Omaha daily bee., 1903-04-19

P43f4k" 1t is filled with the romance ana
~ the simple philosophy that con-
slant contact with a body Of water ever
seems to give to those who know its every
current and mood.
Pat Donovan may be found seven days
in the week at the end of a rotten wharf
jutting out from Staten Island into New
York bay. near the little railroad station
at New Brighton. He wears a ~sou'wester
over his grizzled, age-worn face, and he
is always ready to ferry all who venture on
the pier across the arm of the bay to the
factory-lined Jersey shore, a good mile
away.
Most of Pats passengers are workers in
the factories, who have their homes in
Staten Island beyond the pail Of smoke.
Once in a great while, however, a stranger
picks his way along the wharf and lowers
himself into one Of the aged ferryman's
ancient boats.
A minute or two later the boat glides
past the half submerged wreck Of what
apparently was cace a fine craft of some
sort. Then, as the stranger looks with
awakened curiosity at the heavily-rusted
machinery, the remnants of a gilded cabin,
and the crumbling pilot house, Pat Donovan
shifts his tobacco and anticipates his pas
senger's question.
That" he says, with gruff cheerfulness,
'Hs what's left of my fortune
Eyes, sir" he continues, after letting the
boat drift close up to and past the wreck
and then resuming the oars, there's the
remains of forty years work, and here 1
am, a man of seventy odd, doing the same
thing 1 did when 1 started out getting
what's sunk back of you, sir.
Look behind you and see what l used
to own. Just about a mile of the water
frNnf nnor fhn nannnoH citation N4toag I
was worth pretty close to half a million at
one time, all made by working night and
day along here from the day I landed from
Ireland until fifteen years ago.
Yes, sir, 1 started out ferrying as a
youngster right here where I'm ferrying
you across now. That was fifty years ago.
Been ferrying ever since, too, but not in a
rowboat all that time. No., stree. I've
taken 'em over in as fine a steam craft as
ever carried passengers in New York bay.
And that's why I'm rowing 'em across to-
day.
Tell you how it was. Fifteen years ago
l got tired seeing my men rowing pas
sengers over and 1 thought of the property
I'd managed to get hold of with my savings
from year to year. l calculated 1 had sew
eral hundred thousand dollars in real
estate and buildings on it., and so / said
to myself: Pat, l reckon you've got
enough money to take your customers
across in a decent boat And / gave orders
for a steam ferryboat to be built.
she was as fine a craft as ever plowed
its way through the bay-white sides, gold
paint and looking glasses in cabins, and
a pilot house with hard woodwork and brass
trimmings. Lord, l was proud Of it-so
stuck up proud that l took 1t across
myself the first week and it behaved like
the trim little boat it was.
Then one day l didn't feel like work
ing, and turned it over to a hired pilot
and damn me, sir, it burned to the waters
edge that same day.
Discouraged? A boatmap never stops
pulling in a squall. / was in love with
Mary O'Donnell and l made up my mind to
bring it up from the grave. which did,
though it cost me another $25, 900 mortgage
on my property"
Pat Donovan spat rehectively over the
boats side.
Same old story-it burned a second
time, two months later. But it's bones are
not back yonder. They belong to Mary
O'Donnell, the third, and it went like the
others.
Yes, sir, those boats burned up under
my very feet in less than five years, and
that's why l lost my nerve for a while and
then lost what property l had left after
clearing off the mortgages.
Doesn't pay to lose your nerve, does It
Well, l got mine back after a time. and sc;
about rowing across here as I'd done before
l could rub two quarters together; and here
l am, still at it.
Ever wish for my fortune back?" The
steel-gray eyes twinkled. Cant say l ever
did. Amt l doing what / did when l hat
Mary DEMONSTRATING 'em across
Doing something was my best pleasure
then, and doing something gives me my
best times now. Besides, amt l got the
memory of the days when / had plenty o.
money and when folks called ne Mr.. Dono-
van,' and not plain Pat? Just to think o
those fine times, when I'm smoking my pipe