Prentice Mulford's story: life by land and seaMulford, Prentice
History
Prentice Mulford's story: life by land and sea
Mulford, Prentice
California -- Biography; California -- Description and travel; California -- Gold discoveries; Mulford, Prentice, 1834-1891
all allowed our souls to drift away in “The Last Rose of Summer,” the
Grinder in the midst of the beautiful strain brought us plump to earth
by turning out the remark that “a bewgle made abeout as nice music as
any instrument goin’, ef it was well played.” Had he been thrown
overboard he would have drifted ashore, and bored the natives to death
with a long and lifeless story of his escape from drowning.
Dames Rumor and Gossip are at home on the high seas. They commence
operations as soon as their stomachs are on sea-legs. Everybody then
undergoes an inspection from everybody else, and we report to each
other. Mrs. Bluster! Mrs. Bluster’s conduct is perfectly scandalous
before we have been out a week: she nibbling around young men of
one-half--ay, one-fourth--her age! The young miss who came on board in
charge of an elderly couple has seceded from them; promenades the
hurricane-deck very late with a dashing young Californian; but then
birds of a feather, male and female, will flock together. Mr. Bleareye
is full of brandy every morning before ten o’clock; and the “catamaran”
with the thin-legged and subjected husband does nothing but talk of her
home in ----. We know the color and pattern of her carpets, the number
of her servants, the quality of her plate, and yesterday she brought out
her jewelry and made thereof a public exhibition in the saloon. All this
is faithfully and promptly borne per rail over the Isthmus, and goes
over to the Atlantic steamer. I am conscientious in this matter of
gossip: I had made resolutions. There was a lady likewise conscientious
on board, and one night upon the quarter-deck, when we had talked
propriety threadbare, when we were both bursting with our fill of
observation, we met each other halfway and confessed that unless we
indulged ourselves also in a little scandal we should die, and then, the
flood-gates being opened, how we riddled them! But there is a difference
between criticism of character and downright scandal, you know; in that
way did we poultice our bruised consciences.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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