Evening Star Newspaper, June 20, 1926, Page 84

6 THE JOB THE SUNDAY STAR, W Pl CAPTAIN DINGLE Bob Had Courage and Skill, But Lacked Presence and Dignity. 2o seaward and ship the men who man And if the little sits aloft stays on the job ls and souls may never Tall trouble. But to the end that f they meet it, may fall destroying them—ships and are other jobs, unob- which must be stayed the eleme the HIPS home too hi hem, cherub foul of sub) nort of thers 1 jobs with though heavens clash and utterly Lifeboat men. On so life-sav belong to enlisted service. lifeboat 1 are bought > by volun- s are rare- of duty nol medal, so} But, rewa boat men neve d hat g0 to th, in the visit the earth, the volunte Of such w house keepe fon « god hoat- the storms b was urned to g nial mu: Tord dyed | against had long dh erns rimmed. and veady. hing planks and free from accumulated d nd. lis was the only paid job, and the pay was scanty; but there was a bit of garden, a bit of a_ground where he could keep his rabbits in wired hutches and a tiny room. as big as a second mate’s cabin in a deep-water #hip, where he could stand his sea- chest, hang his bag and hear the sh of the sea on the headland to e west. Sob's custom what by way ¢ the man. In the rleaned out his hed in his garde from his launching wi his lamps. he wore canvas trousers and an old cans unarder” or slip over frock. Both were well weather- proofed with paint, soil and grease; but nowhere was a seam agape, no- where a hole, Sailorly stitches held the seams; a seamanlike patch on ne knee looked as if it might well ontlast not only » trousers but the man It wah § nings that little to do ex v ttire was some- being a reflection of mornings, when he bbit hutches, grub-. swept the sand ¥s and trimmed ifternoons and eve. Then he had nd shore and - doubtful weather. n was pro »h shone. Pt scan sea e eve old blue singie- buttons sed to clean and a atswain's him like a in » stage in Sob Stafford lonely littl the vigil to Cliff, he had a bimk for old briar. ¢ hung The »huilt L Bern swaln's breasted which of their real, visored titted ooden s Vs ripe two picturs stately Lady Bast Indianmen annels faunted insail ¢ T oth 1 ertifi one 1 fArst 1w alleries, to the loft while over ate as to unlimit ocean of et s ito the d at Y e v b would open st tered ap with a wreathed Re g nireo high have their hute night and cover th: Then the rabbits in brot in for the 1 over with Bob's old hex ngs heard uttered Into the pitiful, erooted beard Haven't got the ket biue ) N pre Over sence would mutter gazing into would scowl, against the and the mirror. and his che 1 press out Jacket Iways the end was the same. jacket had to go back to 1o swelling chest re w1 gave place to the expression, and Bob his bed, the boat- Rut Cap and gobe house keeper still 0 NCE on a time he had been young. As smart a young aman as ever rossed a top. Crack ships he fa- vored, like Lady Jocelyn and Leander, He achieved his second mate’s certifi- “DARN YOU! fare for his own chance. ¢ | “Your turn wil sed | But he was not |smiling when a command’ was to be | given out. and Urdal secured it. Had /it been only that, Bob Stafford might ill have found heart to smile, for Urdal had secured his master |ticket while Bob had not. Bob still |lacked the necessary experience as |actual first mate at sea, although he | held the certiticate. Urdal had got that begth instead, but_surely Bob's time must come when John Urial rose to command. The smile became bitter when yet another man was promoted to be chief officer in I's place, afford was left standing second mate, He had pre- himself before the great man ave out captalncies, who might or break a man. come, Mr. Stafford,” ‘There wlll be | make he was told no doubt. For our first But I have served in ships all my time, sir, rupted angril he great man smiled in a queer | fashion at that, and delivered himself of the final statement that broke a | thoroughly good ng sailorman. ] e e 1ot a big enough man, Mr. You lack the perso y »sence. Our ships carry 1 ssengers of importance. Our com- manders must carry themselves with dignity. You will do well to leave vour er in our hands. We not_unmindful of faithful service en at 65 years of age Bob rd could recall every word and gesture of that interview. He re- membered the look on the great man's | tlorid face at his audaclous retort: { “And you, sir, would do well |see to it that yvour fine commanders of presence and dignity have svfie- thing else with which to guarantee the safety of your ships. Seaman ship and navigation have been known to prove useful, when even digni and presence fell short in a pinch.” Sometimes a feeling of triumph went with that memory. But it rarely lived long. There were the long, fruitless years that had followed the dismissal as inevitably as