CHAPTER VIII.
Dab Kinzer and his friend were prompt enough in coming to the rescue of their unfortunate fellow-crabber; but to get him out of the queer wreck he had made of that punt was a tough task.
"I isn't drownin'," exclaimed Dick, heroically, as the other boat came up beside him. "Jest you take yer scoop-net an' save dem crabs."
"They wont drown," said Ford.
"But they'll get away," said Dab, snatching the scoop. "Dick's head is level on that point."
The side boards of the old punt were under water half the time, but the crabs were pretty well penned in. Even a couple of them that had mistaken Dick's wool for another sheep's-head were secured without difficulty.
"What luck he'd been having!" said Ford. "He always does," said Dab. "I say, Dick, how'll I scoop you in?"
"Has you done got all de crabs?"
"Every pinner of 'em."
"Den jest you wait a minute."
They were quite likely to wait, for the shining black face had instantly disappeared.
"Sunk!" exclaimed Ford.
"There he comes," replied Dab. "He'd swim ashore from here, and not half try. Why, I could swim twice as far as that, myself."
"Could you? I couldn't."
That was the first time Dab had heard his new acquaintance make a confession of inability, and he could see a more than usually thoughtful expression on his face. The coolness and skill of Dick Lee had not been thrown away on him.
"If I had my clothes off," said Ford, "I'd try that on."
"Dab Kinzer, you's de best feller dar is. Wot'll we do wid de ole boat?" burst out Dick on coming to the surface.
"Let the tide carry her in while we're crabbing. She isn't worth mending, but we'll tow her home."
"All right," said Dick, as he grasped the gun-wale of Dab's boat and began to climb over.
"Hold on, Dick."
"I is a-holdin' on."
"I mean wait a bit. Aint you wet?"
"Ob course I's wet."
"Well, then, you stay in there till you get dry. It's well you didn't have your new clothes on."
"Aint I glad about dem!" emphatically exclaimed the young African. "Nebber mind dese clo'es. De water on 'em's all good, dry water, like de res' ob de bay."
And, so saying, Dick tumbled over in, with a spatter which made Ford Foster tread on two or three crabs in getting away from it. It was not the first time by many that Dick Lee had found himself bathing without time given him to undress.
And now it was discovered that the shipwrecked crabber had never for one instant loosened his hold of the line to the other end of which was fastened his precious sheep's-head.
It was a regular crabbing crew, two to pull up and one to scoop in, and never had the sprawling "game" been more plentiful on that crab pasture, or more apparently in a hurry to be captured.
"What on earth shall we do with them all?" asked Ford.
"Soon's we've got a mess for both our folks, we'll quit this and go for some fish," replied Dab. "The clams are good bait, and we can try some of your tackle."
Ford's face brightened a good deal at the suggestion, for he had more than once cast a crestfallen look at his pretentious box. But he replied:
"A mess! How many crabs can one man eat?"
"I don't know," said Dab. "It depends a good deal on who he is. Then, if he eats the shells, he can't take in so many."
"Eat de shells? Yah, yah, yah! Dat beats my mudder! She's allers a-sayin' wot a waste de shells make," laughed Dick. "I jest wish we might ketch some fish. I dasn't kerry home no crabs."
"It does look as if we'd got as many as we'd know what to do with," remarked Dab, as he looked down on the sprawling multitude in the bottom of the boat. "We'll turn the clams out of the basket and fill that; but we mustn't put any crabs in the fish-car. We'll stow 'em forward."
The basket held more than half a bushel, but there was a "heap" of what Ford Foster called "the crusties" to pen up in the bow of the boat.
That duty attended to, and Dick was set at the oars, while Dab selected from Ford's box just the very hooks and lines their owner had made least account of.
"What'll we catch, Dab?"
"Most anything. Nobody knows till he's done it. Perch, porgies, cunners, black-fish, weak-fish, may be a bass or a sheep's-head, but more cunners than anything else, except we strike some flounders at the turn of the tide."
