The Sketcher.

Western Star, Issue 2216, 24 June 1898, Page 4

The Sketcher.

The Old Diven’s Drama. “It was almost enough to craze a man outright,” said the old diver. "Ay, it was a tight lix—that iu the Conqueror. She was coming iu from the Mediterranean after a three years’ cruise with the ‘ middies,’ aud weut down in a gale in sight of home with every soul on board. I was young then and anxious to be the first sent down into her for the sake of the reputation, it would give me ; for reputation meant money, aud * mouey,’ you see, was the only reason why HeLtie aud i were deferring our marriage. “ The sea was running high as 1 was carried down in my heavy ’armour from the deck of liie steamer to the Uoat alongside, where the ropes by which to haul me up again were fastened on ; the indiarubber tube, through which I was iu be supplied with air, was adjusted. "‘Now, dear boy,’ said my old friend and instructor, Lott, the famous deep sea diver, who came forward to close the little glass window iu my helmet, ’lake good care of yourself, and dou t stay loug below. The currents are swift.’

•• 1 dropped into the waves with a splash, sinking swiftly down through the brilliant sunlit waters, which, though rough and boisterous at their surface, suddenly grew calm as 1 passed below. 1 glanced up at the sun, which appeared as a great ball of lire, but, growing smaller aud smaller as I sank lower, it finally seemed like the tiny red spark of a caudle, and then faded from sight. "I cleared a bank of thick sea-weed, aud stood at last upon the bright sandy bottom.

“ Passing around a reef of rocks fancifully honeycombed, 1 came upon a mass of tangled rigging, and a few steps brought me to the man-of-war half buried where she lay in the drifting sand.

" Great caution was necessary lest I should become entangled among the ropes or caught under the shifting timbers, and making my way slowly to the companion-way L sent up the signal : “ ’ I am about to enter the vessel’—’ I shall he in danger—‘ Flay out rope freely, and give me plenty of air.’ ” 1 made my way to the lower deck and found myself in the forward cabin. I groped about for the doorway, knowing that once in the main saloon the deck lights would enable life to see more distinctly.

" (hearing the rubbish and drifted sand from about the doorway, L put my shoulder to the door, shoved it back against the waters, and resolutely entered. An awful silence was upon everything—a silence as of death. 1 was alone, at the bottom of the sea, in flie saloon of the Conqueror, and close about me were 'postured, like grim sentinels set to watch me in my work, the ollicors and crew of two hundred ! ” Yes, there were the ill-fated men, as they stood when death overtook them on that awful night, when they were sinking. Before they could reach the stairway, the mighty water had rushed in upon them, and they died where it had met them, at the threshold. ••The eddying waters carried them here and there through the cabin, but still, so close were they to one another, that I had to part them now and then to reach the after cabin, and more than one -turned, as 1 slowly passed along, and followed in the wake t made behind me. Their faces were often close against my helmet, and it horrified me to notice that they all wore still upon their faces the impress of the terror that had come upon them with death. “ A moment passed, and 1 was terrified at receiving no response from a second or third signal ! , “ I pulled the rope again violentlywaited—still no reply. •• Great heavens ! What did it all mean? Had they forgotten me? Were they to leave me there at the bottom of the sea with that awful crew V I had no sooner realised my helplessness than an uncontrollable terror took possession of me. Surely they would not desert me !—surely they had not forgotten me ! 1 pulled madly at the cord once more, and, glancing up, perceived that there was something steadily resisting- my efforts from the masthead above.

“ Was it some monster who was playing with my rope V—some great fish that was holding it in his Jaws? In my desperation I throw my whole weight on it, and—it gave way, ami fell slowly, silently on the deck at my feet! The ragged, frayed ends, which had become entangled in the rigging, were in my hands, and the upper hall of the ropes had floated away with the tide.

“ 1 was alone at the bottom of the sea, with no means of signalling my distress ! The indiarubber lube, which was my only means of breathing, was yet fast to me ; but as soon as they should begin to wind in .the ropes and tube, on some supposed signal from me, it would snap in two. and the waters would come in upon me.

“My terror grew wilder. I knew the men were close to me—only thirty yards above me —yet. I must die be. cause I could not reach them ! 1 raved like a madman, and tried to tear my armour from me. but its iron rivets held me fasi. 1 shouted piteously, uselessly.

“ 1 fell upon Hie deck at last, exhausted—in an ominous stupor-a sullen despair—and sank Into unconsciousness. When I recovered I was calm—prayer came to my lips. " I closed my eyes quietly, and waited for the death 1 was powerless in defer. Waited for it with my head laid on my arms, as 1 used l<> sleep in the dear old days at home. Waited quietly for its coming, praying tied that it might come upon me gently. “ Was 1 crazed V Was I mad, or was this a new torture for me in my last moments V i had, lain quiet but a moment, when I started up in terror, uttering a cry—a weak, miserable cry. which died on my lips as I sank again on the deck and closed my eyes to a terrible sight before me. “ I had left the cabin door open, and freed the imprisoned dead men. One of the dead sailors had floated up to the deck, and, by some horrible chance, the tide bore him directly toward me. Was I to die surrounded once more by those ghastly sentinels as a deathwatch ?

He was borne slowly along on the current, bis eyes wide open in an awful stare, his arms outstretched as though to embrace me. welcoming me to the unknown world. I fell prostrate on the deck in my terror, but he floated on slowly, the tide casting him up against me, when lie fell at my side. “I caught him in my desperation, to fling him from me. but his arms closed tight about me in an iron embrace, and bis face was close to mine —the face of old Lott, the diver, who

had come down through the waters to save me, and lu whose stout arms I was borne up and carried insensible to the boats above.

