Tombstone epitaph., 1891-01-04

and heiu ,n. Tne atoIm was aow tn describahly fierce and the sea tervific. .As the vessel slowly recovered herself he loosened his cold and crawled toward the bowsprit ,. reached it, got astride O; it, lotfe.i ais crms around it, drew long breath, and then, with rush, the Tim mons burlea her head and Joe disappeared in the seetSiL. xx:~rs.
 The crew heid their breath in an agony of suspense, while their eyes strained to- ward the boiling foam which engulfed him. In moment the stanch craft, as if conscious of the heroic effort for her relief and stimulated by it to renewed exertion, bounded forward and upward through the dashing waters. And on the bowsprit, which was pointing skyward, the crew saw Joe strengthening himself Into a sitting position, his knife still held between his clenched teeth, and preparing to crawl still further out. Again and again this scene was enacted, each plunge and rise finding the hero nearer to the object at which he aimed, while the crew fairly ached with the intensity of their emotions.
 He reached it at last, and, watching the most favorable opportunity, released his NiSuu ttIHi, oudUCucu CHC hHllc hOll HIS teeth, and with swift and powerful stroke cut the jibstay through as the trembling vessel started down another sea, restored the knife to it's place, again clasped the bowsprit in his arms, and again disappeared-but only for mo- ment, for the Timmons, now relieved of the weight which held her down, sprang out of the threatening gulf as if with new life inspired It was 8 great relief, but the tempest was still at it's height, and now both Joe and the crew realized that the most hazardous part of this heroic en- terprise was still before him, namely, getting back to the deck again. It was not like coming down from aloft. He had to repeat the desperate performance back ward.
 Slowly, and still astride of the 5owsprit, and still alternately plunged into the sea and lifted high in air, he began the fear full task. Every instant was @ crisis, every moment threatened to be his last; but slowly and steadily he approached the deck. Finally he reached it, slid along the foremast, clasped it as before, and at last, crawling, laid himself down ex. hausted amid his awe struck companions
 The storm still howled, the sea was still awful and night was coming on-another night of horrors-but the Timmons car. ried her head free and a feeling akin t0 confidence was beginning to take the place of despair in the breasts of the crew. They passed into the gloom of the starless night upon that wild waste of waters, clinging to the hope that with the coming of another day the storm would pass And their hope was not in vain. Gradually the violence of the wind abated-althougk the sea still leaped frantically-and by the next morning had ceased to be alarming. They looked eagerly for the land, gave more sail, and in few hours recognized points which assured them that they were off Georgetown, s. O.. With grateful hearts they steered for the bar and entered the bay in safety, with no other damage to the Timmons than the loss of her boats, sails and rigging, fore mast rubbed almost in two and some strained timbers.
 Joe Arnold still lives and pursues his calling, and he wilt be greatly astonshed if he ever sees this account of his heroism, for he is modest and does not think he did anything worth talking about. The Tim mons, too, is still afloat, and as smart a pilot boat as ever crossed Cape Fear bar or cruised off Frying Pan shoals.-C. M. Waddell in New York World.