"That's a big enough assortment to set up a fish-market on."
"If we catch 'em. We've got a good enough day, anyhow, and the tide'll be about right by the time we get to work."
"Why not try here?"
"'Cause there's no fish to speak of, and because the crabs'll clean your hook for you as fast as you can put the bait on. We must go out to deeper water and better bottom. Dick knows just where to go. You might hang your line out all day and not get a bite, if you didn't strike the right spot."
Ford made no answer, for it was beginning to dawn upon him that he could teach the "long-shore boys," black or white, very little about fishing. He even allowed Dab to pick out a line for him and put on the hook and sinker, and Dick Lee showed him how to fix his bait, "So de fust cunner dat rubs agin it wont knock it off. Dem's awful mean fish. Good for nuffin but steal bait."
A merry party they were, and the salt water was rapidly drying from the garments of the colored oarsman, as he pulled strongly and skillfully out into the bay and around toward a deep cove to the north of the inlet mouth.
Then, indeed, for the first time in his life, Ford Foster learned what it was to catch fish.
Not but what he had spent many an hour, and even day, in and about other waters: but he had never had two such born fishermen at his elbow to take him to the right place precisely, and then to show him what to do when he got there.
Fun enough, for the fish bit well, and some of them were of very encouraging size and weight.
Ford would have given half the hooks and lines in his box if he could have caught from Dick or Dab the curious "knack" they seemed to have of coaxing the biggest of the finny folks to their bait and then over into the boat.
"Never mind, Ford," said Dab; "Dick and I are better acquainted with 'em. They're always a little shy with strangers at first. They don't really mean to be impolite."
Still, it almost looked like some sort of favoritism, and there was no danger but that Dick would be able to appease the mind of his mother without making any mention of the crabs.
At last, almost suddenly, and as if by common consent, the fish stopped biting, and the two "'long-shore boys" began to put away their lines.
"Going to quit?" asked Ford.
"Time's up and tide's turned," responded Dab. "Not another bite, most likely, till late this evening. Might as well pull up and go home."
"Mus' look for wot's lef ob de ole scow on de way home," said Dick. "I'se boun' to ketch it for dat good-for-not'in' ole board."
"We'll find it and tow it in," said Dab, "and perhaps we can get it mended. Anyhow, you can go with us next week. We're going to make a cruise in Ham Morris's yacht. Will you go?"
"Will I go? Yoop!" almost yelled the excited boy. "Dat's jest de one t'ing I'd like to jine. Wont we hab fun! She's jest de bes' boat on dis hull bay. You aint foolin' me, is yer?"
He was strongly assured that his young white associates were in sober earnest about both their purpose and their promise, and, after that, he insisted on rowing all the distance home.
On the way, the old punt was taken in tow; but the tide had swept it so far inside the mouth of the inlet, that there was less trouble in pulling it the rest of the way. It was hardly worth the labor, but Dab knew what a tempest the loss of it might bring around the ears of poor Dick.
When they reached the landing and began to overhaul their very brilliant "catch," Dabney said:
"Now, Dick, take your string home, leave that basket of crabs at Mr. Foster's, then come back with the basket and carry the rest to our house. Ford and I'll see to the rest of the fish."
"I haven't caught half so many as you have, either of you," said Ford, as he saw with what even-handed justice the fish were divided, in three piles, as they were scooped out of the "fish-car."
"What of that?" replied Dabney. "We follow fisherman's rules down this way. Share and share alike, you know. All the luck is outside the boat, they say. Once the fish are landed, your luck's as good as mine."
"Do they always follow that rule?"
"The man that broke it wouldn't find company very easily, hereabouts, next time he wanted to go a-fishing. No, nor for anything else. Nobody'd boat with him."
"Well, if it's the regular thing," said Ford, hesitatingly. "But I'll tell who really caught 'em."
"Oh, some of yours are right good ones. Your string would look big enough, some days. Don't you imagine you can pull 'em in every time like we did this morning. Crabs nor fish, either."
