The enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 188?-1899, 1893-10-04
logically, the manner in which I occu-


pied myself from dawn to sunset.
"6 a. m.-Wake and see that Tim has
already disappeared and folded up his
hammock. Observe the morning sun
looking In with a fresh, CHEEKY coun-
tenance at the window. Turn over
again with a yawn, and go to sleep for
another five minutes.
"7:15 q. m.-Wake again, and dis
cover, 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 1t
from the rays of the morning sun.
Stroll down to the lake and, throwing
off what garments I wear, prepare for
bath. Cannot get out for swim on
account of the reeds. The bath over,
return and finish my toilet In the cara
van.
"s a. m.-Tim has reappeared. He
has been right down to the seashore,
walk of about two miles and half.
He informs me to my disgust that
there is some sort Of human settle-
ment there, and life-bost station.
He has brought back In his baglet, as
specimens of the local products, doz-
en- newlaid eggs, some milk and loaf
Of bread. The last, observe, is In
fossil state. I ask who sold 1t him.
He answers, William Jones.
$3.50 n. m.-We breakfast splendid
ly. Even the fossil loaf yields susten-
ance, after 1t is cut up and dissolved
In hot tea. Between whiles Tim In
forms me that the settlement down
yonder is, in his opinion, poor sort Of
place. There are several whitewashed
cottages and a large, roofess house,
for all the world like church. Devil
the COW or pig did he see at all, barrin'
few hens Any boats, I askp Yes,
one, with the bottom knocked out, be-
longing to William Jones.
"Tim has got this name 30 pat that
.y curiosity begins to be aroused.
who the deuce is William Jones|
Sure, thin says Tim, he's the man
that lives down beyant, by the sea- I
demand, somewhat irritably, II the
place contains only one inhabitant?
Devil another did Tim see, he explains
-barrin' William Jones.
1870 a. m.-Start painting in the
open air, under the shade of large
white cotton umbrella. Paint on till
p. m.
81 p. intake a long walk among
the sand hills, avoiding the settlement
beyond the lake. Don't want to meet
any of the aboriginals, more particu-
larly William Jones. Walking here Is
like running up and down Atlantic bill
lows, assuming said pillows to be solid;
now am lost In the trough Of the
sand, now I re-emerge on the crest OF
the solid wave. Amusing, but fatiguing.
Suddenly hare starts from under my
feet and goes leisurely away. re-
member 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
the hollows, now more family marked
on the harder sides of the ridgea Tho
sun blazes down, the refraotion Of the
heat from the sand is overpowering,
the air Is quivering, sparkling and
pulsating, as II full Of innumerable
sand crystals. A horrible 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 have
been toiling in the sandy wilderness
for quite two hours. Time TO get back
and dine. Climb tho nearest hillock,
and look round to discover where lam.
Can see nothing but the sandy pillows
on every side, and am entirely at a loss
which way TO 60. At last, after half
IN hours blind wandering, stumble by
accident on the road by the lakeside
and see the caravan in the distance.
"4p. m.-Dinner. Boiled potatoes,
boiled eggs, fried bacon. Tins cook
ing is primitive, but I could devour
anything-even William Jones fossil
bread. asked II any human being
has visited the camp. 'Sorra one, Tim
says, looking rather disappointed. Ho
has got TO feel himself public char
acter, and misses the homage Of the
vulgar.
"Paint again till six p. IN.
"a beautiful sunset. The sand hills
grow rosy in the light, the lake deep
ems from crimson TO purple, the moon
comes out like silver sickle over the
sandy sea. A thought seizes me as tho
shadows increase. Now Is the time
TO entice the pink TROUT from their
depths In the lake. get out my fish
ing rod and line, and, stretching two
or three flies which seem suitable, pre-
pare for action. My rod 10 only q
small, single-handed ono, and is difficult
10 cast beyond the sedges, but the fish
are rising thiclsly out In the tranquil
pools, and, determined not 10 be beat
en-, wade In 10 the knees. Half o
dozen trout, each about the sizo Of n
small herring, reward my enterprise.
When have captured them, the moon
Is high up above the sand-hills, and II
Is quite dark.
dsuch is the chronicle Of the post
day. BY the light Of my lamp inside
the caravan have written II down.
1t has been all very tranquil and nm
eventful, but very delightful, and a
day TO be marked with white stone,
In one respsct-that from dawn TO sum
set have not set eyes on human be-
ing, except my servant
"stop, thought ! am wrong. Just as