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Harper's Young People, June 8, 1880.
by Various.
THE MORAL PIRATES.
BY WM. L. ALDEN.
CHAPTER II.
When Uncle John announced that the Department was satisfied with the ability of the captain and crew to manage the _Whitewing_, the day for sailing was fixed, and the boys laid in their stores. Each one had a fishing-line and hooks, and Harry and Tom each took a fishing-pole--two poles being as many as were needed, since most of the fishing would probably be done with drop-lines. Uncle John lent Harry his double-barrelled gun, and a supply of ammunition. Each boy took a tin plate, a tin cup, knife, fork, and spoon. For cooking purposes, the boat carried a coffee-pot, two tin cake-pans, which could be used as frying-pans as well as for other purposes, and two small tin pails.
Harry's mother lent him several large round tin boxes, in which were stored four pounds of coffee, two pounds of sugar, a pound of Indian meal, a large quant.i.ty of crackers, some salt, and a little pepper. The rest of the provisions consisted of two cans of soup, two cans of corned beef, a can of roast beef, two small cans of devilled chicken, four cans of fresh peaches, a little package of condensed beef for making beef tea, and a cold boiled ham. The boat was furnished with an A tent, four rubber blankets and four woollen blankets, a hatchet, a quant.i.ty of spare cordage, a little bull's-eye lantern, which burnt olive-oil, and a few copper nails, a pair of pliers, a small piece of zinc, a little white lead, for mending a leak. Of course there was a bottle of oil for the lantern; and Mrs. Schuyler added a box of pills and a bottle of "Hamlin's Mixture" as medical stores. The boys wore blue flannel trousers and shirts, and each one carried an extra pair of trousers, and an extra shirt instead of a coat. These, with a few pairs of stockings and two or three handkerchiefs, were all the clothing that they needed, so Uncle John said; though the boys had imagined that they must take at least two complete suits. He showed them that two flannel shirts worn at the same time, one over the other, would be as warm as one shirt and a coat, and that if their clothing became wet, it could be easily dried.
"Flannel and the compa.s.s are the two things that are indispensable to navigation," said Uncle John. "If flannel shirts had not been invented, Columbus would never have crossed the Atlantic." Perhaps there was a little exaggeration in this; but when we remember that flannel is the only material that is warm in cold weather and cool in hot weather, and that dries almost as soon as it is wrung out and hung in the wind, it is difficult to see how sailors could do without it.
The boys agreed very readily to take with them only what Uncle John advised. Tom Schuyler, however, was very anxious to take a heavy iron vise, which, he said, could be screwed on the gunwale of the boat, and might prove to be very useful, although he could not say precisely what he expected to use it for. Joe Sharpe also wanted to take a base-ball and bat, but neither the vise nor the ball and bat were taken.
The _Whitewing_ started from the foot of East One-hundred-and-twenty-seventh Street on a Monday morning in the middle of July, at about nine o'clock. Quite a small crowd of friends were present to see the boys off, and the neat appearance of the boat and her crew attracted the attention of all the idlers along the sh.o.r.e. When all the cargo was stowed, and everything was ready, Uncle John called the boys aside, and said, "Now, boys, you must sign the articles."
"What are articles?" asked all the boys at once.
"They are certain regulations which every respectable pirate, or any other sailor, for that matter, must agree to keep when he joins a ship.
I'll read the articles, and if any of you don't like any one of them, say so frankly, for you must not begin a cruise in a dissatisfied state of mind. Here are the articles:
"'I. _We, the captain and crew of the_ Whitewing, _promise to decide all disputed questions by the vote of the majority, except questions concerning the management of the boat. The orders of the captain, in all matters connected with the management of the boat, shall be promptly obeyed by the crew_.'
"Now if anybody thinks that the captain should not have the full control of the boat, let him say so at once. Very likely the captain will make mistakes; but the boat will be safer, even if the crew obeys a wrong order, than it would be if every order should be debated by the crew.
You can't hold town-meetings when you are afloat. Harry, I think, understands pretty well how to sail the boat. Will you agree to obey his orders?"
All the boys said they would; and Joe Sharpe added that he thought the captain ought to have the right to put mutineers in irons.
"That, let us hope, will not be necessary," said Uncle John. "Now listen to the second article:
"'II. _We promise not to take corn, apples, or other property without permission of the owner._'
"You will very likely camp near some field where corn, or potatoes, or something eatable, is growing. Many people think there is no harm in taking a few ears of corn or half a dozen apples. I want you to remember that to take anything that is not your own, unless you have permission to do so, is stealing. It's an ugly word, but it can't be smoothed over in any way. Do you object to this article?"
n.o.body objected to it. "We're moral pirates, Uncle John," said Tom Schuyler, "and we won't disgrace the Department by stealing."