the dis- missal followed the retort. There was the memory of failure; of ship after ship tried, of man after man going ¢ his head, of hearing vet again at scorching explanation when he protested | “Not big enough. Our commanders must have dignity, presence.” Bob had made the mistake of per- sisting in the fine first-class ships. He might have risen to command in ships of lesser importance. But what man of pride would descend in the | scales? Rather he would have it |known that he retired from the sea to accept a shore position * k¥ “Bob had E lay wakeful in his bed that | night. At the base of the head- {1and to the westward the surf had be- gun to thunder before sunset Boh got up and dressed. A glance outside showed him little but blackened fiving scud and gleaming sea-crests. The sand whispered under the tread of mizhty surf. Above the headland |a 1antern glimmered. Somebody up there was wakeful, too. The door opened and the coxswain ~ lifeboat dripped in. He swung ou'wester and sat on the sea. chest as Bob pulled on his sea-hoots over the heavy socks and took down + lighted lantern from a hook owin' up dirty,” the lof t a wet said Bob Stafford grunted in reply, added something about going to take a look at the hoat in its shed and tramped ont of the shack. S cik. Sand fle the beach. unbroken in its c d, seaweed-laden, ac 1ing ways to burst against the | It swirled about Bob deep, hurling him crashing the door. His lantern was instinctively, and did not go out. Two more men staggered down to the . They entered -ozy quarters, while the owner puttered about the boat, carefully looking to lines and oars, sails and short spa “Allus on the job 10use. hey. old feller?” oared. well, us was a good man in a boat, lion. ceol and powerful, | but he was too free with his hands, | his tongue and that boisterous laugh. | e whacked old Bob on the back as scowled and half turned but thought better of the tmpulse and hung up his lantern. He lighted his pipe, sat on his sea- hest and silently listened to the Jow- | toned talk. Only Ike's voice rose high. He could no more help that | than the storm could help howling | outside. sea rolling in from th’ to | coxswain | “If you touch me again, Tke [er. gus, I'll - e roared again with laughter, dodging with comical exaggeration the old man’s waving fists. It made Bob furious. He pushed a fist under Ike's higr red nose and the first quivered un- der the restraint timat held it back. Ike stepped back and fell. “Darn yve! Stand up and I'll fight ve!” screamed Bob. “Go away, old man!” yelled Ike. “Hey, you chaps, haul him off afore he hurts hisself. Go away, I tell you!” he roared as Bob shoved the other fist forward and both menaced bis tormentor’s face. “I aln’t goin’ to fight you. You ain't big enough. You— | RBob's fist smacked home on the { ze of Ike's nos and Ike got up, | d, while the old man howled: ay that and I'll— I've been told you put yer I ain’t big ——! You Why, at_all my life! hands up and enough Now| it rgus backed away. Other aught hold of Bob and pulled way, soothing his ruffled feel- s well as they could. not easy. Ike's thought- less jibe recalled so many memories v |down’ the years. { * * | /PP HE sprays hit the shack now every In the harder gusts The few minutes. real water struck the shutters. wind moaned around tF instde the shack all | warm. Two more of the lifeboat crew | cume down, too interested in the pos- | stbilities of the storm to sleep. One told of a light seen to southwest. It was nothing to worry about. When the coast guard telephoned to the boathouse it would be time enough for the boatmen to show interest. “/Member the gale o’ ninety-seven the broad, dark man ventured. No need to say which gale. Every man there had been concerned in that gale; and there had been others who Were not there now. ‘the men talked it over for the fiftieth time, in short sentences and reverent tones. old Bob Stafford, once started on the sub- ject of his pets, forgot all about his anger, about the other men, about everything except his rabbits, his job and the least ugly of his memories. While his old ears were keenly alert to sounds of storm or the ringing of rabbit hutches, sticking bits of green stuff through the wire netting, hum- ming bits of his old fore-bitter. And | the men talking over the old storm Jowered thelr voices still more so that they might not spoil the old fellow’s | singing “The cappen, his honor, looked down on her, Ran down the ship’s side to assist her on board; And he said, with emotion, “What son of the ocean Is lucky enough to be loved o' Peg Ford” Peg thus she gave answer, ‘This here is my man, sir; I'll make him as rich and as fine as when he . said the cappen, ‘can’t very well happen We've got salling Grady, aboard. Old Bob had gpt as far as— “‘Avast” says the