The House Boat Boys; Or, Drifting Down to the Sunny SouthRathborne, St. George
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The House Boat Boys; Or, Drifting Down to the Sunny South
Rathborne, St. George
Boats and boating -- Juvenile fiction; Houseboats -- Juvenile fiction; Mississippi River -- Juvenile fiction
Produced by Robert Rowe, Charles Franks
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
THE HOUSE BOAT BOYS
OR DRIFTING DOWN TO THE SUNNY SOUTH
BY ST. GEORGE RATHBORNE
Author of "CANOE MATES IN CANADA", "CHUMS IN DIXIE" "THE YOUNG FUR
TAKERS", Etc.
THE HOUSE BOAT BOYS; OR A VOYAGE TO THE GULF.
CHAPTER I.
WHAT A LETTER FROM A TRAMP STEAMER DID.
"I say, what's gone wrong now, Maurice, old fel?"
The speaker, a roughly clad boy of about fifteen or over, caught
hold of his companion's sleeve and looked sympathetically in his
face.
The lad whom he called Maurice was better dressed, and he seemed
to carry with him a certain air of refinement that was lacking in
his friend, who was of a rougher nature. Despite this difference
he and Thad Tucker were the closest of chums, sharing each other's
joys and disappointments, small though they might be.
They had met just now at the post-office of a little country town
not many miles below Evansville, Indiana, as the afternoon mail
was being sorted.
The yellow flood of the great Ohio River could be seen from where
they stood, glowing in the early November sunshine.
Upon being greeted with these words Maurice Pemberton shook his
head dolefully.
"It's come, just as I've been half expecting it these four months,
Thad. The old couple I live with have sold their house and leave
for Chicago in a week. That turns me out into the Streets, for you
know they've given me a home ever since mother, who was a friend
of Mrs. Jasper, died; and in return I've tried to make good by
doing all their gardening and other work between school hours. Now
a son has sent for them to come and make their home with him.
Pretty tough on a fellow not to know where he's going to sleep
after a single week."
But Thad was smiling now, as though an idea had flashed into his
head that gave him reason for something akin to pleasure.
"Well, I don't know; if it comes to the worst, Pard Maurice,
you're a dozen times welcome to share my old bunky on the shanty-
boat. I'd just love to make another cot like mine, and have you
there. Say, wouldn't it be grand? Of course, though, you'd find it
a pretty poor contraption alongside the house you've lived in; but
if it was a thousand dollar launch still you'd be just as welcome,
and you know it," he said with a heartiness that could not be
misunderstood.
The other looked at him affectionately, and was about to say
something in return when the window of the post-office was thrown
open as a signal that the mail had been distributed. So Maurice
stepped up to secure the usual papers, together with an occasional
letter, that came for the Jaspers.
Thad saw him start and look curiously at one letter, and then
begin to tear the end off as though it were meant for him.
Watching curiously, all unaware how history was making at that
identical moment for himself and Maurice, he saw the other smile
and nod his head, while an expression of delight gradually crept
over his face.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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