|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 13
"They've struck on good," said Dan, between his half-shut eyes.
"Manuel hain't room fer another fish. Low ez a lily-pad in still
water, Aeneid he?"
"Which is Manuel? I don't see how you can tell 'em 'way off, as
you do."
"Last boat to the south'ard. He fund you last night," said Dan,
pointing. "Manuel rows Portugoosey; ye can't mistake him. East o'
him--he's a heap better'n he rows--is Pennsylvania. Loaded with
saleratus, by the looks of him. East o' him--see how pretty they
string out all along--with the humpy shoulders, is Long Jack. He's a
Galway man inhabitin' South Boston, where they all live mostly,
an' mostly them Galway men are good in a boat. North, away
yonder--you'll hear him tune up in a minute is Tom Platt. Man-o'-war's
man he was on the old Ohio first of our navy, he says, to
go araound the Horn. He never talks of much else, 'cept when he
sings, but he has fair fishin' luck. There! What did I tell you?"
A melodious bellow stole across the water from the northern dory.
Harvey heard something about somebody's hands and feet being
cold, and then:
"Bring forth the chart, the doleful chart,
See where them mountings meet!
The clouds are thick around their heads,
The mists around their feet."
"Full boat," said Dan, with a chuckle. "If he give us '0 Captain' it's
topping' too!"
The bellow continued:
"And naow to thee, 0 Capting,
Most earnestly I pray,
That they shall never bury me
In church or cloister gray."
"Double game for Tom Platt. He'll tell you all about the old Ohio
tomorrow. 'See that blue dory behind him? He's my uncle,--Dad's
own brother,--an' ef there's any bad luck loose on the Banks
she'll fetch up agin Uncle Salters, sure. Look how tender he's
rowin'. I'll lay my wage and share he's the only man stung up to-day
--an' he's stung up good."
"What'll sting him?" said Harvey, getting interested.
"Strawberries, mostly. Pumpkins, sometimes, an' sometimes lemons
an' cucumbers. Yes, he's stung up from his elbows down. That man's
luck's perfectly paralyzin'. Naow we'll take a-holt o' the tackles
an' hist 'em in. Is it true what you told me jest now, that you
never done a hand's turn o' work in all your born life? Must feel
kinder awful, don't it?"
"I'm going to try to work, anyway," Harvey replied stoutly. "Only
it's all dead new."
"Lay a-holt o' that tackle, then. Behind ye!"
Harvey grabbed at a rope and long iron hook dangling from one of
the stays of the mainmast, while Dan pulled down another that ran
from something he called a "topping-lift," as Manuel drew
alongside in his loaded dory. The Portuguese smiled a brilliant
smile that Harvey learned to know well later, and with a
short-handled fork began to throw fish into the pen on deck.
"Two hundred and thirty-one," he shouted.
"Give him the hook," said Dan, and Harvey ran it into Manuel's
hands. He slipped it through a loop of rope at the dory's bow,
caught Dan's tackle, hooked it to the stern-becket, and clambered
into the schooner.
"Pull!" shouted Dan, and Harvey pulled, astonished to find how
easily the dory rose.
"Hold on, she don't nest in the crosstrees!" Dan laughed; and
Harvey held on, for the boat lay in the air above his head.
"Lower away," Dan shouted, and as Harvey lowered, Dan swayed
the light boat with one hand till it landed softly just behind the
mainmast. "They don't weigh nothin' empty. Thet was right smart
fer a passenger. There's more trick to it in a sea-way."
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|