lady, ‘don't mind him, Hal Grady You once was his man, but T'll have vou at large’ orders — you, i | when the shack door burst open in a | volley of sand-laden sea, and two more { men tumbled in, streaming with wet { and panting for breath. “Wires are down!" one panted “Ship backstrapped under the head- the other gasped, squeezing the ter from his eyes with his knuc | kle: | " “She’ll never clear th' Ledge i The men rowded in the doorway, | peering seaward. There was no light {to relieve the walllike blackness of the night; but as they watched, pep- pered by the spray, a thin thread of | fire soared aloft by the outer Ledges, | burst high in the air and was splashed against the sooty sky in a golden liquid volley. “She's struck!” snapped. There was no need fo give orders. The tall. lean man plunged toward the boathouse and his crew trooped at his heels. Ike Fergus was among the first. His loud laugh, his raucous speech, his whanging fist were part of the man; another part was courage and pride of place. Tke made enemles, but even they would not withhold from him the name of a brave man and fine boatman. The boathouse doors were open, the | hauloff rope in place, lanterns glim mered and Old Bob Stafford was in there puttering around, humming his interminable fore-bitter. Swift as had the coxswaln STAND UP AND I'LL FIGHT YE!” SCREAMED BOB. cate and secured a third mate's berth. Then a first mate's ticket was won, and a second mate’s job; all in crack ships of great companies. Other voung men had started alongside of him. Some went ahead. some fell behind, some kept pace with him. He never compl his senlor, or even step ahead of him. He only felt badly, still not com- plaining, when John Urdal, two vears jor to him, was given the chief billet in the Lady Jocelyn over lis head. With the quiet smile that characterized him then, he congratu- luted Urdal and settled down to wait his equal, got a ned when a man a bit | 1 | suthard,” the coxswain muttered be- tween puffs of smoke. | He was tall and lean, and seemed | built of whalebone and whipcord. No- | body would ever dream of ascribing his anxious tone to fear. | " “The outer ledges are sest bilin’,” | broad, dark man said. “Just th’ sort o’ night for noble old sailormen like Bob, ain’t it, Bob?” roared Ike, whanging his great fist down on the old fellow’s bowed back again. Rog sprang to his feet, chattering with rage. He stood over Ike, shaking | his fists, | been the others, Old Bob was there ahead of them, unostentatiously, cool- I efficiently golng about his humble job. “You sha'n't go aboard her, for all that chap's orders.’ And_out of her bosom she lugged his discharge.” Bob had a habit of taking up the sequence of his songs no matter what interruption broke in upon them. And the while he watched seaward, listen- ing for the coxswain's orders, he ‘worked at his job. The rocket-lines were placed ready, and the breeches buoys, in case the boat was set aside . the telephone, he puttered about the | | | {in favor of them. But the boat was ready, only waiting for the crew to |ing villagers to man the haul-off. Al- ready the storm-drenched beach was thick with people. And on such shores it is not hope of gain that brings men and women folk out of their snug and secure beds when ships are in trouble » W Another in gun! “TIIER E goes a shrieked rocket!” voices chorus outside The sullen boom of a signal gun and |the golden thread of a rocket, both coming out of a blacks mass beyond the Ledges, drew attention to flittering lights out there which came and went |in & scattered, broken sort of code |as if the great seas between ship and shore intervened inopportunely. “She’s signaling she's helpless! cried a woman, who had long ago seen her man rolled ashore out of such a night, helpless for eve “Too far out for the breeches-buoy muttered the broad, dark man. “Aboard th' boat, lads!” the co swain snapped crisply, and the crew, | cork-facketed and barefoot, clambered |in. Two men gripped oars the others tood up, ready to step masts and set | the lugs. The coxswain had his yoke- lines at hand, but slipped the long cteering-sweep into fts rowlock in | readine. Old Bob Stafford com- manded the haul-off gang. “Let one o' the young 'uns take that roared Ike Fergus. Ike was eager for the tussle. o jibe. “Now, lads, run her down!” the coxswain. “But th' Cappen was jealous looked down his nose,” | Bob sang. and started the hoat down |the greased slide while volunteers | gathered in the slack and ran away with the rope. With a rush and a roaring swoop ithe lifeboat took the sea. The two oarsmen pulled desperately to keep her off the beach until the small lug- salls were set. The folk who had hauled her off stood with the rope in their hands, tensely watching the fluttering pale patches against the blackness. The