A big, powerful man named Emmick, generally known as "Californy," was engaged one morning in a game of fisticuffs of more or less seriousness, when Bill Carr, a small man, stepped up and struck Emmick, who was too busy with his opponent just then to pay any attention to the impertinent meddler. Nevertheless he bided his time, although "Bill" made himself quite scarce and was nowhere to be seen when "Californy's" bulky form cast a shadow on the sawdust. After a while, however, he grew more confident and returned to a favorite position in front of the fire in the old cook house. He was just comfortably settled when in came "Californy," who pounced on him like a wildcat on a rabbit, stood him on his head and holding him by the heels "chucked" him up and down like a dasher on an old-fashioned churn, until Carr was much subdued, then left him to such reflections as were possible to an all but cracked cranium. It is safe to say he did not soon again meddle with strife. This mode of punishment offers tempting possibilities in cases where the self-conceit of small people is offensively thrust upon their superiors. The village of Seattle crept up the hill from the shore of Elliott Bay, by the laborious removal of the heavy forest, cutting, burning and grubbing of trees and stumps, grading and building of neat residences. In the clearing of a certain piece of property between Fourth and Fifth streets, on Columbia, Seattle, now in the heart of the city, three pioneers participated in a somewhat unique experience. One of them, the irrepressible "Gard" or Gardner Kellogg, now well known as the very popular chief of the fire department of Seattle, has often told the story, which runs somewhat like this: Mr. and Mrs. Gardner Kellogg were dining on a Sunday, with the latter's sister and her husband, Mr. and Mrs. O. C. Shorey, as they often did, at their home on Third Avenue. It was a cold, drizzly day, but in spite of that "Gard" and Mr. Shorey walked out to the edge of the clearing, where the dense young fir trees still held the ground, and the former was soon pushing up a stump fire on his lots. As he poked the fire a bright thought occurred to him and he observed to his companion that he believed it "would save a lot of hard work, digging out the roots, to bring up that old shell and put it under the stump." The "old shell" was one that had been thrown from the sloop-of-war "Decatur" during the Indian war, and had buried itself in the earth without exploding. In excavating for the Kellogg's wood house it had been unearthed. Mr. Shorey thought it might not be safe if some one should pass by: "O, nobody will come out this way this miserable day; it may not go off anyway," was the answer. So the shell was brought up and they dug under the roots of the stump, put it in and returned to the Shorey residence.