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Show ... ii NO DANGER AT ALL. Ttt Is, According to the Captaln'o Line of Reasoning. My grandmother brother Silas was what perhaps now might bo called a Tank, but in his own day and goner-tlon goner-tlon he was spokon of as a "regular inaccountablo.'' He lived with his lister until her death, and, when grandfather camo to live with ub, he insisted upon ctaylng alone In the old house, whero ho could do as he f)leascd. His original ways wcro a sourco of unfailing delight to mo, though hold n great scorn by my grandfather, who had been master of a whaler at 24, and was a man of no mean ability In ither directions. Ono frosty October morning I ran ver tho way to see what Unclo SUaa as up to, and found tho old man seated seat-ed before a crackling red-hot stove, 'tlrrlng with a long-handled spoon tome dark substance in tho frying ian. Many a savory coot stow of Uncle 3l!a8' making had I enjoyed with him, ind I asked eagerly, 'What you doing, Uncle Silas?" "Powder was a lectio damp and I'm lrylng of her off," was tho startling "cply. Off I ran ns fast as my Uttlo egs could carry mo. "Grandpa," I gasped as I tumbled nto our kitchen, "Uncle Silas has got his powder in a pan on a red-hot stove. Ho's drying of her off. Come lulck or he'll bo blown to pieces." Grandfather calmly pressod tho tobacco to-bacco Into the bowl of his pipo with his thumb, and, without looking up, said, soothingly, 'Sho, sonny, don't be fcnlrt. To naught, naught can happen." hap-pen." Boston Herald. |