boat shone white against the sea, until a breaker envel oped it, then all was white. Only those pale fluttering bits of sail agalnst the black sky told of a fight gallantly sustained. Old Bob Stafford stood in the fore- front of the throng, keeping an eye upon every bit of the scene. ““'Nother rocket!” a voice screamed. N a gun!” Out of the blackest storm cloud shot a blinding flash of lightning. In the next breath the thunder crashed. In spite of thelr familiarity with such scenes the women gasped, screamed— but ashamedly. In the lightning glare the ship had been sighted, and the Iifeboat. “Full'rig ship!” somebody shouted “One o' them big colonial packets!” another surmised. “The boat’s won clear,” muttered old Bob Stafford, and turned to look after his job. There were more lanterns to light, many heaving lines to get down, poles and boathooks. The boathouse must be ready to receive survivors. There might be no mishaps, but, again, there might. Bob had to see to it that how- ever men came ashore out of that ship, they would be received accord- ingly. Habit sent him first to the inner- most corner, where he prepared sails and old canvas, There might be some dead. The dead would require no com- fort, but they were entitled to respect. There might be injured. For hurt men blankets and head rests were likely to be needed. These were pre- pared in a lighter corner. And there might be women. Bob saw the rest done, and plodded off to prepare his own tiny quarters for the decent re- ception of women. “Then she got a_shore tallor to rig out her sailor In fine nankeen trousers and long- tafled blue coat; And he looked like a squire, for her to admire, WI' a bandanner hankercher tied ‘round his throat.” Bob sang as he hauled off the blan- kets from his bed and shook them. He turned them and put them back. It was all the change he could make. His pillow cover was turned, too, and, since there might be more than one woman, and he had no more accom- modation, he bundled up his best facket, wrapped a clean shirt around it and placed it at the foot of the bed. His guests would have to lie heads and_tails until the doctor came, if needed, or the villagers took them away. \ Another gun boomed out' as Bob surveyed his place. Then he returned to the boathouse to take up his vigil again. “The boat's got to windward o' the Ledge,” the cripple shouted. “We seen it in th’ lightnin’ flash,” a woman laughed hysterically. “There!" shrieked another, as a streak like molten steel shot athwart the sooty heavens, setting sea and ship and sky ablaze. - Then followed the cracking peal of thunder, its note so metallic that It | rope. Bob! He barked and | ASHINGTO | take their places and the fast-gather- | D. C., JUNE 20, “JUMP, CAPN, JUMP! 1926 PART 5. WE CAN'T HOLD ON MUCH LONGER!" sang in the ears for minutes after- ward A stunted cedar, torn from the head |1and by the gale, whirled down past the boathouse, sprinkling the crowd with flying sofl and sand. 1In the illumination of the lightning the stranded ship had been clearly seen, partly dismasted, swept by tremen- dous seas that roiled straight onward to shore, bea: bits of wrecky The tiny daneing speck at her must be the lifeboat, fighting for po- sition. Men and women e&pread out along the shore as the first wreckage came in, holding hands lines with each litt) watching all things flung up ws find. Fager urf a broken be sur- sheer t announced a wgged from the s chicken coop, with one scraggy, draggled, half-drowned hen in it vivor of the voyage through unfitness as food. Folk greeted it with ughter. They were 1 too | wrought up to be able to control im pulses. Old Bob took the hen in his arms, clucking to it; bearing it to his | shack and giving it room in a rabbit hutch. He returned to his watch They told him the boat was leaving the wreck In the next flash of 1 ning he sa it, a fleeing, 2 among the savage combe: a coil of line on one arm, toolk long boathook, and stood mid-thigh deep in the hissing backwash of the breakers, “‘And now, says she, ‘Harry, nest thing, is we'll marry.’ She looked like a siren fair in his brown face. “That’s the ticket." son get ready arter the splice th' mainb Grady, ‘a par: And long splics we'll he sing, with muttered chattered another. wreck?" He's ow there?” “He d can a woman n't know,” “Wot, don't know there “Don’t know he's a-singin’. queer, Bob Stafford is.” tand by!” s&creamed the cripple. “She’s rolled over in the surf! There! Watch for the next flash! The cox swain's crazy! * k% ok ERY soon the watchers saw t riding in on the crests every hand was engaged.. itself, non-capsizable in theory, could neverthless be rolled over; and th: | had happened, spilling out everybody. The hoat rode high, just beyond the breakers, soaring landward. Some darlk f part of the crew, clung