Waterbury evening Democrat., 1894-01-15

8 stomach as Ii l were playing clansmen into the heart of their enemies.
 Nor was the strutting always enough, for, obvious of physical weakness, often caught myself skipping about in the mazes of country dance, or leaping in the high land fling, or prancing in the delirium of che sword dance, the fingers unconsciously going on the chanter. It would be hard to tell how many times l went over Reel Thulachan," and the Reel of Tullock, ,"and "Ghillie Challum," and the High Road to Linton,' and 1.-The Auld Wife Ayont the Fire" and Dainty Davie," and ''The Mar quis of Huntley's Farewell" and Sleepy Maggy," and such like tunes, trying not liways successfully to keep time between he dancer and the piper.
 The exercise usually continued till had o give up from want of breath and did me ncre good than all the physic doctors could nave poured into me. And indeed to this lay nothing heartens me like the drone of he pipes humming in my ear, though l ear this will be reckoned rude taste by ;he refined young gentlemen who know so | much about the pianos, which are things If mystery to me. Yet old Duncan often declared had notions of music and could make the pipes utter emotion and senti- nent in a way that sometimes stirred him, though he owned I was no hand at the xarblers. The true piper will stake his fife on his warblers or grace notes Any body can play a common tune by sticking simply to the air, but man must be born piper to introduce variations with skill. It | s in the management of these that art lies. | But since there was none on the brig to ,riticise my deficiencies did not in the least spoil the pleasure in my own music. There was but one drawback to the performances, that my companions fairly abhorred them. No sooner would they hear me screwing up the drones for bit of piping than they rushed off squealing to hide in the darkest ,ecesses of the ship. Since then I have earned that nothing jars on the sensitive sar of a rat so much as the music of the bagpipes; he will go through fire and water 70 escape it. Indeed in the highlands when rats get troublesome it is a common practice to call in piper to frighten them off, and the device never fails
 The Bird of Paradise lay dead as a log without guidance from helm or impulse from sail, but she kept afoat, and that was ! reason for thankfulness As pinnacle and compass were both gone, it was impossible to judge the course save vaguely by the stars, and as the heavenly bodies had never been much among the objects of my con- compilation my reckoning was wild enough. But my conclusion was that we were mak- &s and that barring accidents or good fortune of being picked up, should sooner or later touch somewhere in the neighborhood of the Persian gulf This pleased me little, for knew the entire region to be infested by bands of pirates, who, should they dis cover us, would make short work of both me and the brig. But, as have said. was powerless to alter the course, and so had to drift on, trusting to Providence for safety
 One evening there sprang up breeze on our larboard quarter, which, for the first time since had been left alone, pushed the Bird of Paradise to something of pace.
 "I'll take it as a good omen," said to myself If she keeps at that, shall soon arrive-somewhere.'
 l l sat on deck that night longer than usual, partly to keep sharp lookout, partly to enjoy the bracing breeze. It could not be called clear night, but there was a | strange light on the sea, half aerial half phosphorescent, that would have made sail.visible at considerable distance had one chanced to come that way, which it didn't.
 About II o'clock l went below, and hay ing fed my family of rats-a thing which did as regularly as 1 said my prayers turned into bed. l lay long awake, how ever, with premonition that something was going to happen. It could not be called painful feeling, rather vague sense of some impending change that might prove important. However. I fell | asleep after time without disturbance of any sort.
 The sun was already level with my peep hole windows when l awoke. After dress ing leisurely went on deck to go through the usual morning exercise of sweeping the ocean to see whether any sail had wandered into view. At first could discern noth- ing and concluded was still all alone, but presently, taking second look, descried the tiniest black speck-it might be a float ing hat-between me and the horizon. My heart thumped in sudden excitement
 Now, what the deuce is thatP" found myself saying with quickened breath. Ut doesn't look like sail No, it can't be sail. If were anywhere in the track of civilization, I should say it was buoy. But buoy where ships never appear to come would be an impossible piece of ab- surdity."
 gazed with all my might, rubbing my eyes when they were dazzled and smarting. and going at 1t again like one whose hope of salvation is centered in his seeing prop erly. My curiosity increased without bringing me any clearer knowledge. "Per- haps it's some monster fish taking the sum-" said aloud, as if 1 had listening compan- lOnS. 1uC no ISn Inelb udu ever nedru or was fond of being broiled alive. It did not move nor show signs of life. "Flotsam, jetsam, ligan'-I went over the possibli- ties, Pieces of wreckage, goods sunk by pirates to be found again at convenience" Neither theory was satisfactory, and my anxiety was feverish. Its The Old Man of the Sea-" thought frivolously, Tor a mer- maid-no. it's too black for a mermaid The creatures are fair"
 But was too painfully interested to give way to whimsical spirit, so in good earnest conjectured, propounding theories to myself and immediately rejecting them rubbing my eyes when they saw double, taking a turn about the ship to ruminate, making childish compact with myself not to look again for l5 minutes and yield ing in l5 seconds to the spell of the black speck l gazed till l saw double, treble, quadruple-till my head was swimming and a thousand objects were leaping and whirling fantastically on the light gray horizon. Then thought 1t prudent to stop gazing for little and went below for breakfast.
 It was nasty. pcrfunctory meal that morning, for in less than five minutes was on deck again. palpitating with de- sire for knowledge. The black speck was still on the glittering plain-distinct. mo- tionless, mysterious as ever. The gentlest breeze blew in my larboard quarter, and in my eagerness ran to the helm, forgetting that it was a splintered wreck. as potent for it's purpose as the tail of melting hen Then, finding it was to be a game of watch ing. hurriedly rigged hammock out of the tangled eordage and sails and climbed into it, intent on discovery. Hours passed without bringing enlightenment. The burning sun beat down on a shimmering, brazen sea whose metallic sheen made me giddy and nearly blind. The breeze died away and the brig lay idle. In all the vast silence there was not sound save the humping of my own heart, nor a visible object save that aggravating black speck.
 By and by went below with some vague idea of luncheon, immediately rushing back on deck more eager than ever. Hardly had