Dana, Richard Henry, 1815-1882; Sailors; Seafaring life; Voyages and travels
Thursday, February 25th. Set sail for Santa Barbara, where we
arrived on Sunday, the 28th. We just missed seeing the California,
for she had sailed three days before, bound to Monterey, to enter
her cargo and procure her license, and thence to San Francisco,
&c. Captain Arthur left files of Boston papers for Captain
Thompson, which, after they had been read and talked over in the
cabin, I procured from my friend the third mate. One file was of
all the Boston Transcripts for the month of August, 1835, and the
rest were about a dozen Daily Advertisers and Couriers of
different dates. After all, there is nothing in a strange land
like a newspaper from home. Even a letter, in many respects, is
nothing in comparison with it. It carries you back to the spot
better than anything else. It is almost equal to clairvoyance. The
names of the streets, with the things advertised, are almost as
good as seeing the signs; and while reading ``Boy lost!'' one can
almost hear the bell and well-known voice of ``Old Wilson,''
crying the boy as ``strayed, stolen, or mislaid!'' Then there was
the Commencement at Cambridge, and the full account of the
exercises at the graduating of my own class. A list of all those
familiar names (beginning as usual with Abbot, and ending with W),
which, as I read them over, one by one, brought up their faces and
characters as I had known them in the various scenes of college
life. Then I imagined them upon the stage, speaking their
orations, dissertations, colloquies, &c., with the familiar
gestures and tones of each, and tried to fancy the manner in which
each would handle his subject. ----, handsome, showy, and
superficial; ----, with his strong head, clear brain, cool
self-possession; ----, modest, sensitive, and underrated; ----, the
mouth-piece of the debating clubs, noisy, vaporous, and
democratic; and, so, following. Then I could see them receiving
their A.B.'s from the dignified, feudal-looking President, with
his ``auctoritate mihi commissâ,'' and walking off the stage with
their diplomas in their hands; while upon the same day their
classmate was walking up and down California beach with a hide
upon his head.
Every watch below, for a week, I pored over these papers, until I
was sure there could be nothing in them that had escaped my
attention, and was ashamed to keep them any longer.
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