to her gunwales, steering her end on In the broken water of the beach. heads and arms appeared, to be and dragged to safety, or tobe missed and taken back by the sea until an- other attempt could be made. A lad was dragged clear, wearing a life-pr server. A ship's name showed black and glistening in the lantern light. “Ladywell,” a man read aloud. Old Bob Stafford heard, but made no comment, though he knew the name. It was that of the most modern ship of his old firm; the firm that had told him he lacked dignity, presence. Doubtless somebody having both dig- nity and presence was responsible for the Ladywell being out there on the Ledges. The boat was almost in now. And the people were busier in the surf. Everybody was busy. Tke Fergus staggered out of the welter, his head bloody, holding on tenaciously to an unconsclous woman with silver hai Ike fell, and the sea rolled both ba Bob Stafford was waist-deep in the sea even as lke fell. With sailorly swiftness Bob cast his line about the woman, hove the end ashore and bade Those two were dragged ind ke Fergus, coughing for a moment or two, plunged back in search of others. 0ld Bob fastened the line about his own walst as the boat soared on a crest three rollers from shore. Right in the path of the boat two heads floated, and to them swam Bob. With the life-boat poised murderously over thelr heads, the old chap clapped his sinewy hands into two gray heads and screamed to the men to drag on his line. Over and over they rolled in the surf; in swooped the boat. By inches the men guiding the boat kept her end on, and by inches she missed braining old Bob with his two gray heads. “One’s the coxswain!" cried a man with a lantern, peering into the two white faces. Both of the rescued opened their eyes. ““p other’s—"" “T knbw, one swift glance. you?” “The captain and four hands are out there still,” said Urdal in a pre- cise, important voice. It was as if he addressed a meeting of dlrectors rather than uttered In- formation regarding a wreck. As if | he took it for granted that he should be known there. The coxswain was battered and half drowned. Those of the crew who were washed ashore first joined those who swam in with the boat. They fought against the seas, trying to keep the boat head on and launch her again. Two men could not make the trip. Old Bob_ Stafford was at the stern before volunteers could be called for. Tle holsted his tough old body aboard, taking the coxswaln's snapped old_Bob, after “John Urdal, ain't wreck | { | | Soon | Most on end in the steep seas The boat | i 1ght | occupies | boat down unt been able to not big place. He had never make the crew. He enough. Now ready hands gave the hoit fmpetus, and nobody cared who the little bareheaded man without a cork jacket might be, standing there at the steering sweep. Another man tumbled aboard, falling at the feet of Tke Fergus, who was already there with a new oar, bloody head and all, roaring to know what the delay wa: about “Run her down, bullles!” screamed old Bob, hair fiying, old face alight. * ¥ ¥ * MEMORY came to him of a cer tain Hooghly cyclone, of a ship's | manned by apprentices, cox- ined by a small second mate who s later told that he lacked dignity. | presence, size for promotion. Of that beat scouring the death-strewn river for Ifving among the dead. Of bring- ing in 12 people, when bigger men in | bigger craft dared not go a-seeking. The hands ashore rushed the life- ey were off thelr | feet. The hauloff line had not been recovered. The man who had tum- bled aboard at Tke Fergus' feet was a cripple. He swung stroke oar, with white as chalkk and teeth wed, his gaze fixed steadfastly upon the face of Bob Stafford, seeing only in the lightning flashes, but hold | and cursed Bob. ing his gaze. And the boat was afloat The storm ed, drowning the ‘ries of those on the beach “Break yer backs, bullle for the one who bus old Bob., lke Fergus k now. A medal | " velped | that voice | " he howled “IWh a reg’lar man take that sweep! But lke pulled llke a hero, swear- ing at the men at his back, shouting profanity at the cripple and at old Bob in front of him. The masts and sails had been whipped out of the boat rolling over. Now it was a stubborn pull to | windward, with gale th. screamed | down upon the murderous Ledges, and a sea born of a thousand miles of truvel “Bend ver backs, m' lads' Men ahoa that ship!” Bob bellowed, hend- ing his own back to the steering | sweep. The hpat goared and plunged, al- The couldn't = | to | the sigh spray rattled upo backs of the forws Bob could make out the ship. The white susf churning over her outlined her. »me genius ashore had lighted a driftwood fire in the shelter of a sand dune and the blaze lighted up the beach and the swift moving little black creatures which were really