[to be continued.]
THE RABBIT HUTCH.
[THE FRIDAY PICNIC.]
BY MATTHEW WHITE, JUN.
"But you can't expect Hatty to put off her birthday, can you?" and Ralph Wicksley shied a small pebble against the hand of his friend by way of emphasizing the absurdity of the idea.
"Oh, pshaw! of course not," replied the other boy, with a half-smile; "but ten chances to one it rains at a picnic anyway, and on a Friday, and the 13th of the month, there's no knowing what may not happen."
"Why, George Hendon, how long since you've turned a superstitious pagan?" exclaimed a voice behind the two, who were taking a "sun bath" on the beach at Seamere.
"Hello, Graham!" cried Ralph, springing to his feet. "We'll leave the matter to you. You know about the picnic we're to give your sister on her thirteenth birthday? Well, we've just discovered that it occurs not only on the 13th of the month, but on a Friday besides, and George here thinks we ought to postpone it on that account. It's all nonsense, isn't it?"
"I don't believe any of the girls will go on that day," put in George, by way of influencing Graham Burd's answer.
"And I don't believe one of them has thought of the coincidence," returned the latter; "and probably never will, unless you put it into their heads. You're not afraid to go yourself, are you?"
"Well, no, I'm not exactly afraid, but I think we'd feel more comfortable all around if we should choose some other day. You know sailors are terribly superstitious, and if, while we are in the boat, some one should mention the three queer facts (although I give you my word it won't be me), all the pleasure for some of the girls would be spoiled."
"Oh, don't you believe it!" cried Graham. "I'm sure Hatty, for one, has too much sense to make herself miserable because of a mere silly old wives' tale, so don't put it off on her account. Besides, there'll be more than thirteen in the party, which fact of itself ought to calm the fears of the most timid."
George said no more on the subject; everybody went on making preparations for the long-anticipated expedition to Forest Island; and when the day arrived, no more beautiful one could have dawned. By ten o'clock the Burds' tiny wharf was crowded with the young summer residents of Seamere, who were transferred, amid much laughter, chatter, and playful shrieks, to Ralph Wicksley's handsome Whitehall row-boat.
"It's too bad the Maxtons can't go, isn't it?" remarked Hatty, as the boys pushed off, and good-byes were waved to fathers and mothers on the lawn. "Their cousin Jack arrived from South America last night, and as he can only stay with them one day, of course they didn't like to leave him."
"Yes, I had the other boat all ready to bring along," added Ralph; "but as the party was thus reduced by four, I thought it would be pleasanter for us all to keep together."
"Why, I do declare," exclaimed Albertina Brown, a few moments later, "there are just thirteen of us! It's lucky we're to eat on the grass and not at a table."
"And to-day's Friday!" cried Fanny Ray.
"And the 13th of the month!" added her sister Helen.
"And my thirteenth birthday!" finished Hatty, whereupon a chorus of dismal "Oh! oh! ohs!" arose from all the girls, while Ralph cast a despairing glance toward Graham, and George Hendon smiled the least bit triumphantly at them both.
"Let's go back," proposed a faint girlish voice, after the first excitement had subsided; but such a "cowardly course" was at once vetoed by a deep-toned "Forward!" from the boys, who bent to their oars with curved backs in their determination to prove how splendidly everything could be made to go off in spite of the series of ill omens.
The girls, however, could think of nothing else but the wonderful inauspicious coincidences, and although not one of them, when questioned individually, would acknowledge to being really superstitious, still the numberless stories told in which unlucky days and figures were shown at their worst were almost sufficient, one would think, to sink the boat of themselves.
Among others was the tale of the matter-of-fact ship-owner, who put no faith in any of the sailors' silly beliefs, and who, to prove their absurdity, laid the keel of a vessel on Friday, named it Friday, launched it on a Friday, at length succeeded in finding a crew for it commanded by a Captain Friday, set sail on that day, and—was never heard of afterward.
To offset the depressing effects of this tragic albeit somewhat doubtful narrative, Ralph told about the Thirteen Club which had been recently organized in the city, the membership of which was restricted to thirteen, and which met for dinner on the 13th of each month at a hotel the name of which was spelled with thirteen letters. "And nothing 'perfectly awful' has befallen any one of the members so far as heard from," concluded Ralph, exultingly.
