Wild Rose Cape Cod.

.lithe roses in Massachusetts &?■ in Jane, but Wild, the little re I""0 Captain John Rose, was §• taiber, and on Cape Cod, too. _fMis. Struggle it is to live at all Cod in December ! lou have striP of sand to clinff to ' "H Atlantic ocean (even when it is §?• * neat rage) clutches away with P® "le "ffave of its watery hand an *':i tffO of sand, while the cold waters IS Cod bay swept right in on the W__ sight too ; the arm of / SO '■■"--- &-^ WOrn and wasted; ''Look on your map at the state of gUu3etts,and see if I am not right i^Cape Cod, as I said, Wild; £tboru;.butthatwasl2years ; W_Av_i this last December, was fi#Jij*?i birthday. It wasn't. \_ffl acelebration, to be sure, for there -.i'fmanv persons to celebrate it— TtoSe and Johnny and Wild Self, for Captain Bose was gone on a Sa,Sat night, there was upon .the! iabigloafof ginger-cake—' frosted, Sdiroand about it-not on it, mind Small tallow candles. * Twelve WrJohnny said, 'that made as much iiShlanditself.' And Johnny M to know, for the keeper of Cape Slight is a great friend of Johnny s, 2 often-in summer lets the^lad go up M him to see him ' light up.' His Highland light stands out on the, Heskcape, and is oftentimes the first m that greets.:: the sight of - seamen p approaching the coast of New Eng g§ [from over the Atlantic ocean. Jwniin*;summer the wind blows so itd at the Highland that it blows hewmgs of young turkeys over their iads; snd' i!in< winter it blows nobody i iff^hof hard. Ta qaite certain that you have never a home" like Wild Eose's home. It ihiddehiway in the very bottom of a, ig hollow in the sand, and is protected on Lsjdes ,by a high fence to keep the; uk 'fiom. covering it up. In the first, |i» the house had been built upon piles rifeaiato .the sand, but the fence was Seward added, and outside of the fence as a:barricade of seaweed. Over the is, fence, seaweed and all, was the iherman's cabin, as snug and warm and imfortable as anything on Cape Cod yd bei! Not far away, on the Atlantic ast, was a charity house, not a 'poor jnse,'where poor folks could go and live tan they hadn't anywhere else to live, it a rude room, inclosed by a rude itside,' into which a poor shipwrecked inner ;night crawl and possibly save jself from freezing to death until help pld arrive,, Wood and matches and »fißre;supposed to be kept in every ,rity house along the coast. rohony Eose was two years younger an his only sister Wild, but a 10-year dladbn Cape Cod knows more of the a aid ships'and fishing than the wisest oirn-up girl in the world who lives in-

The,; Little Katie was Capfc Rose's ing" schooner, and the Little Katie wfrozea.fastinthe ice more than six sets ago, right in sight from the land up e(bank'above the cabin. Two weeks Iftfi Vy, and still the ioe held the tog-boats and would hot let them ago, , »nt little, went rasping away*/ ith firm bows and good intent at the icd iy after day in order to break it up aijw rffie boats out of danger, but; the*cdl4 Me down stronger than ever ;and Knit _m cakes firmer and firmer. Eiery . ff,Johnny, bundled up until he:leaked fflldont'tknow what, made the toilsome nmey over to the Highland th look trough the 'glass at his father's sofhooner, }o, every night for two week/ with a «c on fire from the friction of ihe wind, ?came back with the, good ijews, 'jBTd pdupyet.' 'J\ j V ":-,' ■f. ■Jo signal yetmeant tha/there was BiSomething4eft to eat a£d wood to anion the Little. Katie, &d hope also t getting foe from the ice£ without sink * fr' $ - ■■?':■ I . f S*S thea a, nei Wfcr came down muT, ? Uo*r and waWed" right in with i g|gte at tho cabm door, to inquire !.; J^fri WaS etting on, and to say, '•...' "°"f tfcffi Qed has seen harder •ith\f^:* l-1 i ose' Keep up a i J+w„ _W ;&vrbor befdre many days.' S.M 136! Eo^ would put on a SrH^ in a cheery voice, BiiSJSsP'fo? did she n°fc Godh&d^ toe S«& eJ^ e £ da*> whe» rs JffiS? ? lld mjSht RO to the light Rie ■sfe!X; d,iM 1 rßn sot «ff in high glee. *£S*H ' ,Bl*; aJ r was wLS ™ tbe West' ' Tfie Highland ißfe-^l^-^^-'Wf mile «,# W W% ? ul<i^ap|en.'t6 the *en* SJ cve fh^e3s,^MrssEose gave t^T 1? coiimands. They were to UiiiOT P.Sej^ound out what 'IftSKPL c lr ttl£</ Eatief and,' if it X 6y 'W # So IbacKor ■»» ch4er way ahouldJbe the i' tlie COa3t ' thoy were to in the bank and ■, 'k.:-" ¥$* reteie.