people. Thetr house it wor greater any first rater, W' sarvants out drink; a garden to go in, wi' flowers all a-blowin’, Jess'man and lily and pink Bob sang that verse whi boat battled to escape t in the ship's lee. A Ia nor in uniform handing Wi* and sunflower ern hung in the rigging of the solitary standing | mazs of | bris of spars | mast, and it shone upon a tangled wire and steel, d rigging, pounding the broken The cripple gritted his teeth That was no time flowers, k, with hu- to sing of pinks and tering on eternity’s b man lives yet to save. Five men stood at lashed to the lea rail The lantern light touched them with a radiance. Four of them were ing, eager, shouting unheard words the boat. The fifth man stood ong, full of ¥ of death, ordering or adv arm gesture, disdaining futile the slde, all ect, Ing by speech. “Jump! 1 can't get mnearer! screamed old Bob, erect at his steer- fng oar. clapping hand to mustac and beard in his frenzy of e ment Four men cast adrift their iashings. | The fifth remained dignified and sti after simply waving acknowledg- ment A Tke and another in_ their oars and breathless man jumped. of the crew took hauled him in, bruised A glant sea roared across the deck of the wi k A second man, swept away, was recovered with one hand cut to a hanging sinew by the rope he clutched desperately. The boat was hurled among the tangled debri her planking stove in many place: Then two more men took the leap in panic. They VIRGINIA BILL OF RIGHTS. ntinued from Fourth Page.) lutionary commentator, asserts that “in an Intellectual view” the former a far loftier position. It stands, he states, without a model in ancient or modern times. Grigsby continues: “The bill is the philosophical em- bodiment of the elemental principles which lle at the foundation of so- clety and which, gathered from the universal experience of man and re- fined in the alembic of a mighty mind, are digested and expressed with a dis- tinctness and with a severe simplicity intelligible alike to the young and the old, the unlettered and the wise. The Declaration of Independence is mainly a detail of wrongs so sensibly felt as to justify a enange in govern- ment and therefore easily enumerated, which required as little argument as research, and the supreme merit of which is that a plain tale, which, if badly told, might have made a slight impression on the age, has been adorned with all the graces with which genius could Invest it. It is not in dispute whether Jefferson could have written the Bill of Rights as well as Mason did write it, nor whether Mason could have written the Decla- ation of Independence with the grace of Jefferson. It is whether the Bill of Rights, as a work of intellect, is not a paper of a far higher character than a mere declaration of the rea- sons, however well put forth, which impelled the colonies to separaté from the mother country and to assume | independence. One is the admirable work of the political philosopher; the other is the chaste production of the elegant historian. 1t is the merit of Mason and of Jefferson that both in their respective spheres performed thelr office in such. manner as to call forth the gratitude and admiration of their country."” v Lee goes even further, some too far, for n his strictures upon Jefferson he asserts: “There is more wisdom, more con- densation of thought and energy of reasoning in a single clause of the Virginia Bill of Rights than in all the works of Mr. Jefferson put together. This clause is as follows: ‘That no man or set of men fs entitled to ex- clusive or separate emoluments or privileges from the Commonwealth but in consideration of public serv- ices, which not being descendible, neither ought the offices of magis- trate, leglslator or jusge to be heredi- tary.’ Here is a volume of wit and wisdom for the study of nations em- bodied in a single sentence and ex- pressed in the plainest language. If a deluge of despotism should sweep over the world and destroy those in- stitutions under whicn freedom is yet ‘o(l at a critical moment. protected, sweeping into oblivion ;;frg‘ vestige of l:ihetlf: remembrance ong men, coul is single sen- tence ef Masan's be preserved it would be sumiclent to rekindle the ~ | flame of liberty and revive the race of freemen.” The last act of the Virginia conven- tion of 76 was the adoption of the seal of the Commonwealth that is still used, and its designer was George Mason. And following the signing of the Declaration of Independence, with the American States fully embarked upon their career of independent polit- feal life, he was not idle. He retired at length to his comfortable estate at Gunston Hall, and there in his de- clining yvears the younger statesmen of the young republic gathered to im- bibe the political wisdom of the sage. There he ded October 7. 