Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1897-11-16
LOST IN HARBOR.

Finley johnson In New York Ledger
LOST IN HARBOR.
One golden September afternoon .
brig called the Alice Of London was
running toward the land, bound for the
little port Of Fordham on the southern
coast. A steady breeze coming over the
water filed her sails and sent her slip
ping along at quite record pace. The
rich, warm sunlight turned her gray
md patched canvas into gossamer, gave
An airy lightness TO her clumsy spars,
flashed frsm the pinnacle cover and
,abin skylight, frightened up the bit OF
green paint ON her deckhouse and spar
<led in the spray that shot up from un-
Ter her bow a. she rose and fell with
the motion Of the waves till it looked
like showers Of diamonds. Shoreward
:he faint outline Of the land was just
iiscernible through o veil Of purple
haze. Overhead the sky was fiecked
with clouds that were ever changing in
their shape and tints and as for the
surface Of tho sea, the hues Of il that
September afternoon would have defied
the brush Of the finest artist that ever
lived.
II was an ideal sailors day, and the
nate Of the Alice seemed To think so as
no stood at the wheel, bringing his
eyes every now and again of the COM
pass case to glance Aloft at the swelling
canvas or away over the iridescent sea.
He was young fellow Of some seven or
eight and twenty, keen Of eye and
strong Of limb, with no traces Of gold
lace or fine broadcloth about him-his
dress being an old pair Of check trou-
,ers, q blue jersey and cloth cap. Be-
.ide him stood the skipper, 80 years
older, with fiery face and moist eyes
an ugly customer IL you put him out,
put on the whole kindly natured man,
who knew every headland and every
,and bank round the British coast.
Now and then you caught sight OF o
,haggy figure in shirt and trousers NOV.
ing about the deck forward, and the
sound Of voices came aft from the fore
castle
The Alice had never sailed better.
Already the little port was in sight.
md pretty enough il looked AS they ap-
preached il, with the spars OF the ship
ping peeping up above the breakwater,
behind them the red tiled roofs Of the
houses on the quayside, and behind
these again the great square tower OF
Fordham church, landmark TO mari
ners for many century, and all set in
= frame Of chalk cliffs, green hills and
woodland and lighted up with the gold
en- sunshine that caught every scrap OF
color that was anywhere about, from
the bit Of bunting on ships masthead
to the white houses upon the hillside at
the back Of the town. To enter the har.
Dor today was child's play.
III you keep yonder church about
eight points on your port bow, it'll
take you straight in, said the skipper.
II dare say you could find your way
in blindfolded, remarked the mate.
The old man grunted and shrugged
his shoulders. ~ ought TO, he an
ywered. I've known il as man and
boy these so years, and many's the
time I've had to feel my way in, as you
ay. Only last winter brought mp of
here in fog that thick you couldn't
see half n mile ahead Of you, slack
tide and light wind. But l got in
without scrape.
Another time ! was in charge OF o
topsail schooner, got caught in gale
In the channel and lost our topmast. A
heavy sea was running across the bar,
and thick snow squalls hid the land
every now and again. put two men
at the wheel, kept the lead going, told
all hands to hold on like grim death
and got in without parting q rope yarn.
But ! wouldn't care to do 1t again. It's
al right when you get inside; but, as
you can SEQ for yourself, when you get
strong sou 'wester and heavy sea it's
. dangerous port to make. The timbers
of many q stout craft are scattered
along this coast in winter time. Have
I ever been ashore here? Yes; twice.
The first time ! made mistake i'll the
tides and grounded outside the bar, but
luckily 1t was fair weather, and she
tame of safely next tide. The next
lime thought it was all up with Us.
We were being towed ont in the teeth
sf half q gale, when the hawser parted,
and we fouled the pier, carrying away
all the headgear and went ashore just
inside the breakwater II it had been
outside, she'd have been smashed into
matchwood before morning. But, though
I've been In and out Of Fordham some
times two or three times year for the
last so years, never see that church
without being reminded Of my first voy-
age and its ending.
II was slip Of q lad, barely Is ut
the time, and I'd shipped aboard ketch
called the Pride Of Rochester, for want
u better craft You know what that
means-little food and plenty Of ropes
end, that was my fare. The skipper was
savage and drunken one, too. and I
believe il 1t hadn't been for the mate, .
man named Tucker, ! should have been
pitched overheard before the voyage was
over. We were bound here with q cargo
f slates. The weather was fine. and we
had q good passage. A soon as we'd
discharged the cargo we hauled out into
the river to wait for orders. The skip
Der he goes ashore and right glad l was
70 see the back Of him, leaving me and
Bob Tuskw - that was the mate =
aboard.
"He was decent sort Of chap, and ]
think I'd have done pretty well anything
for him for saving me from the captain.
He tried his best 10 persuade me to give
up seafaring and settle down to some
trade ashore and used to tell me some
Of the things he'd gone through since
he'd been to SEQ. / don't know how
many times he hadn't been shipwrecked,
but though was pretty sick Of It my
self, wouldn't own up to 1t and used
70 think Il would be grand to be able to
tell such yarns as he could. Ah. don't
suppose be ever Thought that was to be
his last voyaee, but It waA II happened
like this: We'd been lying ont in the
siv@ for 0ver . week. whea there came