The Idaho world. [volume] (Idaho City, Idaho Territory) 1864-1918, 1872-10-17
IDAHO WORLD.
THE skIPPER's YARN.

THE SHIPPERS YARN.
IA correspondent Of the Philadelphia
Press, who has been rambling about
"down East" pickedup the following
rather good story at one Of his. stop
ping places:
Let me wind up my story with one
Of the stories that Uncle George one
of our characters, here. whose official
title is Cap'n Davis, tells on very slight
provocation. Imagine US down on
Lanes wharf, lying on the grass with
our pipes in our mouths, Uncle George
seated il our midst on bit of drift
wood-the figure-hcad of a skinner"
whose bones are bleaching on some
rocky point or in some sandy cove along
the coast-the tide coming in and lap
ping softly at the battered, messy stones
of the old pier, seemingly sympathizing
with its forlorn and deserted condition,
the sun shining down brightly, and
with no sound to interrupt save an oc-
casional "Gewhilikins!" from a small
boy who is fishing off the wharf for
cunners as he Losses or lands remark
ably fine specimen of that admirable
fish. Imagine us thus comfortably dis
posed; imagine yourself, ifyou will, one
of our group, and listening with us to
UNCLE GEORGES YARN.
Twas cap'n OF the skinner Abby Bro,ca
in them days, boys, and as l was just
n tritle proud of myself, for rayther few
young. men of twenty-three years old
gets chance to a vessel of their own
at that time of their liie. Besides bein'
cap'n, l was very good-lookin' young
feller-what are you all GRIMM like
so many sculpins about? d. you think
cause man gets gray and battered
by fifty years. seafarin' that he mayn't
not have been good-lookin' in his young
err days? Well, never mind, if no of
Tense was meant none is took | say
l was good-lookin' and / meant it, and
what with that, and bein' cap'n of the
Abby Bro,cn, and havin' beside some
dollars stuck away in bank. might a
had pretty much my chico of any girl
atween Squam and Gloucester. But as
is the way with most young fellers. Ia
got one of my eyes gouged out with
a particular she--Deacon Hadwin's
daughter Mary, it was, and | iist tliu't
all creation was tied round by her apron
strings, and outside of 'em there wasn't
q woman that was worth spilled
mack'rel l seed a good deal of Mary,
one way and another, for the Abby
BrUarn run out of Gloucester, where
she was owned, and Deacon Hadwin
lived jist t'other side the halfway cross
roads atween Gloucester and Squam.
So all the time was into port there
was seldom day didn't feel called
on to come over home here to see my
old people-at least, so give out.
But more'n two days in the seven IL
get beyond them tarnal cross reads.
She was mighty trim little craft, was
Mary Full in the bows, we'll balanced
aft, and all her ribbons and SIGH hauled
taut, and called aboard neat and reg'lar;
face always looked as if it had jist had
a fresh coat of red paint, eyes blue and
sparklin', teeth white, and generally
shown by reason Of her smiin'-in
short, boys, she was of the kind that
Is only found one at a time; and bein'
OF that sort, you may bet your best
boots there was no end Of fellcrs hank
Grin round her, promiscuous-like, all
the time weren't much afraid of any
Of the other chaps gettin' Mary, less it
was Ahab Corbin. He was a likely
sort Of young man, whose father had
jist set him up in the shp-chandlcrin'
line at Gloucester; and them was the
days when shipchandlerin' paid, for ten
vessels come into port then for one that
comes in now. Ahab had the weather
gauge on me in pint Of height; but
then was stoutcr built than him, and
had powerful long arms, SO if it eyer
kun to fight atween us. | bad calcu-
lated or, bein' able, tn make him smell