"No, I s'pose not. Anyhow, I've learned some things."
"I guess likely. We'll go for some more next week. Now for a tug!"
The boat had already been made fast, and the two boys picked up their strings of fish, two for each, after Dick Lee had started for home, and heavy ones they were to carry under that hot sun.
"Come and show the whole lot to my mother," said Ford, "before you take yours into the house. I want her to see them all."
"All right," replied Dab. But he little dreamed of what was coming, for, when he and Ford marched proudly into the sitting-room with their finny prizes, Dabney found himself face to face with, not good, sweet-voiced Mrs. Foster, but, as he thought, the most beautiful young lady he had ever seen.
Ford Foster shouted: "Annie! you here? Well, I never!"
But Dab Kinzer wished all those fish safely back again, swimming in the bay.
(To be continued.)
[THE STORY OF PERSEUS.]
(Adapted from the German.)
By Mary A. Robinson.
Many gods and goddesses were worshiped by the ancient Greeks and Romans, but, besides these, they also believed in demigods, so called because, according to tradition, their parentage was half divine and half human. These beings were generally distinguished for beauty, strength, valor or other noble qualities. The stories of their adventures told by ancient writers are as interesting as fairy-tales, and are so often represented in painting and sculpture, and mentioned in books, that it is well for every one to know something about them.
Perseus, one of these demigods, was the son of Jupiter, the highest of the gods, and of Danaë, a mortal woman. It had been prophesied to Danaë's father, Acrisius, king of Argos, that a grandson would take from him both his throne and life, and he therefore caused Danaë and her child to be shut up in a wooden box and thrown into the sea. The box was caught in the net of a fisherman of the isle of Seriphos, by whom its inmates were put safely on shore. The king of the island, whose name was Polydectus, afterward took Danaë under his special care, and brought up her son as if he had been his own.
When Perseus had grown to be a young man, the king urged him to go in search of adventures, and set him the task of bringing him the head of the terrible Gorgon named Medusa. Perseus asked the aid of the gods for this expedition, which he felt obliged to make, and in answer to his prayers, Mercury and Minerva, the patrons of adventurers, led him to the abode of the Grææ, the woman-monsters, so called because they had been born with gray hair. Perseus, compelled them to show him where lived the nymphs who had in charge the Helmet of Hades, which rendered its wearer invisible. They introduced Perseus to the nymphs, who at once furnished him with the helmet, and gave him, besides, the winged shoes and the pouch, which he also needed for his task. Then came Mercury, and gave him the Harpe, or curved knife, while Minerva bestowed upon him her polished shield, and showed him how to use it in approaching the Gorgons, that he should not be turned into stone at the sight of them.
Perseus donned his shoes and helmet, and flew until he reached the abode of the Gorgons. These were three hideous daughters of Phorcus, and sisters of the Grææ. One only of them, Medusa, was mortal. Perseus found the monsters asleep. They were covered with dragon scales, and had writhing serpents instead of hair, and, besides these charms, they had huge tusks like those of a boar, brazen hands and golden wings. Whoever looked on them was immediately turned to stone, but Perseus knew this and gazed only on their reflection in his shield. Having thus discovered Medusa, without harm to himself, he cut off her head with his curved knife. Perseus dropped the head of Medusa into the pouch slung over his shoulder, and went quickly on his way. When Medusa's sisters awoke, they tried to pursue the young demigod, but the helmet hid him from their sight and they sought him in vain.
At length he alighted in the realm of King Atlas, who was of enormous stature and owned a grove of trees that bore golden fruit, and were guarded by a terrible dragon. In vain did the slayer of Medusa ask the king for food and shelter. Fearful of losing his golden treasure, Atlas refused the wanderer entertainment in his palace. Upon this Perseus became enraged, and taking the head of Medusa from his pouch, held it toward the huge king, who was suddenly turned to stone. His hair and beard changed to forests, his shoulders, hands and bones became rocks, and his head grew up into a lofty mountain-peak. Mount Atlas, in Africa, was believed by the ancients to be the mountain into which the giant was transformed.
