Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 4, April 1847Various
History
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 4, April 1847
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
“Time does that for all of us, Capt. Spike,” returned Tier coolly. “I
_am_ not what I used to be, I’ll own, nor are you yourself for that
matter. When I saw you last, noble captain, you were a handsome man of
forty, and could go aloft with any youngster in the brig; but, now,
you’re heavy, and not over active.”
“I!—Not a bit of change has taken place in me for the last thirty
years. I defy any man to show the contrary. But that’s neither here nor
there; you are no young woman, Jack, that I need be boasting of my
health and beauty before you. I want a bit of real sarvice from you, and
want it done in old-time’s fashion; and I mean to pay for it in
old-time’s fashion, too.”
As Spike concluded, he put into Tier’s hand one of the doubloons that he
had received from Señor Montefalderon, in payment for the powder. The
doubloons, for which so much pumping and bailing were then in process,
were still beneath the waters of the gulf.
“Ay, ay, sir,” returned Jack, smiling and pocketing the gold, with a
wink of the eye, and a knowing look; “this does resemble old times
sum’at. I now begin to know Capt. Spike, my old commander again, and see
that he’s more like himself than I had just thought him. What am I to do
for this, sir; speak plain, that I may be sartain to steer the true
course?”
“Oh, just a trifle, Jack—nothing that will break up the ground tier of
your wits, my old shipmate. You see the state of the brig, and know that
she is in no condition for ladies.”
“’Twould have been better all round, sir, had they never come aboard at
all,” answered Jack, looking dark.
Spike was surprised, but he was too much bent on his projects to heed
trifles.
“You know what sort of flour they’re whipping out of the schooner, and
must understand that the brig will soon be in a pretty litter. I do not
intend to let them send a single barrel of it beneath my hatches again,
but the deck and the islands must take it all. Now I wish to relieve my
passengers from the confinement this will occasion, and I have ordered
the boatswain to pitch a tent for them on the largest of these here
Tortugas; and what I want of you, is to muster food and water, and other
woman’s knickknacks, and go ashore with them, and make them as
comfortable as you can for a few days, or until we can get this schooner
loaded and off.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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