Putnam patriot. [volume] (Putnam, Conn.) 1872-1962, 1916-02-04

water. for the black fellow doesn't like
she SeaSicky rollers any more than his
shunter does. Besides. what was more
Important. bait had left the shadows
saad zone cut of the reach Of the mud
ii t.as Gay Tor poker, the telling Of
galeS or re.sding and snoozing or tinker
iu- in The bol,house.
And tinkering in the boathouse was
sI,ci-e.., what Uncle Billy was doing
..anged along the top of his work
,hcif were dozens of spark plugs. Next
40 bringing home four FOUNDER he
liked to tinker Ills attitude and out
oak asert Identical to those Of the vii
.t.e toctor- matter how well you
.o5Ael or felt, something wrong could
g found soing on in your insides.
only CIscle bily acquired ne profit
ut mss uia4uUSes. With grease
as;t eG hand lie uursed his stubby
I,-....a e.liH.
fast it. seven Plugs, n net one OF
u vatS darn, Whut's folks sellm
4c,e days. anEhew?'
sSearth me. sud voice from the
ear doorway.
"By j.nSs" Cuele Billy wiped his
a4gcrs On Il piece of waste and trot
ed to the door f | didn't know they
,sa'u't ne sech thing es a ghosti How
re You. Mr. Crawford Nhen'd v
II here! : manin? Well. well! A
WIN gale outside Rainin barb wire
a pitehforks. No bass in SMALLER wa
- tmoYow. Wen try Homing dock
n mebhe til wreck in Sand bay oh.
SHAW. | can't row you. Mr.. Gran
tord Got party. No idea how long
hes goin' L stay neither. Why d'nt
y write meF
"One ut IL time, Bill one at time.
~ back TO your work. I'll tell you all
I know when I've prowled about and
sind of soaked this picture into my
soul"
and stamped his feet.
He had come cross lots, through the
high grass, and the very SIX wunch-
;kwunch of the wet leather on his feet
was music. an obligato, to the slap,
swish. slap-swish of the river which
sprawled over aud about the runway
Sloping down from the boathouso
doors
This was air, washed clean. clean
from the heavens, indebted by smoke
or dust or contact with living things.
nectarous, Gods own.
lie leaned against the Jamb, breath
ins, breathing, with little smack OF
L., ~. l.,
90. He waited the good of il in his
veiLs in his. marrow In another day
| he would forget that he had ever been
anything but an outdoor man. of sim.
| pie habits. imple thoughts
How well he knew every nook and
corner of these wonderful waters, Eu-
rope, Asia. Africa and the south sea
isles. North and South America he
| knew. but none of them called like this
quiet but rugged spot. Often while
| sitting on the balconies or verandas of
notable foreign hotels his thought had
annihilated the distance.
He eouid see boat after boat coming
| in toward evening, the catch thrown
carelessly on the dock; he could hear
the banter of the bronzed guides. the
! Dragging of the fishermen and the ho
! tel bartender's polite We'll. what luck
/ today. sirg'
Uncle Billy. vainly pretending to
| squint at the business end of spark
plug held between his eyes and the
light. watched his young friend coy
ertly.
Didn't look as fit as usual. Been
staying up late and lying abed morn
! Ings. Two or three days ON the water
would take that look out of his face
Lester in from Reed's?" asked
| Crawford presently.
''Yestiddy.'
ANY one got him"
Nope. I'll have him around at tn
| hotel after supper, He'll be tickled t
death t. row you. He's in luck. Two
| good fishermen In one season. He's tn
best guide up here. Mighty good o
| you T. stick t me all these years. But
| r see, 1t don't make no difference t
| you who rows. You know where t go
N how { fish, n when you don't git
'em nobuddy does"
Crawford laughed, and Instantly It
| occurred to him that this was the first
time he had laughed honestly In
| months.
| "Y' see, Lester's horned. guide.
| Whut he don't know bout birds n
fish Why. tn game commissioners
could go t school with him n larn a
hull lot Bring TIL gunsy'
| Yes"
LOTS O. black duck this year. tn
mallard amt showed up yet
WHO Is tile lady you are rowingf"
| Uncle Billy laid down the spark plug
gently. you'll think I'm stuffin' you
but | amt, Mr.. Crawford. Say. I'D
like t see you m Der in tn same boat
on a day when they amt ibitin' fast
| "Oh-ho, OFF with the old love, OIL
with the new, DO you mean to tel
me that you have mt last found wo
i man who knows how to strike n bass z
"Guess SO. Ony woman | ever Sc,
who gifts 'ff-out ut Pidgfh An When
she strikes em she amt maxim no eff
i fort t hist 'em down t Oswego."
| Crawford shouted. BILLY. you're good
Tor my SOUL azas.t .s45aa5ts All
An you're good fer sore eyes, Mr.
Crawford. Fished you when y wort
short pants Your paw was some fish
erman, | tell you!
He was a good man to his son
Billy"
Crawford stepped away from the gas