There were certainly several grains of comfort to be extracted from this fact, and cheerfulness began to diffuse itself once more over the party, when Fanny Ray, who was steering, suddenly declared that the sight of salt-water on every side of her always made her thirsty for a drink of fresh, and a search was at once instituted for the water jug.
"I saw Graham put it somewhere in the stern here," continued Fanny; "but don't any of you boys try to get at it, for you'll be sure to put your foot into the basket of cake or the jar of jelly. Here, Hatty, I think I feel it right down here; but Ralph says I mustn't let go of the ropes; so will you please stoop down and lift it out for me?"
Now, as may be imagined, with a party of thirteen aboard, there was not much spare room in the boat, so when anything was wanted from the bottom of it, it had to be felt, not looked for.
"I've got hold of the cork, at any rate," she presently announced, "but the jug seems to be wedged in some way. There, now! I've pulled the cork out. Oh dear! why didn't I find the handle?"
"Let me try," proposed George, giving his oar to Phil Hallibey, and making his way aft.
"Here's the glass!" exclaimed Albertina; "and I'm thirsty too."
"Oh, George Hendon, right on my foot!" cried Helen.
"Careful now," commanded Fanny. "I'm awfully sorry to make all this trouble, and—"
"O—h—h! we're sinking! we're sinking! Help! help!"
And the next moment it became known to them all that Hatty had mistaken the boat plug for the cork of the water bottle, had pulled it out, and that now the river was pouring in with appalling swiftness.
"Pull for the flats, fellows!" shouted Ralph, tearing off his jacket as he spoke. "Here, George, see if you can stuff this coat into the hole; and, girls, keep perfectly quiet, or you'll overturn the boat. Don't mind if you do get wet, but sit still."
Ralph spoke in loud, commanding tones that were at once obeyed; but the danger was by no means over. The boat was settling rapidly, the water being already half-way up to the thwarts, but ruined skirts and soaked shoes were never thought of as all sat watching breathlessly, now George's efforts to stop the leak, now the light streak on the river that marked the edge of the flats, and which was still several yards distant.
"Pull! pull!" cried Ralph, working himself with all his strength. "Can't you stop it, George? We're nearly there, girls."
Higher and higher rose the water in the boat; again and again was George baffled in his attempts to stem the incoming floods, as in the crowded condition of the stern he could not see what he was doing, and to ask any one to move would be to endanger capsizing the whole party. And all the while the sun shone brightly down on the sparkling river; the village, too, was still in sight, and not far off was the shady island where the picnic was to be held. It seemed terrible to think of going down, down amid such—
"Saved!" suddenly shouted Ralph, as the boat shot out from the channel and in among the eel-grass. "Somebody's sure to see and take us off very soon, and meanwhile you needn't mind sitting in the water, as long as it isn't up to your eyes. It's salt, so you won't catch cold."
Nevertheless the situation of the party was anything but a pleasant one, for the boat settled until it touched bottom, and then careened over, throwing both Graham Burd and Phil Hallibey into the river.
"Here comes a boat!" suddenly exclaimed Albertina.
"And it's the Maxtons out rowing with their cousin Jack," added Hatty.
The young cousin from South America proved to be an old sailor, and under his superintendence the girls were soon carried ashore in detachments to the nearest point, after which he returned to help "raise the wreck."
The thirteen having been dried and lunched at their several homes, they all met to spend the afternoon at the Maxtons', where the same useful cousin proved himself likewise a master-hand at entertaining, so what with games, stories, music, and ice-cream, the lost excursion was lavishly atoned for; and when a terrible thunder-storm about three o'clock caused them all to feel glad that they were not on Forest Island, even George Hendon acknowledged that in spite of coincidences and the boat plug, their Friday picnic was a lucky one after all.
[BITS OF ADVICE.]
BY AUNT MARJORIE PRECEPT.
ON THE ROAD.
