The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1904-06-22
CAPTAIN HANK.
Ne Was Not One Of the Kind That
Skinned Feathers

Ne Was Not One Of the Kind That
Skinned Feathers.
In a little island harbor of the Maine
coast dwells Billy Van SAINT. fisher
man, bachelor and artist Painting in
his crude way the surf. the moonlit
waters. the Jagged rocks about his
cabin. selling his pictures for a pit
tance. and on the proceeds taking a
lesson or two from some better
equipped artist, he turns art into more
art. and for the needs OF his body de-
pends upon fish line and lobster pot
and a chance days work with some
prosperous neighbor.
No one ever looked upon nieghbor
with greater pity than is bestowed up
on Billy by Capt. Hank. whose neat
white cottage faces the opposite side
Of the harbor.. Capt. Hank is "prac-
tical." A cent is cent TO him and a
hundred of them. counted slowly,
make a dollar.
Billy's flour barrel was entirely
empty one day. and his cupboard
shelves were almost bare. when Capt.
Hank pushed upon the cabin door
without the formality of knocking
and entered.
"Howdye, Billy!" he said. Il cal'late
to git up to the Narrer tomorrow af-
ter load Of wood Didn't know but
l cd cit ye to go along"
Billy's heart leaped. To the Mar
rows would be whole days trip.
That would mean SO. and on 50 he
could live in luxury for more than
fortnight.
"Ill be glad to go, captain" he said.
They were away at daybreak. beat
ing up the channel of the river mouth
against a strong head wind. They
spent the middle of the day, an hour
and half, putting the wood on board
the sloop. and at nightfall anchored
again under the lee of Capt. Hanks
rocky dooryard. Weary and wet, Billy
sought his cabin. took down the last
provisions from the shelves. tld ate
everything but q cold potato an a bis
suit, which he reserved for brt lkfast.
On the morrow he would le rich
again.
The next morning Capt. Hani again
sculled his punt across the harbor
and entered the cabin. From bulky
shot-bag he extracted with pair ul de-
liberation, three silver dimes.
II come over to settle up : that
little trip yesterday" he said. Thirty
cents. make it-hour and hi ~
Billy wheeled in amazement.
'W-w-what?" he gasped.
wal, course we wasn't but an kour
an twenty minutes putin the wood
aboard. but amt one O them folks
that skins the feathers off the eagle.
Hour and half I call It, and you're
welcome to every cent of it," He held
the three dimes forth reluctantly.
Whatever there is of fear or ridi-
Guile in the artistic soul is acutely de-
veloped in Billy. He looked at the
three dimes. but hesitated not mo-
ment.
mo, no. Put it up, Hank, put it
up" he said. you don't owe me
cent"
With an air of relief the captain re-
turned the dimes to the shot pouch,
and tied them in securely.
well. of course. you're welcome to
It," he said. as he back out.
II reckon Billy amt more'n half
baked" he told his wife over the din
ner table that noon. Wouldn't take
cent for worlSin' yesterday, and he
might a screwed me for the whole
day-two dollars"
But over in his cabin Billy. who was
dining off the last half Of the potato
and the crumbs of the biscuit. was
quite sure that he would not change
places with his wealthy neighbor.--
Youths Companion.