Republican news item. [volume] (Laport, Pa.) 1896-19??, 1910-01-20
A Hard Pull


Simpson and Little Abner. The
wharf, gray and shaky with age.
stretched out from the grassy bank,
over the pebble beach, out into the
blue tide, like long arm of the small
town, ready to grasp from the broad
waterway whatever of life and indus
try came within its reach. 1t caught
but little nowadays. Now and then
an occasional coaster took on load
Of ice or fish or lumber. Between
times Beachport went to sleep and
dreamed Of her former prosperity.
Captain Holcombe's weather-beat-
en- face had smiled through long LIE
voyage. 1t was crossed and recrossed
by bad-weather marks Of contrary
gales, but certain humorous lines
spoke Of northwest breezes and fair
winds. Nate and Pete were big,
bronzed young men, mates on coast
ing schooners. taking an idle day or
two between trips. AS for Little Alb
ner, he was little only in name. HIS
appellation had stuck to him In spite
Of increasing inches, and only strang-
It was a still afternoon. The only
sounds which broke the quiet we're
the swash of the lazy waves against
the rotting wharf, and now and then
the insistent call of the August In
sect.
"The Byron P. Thorne will have
good chance out tonight" remarked
Peter, languidly letting his eyes wan
der over the bay to the horizon-line.
Captain Holcombe remarked, Dir
ty to the suth'rd."
Guess it's only loom"
"Well," returned the captain, "meb-
be it Is and mebbe 1t amt. II it was
anything else in question you might
calculate. But fog. Scott! There
amt anything uncertainer In this
world of uncertainties. A cyclones
steady-going compared to fog. You
think you are in for 1t, and-whiff! the
skys clear as a bell. Again, and you
won't see the bowsprit from midships
for week Of days"
That's So" asserted Nate.
Speaking of fog" went on the old
man, makes me think of the summer
OF '65. l never see anything like
that before or since"
where was your" asked Peter.
Little Abner, who was fishing, edged
nearer and kept one ear turned to-
ward the captain.
"Otf East Point, whaling. / ship
ped that year as mate In the Ellen
Mary, but before l was through the
voyage II be blowed if wasn't every
thing, from cabin-boy to captain. What
with being sick and getting hurt, we
had 80 many laid up that we all had
70 turn to and get the days work done
somehow. First the captain he sailed
In with spell of ailing, then Big Jim
broke his leg falling Off the foreyards.
I was ships doctor" and Captain Hol.
combe chuckled.
know anything about doctoring?"
asked Peter. The captains blue eyes
twinkled beneath their shaggy brows.
"Well, perhaps not just according
to the medical idea. My sister she
married a man who was studying to
be a doctor. He give it up before the
FIRST year was out, and went into the
canning business, but 1t kind Of gave
us feeling Of belonging to the pro-
fession. That's why they hit on me to
6x Big Jim's leg. | must say was
staggered for a bit. I'd never seen a
broken leg, much less meddled with
one. But common sense helps you
along all right If only you don't hinder
Il, and I argued it out in my mind
that what that leg wanted was
chance to mend itself. I made it fast
to bit of broken oar lashed it we'll
with rope yarn, and wrapped 1t up In
q piece of old sail, and nature did the
rest OF the business"
Want he lame?" asked Pete.
well, not to speak of. 1t put his
Dteering-tackle a bit out of gear and
he couldn't point according to COM
pass. But nothing to hurt. The boys
called me Doc after that, and my
work was cut out for me the rest Of
the voyage. never see anything
like 1t. Seemed as If we had Jonah
on board Bad luck with whales. too.
They was as scarce as barnacles on
the topmast.
Then the fog shut down, and for
three mortal weeks we much as ever
knew where we was. Fog! 1t was
soupl We ate 1t and drank It, and 1t
got into our heads until we couldn't
think clear. We was soaked from
stem to stern, and the men was fair
Grassy. There amt nothing lonesomer
than fog. Mon says Angus McDon-
cid. He was a big. red-haired Scotty.
Mon. I'd gle a good bit O. siller to
hae ane O. ma gran'feyther's sermons
alang!' 'Why?' says l. They're the
driest things l ken. says he.
Then Galley Joe's finger had to
come of, and was the one to do It.
He'd got 1t poisoned with a fish-
hook"