Evening capital. (Annapolis, Md.) 1884-1910, 1885-05-04
IN A NUTSHELL.


back propped up against Virginia's
fragrant pines-sits there sluggishIy con-
tent to feed on the memory of her
colonial days, and watch the big, mo-
tionless ships that lay in the harbor like
wooden allegories of sleep. 1t is because
the narbor is so grandly wide and deep
that the Allegory is not Death, instead.
Poor Cairo.
It is such very ancient little town
that the quaint, steep houses, with their
tiny panes and hooded roofs, own Revolu-
tionary heroes for family ghosts, and
the narrow strips of streets that wind by
them are tufted with grass, and shiny
with mold, and alive with little round,
black, crawling things that creep up
from the river and fatten on decay.
Over its inhabitants there has settled
a mildew of aristocracy, and the very air
is musty with the odor of worm-eaten
genealogical trees and glories long since
dead-at least, that was the opinion of
John Shaw, Esq. which opinion he
never in the least scrupled to express.
Everybody said John Shaw was q
common man--his low blood famed in
his face like red flag of defiance-and
everybody knew he was mean. Mean !!
he was quite as close as his iron safe. and
twice as cold and hard, and Cairo had
taken particular notice that. though he
owned the best half of the struggling
business-street that sloped down to the
big wharf, and even that choked up
year in and year out with shipping of all
sorts. from dusky coal barges to foreign
elo0nc NOT nanny IF HE ,,onrax1 o.,o~
found its way to the empty pocket of a
friend, or the want pinched fingers of
the poor-not one
Though his wealth made him in one
sense the master of Cairo. his humble
birth stood like a moral wall of China
between him and his neighbors. Society
bowed at him, but never invited him to
call. He had long since recovered from
the slight, however, if, indeed, he had
ever felt it-some people don't and
seemed quite as contented in his own ag-
gressive way as the next, and he was
aggressive to such self-assertive extent
that, though he overlooked with anecdote
and information Of all sorts, no man
could be found good. natured enough to
talk to him half an hour without owning
him down.
When young he had been supercargo
on merchant ship that traded with
Brazil and the Madeiras, and afterward
mate on vessel bound for Lisbon, where
he left his crew and spent year touring
through Portugal and Spain. Upon his
return an uncle died, leaving him q
fortune in English money, which he
invested, along with his own savings, in
the little town that had seen him in his
poverty, where he lived, and kept on living
until Time developed him into a gusty
old tyrant, with nothing to do but col
lect his rents, and busy himself religious
" over other peoples affairs because he
had none of his own.
Mr.. John Shaw and the sun generally
arose together; but one particular May
morning he slept unusually late. His
windows, curtainless and opening to the
east, were a blaze of yellow sunlight,
and little brown bunting bird began
whistling gayly IN the bushes. It was
CHEEKY beginning for a mans birthday,
and he believed in omens with all his
soul
He decidedly felt the spring that
morning Little rills of youth trickled
around his heart, and Pickering CLEANS
of vanity played across his mouth, as he
went down the steep, crazy steps of his
shabby old house, and made straight for
his wharf, where q daily pleasure
awaited him-a quarrel with his dearest
foe. This foe meant quondam sea cap
tain-sea pirate. little Cairo called him,
lakzt.S r.
John Shaw were Numerically opposed
to each other on principle, there was
material for endless squabbles. which
neither could have been paid to
shun. They took their daily morning
chickering's as zealously as some good
people take their daily morning glasses.
and some very much better people take
to their daily morning prayers.
$ Good-morning, began Mr.. Shaw.
breezily. "a fine dayl'
Fine dayro snapped the captain.
testify; it's chilly, sir; raw, sir, and
yheumatic!"
i Is my birthday, y went on the old
gentleman, when the quarrel over the
weather had disagreeablv lulled. ssYou
wouldn't take me for seventy four. would
youF slappiug his broad chest and scan
ming himself with pride. Yes, sir,
seventy four, and good for twenty years
longerl"
s'Alebbe 20, reluctantly assenfed the
enemy; but when man uets that far
along. It's time g think ~ the end. =
Tut, tut Why should we think Of
the time till il comes not disturbing
yourself On that aclaonn ehln