Perseus then rose into the air again, continued his journey, and came to Ethiopia, where he beheld a maiden chained to a rock that jutted out into the sea. He was so enchanted with her loveliness that he almost forgot to poise himself in the air with his wings. At last, taking off his helmet so that he and his politeness might be perceived, he said: "Pray tell me, beauteous maiden, what is thy country, what thy name, and why thou art here in bonds?"
The weeping maiden blushed at sight of the handsome stranger, and replied:
"I am Andromeda, daughter of Cepheus, king of this country. My mother boasted to the nymphs, daughters of Nereus, that she was far more beautiful than they. This roused their anger, and they persuaded Neptune, their friend, to make the sea overflow our shores and send a monster to destroy us. Then an oracle proclaimed that we never should be rid of these evils until the queen's daughter should be given for the monster's prey. The people forced my parents to make the sacrifice, and I was chained to this rock."
As she ceased speaking the waves surged and boiled, and a fearful monster rose to the surface. The maiden shrieked in terror, just as her parents came hastening to her in hopeless anguish, for they could do nothing but weep and moan.
Then Perseus told them who he was, and boldly proposed to rescue the maiden if they would promise to give her to him as his wife.
The king and queen, eager to save Andromeda, at once agreed to this, and said they would give him not only their daughter, but also their own kingdom as her dowry.
Meanwhile, the monster had come within a stone's throw of the shore, so Perseus flew up into the air, put on his helmet, pounced down upon the creature, and killed it, after a fierce struggle. He then sprang ashore and loosed the bonds of Andromeda, who greeted him with words of thanks and looks of love. He restored her to the arms of her delighted parents, and entered their palace a happy bridegroom.
Soon the wedding festivities began, and there was general rejoicing. The banquet was not yet over, however, when a sudden tumult arose in the court of the palace. It was caused by Phineus, brother of Cepheus, who had been betrothed to his niece Andromeda, but had failed her in her hour of need. He now made his appearance with a host of followers and clamored for his bride.
But Cepheus arose and cried:
"Brother, art thou mad? Thou didst lose thy bride when she was given up to death before thy face. Why didst thou not then win back the prize? Leave her now to him who fought for her and saved her."
Phineus held his peace, but cast furious looks both at his brother and at Perseus, as if hesitating which to strike first. Finally, with all his might, he threw a spear at Perseus, but missed the mark. This was the signal for a general combat between the guests and servants of Cepheus and Phineus and his followers. The latter were the more numerous, and at last Perseus was quite surrounded by enemies. He fought valiantly, however, striking down his opponents one after another, until he saw that he could not hold out to the end against such odds. Then he made up his mind to use his last, but surest, means of defense, and crying, "Let those who are my friends turn away their faces," he drew forth the head of Medusa and held it toward his nearest adversary.
"Seek thou others," cried the warrior, "whom thou mayst frighten with thy miracles!"
But in the very act of lifting his spear he grew stiff and motionless as a statue. The same fate came upon all who followed, till at last Phineus repented of his unjust conduct. All about him he saw nothing but stone images in every conceivable posture. He called despairingly upon his friends and laid hands on those near him; but all were silent, cold and stony. Then fear and sorrow seized him, and his threats changed to prayers.
"Spare me—spare my life!" he cried to Perseus, "and bride and kingdom shall be thine!"
But Perseus was not to be moved to mercy, for his friends had been killed before his very face. So Phineus shared the doom of his followers and was turned to stone.
After these events Perseus and Andromeda were married, and together they journeyed to Seriphos, where they heard that the king had been ill-treating Danaë. When, therefore, the tyrant assembled his court to see how Perseus had done his task, the son avenged his mother's wrongs by petrifying the assemblage—king, courtiers and all! Then he gave back to the nymphs the helmet, shoes and pouch they had lent to him, returned the knife to Mercury, and presented Minerva with Medusa's head, which ever after she wore upon her shield.
