The San Francisco call., 1896-03-22
Heave away, my Johnny, heave away


To the evident delight of themselves and
the passengers on her decks and the
crowds who lined both sides of the dock.
Sorrow for the time being had given place
| to smiles on the faces of those around,
Notwithstanding the fact that the nearest
and dearest of friends were parting, most
OF them, maybe, never to see each other
again.
1t was a cold, raw, blustery day. The
| ground on shore was carpeted with thick
layer of snow that was frozen hard and the
| rigging of the ships about us was full OF
| icicles. But the crowds paid no attention
| to the freezing blasts that whistled through
their ears, reddening the tips. The soing
out OF packet ship in those days, full OF
passengers, was an incident above the
| ordinary and created a good deal of ex-
cltement. The populace turned out en-
masse to see them depart. Molly and
May, decorated in cheap straw hats and
dressed in clean starched calicoes, came
down to the levee to bid good-by to their
| sailor lovers, and the sobs and sighs of
some lovesick swain who but few mo-
ments before had kissed the ripe red lips
of his departing sweetheart, gave an addi-
| tional coioring TO the animated scene.
The Columbia made fast to the dock
astern of us, her pilot having concluded
that snowstorm was brewing, and he
| decided to remain in the outer basin all
night. l was glad OF this for that morn
| ing our captain handed me letter from
home which contained the informal
that three of my schoolmates had left for
| the Columbia for New York. They were
! girls and their passages had been prepaid
| by their uncles who were in the States.
must go and see them. With much diff.
fculty found them standing in group
by themselves on the port side forward of
the galley door. They greeted me most
sffectionately, indeed they wept for joy
and smothered me with kisses. l was
very young then, they being six years
older, and this chance meeting in strange
land, with the deep blue sea between US
and our straw-thatched homes and the
parents that we loved, made it the more
interesting. For six years they and | at
tended the village school, during all of
which time they sat on the row OF benches
in front of me.
This little schoolhouse in which we
learned how to make pot-hooks and hang
| ers was warmed in summer from without
| by the welcome sunshine, and in winter a
blazing turf fire heated it from within. but
the scholars had to furnish the fuel, each
one bringing his or her share. They were
rosy-cheeked village beauties, all three OF
them, with minds as pure as the opening
OF dawn and hearts that were light and
|
and they were not only willing but glad to
risk winters passage over its stormy
waters to seek their fortunes in the land
beyond. Where they are now l do not
know, but If alive / trust they were sue
cessful, and If they are dead hope they
are in heaven.
| did know three but since the death Of
Detective John Coffey / only know two
men now who sailed in the Columbia with
Captain Bryer in the fifties-John Deery
| and Billy Ellison, the old city front boat
| man. Both tasted the sweets and the Bit
ter OF packet-ship life. They have lived in
| this City for more than forty years, are
above want and have been these many
years. Like myself they stroll down to the
wharf to look at the old Columbia. She is
| now owned by Renton, Holmes & Co. Of
this City and is kept hard at work hauling
lumber from Puget Sound to this port,
while the Germania belongs to P. B. Corn
wall ana is employed in bringing coal from
his mines. DENIS KEARNEY.