The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1866-02-28


day, the thirtieth out, we expect.
Doctor says another day would have
killed them both. The man, Sands.
died the twenty-fourth day out, at
night.
" There, that's the log said Ben,
and now can tell you the rest. for
L was well on the fourth day; though
not strong--coc!a walk about the
! deck. The doctor gave me some
ointment for my throat and waist,
and I was all right in about a week.
'Ihe boy, too, got better and left
| OF muttering. Doctor read to him,
made him work about the ship, and
tried all sorts of ways to make him
think of something else
''In another fortnight I said good
, bye to the Esmeralda's people and
! started for the North in q steamer,
taking the boy with me.
''We saw the owner, and found
that the captain of the Belle of Aber-
deem had written home, and that
they'd given us up for lost. Sleepy
Sam reached the ship the day after
he left us.
The owner was SO pleased with
me that he gave me Ave hundred
pounds for taking care of his son.
! said Ia only done my duty; but
he would have me take it, so at last
did.
And, says he, Ben, my boy
(they always call us boys,) Ben, my
boy says he, If ever you want a
friend, you know where to come for
one. I should have been broken
hearted man, Ben, if it hadn't been
TOR you taking care of him. God
bless you, Ben. But you must come
and see his mother before you go.
e.sWell, J went up to the house,
and saw Inc, handsomely dressed
old lady. You see they weren t likely
to have any more, and that made
them all the fonder of the boy.
"'Mr. Stevens, my DEAR says he
to her.
"You'd hardly think it, but it's as
true as I stand here-the old lady
went down on her knees to me and
kissed my hand, and cried fit to
break her heart.
God bless you, Mr.. Stevens,
says she, God bless you, for your
kindness to my poor boy. I'll never
forget you. You must take this to
think of me sometimes. T shall
always pray for you
'It was a ring. That's it." said
Ben, showing me solid looking gold
ring, with large diamond in it.
s'Well, I took it, for I was getting
quite uncomfortable at her taking on
so; but, Lord bless you, it seemed to
do her good to have her cry out; and
the owner, he looked on and wiped
his eyes now and then. Last of oil,
1 was obliged to say I'd only done
my duty by the boy. But she
wouldn't listen, but kept saying, God
bless YOU and crying over my hand,
and len she seemed to go off faint,
so I got away then. OF course, as
soon as could, I came home.
II found mother all right. 'Hows
Esther?' says I, as jauntily as if I
didn't care q button about her.
Mother looked pretty hard at me.
=" oh, she's well enough
q sFitzjames come back?' says I.
=" No, he'll never come back-a
villain!' says mother. She was al
Ways down on him when she had a
chance. OF course knew he'd never
come back better than she did.
81 went to see Esther next day.
She shook hands and kissed me, said
L looked i'll, then says, Have you
got anything to tell me-? I don't
know how it was she asked this-sort
of what you call presentiment, or
instinct, same as dogs have. Lord.
sir, a woman Or dog can always tell
what you mean before you speak-in
things about the feelings. Some
children, too, have this kind of thing
very strong. Perhaps, after all, [
looked as if knew something.
"'Have you seen him?'-shim,'
you know, as if there wasn't other
hims-and asking me, too, just as if
I cared as much about it as she did;
but Lord, sir, they don't think any
body's a right to think of anybody
but their him
Eyes. says I, I've seen him,
Esther
Where is he? Take me to himr
She looked at me minute. No,
Ben, says she, 'he's dead! I know
he is! [ see he is! Oh, my God!
My own Fitzjames is dead.' And she
gripped my hand so hard, and sank
back in the chair and shut her eyes.
CATER a little she says, Ben, tell
me all about it. Poor fellow! dea1p
81 told her as much as I co1ld
about it; and then I told her about