see a number; so with hubbly sidewalks and trying to look at all the doors, why, the first thing I knew, down I fell, and my bag flew out of my hand. It was a good sizable bag, and it seemed as though I ought to see it right away, but I couldn't see or feel hide or hair of it. So I went back to the grocer's on the corner and borrowed a lamp and a boy to carry it. We found the bag leaning up against the fence as though it had been put there o' purpose. Then I found I'd forgot my number, but the boy said Mr. Alby's folks lived in the next block. So I went on and clim up the steps of the first house and rung the bell. A boy and a girl came to the door and opened it jest a little crack. "Does Mrs. Alby live here?" I asked. "Much you want to know where she lives," says the boy; "you can't play it on me; you're jest round to spy out the land so you can steal a good one. Ma said we'd have to look out now there's no gas, 'cause dark streets was jest what you loved." "Your ma must be mistaken," says I, "She ain't acquainted with me anyhow; she can't know what I love." "My goodness, Aunt Jane! how you can joke!" and they laughed again. "Anybody needs something to defend themselves in such a dark city as this"; and I looked at my sinewy hands meditatively. "Isn't it perfectly dreadful?" said Milly. "Not a lamp lit in the city! I don't know what we're coming to. Why, a week ago Sunday we had to put off our dinner two hours because they'd shut off the water; but shutting off the gas is worse." "We sha'n't dare to go out evenings without pa is with us," said the girls. Pretty soon I left them, and went up to my room so as to write to John, and tell him I had got here safe, and the folks was glad to see me, and to be sure and not hang his best coat in the kitchen all the time I'm gone, and to shut the doors when he goes off to work so the cats can't get in, and not to use the best knives when he is frying bacon and eggs, and so forth. The next morning Milly was busy with her dressmaker, and I couldn't get any chance to visit with her, so I told her I'd start out sight-seeing on my own hook, as I wanted to go to the Old Ladies' Home that I'd read "Tell her Mrs. Alby lives third door from about. She told me to go down and take a here," whispered the girl. Market Street car, and stay on it till I got "Not much don't I tell her nothing"; and clear to the end of the track and couldn't go the boy slammed the door. Of course I found Milly's right away then, and I was glad, I can tell you. They wanted to know how I ever got there in that wretched darkness. The girls tittered considerable when I told my adventures. They said I ought to sit still on the street-car, as the conductors always looked out for folks from the country. "But how'd he know I was from the country?" says I; and then they laughed till they was out of breath, and one of them kissed me and said, says she: "O, Aunt Jane, you're perfectly lovely, better than old china a good deal. I always did want to see a real old-fashioned grandmother such as we read about, and you are so unsophisticated." any farther; then I couldn't help being right. So I started off, taking my letter along. Milly said: "There's a letter-box on the next corner: you can tell them, because they're always painted green." I found it easy as could be, but I couldr exactly tell at first where the hole was to p the letters in. I thought 'twould be on top like a missionary box, but it wasn't; it was little door right under the eaves. After that I found a Market Street car, ar asked if it would take me to the Old Ladie Home. The conductor said it would, s determined to keep still just as Milly t. me to; but I declare I couldn't hardly do I was jest possessed to ask him if he sure I was on the right car, and didn't h mean befor But I mana "Well, yes; my fists are tolerable large," to stop before I got there-I got to the end of the track. says I. to keep my tongue still, till at last we stopped way out in the country, and the conductor pointed out the house to me very polite. It is a nice large house, and so is the Homeopathic Hospital right near it. The grounds are smooth and green, but the fence is a regular old corral fence as yet. Both houses have big, airy halls and good-sized At the Home there were three or four old ladies out on the porch, who seemed to be having a good comfortable time. They looked nice and tidy, and easy in their minds, as though they had got all through getting the men-folks their meals, washing dishes, mending pants, making butter, and rooms. all that. Pretty soon Sister Alice came and took me to see the chapel, which is just a room half full of chairs, with a pulpit in one end. I thought it was real handy, as the women can go to meeting if it rains ever so hard. I was a good mind to ask her if they put their bonnets and shawls on when they went to meeting, or if they went bareheaded; but I was afraid she would think I was not reverent. She told me how many dormitories there were in the house, and how every old lady had one all to herself. Sister Alice wore a black dress and little white muslin bonnet, with a frill coming down over her neck. When I went back to the cars I found five or six of them drawn up in a row, like they was going to a funeral procession. I rushed into the first one I come to, and here sat the driver eating his dinner. sad ham and eggs, bread and butter, gingerread, and I guess he had cold coffee. He "If you want to start now," says he, you'd better go along to the head car; this ne won't start for fifteen minutes or so, but at's going right quick." I hurried toward the first car, but as I assed the others I seemed to see all the ivers and conductors inside eating their iners. I didn't look very close, because it uldn't be polite, but that was my impresI was so afraid the car would start fore I got to it that I was all out of breath en I dropped onto the seat. But the n. driver sauntered into his place as though there was millions of time, and the conductor opened a little door