Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 1, January 1847Various
General
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 1, January 1847
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
The reader will readily enough comprehend that the Molly Swash was not
absolutely standing still while the dialogue related was going on, and
the thoughts we have recorded were passing through her master’s mind. On
the contrary, she was not only in motion, but that motion was gradually
increasing, and by the time all was said that has been related, it had
become necessary for those who spoke to raise their voices to an
inconvenient pitch in order to be heard. This circumstance alone would
soon have put an end to the conversation, had not Spike’s pausing to
reflect brought about the same result, as mentioned.
In the mean time, Mulford had got the canvas spread. Forward, the Swash
showed all the cloth of a full-rigged brig, even to royals and flying
gib; while aft, her masts was the raking, tall, naked pole of an
American schooner. There was a taut top-mast, too, to which a
gaff-topsail was set, and the gear proved that she could also show, at
need, a staysail in this part of her, if necessary. As the Gate was
before them, however, the people had set none but the plain, manageable
canvas.
The Molly Swash kept close on a wind, luffing athwart the broad reach
she was in, until far enough to weather Blackwell’s, when she edged off
to her course, and went through the southern passage. Although the wind
remained light, and a little baffling, the brig was so easily impelled,
and was so very handy, that there was no difficulty in keeping her
perfectly in command. The tide, too, was fast increasing in strength and
velocity, and the movement from this cause alone was getting to be
sufficiently rapid.
As for the passengers, of whom we have lost sight in order to get the
brig under way, they were now on deck again. At first, they had all gone
below, under the care of Josh, a somewhat rough groom of the chambers,
to take possession of their apartment, a sufficiently neat, and
exceedingly comfortable cabin, supplied with every thing that could be
wanted at sea, and, what was more, lined on two of its sides with
state-rooms. It is true, all these apartments were small, and the
state-rooms were very low, but no fault could be found with their
neatness and general arrangements, when it was recollected that one was
on board a vessel.
“Here ebbery t’ing heart can wish,” said Josh, exultingly, who, being an
old-school black, did not disdain to use some of the old-school dialect
of his caste. “Yes, ladies, ebbery t’ing. Let Capt. Spike alone for dat!
He won’erful at accommodation! Not a bed-bug aft—know better dan come
here; jest like de people, in dat respects, and keep deir place forrard.
You nebber see a pig come on the quarter-deck, nudder.”
“You must maintain excellent discipline, Josh,” cried Rose, in one of
the sweetest voices in the world, which was easily attuned to
merriment—“and we are delighted to learn what you tell us. How do you
manage to keep up these distinctions, and make such creatures know their
places so well?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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