, 1897-04-26
A YOUTHS ADVENTURES.


Which,. whether Truth or Fiction. Are De-
cidedly Interesting.
When riding in tho tram car through
tho widest Parts of Pcckhum Ry'.
writes Il contributor to the London
News, with n friend-wc wcrc bound
OH IL journalistic crrand-a bronzcl
young nan Of marine appearance jUmlr-
ed into the car and at once recognized
my companion. Before we had gone
very far l was deep in one Of the oldest
family histories. This new arrival it Z
seems, when Il boy of II, hiuk been pos. /
sessed by the fear Of consumption, that |
fell disease having carried off his brother
and threatening his father and mother.
Accordingly he read every hook that he
could lay his hands Oh dealing with the
subject, and, as the result of his read.
ing, ran away to Bournemouth to be
near the pines. Having no funds, he
engaged himself to Il local ~tishmongcr,
carrying his masters fish to the various
customers. When tho days work was
done, he shouldcred Il hammock which
he had brought with him and camped
among some Of these pines for which
that southern health resort is famous.
One night IL gentleman, sauntcring
along, smoking a cigar, noticed him,
and, being amazed at this "al frcsco"
bed. entered into conversation with
him. why, l know who you are" cx-
claimed the consumptivc youth ut last.
"Iou're Mr.. Louis Stevenson, the man
who wrote Treasure Island.'" "How
do you knOw?' said the gentleman.
Because l deliver you fish. You live
at Skerryvore.' $50 I do" replied
Stevenson, for he it was sure enough.
But you don't talk like a %fishmonger's
boy "No more l do, " replied the boy,
and he then poured his strange secret
into the novclist's ear, which was SYM
pathetic enough, you may be sure.
The result of this odd meeting was IN
invitation to breakfast. "Oh, and l did
eat. said the young man. He told the
story so loudly that the whole train
laughed. And the servants couldn't
make it out at all to see the distin-
guIshcd author entertaining poor me.
Then he went TO Paris, and l never
saw him again for n long while" The
pines not proving strong enough, tho
strange youth was seized with a yearn.
ing for the scent of the eucalyptus and
persuaded his friends to send him to
sea. When he reached Sydney, he sold
his outfit and ran away into the bush
and lived i'll the open with eucalyptus
galore. Thence, after many adventures.
he sailed for the south seas and abode
by rec and palm for many a long year.
One day when cruising as supercargo
among the Gilbert islands, l think, a
European swell in beautiful white
duck, Il great rcd sash and a spreading
panama hat, with apeacock's feather in
it, came aboard the schooner. GOOD
morning, Mr.. Stevenson - said the SUI
pcrcargn. Mr.. Stevenson looked and
wondered who knew him in these faroff
seas. Il don't know you" he said.
shaking his head. but l know Won.
Don't you remember the ~fishmonRer's
boy who ate such n big breakfast at
Skcrryvore:' 80 do. Well, the world
is small indeed" And no doubt the
two had pegs and tifin-or whatever
they call such things i'll the islands-to-
gctner. What n strange, small world it
is indeed! Well, one succumbed to the
dread disease; the other is as hearty "a
fellow as ever saw It was a quaint,
grim fancy to go lodging phthisis all
over the world!-London News,