Travelling in our country is both comfortable and agreeable, if the traveller will pay attention to a few directions. I suppose, dear little friends, that you have seen fussy and fidgety people on the road, who made themselves and other people unhappy by their behavior. The cars were too warm or too cold, the locomotive was going too fast or too slow, they feared the baby in the next seat had the whooping-cough, or they were sure there would be a collision. If on the water, they were in terror lest the engineer was racing, and the uneasiness they felt made them wretched.
Now, my dears, listen to me. When you go on a journey you are a passenger; your ticket is paid for; and as you are neither captain, pilot, conductor, nor engineer, give yourself no trouble about the way car or boat is being managed. Never take responsibility that does not belong to you.
The old Romans used to call baggage impedimenta. They tried to have as little of it as they could when on a march. Unless you are going to stay a long time, take no more luggage than is necessary. A little hand-bag or a shawl-strap, with perhaps an umbrella, is all that a young traveller should have to care for on a journey.
When you purchase your ticket, if no older friend is with you to attend to the checking of your trunk, you must see to it yourself. This is very simple. Go with your ticket to the place to which the expressman has taken your trunk, show your ticket to the baggage-master, and he will attach a check to your goods, and give you one precisely like it. You must put this away in a place where you can get at it conveniently, as you must return it to the steamer or railway company when you claim your property.
Never tuck your ticket out of sight or into some out-of-the-way pocket. Have it ready to show the conductor whenever it is called for.
A little girl is sometimes uncertain what to do about her money if she is travelling with a gentleman. For instance, Eda is going to visit Angeline, and at the station in New York she is met by Angeline's brother Dick. She does not wish him to purchase her ticket, but she feels awkward about offering him the money to pay for it.
The proper thing for Eda is to hand her pocket-book to Mr. Dick, and request him to take from it the amount of her fare. The pleasantest way, if the journey be a long one, would be for Eda's papa to give her escort a sufficient sum to pay all her expenses.
People on a journey should not be selfish. Nobody should take two seats when only entitled to one. Two or three merry boys and girls travelling together should be careful not to laugh and talk so loudly that they annoy others. Ladies and gentlemen never do this. You can have a great deal of fun without being conspicuous.
Never neglect a chance to do a kindness to an aged or feeble person. Nothing is more beautiful on the road than courtesy from the young to those who are old or in trouble.
[AIDS FOR YOUNG ANGLERS.]
BY A. W. ROBERTS.
How often has it happened that on reaching a camping ground, hotel, or boarding-house near river or lake, where pickerel, bass, and large perch abounded, I have found no provision for the angler's sport but a boat; no lines, sinkers, or floats; no nets for catching live bait, and no bait but worms! For sunfish, cat-fish, and small perch, worms are very fair bait; but for pickerel, bass, and large perch, live bait is best. Under such trying circumstances, I have learned to get up at short notice and at small expense many make-shifts and aids that may be of great assistance and consolation to other young anglers when placed in a similar position.
Fig. 1.
Fig. 1 is an end section of a mosquito-net seine for taking live bait. The length of the seine is thirty-eight feet; depth, five feet. The "cork line" (A A) consists of a small-sized clothes-line. Corks not always being obtainable, I have used pieces of thoroughly seasoned white pine three inches in length and one inch in diameter (C C C). Through these rounded pieces of wood holes are bored, through which the clothes-line passes. These floats are placed eight inches apart, and are kept in position by the clothes-line fitting tightly in the holes. At the bottom of the seine another clothes-line is sewed to the netting; (B B). This is called the "lead line," and is for the purpose of keeping the lower part of the seine close to the bottom of the water. On the "lead line" pieces of sheet-lead one inch in length are fastened (H H H) twenty-eight inches apart. The "staff" (D) is a well-seasoned piece of hickory six feet long, to the lower end of which sheet-lead is also fastened (at E) to keep it down. To the staff is attached the staff line (F F F), thirty feet long, which is for the purpose of drawing in the seine after it has been cast.
Fig. 2.
