Williams news., 1917-06-14

clinching of fists, leaping and dancing, kissing of Nolan's feet, and a general rush made to the hogshead by way of spontaneous worship of Vaughan as the deus ex machina of the occasion.
 "Tell them," said Vaughan, well pleased, "that will take them all to Cape Palmas."
 This did not answer so well. Cape Palmas was practically as far from the homes of most of them as New Or leans or Rio Janeiro was; that is, they would be eternally separated from home there. And their interpreters, as we could understand, instantly said, 'Ah, non Palmas," and began to pro- pose infinite other expedients in most voluble language. Vaughan was rath- CT disappointed at this result of his iberality, and asked Nolan eagerly what they said. The drops stood on poor Nolan's white forehead as he hushed the men down, and said:
 'He says, Not Palmas.' He says, Take us home, take us to our coun- try, take us to our own house, take us to our own pickaninnies and our own women.' He says he has an old father and mother, who will die, if they do not see him. And this one says he left his people all sick, and padded down to come and help them, and that these devils caught him in the bay just in sight of home, and that he has never seen anybody from home since then. And this one says" choked out Nolan, "that he has not heard a word from his home in six months, while he has been locked up in an internal barracoon.'
 Vaughan always said he grew gray himself while Nolan struggled through this interpretation. I, who did not un- derstand anything of the passion in- volved in it, saw that the very ele- ments were melting with fervent heat, and that something was to pay some where. Even the negroes themselves stopped bowling as they saw Nolan's agony. and Vaughan's almost equal agony of sympathy. AS quick as he could get words, he said:
 "Tell them yes, yes; tell them they shall go to the Mountains of the Moon, if they will. If I sail the schooner through the Great White Desert, they shall go home!"
 And after some fashion Nolan said so. And then they all fell to kissing him again and wanted to rub his nose with theirs.
 But he could not stand it long; and getting Vaughan to say he might go back, he beckoned me down into our boat. As we lay back in the stern sheets and the men gave way, he said to me: "Youngster, let that show you what it is to be without a family, with out a home, and without a country. And if you are ever tempted to say word or to do thing that shall put a bar between you and your family, your home, and your country, pray God in his mercy to take you that in- stant home to his own heaven. Stick by your family, boy; forget you have a self, while you do everything for them. Think of your home, boy; write and send, and talk about it. Let it be nearer and nearer to your thought, the farther you have to travel from it and rush to it, when you are free, as that poor black slave is doing now. And for your country, boy" and the words rattled in his throat, 'and for that flag" and he pointed to the ship, never dream a dream but of serving her as she bids you, though the serv- ice carry you through thousand hells. No matter what happens to you, no matter who f1atters you or who abuses you, never look at another flag, never let a night pass but you pray God to bless that flag. Remember, boy, that behind all these men you have to do with, behind officers, and government, and people even, there is the country herself, your country, and that you belong to her as you belong to your own mother. Stand by her, boy, as you would stand by your mother, if those devils there had got hold of her todayr' "
 I was frightened to death by his calm, hard passion; but I blundered out that I would, by all that was holy, and that had never thought of doing anything else. He hardly seemed to hear me; but he did, almost in a whisper, say: "Oh, if anybody had said so to me when was of your age!"
 I think it was this half-confidence of his, which never abused, for never told this story till now, which after ward made us great friends. He was very kind to me. Often he sat up, or even got up, at night to walk the deck xx,s% IT explained to me a great deal of my mathematics. He lent me books, and helped me about my reading. He nev- CT alluded so directly to his story again; but from one and another off cer I have learned, in thirty years what am telling. When we parted from him in St. Thomas harbor, at the end of our cruise, I was more sorry than I can tell. I was very glad to meet him again in 1880; and later iu