The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1903-02-01

He dropped the blaeKthorn and out
stretched his hands faIteringly. like a
child learning to walk. Mrs. Noel tried
to force her way to his side. but the
gamblers from the smoking room pushed
her back and closed their ranks to
charge on the big stoker. their faces
affame, The crew fell in line for &
melee, shouting opDrobrium.
over the crest Of this emergency =
voice was aung-a roIlickIng voice. just
husky enough 70 give a rich whinsi-
eaIity to the song. 1t vas o-Mara He
had braeed himself on his feet and
thrown his head far back. so that the
dripping of blood from his wound might
be hidden from the eyes Of his ex-
asperated fellow passengers. and these
were SO amazed at his stoIcIsm that
hey halted in confusion Ell etait IN
petit navlre." he sang: and the crisis OF
mob fury began to dissolve under the
spell of this familiar, foolish dftty of
! Brittany:
/ Il etait IN petit navire,
/ Qui n'aVaIt ja-ja-iamais navigue:
! On lui IL faire IN long voyage;
+ t(ui dura cinq-cinq on six semaines.
] There was a soft stamping Of feet on
the deck, and waggng Of heads in
time with the melody At the end Of the
second verse. Figure de Grenouilie was
/ aourishing his I'D with the air OF q
drum major on parade. Voices harshened
/ by The sea Joined with JUNCTION in the
repetition Of each line. as required by
the melody. Rendered in English dog
gerel. the words might read;
/ It was a ut-Iit-IlttIe ship.
Which never'd been nav-navfgated;
1 They took It on a long trip-trip-
To sail five weeks or six twas fated
After those weeks. hve-fve or six.
They'd wine nor bread no Iong-Ioag-
longer.
So all drew lots. in this sad TX.
For one 10 a9Dease the rests hung
hunger.
The lot it fell to the Cap-Captafn-
They soon gob-gObbIed him, might and
main,
It was a morseI to be rolled on the
tongue. this chfIdishIy grueso1ne refrain.
Gaunt torsos on which ridges of muscles
were sEetehed in coal dust swayed to the
lit Of the tune. To The sailors and fur
mace men, intoxicated BY their own bold
ness in revolt. there was a fine relish in
the ditty's Iaconie disposal Of the little
ships skipper; and they looked roguish-
y at one another while they chanted.
lie sort tou1ba sur Ie Ca-pi-taine-
lie sort tomba sur le Ca-pi-raine.
i tut bientCt tout devore.
IN the unconscious commingling of
passengers and crew. Mrs. Noel found
herself at the side Of Figure de Gre
nouiHe. The fog had struck a chill
through his skin. made exotic by the
furnace breath, and he was shivering.
Seeing this, she whipped on her shawl
and passed 1t to him. saying:
.-vous avez froid. nest &c pas?"
And the stoker grinned and ducked his
thanks as he threw the garment over
his shoulders. with muttered. .eMerei.
madame Decidedly, he was becoming
civilized, this king with the iron seepter.
Mrs. Noel found a guerdon in the look
that O'Nara gave her as he advanced %
ward her. Figure de Guenounle inter
cepted him. and clapped a heavy hand
on his shoulder shoulder already stir
and sore from the Christening rod OF iron.
o'Mara smiled valIantly. even as he
WINGED. And the stoker shouted:
Comrades, he is our brother. this onei
He knows our coast, and its legends. and
its languages, and its songs. He is not
like the pigs Of the cabin. That's what
We said when he came TO US like bro
Their in cur den yonder. I would have
killed him few minutes ago. but that
was only because it made me angry 10
see good cognac wasted. Now I'll Kill
The man that lays a hand on him. He
shall go with us-he and madame here.
Now to the boats.~
Yes, TO the boats.H echoed o'Mara
in loud voice. climbing on a cabin
skylight But first of all a few words.
my friends, Whatever we do during the
next hour viii be talked about when our
grandchildren are gray. In few days
all the world VIII be talking about us.
They viii talk about US in Paris. In New
York. in London They viii talk about
US in Brittany In every town and VII
lage Of the old coast they viii tell the
names Of the meu of La Biscaya-in
Douarnenez, in Treguier. in Quiberon: ia
St MaIo, and LOrient, and Bresti"
He paused long enough for the sug-
gestlon to take definite picture shaps
in their minds When he spoke again Il
was in tones so measured and poignant
that Mrs. Noel found it easier to con-
strue the unfamiliar dialect. with Paris
ian French fer a key;
or else. he said. they viii be
ashamed-ashamed TO whisper the news.