384 THE GRANITE MONTHLY.
he was run down by an English bark off Cape Ann. He signaled the bark to bear away, but it paid no heed to his signal, and passed over the schooner amid-ships. The crew jumped for the bark. The captain rushed into the cabin to save his trunk, containing the papers of the ship. When he came on deck the water was fast filling the schooner. He was dragged by the collar of his shirt into the bark just in time to see the masts of his schooner sinking out of sight into the seething waters. The captain of the English ship was very curt, and declared that he would not put them into any port ; but carried them to Liverpool. Captain Hobbs's family were expecting him home in a short time after he sailed from North Carolina ; but he did not come. Soon they got news of this topsail schooner that was run down and sunk off Cape Ann. They had no news of the crew, and the captain's family gave him up for lost. After several months he reached home, starting from Liverpool on the first vessel bound for the States. He had lost his vessel and his cargo. He said : " Aly luck has turned. I shall never sail again." He tried to recover damage from the owners of the bark, but the courts decided against him. The little hair trunk, studded with brass nails, which was saved from the sink- ing ship, is in the possession of the Captain's eldest daughter, an old lady, now on the threshold of her ninetieth year.
St. .'\ll);n.'. cove at low tide is one great thatch bed, and skirting tlie river- way along we find this coarse grass growing. Thatch beds are considered quite a goo.i property for farmers to possess. The beds do not always belong to the fields or pastures lying immediately back of them. Parties living at a distance frequently own them.
In September, or often later, the thatch is cut. Nearly every bed is so solt that the men have to carry the thatch out on poles to the shore. On some beds the thatch is cut at low tide, then a strong line, wound with thatch, is carried around the bed and fastened to a stake at one side. When the tide begins to rise and the grass floats, the men begin to pull in on the line, and the thatch by this means is brought to shore. This process is called "lining in."
When a child I used to wander by the river side, and watch the lampreys. They would fasten to a rock by their mouths, and cling most tenaciously. I have, by dint of hard pushing with a stick, made them let go the rock, then I would hasten to investigate their mouths. Their teeth are set very much like the teeth in an old-fashioned corn-sheller.
Once I found a horse-shoe, or king's (TMb. . I grabbed him by his tail. He made a mighty effort to escape, but I took him out, thatch roots and all. I carried him home, tied a string to him, drove a stake in the ditch near a spring, and fastened him there and watched his movements. Alas I His movements were feeble, and he soon passed to the " land of the leal." Thus ended my first lesson in natural history.
Not far below St. Alban's co\'e, three points make out into the river. Pine, Henderson's, and High, are the names by which they are designated. High point is quite a promontory. Once I drove for a mile or more through the woods, across the " Plains," and came out on High point. It was in July, and the cool breeze which came floating off" the river seemed very grateful to me. I sat among the fragrant bayberry and sweet fern bushes. Glossy check- erberry and trailing partridge vines nestled at my feet. Tall pines were whis- peiing over my head, and the supple branches of the young hemlocks growing on the steep banks of the |)oint were swaying lazily in the breeze. As I looked off on the river, I thought the point suitably named. One spring since, during a search for the shy trailing arl)utus, I again visited the point. I missed the growth back, and found much brush in the wheel-path ; but the mystery
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