Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-12-23
Written for The STIR.

Written for The STIR.
The Kate Hale was dear old three
masted lady, who should have been safe
and snug IN marine hospital instead OF
pointing her green nose out to sea to spend
Christmas day on the Atlantic ocean, as she
was doing.
Once upon time she had been fine
schooner. But q stone city stood on the
site of the forest that had furnished hef
timbers. Steamships stormed over her OLD
cargo routes. Her old wharves had rofted
long ago and were replaced by concrete and
steel docks with giant derricks that could
have picked the Kate Hale bodily from the
water and tossed her into the street.
She was forgotten. Her arrivals and
departures were chronicled nowhere. Her
cargoes were as unimportant to the world
as the inventory of a suspender peddler.
Tugboats picked her up here and there SUI
perciliously and only in default of a better
tow. The marine insurance companies old
not know her, for premiums on her had
risen till it was cheaper for the shippers
to take the risk of loss rather than pay
almost half her value for insurance.
There are lots Of schooners like her, wad-
ding in the coastwise trade, too old to IN
sure. And there are lots of coastwise sail
ors, down In the world like the ships, who
are glad enough to risk their lives on
hookers on which no one will risk dollars.
The Kate Hale was forgotten even of her
owners. they were the third generation
of the men who had built her and a dozen
sisters and sent them booming down the
American seas to earn noble sums OF
money. The people who owned her on this
Christmas day did not even know her
name. They knew only that some kind
of shipping" was part of the rich estate
that provided them with race horses and
automobiles and champagne and Queen OF
Sheba dresses.
Filled With Cargo Of Salt.
Really they weren't too anxious to peer
into the dead past and remember that one
grandfather had been hand before the
mast and the other clipper ships steward
in the days before they saw their chances
In the coasting trade during the splendid.
idle forties."
So the Kate Hale, steering In feeble
minded way, with her wrinkled bow sob
bling in the December waves, tottered
slowly out around pale Sandy Hook. hum
bly, took the wash Of elegant Madam Luz
cania, and headed down the low New Jer-
sey coast, weighed down to her gunwales
About the time that she was beating out
OF the harbor of New York, raved at by
steamers for getting in the way, bullied to
the edges Of channels by tough. hiccough-
ing tugs, yawing in the ebb tide and sop
ping up seas that came aboard even In the
Swash channel, half a hundred gorgeous
particles of the cream of New York and
Philadelphia society were just finishing
late breakfast in a great hotel on the coast.
They were the kind of people who have
town and country houses and many but
lers and things, but no homes; and they
had been glad indeed when one OF their
,har no ha
pedient of spending Christmas in the big
hotel 1t was delightfully."- exclusive and
romantic, for common persons don't spend
winter days. especially Christmas days. In
summer hotels by the Atlantic.
They looked out to sea from the glass
covered verandas and the ladies remarked
that It was enchanting to watch the winter
ocean in a rage, and some one quoted:
''The surges leap toward heaven
to grapple with the sum-"
About the same time pilot, being rowed
to an inward-bound liner. said to his men:
Run right alongside There isn't enough
sea to bother"
And at the same time the captain Of the
Kate Hale growled to the mate:
Seems to me she's laboring too much In
this cross-wise chop. Better ease her off
Bit"
From which 1t may be seen that there
are many different Views to be taken OF
the sea.
Saw Vessel Sink Suddenly.
The crowd on the inbound liner was say
ing: There are the Narrows just ahead"
The surges and the pale storm sun and the
whole Atlantic business were beginning to
pail on society In the big hotel and 1t
was yawning and wishing 1t was time for
luncheon. The seven men on the Kate Hale
were not bore1 at all. They were pumping
for dear life, for the venerable creature I'M
der them was coming apart.
hat An CT : oh
rang unsteady to announce that 1T was
time fo- eating again in the hotel woman
exclaimed: "Oh, look therep'
There was the Kate Hale coming head
on toward the beach, and even as they
looked she sank without the least fuss.
Society iniulged in one simultaneous Pile
beian gasp. Even the most majecttc lady
of them all picked UP her trailing skirts
and pounded through the sand to the edge
OF the surf. Great men who prided them
selves on the immovable placidity of coun-
tenance with which they could see millions
swept away on the green board Of the stock
exchange shouted like 'longshoremen and
galloped up and down the beach obiivious
to the ungracefulness Of human motion
through the deep sand. There were yells
for ropes and boards and boats; nobody
brought them, for the dual reason that
there were none and that the walters, por-
tiers and other hirelings were fraternizinR
with the rich in warm discussion as to
what to do. and nobody was left to obey
orders.
The only person unmoved by the ship
wreck was the French Chef. He was moved
by other emotions that led him to wiring
his hands and stamp and pull his hair al
ternately. while he cursed the vessel, the
sea and the sailors for spelling his master
piece of luncheon.
by gum" said the mate of the late
Kate Hale, sitting on the maintopmast
spreader; by gum. I most got my feet
wet"
Me too" said the ships boy. calmly for
setful of the nautical discipline that had
been painfully knocked into him with
ropes end.
Wonder what them lunatics on shore
think they're doing" unused the captain.
splitting thoughtfully into the sea from his
position OF honor In the most comfortable
part of the shrouds
They ought to be out here" said the
mate. locking shoreward critically. Seems
to me they're pretty fresh and it's salty