Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1902-11-13
CHAPTER I.

It has often struck me as being
rernarka BILE circumstance that, in
nine cases out Of ten, a mans sue
cess in life is not found in the ca
reer he originally chose for himself,
but in another and totally different
one. That mysterious power, force
of circumstances" is doubtless re-
sponsible for this, and no better
illustration for my argument could
be found than my own case. be-
lieve my father intended that |
should follow the medical profession,
while my mother hoped would enter
the church. My worthy uncle, Clut-
terfield, the eminent solicitor Of Lin
coins Inn Fields, offered me my
articles, and would possibly have
eventually taken me into partner
ship. But | would have none of these
things. My one craving was for the
sea. If I could not spend my life
upon salt water, existence would
have no pleasure for me. My father
threatened, my mother wept, Uncle
Clutterfcld prophcsied all sorts Of
disasters, but ! remained firm.
every we'll" said my father, when
he realized that further argument
was hopeless, "since you must go to
sea, go to sea you certainly shall.
But you mustn't blame me if you
find that the life is not exactly what
you anticipate, and that you would
prefer yourself on dry land once
more"
Il willingly gave this promise. and
a month later left Liverpool as an
| apprentice on the clipper ship Maid
| ct Normandy. Appropriately enough
| the captains name was Fairwcather,
| and he certainly was character in
| his way. In fact the whole ships
company were originals. Had my ia
Their searched all England through he
could not have discovered a set Of
men, from the captain to the cook 5
mate, who would have been better
calculated to inStil in young mans
heart a distaste for Father Neptune
and his oceans. In the mum Der of the
various books Of the sea | have en-
| countered was one entitled: "A
Floating He'll" When reading it |
had not expected to have the misfor-
tune to be bound aboard vessel of
this type. 1t was my lot, however,
to unC ergo the experience. We car
ried three apprentices, including my
self, each of whom had paid n large
sum for the privilege. l was the
youngest. The eldest was the son
of country parson, q mild, decent
lad, who eventually deserted and be
came a house-painter in the South
Island of New Zealand. The next
was washed overheard when we were
rounding the Horn on our homcward
voyage. Poor lad, when all was said
and done he could not have been
much worse of, for his life on board
was q disgrace to what is some times
enormously called human nature"
In due course, as we cleared for San
Francisco, and long before we
crossed the line. I was heartily tired
ago as it is, sailors were not so well
protected even as they are now, and
on q long voyage aboard = sailing
ship it was possible for q good deal
to happen that was not logged, and
much of which was forgotten before
the vessel reached its home-port
again. When ! returned from my
first voyage my family inquired how
liked my profession, and with al
truth. I informed them that | did
not like il at all, and that | would
be willing to have my indentures can
celed and to return to shore life
once more, If l might be so permit
ted. My father smiled grimly. and
seemed to derive considerable salts
FACTION from the fact that he had
prophesied disaster from the outset
mo" he said, you have made your
bed, my lad, and now you must lie