The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1897-09-18
Il want none Of your money" said
{, ''but what YOU owe NV father. III

{. but what you owe my father. III
| get you one glass. and no more"
When brought it to him, heseizedi 1t
| greedily. and drank it out.
"Ay, ay," said he, "that's some bet
did that doctor say how long 1 was to
| lie here in this old berth?"
"A week at least" said I.
''I'hunder!" he cried. IA weekl
can't do that; they'd have black spot
on me by then. The lubbers is going
! about to get the wind of me this blessed
moment; lubbers as couldn't keep
what they got. and want to nail what is
7, anothcr's. Is that seamanly behavior.
I now, want to know? But I'm saw
!, ing soul. never wasted good money
J of mine, nor lost it, neither; and Ill
trick EN- again. I'm not afraid on 'em.
/ Ill shake out another reef, matey, and
| dadtlle 'em again"
AS he was thus speaking he had risen
! from bed with great difficulty. holding
A; to my shoulder with IL grip that almost
made me cry. and moving his legs like
SO much dead weight. His words,
spirited as they were in meaning. con-
trasted sadly with the weakness of tho
voice in which they were uttered. He
paused when he had got into sitting
position oh the edge.
THAT doctors done me-" he MUIR
INJURED. "My ears is singing. Lay me
back"
Beforel could do much to help him he
had fallen back again to his former
I,, L., F.,
"Jim." he said, at length, you saw
that seafaring man to-day?"
"Rlack Dog?" l asked.
"Ah! Black Dog" says he. "llc's n
bad 'un; but there's worse that put
him on. Now. if l can't get away no.
how. and they tip me the black spot,
mind you, it's my old scu-chest they're
after. You get on u horsc-you cun.
A., can't you? Well, then you get on
horse, and go to-wcll, yes, | will!-to
! that eternal doctor swab, and tell him
! topipc nll neutrality-suspicious. and SIGH
| and he'll lay 'cm aboard at the Ad-
/ miral Hrnbow--;,ll old llnt's crew,
man and boy. all on 'cm that's left. l
/; was first mate, was, old Flint's first
(, mate, and I'm the on'y one as knows the
/ place. He gave il me to Savannah,
! when he lazy a-,lying. like as if was to
| now, you see. But you wont peach un-
less they get the black spot on me- or
F; unless you see that Black Dog again.
= or scafaring man with one leg, Jim
i him above ALL"
/. "lut what is the black spot captain {"
l asked.
f, "That's summons. mate. I'll tell
you if they get that. But you keep your
(, weathcr-eyc open. Jim, and I'll share
: with you equals, upon my honor"
He wandered Il little longer, his voice
growing weaker; but soon after had
given him his medicine, which he took
> like n child, with the remark. "if ever
seaman wanted drugs. it's me-" he fell
+, at last into heavy, swoon-likc sleep in
/: which left him. What I should have
i done had all gone well do not know.
! Probably should have told the whole
/, story to the doctor; for was in mortal
fear lest the captain should repent of
| his confessions and make an end of me.
But as things fell out, my poor father
/ died quite suddenly that evening,
which put all other matters on one side.
! Our natural distress, the visits of tho
ncighbors, the arranging of the funeral,
and all the work of the inn TO be car
ricd on in the meanwhile, kept me so
busy that had scarcely time TO think
of the captain, far less TO be afraid of
him.
lie got downstairs next morning, ito
be sure. and had his meals rs usual,
though he ent little. and had more, l
am afraid than his usual supply of
rum, for he helped himself out Of the
bar. scowling aud blowing through his
nose, and no one dared to cross him.
On the night before the funeral he was
as drunk as ever; and it was shocking,
III that house of mourning, to hear him
singing away his ugly old srn-song;
but. wenk MS he was. we were all in fear
OF death for him, and the doctor was
suddenly taken up with case many
miles away. and was never near tho
house after my fathers death. ! have
said the captain was weak; and indeed
he seemed rather to grow weaker than
regain his strength. lie clnmbcrcd up
and downstairs, and went from the
parlor to the bar and back again, and
sometimes put his nose o,,t-of-doors to
smell the sea, holding on to the walls
us he went for support, and breathing
hard and fast like n man on a steep
mountain. He never particularly add
dressed me- and it is my belief he had
MS good as forgotten his confiClcnccs;
but his temper was more Eighty, and,
allowing for his bodily weakness, more
violent than ever. lie hand an alarming
way now when he was drunk of draw
ing his cntlnss and laying il bare be-
fore linn on the table. But, with all
that. he minded people less, md seemed
shut up in his own thoughts and rather
wandering. Once, for instance, to our
extreme wonder. he pipcd up to diff
frrent air, kind Of country lovc-song.
that he must have learned in his youth
before he had begun to follow the sen.
So things passed until, the day after
the funeral. and about three o'clock of
bitter, foggy, frosty afternoon. was
stnnding Attn door for II moment, full
of sad thoughts about my father, when
l saw some one drawing slowly near
along the road. He was plainly blind,
for he tapped before him with a stick,
and wore Il great green shade over his
eyes and nose; and he was l,unched, as
If with age or weakness, and wore a
huge old tattcrrd sca-clonk with n hood