The Odanah star. [volume] (Odanah, Ashland Co., Wis.) 1912-1916, 1913-10-03


Mother never knew what Capp
Nose was like on weekdays, and Sun
day didn't happen aboard of the Zede.
kiah. | remember hidin' away at the
back of Gle Oleson's bunk. axing God
please to turn me into an animal. Any
sort woulG do, because seen men
kind to animals. You know an animal
mostly consists Of pure heart. and
four legs, which is great advantage.
Queer world though, if all our prayers
was granted.
Delay thar. A man sets out to tell
adventures, and if his victims don't
find some excuse for getting absent.
he owes them all the happiness he's
got. It's mean to hand out sorrow to
persons bearing their full share al
ready. So we proceeds to the night
when ran from the Zedekiah. and
joined the Happy Ship.
We lay In the big ice pack of Cape
Breton. The zedekiah was old, just
pain. an punk, and she did surely
groan to the thrust of she pack. I was
too scared to sleep, SD went up on
deck.
I'd allus watched for a chance to
run away, and thar was Jim. the an
chor-watch. squatting on the titts
dead asleep. He used to be that way
when nobody chased him.
seen the lights OF the three-masted
schooner couple of miles to wind
ward. grabbed a sealing gaff and
slid down on the ice.
First, as the pans rocked under me,
was scary, next | warmed, gettin
venturesome, until / came near slid
ing into the wet, and after that I'd
look before lep'.
You know how the grinding piles
an edge around each pan, of broken
splinters? That edge shone white
agin the black of the water, all the
guide had. But times the squalls of
wind was likes scythes edged with
sleet. so l was blinded. waiting, freez-
ing until lull came, and I'd get on.
It was broad day, and l reckon each
step weighed a ton before l made
that schooner
A gray man, fat, with chin whis-
kerr lifted me in oversize. Come
far?' says he, and / turned round to
show him the Zedekiah She wasn't
there. She was gOne-foundered
So that's how came aboard Of the
Happy Ship, just like a ILL lost dog.
with no room in my SKI in for more'n
homes and famine. Captain Smith
used to say he'd signed me on as fam
lily ghost; but he paid me honest
wages, fed me honest grub, while as
to clothes and bed, was snug as a
little rabbit. He taught me reading
and writing, and punctuation with his
belt, sums, hand, reef, and steer. cate
chism, knots and spices, sewing, sque-
gee, rule of the road, soojie moojie,
psalms of David, constitution of the
United States, and playing the from
bone, with three pills and good lick
ing regular Saturday nights. Mothers
little boy began to set up and take no.
tice.
The five years in the Pawtucket all
along, from Montreal to Colon, from
banjos plunking In them portales Of
Vera Cruz, to bugles crying reva.ly In
Quebec, and the oyster boats asleep
by Old Point Comfort, and the Glouces-
ter feet a-storming home past SABLE,
and dagos basking on Havana qnays.
Suck oranges in the dinghy under the
moonlight, waiting to help the old man
aboard when he's drunk. If ever he
went ashore without me, I'd be like
a lost dog, and he drunk before the
sun was over the yard-arm. But away
together it wasn't master and boy but
just father and son. He'd even named
me after himself. and that's why my
names Smith.
.(To BE CONTINUED0