With his mother and his wife Perseus then sought his timid grandfather Acrisius, and found him, not in his own realm of Argos, but at Larisa, the city of King Teutamias, looking on at some public games. Perseus must needs meddle in the exercises, and so managed to fulfill the old prophecy and accidentally slay his grandfather by an unlucky throw of the discus, a kind of flat quoit.
Perseus, who deeply mourned his grandfather's fate, soon exchanged the kingdom of Argos for Tiryns, and there founded the city of Mycenæ. He lived very happily with his wife, and ruled his kingdom long and wisely.
[THE STORY LITTLE NELL READ.]
Nell's mother had gone away for a long visit, and had left her little girl with grandma, who loved her so much and was so kind to her that Nell was very happy and very good,—except sometimes. Her naughty times were lesson-times. Grandma, who lived in the country, far away from schools, taught Nell herself; and Nell didn't like it.
That was queer, too, for she dearly loved stories—when grandma read them—and could lie down on the soft rug before the fire, and play with the kitty, and just listen. But when she had to sit up in a chair by the table, and read for herself,—out loud, so that grandma could be sure she got all the long words right,—she would look so cross that it made grandma sad to see her, and long for a way to cure her little girl's naughty temper.
She did find a way. One day, she came home from the store with a beautiful new book, all red and gold outside, and full of pictures within. "There!" she said to Nell, "you'll surely like to read that!" But Nell didn't think so, and, when grandma opened the book and asked her to read the middle story, she looked crosser than ever.
"Why, it's the story of 'A Naughty Girl!'" she said. "I don't believe I'll like that, grandma." But grandma said nothing; only looked as if she were listening very hard, and Nell read on:
"Once up-on a time, there was a naught-y lit-tle girl. She had been naught-y so long that two lit-tle frowns had grown quite fast to her eyebrows, and the cor-ners of her mouth turn-ed down so tight that she on-ly had room for a lit-tle bit of a smile, which did not come ver-y oft-en, be-cause it felt so crowd-ed; and, when she was ver-y an-gry, it just slip-ped a-way al-to-geth-er—"
"Stop there!" said grandma, in such a funny tone that Nell looked up to see what she meant. Grandma stood beside her, holding a little mirror so that Nell could not help seeing her own face in it.
She looked and looked, and her face grew as red as the cover of her book, and she wanted to cry, but at last she thought better of it, and, looking up shyly, said:
"Grandma, I know! I'd do for a picture to put to this girl's story! My face is just like that! But see now!"—and she opened her eyes very wide, and raised up her eyebrows so far that the two little frowns in them got frightened and tumbled off, and the wee smile that came to her lips found so much room that it stretched itself into a real good laugh, and grandma laughed too, and they were very merry all that day.
"THE FROWNS TUMBLED OFF."
Grandma's little mirror taught Nell a lesson, and now, when she feels the frowns coming back, she lifts her eyebrows almost up to her hair, and runs for her red book, and she and grandma both laugh to think how Nell was made into a picture to fit the naughty girl's story.
[JACK-IN-THE-PULPIT.]
Well, here's July come again, warm and bright and happy, and the children of the Red School-house are as busy as bees getting ready for the Fourth. I suppose you are, too, my dears. Have as good a time as you can, and help some other body to have a good time, too. But don't blow yourselves up, for that is not the proper way to rise in the world.
For my part, I don't quite see the use of burning so much gunpowder by way of celebrating the Fourth of July. From all I can make out, the mere making sure of that day burned up quite enough of it.
But then, I'm only a peaceable Jack-in-the-Pulpit, and, of course, I can't be expected to understand all these things.
Now, to work! But take it coolly and quietly, my dears. Don't treat business as though it were a lighted fire-cracker with a short fuse.
First comes a message from Deacon Green about