Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1916-1918, 1918-01-11
4 Little Traveller

There once lived in Old Machinaw
a little boy who longed to be . traN
eller. His home was white cottagg
with red roof on the shore of tho
wide blue lake. On the sunset side Of
the cottage were tall pines ana
straight young Christmas trees.
| The little boy, whose name was
John, was only seven years old; but
his mother had told him so many,
many stories of brave men Who made
journeys across the plains, over noun
tains and through deserts and jungles,
and Of men who sailed away on voy.
ages upon vast, unknown seas. that
in his games he often played that he
was Viking bold, or Christopher
Columbus, or David Livingstone In
! South Africa, or even our own Captain
John Smith.
In fact the little boy was extremely
fond Of playing that he was Captain
John Smith, brave and strong, never
afraid of Indians, never homesick for
old England, but ever ready to defend
the weak and do fearless deeds in the
service of his king. A soap-box was
his boat, and in that boat he sailed
and sailed up and down the Atlantic
coast, making discoveries, and leading
his men on exploring expeditions into
the forest. Only, of course, the At
lantic coast was the shore line Of his
fathers lot, and the forest was where
his mother told stories under their
own pine trees. Perhaps the reason
the game seemed so real was because
John always pushed the soap.box over
the pebbles so close to the edge of
the water that sometimes the waves
came "swish-swosh, swishswosh"
against the sides of the box.
Near by lived Captain McDougal.
who owned sail boat He called
John Captain" and he knew that
John longed to be a great traveller.
One morning Captain McDouga1
called out cheerily, Good morning.
Captain, how would you like to sail
over to Mackinac island with me and
stay all night with your aunt and
uncle, and come home with me tomor.
row."
ooh, should like it," exclaimed the
boy.
Run in and ask your mother, then"
advised the captain, because there is
a good breeze now and we must be
off. Tell her you can ship as cabin
boy on the voyage"
Thus suddenly came the little boys
chance to begin his life of brave ad.
venture; thus suddenly he decided to
sail away from his mother, if she were
willing.
Yes, Johns mother told her son to
60; she even tied his little nightie in
a bundle so he could put it on a stick
over his shoulder when he Jared forth.
You see, John brought the stick to his
mother and explained to her that cabin
boys always travelled that way in the
beginning. She also gave him paper
sack filled with sandwiches and
cookies, saying, 1T will do no harm
to have provisions in the hold Of your
ship in case you are wrecked on .
desert island"
There are no desert islands in the
Strait Of Mackinaw, but the two were
playing game.
Don't be lonely" said John to. his
mother when Captain McDou9al step.
ped into the boat and the sails began
to flap and then filled with wind. No,
his mother promised not to be lonely;
she was brave, as became the mother
of future traveller.
At first all went we'll with the voy-
ayers, and John sat in the stern Of the
boat beside the captain, happy as .
Viking bold, while they flew before
the breeze toward the beautiful island.
Then, when they were two miles from
shore, the wind ceased, and the sail
boat stood still with dropping sails,
while the lake smoothed itself out
and smoothed itself out until it
stretched away five miles toward
Mackinaw island like sea of glass.
Looks as if We'll have to wait hero
for a SPELL" remarked the captain,
which reminded John Of new accom-
plishment.
"Can you spell Jehoshaphat'?'' he
demanded.
No, the captain couldn't. John could
so for while the two friends had fun
spelling hard words. After that the
captain told stories and told stories
until even John heard stories enough;
still the lake was like glass-not .
sail stirred.
John remembered his paper sack, so
the two ate dinner; it was nearly
noon anyway, as the captain could tell
by the sun. After dinner the captain
took out his pipe and smoked. John
stretched out on roll of canvas on
the bottom of the boat and dreamed
that he was captive on pirate ship.
When he opened his eyes he thought
for minute that his good friend was
a pirate captain, and he felt most un.
comfortable until he saw white paint.
Pirate ships were always black: Cap
tain McDougal's boat was pure white.
Perhaps If the captain had not been
snoring when the little boy awoke
from his nap the little boy might not
have been homesick, but certain It Is
he no longer wished to 60 to Mackinac
island; he longed to return to his
mother.
John knew the story Of the ancient
mariner, and sitting there with the
captain asleep, with the lake like sea
of glass, made the boy feel as II he
were lone mariner, and, in sight Of
his own red roof, he grew more home
sick every minute; he wondered what
games the boys we're playing on the
beach and if hts father missed him
at noon.
(To Be Continued.)