A seine of this size is generally worked by two persons and two boats. Each person takes one of the staff lines in his boat, and rowing toward the shore with the extended seine, describes a semicircle between the boats. As the shore is approached, each boat closes in, thereby causing the two staffs to meet, and imprison, all the fish that have come within the bounds of the seine. When one person works the seine, one of the staff lines is tied to a rock or stake on the shore, and the other line is taken into a boat, or the operator wades out, and causes his end of the seine to describe a circle until the two staffs meet. Great care must be taken to keep the lead line close to the bottom, otherwise the fish will escape. In the selection of the seining ground always avoid stony bottoms, snags, and brush, which will cause the seine to "roll up" and tear.
The cost of the above-described seine ranges from three to four dollars, and is capable of lasting two seasons if carefully handled and spread out on the grass to dry after using it. A much superior article to mosquito net is bobinet, which will last several seasons.
Fig. 3.
Fig. 4.
Fig. 2 is a bait boat, for keeping the bait alive. It is towed behind or kept by the side when fishing. The top and bottom pieces consist of half-inch pine "stuff"; in the centre of each piece square openings are cut; that on the top is protected by a door made of wire-cloth of quarter-inch mesh, fastened to two small staples, which answer the purpose of hinges; over the opening in the bottom piece wire-cloth is nailed, to admit of a free circulation of water. Under the back end of the top piece a cleet is nailed, also two cleets on the bottom piece, as shown in the figure. At the bow of the boat an upright piece of wood is fastened to the top and bottom of the bait boat by means of screws. The sides of the boat consist of one piece of wire-cloth, the ends of which meet at the upright piece of wood at the bow, and are nailed with broad-headed galvanized nails. The top and bottom edges of the wire-cloth are also fastened with nails to the edges of the top and bottom of the boat, as shown in the figure. A tow-line is fastened to the bow, and the boat is complete.
When handling the bait a small hand-net (Fig. 3) is used, consisting of a stout piece of wire bent as shown in the figure; the straight parts of the wire are bound together with fishing-line, and constitute the handle; to this frame netting is sewed to form the net bag.
Fig. 5.
When fish are caught, they ought to be kept in water to keep the scales soft, otherwise they become dry and set, and are troublesome to clean.
For a make-shift float I have found nothing better than a good-sized bottle cork, into which a cut has been made with a sharp knife or razor, extending from the side to the centre of the cork. Into this cut the line is drawn as shown in Fig. 4, A.
Fig. 6.
Sheet-lead is always a useful aid in make-shift fishing-tackle, and for light lines makes excellent sinkers when bent and compressed around the line, as shown at Fig. 4, B.
For a pole nothing is nicer than a light and straight piece of the aromatic sweet-birch. I am not a convert to hundred-dollar fishing-poles with polished mountings, but have reasons to still believe there is much virtue in birch.
For cleaning out a boat a stiff whisk-broom made of fine birch twigs bound together with wire or fishing-line, as shown at Fig. 5, will be found very useful.
Fig. 6, A and B are hand-made sinkers beaten and carved out of old lead pipe. The carved one, B, is first roughed out with a jackknife and finished up with fine emery or sand paper. A is beaten into shape with a railroad spike on an anvil or smooth stone. This beating and carving of lead is very pleasant work, the lead being of such an easy and good-natured temper.
Fig. 7.
For a cheap and easily obtainable bailer I have made use of an empty tomato or corned beef can, as shown in Fig. 7. A hole sufficiently large to admit of the handle is punched in the side of the can, the inside end of the handle is champered off so as to fit close to the inner side of the can; through the can and into the end of the handle a stout nail is driven, as at A.
A good bait for large fish is a strip cut from the under side of a small pickerel, perch, or sunfish, which is placed on the hook as shown in Fig. 8.
Fig. 8.
For black bass I have found the black field and house crickets most excellent bait. Within the last two weeks I have taken good messes of horned pouts (cat-fish) with set night lines baited with "cat-worms" (so named by the inhabitants of the lake where I am camping). These "cat-worms" are those elderly, corpulent, and well-to-do angle-worms, that pay their respects to one another on dewy, moonlight nights. When using angle-worms I place them in damp moss for three days, to rid them of all earthy matter; this toughens them so that they may be run on the hook with more certainty and less bother; and, besides, they have more squirm in them, which is a decided gain.
