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
Those who see our ships only as they lie along side of the busy wharves,
and are either discharging or receiving their freight, have but a poor
idea of the neatness which the deck of a well-regulated vessel presents
in her usual sailing trim. It may be that our Captain was peculiar about
this matter, but every thing was so snugly stowed away, and securely
fastened, that to all appearance nothing would be displaced, should some
sudden freak of old ocean roll her bottom upwards. Her deck was flush
from stem to stern, and the gangway on each side was clean and clear;
every hand on deck was actively employed in the performance of some
duty, but it could be seen that they were intent upon some object more
engrossing than that in which their hands were busied, for wistful
glances were cast towards their young commander, who was standing near
the helm, and, with marks of anxiety on his countenance, eyeing through
a glass a distant speck upon the ocean.
'Mr. Barnum, this breeze is not going to last; it's a dead calm already
a mile to starboard. Hail the maintop; that fellow must be asleep.'
The chief mate--for it was he who was thus addressed--placing his two
brawny hands so as to form a speaking trumpet, raised his face aloft,
and sent up a blast that would have aroused no common slumberer.
'Hallo, maintop!'
'Ay, ay, sir.'
'What do you make her?'
'Can't make her at all.'
At this reply, the mate sprang into the shrouds with the agility of a
squirrel, and was soon far up amid the complicated rigging, and seizing
the glass from the one who had been using it, made a satisfactory
examination, and then tumbling down as rapidly as he had ascended, was
again beside his Captain.
'It is difficult making her out, for she has got her three masts in one;
but she looms large, and from the rig should judge she's a bull-dog,
with at least two rows of teeth.'
'Ship, ahoy!' from aloft.
'What quarter?'
'On the larboard beam, and coming down with a spanking breeze.'
'Ship, ahoy!!'
'Ay, ay, we see her; there's no mistake now, Captain Oakum; we are in
the midst of them.'
'Call the crew aft, Mr. Barnum.'
Soon every sailor on board was standing near the quarter-deck, and, with
respectful bearing, ready to hear the will of their Captain. He
immediately stepped up before them, and casting his eye over their hardy
and cheerful countenances, explained in a few brief sentences the
peculiarity of their situation, and what he should require of them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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