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That then it will please the great God to show

His beautiful face to me.
“I seek it still when God's gleaming pledge

In the brightning sky appears,
And from tree and flower, and sparkling hedge

Earth is weeping her happy tears;
For I sometimes think that I may behold,

After yearning years of pain,
The face of my God in the quivering gold

Of the sunshine tbat follows rain. “When the fishers return on the homeward tide,

I ask then nothing but this : 'Have you seen it out there on the ocean wide,

Where the sky and the waters kiss ? ' But they smile, and ‘Poor Dick!'I hear them say,

And they answer me always 'No'-
So I tbink it must be still farther away

Than even the fishing boats go."
That night while the simple fisher-folk slept,

From the dreams of the mighty free,
Down to the beach the idiot crept,

And launched on the summer sea. And the boat sped on, and on, and on,

From the ever-receding shore, And brighter and brighter the moonbeams shone,

Which for him were to shine no more.
Far out at sea his boat was found,

And the tide which bore to land
The village fleet from the fishing ground

Laid softly upon the sand
The white wet face of the idiot boy-

Not yearning and wistful now,
For perfect peace, and rest, and joy

Were written upon bis brow.
In the poor lad's eyes seemed still the glow

Of a new and a wondrous light;
And down on the beach the women knelt low

As they gazed on the holy sight.
As the fishermen walked to the smiling dead,

Softly their rough feet trod;
And bared was each head, as one slowly said,

“He has looked on the face of God!"

A noble man, ordained and broadly planned
By rarest gifts his brethren to command,
Obedient to God's silent beckoning hand,

Yields up his breath;
Upon his lips the smile serene and bland,

Which welcomed death.
A tongue anointed with the grace of speech,
A mind well trained its highest aims to reach ,
A heart attuned its strongest thoughts to teach

In words most wise,
Like strong waves whispering deep thoughts to the beach

In gentlest guise. A helpful band held out to those who weep; A genia! word hope's flame alive to keep, With strong "God-speeds” to those who climb fame's steep

In early youth,
And on his counsel stamped, clean marked and deep,

The seal of truth.
A faithful friend, a keen but kindly foe,
With smiles he coaxed esteem from strife to grow;
Within his soul in deep and ceaseless flow

Convictions strong,
Which sought the right; and, knowing sin was woe,

Condemned the wrong;
His home life peaceful as an evening psalm,
His trust in God on heights where dwells the calm.
In public life erect as some tall palm

Which clouds enfold,
In tropic lands with atmospheres of balm

And skies of gold.
An earnest worker in the ways of peace,
Whose triumphs grew in swift and rich increase ;
A ruler blessed by death with swift release

From cares of state;
E'en foes and critics now their cavils cease

And call him great.
The land he served his memory shall enthrone,
His virtues throngh the coming years be known,
•By permission of the dutbor.


And Pennsylvania's* shrine because her own

His honored dust;
He was her son, anid unto her alone

Belongs this trust.
So on the shafts of high and lasting fame
Shall glow in living light this ruler's name,
Who from the humblest ranks won with acclaim

A king's demesne.
God keep for aye his noblest thoughts aflame,

His memory green!



Base ball was something which the old whaling captains and sailors of 'Sconset never could understand. "Plate” and "base" and "outfield" and "infield,” “short stop” and “run,” and the many words familiar to those who have looked upon the diamond field, to them were little better than so much South Sea jargon, of which they did know something.

The other evening, in the 'Sconset Club house, some of the old captains were discussing the subject when Cap’n Peleg Bunker entere l. He had been visiting relatives in New York, and with them had seen several games of ball played. Catching on to the discussion, he said:

“I know somethin' about this base ball game now.”

“How is that?” asked Cap'n Jabez Swain, putting his right hand to his ear in acoustic style.

“Well,” said Cap’n Peleg, “perhaps I had better ex. plain it from the beginning. You see there are nine craft in each of the two fleets opposed to one another, and each craft on one side tries in turn to sail the course. The crafts in the other fleet try to cut 'thwart hawse and heave him off his course. It is nine ag'in one all the time.”

