Life — June 7, 1900 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

A CAUCUS OF CAW CUSSES, bay into the broad Sound. “Do you know, Mr. Van- > ton, this silly man didn’t want to come, I believe he was actually afraid. That is,”’ she said, correct- ing herself, “he thought perhaps it might be too rough for me.”’ Mrs. Tipton was always careful of her husband, and however much she might ridicule him in private, she never made him appear in ‘3 a wrong light before other people. Vanton let the Birdie come up into the wind, while he tightened the jib sheet, regardless of. Tip- ton’s proximity to that important rope. “You are perfectly safe with me,” ne replied, con- fidently. ‘The Birdie is one of the best seaboats in these waters.’”” They had been sailing for a good hour, when the wind died out, and the Birdie, with no way on, lay idly * LIPE - pitching and tossing in the middle of the Sound. A black cloud had suddenly risen to the northwest, and Tipton watched the ex- pression on Vanton's face as the latter nervously looked aloft at the flapping mair- sail. “I guess we'd better take a reef in the mainsail,”’ he said, uneasily. Tipton knew what that cloud meant. His married life had been relieved by few holidays, and sailing had not been among his pastimes, much as he en- joyed it, but he had not spent most of his boyhood in a sailboat for nothing, and he had that instinctive. seamanship which never leaves a man when once it has entered into his soul, It came back to him now in a flood of feeling as he gazed at the huge and ominous black bank of wind and rain. He wanted it to blow, and he wanted it to blow hard. He had no sense of danger, but rather one of exultation. All the pent-up and suppressed feelings of his married life were ready to burst the dam, and his heart leaped within him. As he looked at Vanton’s face, he knew the latter was afraid— secretly afraid, His hand nervously twitched the tiller, and he looked anxiously over the leaden waste of water, now so rigidly calm. Mrs. Tipton divined that there was danger in the air. “We are going to have a storm,”’ she burst out. “Is there any danger?” Vanton smiled bravely. ‘Not a_ bit,” ARENA oy ENTRANCE ‘THE MATINEE IDOL. he said. anything.” The two men worked over the sail in silence, and, half its usual size, it was hoisted again, and bellied out fit- fully to the occasional puffs of air that now began to stir over the water. Then the wind came steadier, and the Birdie leaned over as she took it. Tipton kept his eye glued to windward. The black cloud had now stretched well overhead, and the white caps were beginning to show. Suddenly he saw what he had been looking for—that long, white line on the water that always means business. Vanton saw it at the same time. Look at that! ’’ he shouted, pale as a ghost. Tipton bounded forward, grabbed the hal- liards, and let go everything. The jib and mainsail came tumbling down with a rush. Springing aft he grasped the tiller away from Vanton, and brought the boat up into the wind before she lost headway. Mrs. Tipton, silent and awestruck, was halfway down the cabin steps when he grabbed her by her collar. ‘Come up out of that!’ he roared in her ear, “If she goes over, you'll be drowned like a rat inahole.”’ And then the squall struck. “The Birdie can weather