New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1885-01-28
On Pine Island, Florida.

We made a trip to Pine Island, which
lies wedge-like parallel with the outer
key. Here we found the cocoa-nut and
lemon-trees, the branches laden down
with magnificent fruit. Here we came
across certain diminutive Robinson
Crusoes which excited our sympathies.
On this island, with sad-looking and
dilapidated father, lived four children.
You approached the place through
shadows barely navigable with light
draught boat at high tide. A ram
shackle structure on rotten piles was
the landing. This settlement was twen-
ty miles from anywhere. The house,
the size of small stable, looked as if
built years before, and was open to all
the winds of heaven. AS the winds,
however, are never cold here, that per-
haps was not important, but from April,
as the very foodgates of heaven are
open, that family must have been
drowned out for months. Some time
before, SO we learned, while the father
was absent, the mother died, and these
poor BARNS with their own hands dug
grave and buried their mother How
that family managed to exc out an ex-
lsteace God only knows. Shells of the
gopher, the land tortoise, were strewn
around, suggestive of miserable food.
Fish, though, might have been plenty.
Two grim dogs, lean and lank, slank
around the house. The master of these
surroundings told US the dogs were on
~ in good condition when all gators
were plentiful. The house contained
scarcely anything. There was grimy
table, and few boxes serving as
chairs. We saw not cup or saucer;
there were no beds. A tame crane,
that did not seem to heed our presence,
Topped around. That bird was a con-
vincing proof that those little girls had
bestowed their love on something, and
this was their pet.
Fancy lad of twelve having for a
toy squirming alligator some three
feet long! Not very lovable compan-
ion, nor one to be on intimate terms
with. But it was the only thing the
boy could find. Evidently it was some
thing not to be fooled with, for the ga
tors jaws were bound with a bit of
rag. At our request this ligature was
loosed, when this ugly brute at once
made for the boot OF one of the party,
and fastened his teeth in it, and would
not let 90 until his mouth was force
open. The children would read H.
tie, and, strange to say, the Vicar of
Wakefield had been their horn-bo TX.
It was the only bound volume the fifth
er possessed. There were, though, as
additions to the library, few ta7tered
numbers of children's magazines of
years long gone past. There was a
slate, and at once the artistic young
fellow stacked his gun, dropped his
Abruzzi manner, and drew for the child
rem pretty and funny pictures, until
that poor miserable house echoed again
with laughter and cries of delight. i he
lad, instead Of marbles, played with the
ugly fangs of the gator, and was him
self tho slayer of saurlans. TO Judge
from miserable fire-arm we saw, be-
longing to the father, l should think
the risk the boy ran was greater than
that of the alligator. Then the m s.
anthropist of the party, who often wond-
cred why people ever wrote books or
magazine stories, and was always
amazed why people read them, made
up his mind that the library on Pine
Island should be increased, and if the
mail facilities have not quite gone
wrong, it is supposable that before this
these children have supply of juvenile
literature sufficient to last them for
some time to come.-Barmet Phillips,
IN Harper's Magazine for January.