Harper's Round Table, June 18, 1895 Part 6

[Ill.u.s.tration: STAMPS]

This department is conducted in the Interest of Stamp and Coin Collectors, and the Editor will be pleased to answer any question on these subjects so far as possible. Correspondents should address Editor Stamp Department.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Perforation sizes are determined by the number of holes contained in the s.p.a.ce between the two vertical white lines.]

Last week we printed an ill.u.s.tration of the different kinds of perforations. This week we ill.u.s.trate the scale of regular perforations.

If you will look at your U. S. stamps of the 1857 issue you will see that the scale is "perforated 15." The Baden stamps of 1864 are "perforated 10." To find the scale take the stamp and lay it face downward on the scale, and when the perforations on the stamp correspond exactly to those on the scale you have the required scale of perforations. Take the common 2c. of the current U. S. issue, lay it on the line of dots marked 12 on the scale, and you will find it just fits.

By moving the stamp just one-half the distance between two dots, and placing the stamp just a little below the row of white dots, you will get a series of black circles, the top of which is made by the row of white dots on the scale, and the bottom by the row of perforations on the stamp. This is a very important matter, as a stamp perforated 12-1/2 may be very common and cost little, while the same stamp perforated 15 may be a very rare and a very valuable stamp. All U.S. stamps since 1861 are perforated. One of the chief merits of stamp-collecting is that it strengthens the powers of observation in so many different directions.

Copies of the "Bismarck celebration postal-card" are now on sale with the dealers. There are a number of varieties, some printed in tint, others in three or four colors. It has not been established whether these cards were good for postage without any stamp being affixed or not.

The orange special delivery stamp will probably be the most valuable of this cla.s.s, as it was in circulation a short time only. Some of the previous issues can still be had at the smaller post-offices.

It is rumored that the $1 black of the current issue will soon be printed in another color. Collectors should secure it now.

The eight-cent current issue it is said will soon be issued with the "white line" triangles.

MELBOURNE S. MAYER.--The stamp you have is probably one of the first lot printed under the present contract. Most collectors consider it a distinct variety.

AMY LINCOLN.--You probably have the 3c. rose of 1861. The pink is very rare, and of a peculiar shade on a bluish ground.

HENRY L. WATSON.--The Tuscany stamps are worth 30c. for the one crazie, 12c. for the two crazie, 15c. for the six crazie. The San Marino stamps are worth 25c. and 50c. respectively. If used on the original envelope probably twice as much.

GARDNER B. WEEKS.--Postal-cards are collected entire only. Cut copes have no value.

E. G.--I have never seen the 3c. embossed stamp mentioned by you.

Probably it is blurred in printing. The German stamp is a local, the Italian a revenue.

J. S. GREEN.--There are two kinds of 10c. Confederate blue which are very common. Stamp dealers sell them at 10c. and 25c.

respectively.

A. GRANT.--As the date cannot be seen on the coin it has no value for collection purposes.

J. G. W.--There is no 25c. Columbian. The stamp you mention is twenty-five centavos Venezuela, which looks just like the Columbian issues.

LAWRENCE.--Blood's Despatch, gold, is worth from $2 to $3 if on the original letter. Bouton's Rough and Ready is quoted from $5 to $25 if on original envelope. Boyd's have been reprinted and affixed to old letters so much that genuine copies have suffered in value.

D. MCKILLOP.--The 10c. green U. S. 1861 is worth 6c., the 6c.

Lincoln 2c., the one s.h.i.+lling English 15c., the threepenny English 1c.

PHILATUS.

THE OLD STAGE-COACH.

Dingy and old and worn, Battered and scratched and torn, Flapping in every sudden gust Doors that creaked with their ancient rust, So it stood in the Burbank shed-- One hundred and ten years old, they said-- When I was a lad, and used to play "Driving stage," at the close of day.

Never an inch did the old wheels stir; Rusted fast at the hubs they were.

Yet how strong were my steeds, and fleet, Streaming out 'neath the driver's seat!

Over what hills and plains I sped, Rocking there in the Burbank shed!