»Ed theni on their way, ) exact truth, blew so tliafcjt.e^p very ueix

• <'"■>■ x'\ 'Vi'"-^'^!

uxuwing mem past tne light-house over the high bank into the ocean. 'It's a tough day, a tough day, even for the Cape,' said the light-keeper when they reached the light-house, * and the boats have drifted, Johnny. For the life of me, I can't make out the Little Katie ;' but Johnny made her out without the slightest difficulty. Of course he did ! Does not every Cape Cod boy know h IS father's boat? More than all, there hung the signal of distress. The light-keeper saw it, and Wild looked at it, and Johnny looked again, and declared that, 'Come what would, he'd get out there and find out what the matter was/ Then the 'glass' was put away, and they all went down, and the children, thoroughly warmed started for home. A little cloud over Cape Cod bay grew and came nearer and spread out more and more, and at last began to drop down white like snow on the sand. 'Come ! pitch into it as fast as you can while we can see,' said Johnny, seizing Wild's hand and bowing to the wind. * We're three-quarters home, and we'll make it in no time.' It was not dark, and Johnny knew the sand-marks well. Here a bunch of poverty-grass and there a forlorn little clump of bayberry, whose outlines he knew just as he knew the outlines of the boats and sails, served to guide him when the air was thick with snow. 'We're lost!' said Wild, pulling back and trying to stop Johnny ; but the sturdy little fellow declared that they weren't lost at all; didn't he know all about it ? hadn't he ' fogged' it many a time to the light and back? Why, there, right ahead, was a pole that he knew. Of course it was, right on top of home ; and there was mother calling this minute, not fifty feet away. All of which statements were quite true; and in five minutes they were safe in the cabin, and had told their news from the ice-bound boats. 'Nothing to eat, may-be, and cold, perhaps. -Not sick, I hope,' said Mrs. fiose; and then, in rather a dismal way, she set forth the little table for their evening meal. 'I should think you'd feel gladder about our getting home safe, mother,' j said Wild; ' for just see how it snows.' ' I am,' said Mrs. Rose,'; ' but I was thinking about some way to help your j father.' ' Do you think there is a way ?' asked Wild. ' You know the boats can't get' there, and the ice isn't safe.' 'If I was God,' said Johnny, ' I'd fetch" a big wind along that 'ud cracker that ice up small as fish-scales in no time.' ' Yes, and sink every boat in no time !', suggested Wild, with scorn. • ' Oh, dear !' said Johnny, > 1 guess I was in too much of a hurry; but some thing's got to be done !' / The wind had been Rowing two hours after dark, and the sfiow and sand were whirling about in alorhg, long rouncl dance, after the fashion x# Cape Cod cand and snow, when Wpra called oat of the dark ness to Johnny: 'Are yog/asleep ?' Johnny/ guessed he wasn't asleep, although he had been fast asleep when Wild'^voice reached him, and wanted to kno^what was the matter. 'I've thought of a way, I guess, we cad reach the Little Katie, Johnny.' /'How?' Johnny was up in bed, leaning on his hands, interested, in a moment. ' You know that big hank of net-twine of father's ?' 'What of it ?' with disappointment. f Don't you believe 'twould reach ?' 'Whose goin' to reach it, I should like to* know ?' ' When the wind blows right ' 'What then, Wild Rose? Are you talking in your sleep ?' •Send a kite over!' suggested Wild, not heeding the interruption. 'Whew!' exclaimed Johnny, sinking down into his warm bed again. He didn't speak, and poor Wild thought he held her scheme in extreme derision; nevertheless, Johnny was thinking about it, even after his sister was sleeping, The next day, it snowed all day. There I was no chance to hear one word from the j fishing-fleet. Johnny declared that he , must go to the nearest neighbor's house, j He knew the way well enough; but it was after 9 of the clock before he set forth. ~,-,- n Presently he returned with his friend, Peter Petit, and the two lads spent the morning, with barred door, in Captain Eose's net-room. Wild peeped into the place when tiie boys were out of it eating their dinner, and behold, to her amazement, the skeleton of a huge kite. « O Johnny ! are you going to try it r she cried, running out to him. At,first, Johnny was vexed that she had found out, but in a minute or two he was all over the pet, and was in high glee when Wild and her mother also joined in the work. An hour before the sun went down across the bay, the kite was done and the snow ceased to fall. It was too late to go to the Highland light to see the signal on the Little Katie; it was too late to do anything with the kite, even/ had the wind been right. mm ./ The next morning the wind blew just right, and almost at break of day the boys set forth, accompanied by fiv^or six men, for idlers are always to be found on Cape Cod in winter. /

