The Princeton union., 1880-02-11
PRUDENCE GRAY.

PRUDENCE GRAY.
That's my name, for father said there
wasn't a better barge on the river than
the Prudence, and if I was called the
same he was sure there would never be a
better girl.
Poor father! He was always very fond
of me, and my earliest remembrances are
of sitting on the tiller and having ride,
when he stood there of an evening steer
ing tho barge, with the great cinnamon
red sail filled out by the wind, and the
water toaming and bubbling by us as we
ran up the river toward the big city,
where the ships lay close together in the
dock, and against the wharves, empty
ing their loads or waiting for Others be-
fore gong away across the SEAS
I used to think our barge, which was
small billy-boy, if you know what that
is-if you don't then must tell you that
it is barge built with rounded ends and
low bulwarks, meant for carrying loads
up rivers, but built also to be able to 60
out to sea little while, running along
the coast--I used to think our barge, I
say, very, very large ship, till I grew
old enough to compare it with those that
passed us going up and down the river,
and then it used to seem to me that it
would be wonderfully fine to 90 on board
one OF those great ships and 90 sailing
away-far away across the ocean, in
stead of just coasting along to Sheerness
and up the Medway, as we used to 90
year after year, loading deep down into
the water.
can't tell you how my child-life Slip
ped away, living with mother and father
on board that barge, little bit of cab
in with tiny stove; all that I know is
that I was happy, and that never hard
ly went ashore, and when I did I was
frightened and wanted to go back; and
at last seemed to have grown all at
once into great girl, and father and
were alone.
Yes, quite alone, for mother had lett
us very suddenly, and we had been
ashore at Sheerness, father and I, and
came back from the funeral and were
sitting on the cabin hatch, before
could believe it was anything but ter
rible dream, and that should not wake
and find that she was alive once more,
as blithe and cherry as ever, ready TO
take the tiller or a pull at rope, the
same as l did when father wanted any
help.
Father was changed man after that,
and as couple of years slipped by the
work on the barge tell more and more
into my hands, and used to smile to
myself as saw how big and strong they
had grown. For father grew quiet and
dull day by day, and used to have a
stone bottle filled, whenever he went
ashore, and then sit with it In the cabin
all alone till I called him to come and
help with the sail.
Not that wanted much help, for ours
was only small barge and once started,
enough; while when we nad to tack back
wards and forwards across the river
mouth, could always lock the tiller by
the rope that hung on to the Delaying
pin, and give it hitch on this side or
that side, till had taken pull at the
sheet and brought the barge round on the
other tack.
must have passed half my life in
those days, leaning back against that til
Ter, with its end carved to look like a
great acorn, and the name of the old
barge, Prudence, cut deep in the side.
There I'd stand looking out ahead as we
glided along over the smooth sea, pass
ing buoy here and light there, giving
other barges aud smacks wide berth,
and listening to the strange, squealing
noise OF the gulls as they wheeled and
hovered and swept by me, so closely
sometimes that could almest touch
them with my hand.
Our barge was we'll known all about
the mouth of the river and far up bevond
the bridge; and somehow, don't know
why it was, the men on the different
boats we passed had always kind word
or wave of the hand for us, If we were
. too far off tor the friendly shout to roach
u.s.. .n..s l. a..
Sometimes I'd run the barge pretty
near to the great ships and steamers in
ward or outward bound, SO as to look at
the ladies saw on board; not that I
cared to do so very often, because it SEEM
ed to make me sad, tor the faces I look
ed on seemed to be so different from niue
that felt as if I was another kind of be-
ing, and it used to set me wondering and
make me think; and at such times I've
leaned against the tiller, and dreamed in
waking fashion of how I would like to
read and write and work, as had seen
ladies sitting and reading and working,
on the decks of the big ships, under the
awning; and then I had to set my dreams
aside and have pull at the sheet or take
reef in the sail, because the wind
treshened, and my dreams all passed
away.
don't think poor father meant it un-
kindly, but he seemed to grow more and