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About The illustrated west shore. (Portland, Or.) 1891-1891 | View Entire Issue (April 4, 1891)
THE WEST SHORE.
notified Joe I'd found " another." The next move was to turn about, get on
hands and knees back to the verge and reach a foot down no bottom s then
a rest, while Joe got a bracing position and took my hand ; next I swung both
legs over and slid down till my chest just balanced on the verge still no
bottom, and I shouted for Joe to pull. A short struggle and I rested easily
on my breast. Then we consulted as to our bearings. We both remembered
one place where I had boosted him and he in turn pulled me up. This must
be it, and, after assuring ourselves the face of the cliff was within reach, we
tightened our grip and 1 slid down, down gracious ! Was there no bottom ?
It seemed as though I was a rod long and still tailed to reach. I was beyond
helping myself, and was about to yell for Joe to pull, when my left foot
touched. Resting on it, I explored with the other foot a little the bottom
was there all right, and soon as I could catch my breath I notified Joe. Let
ting go and drawing a sigh of relief, which could be heard through the storm,
Joe swore if that thing continued much longer he would be gray-haired by
morning. I laughed dismally, and taking him down we proceeded.
In the next half hour we had but little trouble, but then ran against a
boulder which entirely barred our progress. We now knew that either the
storm had destroyed our path or we had somehow forked into a wrong grade.
Having a mind to see how far above the valley we were, a good-sijed rock
was dropped over the edge. After the first yard's rustling on the incline it
went over, and to our dismay gave hack no sound in striking. We, therefore,
retreated to a projecting portion of the cliff, and sitting down out of the rain,
with legs over the edge, began spinning yarns to pass away the night.
By two o'clock the storm had ceased, and we could hear the rush of the
stream in front of us, at some distance, and from its sound it seemed certain
we could not be so far above it as the stone indicated. However, we had had
a sufficiency of night exploration, and so sat it out. Dawn found us still
. watchful and awake, and, lo ! our feet were swinging within one yard of the
grassy bottom of the vale. I walked back to where the deceptive rock lay
within a yard of where it left my hand, and with unction hurled it into the
stream. In the darkness we had passed the point where we had clambered
onto the causeway, and, of course, had lost our bearings after going beyond.
Pledging each other to a six months' secrecy concerning our night's vigil,
we set about building a fire and getting breakfast. That was the nearest I
ever came to getting a " big horn," and Joe still thinks he is just a little the
better hunter. The Major.
See advertising columns for particular! ot print (or punlri ami answer,.
A character expressing a number.
A double notching.
In contact with.
V. A. N. Gl'AKi).
whole of forty letters is an anonymous quotation, but excellent
I, 39, 26, 16, 35, 18, 30 is a couple.
4, 14, 32, 8, 57, Jl, 36 is molestation.
34, 40, 9, 16, 31, 2i) is a fraud.
5. 3', '5. 33, '9 a fr"h "lcr fih'
13,6, 15,37,13. 3 W
17, , 14, 28 is a vessel ustd to receive the washings of ores or
10, jo, 1 1, 3 is room.
7, 13 is before (obi.).
Under this heading are published as many as possible of the poems entered Tor the
monthly poetical contest. See announcement in advertising columns for particulars.
The names of priie winneis for the month of March will he found on page 931,
On the eternal ocean's brink ties an hour glass tilled with sand,
Sifted from the golden grains that lie all along the strand,
That the waves have carried (hither, through the ages, to the shore,
Coming from an unseen country called the Utnd of Evermore.
Through the transparent, tiny vessel God enn watch the steady line,
Falling through life's stated hour, olwlient to a law divine.
Falling in a shining current, He can watch each grain of sand
That has helped to fill the hour glass, from the hollow of His hand.
And the heart, it is the hour glass, and the sand thai ceaseless flows
Is the life blood that is moving through the hour until its close ;
Each throb a grain that measures all the sands that silent run,
Surely marking every moment tilt life's shortened hour be done ;
Whether throb of joyousness, throb of love, pain or regret,
To a law immutable every heart beat's measure's set,
Never changing with the currents of the great brain's shifting tone,
Though often sadly, often lightly, or tuned to some grand, angel song.
Till at last Death strikes the hour glass, and it breaks from side to side
Then lies still ; the sands so quiet know no more their restless tide,
And the hour glass, broken, shattered, falls from out Time's withered hand
All that's left some splintered fragments and a heap of golden sand.
Hoquiam, Washington. Hknik Ct.AHK IMmkkoy.
A PAY DREAM.
One sunny day when summer slipped
Across the fields with lingering feet,
And from her urn spill perfume sweet,
That she from out the flowers had dipcd,
A spray of poppies, ruddy lipped,
Hiushed soft ncross my drowsy eyes,
And straight I walked in kimdiae,
, Where birds sang low and fountains driped
Cool in the shade, lWfore me swung
A cloud, soft, luminous and pale,
That trembled as 1 looked. In vain
To pierce the shimmering Uirrier hung
Across the pun, I tried. Ttte veil
Still glimmered like a mist of rain.
Soft on my ear a whisper stole :
" And uouldst thou see lieyond this haie ?
Brush it aside that thou mightst gate
Into thy future? Wouldst thou roll
Away the mist that shuts the whole
Of joy and sorrow left for then
lieyond its silent mystery?"
Eager my hungry heart and soul
Cried out assent. With lifted hand
I hastened on, then paused, drew buck.
Alas t 1 dared not look and see
The road that wound through that strange kind,
A new, untrodden, unknown track,
Whose end closed in eternity.
Again the whisxT, low and clear,
Crept through the air ; " lie patient, love,
tfcitt thou not know that far uhovc
This ckmdy shield thou tent here
I .runs thy good angel, firm and sweet,
To guide thy wandering, wayward feet ?
Thou couliht not choose but shrink with fear
To see thy future i(h loo clear.
Hope on, trmt on through shade and sun,
(letter a rainbow made of tears
Than souitKe shallow through thy d iyi.
Of atl thy Itlrtsings, count this one
The grmlnt, th.it the coining years
Are veiled in mill and cloud jlwu)S."
Tacoimi, Washington. CuAMi.orrK Ur Dkwkv.
I' HON NIK.
IT WOULDN'T HURT IT.
GKKAT Man (angrily) So you want my autograph, eh? I'm getting
pretty tired of this tiling, and have got to put a check (0 it.
HoRF.M Oh, well, sir, 1'tl just as lief hive your mime on a check.