The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1882-07-21
The Boy Navigator.
CHAPTER I.

And, with n weIl-directed blow shot
straight from the shoulder, the boy laid
his cowardly insulter in the dust and old
paper wads at his feet. Then, turning on
his heel, he left the room.
Mr.. Thumper was principal of the North
district grammar-school. A man of hercu-
lean frame, measuring six feet thirteen
inches i'll height, and weighing 1913 pounds,
he relied upon his immense physical pow
ers to protect him in his tyranny.
Tom Blowgun was II proud-spir,ted boy
of IL years, small of his age aUG very
slender. But he had the soul of a lion.
He had endured the brutal oppression
of the despot until endurance ceased TO be
a virtue. On the day On which our story
opens, Mr.. Thumper went one step too far
in his pithess abuse Of power. lie asked
Tom how much two and two made.
Conquering his disgust for the man, in
his passion for mathematics, for he loved
Learning with all the devotion of scholar,
Tom lifted his frank, honest gaze TO the
teachers face:
Seven, sir" he said.
"Oh no, try again" said the tyrant, with
n false smile on LIS wicked face.
Eleven Tom replied, correcting him
self. II meant eleven in the first place.
he added, in n tone of proud defiance that
made the teacher turn pale.
"oh no. he said, with ashen lips, lit
makes only four"
And then the boy, his proud soul mount
ing TO his eyes, smote him to the earth,
and, striding across his PROSTATE form, left
the schoOl-room forever.
Tom was an orphan, dependent upon his
onl~ mother and father for support. When
they heard he had left school, his mother
trained him to her heart with one hand,
and wore out the dome of his pantaloous
with n No. 8 slipper with the other. Then
she released him from her fond embrace.
wait until your father comes home, y
she said.
The brave boy said he would be only
too glad TO do 80, but he hadn't time.
"What are you going TO do asked his
mother.
81 am going to build n ship" lie said.
His mother, who never fully appreciated
nor even comprehcndcd his genius and en-
ergy, said she didn't believe he could buiIi
a ship. Thenoble boy said, 81 forgive your
n went into the pantry for n case-knih.
He took three boards of the back fence,
and then went down the alley n short dis
lance and borrowed several pieces of fenc-
ing from o neighDoring undergrad. The
man who owned the undergrad was not
Mt home. Tom knew it. He was n SUPER
c%ilious, purse-prcud man of vulgar origin.
and the boys spirit would notstoop to Dor
row anything of him when he was in sight.
1t WIS all he could do to stoop TO his fenc-
ing. That nearly broke his back.
Returning home he planed the boards
smooth with his case-knile. He cut down
q locust tree that grew on the sidewalk,
and fashioned the keel from it. This he
laid with great care and precision. Then
he put in the rndder post and bolted it
fast. He was too poor to buy bolts, so he
made his own out of joints of lead pipe
kthat he had been collecting and saving up
for circus day. Then he rove in the main
halliards, Delaying them carefully at the
cornice with clcatS of tarpaulin.
He had no trouble until it came to slush-
ing the bobstay. When he attempted to
make it fast, it swung so far abuit the
pinnacle that il put out the dcad-eye and
dropped afoul of the peak.
What will you do now ?" asked his lit
tie sister Ann, who was sitting ncnr him,
eating n piece of pie.
Shut up your mouth, said the noble
boy, "or Ill slap your nasty snout."
SO saying, he took her pie away from
her and ate it up. Tom loved his little
sister dearly, but he could not endure TO
see her sowing the seeds of dyspepsia in
her system. He dreaded to think that by
early acquiring nd incurable disease of the
liver and digestive organs she might grow
up to be u reiormer.
He finally secured the bob-stay in its
place and the rest OF his task WAS compnr-
ntively easy. He had some difficulty In
setting the masts, because q stick of Nor
way pine, eighty feet long and ucarly three
feet in diameter Mt the butt, is no small
burden for a boy of II years to lift nlonc.
Blu Tom was not a boy to be duunted
by difficulties. He made his little sister
Ann carry the big end of the mast, and
soon had it in place. The ship was now
ready for the canvas. Tom procured this
at a neighboring grocery, promising TO pay
Tor II with the proceeds of his first cargo.
The grocer was II keen business man, and
he saw that Tom meant what he said. So
he let him have it, charging him, however,
nearly double h it was worth. The
boy said nothing aloud, but he thought
within himself, "All right, old Snndisugar,
its you turn now. You just wait till you
get your pay before you chucklc." Tom
cut out the sails aud his sister AmPsewed
them. a
Ann was only five years old, but she
sewed beautifully. The parents of these
children did not believe in bringing up
boys and girls in idleness.
When Toms father came homo that
evening he was surprised to see a beauti-
full three-mastcd schooner of $500 tons
burden, full rugged and ready for sea, fly
ing the American colors at the main peak,
standing in the back yard.
who built that shipY" he asked.
"1.did," said Tom.
That's q pretty good ship" said his
.ather, examining it critically.
Toms father was Secretary of tho Navy,
consequently this was the first ship he
had ever seen, and he was much interest
ed in il.
But doesn't the stern post bowse n little
too much Mt 2 he asked.
But when Tom told him that was the
ooWei rIt he was looking at, and not tho
5tem-p his father seemed glad.
Wen lie said, 81 had rather see YOU
building ships han wasting YOU time in
literature. But how will you get your
ship to sea?'
You see, the Blowguns lived in Central
Iowa, about 1900 miles from salt wRter,
and seventy miles from either of the two
prevailing streams of the Hawkeye State,
Skunk river and Sugar creek. As the
schooner drew about seventeen feet of
water, : appeared to be n task of grea:
difficulty to get her TO the sea.
But Tom was a boy full of expedients.
He went to the superintendent of the
Baptist Sunday school and persuaded him
to apporht u picnic for the following day.
Inc next morning, about 8 o'clock, ID be-
gan to rain, and it rained so lard that by
. O'Clock that evening Tom stood on the
deck of his schooner, riding at anchor in
the Gulf of Keokuk, while the setting
rays of the rising sun glittered brightly
on the name Of the schooner, painted in
large gold letters across the main truck,
The Lively Ann