Adventure stories; Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
He must be a famous man who would be remembered after forty years'
absence; and I, scarce a boy at going forth, returned to find myself
quite forgotten. Even my parents were scarce remembered. Both had died
before I went away from home, and while I was only a mere lad. Besides,
my father, who was a mariner by profession, was seldom or never at home,
and I remember little else about him, than how I grieved when the news
came that his ship was lost, and he with most of his crew were drowned.
Alas! my mother did not long survive him; and their death occurring such
a long time ago, it is but natural that both should be forgotten among a
people with whom they had but slight intercourse. Thus, then, is it
explained how I chance to be such a stranger in my native place.
But you are not to suppose that I am lonely or without companions.
Though I have ceased to follow my profession of the sea, and returned
home to spend the remainder of my days in a quiet, peaceful way, I am by
no means of an unsocial disposition or morose habits. On the contrary,
I am fond, as I have ever been, of social intercourse; and old man
though I be, I take great delight in the society of young people,
especially little boys. I can boast, too, that with all these in the
village I am a favourite. I spend hours upon hours in helping them to
fly their kites, and sail their tiny boats; for I remember how much
delight I derived from these pastimes when I was myself a boy.
As I take part in their sports, little do the simple children think that
the gentle old man who can so amuse them and himself, has spent most of
his life amidst scenes of wild adventure and deadly peril; and yet such
has been my history.
There are those in the village, however, who are better acquainted with
some chapters from the story of my life--passages of it which they have
heard from my own lips, for I am never disinclined _to relate to_ those
who may be worthy of hearing it any interesting adventure through which
I may have passed; and even in our quiet village I have found an
audience that merits the narrator. Schoolboys have been my listeners;
for there is a famous school near the village--an "establishment for
young gentlemen" it is styled--and it is from this I draw my most
attentive auditory.
These boys and I used to meet in our rambles along the shore, and
observing my weather-beaten, salt-water look, they fancied that I could
tell them tales of wild scenes and strange incidents that I had
encountered far over the sea. Our meetings were frequent--almost
daily--and soon a friendly acquaintance sprung up between us; until, at
their solicitation, I began to relate to them an occasional adventure of
my life. Often I may have been observed, seated upon the "bent" grass
of the beach, encircled by a crowd of these well-dressed youths, whose
parted lips and eager eyes betokened the interest they felt in my
narrations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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