Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-04-05
WATERBURY DEMOCRAT THURSDAY, APRIL 1888

nroT,ned hands and diminished face ,ood-, him as distressful and melancholy a n;ct,,,e of Time as ever mortal man viewed Ho broke off in his rambling to ask for n,o,o brandy. taking it for granted that I was still in the cook room, for never spoke. and filled a can for him, and as before held ;t +o his month. which he opened wide-a niece of behavior which went to show that some of his wits still hung loose upon him. This was a strong dose, and, cooperating with tba ohbe,. soon seized hold on his head. and nres. ently he began to laugh to himself and talk. and even broke into slave or two-some French song, which he delivered in a voice like the squeaking of rat, alternating with the growing of terrier.
 guess his stumbling upon this old French catch (which I took it to be from seeing him feeblv flourish one of his sticks, as if inyitinp a chorus) put him upon speaking his own tongue altogether; for though he continued to chatter with all the volubility his breath would permit during the whole time I sat eating, not one word of English did he speak and not one word, therefore, did I under stand Seeing how it must be with him pres ently, brought his mattress and rugs from his cabin, and had scarce laid them down when he let fall one of his sticks and dropped over. I grasped him, and, partly lifting, partly hauling, got him on his back and covered him up. In few minutes he was asleep.
 I trust shall not be deemed inhuman if I confess that heartily wished his end would come. If he went on living he promised to be an intolerable burden to me- being quite helpless Besides, he was much too old for this world, in which man who reaches the age of 90 is pointed to as sort of wonder.
 Nothing worth recording happened that day. The wind slackened, and the ice tray eled so slow that at sundown could not dis cover that we had made more than a quarter of mile of progress to the north since noon, though we had settled by half as much again that distance westward.
 I had not closed my eyes on the previous night, and was tired out when the evening arrived; and as no good could come of my keeping 6 watch, for the simple reason that it was not in my power to avert anything that might happen, tumbled some further covering over the Frenchnan, who had l0i1. on the deck sall the afternoon, sometimes dozing, sometimes waking and talking to himself, and appearing on the whole very easy and comfortable, and went to my cabin.
 slept sound the whole night through, and on waking went on deck before going to the cook house and lighting the furnace (as was my custom) so impatient was to observe our state, and to hear such news as the ocean had for me. It was after S-a very curious day, somewhat darksome, and dead calm, with a large, long swell out of the southeast. The sky was full of clouds, with stopping appearance in the hang of them that minded you of the belly of hammock; they were of sallow brown, very uncom- mon; some of them round about slipped the and fhni1. cl,o <1,1 those parts of the cincture which they over- hung, broke the continuity of the horizon as though there were valleys in the ocean there. A good part of our bed of ice was gone-at least fourth of it; but the schooner still lay as strongly fixed as before 1 had come to the deck half expecting to find her af1oat from the regular manner of her heaving, and was bitterly disappointed to discover her rooted as strongly as ever in the ice, though the irritation softened when I noticed how the bed had diminished. The mass, with the ship upon it, rose and sank, with the slug gish, squatting motion of a water logged ves- Sel. It was an odd sensation to my legs after their long rest from such exercise. The heav- ing satisfied me that the base of the bed did not go deep, but at the same time it was all too solid for me, could not doubt; for, had the sheet been as thin as I had hoped it, it must have given under the weight of the schooner and released her.
 went below and got about lighting the fire. The Frenchman lay very quiet, under as many clothes as would fill half dozen of sacks. It was bitterly cold-sharper in the cook house than had ever remembered it; and I could not conceive why this should be- until I recollected that had forgotten to close the companion hatch before going to bed. prepared some broth for my com panion, and dressed some ham for myself, and ate my breakfast, supposing he would meanwhile awake. But after sitting some time and observing that he did not stir, a suspicion fashed into my mind; I kneeled down, and, clearing his face, listened. He did not breathe. I brought the lantern to him; but his countenance had been so changed by his unparalleled emergence from state of middle life into extreme old age-he was so puckered, hollowed, gaunt, his features so distorted by the great weight of his years that was not to know him dead by merely viewing him. I threw the clothes off him, listened at his mouth breathlessly, felt his hands, which were ice cold. Dead indeed thought I. Great Father, 'tis thy will! And rose very slowly and stood surveying the silent figure with an emotion that owed it's inspiration partly to the several miracles of vitality had beheld in him during our asso- citation, and to 8 bitter feeling of loneliness | that swelled up in me.