Australia -- Fiction; Family life -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction; Mothers -- Fiction
"It is a waste of happiness to sleep," I sighed ecstatically. "I want to
lie awake to revel in it."
"If I see you lying awake an hour hence," he rejoined, pretending to be
stern, while his voice was so full of tenderness that he could scarcely
control it, "I shall send you back to your cabin, Polly."
So I did not let him see it. But for several hours, when he was not
looking, I watched his dear figure moving to and fro, and the sea, and
the stars, with the smoke from the funnel trailing over them, and
revelled in full consciousness of my utter bliss.
Even now--after all these years--I get a sort of lump in my throat when
I think of it.
CHAPTER III.
A PAGE OF LIFE.
Does love fly out of the window when poverty walks in at the door? No,
no--of course not! Only when love is an imitation love, selfish and
cowardly, as true love can never be. I am sure ours stayed with us
always, no matter how cramped and starved. We never felt a regret for
having married each other, even when the practical consequences were
most unpleasant--never, never, not for a single instant. And yet--and
yet--well, it is all over now. One need not make one's self gratuitously
uncomfortable by reviving memories of hardships long gone by, and never
likely to be repeated.
Another thing. _Is_ it fair that a sea-captain should have such
miserable wage for such magnificent work? He has no play-hours, like
other working men, no nights' rest, no evenings at home, no Saturday
holidays--no Sundays even--and no comfort of his wife and family. He is
exposed to weather that you would not turn a dog into, and to fatigue
only measured by the extent of human endurance; and accepts both without
a thought of protest. He has the most awful responsibilities continually
on his mind, as to which he is more inflexibly conscientious than any
landsman living; and he is broken and ruined if an accident happens that
he is but technically to blame for and did his utmost to prevent. Yet
all he gets in return is a paltry twenty pounds a month! At least, that
is what Tom got--with an English certificate and a record without a
flaw. It is because sailors are not money-grubbers, as landsmen are,
that the money-grubbers take advantage of them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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