“‘ We saw what was wrong right away,' he said to me afterwards, ‘ when the ragged ends of your rope floated to the surface. There was only one way of reaching you. old follow, and I can toll you we flew around quick. We had no “'boll" to go down to you in. so we just fastened some weights to my feet and ropes to my arms. I took a rubber mouthpiece between my teeth, and dropped overboard. The water oppressed me fearfully, and I couldn’t have stood it more than a few (minutes. In that few minutes I found you. caught you up in my arms, and signalled to them to haul us up pretty quick. It was killing me.’ “ I took his dear hands in mine, and looked into his good, ‘honest eyes. With a swelling heart, 1 told him, in such words as i could, of my gratitude for his heroic efforts when he came down through flic waters at; the risk of ids own life to save mine. “ITettie and I were married a month later.”—“ Weekly Sun.” Itain-niakcr.s. Mr. Joseph Collinson. who professes to possess the means of producing rain at will, has been moved to make a suggestion. lie did so two years ag >. and promised rain on a given day within a given area. I>ni something went wrong with his calculations, as the rain did not put in an appearance then, nor for a long time after. Mr. Col Mason, however, is not anxious to Interfere with the drought in England on the present occasion. He prefers leaving that ilo Nature. It Is the drought in South Africa which .is troubling him, and his suggestion is that Mr. Chamberlain, as Colonial Secretary, should make the rule of Great Britain in that part of the world doubly acceptable to the native races by sending there a number of rain-makers. Before Africa was endowed 'With European civilisation it was “ providentially blest by having among its inhabitants families of persons known as rain-makers” : 'but these have apparently found their occupation gone in ithe presence of British civilisation, and Mr. Collinson (thinks Mr. Chamberlain has a grand opportunity for increasing the prestige of this con nlry in Africa by supplying showers whenever required. The Colonial Secretary is no doubt a very clever as he certainly is a very 'astute man, but .the task Mr. Collinson sots him is rather beyond his ability. When Mr. Col.liusou can himself apply his Odylie Force to overcome the drought, and make good the .shortcomings of the skies in this country, more faith will be placed in his theories, and then, perhaps, he may himself be .sent on a rain-making mission to -South Africa. s*rcservc Yoiir Eyes. A well-known oculist says : “ Don’t read while yon arc travelling, but if yon will read lot lit be books or news-, papers with the largest type you can get hold of. Reading in a railway carriage in motion is also Imtic.h easier and less .injurious df a large card or an envelope be held just under each line you are reading, and moved down, as each line is read.

“ T.ho use of tinted writing-paper is very beneficial to ibhc eyes, but the colours chosen should be gray. neutral •tint, or bluish green ; reddsb brown. 1 liiilc, yellow, or strongly yellowish green should be avoided. Those who suffer in any way from impaired vision and have niiieh writing to do should use the typewriter. The writer can loam back in a chair, and chan ye from one position to another without ceasing work, and there is none of the cramping effects upon different sets of muscles •Inseparable from ordinary writing.” Looking for any length of time through wire gauze blinds is injurious to'the sight. An oculist del Is of a police detective who came to him with ibis eyes in a shocking condition. He had nearly blinded .himself by looking •through such blinds for several weeks together. Ladies’ veils, too, when thick, frequently injure the Slight, especially when of .the dot pattern. The desirability of keeping the eyes cool is urged, ft is a good plan to bathe the eyes, dosed, every morning with moderately cold water. This lends .to strengthen and preserve the sight. A Real (irceiiliorn. It is seldom that a practical joke can be Indulged in without bringing unpleasant consequences upon some one. Occasionally, .however, one may be found which is both innocent and amnsing. like the following, narrated to the author of "The Falcon on the Haiti e.” The hero of the tale was a certain “ terrible greenhorn” by tin; name of Jim, on whom some one or other was always playing a trick. One evening .the barge was sailing by .Sheerness, and .the skipper, happening to look at the diode, saw it, wanted a, minute or so to 9. He remembered that at 9 o’clock a gnu was always fired .at. Sliceriiess ; so. being a mischievous sort, of cih-ap, he sings out to the green hand “Hi ! here, Jim, come on deck at ■once, and bring the fog-horn with you !” .fiiim tumbled up. “ Now, blow that there fog-horn for your life !” cries the skipper. “What for?” asks Jim, looking round.

“ Don’t ask what for. hut blow, you lubber ! Ill’s the* rule here. If a vessel don’t salute iSheerness with her foghorn as she passes by. they lire at her.” Jim. believing it a!!, lakes the horn, and blows like mud. “Harder, iha.rdier !” cries the skipper. “ They ean’t hear that. They'll shoot us all if you ain’t louder.” So .iini was blowing away with all ■llhe wind he had. when suddenly o(T went the b o'eloek "nil. and Jim gave a yell, threw the fogdioru on deck, and rushed below to hide from the cannon balls. oh, he was a green ohap. then ! He’s a bit smarter now, but the story of that foghorn will always follow him. Consultation Under the Sea. Mr. J. Henniker-H'eaton, M.P., recalls an interesting incident ; —“ Two years ago the son of a wealthy nobleman lay in San Francisco suffering from typhoid fever. Care and -kill were lavished upon him, and still his fate remained uncertain. His friends longed to obtain the advice of the great English physician, Sir Andrew Clark, but Sir Andrew could not be brought over in time. Nevertheless, Ids aid was obtained—for what can money not do ? The famous doctor went to the London end of the cable ; the other end was laid into the sick room in California. Thus a strange consultation was held under the sea between the English medical authority and his American colleagues, the very heat of the sufferer’s pulse being registered from time to time, thousands of miles away. The lad recovered.”