Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1898-02-22


never been overdrawn. He leaves his wife
to manage the Inn; and as she Is woman
of color, pair Of old bachelors like you and
may be excused for guessing that it is the
sends him back to rowing. 1T.
'P. P. S.-Hawkins may stay one night
with his mother. 1T )"
You can fancy the excitement into
which that letter put me. I was half
beside myself with glee; and if ever l
despised man, it was old Tom Red
ruth, who could do nothing but grumble
and lament. Any of the under game
keepers would gladly have changed
places with him; but such was not the
squire's pleasure, and the squire's pleas
IRE was like law among them all. No.
body but old Redruth would have dared
so much as even to grumble.
The next morning he and set out
there I found my mother in good
health and spirits. The captain, who
had so long been a cause of so much
discomfort, was gone where the wicked
cease from troubling. The squire had
had everything repaired, and the pub
lie rooms and the sign reprinted, and
had added some furniture all
beautiful armchair for mother in the
bar. He had found her boy as an ap-
prentice also, so that she. should not
want help while was gone.
It was on seeing that boy that un-
derstood, for the first time, my situa-
ton. had thought up to that moment
of the adventures before me, not at all
of the home that I was leaving; and
now, at sight of this clumsy stranger,
who waste stay here in my place beside
my mother, 1 had my first attack of
tears. I am afraid led that boy
dogs life, for he was new to the work.
I had hundred opportunities of set
ting him right and putting him down,
and was not slow to profit by them.
The night passed, and the next day,
after dinner, Redruth and l were afoot
again and on the road. 1 said good-by
to mother and the cove where had lived
since l was born, and the dear old Ad-
miral Benbow-since he was repainted,
no longer quite so dear. One of my last
thoughts was of the captain, who had
so often strobe along the beach with his
cooked hat, his saber-cut cheek, and his
old brass telescope. Next moment we
had turned the corner, and my home
was out of sight.
The mail picked us up about dusk
at the Royal George, on the heath,
was wedged in between Redruth and
a stout old gentleman, and in spite Of
the swift motion and the cold night air,
I must have dozed great deal from
the very first, and then slept like a
log uphill and down dale through stage
after stage; for when was awakened,
at last, it was by a punch in the ribs,
and I opened my eyes to find that we
were standing still before large build
ing in city street, and that the day
had already broken a long time.
"Where are we?" asked.
Bristol" said Tom. Get down."
Mr.. Trelawney had taken up his resi-
dence at an inn far down the docks, to
superintend the work upon the schoon-
er. Thither we had now to walk, and
our way, to my great delight, lay along
the quays and beside the great multi
tude of ships of all sizes and rigs and
nations. In one, sailors were singing
at their work; in another, there were
men aloft, high over my head, hanging
TO threads that seemed no thicker than
spiders. Though had lived by the
shore all my life, l seemed never to
have been near the sea till then. The
smell of tar and salt was something
new. I saw the most wonderful figure
heads, that had all been far over the
ocean. I saw, besides, many old sailors,
with rings in their ears, and whiskers
curled in ringlets, and tarry pig-tails,
and their staggering, clumsy sea-wall1;
and if had seen as many kings or arch
bishops I could not have been more de-
lighted.
And I was going to sea myself; to
sea in schooner, with piping boat
swain, and pig-tailed singing seamen;
to sea, bound for an unknown island,
and to seek for buried treasure.
While was still in this delightful
dream, we came suddenly in front of
large inn, and met Squire Trelawney,
all dressed out like sea officer, in
stout blue cloth, coming out Of the door
with a smile on his face, and capital
imitation of a sailors walk.
''Here you are," he cried, land the
doctor came last night from London.
Bravo-the ships company complete!"
''Oh, sir,'' cried I, "when do we sail?"
'Sail!' says be- eve sail Tomorrow"
CHAPTER VIII.
AT THE SIGN OF THE sPYGLAss,