The Forrest City times., 1894-08-03

Those fogs, monsieur. You have no idea how deceitful they are. But also have an idea that the Semillante must have lost her helm in the morn ing, for the captain, even in heavy fog, could hardly have made such mistake. He was well-tried mariner. We all knew him. He had commanded the Corsican station for three years, and knew the coast as we'll as I, who know nothing else"
 ''At what time do they think that the Sem:llante perished?
 ''It must have been at noon-yes, monsieur, fully noon, but, forsooth, with that fog, that noon was worth no more than night as black as the jaws of a wolf. A life-saver of the coast told me that the same day toward half past eleven. having gone ont of his cabin to fasten his shutters. the wind whirled away his cap, and at the risk of being carried off himself by the blast he commenced to crawl along the beach on all fours after it. You see the douaniers aren't rich, and a cap costs. We'll, it seems that our man, lifting his head, saw right near him, through the fog great ship scudding along under bare poles .o- ward the Lavezzi islands.
 This ship went very fast, so fast that he had hardly time for a good look. Everything points to the belief that it was the Semillante, because a half hour later the shepherds of the islands heard-why, here comes the shepherd himself, he will tell you. Bonjour, Palombo. Come, warm thy self. Have no fear
 A muffied man, whom l had seen for some minutes prowling around our fire, and whom 1 had taken for one of the crew, because I did not know that there was a shepherd on the island, approached us timidly. He was an old leper, three-quarters of an idiot and prey to know not what other scorbutic evil, which made his lips horrible to behold, so swollen were they They explained to him at length what we were talking about; then lifting his dreadful lips with his finger. the old man said that on the day in question, about noon, he heard from his hut fright full crash on the rocks, but as the island was covered with water he could not get out to see. It was not until the next morning that on open ing his door he had seen the beach GOV cred with driftwood and corpses, left there by the waves. Insane with fear he had fled to his boat to go to Boni- facio for help.
 Tired with having said so much, the shepherd sat down and the captain went on with his story:
 'sYes, monsieur. it was this poor old fellow who came to warn us He was crazy with fright, and ever since his brain has been off the track. To tell the truth, there was cause enough for it. Imagine six hundred corpses in heaps ol the sand, mixed with great timbers and strips of sail. Poor Sem illante! The sea had crushed her into crumbs with one blow. Palombo with difficulty got enough wood to build a fence around his hut. As for the men, nearly all of them were horribly dis figured and mutilated. It was pitiful to see them clinging together in punches. We found the captain in gala uniform; the chaplain with his stole In corner. between two rocks, there was little cabin boy, with his eyes open. One might have thought him alive; but no, it had been decreed that not one should escape" Here he stopped.
 Careful Nardi," said he, "the fire is going out"
 Nardi threw two or three tarred logs on the embers, which quickly blazed again.
 Lionetti continued: ''The saddest part of the story is yet to come. Three weeks before the disaster little cut ter. which was going to the Crimea like the Semillante, was wrecked in the same way, nearly in the same place, only this time we managed to save the crew and twenty soldiers who were or board. We took them to Boni- facio, and kept them there at the sta ton with us for two days Once thoroughly dry and on foot again, 1t was good-by, good luck. They re- turned to Toulon, from which port they embarked again several days later for the Crimea And imagine on what ship. On the Semillante. We found them all-twenty. lying among the dead just where we are now. lpicked up myself handsome brigadier, with a long mustache. a strapling from Paris, whom had taken to my own house, and who made us laugh all the time with his stories. To see hin there crushed me. Oh. Holy Mother"
 Thereupon the good Lionetti, much moved, shook the cinders from his