The Mate of the Good Ship York; Or, The Ship's AdventureRussell, William Clark
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The Mate of the Good Ship York; Or, The Ship's Adventure
Russell, William Clark
English fiction -- 20th century; Sea stories
"This man is mad," thought Hardy. "He would never converse with me in
this fashion if his head wasn't in two."
The drum and fife ceased. Johnny, seeing his father, came running
aft, and the Newfoundland trotted by his side. It was four bells,
and the sun vanished as the metal chimes trembled away to sea; the
breeze slightly freshened on a sudden, a sound of foam arose like the
song of a full champagne glass held to the ear; delicate streaks of
white flashed about the ocean breast in the twilight like some milky
wings of sea birds; the ship strained a little aloft and hardened her
breasts, and stars of the east shone upon the dark brow of the soaring
night.
The breeze blew with a little edge, but it was still the dog-watches,
and the sailors, though abruptly deprived of the drum in which they
delighted, started on another dance to Dicky's merry and excellent
whistling.
"Father, Sailor likes dancing," said Johnny.
"All sailors like it," answered the captain, stooping to press his lips
to the child's forehead. "Cut below now, my darling, you and the drum,
and put it away and wait for me. I sha'n't be long, and then we'll go
to supper."
The boy, with the obedience of a man-of-war's man, saluted Hardy
with a flourish of his little fist to his golden curls, ran to the
companionway, and vanished, and the noble Newfoundland vanished with
him.
"There is no weather in the glass," said the captain. "If this breeze
freshens we shall make up for lost time. You'll not spare her, Mr.
Hardy."
"No, sir."
"Those are my orders to the second mate. I want to maintain the
reputation of this ship; the freighters love her. I have no fancy for
steam, but you can _time_ it, and so tacks and sheets are bound to go;
but I'll make a bold fight for old tradition," he cried in a curious
tone of enthusiasm, "and what we can't carry we'll drag."
The second mate had come on deck at four bells, and was pacing to
leeward in the deeper shade that dyed the atmosphere there when
the freshening of the breeze heeled the ship. There was nothing
particularly noticeable in this man, of whom a fair sight could be
caught as he passed through the area of light diffused by the cabin
lamp, which was burning in brilliance under the skylight. He was
pale-faced and fat of cheek, very light eyes, lashes like white silk,
yellow hair, and great ears which stood out in eager bearing as though
they sought to catch everything which was said. He was dressed in blue
serge and a cap, and this was his first voyage in the ship. So the
captain and the two mates were sailing the _York_ for the first time in
their lives.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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