The Bon Homme County independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1904-1913, 1907-06-27
he P1underers
As J.cuTLiFFE HYNE.
BY c. J. cUTLiFFE HYNE.

out Cambel
II knock off bit Of verse occasion
ally" said the skipper complacently,
when I'm in the mood, that is. 1t
generally comes like this, when I've
been tail twisting the hands and have
a spell OF rest and a think after
ward"
II see. The outcome Of vivid con-
trast," said Cambel He imagined TO
be Of the "heroric' order to the verge
OF melodrama, AS Ii happened. he
could not conveniently have made a
worse guess Kettle tugged from his
pocket doubled up exercise book red
dened slightly under the tan and hand
ed 1t across. His companion fiattened
out the crease, and from the light that
came from a chartroom port dipped
into the manuscript verses for himself.
To his astonishment they were one and
all sonnetS and ballads which might
Wen have been written by sentimental
school girl, They breathed of love and
devotion and premature fading away.
ana at least three gushing adjectives
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
he had 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
to an ode of that spring which he had
never witnessed ashore and love songs
to ladies he had never met outside the
covers Of cheap fiction. 1t was all
imagination, and untutored uninspired'
imagination at taat.
AS a result, Cambel found the poems
too killingly funny for words and was
consumed with wild desire for laugh
fnV4 hut hot sol kAay IAA
their maker, glaring anxiously at him
from the opposite shadow, he does not
let so much as the tail of a smile dance
up from the corner of his mouth. He
had to enjoy and endure in silence, and
with the exercise book thrust out to
the yellow light, then he read on
through the stanzas diligently.
In one, evidently autobiographical,
the writer spoke Of himself as "timid,
frafl gazelle," in another he addressed
his remarks from the mouthpiece of
coy and cooling turtledove" to "sylph-
like maiden OF naughty mien" who at
the time OF narration was the "pewitch-
ing, enhancing, unparalleled queen" of
another gentleman's hearth. An "Ode
to Excellence" which commenced
Hairy Alfred, brother bard" was evil
IDENTIFY directed at a contemporary, but
the past was cared for in Cleopatra, a
Lament" which footnote stated could
be sung to the tune of "Greenland's
ley Mountains" Probably as colIec-
lion Captain Kettles was unique in it's
clumsy, maudlin sentiment and its gen.
eral unexpectedness. M
Meanwhile the auditor was fidgeting
nervously. He had not got over that
initial nervousness which publication
gives He hungered for q criticism
favorable if possible. At last he made
bold to ask for it.
You're a wonderful man, Kettle" re-
turned his companion, quite meaning
what he said, and unless had seen
those verses for myself Ia 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 ping to pursue the subject further
when something fell upon his ear which
turned his thoughts into very differ
ent key.
"By James, there's the engine
stopped. What's up now, / wonder?"
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
rlurmur OF voices and a patterinG of
footsteps from the forecastle, and pres
entity a.steady stream of men began to
ascend the bridge deck ladders. Among
crences to the gold, Half a million yell
low soVereigns, boys!" and threats
there was no mistaking, Teach the old
man manners 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 this
means!" commented Captain Kettle in
an undertone. He was cool as ice and
On the moment had decided how to act.
Now, Mr.. Cambel, slip into the chart
room for your 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
n red nights work for those dogs. But
well rub the fear OF death into them
before we've done this time-into those
that are left, Chat is. Get your pistol,
quick. sir. and skin your eye for handy
shooting"