Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England Owen Hartley; or, Ups and Downs, A Tale of Land and Sea, by William H G Kingston. ________________________________________________________________________ Owen is a teenager who had been quite well educated, but who had just been orphaned. There is a family relation who has a shipping business in Wapping, London. A kind friend escorts the boy there, and he is granted an interview with the head of the firm, his relation. He is able to prove to the old man that he is indeed his relation, and is given a job as an assistant clerk. He does his work very well, and it is decided that he ought to be sent on a round trip away by sea, so that he shall understand more of the business. Unfortunately the kind and helpful captain is taken ill, and his place is taken by the mate, who is a very nasty piece of work. Owen is supposed to be an honoured passenger, but is ordered to give up his cabin, and take a berth among the ship's boys. One of the boys, Nat, is an especial target for the general nastiness of the mate, now the captain. Owen had previously rescued Nat when he had fallen overboard, and they had become great friends. The stupid and drunken mate, now acting as the captain, insists one day that his sunsight is correct, while everybody else's is wrong, and insists on the ship holding her course, which the other officers knew would lead her into danger. Of course there is a wreck. But maybe we have now told you enough, so you can read it for yourselves, or listen to it. ________________________________________________________________________ OWEN HARTLEY; OR, UPS AND DOWNS, A TALE OF LAND AND SEA, BY WILLIAM H G KINGSTON. CHAPTER ONE. "Well, boy, what do you want?" These words were uttered in a no pleasant tone by an old gentleman with a brownish complexion, a yellowish brown scratch wig, somewhat awry, a decidedly brown coat, breeches, and waistcoat, a neckcloth, once white, but now partaking of the sombre hue of his other garments; brown stockings and brownish shoes, ornamented by a pair of silver buckles, the last-mentioned articles being the only part of his costume on which the eye could rest with satisfaction. On his lap was placed a pocket handkerchief, of a nondescript tint, brown, predominating, in consequence of its frequent application to a longish nose, made the recipient of huge quantities of snuff. Altogether there was a dry, withered-leaf-like look about the old man which was not prepossessing. His little grey eyes were sunk deeply in his head, his sight being aided by a large pair of tortoiseshell spectacles, which he had now shoved up over his forehead.