St. Landry clarion. (Opelousas, La.) 1890-1921, 1893-01-21

rnen we urod the r1re out, locked the
door and set forth upon our walk.
The wind being in that cold quarter
the northwest, blew nearly in our faces
as we went. It was the month Of June,
the grass was all white with daisies and
the trees with blossom, but to judge by
our blue nails and aching wrists, the
time might have been winter and the
whiteness a December frost.
Uncle Ebenezer trudged in the ditch,
jogging from side to side like an old
plowman coming home from work. He
never said word the whole way, and /
was thrown for talk on the cabin boy.
He told me his name was Ransome, and
that he had followed the sea since he
was nine, but could not say how old hs
was, as he had lost his reckoning.
l asked him of the brig (Which he de-
clared was the finest ship that sailed
and of Captain Hoseason, in whose
praise he was equally loud. Heasy-oasy
flor so he still named the skipper) was a
man, by his account, that minded for
nothing either in heaven or earth, one
that, as people said, would ''crack on
all sail into the day of Judgment
rough, fierce, unscrupulous and brutal;
and all this my poor cabin boy had
taught himself to admire as something
seamanlike and manly. He would only
admit one flaw in his idol. "He amt
no seaman" he admitted. "That's Mr..
Shuan that navigates the brig. He's the
finest seaman in the trade, only for
drink; and tell you believe it. Why,
look 'ere," and turning down his stock
ing he showed me great, raw, red
wound that made my blood run cold.
"He done that-Mr. Shuan done it," he
said with an air of pride.
'sWhat!" cried, "do you take such
savage usage at his hands? Why, you
are no slave to be SO handled"
= t'No," said the poor mooncalf, chang,
ing his tune at once, "and SO he'll find!
See 'ere," and he showed me great
caseknife, which he told Inc was stolen
"Oh,' says he, '.let me see him try.
dare him to. I'll do for him! Oh, he
amt the first" And he confirmed ii
with poor, silly, ugly oath.
''Have you no friendsg' said I.
He said he had father in some Eng
lish seaport, | forget which. "He was
fine man, too, he said, 'fbut he's dead"
"In heavens name," cried I, sscan you
find no reputable life on shore?"
''Oh, nor says he, winking and look.
ing very sly; ''they would put me to a |
trade. / know a trick worth two of
that, dol"
I asked him what trade could be SO
dreadful as the one he followed, where
he ran the continual peril of his life, not
alone from wind and sea, but by the
horrid cruelty of those who were his
masters. He said it was very true, and |
5hen began to praise the life, and tell |
what a pleasure it was to get on shore
With money in his pocket and spend it |
ike a man, and buy apples and swag,
ger and surprise what he called stick
n the mud boys. "And then it's not al
IS bad as that" says he; there's worse
If than me: there's the twenty Founders.
)h, laws! you should see them taking
N. Why, I've seen man as old as you,
dessay"-(to him seemed old 6-"ah,
md he had a beard, too-well, and as
DON as we cleared out of the river and
le had the drug out of his head-mv!
low he cried and carried on! I made a
inc fool Of him, l tell you! And then
here's little uns, too. Oh, little by Inc!
tell you, keep them in order. When
We carry little uns, I have ropes end
f my own to wollop EN-" And so he
an on, until 1t came in on me that what
10 meant by twenty Founders were those
Unhappy criminals who were sent over
cas- to slavery in North America, or the
till more unhappy innocents who were
idnaped or trepanned (as the word
7ent) for private interests or vengeance.
just then we came to the top of the
i'll, and looked down on the ferry and
he hope, and at the end of the pier |
ould see the building which they call
he Hawes inn.
The town of Queensferry lies farther
rest, and the neighborhood of the inn
'oked pretty lonely at that time of day,
Or the boat had just gone north with
A skiff, however, lay be-
de the pier with some seamen sleeping
n the thwarts; this, as Ransome told
le, was the briggs boat waiting for the
aptain; and about half a mile off, and
II alone in the anchorage, he showed
le the Covenant herself. After all l
ad listened to upon the way / looked at
nat ship with an extreme adherence,
nd from the bottom of my heart !
tiled all poor souls that were con-
emned to sail in her.
We had all three pulled up on the
row of the hill, and now I marched
cross the road and addressed my uncle,
I think it right to tell you, sir" says /,
there's nothing that will bring me on
oard that Covenant"
He seemed to waken from dream.
Eh?s he said. whats thatg"
| told him over again.
"Well, WELL" he said, swe'H have to
lease ye, suppose. But what are we
sanding here for? It's perishing cold.
nd if I'm no mistaken they're buskine
he Covenant for sea-"
CHAPTER VI.
WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEENS FERRY,