The kite was made of good stout paper, and it was coyered with messages to the

captain of the Little Katie, or any other captain over whose boat it might chance to fall, or get entangled. The wind was off shore, and away went the kite, the men paying out the seine twine, but alas ! the kite went high above the boats and did not reach them. It was cold work flying kite on the awful, ice-bound shore, but the novelty of it brought a crowd of men to the spot. To their own surprise they entered into the work with spirit, -but every attempt that morning, failed. The kite fell short, or flew too high, or went off in the wrong direction.

' Run home, ladaies, and get your dinner, and get warm clear through to your bones,' said one of the men to Johnny and Peter, about 11 of the clock, ' and we'll see what can be done with the kite, this afternoon.'

When Johnny reached home he declared that he wasn't cold the least mite, nor hungry the least atom, but he sat in front of a blazing drift-wood .fire and ate like a giant, and got up to go to the coast again.

Wild didn't see why she couldn't go, too. It was her father just as much as Johnny's, and she guessed she cared as much about the Little Katie as any of them did. And so Wild, bundled up until all resemblance to a 12-year-old girl was lost, set forth, toiling through the snow and sand to the coast. At a short distance in the rear, Mrs Rose fol lowed on. It seemed to her, as she drew near the shore, that half the inhabitants of the next village were gathered to see the flying of a kite. It; was just ready to start on its over-ice journey when Wild came upon the scene.

* Don't you see, there won't be anything to catch hold of ?' she said to Johnny.

'Catch hold of?' repeated Johnny, who felt that he could not, in "justice, despise Wild's suggestions any more. 'I'll show you,' she said, 'if you'll hold on a minute. Tie some long strings, now and then near the kice, that will hang down.'

The strings were tied on, half a dozen of them, at intervals, and away went the kite, with more ' string to it' than any other kibe ever flew.

' Twon't reach ! |It flies too high ! No go Let out! Give it string ! Hurrah !' as the kite, seeming to meet wind in another current began to flutter, turn and actually did fall on the ice within reaching distance of the Little Katie's crew.

Then such a shout as went up from Cape Cod shore,' for was there not a line fast from one of the ice-bound boats to the firm, old main-land,: and did it not mean that bread at least could be drawn across the frozen sea to the famishing ?

The men on the Little Katie were pulling in the kite, which looked a good deal worn but still they 'gathered around it, and read in Johnny's boy-hand the words : 'If you get the kite, don't pull in the string, for we'll Sput jjome thing to eat on it if you are'hungry, and you can pull it over. Everybody's well over here.—Wild and Johnny.' Captain Rose read the words, and then he and his crew tried to shout back, but the wind carried their voices across the bay. Within the next 24 hours the cord had been doubled, and food in small packages went along the novel road-way from hour to hour, until miles of seine twine lay on the deck of the Little Katie and many loaves of bread with small packages of ' salt meat,' sugar, tea and coffee, had been secured from the sea.

The next morning, the wind blew again on Cape Cod. The inhabitants were on the watch for the kite, and, lo ! it was seen rising in the air. On, on, it came. It Bailed over the heads of the group on the shore ; it went right across the ' Wrist' of Cape Cod. It would have gone out upon the ocean, but for the Highland light-house that caught and held the great fluttering bird of man. Wild and Johnny were the first to reach the light aod cry out. ' What news V to the keeper, who had just succeeded in recovering the poor battered kite. ' Come and see with your young eyes. Wild and Johnny found the words : 'We had had nothing to eat for two days. Now, we'll weather the ice, God willing, and get in all right. We've supplied the Mary from our stores.' And there, right at the door, the nrst comers, who had followed the kite, were Mrs Rose and the friends of the men of the Mary. ' Whose idea was the kite?' asked an old fisherman.

