El Paso daily herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1881-1901, 1900-08-18
CHAPTER Xxx.
DECISIONS.

CHAPTER Xxx
DECISIONS.
When Cambel arrived back at the Port
Edes, he found Captain Kettle sitting in
the chartroom with pen gripped between
his teeth and rhyming dictionary in bis
hands surrendering it's reluctant treasures
On the mahogany desk in front of him
was sheet of much corrected manuscript,
with capital letter at the commencement
of every line. And beyond, in a jam pot,
was a bunch of waXen leaved magnolia
flowers, with two coral pink magnolia
cones, set around with a frill of sheeny
leaves.
Captain Owen Kettle was composing a
sonnet on the magnolia, and logged work
was trying to finish what a one line in
spiration had begun. The two gaunt
mosquitoes who had slipped into the room
when the wire gauze door was shut grew
visibly fatter without danger to life or
wing In his fine creative frenzy Captain
Kettle never felt their touch.
Hello, Kettle, got back at last, you
see and devil of time I've had Of it. -
ethan popish saint more holier,''
wrote The little man, reading the words as
they sprawled across the paper. And
now 1 want to get in something about the
smell Angel breathed' is the thing, only
it don't seem to lay up handily with the
rest. Angels are certain to have good
breath, and these flowers smell fine as
anything I've tried. just take sniff at
them yourself. Well, Mr.. Cambel, here
you are again, and haven't said I'm glad
to see you. But I am. It's good as
meat to put eyes on you and hear what's
to be doing next. 1 tell you it's been pref
ty dull work with the donkeyman of all
day bird shooting, and me as ships hus-
band sitting here on my own tail. 1 fancy
h. fcho OF al l. pry IN
board same you would into house
without having to hail a boat!"
"A little not much. I was prepared for
any thing after what saw betw cen Point
Sebastian and here. 4"
II fancy they'll have to bring out new
geography books about this part of Flor
ida. 1 never saw such place. Why, sir,
the blessed ground fairly got up and
walked during that blow. 1 don't think
the steamer shifted much. Canted a bit
to leeward maybe, but didn't bulge out
of her keel groove, but it was the shores
that fetched weigh. When once they broke
moorings, the trees set back their Shout
ders and sheeted home, and great islands
bore down on us like ships. The light
ming burned flares all the time, and 1
watched it through the chartroom ports
because none could stand on deck outside
I'm not a frightened man, Mr.. Cambel, or
superstitious, but l thought that night
was too hard for a cyclone. / tell you,
sir, and you may laugh if you like, 1
reckoned it up that Judgment day had
come, and l got the prayer book and read
myself the burial service clean through,
bits and all, to fetch whatever
happened, land or water. 1 haven't led
bad life, Mr.. Cambel Pretty religious
ashore, and never sparing myself trouble
In hazing crew SO as to carry out owners
business at sea- and when I'd said that
czYA =
be expected.
I'D heard chap prophesying about the
end of the world in Waterloo street, Liver
pool not a year ago. and bought pam
phlet of him, and it showed the thing out
according to Revelation and Daniel all
as clear as a big book could have done. 1t
was to finish in 1908, and there was pic
ture of the earthquake and another pic
ture of people going up to the sky in their
ordinary clothes. And when looked out
through the glass at that tearing, raging
DEVILS work that was going on outside,
and the river and the lakes disappearing
before my eyes, and dry land taking their
place, l felt sure that the chap was right
in the main, only he'd got bit foul in
his dates.
There was only one thing" the little
man added plaintively-''I wished I'd a
new washed jacket aboard. The one I'd
on was that smeared and crumpled I
should have felt ashamed to appear in it. %
Well, I'm glad you weren't hurt"
said Cambei 1T was a terrible night for
any one in this area
Il came through it, Mr.. Cambel, with
out so much finger nail broken. So
did the donkeyman. He came up here and
asked if 1 wanted him when the blow be-
gan, and when 1 told him No he went
to his own room and turned in and slept
till it was over. Now. the niggers didn't.
When the steamer began to list they got
scared. Thought she'd turn bilge upper
most, suppose, and bolted down to their
f1shbox of a schooner which lay alongside.
OF course when the shores slipped their
moorings and bore down on her the
schooner had to give, and the niggers are
buried somewhere yonder to starboard,
but where 1 don't know. I've looked but
there isn't SO much a spar, there isn't
SO much as a Whit of circus to put label
on the spot. I've had mighty little to do
latterly, and might have stuck up some
sort of IA signboard to 'em, ayers though
they were, If 1 could have fixed the place
to acre, but when a grave head gets
bigger than that you may be writing
here lieth' in more senses than one. So
left them quiet.