Waterbury evening Democrat., 1892-02-24
JACKSON"
The Story of a Sea Dog.
BY W. cnHRK RUSSELL.
Copyright. 1890, BY the Authors Alliance

| S@~~ ~ANAN@-NNS
Robert Ridley is a retired mariner.
He never rose to higher grade than
that of second mate, in which capacity
indeed he acted without a certificate,
having for the most part of his life
sailed in a species of ship upon whose
commanders and officers the state makes
few or no demands in an educational
sense.
| Robert Ridley, having on several oc-
casions served as a second mate, and
once as On only mate, returned to his
earlier condition of able seaman, and
whilst still acting in that capacity quit
ted the ocean forever and settled down
as a gentleman ashore in a comfortable
little cottage by the seaside. This
achievement of independence the popu-
lation of great maritime country will
not for an instant suppose was the re-
suit of his commercial prosperity as a
foremost hand. After twerty years of
working like a dog at sea, all that
Robert Ridley had to show in the shape
of effects was comprised in a small
sea-chest half full of clothes and a suit
of oilskins, with perhaps matter of
| eight pounds lodged in post Office saw
ings bank.
Mol My friend Bob Ridley gained an
independence not through old ocean
that most beggarly of callings-but
| through an uncle who had been an
italian warehouseman, and who left
the worthy fellow, to his establishment
| and Joy, the handsome sum Ito an able
seaman) of six thousand pounds.
| was recently in the town where Bob
Ridley lives, and spent an hour with
him. We smoked our pipes together,
drank to each other in a glass of Hol-
land, and talked of the sea. He carried
me into his little garden, and with much
pride pointed to the various flowers and
! 20 what he called his kitchen garden, a
considerable bed of soil full of carrots,
cabbage and the like. At the extrem-
ity of his half-acre Of land stood a sum-
mer arbor, the fruits of his own skill
for he had been ships carpenter in his
day, and few men were smarter with
the chisel and the saw than he. On
entering this building l observed a little
wooden obelisk about three feet in
height erected in the center of it. On
the apex rested piece of carving in
wood, of which / could make neither
head nor tail. Upon the body of the
obelisk were carved the words:
In Memory of JACKSON
Sunday morn, MDCCCLXXV."
At the hinder base of this queer little
structure was the model of wreck.
Many queer devices representing mer-
maids, the sun, anchors, hearts, and so
forth, were artfully chiseled on the
sides.
Pray what have you here, Ridley9'
said l.
"A memorial" he answered.
"Ay, that's clear enough. But what
sailor friend of yours lies buried here?"
No sailor at all" he answered laugh
ing. jackson was dog, and he, poor
beast, doesn't lie here, either. l wish
he did. 1t would sometimes give my
mind sort of satisfaction to feel that
his remains lay snug under this here
mark"
And what" cried 1, peering at the
little bit of carving on top of the obelislS,
lis this?"
"It is the portrait of the half of YES
sells caboose, sir-of a vessel that was
lost on Sunday morning"
BY the word 'caboose" he signified
galley, or the kitchen of little ship.
could now make out that it was the
representation of the roof and portion
of the sides of caboose, as he called it,
with hole atop for the reception of a
chimney.
81 see there is yarn here" said l.
Not much of a yarn" he answered;
Just the tale of poor Least of dog
that in course of time got to love as
truly as if he'd been a Christian man
and brother. That's where l fell in
with him." said he, pointing to the