Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1893-03-24

voyage, Win tne cnantlng song OF tne
sailors as an accompaniment to the
clanking capstan. Enormsus iron
steamers, handsome brigs and three
masted schooners as large as the ships
themselves, passed and repassed, in be-
wildering succession.
Il think it's real nice to be sailor, -"
said Tad, enthusiastically, to Polly,
who was walking the deck, followed
by the small dog. Polly had named
him sBounce," and as he trotted sober
ly at her heels, on a pair of very short,
unsteady legs, he resembled nothing so
much rs an animated bunch of black
zephyr worsted.
"Oh, 1 knew you'd like it." was Pol
R's confident answer, ''and you'll like
ID all the better before the voyage Is
over"
lad was quite delighted at this pros
pect. But it occurred to him all at
once-and for the first time-that If
the voyage sh~ Id be very long one
he was rather poorly off for clothes.
Though perhaps Che thoughD Captain
Flagg could stop somewhere on the
way and buy him a few. out of the
wages which he was beginning to earn.
"Where is the vessel bound to,
miss?" asked Tad, respectfully. being
much impressed by the matter-of-fact
manner in which Polly spoke of the
voyage that lay before them.
"Why, away down East, to Bixport,
where father and L livc," returned
Polly, with comprehensive wave OF
her hand, which took in about half OF
the northern and eastern horizon.
"Bixport's real nice place, though II
isn't quite as big as Boston," she con.
tinued, explanatorily, and Tad caught
himself wondering if it was anywhere
near the Arctic regions of which we
had read, and if so what he should do
for an overcoat-for even then he was
beginning to feel chilly in his thread
bare suit. So the afternoon wore slow
ly away. Captain Flagg smoked and
steered, Polly played with the dog,
George Washington got supper, Eph
Whitfield up another shingle (Which
he pulled out from under the hatch
covering), and Tad meditated.
"Strike eight bells, Mr.. Small, and
call the watchri shouted Captain Flagg,
in stentorian voice, as glance at his
old-fashioned time-piece showed that it
was four o'clock p. m.
The chief mate shut up his jack-knife
reluctantly, rose to his feet, and, dust
ing off his tarry trousers with great de-
liberation, struck eight resoundina
strokes on the small bell for ard. Then,
lounging aft, he relieved the wheel,
and, seated on the rudder-head, steered
with one hand, while the other absently
fingered his jack-knife in his pocket
Captain Flagg now t>ok a seat on the
edge Of the little trunk cabin, yawned,
squinted his eve toward the western
horizon, where the sun was going down
in a great sea of purple and gold, and
patronizingly beckoned to Tad, who,
with some difidence, sat down beside
the ancient mariner.
Like your shipmates in the port
watch pretty well, my ladP" inquired
the Captain, kindly.
With a shy glance at unconscious
Polly, who was tantalizing Bounce by
swinging the big sun-bonnet by the
strings, before his nose, Tad said he
liked 'em ever so much.
That's proper" approvingly re-
sponded Captain Flagg, land mind that
you learn all you can from 'em. Eph
is a tremen'us smart sailor" continued
the Captain, lowering his voiae as he
regarded the youth in question, land
what he don't know about ships du-
ties and reggerlations amt worth
knowin'"
As Tad's eyes involuntarily followed
the direction of the Captains gaze, he
secretly wondered whether it was ec-
centricity that prompted Mr.. Small to
wear faded calico shirt, q battered
slouch hat, tattered vest and dingy
canvas trousers. For Tad's idea of a
sailors rig was derived from the one
or two highly-wrought nautical tales
which he had read in his life. He
fancied that in all climates and wealth
ers, Jack Tar wore a little glazed black
hat with long ribbons, and blue jack
et resplendent with brass buttons, blue
trousers, silk stockings and low-quar-
tered shoes.
but he's the-the greatest chap to
whittle ever see in my life," pursued
Captain Flagg, meditatively-"t the rery
greatest"
Polly, who overheard the remark,
laughed gayly in the depths of her sun
bonnet.
"He's got half bunch of loose shin
lies in the bottom of his bunk, that he
aved from our last deck-load, and
axes out fresh one every time he goes
where George Washing
on gets his kindlings for the galley
tove FROM" she remarked demurely.
The most I'm afeared of, observed
Ter father, in a confidential whisper,
3 that his usin' of jack-kuife so much
night get the vessel into some sech a
Grape as the OF British East Indy ship
Win sor Castle got into once whilst
vas sailor"
.