The Evansville journal. [volume] (Evansville, Ind.) 1866-1870, 1868-01-29

ZrHR AnMIRAL's REFURN

1t seems only yesterday that | was
six years old, aud was standing on the
lawn ef-our house. fourteen miles
from Dorchester, holding my mother S
hand, and, with my brother Ned,
waiting for the arrival of my father,
the admiral, who had just landed
from a cruise after slavers on the
African coast.
/ 1t war. about the year 1888, and my
father had written to tel my mother
that he should post from Plymouth,
where his vessel lay. The bells were
clashingsout in the village steeple for
King Georges birthday, but |, some
how or other, associated all the re-
jcicings with-zthe anticipatiOns. of my
father sreturn. 1t was harvest time,
and thermen were shouting across a
distant upland as they brought the
last load home to the farm stackyard.
Those shouts, too, blended somehow
with the happy feeling Of expectancy.
Even the very sunset, that was Just
reddening the sky, seemed to me al
most as part of the ceremonial, and
only fitting compliment on so great
an occasion. aF
NY father had been three years
away, but an imperfect recollection of
anything but5his severe keen look,
his uniform, Ibis cooked hat, his satin
knee brooches, his white stockings,
and his gold buckled shoes. | re-
Jrembered, too, his grave paeings af-
ter dinner up and down the quarter
deck-as he called the space by the
front windows of our dining-rOom-
when the folding doors were thrown
open. L remembered how he used to
occasionally turn aside in the hall
and tapsthe big barometer, then shake
his head and resume his silent
pacings. [ remembered, also, his
havingaa mast erected in the Dutch
gardensson which on certain days, the
Union'Jack was hoisted with salvo
from "a. old ships cannon that was
kept inthe harness4room. My broth
er Ned, three years oldeFzthan myself.
had. when we wereSreading together,
and resolving on becoming future
Robinson Crusoes, taught me to asso-
! ciate my father with all the naval he
roes who ever fought against the enc
mics Of England, from Drake and
Frobisher down toB lake and old Ben
bow. Railways, know, pictured him
erect on his quarter deck, with his
hand on his sword, and @cannon-s hot
as large as Dutch cheese flying thick
around him. Perhaps L and Ned
partly derived this somewhats exag-
gerated ,impression6froms an old en-
craving of Benbow, which hung in
| the dining-room. Our notiona of an
| Africafrcruise VASE boarding Savers,
cuttingsdown savage looking men in
straw Hats, and with half a4dozen
pistols In their belts, ana splashing
grape Shot into scurrying fleets of
black mems manyspaddled canoes.
A small brown cloud of dust grew
nearer sand largeEa SuddenlA from
the brown cloud emerged a. large
yellow = travelling carriage. four
white sliorses, and two Positions
! in scarlet jackets. Ny another
gave assslight scream -ef delight
lit wa5s my father. The carriage
stopped tall, thin, grave man got
quietly out; another moment md my
mother@ was in his arms; then he
! turned$o us and kissed US composed
/ ". He was a reserved man. and made
/ no great display Of affection. His
Il luggage a large Telescopes gray
! and red parrot, some charts, two va
Uses and his sword. 81
Why, papa said Ned, Too king
| up at the, carriage, you've got Rob
inson Crusoe' S Friday with you. Look,
mammal look, Fred; it is; isu'tit?"
! Thcrerwas indeed a black Servant
In our uniform sitting grfnniug good
naturally on the dies ey, withsa. large
live tortoise under his arm.
Friday? No; that's Monday, "
said my father, smilingi that's his
name, for that is the day we picked
him up.s one hundred and twenty
miles from the Isle of France. There
was he and his brother; they "a drift
] ed In canoe three hundredvmiles,
/ and they were sinking when wefound
| them. Weren't you, Monday?s
es, we was, massa.
And. my dear" said my father to
my mother, I've taken him as my
footman. He's too useful fellow
for a ships cook. | senthis brother
in the Thunderer to the West Indies.
We found him very quarrelsome and
revengeful." RI
Monday ventured a remark, inten-
sifed byan oath:
Caesar, him bad temper. when
him blood up."
Monday said my father, no
more swearing, now you're onland.
! Remember, footmen neverswear.
( My mother looked rather alarmed
at the new domestic, and drew us
back from the tortoise, who had Just
put out his head, snail like, to recon
noitre hisinew quarters. G
Polly. my dear, said my father,
Monday saved my life in Old-Cala-
I bar 4 shark had all but snapned