1792, in the 67th year of his age, and there he lies burled at the side of his beloved wife in the family burying ground his fame secure for all time. ik Detective Paint. DESIGNED to warn mechanicians when engine parts are over- heated, there is a process paint, efkalin, which turns from its light red color to a deep brown at 70 de- grees centigrade and to black at 85 degrees. When the over- heated part is cooled the paint turns back to its normal color. The changing color attracts the atten- tion of those about, and hence gives the opportunity of applying a little The ma- chine itself can be thus saved from complete destruction and all danger of fires from over-heated machinery eliminated. The chemical properties of another paint, acaloMn, stop the heat rays of the sun so that when applied to roofs the rooms below are kept from 15 to 35 degrees cooler. It is a light blue and can be applied to windows where the sun beats down and causes extreme heat, appreciably diminishing the light. It is especially adapted to corru gated iron roofs, which often u the interior of a factory or store- house an unbearable oven in the Summer. Even applled to factory walls, it reduces the temperature of the interfor. It will go far in reducing the temperature of the attic rooms of the Summer cottage that are usually uninhabitable. — Sand-Filled Marble. A LARGE pocket of sand was dis- covered recently in a solid block of marble at Middlebury, Vt. This sand is unlike any found in that vi- cinity. It is like beach sand. Geolo- gists who have looked at it say that the marble was formed under water and probably the sand was caught in the centex of the formation, strange | lean- | in and | were dragged | almost | without | |sver the boat's gunwal | of roaring watery the plan | oars w | steering | his hands | breast =o tha bone was One more p more to get'"” B selzing a spare ¢ around mpin e comber wreck crashed | When | head to = |in vain for | had vanished here _ “Afine, upstar the crippled stre “Went like a roared Tke Ferg “0" course, he d old Bob Stafford. » THERE was a smail the shack when red upon the beach Bob had steered his his aching breast of humble pride theve. ¥t g man!” moaned oar. orman, anyhow' crowd filling the lifeboat the second n of the barren vears that we | because b | the fetish at thought « there, appare might be n itself to the to command a {line. But Bob k |itfe. There was ocarsman, gasping passenger, owner now. owing i man who was too sm in a first-class t comin | how he Bob kne Every man particular natu Tn the shack sat on Bob's bed beside her, his wife { villagers in a rather “My friends, T am ny owning shall see to i courage and unse wrewarded truti cording to his silver-haired won ohn Urdal sweet— “Thank vou, good peopl back with tired eyes, yet sm People spoke in low tones as the went out. Everybody there had seer John Urdal work like a_hero in t surf, dragging men to sh thoug | sorely battered himself. Old Bob § \ford wanted to have a word with ! John. Something about size, dignity nany things. But somehow the de | sire was not_so strong after that last boat trip. It was less strong after that peep into the shack | Ike Fergus, proud of his broken | head, talked loudly. now that the job | was done. He wanted John Urdal to I know of the existence of lke Fer He casually mentioned the coxswair of course, and carts arrived to take the rescued people to the near est town, he made some mention of the boathouse keeper who had beer quite useful. Urdal's wife was car ried to a convevance, and Urdal got in heside her. But he found time to look inside the boathouse, trving to discern somebody who might look capable of any sort of a lifeboat job That was the chance old Bob Staf ford once thought he longed for. But things seemed different. All John Urdal saw was a little, hent man put tering about the s tered form the lifeboat in the wavering lantern light: coiling up lines, straightening up launching planks, ' going stoutl about the job so that any possible emergency that might come late should not find his part, at least undone. Old Bob Stafford felt proud then He had lived his moment. e had to hurry, because there were little rab bits to tend. a poor derelict hen to nurse; and his shack must look Ifke the deuce after wi: those folks had in vaded it. He kicked things into place Voices diminish@d and ceased owtside. Along the beach he knew men still searched for drift from the wreck That was their right. They had done well. Bob took up the burden of his old fore-bitter, rounding it out as he finished his job: “So he got eddication, just fit for his station, He knew he warn't for to larn. And his old shipmates found him with young ‘uns around him, All chips of the old block from stem ol'ar to starn.” (Copyright. 1926, soon o never too old