The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat; Or, The Rivals of the Mississippi — John Shaqi
The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat; Or, The Rivals of the MississippiAllen, Quincy
General
The Outdoor Chums on a Houseboat; Or, The Rivals of the Mississippi
Allen, Quincy
Houseboats -- Juvenile fiction; Mississippi River -- Juvenile fiction
Frank could see the time coming when he might not have such willing
hands; and when the task of pushing that sweep would bring out many a
grunt and groan from Bluff and Jerry. But everything was new now, and
they actually thought it fun to throw their sturdy young shoulders
against the long handle, and bending to the job, urge the boat sideways
through the swirling water.
“About when do we think of getting supper?” asked Jerry, after a little
time had elapsed, and they could no longer see signs of the city that
was situated on the eastern shore of the river.
“Listen to him; would you, Frank?” cried Bluff. “Always wanting to eat,
and cut down our stock of rations. Why, it isn’t more’n four o’clock
yet, and at this time of year it won’t get dark till near eight.”
“Four hours more!” called out the indignant Jerry; “do you mean we don’t
get any of that good grub till then? I just won’t stand for it, that’s
what! And I give you fair warning right now, that at five, sharp, I
start the fire a-going in that stove. I’m going to get the first meal
aboard, because Frank said I might; so don’t either one of you open your
mouths to say a word.”
“Oh! all right,” returned Bluff; who had really been managing matters so
as to coax Jerry to undertake this part of the drudgery; when he would
praise up his cooking in such a way that the other could hardly wait for
another meal-time to roll around; “we know there isn’t a fellow aboard
who can hold a candle to you when it comes to slinging dishes together;
that is, if you haven’t forgotten, since going to college, all you ever
knew in the old days.”
“Me forgot how to cook?” ejaculated Jerry, warmly, and falling into the
neat little trap in a way that made Frank turn to Will, and wink his eye
several times. “Why, I tell you I’m a better hand at it than ever I was.
After you’ve tasted my supper just you tell me the honest truth; that’s
all.”
“I will, Jerry,” said Bluff, keeping a straight face, though Frank knew
he was chuckling with delight over the success of his little dodge, “and
you can depend on it I’ll never try to deceive you. If you can beat the
meals you used to dish up in the old times, sure you must be a wonder.”
“There’s smoke around that bend there, Frank; what do you suppose makes
it?” Will asked at this interesting moment.
“I suppose some steamboat is coming up the river,” replied Frank.
“That’s right,” added Bluff, who had very good ears. “The breeze is dead
against us, but I can hear the whoof of her escape steampipes as she
butts up against the stiff current. I reckon we’ll all get used to that
grunting sound before we wind up this trip.”
“I hope she gives us plenty of room,” continued Will, a little
nervously, as he planted himself where he thought he could get the best
view of the oncoming river boat, so that he could snap a picture of the
very first craft they met after starting on their long voyage.
Bluff, being more daring by nature, started to laugh at what Will said.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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