* Wild's,' shouted Johnny. _ 'Johnny made it, though. I couldnt make a kite,' said Wild ; but not a boul, save Johnny, heard her, for the wild a'.r about the light was ringing with the shout, of ' Long live Wild Rose of Cape Cod I' .

Musical GeniuS Hereditary.

TTekedity shows itself mate markedly, it would seem, in the arts than in the sciences. Taking music, we find some remarkable in stances. The Bach family, which took its rise in 1550 and became extinct in 1800, presents an unbroken series of musicians for nearly two centuries of that interval.. The head of the family was Veit Bach, a baker of Presburg, aa'd his two sons were the first of the famUy/who were musicians by profession. The descendants literally 'overrun Thuriiigia, Saxony and Franconia,' says Pappillon. ' They were all organists, church singers, or, wbkt is called in Germany, city musicians. JT^hen they became too numerous to live all Wether, and the members of this family were scattered abroad, they resolved to meet once a year, on a stated day, with a view to keep up a sort of patriarchal bond of union. This custom was kept up until nearly the middle of the eighteenth century, and often times more than one hundred persons bearing the name of Bach, men, women, and children were to be seen assembled. In the family are reckoned twenty-nine eminent musicians and twenty-eighbof»lower gradv;"^Koaaini'a

family played music at fairs ; Beethoven's father and grandfather were musicians ; Mo zart's father was Second Capellmeister to the Prince-Bishop of Salzburg.— Cornhill Magazine.

My Carpet Bag.

My name is John Holton. lam verg ing on forty, am Bingle, and always intend to remain so. I add this latter clause to prevent any old maid who may see my name in the paper from writing to me or sending me her pho tograph. —If there is anything on earth that I particularly despise, it is carpet bags. I had rather wear a dirty shirt a fortnight, and button my vest to my throat to conceal the absence of a collar than carry one of these nuisan ces. They are always in the way. A man looks like a porter carrying one, and everybody glances in his direction with a sort of high-bred contempt, fancying him a peddler or a scissors grinder. Pretty girls draw away to let him $ass, and old ladies eye him suspiciously, and inform their neigh bours that they have known small-pox to be carried in carpet-bags. In omnibuses it is always flying out of your hands on to the toes of your vis-a-vis : in railway stations you are afraid to put it down a moment lest some one should appropriate it; and in a railway carriage it is perfectly in tolerable, If you put it on the seat somebody will be sure to want that very seat; if you lay it on the floor somebody will tread on it, smash your bottle of hair dye, and condemn you to look ten years older thanusualfor the next ten days; if you hang it up, some man who is soft enough to wear a tall beaver will strike his head against it, and glance at you with a small volcano in his eyes ; and if you wrap it in your shawl, and hold it in your arms, all the women in the carriage will mistake you for a widower, carrying a baby, and will beg to be allowed to kiss the little darling just once, for its poor mother's sake.

But to commence with my own individual experience :

I was sent by the firm with which I was connected to a distant town last autumn on business of importance, which would keeep me absent some eight or ten days. Of course, it was necessary for me to have changes of clothing, and there was nothing for it but to take a carpet bag. I set out for the railway, feeling very much like a culprit, my well stuffed bag swinging against the legs of every man I encountered, and being sniffed at by all the dogs on the road. I rather suspect they smelled the blad der of Scotch snuff I had recently pur chased, and packed in with my other things; for you must know that my only bad habit is snuff-taking, very mild sin, I think. 1 had proceeded about half the dis tance when a 'bus, pretty heavily loaded, overtook me. The driver drew in his horses : j

' Bide, sir ? Your carpet-bag looks heavy ?'

'No.' I growled, plodding on, con scious that several pairs of feminine eyes regarded me from the windows. 'Book agent or track peddler,' remarked the driver to a man beside him.

' G-ot his clean collars in that bag,' said a squeaking female voice—'l'll warrant he's going a courting. Looks dreadful sheepish. 7 And the vehicle whirled away.

I took a cross-path and reached the station full five minutes ahead of it, and had the satisfaction of hearing one woman say to another, indicating me with a nod of her bonnet:

' There, that fellow with the carpet bag looks exactly like the chap that stole my silver spoons when we had our tea-party. Wish I could see the inside of his valise.'

