Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1897-12-18
from England fortune OF E1o, 900 had

from England fortune or Ell, 900 had
been left him by an aunt in Australia.
Joe Westlake on this took little
house in the Stepney district and en-
deavored to settle down comfortably as
an east end gent, but his efforts to ride
to shorcgoing anchor were hopeless.
His mind was always roaming he had
followed the sea, man and boy. for hard
upon so years, and the cry OF his heart
was still for Whitewater without rum
fresh OF salt-it mattered not
what sort Of water it was SO long as it
was-water.
So, as Joe Westlake found that he
couldn't rest ashore, he looked about
him and after awhile fell in with and
purchased a smart little cuttah which
he rechristened the Tom Bowling, out
of admiration of the song which no sail
or ever sang more sweetly than he 1t
was perfectly consistent with his tradi-
lions as man-of-war's man that, having
bought his little ship, he should arm
her. He equipped her with four small
carronades and a pivoted brass six
FOUNDER on the forecastle. He then
went to work to man her, but he did
not very easily find crew. Joe was
fastidious in his ideas of seamen, and
though some whom he cast his eye upon
came very near to his taste it cost him
a great deal of trouble to discover the
particular set CT Jacks he wanted.
Three at last he found-Peter Plum,
Bob Robins and Tom Tuck. Joe was
admiral. Plum, coming next, combined a
number of grades. He was captain, first
lieutenant and boatswain. Robins was
the ships working company, and Tom
Tuck cooked and was the all round
handy man of the Tom Bowling.
1t was MI. Joe Westlake's intention
to live On board his cutter. He furnish
ed his cabin plainly and comfortably
and laid in a plentiful stock Of liquor
and tobacco. AS he was to cruise under
his own flag and was indeed an admit
raj on his own account, he conferred
with his first lieutenant, Peter Plum,
on the question of a color. What de-
scription of flag should he fly at his
masthead? They both started with the
understanding that nothing under a
fathom and half in length was worth
hosting. After much discussion it was
agreed that the device should consist Of
a very small jack in the top corner, and
in the middle a crown with wooden
leg under it, the timber toe bong in
both Westlake's and Plum's opinion
the most pregnant symbol of Britain
MAS greatness that the imagination
could devise.
Within few months Of his landing
from the frigate out of which he had
been paid Mr.. Joseph Westlake was
again afloat, but now in a smart little
vessel of his own. She had been newly
sheathed with copper, and when she
heeled over from the breeze as she
stretched through the winding reaches
of the river the metal shone like gold
above the wool white line Of foam
through which the cutter washed, and
lazy men in barges would turn their
heads to admire her, and red capped
cooks in the cabooses of "ratching" col
Tiers would step to the rail to look, and
sometimes party Of gay and gallant
coclneys, male and female, taking their
pleasure in wherry, would salute the
passing Tom Bowling with flourish Of
hands and pocket handkerchiefs.
Never had old Joe been so happy in
all his life. Of a night he'd bring up in
some secure nook, and after having seen
everything all safe he'd go below with
Peter Plum, and in the cozy interior Of
the little cabin, whose atmosphere was
rendered speedily fragrant with the
perfume Of rum punch, which Joe,
while in the West Indies, had learned
the art of brewing to perfection, the
two sailors would sit smoking their
yards CT pipe clay while they discoursed
on the past, one incident recalling an
other, one briny recollection prompting
an even salter memory, until their eyes
grew moist and their vision dim in
their balls of sight, whereupon they
would turn in and make the little ship
vocal with their noses.
1t happened according to the usual
methods Of time that an Easter Monday
came round, which, as we know, was
the joyful anniversary Of the death Of
the wife Of the retired tailor, Sloper,
whose villa called Labor's Retreat,
stood upon the banks Of the Thames
near Firth. To ftly celebrate this hap
py day MIR. Sloper had invited three
friends to dine with him. 1t was in the
year 1851, when the class Of society te
which Mr.. Sloper belonged was not sc
genteel in its habits as it has since be
come. In other words, Sloper dined al
2 O'Clock. Had he survived into this
age he would not have dreamed Of din
ing at an earlier hour tisan Z.
His friends were Of his own sex. Slo
per did not like the ladies. His friends
calling matters not. They did bushes!
in the east end of London and were al
three thoroughly respectable tradesmer
in small way, wanting perhaps in thu
muscle and depth Of chest and hurricane
lungs of Joe Westlake and Peter Plum
but all Of them able to pay 20 shilling'
in the pound, to give good value fol
prompt cash and DESTROYS not only O.