The daily Alaskan., 1906-01-10
THE OLD MAN
 OF THE SEA
IOriginaLl

IOriElnaLl
 iu 'Iue Arabian Nights Entertain
 -.ais.' book that has delighted Inii-
 .s4s of pe5p,c both OlI and young, is a.lry uc how SlnJbad the Sailor was .gucs.vI b take an old man on his
 s15aidcrS uuI carry him across a S,.,am. When the old man was secure l. fixed in h.s position he refused to g,t down, and Sindbad was obliged to bear the burden indefinitely. l am re- minded of this story of the "Old Man O. the Sea" lu something similar that happened to me when 1 was young.
 Before settling down to my profes- sion, having put aside enough money to spend a few months In Europe, ] went abroad. The sum was only $500 and I was obliged to piece 1t out by doing good deal of walking. One day l was trudging along through the En- gldine when overlook a man who for some reason was having hard time to get on. When I came up with him bid him good morning and asked him if could be of any assistance to him.
 You might help me along to the next hetel," he said. Its only about mile"
 took hls arm, and as we walked slowly on he told me that he was Enoch Crane, an American. He had Bag been ailing, and his doctor had tent him abroad. He, like myself, was walking because he couldn't afford to ride. When we got to the inn took him to a room and helped him to bed a bed from which he was destined never to arise. He was very i'll in the night. and l sat with him till near morning.
 Having my tune laid out and none to lose, l proposed after breakfast to proceed on my journey, but Mir. Crane begged me so pitifully not to desert fellow countryman among strangers that I agreed to remain with him an- other day. At the end of that day was constrained to remain another and another till found the time allotted for my travels slipping away from me and 1 taking care of sick man in a little Swiss inn.
 In thls way the whole time l had laid out for my trip passed and the time for me to go home arrived. The old man was sinking rapidly, and the village doctor told him that be had bet ter prepare bis affairs for journey to another world. Then MT. Crane called me to his bedside and said to me:
 You tell me you are going home. l beg of you not to leave my body in this facaway land, but to take 1t with you. l have expected to die over here and have made every provision, hay ing inquired the cost of removal In every particular. You will ind exact ly the amount In my wallet under my pillow. Take my body to B., in R. county, in Massachusetts, and about a mile north of the village on the Y. turnpike is q lot forty feet square h. closed with stones taken of the ground. In the center Is a space marked by four posts, where the grave Is to be located. This Is not all. l want you to be custodian of my grave. Send for a notary and I will draw up q paper transferring the lot to you with every thing it contains, which, of course, Is my body"
 What a. situatiOn-my trip spoiled, obliged to go home in company and In care of the corpse of the man who had spoiled 1t, and my pay was plot or ground not worth S20, which, after all, l must hold for a grave. Nevertheless I consented. l cannot claim that l did 1t solely from kindly motives. Enoch Crane possessed a singular Influence over me. Often during my attendance upon him I wondered If l were really myself, If were not under some spell. at such times l invariably thought Of Sindbad the Sailor.
 When Mir. Crane died possessed myself of his wallet, which, in addition to money, contained an account for ex- penses figured down to the closest pos slble amount, 1t struck me that he must have been afraid l would reap few dollars out of the transaction. It paid the way exactly, and expended the last dollar in having the body trans ferred to the grave. had promised Mir. Crane that I would see the grave dug. the body lowered and the earth put back, all under my own superin- tendence. To do this I must pay for my own carriage. Glad of the prospect of getting the disagreeable matter of my hands, I secured two men with the necessary implements and was soon standing beside them as they dug the grave between the posts Crane had de- scrlbed. They had gone down about four feet when one of them threw up a tin box. I took charge of 1t, but since 1t was locked was obliged 10 wait my return to the village before examining 1t. I presumed 1t to be an other whim of the man who was being buried.
 Having kept my promise to the let- ter. I drove back to the village and, calling for room in the little hotel