RE-DISCOVERING A HERO.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXI, Issue 9019, 4 January 1908, Page 7

RE-DISCOVERING A HERO.

> A.MARK TWAIN STORY. f Continuing the "Chapter from My Autobiography" in the"North American Review" for September, Mark Twain tells this story:— Six months ago, when I was recalling early days in San Francisco, I broke off at a place where I was about to tell about Captain Osborn's odd adventure at the "What Cheer," or perhaps it was at an another cheap feeding-place —the "Miners' Restaurant." It was a place where one could get good food on the cheapest possible terms, and its popularity was great among the multitudes whose purses were light. It was a good place to go to, to observe fixed humanity. Captain Osborn and v Bret Harte went there one day, and ' took a meal, and in the course of it Osborn fished up an interesting reminiscence of a dozen years before, and told about it. It was to this effect : He was a midshipman in the navy when the Californian gold craze burst upon the- world and set it wild with excitement. His ship made the long journey around the Horn, and was approaching her goal, the Golden Gate, when an accident happened. "It happened to me," said Osborn. "I fell overboard. There was a heavy sea running, but no one was much alarmed about me, because we had on board a newly-patented life-saving device, which was believed to be competent to rescue anything that could fall overboard, from a midshipman to an anchor. Ours was the only ship ythat had this device; we were very "proud of it, and had been anxious to give ita powers a practical test. The thing was lashed to the garboard strake of the mainto'gallant mizzen- , yard amidships, and there was noth- j ing to do but cut the lashings and j heave it overboard; it would do the j rest. One day the cry of 'Man overboard !' brought all hands on deck. Instantly the lashings were cut and the machine flung joyously over. Damnation, it went to the bottom .'.ike an anvil! By the time that the ship j was brought to and a boat manned, I ■, was become but a bobbing speck on ; -the waves a mile astern and .losing my strength very fast; but by ; good luck there was a common sea- ' man on board who had practical ideas iin his* head and hadn't waited to see . what the patent machine was going • ■- to do, but had run aft and sprung ' ,over after me the moment the alarm ; was cried through the ship. I had a '■ good start of him, and the seas made his progress slow and difficult, but he .stuck to his work and fought his way to me, and just in the nick of time lie put his saving arms about ire when I was about to go down. Ho •held me up until the boat reached us and rescued us. By that time I was unconscious, and I was still unconscious when we arrived at the ship. A dangerous fever followed, and I was delirious for three days; then I came to myself and at once inquired for my benefactor, of course. He was gone. We were lying at anchor in the bay, and every man had deserted to the gold mines except the commissioned officers. I found out nothing about my benefactor but his name —Burton Sanders —a name which I have held in grateful memory ever since. Every time I have been on the Coast, these twelve or thirteen years, I have tried to get track of him, but have never succeeded. 1 wish I could find him and make him understand that his brave act has never been forgotten by me. Harte, I would rather see him and take him j by the hand than any other man on ' the planet." ! ' At this stage or a little later there j was an interruption. A waiter near ( by said to another waiter, pointing—"Take a look at that tramp that's coming in. Ain't that the one that bilked the house last week out of tan cents?" "I believe it is. Let him alone—don't pay any attention to him; wait till we get a good look at him." The tramp approached timidly and hesitatingly, with the air of one unsure and apprehensive. The waiters watched him furtively. When ha v/as passing Harte's chair one of them said — ! "He's the one!"—and they pounced | upon him and proposed to turn him j over to the police as a bilk. He ; begged piteou?ly. He confessed his [ guilt, but said he had been driven to j his crime by necessity—that when he j had eaten "the plate of beans and j slipped out without paying for it, it was because he was starving, and hadn't the ten cents to pay for it with. But the waiters would listen to no explanations, no palliations; he must be placed in custody. He brushed his hand across his eyes and said meekly that he would submit, being friendless. Each waiter took him by an arm and faced him about to conduct him away. Then his melancholy eyes fell upon Captain Osborn, and a light of glad and eager recognition Hashed from them. He said — "Weren't you a midshipman once, sir, in the old Lancaster?" "Yes," said Osborn. "Why?" "Didn't you fall overboard?" "Yes, I did. How do you com", to know about it?" "Wasn't there a new patent machine aboard, and didn't they throw it over to save you?" "Why, yes," said Osborn, laughing gently, "but it didn't do it." "No, sir, it was a sailor that done it." "It certainly v/as. Look here, my man, you are getting distinctly interesting. Were you of our crew?" "Yes, sir, I was." "I reckon you may be ri;ht. You do certainly know a good deal about that incident. What is your name?" "Burton Sanders." Tho captain sprang up, excited, and said — "Give me your hand! Give me both your hands! I'd rather shake them than inherit a fortune!"—and then he cried to the waiters, "Let him go!—take your hands oil'! He is my guest, and can have anything and everything this house is able to furnish. I am responsible." There was a love-feast then. Captain Osborn ordered it regardless of expense, and he and Harte sat there and listened while the man told stirring adventures of his life and fed himself up to the eyebrows. Then Osborn wanted to be benefactor in his turn, and pay back some of the debt. The man said it could all ce paid with ten dollars—that it had been so long since he had owned that amount of money that it would seem a fortune to him, and he should be grateful beyond words if

the captain could spare him that amount. The captain spared ihim ten.broad twenty-dollar gold pieces, and made him take them in .spite of his modest protestations, and gave him his address, and said he must never fail to give him notice when he needed grateful .service. Several months later Harte stumbled upon the man in the street. He was most comfortably drunk, and pleasant and chatty. Harte lemarked upon the splendidly and movingly dramatic incident of the restaurant, and said—"How curious and fortunate and happy and interesting it was that you two should come together, after that long separation, and at exactly the right moment to save you from 1 disaster, and turn your deleat by the waiters into a victory. A preacher could make a great sermon out of that, for it does look as if the hand of Providence was in it" The hero's face assumed a sweetly genial expression, and he said— j "Well, now. it wasn't Providence j this time. I was running the ar- j rangemenrs myself." I "How do you mean?" I "Oh, I hadn't seen the genileman j before. I was at the next table, with my back to you, the whole time he was telling about ii. I saw my chance, and slipped out and fetched the two waiters with me, and offered to give them a commission out of what I could get out of the . captain, if they would do a auarrel j act with me and give me an opening. So, then, after a minute or two I straggled back, and you know the rest of it as well as I do."