Life — October 10, 1889 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- LIFE: LIFE’S FRESH AIR FUND. “In His Name Betty, Anna and Will Afriend . . . Previously Acknowledged $8,304.8 M. KW. 10.00 “Baby Hosen; Me. oo”. “ Additional’ Amo * Bar Harbor, “SANT’ ILARIO” IN CAMP. NE'S recollection of a book is composite—part the impression made by the literary creation, and part by the circumstances under which it was read. Many a dull book becomes a pleasant memory, and a work of genius perhaps is associated with pain.” To think of Crawford's ‘Sant’ Hario,” recalls a rainy day at Cedar Island Camp. and squares of modern Rome; the background is a broad gray sur- face of water stretching off to a shore covered with stately cedars, poplars and balsams, As in a cyclorama, it is hard to distinguish where Rome ends and the Adirondack lake begins, You knaw that the beautiful Corona lived in the stately Palazzo Saracinesca, and you half believe that in one corner of that palace there is a long, parrow room with a wolf-skin stretched on the wall,and two bucks" heads on cither side. And outside there is a rustic piazza with rubber,coats, and guns, and fishing-tackle hanging on the log: Through the open door you hear men’s voices—laughter and blunt repartee, with a story now and then, Somehow you cann ‘The foreground of the memory is the streets VUWtigasse & A SERIOUS LOSS. “WHAT's THE MATTER, Eppie?” “WILLIE THOMAS HAS GONE AND MOVED OUT OF THIS STREET, ROO, HOO,” “WELL, DON'T CRY; THERE ARE PLENTY OF OTHER LITTLE BOYS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD TO PLAY WITH.” “Y-E-S, B-U-T HE'S THE O-N-L-Y ONE I COULD L-I-C-K. quite determine whether Sant’ Marto, Gouache, and San Giacinto are having a game of poker or whether it is the three guides. You are sure, however, that the game is being played by the correct American rules. The excitement deepens; you are absorbed in the story, and feel that a great crisis has been reached when the Garibaldians and Papal troops have a battle while the fate of a * Jack-pot" is being determined. You hold your breath as the Papal soldiers charge up the hill, and are ready to break into cheers at the bravery of the soli- tary figure on a rampart tearing down the stone wall while the bullets strike all around him, With his fate still in doubt, you hear a shout of triumph, and learn that ‘four trays” have been successfully played against ** three bullets,” and that the “ Jack-pot” has been * scooped by Abner"—to use the elegant phrase which lingers in your ear, This victory over-shadows the battle of the Papal troops, and i creases in importance with later reports that ‘Ab has cleaned up both the Old Man and Iry." The conqueror carries his honors meekly, only remarking that the game has been ‘very insenubious for the other fellows,” In Abner's vocabulary when anything is “ insenu- bious" it is very bad—and far below the reach of ordinary lang Then night comes down. with the pouring rain, All dwellers in the Adirondacks are divided into two classes—Guides and Sports— and both classes gather around the roaring fire. You join the circle and in the quiet of an after-dinner smoke float off to Rome and the Saracinesca. The fate of the beautiful Faustina is becoming engross- ing, when the Old Man breaks the silence with a bear story. Mr. Crawford cannot hold his own as a teller of stories with an intellig Adirondack guide, You soon leave Faustina in prison to follow the veteran guide into a bear's cave; or to go on a trail with him through the forest after a bear that ran so fast that he left the mark of his stomach in the light snow at every jump. ‘There ain't no dog in these parts can catch them on a dead run,” he said to the incredulous. ° . . HEN the stories are ended you go to sleep in a bark cottage by the edge of the lake, and dream that Sant’ /ario is watching with you for deer in the flow-ground; that you push the boat on a marsh island, and build a little fire of twigs and rushes; that while the hounds are baying along the hillside, Sant’ Mario and you are discussing the next move of Garibaldi, and plotting to release the beautiful Faustina from prison, Two shots down by Windmill Point startle you! ‘That was Gouache shooting the deer,” says Sant Hario, ‘Then you bear the clear, sharp whistle of the huntsman call- in the hounds, and you know that the chase is ended. Together you row through the dead and spectral-like trees of the flow-ground, and out into the open lake. Soon you land on H ind- mill Point. “ Where is the big buck ?" you ask. And in your dreain you do not know whether it is Gowache or Abner who replies : “It's a yearlin’ doe, We robbed the cradle.” The dream is prophetic of the great hunt on which you start that day. In the evening a huge fire of roots and knots is built in front of the open camp. It is a gloomy, rainy night, but the camp is a cheery place. You sit on a bed of spruce boughs and watch the swaying flames—imagining that Montevarchi, Giovanni, and the rest are sitting in the shadow, “What do you think of ‘Sant’ Mario’? smoke which may belong to Gouacke's pipe. “It has given me so much pleasure,” you say, “and is so in woven with our experiences on this beautiful lake that I cann¢ express a critical opinion, All I know is that it made a rainy day i camp seem short, For me it is hereafter a part of Cedar Isla and when I smell the odor of spruce, or am wakened by the music ¢ waters, I shall at once think of *Sant’ Iario.'" asked from a cloud of Droch. NEW BOOKS. THE NURSERY LESSON BOOK. By Phillip G. Hubert, Jr. York and London: G. P, Putnam's Soos. What one can do with a Chafing Dish. By H.L.S, New York: Jobo Ireland. New