_Crack!_ and the leaders sprang away; Satin-sheened in their coats of bay, Six broad backs at the driver's feet, Surging into the village street.

Oh, it was grand! What a race we led!

Though the stage stood still in the Burbank shed.

Ah! the fright of a certain day, Just at dusk, in the month of May, When I climbed to the creaking door-- Bolder, surely, than e'er before-- Crying, "Out here, you ghosts--be quick!"

And struck the seat with resounding stick.

Ha! with a din that would wake the dead Straight there sprang at my shrinking head Something winged and as white as snow!

Down I sank in a heap below, While with cackle of loud reproach Flew a _hen_ from the old stage-coach, Leaving there on the tattered seat Something fit for a king to eat!

Long ago to the junkman's store Last of the old stage-coach they bore; Bolt and axle and rusty tire All were mixed in the forge's fire.

But I can see it in tattered state Waiting yet for its ghostly freight: Powdered sirs with their shovel-hats, Stately dames with their cloaks and mats; While to the box, with a s.h.i.+vering joy, Climbs a rosy-faced country boy!

Oh, the charm of the Long Ago, Youth's Valhalla, and Fancy's glow Lighting many a dim old page With such a relic as Burbank's stage!

Just for a glimpse of its chrome and red, Fading there in the ruined shed!

Just for an hour of the rare old play, "Driving stage" at the close of day!

What are all one may say or do To what he _dreams_ when his life is new?

JAMES BUCKHAM.

THE PROPER USE OF A SHOT-GUN.

Though shooting, like many other sports, can be a very dangerous amus.e.m.e.nt for boys--and men, too, for that matter--there is no reason why boys as well as men should not learn how to use a gun, and get much amus.e.m.e.nt and benefit out of hunting. It is all a question of learning what the dangers of gunning are, and learning how to avoid them. Fire is a dangerous thing in its way, and yet we all have fires. Gunning is no more dangerous, if carefully taken up, and a boy of fifteen or sixteen is quite old enough to learn what the dangers of a shot-gun are, to respect them and avoid them. Naturally any parent, especially one who knows nothing about rifles or shot-guns himself, is very chary about letting his son go off alone with one on his shoulder, and it is quite as natural for his mother to think she has seen the last of her boy as he disappears in the woods on his first sporting expedition. But there is really no other reason for this than that boys are naturally careless, and guns can be dangerous and deadly if treated in a careless manner.

The whole secret of shooting and the use of fire-arms can be stated in a few words: _Never, under any circ.u.mstances, point a gun at any one, whether loaded or not, whither in pieces or ready for use._ If it is never pointed at any one, it cannot very well kill or wound any one. In like manner you can never succeed in shooting yourself unless you have already pointed the muzzle at yourself. I have seen many a crack shot and old-time sportsman shudder as he saw a green hand hold up the detached barrel of a shot-gun while cleaning it, and point it at some one. Of course the two steel barrels could not possibly "go off" by themselves, with no b.u.t.t and no cartridges, and the sportsman shudders only because he dreads the greenhorn who, even under such circ.u.mstances, allows himself to get into the habit of putting up the muzzles in such a position. If he does it at home while cleaning the barrels, he may do it out in the woods some day when the barrel is attached to the stock, and perhaps loaded with cartridges, and then there may really be danger for any one who is near by.

The only accidents that can occur if the muzzle is never pointed at any one are, first, the bursting of the gun itself, which is unlikely, unless the piece is badly made, cheap, or very old; and secondly, the presence of some one in the woods who is not within the cognizance of the sportsman. As I say, the first is uncommon nowadays with the carefully made breech-loading guns. The second never occurs if the sportsman invariably keeps his muzzle pointed toward the earth, about five feet or less in advance of him, and if, when he does fire, he makes sure what he is firing at and where his shot is likely to go after firing.

