I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of Success — John Shaqi
I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of SuccessRoe, A. S. (Azel Stevens)
General
I've Been Thinking; or, the Secret of Success
Roe, A. S. (Azel Stevens)
Conduct of life -- Fiction; Diligence -- Fiction; Success -- Fiction
Sam's guessing turned out to be very correct; it required but little
effort to make the point; and as they turned their course in the
opposite direction to that in which they had been steering, and were no
longer sheltered by the island which formed their beautiful harbor, but
were fairly in the outer bay, across whose waters they could see the
haze of the ocean and the white beacon that lighted its weary voyagers
to their desired haven, the wind blew gently, and Sam lost no time in
taking advantage of it; there was just enough to carry them along
against the tide, which was no longer in their favor.
The fort to which our little voyagers were steering had been erected
about ten years. It was intended to command the channel through which
vessels of ordinary size must pass, in their way from the ocean to one
of our most valuable cities. It was built with two tiers of ports, and
of sufficient strength for heavy guns; and as our foreign relations were
in an unsettled state, it had, at the period under consideration, its
full complement of men. It was erected at some distance from the shore
on a ledge of rocks which, at low water, formed a passage to the main
land; but when the tide was in, a few only of the highest rocks could be
seen.
The nearer they approached the place of their destination, the more
serious did the matter appear to them.
'Do you think, Sam, there is danger they won't let us in?'
'I don't know; I hope not, Jim. It would be too bad, after all our
trouble, not to get even a chance to sell any thing.'
'Well, Sam, we can but try, you know. We have only to tell them what
we've come for;--but I _say_, Sam, it makes my heart beat to look at it:
what high walls it has; and see, there are the sentinels walking up and
down--how their guns glitter in the sunshine!'
'Halloo! halloo! where are you bound, my hearties?'
The boys were startled by the gruff tones in which they had been
accosted; and, turning their eyes toward the shore from whence the
sounds seemed to come, saw an elderly man dressed in a sailor's habit,
seated on a rock, and beckoning to them, or rather, by a motion,
endeavouring to stop their progress.
'Halloo! my boys; don't go ahead there, or you'll be foul of the rocks.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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