father so late, wonder :?
Ii it keeps ON getting dark as fast as
this the light will have to be fixed pretty
/ soOn."
! Thick and fast fell the snow-hakes.
hurrying and scurrying down, as if in
! haste to see which could first reach the
earth. Every now and then violent
! gust of wind would come that romped
and rioted among the dry leaves that
still chung to some of the trees, and
near at hand the waves surged and
dashed and tossed themselves on the
shore and against the rocks.
know the lamp ought to be lit.
I'd better go right away and do it, said
Jack, addressing his companions. AS
they raised no objection, Jack started,
materials in hand, and they followed
to see, no doubt, that everything was
done fairly and squarely. Up the stairs
went the trio, Stub ahead shutting and
peering into al the dark corners; Jack,
with the lamp and oil in his hand, fol-
lowing warily, and Jane, with dignity
suitable for lady of her years, bringing
up the rear. Jack knew how to set to
work. He watched his father daily, and
had sometimes been aliowedt to help him;
SO, IN very short time, friendly glow
OF hight poured through the windows of
the little tower, and laid bare the deep,
treacherous rocks with blunt distinct
ness, while they strove vainly to hide
beneath the stormy waves.
I" suppose we might as well get sup
per ready now, against father comes, !"
and Jack laid the cloth neatly and cut
the bread with will. Like few rare
and isolated boys of his age, being hun
cry was Jacks normal condition, re-
Geved at occasional intervals by being
satisfied. Supper was waiting-father's
tea was boiling and bubbling on the
| stove (Jack's limited knowledge of cook
ing had not taught him that tea should
never be allowed to boiD jack basin
of broken bread in readiness for the
scalding milk, some dried beef as a
special treat, and plenty of good bread,
cheese and butter besides. Inside all
was warm and cozy, CHEEKY and home
like; outside, stormy and clustering
Two hours passed, and still no father.
Jack had made a tremendous effort to
delay eating till he arrived; but bit by
bit the broken bread had disappeared,
followed by other selections from the
bill of fare, while Jane Tapped saucer
OF milk, and the quondam Friday, for
getting his cannibalistic tendencies,
made hearty repast on dried beef and
pieces of Jacks bread and butter.
Seven o'clock, and father not home
yet Well, the light will burn an hour
yet without fixing. Father said it would
burn longer than that, but it's safest to
look at it every four hours, and he's sure
to be here before it needs looking to-
So Jack got his favorite book from the
shelf, and settled down for cozy read in
fathers arm chair close near the stove.
1t was certainly was very exciting
where Crlsoe and Friday discover the
arrival of the one and twenty savages.
and disturb them at their revolving re-
past. But Jack got up so early morn
lngs, and was SO active during the day,
that no wonder his ideas began to stray
and his eyes to blink and close. Stub
had settled himself near for little quiet
meditation-nose between two black.
outstretched forepaws, and gaze fixed on
nothing IN particular, while Jane, hay
ing first made her toilet for the night by
careful washing and patting, dozed
peacefully behind the stove. Tired Jack
slept, and dreamed he was Crusoe, and
had just built beautiful sled, and he
and Friday coasted down among the
cannibals and sent them flying on all
sides; and the old clock licked and tick
ed, while out doors the snow blew in
swirls, and a weary man fought hard
against the wind, and sought to find
again the beaten track to his house.
Hour after hour passed, till the faithful
hammer, striking ten, woke Jack in be-
wilderment at not finding himself in his
own little bed.
What's the matter?" he said, shak-
ing himself and standing up. "Why,
now late it is What can have happen
ed to father ?"
Stub reused up, but could not answer
the question, so wisely kept silent-peo-
pie don't generally, you know.
"The light the light Oh suppose
it's gone out? [ must go up this very
minute to see, though it's awfully dark,
| and the stoves gone out to; but [ can t
stop to make it up now. Come, Stub,
you can go with me, if you want to, "
and diplomatic Jack, who really didn't
like to go through all those dark pas
| sages and stairways alone, but who
wouldn't have Stub know it for the
| world.
The house had got all cold, and Jack
was hunting long about with shiveriug
fingers before he could find the proper
/ oil for the light At last, however, he
found it, spilled lot of it in pouring it
out into the small can, and got the rest
safely up the first flight of stairs, Stub
following rather sleepily. The light
| tower was built high above the dwelling
part of the house, and was reached by
/ several steep flights of stairs, and finally
/ by a ladder to a trap door, The roof
| and walls from about four feet from the
| floor were glass, and the light, lamp ami
reflector stood on a kind of standard
about five feet high. All the beautiful
brass plates were kept as brilliant as a
| mirror. and the windows were transpar-
ent and speckless as pure water. It was
John Hudson's duty to keep them in
this condition. Inspectors were always
! dropping in at unexpected times, and
dismissal from the post would have fol-
lowed any lack of proper attention to
/ these details. But it was the lighthouse
/ keepers pride to keep them bright and
1 FURNISHED, even beyond any laws and
regulations.
Jack reached the foot of the ladder.
and was slowly mounting, when his foot
/ slipped and he fell. Stub looked at him
helplessly, and waited for him to pick
! himself up. Jack had kept hold of bis