" What is the course?" asked Cap'n Eben Hussey.

“Oh! I forgot that,” said Cap’n Peleg. “First, the course is laid out from the p’int of departure goin' eight *Change tu suit locality By permission.

p'ints to starboard six fathoms where a buoy is placed. They then haul up from the buoy, eight p’ints to port, the same distance, and then a second buoy is anchored; then eight p'ints to port ag'in for six fathoms and there a third buoy is put down, from which it is exactly eight p'ints to port, to the p'int of departure, which is the landing each one makes when he gets back from the cruise.”

“ Now we're learnin' somethin',” said Cap’n Ichabod Coffin, “I could always understand a sensible description, even if there wasn't any chart handy. But what is the meanin' of the feller strikin' with a small capstan bar, at a shot when it is fired at him ?

“You're off soundin's," said Cap'n Peleg. “That isn't a capstan bar, it's a ball club; and it isn't a shot that's thrown, but it is purty near it, for it's mighty hard and heavy, and if it hits a man in the diaphragm after takin' his duff, it wouldn't make his digestion any betterthat's the ball. About half way between the landin' and the second buoy, a man stands who throws the ball toward the man who is on the landin' with the club in his hands. He tries to hit the ball as it comes to him and to hit it hard. If he does hit it and doesn't knock it outside the sailin' course, between the landin' and the first buoy or between the third buoy and the landin', he puts his helm hard a-port, hoists all sail and shapes his course for the first buoy. If one of the craft in the other fleet gets the ball before it lands on the ground and the striker has not reached the buoy, or if the craft at the first buoy gets the ball before the runner gets there, the runner is called 'out. That means that he's laid

up in ordinary and he can't handle the club ag'in until his turn comes round.” "That's plain enough,” remarked Cap'n Obed Coleman.

Then,” resumed Cap’n Peleg, "another craft of the same fleet takes the club and tries to sail the course.”

“Well,” said Capn William Paddock, 2d, “I begin to see through it, too. But what is a 'home run?'

" I must explain," continued Cap'n Peleg. When


the craft at the landin' hits the ball and starts to sail over the course, if he gets to the first buoy without bein’ put out, he shapes his course for the second. Then if he sees the course clear he doesn't come to anchor; he doesn't lay to and back his main-yard but hauls up ag'in for the third and sometimes he is able to go off on the port tack ag'in and get to the landin'. As I said, when a man gets safe to the landin' it is called a “run' and when he makes the whole course without stopping, his side logs him a 'home run. Now when three men on one side are out, the whole fleet is off the books and go outside the course, and the other fleet comes into line and the same maneuvre is gone through with. Recollect that when a craft on one side starts on a cruise the whole fleet on the other side tries to head him off, and so they have it back and forth.”

"How do you know which side beats?” asked Cap'n Zaccheus Pitman.

“Well,” said Cap’n Peleg, “each craft has the chance to sail the course nine times, and each time is called an innin', and whichever side makes the most runs beats.”

What is the man back of the landin', who has his face in limboes, and a paunch mat lashed to him for'ard, and one of his hands covered with a three-decker mitten?"

“ He is called the catcher,” said Cap’n Pe'eg, “and as far as I understand it, a good deal depends on him. For instance, if a ball falls near him and he gets it in his flippers, the striker goes out of commission. If he sees one of the fleet sailing from one buoy to another he tries to land the ball, if he gets it, in the hands of the craft at the buoy towards włich the other craft is sailing.”

“ What is the fellow who heaves the ball to the man with the bat,” asked Cap’n Shubael Chase.

“He's the pitcher," answered Cap'n Peleg. “Ile must be a fair gunner, too. He must heave the ball above the bulwarks and below the main-yard. If he doesn't a ball is called on him, and when four are called the striker can drift as slow as he wants to, to the first buoy, and

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