under one end of the seat and says, says he: "Who's been into my box?" "It wa'n't me," growled the driver. "And it wa'n't me," laughs I in my sleeves; for it made me think of the fairy story of Golden Hair and the three bears. "Who's been tasting out of my bowl?" growled the very big bear. "It wa'n't me," grumbled the middlingsized bear. "And it wa'n't me," squeaked the very little bear. Well, the conductor took out a cloth and began to dust the seats. Then I noticed another little door fastened with a button under the seat opposite me. "O, that's the driver's box," thinks I. "That's where they carry their dinners, and when they get way out here, where they can stop a spell, they eat it." Then I wondered if the driver had been getting any of the mince-pie or things that the conductor's wife had give him for his dinner, that made him sing out, "Who's been into my box?" Anyway, I thought I'd had made quite a discovery, for I never thought about the car-men eating before; anybody might suppose they kept going and going like the Wandering Jew, all day and half the night. Well, I got home all right, and only told. the conductor once where I wanted to go, so that gave me great confidence in their "powers of memory," as Bell Alby calls it. But confidence may be abused, as I soon found to my sorrow. You see, Milly and I had an invitation to spend the day on Sacramento Street (I believe it was Sacramento Street), but Milly had company and couldn't go, and as I wanted to go to the store to get some yarn to finish footin' John's socks, she told me when I'd done my shopping to take the Larkin Street cars and change to Sutter Street, which would take me within two blocks of Mrs. Friendly's house. So when the conductor was giving out the transfers I told him I wanted one, as I was going to stirred him up before, that I didn't get beSacramento Street. "O, well," says he, "then you don't have to change cars; this takes you to Sacramento Street." "But Milly said I must change." "I reckon Milly didn't know," says he, kind of pityingly. "I'll put you off at Sacramento Street all right." So I settled down real calm, trusting to his "powers of memory," and begun to look at ladies' cloaks and dresses and furs and horseshoe bonnets. And we rode along and rode along, and the folks kept getting out, till at last I was the only one left. Then I begun to get a little mite uneasy, but I thought he'd be sure to remember when we got to the right street; so we rode along and rode along till we got way down to the ocean. Here we stopped, and the conductor went to a window in a little house and got a new card to punch, and when he come back he begun to talk to the driver. "It's awful hot for March," said he, taking off his cap and wiping his manly brow. What'll it be in May if it keeps on." 66 "Blue lightning," says the driver, wiping his brow. "These uniforms are too awful heavy for hot weather; the company ought to let us have lighter ones." "They won't do it, though," says the other. "We have to wear the same thing the year round." "If you please, I sha'n't know when we get to Sacramento Street if you don't tell me," says I, suggestively; for it didn't seem to me any kind of a way for them to stand there talking when I was expected at Mrs. Friendly's to lunch. Well, such a blank expression as come over that conductor's face you never did see; he actually seemed half afraid of me, and stammered out: “Really, madam, I—I—we've come by that street; I forgot to tell you. But there's a car coming; it will take you right back; it won't take long." He acted as though he expected a good scolding, but I was so busy wishing I'd gun before the other car come along. I Well, I changed cars, and was set down Once in a while I'd come to a house, but the numbers didn't count up worth a cent, and for a street that pretended to be in a city it wasn't thickly settled to speak of I had on my heavy cloak and numerous other winter clothes, and it was often borne in upon my mind that the car-men were right when they called it "awful hot." I wished I had the "seven-league boots," but I had to continue to stub along in my littl number sixes. At last, when I was jus about ready to sink in a "slough of de spond," the city hove in sight again; th houses began to count up right brisk, an after a while Mrs. Friendly's fair mansio loomed up before my weary eyes. She opened the door for me, but I was that tired, dusty, and wilted, I told her I was afraid it would really be more fitting for me to be pinned up on the clothes-line in her back yard than to go into her pretty parlor. Everybody had been to lunch, but she said the table wasn't cleared off yet and I must have some. And why didn't I come earlier? And what did I come from that direction for? "Goodness, gracious," says she, when I had told my adventures. "Been way down to the ocean and walked all the way from Pacific Street! Why, woman alive, you ought to have changed to Sutter Street cars, then you wouldn't have had to walk but two blocks." And that conductor said I didn't need to change. He said Milly didn't know. He said for me to stay on and 'twould be all right. And oh, I didn't scold him a single morsel! How can I bear it, to think I let him get off so easy, and he carrying me away off down to the ocean and making me walk all that ways! L. J. Dakin. CRUISE OF THE OCEAN SPRAY. SEAL fishing in Alaskan waters is one of the most profitable industries in the United States. Considering the number of men and vessels employed, and the actual capital invested, the yield to the Company enjoying the exclusive monopoly of the trade is simply enormous. By an act of Congress, the sole privilege of killing fur bearing seals and preserving the skins is granted the Alaska Commercial Company. San Francisco is the headquarters of this corporation. Some years ago the Company was organized by General J. F. Miller (now United States Senator from California), Mr. Kohl, and others. As a measure of protection, a bill was passed by Congress giving to