Miles Wallingford: Sequel to "Afloat and Ashore"Cooper, James Fenimore
General
Miles Wallingford: Sequel to "Afloat and Ashore"
Cooper, James Fenimore
Merchant mariners -- Fiction; Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Fiction
"Stop, sir, if you please," interrupted Colonel Warbler writing with
rapidity and zeal, "and thus caused the ruin of an industrious and honest
man; ay, that ends a period beautifully--well, sir, proceed."
"But, I have no personal ill treatment to complain of; and, the act of the
French was of precisely the same character; perhaps, worse, as I had got
rid of the English prize-crew, when the Frenchman captured us in his turn,
and prevented our obtaining shelter and a new crew in France." Colonel
Warbler listened with cold indifference. Not a line would he write against
the French, belonging to a very extensive school of disseminators of news
who fancy it is a part of their high vocation to tell just as much, or
just as little, of any transaction, as may happen to suit their own
purposes. I pressed the injuries I had received from the French, on my
visitor, so much the more warmly, on account of the reluctance he
manifested to publish it; but all to no purpose. Next morning the
Republican Freeman contained just such an account of the affair as
comported with the consistency of that independent and manly journal; not
a word being said about the French privateer, while the account of the
proceedings of the English frigate was embellished with sundry facts and
epithets that must have been obtained from Colonel Warbler's general stock
in trade, as it was certainly not derived from me.
As soon as I got rid of this gentleman, which was not long after he
discovered my desire to press the delinquency of the French on his notice,
Marble and I left the house, on the original design of strolling up
Broadway, and of looking at the changes produced by time. We had actually
got a square, when I felt some one touch my elbow; turning, I found it was
an utter stranger with a very eager, wonder-mongering sort of a
countenance, and who was a good deal out of breath with running.
"Your pardon, sir; the bar-tender of the house where you lodge, tells me
you are Captain Wallingford." I bowed an assent, foreseeing another
application for _facts_.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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