Martinsburg statesman-democrat. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1906-1921, 1907-03-22
Davy Jones. annex


docks, amid the mud and lumber of
that wonderful place, Is an unpreten-
tious building, and in the vaults be-
low, in a catacumb Of old clothas and
queer baggage, are stocked the belong
ings of those who have gone down to
the sea in ships and never returned.
Now and then, but not often, pale
woman il may be troubles the serenity
of that cloak room Of the dead, and be-
ing conducted below, is guided through
the maze Of ownerless baggage until
presently with a start she cries out:
THAT'S Bills bag, mister; the one
juet over your head. / knows it by
the patch l sewed in store lie started.
and while the woman waits, wide-eyed
her guide reaas from the white
label tied 10 the sailors sack: "WH.
iiam Smith,A. B., snip Southern Star,
washed overheard, Desolation Straits,
March 1906
That's i'm says the wife, gulping
down her sorrow, and the great bag is
pulled from its resting place looking
like a badly packed Christmas stock
ing, warty and 0ulging in odd corners
with the dead seaman's belongings.
And on top are lashed his worn sea
boots and rough parcel in this foreign
paper hich they found under the pill
low In his bunk. Hard usage and sea
spray have p'ayed havoc with the thin
rice paper and the secret that B i'll was
guarding so jealousy appears in the
form of a dainty flaxen haired doll,
with mild blue eyes, calculated to fas-
cinate the heart of any little maid at
sight.
"Ah," cries the woman, proud
for the moment of her husbands
remembrance, thaps for Minnie
he said he would bring 1t or
send it, she adds, with unconscious
pathos, "if he could not come himself,u
and she hides the doll in her shawl,
ana IN an outburst of emotion goes out
with her hGd, and Bill disappears for
ever from b story.
There they lie in neatly ordered
rows, those Old canves bags, each with
is te"se official label dangling from it,
a fine, amt odor of foreign chimes per-
vading the gray dusk Of the passages.
Yet wat storehouse of romance they
toprasent, what an inspiration for some
Ieufeldrollah of the salt water. There
is an individuality about every homely
package. What, fer instance, was the
fate OF the poor prentice lad who own
ed that duck bolster, and where is the
mother whose gentle fingers stitched
mis- initials ON il 50 lovingly? Tae grim
simpl city of the official deta Is merely
descr be him as Missing." aad that's
the end of it. Poor mother! In the
next recess lie the worldly goods of a
North Sea whaler. You can atill smell
thesPerm oil distinctly when 70 u come
within three yards of them. There is
an accordian on top of the pile, with
all the music long since out of it, and
a half carved walrus tusk beside 1t,
with a picture Of the dead mans ship
on enc side and OF the other a SYM
bolie sketch of himself at home, one
hand round his wife's waist and JOY
oUsly large tankard of beer held aloft
in the other.
A little further on is q sea-stained ba
a flute, and opium pipe, crossed sal
tire on top (that is the escutcheon. All
5lng0 and his epitaph says he fell
overheard somewhere in the roarin
forties. Luckless heather! 1t will be
a long swim home thence 10 the an
.cestral burial place by the Yellow
River. And still little further on,
and the tumble of pathos and poverty,
OF commonplace and high romance,o
sea chests and bags and baskets, in a
corner where those things are put
which have waited longest unclaimed,
is an old portmantea u, gray with dust
yet obviously Of better class than its
companions in misfortune. You turn
its creeking Kings gently, expecting
tarpanlins am SOU westers. and there,
spoiled and yellow, but arranged with
feminine grace, is q brides outfit.
Everything unused, down to the mod
estly folded white gloves, rusty as
their buttons, and on the bosom of the
dress is photograph, faded beyond
recognition with prayerboN by it,
and rose leaf still marking the mar
riage service.
AS strangea stOrehouse of strange
things as any in the big city is this
unclaimed-property office of the docks,
and few so to its gray corridors to
search for traces of the missing, still
fewer come away in a talkatiye mood.
Sleep and Eat ToaetheP
n