The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1914-08-12

GU dfes says l. OOl sOHI
farming done so early?"
Noe" he drawls. Not pre-
cisely. The fact Is, Sol. Hartley
and | have decided that agrieul-
tursl labor Is a painful condition.
not a theory"
Hartley got up, pretty average
gingerly, and they climbed into
the skiff. 1 pushed off and begun
TO row.
The tide was going out fast and
twas a hard pull, three of us in
that little skiff, but by and by we
reached the main. And there was
Scudder's hired boy waiting for
us He had the hens dozen of
'em-jammed into one lath coop.
The door of ii was fastened with
a shaky wooden button.
Where's the pig?" says Hart
ley.
Here he is"
We could hear him. He want
in a box at all, as he'd ought TO
have been according to contract,
but setting in the sand with his
hind legs tied together with
Little he was, and thin, but
the Heavenlies fell down and wor-
shipped him like he was a hog
angel.
skiff--the pig fairly sung psalms
while was doing it-and then
the Twins climbed aboard.
"All right. skipper" says Van.
Shove off,"
Just a minute" says 4. what
am | going to co-tske the next
trains? This transport seems to
be pretty well loaded"
1t was. Van Brunt was on the
amidships thwart. Hartley was
up in the bow with the pig be-
tween his knees. The chicken coop
was piled in the stern. / didn't
exactly kneel, but straddled
across the stern somehow. with
the butt end of the hen roost in
my lap and my feet over each rail
just clear of the wet.
We moved off stately and slow,
like an ocean liner leaving her
dock. Van rowed like a good one
till he got about two-thirds of the
way across. Then the tide got a
grip on us and he commenced to
go slower and groan.
BY and by Hartley spoke up.
What makes this pig kick
so?" says he.
You look out he don't kick
that string off his legs" holers.
He bent forward and looked
down. WHY" says he. "I'Il be
shot II he hasn't done 1t alreaay. g"
yells. For the land sakes don't
let him loose"
Van Brunt gives a final groan
and stops the oars.
No use, skipper" he says.
MY cucumber recreation has put
me out of the race. wouldn't
row another stroke for the control
of the Standard Oil. You'll have
to be shofer the rest of the way"
Then that pesky idiot stood up
to stretch, leaving the oars In the
rowloeks. Course the skiff swung
broadside on and a wave knocked
the starboard oar overheard.
Hartley see 1t going and make a
jump and a grab. He missed it,
you might know, but he let go of
the pig.
l ripped out a lively kind of
speech and dove for the port
oar. The hen coop was in my way
and II and me went headfirst into
Van Brunt's shirt front. When I
got out OF the mix-up, both oars
was ten yards astern, the pig was
doing three laps a minute over us
and under the thwarts, and the
hens was all out of Jail and proud
OF 1t. Likewise we was drifting
out to sea.
Welt" says 8. This is nice
amt it? Get OUT, you varminti"
This last part was to a pullet that
was Hopping on my shoulders.
Would you believe it, all them
Heavenly looms done was to laugh.
They just roared. was mad
clean through.
This skiff won't float forty
minutes, loaded as she is. II she
drifts outside that point yonder,"
I yells.
Then she mustn't drift there. %
says Van. cheerful. Il don't want
to get wet-not now, with James
gone. This is the only presentable
suit I've got left. If this is wreck.
ed you'll have to press it, Sol. :"
My, but l was hoppingi Talking
about pressing clothes, and us
next door to going to the bottom :
iii press nothing" says I.
And I'll say right now, Mr.. Van
Brunt. that | like you both first
rate-when you amt too crafty.
but either you'll have to get me
a helner or IN ouff That - ~
we get out of this mess alive.
which amt likely"
All the time I was preachine|
this way I was Juggling at the
'midshiP thwart. Finally 1 got it1
loose and showed il over the stern
| was going to try to scuH with
il.
The Heavenlies was completely
upset Not by fear of drowning
-drat EN- I don't cal'iate they
was afraid OF snything-but ny
talk of quitting seemed to knock
'em silly.