The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1891-04-25
THE STORY OF A BAD BOY.
tBY T. b. ALDRICH.
CHAPTER III.
ON BOARD THE rYpHooN.

first few hours at sea ! was dread
fully unwell.
The name of our ship was the
"A No. l, fast-sailing packet Ty-
phoon." 1 learned afterwards that
she sailed fast only in the newspa-
per advertisements. My father
owned one quarter of the Typhoon,
and that is why we happened to
go in her. l tried to guess which
quarter Of the ship he owned, and
finally concluded it must be the
hind quarter,--the cabin, in which
we had the cosiest of state-rooms,
with one round window in the roof
and two shelves or boxes nailed up
against the wall to sleep in.
There was II good deal Of confu-
sion on deck while we were getting
under way. The captain shouted
orders (to which nobody seemed to
pay any attention) through bat
tered tin trumpet, and grew so red
in the face that he reminded me of
q scooped-out pumpkin with a
lighted candle inside. He swore
right and left at the sailors without
the slightest regard for their feel
ings. They didn't mind it a bit,
however, but went on singing
"Heave no!
With the rum below.
And hurrah for.the Spanish Main Op
/ will not be positive about "the
Spanish Main," but it was hurrah
for something o. I considered
them very jolly fellows, and so in
deed they were. One weather-beat-
.en tar in particular struck my fam
cy,-a thick-set, jovial man, about
fifty years of age, with twinkling
blue eyes and a fringe of gray
hair circling his head like a crown.
AS he took off his tarpaulin 1 OBJ
served that the top of his head
was quite smooth and fiat, as if
somebody sat down on him when
he was very young.
There was something noticeably
hearty in this mans bronzed face,
a heartiness that seemed to extend
to his loosely knotted neckerchief.
But what completely won my
good will was picture of enviable
loveliness painted on his left arm.
1T was the head of a woman with
the body Of fish. Her flowing
hair was of livid green, and she
held pink comb in one hand. /
never saw anything so beautiful.
i determined to know that man. 1
think ] would have given my brass
pistol to have had such a picture
painted on my arm.
While / stood admiring this
work Of art, fat, wheezy steam
tug, with the word AJAX in star
ing black letters on the paddle-box,
came putting up alongside the Ty-
phoon. 1t was ridiculo usly small
and cOnceited, compared with our
stately ship. speculated as to
what it was going to do. In o few
minutes we were lashed to the lit
tie monster, which gave a snort
and a shrek, and commenced
backing us out from the levee
Iwhar0 with the greatest ease.
once saw an ant running away
with piece of cheese eight or ten
times larger than itself. 1 could
not help thinking of it, when 1
found the chubby, smoky-nosed
tug-boat towing the Typhoon out
into the Mississippi River.
In the middle of the stream we
swung round, the current caught
us, and flew like a great winged
bird. Only it didn't seem as if we
were moving. The shore, with the
countless steamboats,, the tangled
rigging of the ships, and the long
lines of warehouses, appeared to be
gliding away from us.
1t was grand sport to stand on
the quarter deck and watch all
this. Before long there was moth
ing to be seen on either side hut
stretches of low swampy, land,
covered with stunted cypress-trees,
from which dropped delicate
streamers of Spanish moss,-a fine
place for alligators and congo
snakes. Here and there we pass
ed a yellow sand-bar, and here and
there a snag lifted its nose out of
the water like shark.
"This is your last chance to see
the city, Tom," said my father, as
we swept round q bend in the riv-
er.
Iturned and looked. New Or
leans was Q colorless mass of some
thing in the sunset, and the dome
of the st. Charles Hotel, upon
which the sun shimmered for a
moment, was no bigger than the
top Of Aunt Chloe's thimblp.
What do / remember next? the