The Game-Birds of the Coasts and Lakes of the Northern States of America: A full account of the sporting along our sea-shores and inland waters, with a comparison of the merits of breech-loaders and muzzle-loadersRoosevelt, Robert Barnwell
History
The Game-Birds of the Coasts and Lakes of the Northern States of America: A full account of the sporting along our sea-shores and inland waters, with a comparison of the merits of breech-loaders and muzzle-loaders
Roosevelt, Robert Barnwell
Game and game-birds -- North America; Hunting -- North America; Shotguns
“They are houses built by the Government and placed at regular distances
along the beach. The gun, and rope, and life-boat, and life-car, and all
other things that are needed in case of shipwreck, are kept in them.
Then there is a stove and coal ready to make a fire, for if a poor
wretch got ashore in mid-winter he would soon freeze if he couldn’t get
to a fire. And if the man who has charge of the station lives two miles
off across a bay that he can’t cross in a bad storm, what can the poor
half-drowned fellows do, if they are too much benumbed to break open the
door? I’d stave it in for them pretty quick if I was there, law or no
law.”
“It is a shame that a matter like that should not be free from
politics.”
“So it was once,” Bill went on fluently; for on this subject he felt
that his family had a right to be eloquent; “at one time some department
had it in charge that never would either appoint or remove a man on
political account; but that is all changed now, and the men are expected
to go out with every administration, and shipwrecked passengers die
while political favorites draw the two hundred dollars a year pay for
the station-master.”
“Now, Bill, stop your talk about the public wrongs, and tell us
something more interesting. Have you ever heard one of Bill’s ghost
stories?” This inquiry was addressed to the public.
Bill’s face lengthened; he sat silently nursing his leg and smoking his
brierwood pipe, while a shadow seemed to settle on his countenance.
“Come, Bill,” we responded, “let’s have the story.”
Bill answered not, and the shadow deepened, and the smoke was puffed in
heavier masses from his lips.
“Bill is afraid; he don’t like ghosts, and don’t dare to talk of them.”
“I am not easily skeered,” he answered at last; “but if you had seen
what I have on this shore, you would not talk so easy about it. ‘Lige,
do you remember the time we saw that ship? There had been a heavy storm,
and when we got up next day early, there lay a vessel on the beach; she
must have been most everlastingly a harpin’ it.”
“What is that?” was asked wonderingly, on the utterance of this peculiar
expression.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account