The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1896-11-19
The Wreck.

Through the window at the foot of nv
bed l had glimpse of a long stretch of
hillside with notified patches of sunburn-
ed grass, and gray rock, upon which blaz-
ed a peculiar orange moss that have never
seen elsewhere. Over this hillside filed
long lines of figures black against the
grass and bearing rolled up sail, kegs, and
various marine impedimenta Against
the sky and the sea beyond appeared the
masts of schooner, with black figures at
work. Dreamily watching, | awolle to
the fact that something unusual was going
on.
The figures were men chopping and cut
ting away the rigging. | now saw women
and children sitting in a row on the hill
side; and hastily dressing, l passed
through the kitchen, where the remains
OF meal We're strewn in disorder on the
table, and made my way over the hill.
There lay schooner of say, eighty
tons, high and dry on the rocks, with the
men swarming over it like ants, stripping
it of every article of value l made out
the figure of mine host coming toward
me, with his arms full of crockery.
Schooner came ashore larst night
after ye'd got to bed; thought We was
tagged, or ID a wakened ye. Heaow?
Oh, no; they wa nj any one lost his life:
all got off clear.
''Heaow? Where be they? Oh, they
cal lated t wa MT comfortable for 'em
here, SO they jest sot off. Heaow? Oh,
no, we don't drive no one off, but we
just kind O pinted out the way for EN-
to get clear o the penalties of comm
ashore thout bein' arsked; and they cali
lated t was more healthy for EN- over to
the main. He'd your breakfast? No?
Well, now, jest step along up to the house
th me, and We'll have a bite. Or he'd
you druther stop and see 'em parsel off
the goods? All right; stop it is
The men had arranged along the hill
side the sails, rigging, galley stove, pots
and pans, two chests and several barrels.
and the general wreckage; and mine host.
who was still dressed in yellow tarpaulns
and high boots, and the character of
whose beard suggested the idea that he
had dipped his chin in a can of black
paint, prepared a number of straws Of
unequal lengths, which he offered to one
after the other of the line of stolid-
looking men who had arranged them
selves IN row. Long straw, first
choice, he announced.
"Gother, cried out Il singular looking.
squattily- built individual, who seemed all
"oOr9 ''Ii't ll"L, sttpplllS IOTNdlu ana
critically eying the piles of wreckage
There were murmurs among the men
Take the gear, Jim" said one. ''Gears
wuth tIlutty dollars, if it's with a cent -
Don't ye, JIM called out another:
and then ensUed pandemonium of sug-
gestions, until he who had offered the
straws bawled out, ''Can't We huff Jim
make hees own choice9' Jim finally,
after critically scrutinizing each pile,
acknowledged the superiority of feminine
Judgment 10y referring the matter to his
woman, who promptly selected the
cooking stove, the china, and two green
chests, contents unknown. Then selec-
ton went on until all was apportioned,
and nothing was left but the hull, over
which an unfortunate dog that had been
left by the crew ran frantically up and
down as if in protest against the lootng.
The sea was rising, and long rollers be
gan to come in, beating against the sides
of the Inflated schooner, which trembled
and groaned with every shock
''Heaow? Oh, she missed stays The
captain allowed he made the point, but
didn' know where he was; said the horn
wa MT agoin but | know better Made
the point, tried to come around, and she
wouldn't mind the rudder, and the sea
Just move her up on the ledge. Launched
her boat but the sea stove it in, and We
can see the pieces over there in the cove.
Heaow? oh, yes; the mate he swum
ashore with line, and we hauled EN- all
off. There's her log there; We can read it
if We like. Belonged down st. Johns
way. Heaow? Oh, no, they wun't no
one bother her now; we has wracks-but
hol' on who be We and what be ye?
Painter, eh? What kind? Oh, pic
tiers. Where be We from? Ye dom say.
Y ork, ELI? Well, now-say, | want ye ter
paint me and Maria Liz. Kin We do it?
And heave on plenty of rings and gold
chains and fixins and, say you need MT
git on this pimpil side the nose that's
kind of aggravatin' to Maria Liz. Sho,
Picterman, ell! You don say So Well,
now, shouldn't wonder if you made
good thing of it on heren' George
Wharton Edwards.