A good sportsman is familiar with his piece, and brave enough to be afraid of it. From the time he takes it out of the case the muzzle of the barrels is on his mind until he has taken it to pieces, cleaned it, and put it away in his case. When he starts out in the morning, he takes out the barrels, and pointing them towards the earth as he holds them in his left hand, he springs the stock into its place with his right. Then having fixed on the little piece of wood which clinches the two parts together, he pa.s.ses his right arm around the barrels, so that as he carries it the stock points up and behind him at an angle of about forty-five degrees, and the barrels point down toward the earth at a similar angle in front of him. Around his waist or in his pockets he carries cartridges. No charge goes into his gun until he has not only left the house but actually arrived on the grounds where he expects to find game. If he has to drive to the proper woods or the shooting-stands or blinds, he places the piece in the bottom of the wagon, pointing out towards the rear, never once allowing it to point towards himself or any one else who may be standing by. If he is near enough to the woods or sh.o.r.e to walk he carries the gun as described, unloaded, until he reaches the proper place. When climbing over fences, whether with cartridges in place or not, he places the gun under the fence flat on the ground, climbs over or under, and then picks it up from the other side. Resting a shooting-piece against a fence or wall in an upright position shows the greenhorn or the careless and therefore poor sportsman. The fence may be rickety, or the stones on the wall easily detached. In either case it only takes a little jarring to cause the shot-gun to slide one way or the other and fall to the ground, and in doing so it may very easily go off. If it is unloaded this would, of course, do no harm. But if it is never allowed to get into the position where it may so slide, it certainly can never go off, loaded or unloaded. In other words, form the habit of never giving a gun the chance of sliding or going off, and then you can never have an accident.

This is not a sign of timidity, and you would soon realize it if you could see how carefully some famous old sportsman who is a friend of your father's handles his firing-piece.

On arriving finally at the particular woods you have planned to cover, or the "blinds" which you are going to lie in, put in the charges, and then all is ready for the sport.

Most of the danger after this stage of the proceedings has been reached is again only through carelessness or excitement over the sport, which is only another word for carelessness. For example, you are in the woods and a bird flies out among the branches. In your excitement at the sudden flush of the partridge you throw up your gun and "blaze away,"

forgetting that the other man with you is just ahead. That is rank carelessness. For no two sportsmen ever lose track of each other. If they happen to be out of sight of each other, and within range, they keep up a constant conversation, or call to each other continually, so that from moment to moment each knows where the other is. Again, when two men are standing close beside each other and a covey jumps up under their guns, there has to be a quick swing to right or left. Usually, under these circ.u.mstances, the man on the right takes the right-hand shot, and the one on the left takes the left-hand shot. If the right-hand man swings to the left he may very easily bring his friend in the line of his muzzle.

As regards the half and full c.o.c.k of the hammers, there is one safe rule to follow. When on the actual ground, and following dogs on the scent or pointing, the gun must, of course, be at full c.o.c.k. But whenever a fence is to be climbed, or a bad bit of close underbrush broken through, the hammers should be dropped carefully to half c.o.c.k, or, if the gun is hammerless, the half-c.o.c.k trigger should be sprung.

In all this the important point is that every man or boy, while carrying a shooting-piece, should have his mind on what he is doing, and should never for a moment lose his head. It is far better to lose a shot than to hit a friend or take the slightest chance of hitting him. On the other hand, if a boy thinks the matter over and follows out these rules, there is not the least danger in his owning and using a shot-gun, and the amount of exercise to both brain and body which he can get out of it is astonis.h.i.+ng. When you begin you need your father's advice as to the proper way of holding the gun, taking aim, and bringing down the game.

But after that nothing is necessary but your own coolness, presence of mind, and care.

The b.u.t.t should come up quickly and firmly to the shoulder, resting against the shoulder itself rather than the biceps or top of the arm, and you should acquire the habit, which can only come with practice, of getting it up quickly, steadily, and firmly the first time in the right place. Otherwise the "kicking" may be severe and painful. The aim should be taken with both eyes open, though the right eye does the aiming. The objection to sighting with the left eye closed is that the operation of closing the left-eye always half closes the right, and hence makes your sight a little less distinct and somewhat unnatural. This sighting with both eyes open is a little bewildering at first, but it soon becomes natural, and the whole operation then becomes a kind of second nature.