The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1899-05-29

| OF the yards from the mizzenmast, and
| the rigging up of what British sailors
| call the Norwegian house flag" wind
| mill pump between the main and mizzen
| masts Thus transformed, she began
her degraded existence under new mas
| tiers, crawling to and fro across the At
| lantic to Quebec in summer, Pensacola
or Doboy in winter, uneasily and spirit
less as some gallant hunter dragging a
timber wagon in his old age. Unpaint-
| ed, Weather-b leached and with sails so
patched and clouted that they looked
like slum washing hung out to dry, she
| became, like the rest of the wood
scoWs," thing for the elements to scott
at, and, seen creeping eastward with a
deckload of deals piled six feet high fore
and aft above her topgallant rail, was as
| pathetic as a pauper funeral. Eight
| seamen now We're all that the thrift of
| her owners allowed to navigate her, who
| with the captain, two mates, carpenter
| and cook, made up the whole of her
crew, exactly the number of the officers
she used to carry in her palmy days
One day when she was discharging In
London there came alongside an old sea-
man, weatherworn and hungry looking.
Something in the build of the old ship
caught his eye, and with quivering lips
and twitching hands he climbed on
board. Round about the deck he quest
ed until, half hidden by a huge pile of
lumber, he found the bell and read on it,
Lion, London, 1872" Then he sat
down and covered his face with his
hands. Presently he arose and sought
the grimy mate purposefuily. At an in
credibly low wage he obtained the berth
of cook-it was either that or starve, al
though now he had found his old ship,
he felt that he would go for nothing
rather than miss another voyage in her,
Soon after they sailed for the fall voy-
age" to Quebec, making successful run
over much to the delight of the ancient
cook, who was never weary of telling
any one who would listen of. the feats of
sailing performed by the Lion when he
was quartermaster of her way back in
the fifties." Urged by greed, for he was
part owner, and under no fear of the
law, the skipper piled upon her such a
deckload of deals that she no longer re-
sembled ship; she was only compare
BILE to vast timber stack with three
masts. She was hardly clear Of New
foundland on her homeward passage,
when one of the most terrible gales of
all that terrible winter set in. Snow and
sleet and frost-fog, a binding white
whirl of whitening cold, assailed her,
paralyzing the hapless handful Of men
who vainly strove on their lofty plat
form to do their duty, exposed fully to
all the wrath of that icy tempest. One
after one the wornout sails, like autumn
leaves, were stripped from yard and
stay; day after day saw the perishing
mariners die. The sea froze upon her
where it fell, SO that now she resembled
an iceberg; and though the remnant of
the crew tried many times to get at the
fastenings of the chains that secured the
deckload so as to send it adrift, they
could not. AT last only one man was
left alive, and he, strangely enough, was
was at it's height, he suddenly seemed to
renew all his lost strength. Buckling
tight his belt with firm fingers, new
light cleaning in his eyes, he strobe aft !
and seized the long disused wheel. |
Standing erect and alert he conned her
getting her we'll before the |
wind. Onward she fed, as if knowing |
the touch of an old friend. Gradually |
the lean fingers stiffened, the fire died |
out of the eyes, until, just as the last fee
BILE drops in that brave old heart froze
solid, the Lion dashed into mountain
Gus berg and all her shattered tin1bers
fell apart. Lovely and pleasant had she
oeen in her life, and in her death she was
no danger to her wandering sisters
London Spectator.