Golden Days for Boys and Girls Part 8

He was not a boy who was afraid of work, and now, putting on his everyday rig, he applied himself with a light heart to the duties of the ship, lying stoutly back upon the slack of the tackle, while the sailors hoisted the heavy articles of the cargo, or running aloft to loose the sails for drying after the drenching night dews, and a.s.sisting to furl them at evening.

"That boy is smart," old Jack Evans would say to his shipmates. "He is the best fellow for a captain's son I ever fell in with; he is always looking for something to do."

CHAPTER XVI.

OLD JACK SEES A REMEMBERED FACE.

One evening, when Ralph went into the forecastle, he found Jack alone there. The old sailor had just been overhauling his sea-chest, and had in his hand the baby's shoe which he had so long carried for good luck.

"I was just looking at it," he said, "because to-day I came across the father of that identical baby. I hadn't seen him for about sixteen years, but I knew him in a minute. He was puffing his cigar, just as he used to do about the decks of the Moro Castle."

"What!" exclaimed Ralph, "the very man? Oh, how I wish I had been with you! Who is he, and where does he live?"

"That I don't know," replied Jack. "Of course, he didn't know me, and I hadn't a very good chance to introduce myself. He was jabbering with a lot of other Spaniards on a corner, with his _caramba_ and his _como esta usted_, so that I didn't feel like going up to him with a yarn about a baby's shoe. Which way he went I don't know, for I had to get back to the ship."

"When was it?" asked Ralph, with great earnestness.

"It was while I was ash.o.r.e this noon."

"Why didn't you tell me?" said the boy. "I would have gone right ash.o.r.e.

But, no--I couldn't have found him without you. Dear me! I wish I could have been with you."

"Why, my lad, it's of no consequence," said Jack. "You seem to think more of it than I do."

"But I want to see him," replied Ralph. "I wonder if he is about here every day?"

"Likely enough," said Jack. "But I didn't think you cared anything about the matter."

"Well, I'm thinking of that baby's shoe," answered Ralph. "It seems so queer--the way you got it, and the way you have kept it."

"I know that's odd," said Jack. "I suppose my keeping it is all nonsense."

"No, it isn't," said Ralph. "I don't think it is, I'm sure."

"You believe a little in old shoes, then?"

"I believe in _that_ shoe, Jack. I mean to go ash.o.r.e with you, and have a good look for that man."

"But we shouldn't stand much chance of finding him," replied Jack. "I've been here in Santiago a number of times, but this is the first time I have run across him here."

Ralph looked anxious and excited; but he saw that Jack felt somewhat surprised at the interest he took in the matter, and so restrained himself.

"After all," he thought, "it may have nothing to do with _me_. Just a baby on its pa.s.sage to the United States. But, then, it was going to Philadelphia, and it was a boy baby; and I must have been a baby at the same time. I wonder what Jack would say if he knew what I am thinking of?"

It would be strange, he thought, if he were really to get track of himself in such a way--the first of the tracks being made by that tiny shoe in Jack's chest. And then he reflected how improbable it seemed, when there were so many babies in the world, that he should have been _that_ baby.

"I almost hope the thing will never come to light," he said to himself.

"Perhaps it is better not to know."

[TO BE CONTINUED.]

IN A MENAGERIE.

There is a distinct individuality among tigers, as among ourselves, some being gentle and tolerably tractable, while others are fierce, morose, and not to be trusted.

In Mr. G. Sanger's menagerie, at Margate, England, there are two tigresses which are of exactly opposite characters. Both go by the name of "Bessy," there being an extraordinary lack of originality in the nomenclature of animals.

The difference may be partly owing to the accident of birth, one having been captured while young, and the other born in a menagerie.

One might naturally imagine that the latter would be the better tempered of the two, she never having known the freedom of savage life. But, in accordance with the invariable rule, the "forest-bred" animal is the tamer, those which have been born in captivity being always uncertain in their ways, and not to be trusted.

Now, "Bessy the First" is forest bred. The head keeper, Walter Stratford, has the most perfect confidence in her, and can take any liberties with her.

After I had paid several visits to the menagerie, I thought that she began to recognize me, and therefore cultivated her acquaintance. Now, as soon as I enter the house, Bessy tries to attract my attention, expects to be patted and stroked, her ears to be pulled, and her nose rubbed, just as a pet cat would do.

One day I had an unexpected experience with her. Nearly the whole of the end of the room is occupied by a huge cage, in which Stratford delights in putting all sorts of incongruous animals.

There are several varieties of monkeys, a porcupine, a goat, some rabbits and guinea-pigs, a few geese and ducks, four cats, a coati-mondi, two racc.o.o.ns, a jackal, a little white Pomeranian dog named Rose, two pigs, and other animals.

Thinking that the goat would like some fresh gra.s.s, I went to the lawn, gathered a large handful, and brought it to the goat.

Not a blade of that gra.s.s did she get. I had hardly held the gra.s.s to the bars when Rose flew at it, drove the goat away, and literally tore the gra.s.s out of my hands. Three times did I fetch gra.s.s before the goat was allowed to eat a blade of it. Ever since that time I have always furnished myself with a good supply of gra.s.s before visiting these animals.

On one occasion I stopped as usual at Bessie's cage, and noticed that she stared fixedly at the gra.s.s. So I said, jokingly:

"Why, Bessy, you cannot want gra.s.s. However, here it is if you want it."

So I put my hand into the cage, and was much surprised by seeing her gently sc.r.a.pe the gra.s.s out of my hand with her huge paw. Then she lay down, gathered the gra.s.s between her paws, and licked up every particle of it.

When she had finished it, she looked appealingly in my face as if asking for another supply; so I brought a fresh handful, the whole of which she took in the same dainty way.

Meanwhile Rose was performing the most extraordinary antics at the end of the room. She had seen me bring in the gra.s.s, and naturally imagined that it was intended for her. What with disappointment, and what with jealousy, she was simply frantic, barking, yelping, jumping up and down, scratching at the bars of the cage, and expressing her outraged feelings in the most ludicrous fashion. Now I always give Bessy her allowance of gra.s.s first, and then take another portion to Rose and the goat.

It is a rather remarkable fact that the carnivora are much more eager for the gra.s.s than are the deer, camels, antelopes and other vegetable feeders.

As to "Bessy the First," she is so fond of Stratford, and places such reliance on him, that when she has cubs she will allow him to enter the cage, take away the cubs and hand them about among the visitors. In fact, she is quite pleased to see that her offspring attract so much attention.

Very different is "Bessy the second." She never had a very good temper, but was not considered to be a very dangerous animal, until an event occurred which completely altered, or, at all events, had an evil influence upon her character.

Nearly two years ago, three young lion cubs were in the next cage to hers. One day she seemed to be seized with a sudden frenzy, smashed the part.i.tion between the cages, flew at the cubs, and killed two of them in a moment.

The whole attack was so quick and unexpected that Stratford had only just time to save the life of the third cub. Since that time she has been carefully watched, for when once a lion or a tiger has broken through a cage it is apt to repeat the operation.

"Bessy the Second" is restless, morose and suspicious, and if any of the animals make a sudden movement, she starts up, stares at them through the bars, and often sets up a series of roars, which have the effect of causing every lion and tiger in the place to roar for sympathy, so that the noise is deafening.