The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1900-03-23

and roar OF the gum the headlong
dash from dizzy heights, the crump-
ling and whirling ana floating off
with the tide. Why, in time, don't
the boys come and pick up those
ducks? Dear reader. you have ex-
perienced it all. May, you enjoy it
again as did; red-letter day in our
calendar of time. The boys came
back, brought me lunch of cold ven
ison and hot coffee, took my place in
the stand and got into the boat,
pushed off on the placid sea, picked
up ducks.a .and enjoyed. my lunch, while
from behind me came. bang! bang!
bang! at one time five running dis
charges-W both barrels and
Mack three from his Winchester. AT
ter little while the flight became ir-
regular and almost stopped. Some
of our duck had drifted away on the
tide, but we picked up twenty-four
and voted duck enough. So we got
back to the sharpie, took supper and
smoke, thinking, What next? The
Colonel said it was bad to leave such
shooting; hadn't had such fun for
good while, but the boys out-voted him
and carried for oysters and 'Mattla-
shay" pass.
After supper, now almost calm, we
slid out onto the water of Charlotte
harbcr and the motion of the boat for
an hour reminded me of BurtOn's
comic song:
wheel about and turn about and jump Jim
Crow,
And every time you turn about you do jlst
sO.''
But after awhile it steadied to the east
, again, and with .sfree sheet and
flowing sea we headed for Matlasha.
The wind increased until "All hands
to windward. - The boat's lee gum
vale was again washed by the 'salt
sea wave.' Wheeler, of Cresco, at
the helm. Suddenly the captain called
out: 'tLuff herl Luff!'' The helms
| man pulled his tiller toward him and
buried the boats nose to the cabin in
the sea. Don't put her away! Luif,
| hang it! Shove the tiller to the water
barrel!'' called the captain. The
helmsman, as he showed the tiller to-
ward the water barrel and lifted the
boats nose out of the sea, pulling his
hair with fingers under his hat. ejacu-
lated, ''Lord, I'll never make a sail
or" No pen of mine can do justice
to Wheeier's grieved, despairing tone,
but on we sailed right merrily over
the turquoise sea, the crest of the
waves lit by the moon descending to-
ward the west. All! Such a night,
and such a sail, and such ''goodlie
companie.
At IL O'Clock on Tuesday night we
anchored in Matlasha pass. This
| sheet of water lies on the east side of
Charlotte barber, between Pine island
and the main land. 1t is about ten
miles long by two in width. 1t is full
of shadows and channels. and every
where dotted with small islands COW
cred with mangrove. To keep us go
ing, and from fear of starvation, the
next morning We picked up about ten
bushels of oysters. These oysters are
what are called here simples. The meat
OF the oyster is in size about the bulk of
an egg, one shell flat, the other from
one to one and one-haif inches deep.
These We're white, firm and delicious.
We Waded about and others took a
swim. The sea water was clear as
cry stal.
A little after noon we pulled anchor
and starred for Captiva Pass, going
out into Charlotte Harbor. and on
dow II through Pine Island sound, AS
We sailed along pile of duck on duck
and sacks OF oysters on board, not to
remark about roast venison not yet
consumed. we begun to discuss the
chances for supper. Said the':aptain:
1 don't want venison, ducks I de-
spise and Oysters-Well don't want
oysters. If only had a pompanole
now maybe I could eat something. -
suspect that be. saw two fishing boats
half mile ahead. At any rate, AS
We came up to them he. called: What
are you catchine?" The reply was:
"Pompsnole.' "Can We get some:''
"Yes." We luffed up and for q
quarter got three large ones. and we
<1i,..<,vor.,.1 tl,..t %ho 40 nf.; ., ,,,,l1 NJ.