I made a dive for the door of the first carriage—a young lady was des cending the steps at the same time, with a band-box in her hand.

I was in a hurry, and did not stop for ceremony. My carpet-bag went thump against her band-box —smashed in the side of the abomination, and out rolled a French bonnet, a pair of old boots, a puff ball, a pink saucer, a bottle of concentrated muskrat, and a yellow-covered novel. The lady screamed, the guard growled at me, and I made the best of my way into the carriage.

I put my carpet-bag on the seat be- j side me, and employed myself by look- j ing out of the window. At the nextij station ai fatladyi radiaritf i*K J irtir{M

ri 1 , bugle trimming, was added tc ?( -foad. She swept the carriage witii jn^eyes, and travelled straight for me. Before I could lift a finger to prevent it, she had sunk down with a w

sigh of satisfaction on my carpet-bag, and at the same time there was a

stunning report, and the whole air was filled with floating particles of my Scotch snuff. She had burst the bladder, and the valise not being locked, was not so tenacious of the contents as it might have been.

The lady began to sneeze —so did I —so did the whole £ travelling com munity.

. Heavens!' cried she, f what is it ? I shall choke to death!'

I seized the handle of my bag. She sprang to her feet, cast on me a look of ineffable scorn, and found another seat.

I hung up the bag then, and thought my troubles over; but no—the carriage gave another lurch, and off the hook bounced my carpet-bag, plump on to the head of a primf spinster behind me. I know she was a spinster, because her bonnet was trimmed in green.

She screamed, hopped up, fainted, and fell into the arms of a fellow passenger. She was stout, he was thin —his equilibrium was destroyed—over he went into the lap of my fat woman in purple ribbons. She felt herself in sulted, and said she'd inform the traffic manager, who was on the train, got up for that purpose, and hitched head long into the gold-bowed spectacles of a literary gentleman, who was reading a book. Beads and bugles darkened the air—the literary gentleman looked politely, surprised, and remarked to his neighbour that he must get out an article on the evils attending indul gence in strong drinks. The fat lady subsided; the guard bore the green trimmed spinster off to the saloon, and quiet was restored.

I reached my destination just as dusk was falling. I made my way to an hotel, carpet-bag in hand. They showed me up to a room in the second story, and informed me that the sup per was just ready. I did not light up; but my face felt hot and dusty, and, plunging my hand into my carpet bag, I drew out a bottle of cosmetic I always use, and washed my face with it, wiping it with my handkerchief. Then I got a fresh handkerchief from my bag and descended to the dining room.

There was a perfect blaze of light, and a great many people were present. I seated myself at one of the tables, for I was powerful hungry, and took out my handkerchief to wipe my face. People looked at each other and grin ned. One pretty girl giggled right out. I glanced at my handkerchief— and good gracious! it was one of those embroidered contrivances, yclept bibs !

I was about to swear a word or two, when a waiter tapped me on the arm.

' I beg your pardon, sir,' said he, ' but perhaps you are unaware of your present appearance ?' He quietly faced me about, so that I saw my reflection in the mirror, and, good gracious! I was black as the ace of spades! It flashed over me in an instant—l had taken the wrong carpet-bag, and washed my face with the contents of somebody's ink-bottle!

I rushed up stairs and into my room, and, pulling off my coat and boots, jumped into bed in the dark. I meant to lie only long enough to recover my wits, but slumber overcame me, and I was roused at last by the shining of a lamp in my face. I peeped through the curtains and saw two ladies stand ing before the glass taking down their hair. I gazed at them like one spek bound. lam free to confess that I was never so astonished in all my life. They took out at least five pounds of stuffed bags from their locks, and then, to crown the whole, they actually scalped themselves and put their hair in a box.

One of them turned down the bed, saw me, and grew white as a sheet. She threw up her hands and screamed.

I sprang out. The ladies flew from the room, down the stairs, and I after them.

They called me a black man, said I had intended to rob and murder them, and the manager agreed with them.

I took the liberty of blowing up the whole establishment, and got helped out of it by the boot of the landlord.

I bought a coat and a pair of boots at a shop, and had the felicity of wandering about, the streets until morning—this hotel being the only one in the place., .'

I have not seen my earpetrbag since. lineverKdesiDeotoffletieye&'PSt iQniß of fhft 3triW^gaai-4Jn^^3Ju^ imn wita

Evening Star Supplement, December 4, I&VS.