Read Ebook: Harper's Young People September 6 1881 An Illustrated Weekly by Various

Font size: 10 px 15 px 20 px 25 px 30 px 35 px

Background color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Text color: BlackWhiteGrayLight GrayDark GrayDim Gray

Apply/Save settings

Ebook has 234 lines and 23961 words, and 5 pages

The old cook's advice was the same as that given by Bobby, and was followed at once, because it came from a semi-official source, and in a few moments afterward Tim was groaning in his berth, while Bobby sat by his side, and tried to persuade him to partake of some of the candy he had bought just before leaving port.

Tim refused the offering, and for the first time in his life looked upon candy as the stickiest kind of a fraud. He felt as though the kindest thing any one could do would be to throw him overboard in the midst of that treacherous sea which was causing him so much internal commotion.

He had been in his berth about an hour, although it seemed to him fully a week, when Mr. Rankin came into the forecastle, and told him that Captain Pratt had given positive and angrily issued orders that he be brought on deck.

A moment before, Tim would have thought it impossible for him to move, and felt that he would not be frightened by a dozen Captain Pratts; but the instant Mr. Rankin spoke, the thoughts of that whipping, the smart of which could still be felt, was sufficient to give him strength to make the attempt.

Staggering to his feet, encouraged by the kind-hearted steward, who pitied him sincerely, he crawled up the narrow companionway, shuddering as he went, and catching his breath in sickness and fear at each lurch of the steamer.

Bobby, who was awed into silence by the fear of the Captain which he saw plainly written on the faces of Mr. Rankin and Tim, would have gone with his friend at least a portion of the way if Tim had not motioned him back. If he was to be whipped for being sick, he very much preferred that his new friend should not witness the punishment. It was with the greatest difficulty he managed to keep on his feet as he staggered along the deck to the wheel-house, and just as he reached there, and had opened the door, a sudden lurch of the steamer sent him spinning into the room headlong.

It was unfortunate that Captain Pratt was sitting directly opposite the door, smoking, for he was directly in the way of Tim when the steamer shot him into the wheel-house like a stone from a sling, and the boy's head struck with no gentle force full on the chest of his irritable employer.

The mildest-mannered man would have been provoked if a boy even no larger than Tim had been thrown at him in this way, and Captain Pratt, always ill-tempered, had all his ire aroused by the blow that very nearly took away his breath.

As soon as he recovered from the effects of the blow, he seized Tim, who had continued on his flight until he landed, a forlorn little specimen, in one corner of the room, and shook him as a cat shakes a mouse after she has had a long chase to catch him.

"Is this the way you try to get even with me?" cried the angry man, slapping Tim first on one side of the head and then on the other with a force that made his teeth chatter. "What do you mean by such actions? Answer me--what do you mean?"

"I don't mean anything," said the boy, piteously. "I was comin' in all right, when the boat tipped up, an' I slid right along. I was seasick, an' I couldn't help it."

"Then I'll help it for you," roared the Captain, and he flogged Tim until he thought he had been punished enough to cure him.

It seemed to Tim as if either the flogging or the sickness would have been sufficient alone, but to have both filled his heart with all the sadness and grief it could well contain.

THE LITTLE BOARDERS.

BY WILLIAM O. STODDARD.

"Why not?" exclaimed Barbie Kyle; but little Ben was reaching over too far after a stick in the water, and before she could pull him back a shrill, cracked voice came down from the bank above the beach:

"Look a-heah, you chil'en! wot you doin' wid my boat?"

"Yes, Kisedek, and if we hadn't kept your boat off shore, she'd have been high and dry by this time."

"Dat's so. De tide's out, but it's a-comin' in agin. Jes' you fotch de boat right in."

"Are you going a-fishing?" asked little Ben Kyle.

"Now, Kisedek Pound," said Barbie Kyle, "she's right there, and she's been there ever so long."

"Dat's so. Dah she is. But she's gwine away, chil'en."

"Going away!" said Jim Ridgeway. "I'd like to see her do it. She's half full of water, and stuck in the mud."

"Dat's so, but den it ain't jes' so. Dar's been men a-nailin' up de holes in her so she'd float. Dey jes' druv away all de black-fish. De fish won't come no moah, now dey can't git inside."

"We want to board her anyhow," began Jim Ridgeway; but Willy Kyle interrupted him:

"Do you know what they're going to do with her when she's mended?"

"Wot'll dey do wid her? Wid dat ar ole wreck? Dat's de berry queshion yer fader said to yer uncle de Kernel yes'erday. An' de Kernel he said back to him dat she was mos' used up 'nuff to be builded over new foh to be a man-ob-wah."

"Did father say so too?"

"Wot did he say? No, sah; he tole de Kernel back not to 'buse a pore ole wreck dat away. She was good for sumfin yit. Come, chil'en, git outen de boat."

Kisedek Pound's deeply wrinkled and very black face, with its wide fringe of white whiskers, had been all one friendly grin as he came down to the water's edge. He had even grumbled to himself: "I'd take de hull lot ob 'em wid me ef dey wasn't done gone shuah to skeer de fish."

"Put me up first," shouted Clark Ridgeway, as the boat's nose struck the wreck. "Now, Barbie, give me your hand. Boost her, Willy."

Jim Ridgeway came near getting a ducking, clambering up without any help, and little Ben Kyle, just as Kisedek Pound hoisted him within Clark Ridgeway's reach, gave a great squall.

"She's all alone! I'm afraid! Nobody's in her!"

"Ob course dah isn't," said Kisedek. "Not eben de black-fish. Dey was pumpin' ob her all day yes'erday."

Ben's fright was over in an instant, for the older children were already taking possession of the wreck, and were exploring it in all directions.

It was great fun, only there was very little to be discovered by the "boarders."

"She isn't so bad a wreck," said Jim Ridgeway. "Look at her masts."

Barbie Kyle was looking down the hatchway, and she almost shuddered as she exclaimed,

"Jim, would you dare to go down stairs, and see what's in the cellar?"

"Cellar! Why, Barbie, that's the hold. Maybe there is something down there somewhere."

"Away down there? Do you s'pose the folks ever lived there and kept house?"

"Of course they did. They cooked, and they had beds there. That's where the cargo was, till she got wrecked, and they ran her on the bar. Then it was full of water."

"There's water there now."

"Not much. Didn't you hear old Kisedek? He used to come and catch fish--"

"Come on, boys," shouted Clark Ridgeway, just then; "we can make this thing go round."

"That's the capstan," said his brother. "It lifted the anchor."

"Guess I know that. Only there isn't any anchor to lift."

Barbie Kyle herself seized one of the capstan bars, while little Ben tugged away at the capstan itself, shouting, merrily,

"Wind her up! wind her up!"

Old Kisedek Pound had rowed away as soon as he delivered his passengers, and he had gone nearly half a mile before he suddenly poised his oars, and exclaimed, very dubiously:

The tide had turned before the "little boarders" took possession of their prize, and now it was rippling strongly around her stern. The water on the bar was fast growing deeper, but none of it poured into the wreck, as it would have done before the holes in her side were mended.

Share on: WhatsApp @Hash Facebook Tweet