San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1889-09-21
THE OLD PURSER'S YARN.
THE COOK FROM TERRY HUT" WHO
WOULDN'T MAKE PIES, BUT DID.

Very Angry W nen lie missed tne
kin Pies-AH Ended Happily.
Of all the rum shippers ever came across
IN all my sea days-and that's a rare compli-
ment too, do you mind-Capn Selvidge just
was. He Just was Caleb l, he used to sign
hlmself, but the boys weren't going to stand
that, you know; some of 'em pried out from
down east somewhere that his father'd had
him christened Ca Ira, or Cay Try, as he pro-
nounced it, after some song in that rubbishy
old French revolution. you know; don't,
and don't want you to tell me. So it was no
good his writing himself Caleb |; Cay Try it
was, and Capn Try his sea name always,
among the boys A good one, too, Capn Try
was, as our men mostly were, but the queer
est Dick that ever crossed quarter deck. And
you take it from me, my son, that the quar-
ter deck is just the home and habitation of
the queer Dick at his queerest. Oh, could
90 on by the hour about the old man, but
hold on till tell you how he tanned our big
prize fighting pastry cook from Terre Haute,
Ind.-don't laugh, sir; pledge you my word
he came from there, and salt water 81 drop
at wholesale.
LITTLE, BUT LION HEARTED.
Cap'n Try wasn't any bigger than cock
sparrow as the Doughboy of the Waybosh
used to howl out whenever he was drunk.
But, Cristobal Colonl If ever you saw a
cock sparrow with the soul of lion tucked
inside and a sea lion at that, do you mind,
old Cav Try was that very bird. Somehow
Mr.. Terry Hut took regular scunner against
the little capn. Well, if the devil sends
cooks, whoever sends sea cooks, | don't know,
unless it's the devils sister, and as for ships
pastry cooks, there's nothing up to them but
the DEVILS mother-in-law; and Terry Hut he
just laid over anything you ever saw as far
forth as pure pie baking cussedness went.
Cap'n Try bad the queerest internal ar
rangement to be called an appetite you ever
came across in your born days. Steward"
he used to say, passing his hand over his eyes,
so fashion, and then back over the flaming
bird O. paradise lock he wore for a sort of
finish like, Steward, l don't feel very well
today Think I'd better diet bit. just let
| me taste some mock turtle soup, bit Of nice
delicate corned beef with plenty of cabbage,
a sardine salad, fairish help Of fig pudding,
n cup of japanese tea made good and strong,
50 you can see the thing, and-and bottle
Of cider. Oh, and, steward, here, set nice
| fresh pumpkin pie in the chart room to-
night, will you, just in case | should feel
hungry toward morning"
Well, one of those times when it was all
fog, fog, fog clear up from Cape San Lucas,
| the old man-never left the deck in thick
weather, sir-had one of these delicate pump
| kin pie appetites come over him, and what
notion should the devils own mOther-in.
| laws private secretary from Terry Hut take
into that nine cOrnered head of his but that
if that the old man got 50 much as a smell Of
the crust of the first solitary pumpkin pie
he'd have to get up earlier and show himself
smarter than the Doughboy of the Waybosh,
Well, maybe he didn't
But hold on. First night, off Cape San
Lazaro: "Cap'n's compliments, where is his
pumpkin pieF' Very sorry; order never
came to me-" Second night, passing Cerros
Island, cap'n's compliments again, again no
pie, profuse regrets, passengers ate 'em all
up. Third and last night of this attractive
comedy, east end of Anacapa abeam, capn's
compliments once more, pastry cook sorrier
than ever, pumpkin all gone, everything Of
the pie kind gone but the half of a stale CO.
coanut How would that do2
SEVENTEEN HUNDRED PIES.
It's my belief, sir, that that last cocoanus
broke the camel's back. Anyhow, now it
was call the steward Turned in, sir Cap'n's
compliments, please to turn out again.
Steward, my compliments to that pastry
cook OF yours and tell him to turn out and
go to making pies and keep on making pies
till tell him to stop" Four BELLS a. M
sleepy steward mounts bridge in tousled hair
and stocking feet. Pantry quite cleared,
sir; may he knock off nowT' when order
you: turn out the storekeeper and break out
more pie fruits from the store room" Seven
bells-3:30 a. m.-'Pie fruits all gone, sir"
Nothing left" Nothing, only mince"
$50 ahead on the mince, then" Three bells
$50 a. m, and fog lifting a little-"M ince all
gone now; what next?" go ahead on the
empty crusts till | tell him to STOP" Six
bells a. m, sun coming up and captain
coming down-''Very sorry sir, pastry room
all chock ablock with pies, sir, and over
flowed into the galley and pantry to that ex-
tent that it's all the cooks and walters can do
not to step on 'em."
Every good; then fetch the pastry cook
to me-"
Pastry cook alone with capn in chart ROOM
And now, Mr.. Pastry-cook, what in your
opinion is the probability Of the captain of
this ship being able to have a slice of pie
when he orders it?"
Well, sir, it was just pitiful to see that poor
pastry cooks face break all up like January
thaw and two big lines of tears organize
themselves on his pasty cheeks. He just
heaved one great sob and made out to say:
"Oh, cap'n, my pore sperrit is just broke all
to nothin'. Have mercy on me this time, sir,
and won't never do so no more, not neverw
I'll hush if Capt Try didn't have to blow
his nose with that red bandanna when he
told me the story. And wild horses wouldn't
drag those two men apart after that And