Kingsbury County independent. (DeSmet, Kingsbury County, S.D.) 1894-1929, 1907-06-28
The P1underers
BY C. j. cUTLiFFE HYNE.

"What-you-you're a poet?' raped
out Cambel.
II knock off a bit of verse occasion
ally" said the skipper complacently,
when I'm in the mood, hat is. 1t
generally comes like this, when I've
been tail twisting the hands and have
a spell Of a rest and a think after
ward
II see. The outcome OF vivid con-
trast," said Cambel. He imagined to
himself that these boosted poems would
be OF the "heroric' order to the verge
Of melodrama. AS it happened. he
could not conveniently have mad a
worse guess. Kettle tugged from his
pocket a doubled up exercise book red
dened slightly under the tan and hand
ed 1t across. His companion flattened
out the crease, and from the light that
came from a Chartroom port dipped
into the manuscript verses for himself.
To his establishment they were one and
all sonnets and ballads which might
we'll have been written by a sentimental
school girl. They breathed OF love and
devotion and premature fading away,
and at least three gushing ~adjectiyes
qualified each tender noun.
There was no word about the sea on
which their author had spent his life
or Of the things OF the sea with which
ne a had all his dealings. He knew
about these as few men did, but they
seemed common to him and unclean.
Consequently he had delivered himself
10 an ode of hat spring which he la
1eYer witnessed ashore and love songs
10 ladies he had never met outside the
covers OF cheap fiction. II was all
imagination, and untutored, uninspired
imagination at that.
AS a result, Cambel found the poems
100 killingly funny for words and was
consumed with a wild desire for laugh
ter, but that red bearded little savage
heir maker, glazing anXiously at him
rom the opposite shadow, he does not
let so much as the tail OF d smile dance
up from the corner of his out He
lad to enjoy and endure in silence, and
with the exercise boob thrust out to
The yellow light, then he read on
through the stanzas diligently.
In one, evidently photographed,
he writer spoke of himself as a ''timid,
Frail gazelle," in another he addressed
his remarks from the mouthpiece of a
"coy and cooling turtledove" to 'sylph-
ike maiden Of naughty mien" who at
The time of narration was the "beWitch-
ng, enhancing, unparalleled queen" Of
another gentleman's hearth. An lode
20 Excellence" which commenced
Hairy Alfred. brother bard" was evil
dently directed at a contemporary, but
the past was cared for in Cleopatra, a
Lament," which a ~footnote stated could
pc sung to the tune of "Greenland's
Fey Mountains Probably as a collec-
lion Captain Kettles was unique IN it's
clumsy, maudlin sentiment and its gen
sral uneXpectedness.
Meanwhile the auditor was fidgeting
nervously. He had not got over that
initial ervousness which publication
gives. He hungered for a criticism
favorable if possible. At last he made
bold to ask for ii.
You're a wonderful man, Kettle" re-
turned his companion, quite meaning
what he said, and unless / had seen
those verses for myself I'd never have
believed you capable of producing
them, no matter what had been told
me about your powers"
The poet gave a sign of relief, and
was going TO pursue the subject further
when something fell upon his ear which
turned his thoughts into a very differ
ent key.
by James, there's the engine
stopped. What's up now, / w~onder?"
He jumped to his feet and stood with
neck craned out, listening. The ring
Of heavy boots made itself heard on the
engine room ladders. Then there was
q murmur of voices and a pattering of
footsteps from the forecastle, and pres
ViAAlS g GltGiJ q Va lllCh bOSall "
ascend the bridge deck ladders. Among
the growing babel of voices came ref
erences TO the gold. Half a million yell
,ow sovereigns, boys!" and threats
there was no mistaking, Teach the old
man or put him over the side"
BY an evident previous arrangement
The men were massing themselves on
The port side of the bridge deck.
"Mutiny, by James, that's what his
means!" commented Captain Kettle in
ar undertone. He was o. as ice and
on the moment had decided how to act.
Now, Mr.. Cambel, slip into the chart
o for o pistol. / have mine in
my pocket. It's us two against the lot
Of 'em, and We'll finish out top side.
Oh. don't you make any error. It'll be
\ red nights work for those dogs. But
We'll rub the fear of death into them
before we've done this time-into hose
that are left, that is. Get your pistol,
quick, sir, and skin u eye for handy
shooting"