Democrat and sentinel. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1853-1866, 1864-05-18


and there he managed to tell his story
Shortly after 1 put him in the hold he
crawied forward and when he became
used to the dim glimmer that came throuob
the dead lights, he looked about for q snno
place In which to lie, for his limbs were
very sore. He went to sleep, and when
he awoke he heard faint sound like WA
ter streaming through small hole. He
went to the open place III the cargo and
looked down and was sure that he saw a
small jet of water springing up through
the ships bottom. He leaped down, and
! IN few moments found that the timbers
had given wholly away, and that the
stream was increasing in size. He placed
his hand upon the plank, and found il
broken, and discovered that the pressure
of the water without was forcing it in
ward. He had sense to see that if i,
gained an inch more it must all 90, and
the ship be lost, and perhaps all hands
perish. And he saw, too, that if he could
keep the broken plank in its place he
might stop the incoming flood So he sal
himself upon it, and braced his feet against
the cask, and then called for help But
he was too far away-so low down, with
such mass of cargo about him, that his
voice scarcely reached other ears than his
own. Some of the men heard him, bu,
thought he was talking to himself, and
there he sat, with his feet braced, for four
and twenty dreary hours, with the water
spirting all over and drenching him to the
very skin He had several times thought
of going to the hatchway and calling for
help, but he knew that the broken plank
would be forced in if he left it, for he
could feel it heave beneath him. His
limbs were racked with pain, but be
would not give il up. | asked him if he
should not have given up if l had not
come to him AS did. He answered that
he could not have done it while he had
life in him. He said he thought not OF
himself; he was ready to die; but he
would save the rest if he could-and he
had saved US, surely saved us.
The boy lay sick almost unto death
but l nursed him with my own hands
nursed him all through his delirium and
when his reason returned, and he could
sit up and talk, | bowed myself before
him and humbly asked his pardon for all
the wrong | had done him. He threw
his arms around my neck, and told me ii
I would be good to him, he would never
give me cause of off3nse; and added, as he
sat up again, Il am not a coward, could
not be dog"
| never forgot those words; and from
that hour l have never struck blow on
board my ship. i make my men feel
that they are men, that / so regard them,
and that l wish to make them comfortable
and happy rs possible; and L have not
failed TO gain their respect and confidence.
/ give no undue license: but make my
crews feel that they have a friend and su-
perior in the same person. For nine years
have sailed in three different ships, with
the same crew. A man could not be
hired to leave me save for an officer :
berth. And Jack Withers remained with
me thirteen years. He was my cabin
boy !; one of my fore-mast hands, my sec
ond mate, and the last time he sailed with
me, he refused the command of a new
bark, because he would not be separated
from me- But he is a captain now, and
one of the best the country ever afforded.
Such, gentlemen, is my experience in gov
ernment and discipline on shipboard.
A farmer in Canada recently lost his
wife, and on the day appointed for the
funeral, when the guests were assembled,
he persisted in postponing the funeral.-
Several sympa:hetics, who endeavored to
reconcile him to final leave of the loved