The Worthington advance., 1880-09-16
Deal Genlly With the lsoys.

Deal Gently With the lsoys.
II don't believe in being too strict
with boys" said Col. Morton. "Tve
seen good deal of the world in general.
and have learned some lessons in regard
to the treatment Of boys that will
never forget. I remember particularly
little incident that occurred some years
ago on board vessel, then lying in New
York harbor, in which I had taken pass
age for Liverpool. While stood on
the deck idly watching the crowds on
shore and on the decks of the different
vessels moored around us, ships yawl
belonging to q craft that lay some dis
tance below us was rowed alongside, and
an old gentlemen, one OF the sternest-
looking men ever saw, came aboard
and inquired for the Captain. He was
shown below, and after an absence of
half an hour reappeared on deck accom-
panied by the latter. As the two passed
o group Of four sailors the men touched
their caps politely, and one of them, the
youngest, and about the roughest-look-
ing Of the four, turned and looked after
them with a startled, eager gaze, and an
expression Of mingled bitterness, aston
ishment and vague regret on his bronzed
and weather. beaten face. The old gen.
tleman re-entered the yawl and was
rowed rapidly back to the ship, the sails
of which were already being hoisted :;
and, when the boats had reached her
side, its occupants mounted hastily on
deck, and the great white-winged bird
of the ocean was moving slowly down
the bay, the sailor, who was still looking
after it with the singular expression on
his face, turned to his companions and
said coolly and quietly: Mates, would
You like to know who that old gentleman
is?' Why, yes, if he's anything out of
the common run, responded one of the
men. Who is he, Charlie?' 'Well,
mates, don't know that he has any
thing in particular to distinguish him
from other men, only he Well, mates,
that old gentleman is my father! At this
astounding revelation faced about and
regarded him in silent, incredulous
smazement, the men stared at him for q
full minute In mute, open.mouthed as
tonishment, and then your father
calculated they in chorus, your father!
Lord bless us, Charlie But you don't
expect us to believe that?' The sailor
laughed careless, half-mocking laugh.
1T is rather tough statement coming
from such q poor devil as T. said he,
but I'd swear to its truth if I was 90
ing to swing the next minute on the
yardarm. I haven't seen him since was
IA years old, and was ~ yesterday
Lord bless US, repeated the men,
but he didn't know you, Charlie?'
"'Know me! God, no! Thirteen
years have changed me o cussed sight
more than they have him. But he's my
father, for all that, and I'm precious
glad he didn't know me as l did him the in
slant I sighted his face,' was the an
swer.
"Tell us ::.e story, Charlie tell US
the story was the eager request.
Not while that craft is in sight,
mates,' and his eyes looked after the
slowly .receding ship, with a half-long-
ing, half-weary expressionin in their brown
depths; wait till tonight, and I'll tell
you the story. Aye, aye, sir I and he
turned away in answer to q call from the
Captain.
His fatheri Could it be p thought,
looking after the tall, broad-shouldered,
roughly-clad seaman. This rough,
profane, reckless-looking sailor the son
Of that dignifed, refined, and evidently
wealthy old gentleman It was hard
to believe, but I determined to hear his
story, and I did. Coming upon him
some hours afterward, I asked permis-
sion to do so.
Certainly, sir, he answered, touch
ing his cap with ocean-bred politeness,
If you think it worth your WHILE
"And that night, standing on the moon
lit deck, with crew and passengers
around him, Charlie told his story.
"'I didn't expect to have SO many
hearers he began, coiling his arms
or-fashion on his broad breast; and,
I dare say that when you've heard my
yarn, you'll ill think that the time you
spent in listening to it was wasted, but,
such as it il, you are welcome to hear it.
As I've said, the old gentleman who was
on board this morning is my father. He
is, or was when he called me his son, a
wealthy merchant of New Orleans. I
was his only child, and, if he'd been q
different father. I might now be dif-
ferent man, better man, may be, and
not the rowing, homeless castaway that I
am. I had little affection for him, and
he seemed to have a. little for me. May
be I was wrong in thinking 50, but, If
he felt it, he never allowed it to me. I
never thought Of eonading anything to
him, for he was too stern, too reserved,
and, instead Of trusting him, feared
him. He was very strict with me, al
lowed me no freedom Of speech or action
in his presence, and I was never 80 ILL.,
at-ease a. when with him. Perhaps he
thought such treatment was best and
for my good, - ! was inclined to be
vild and he knew IL Int I aometimea