|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 48
A mile from the river's mouth, and just beyond the limits of Charleston,
is one of the finest sandstone-quarries in the world. The United States
government monopolizes most of its product in the construction of the
magnificent lock and shifting dams in course of erection on the Kanawha
to facilitate the transportation of coal from the immense deposits now
being mined to the great markets of the Ohio River. A little farther on,
the brown front of a timber dam and cribbed lock looks down upon a wild
swirl and rush of water; for through a cut gap in its centre Elk flows
unobstructed,--a penniless mob having made the opening one night that
their canoes might pass free and capitalists be encouraged to remove
such worthless stuff as money from the growing industries of the river.
Prior to this act of vandalism the water was backed by the dam for a
distance of fourteen miles, to Jarrett's Ford, making a halting-place
for rafts and logs, barges and floats, coming down from the vast forests
above when rains and snow-thaws raised the river and its tributaries;
but now a long stretch of boom catches what it can of Elk's commerce and
is a chartered parasite upon it.
Here at the old dam the mountains close in tightly upon the narrow
valley. Log cabins and a few simple frame houses nestle upon diminutive
farms; the wild beauty of shoal and eddy, bouldered channel and
lake-like stretches of pool, rocky walls and timber-clad peaks, begins
to charm the stranger and draw him on and on through scenery as
attractive as grand toss of mountains and delve of river can make it.
By dint of poling, pushing, rowing, and pulling, the boats were worked
over rapids and pools for almost a score of miles, to where the last
rays of the sun slid over a mountain-point and hit Colonel Bangem's hat
as it spun in the air by way of welcome, while the prows clove the water
of a lovely eddy lying in front of his camp. The meeting was that of old
friends, with the addition of a blush from Bess Bangem and its bright
reflection from the Professor's face.
Tim Price took the colonel to one side mysteriously, and whispered, "I
took keer uv the Perfessor my own self: he guv me a power uv trouble,
though. Shell I hitch him now, er let him run loose?"
"We'll turn him loose now, Tim; but if he takes to turning somersets,
catch him, loosen his collar, take off his boots, and throw him into the
river," was the colonel's sober reply.
Scientists nowadays set up Energy as the ancestor of everything, measure
the value of its descendants by the quantity they possess of the family
trait, and spend their time in showing how to utilize it for the good of
mankind in general. Professor Yarren was an apostle of Energy: it
absorbed him, filled him. From the weight of the sun to boiled potatoes,
from the spring of a tiger to the jump of a flea, from the might of
chemical disembodiment to opening an oyster, he calculated, advised, and
dilated upon it. He himself, was the epitome of Energy: in his size he
economized space, in his diet he ate for power, not quantity. To him
eating and sleeping were Energy's warehousemen; idleness was dry-rot,
moth, and mildew; laughing, talking, whistling, singing, somersets, and
fishing, never-to-be-neglected and in-constant-use safety-valves. He
regarded himself as an assimilator of everything that went into him, be
it food, sight, sound, or scent, and his perfection as such in exact
ratio to the product he derived from them. So when next morning he said
"Come on" to the Doctor, and Colonel Bangem, Mrs. Colonel Bangem, Bess
Bangem, and Martha, the mountain-maid, who were all standing in front of
the camp rigged for a day's fishing, he meant that one of Energy's
safety-valves was ready to blow off, and that further delay might be
dangerous to him.
In the Doctor, Energy was stored in bond as it were, subject to duties,
and only to be issued on certificate that it was wanted for use and
everything ready for it: therefore at the Professor's "Come on" he
calmly sat down on a log, filled his pipe, leisurely lighted it, and
good-humoredly remarked, "I am confident that one-half of what we call
life is spent in undoing what we have done, in lamenting the lack of
what we have forgotten, or going back after it: therefore I make it a
rule when everything seems ready for a start--especially when going
fishing--to sit five minutes in calm communion with my pipe, thinking
matters over. It insures against much discomfort from treacherous
memories and neglect."
As the Doctor whiffed at his pipe, he inventoried guns, tackle, lunch,
hammocks, air-cushions, gigs, frog-spears, and all other necessaries for
a day's sport on the river. The result was as he had prophesied,--many
things had been omitted. "Now," said he, when the five minutes were up,
"we might venture down the bank, which, rest assured, each member of
this party will have to climb up again after something left behind."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|