the Alaska Commercial Company the exclusive right to carry on seal fishing in the waters in and about Alaska. This law was enacted in consideration of an annual subsidy to be paid by the corporation to the general governpent. For each seal killed and skin obtain d, the Company is required to pay the overnment the sum of one dollar. One rovision of this law is, that only one hunred thousand seals shall be killed every ear, and under this statute the government supposed to receive an annual subsidy of le hundred thousand dollars. It is claim ↳, however, on good authority, that a great any of these valuable animals are killed each season in excess of the number fixed by the law of Congress. The payment of the subsidy affords the Alaska Commercial Company a monopoly of the seal traffic in the extreme North Pacific Ocean, and prohibits, under heavy penalties, any other corporation or private individuals from trespassing on the designated fishing grounds. Any vessel not belonging to the corporation found in Alaskan waters engaged in capturing seals is subject to seizure and confiscation; and any person so employed is liable to arrest and punishment. Notwithstanding the heavy penalties, the temptation is so strong-the profit being very great-that many persons have surreptitiously engaged in the hazardous business. Cupidity, aided by a love of romantic adventure, has induced a certain reckless class of men to embark in such an enterprise in stealthy defiance of the legal consequences. Seal fishing is principally carried on in and about the islands of St. Paul and St. George, or among what are known as the Pribylov Islands. To prevent trespass on these fishing grounds, the government employs a person who lives on one of these islands, and who is instructed to guard the interests both of the United States and of the Company. He is required to prevent any vessels or persons from engaging in the illicit business of killing seals; and also to see that the Company does not destroy more seals than the law allows. Such an inspector acts under direction of the Collector of Customs of Alaska Territory, and is authorized to capture all trespassing vessels, and apprehend all persons found illegally engaged in capturing these valuable fur-producing animals. For a number of years past, reckless adventurers have violated the law by the introduction of arms, ammunition, and liquor into the territory, and by the killing of seals; and United States officials have found their hands virtually tied, owing to the anomalous condition of affairs, the territory, as a matter of fact, having neither civil nor military law. This embarrassing state of things has been greatly augmented by there being no rapid method of communication between the stations, and by the government's failure to supply the officers with proper vessels or boats. Almost every season from three to four rapid schooners, well manned, have en tered the waters of Alaska, and, passing into Behring's Sea, made a descent on the Pribylov Islands, to kill seals, trade liquor to the Indians on the mainland, and altogether reap a very profitable harvest. On the 27th of March, 1876, the Schooner Ocean Spray, of eighty-three tons burden, owned by George W. Kentfield, of San Francisco, sailed from that port, after being duly enrolled and licensed there "for Behring's Sea, or elsewhere," bound on a fishing cruise. Frank Howell was the charterer, and the schooner was under command of Captain Thomas Butler. The crew consisted of the first and second mate, four men before the mast and a cook. No "log" was kept by the Ocean Spray, and she had no manifest. Among the cargo were a large number of butcher knives, guns, and a considerable quantity of liquor. On the 25th day out the schooner put into the port of Victoria, from which place, according to the consular certificate, she cleared on the 26th of April for Wrangel, Alaska, on a fishing license from San Francisco." At Victoria some trifling repairs were made to the vessel, and a crew of twenty-four Indians and two interpreters were hired to "take seals in the northern waters." A whale-boat was also purchased and the vessel provided with some additional stores. Clubs for killing seal were likewise obtained. Thus equipped for her northern cruise, the Ocean Spray, on the 27th of April, proceeded to Neah Bay, Washington Territory. Three more canoes were purchased there. From that point the schooner sailed northward and made the Aleutian Islands, probably at Ounimak Pass, about June 1st. Here the vessel came to anchor for a few days, and during that time the master supplied the schooner with fuel and water. Leaving that place the Ocean Spray proceeded in the direction of Pribylov Islands, and after sailing for some time dropped anchor about ten miles southeast of one of that group, called the Sea Otter Isle. A canoe was sent ashore here with six Indians and an interpreter named Wilkins, in charge of a Dr. Thatcher, who appeared to have some interest in the adventure. The object of this was to reconnoitre, and ascertain if there were any persons or seals on the island. They found neither after a short search. When they were returning to the schooner a heavy fog came up, and the canoe was lost. For five days and four nights the seven men drifted almost helplessly about in their open boat loooking vainly for the vessel. Abandoning, at length, all hopes of ever finding the schooner, Thatcher ordered the Indians to pull for St. Paul's Island, distant only about a league from Sea Otter Isle. During all this time the Ocean Spray beat on and off the island, searching for the missing canoe. Approaching within a mile of Sea Otter Isle—as near as it was safe-Cap tain Butler sent off two canoes, manned by Indians, telling them to make careful and diligent quest for the missing men. Each day they returned reporting that they had seen nothing of Thatcher and his party. the hope of finding the men at St. Paul, th schooner sailed for that island. Here the found the missing crew. I |