The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1885-04-04

mock. Observe the morning s4n iooAlng IL
with a fresh, CHEEKY countenance at the WITH
dow. Turn over again with yawn, and 60
to sleep for another five minutes.
"7:15 A. M.-Wake again, and discover, by
looking at my watch, that, instead Of five
minutes, have slept an hour and quarter.
Spring up at once, and slip on shirt and
trousers; then pass out, barefooted, into the
open air. No sign Of Tim, but fire is
lighted close to the caravan, which shadows
it from the rays Of the morning sun. Stroll
down to the lake, and throwing Off what
garments l wear, prepare for bath. Can
not get out for swim on account OF the
reeds. The bath over, return and finish my
toilet in the caravan.
"SA Min has reappeared. He has been
right down to the seashore, q walk OF about
two miles and a half. He informs me, to my
disgust, that there is some sort OF human
settlement there, and q lifeboat station. He
has brought back in his baglet, as specimens
Of tho local products, dozen new-lad eggs,
some milk, and loaf Of bread. The last,
observe, is in fossil state. l ask who sold
it him. He answers, William Jones'
$3.50 A. M-We breakfast splendidly Even
the fossil loaf yields sustenace, after it is cut
UP and dissolved in hot tea. Between whites
Tim informs me that the settlement down
yonder is, in his opinion, poor sort OF q
place. There are several whitewashed cot
tages and u large, rooness house, for all the
world like a church. Devil the cow or pig
did he see at all, barrin' few hens. Any
boats, ] ask. Yes, one, with the bottom
knocked out, belonging to William Jones.
haLy HI CO vnaf Init
curiosity begins to be aroused. who the
deuce is William JonesP Sure, thin says
Tim, he's the man that lives down beyant, by
the sea- / demand, somewhat irritably, If
the place contains only one inhabitants Devil
another did Tim see, he explains-barrin'
William Jones.
$3.50 A.M.-Start painting in the open dir,
under the shade of a large white cotton UNI
brella. Paint on till ] Pm.
81 P. M.-Take u long walk among the
sandhills, avoiding the settlement beyond
the lake. Don't want to meet any Of the
aboriginals, more particularly William Jones.
Walking here is like running up and down
Atlantic pillows, assuming said pillows to be
solid; now | am lost in the trough Of tho
sand, now / re-emerge On the crest Of tho
solid wave. Amusing, but fatiguing 1soon
lose myself, every hillock being exactly like
another. Suddenly hare starts from under
my feet and goes leisurely away. Iremem-
Der an old amusement Of mine in the west of
Ireland, and | track Puss by her footprints
now clearly and beautifully printed in the
soft sand Of tho hollows, now moro family
marked on tho harder sides of the ridges.
The sun blazes down, the refraction Of the
heat from the sand is overpowering, the air
is quivering, sparkling and pulsating, as il
full of innumerable sand crystals. horri-
BILE croak from overhead startles me, and
looking up see an enormous raven wheeling
along in circles and searching the ground for
mice or other prey.
.Looking at my watch, find that have
been toiling in this sandy wilderness forquite
two hours. Time to get back and dine.
Climb the nearest hillock, and look round to
discover where 1 am. Can see nothing but
the sandy pillows on every side, and am
entirely at loss which way to go. At last,
after half an hours blind wandering, STUN
BILE, by accident, on the road by the lake side,
and see the caravan in the distance.
"4PM DINNER. Boiled potatoes, boiled
eggs, fried bacon. Tins cooking is prim-
tive, but could devour anything-even
William Jones' fossil bread l asked if any
human being has visited the camp. 'Sorra
one Tim says, looking rather disappointed.
He has got to feel himself public character,
and misses the homage of the vulgar.
paint again till p NJ.
"a beautiful sunset. The sandhills grow
rosy in the light, the luke deepens from Grim
son to purple, the moon comes out like silver
sickle over the sandy sea. A thought seizes
me as the shadows increase. Now is the time
to entice the pink trout from their depths in
the lake. l get out my fishing rod and line
and, stretching two or three flies which seem
suitable, prepare for action. My rod is only
q small, single-handed one, and it is difficult
to cast beyon the sedges, but the fish are ris-
ing thickly out in the tranquil pools, and, de-
termined not to be beaten, wade in to the
knees. Half dozen trout, each about the
size of small herring, reward my enterprise
When have captured them, the moon is high
UP above the sand hills, and it is quite dark.
"Such is the chronicle Of the past day. By
the light Of my lamp inside the caravan l
have written it down. 1t has been all very
tranquil and uneventful, but very delightful,
and a day to be marked with n white stone,
in one respect-that from dawn to sunset l
have not set eyes on human being except
my servant.
''Stop, thought 1 am wrong. Just as I
was returning from my piscatorial excursion
to the lake, saw, passing along the road in
the direction of the sea, n certain solitary
horseman, who accosted me not too civilly
on the road side the night before last. He
scowled at me in passing, and of course, rec
ogni2ed me by tho aid of the caravan. His
name is Monk, of Monkshurst, and he seems
to be pretty well monarch Of all he surveys
/ have an impression that Mr.. Monk, OF
Monkshurst, and myself are destined to be
better, or worse, acquainted"
ITO be Continual