"I knew you would not except through thoughtlessness. Now these are all the articles. I did think of asking you not to quarrel, or to use bad language; but I don't believe it is necessary to ask you to make such a promise, and if it were, you probably would not keep it. So sign the articles, give them to the captain, and take your stations."
The articles were signed. The captain seated himself in the stern-sheets, and took the yoke lines. The rest took their proper places, and Joe Sharpe held the boat to the dock by the boat-hook. "Are you all ready?" cried Uncle John.
"All ready, sir!" answered Harry.
"Then give way with your oars! Good-by, boys, and don't forget to send reports to the Department."
The boat glided away from the sh.o.r.e with Tom and Jim each pulling a single oar. The group on the wharf gave the boys a farewell cheer, and in a few moments they were hid from sight by the Third Avenue Bridge.
The tide was against them, but the day was a cool one for the season, and the boys rowed steadily on in the very best of spirits. There was a light south wind, but as there were several bridges to pa.s.s, Harry thought it best not to set the sail before reaching the Hudson River. It required careful steering to avoid the steamboats, bridge piles, and small boats; but the _Whitewing_ was guided safely, and her signal--a red flag with a white cross--floated gayly at the bow.
Uncle John had made one serious mistake: he had forgotten all about the tide, and never thought of the difficulty the boys would find in pa.s.sing Farmers-bridge with the tide against them. They had pa.s.sed High Bridge, and had entered a part of the river with which the boys were not familiar, when Joe Sharpe suddenly called out, "There's a low bridge right ahead that we can't pa.s.s." A few more strokes of the oars enabled Harry to see a long low bridge, which completely blocked up the river except at one place, that seemed not much wider than the boat. Through this narrow channel the tide was rushing fiercely, the water heaping itself up in waves that looked unpleasantly high and rough. The boat was rowed as close as possible to the opening under the bridge; but the current was so strong that the boys could not row against it, and even if they had been able to stem it, the channel was too narrow to permit them to use the oars.
Harry ordered the boat to be rowed up to the bridge at a place where there was a quiet eddy, and all the crew went ash.o.r.e to contrive some way of overcoming the difficulty. Presently Harry thought of a plan. "If we could get the painter under the bridge, we could pull the boat through easy enough if there was n.o.body in her."
"That's all very well," said Joe, "but how are you going to get the painter through?"
"I know," cried Jim. "Let's take a long piece of rope and drop it in the water the other side of the bridge. The current will float it through, and we can catch it and tie it to the painter."
The plan seemed a good one; and so the boys took a piece of spare rope from the boat, tied a bit of board to one end of it for a float, dropped the float into the water, and held on to the other end of the rope. When the float came in sight below the bridge they caught it with the boat-hook, and throwing away the piece of board, tied the rope to the painter. "Now let Joe Sharpe get in the bow of the boat, to keep her from running against anything, and we'll haul her right through,"
exclaimed Harry.
Joe took his place in the bow, and pushing the boat off, let her float into the current. Then the three other boys pulled on the rope, and were delighted to see the boat glide under the bridge. Suddenly Joe gave a wild yell. "She's sinking, boys!" he cried: "let go the rope, or I'll be drowned!" The boys, terribly frightened, dropped the rope, and in another minute the boat floated back on the current, half full of water, and without Joe. Almost as soon as it came in sight, Harry had thrown off his shoes and jumped into the river.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
MR. MARTIN'S GAME.
BY JIMMY BROWN.
What if he is a great deal older than I am! that doesn't giv him any right to rumple my hair, does it? I'm willing to respect old age, of course, but I want my hair respected too.
But rumpling hair isn't enough for Mr. Martin; he must call me "Bub,"
and "Sonny." I might stand "Sonny," but I won't stand being called "Bub"
by any living man--not if I can help it. I've told him three or four times, "My name isn't 'Bub,' Mr. Martin. My name's Jim, or Jimmy," but he would just grin in an exhausperating kind of way, and keep on calling me "Bub."
My sister Sue doesn't like him any better than I do. He comes to see her about twice a week, and I've heard her say, "Goodness me, there's that tiresome old bachelor again." But she treats him just as polite as she does anybody; and when he brings her candy, she says, "Oh, Mr. Martin, you are _too_ good." There's a great deal of make-believe about girls, I think.
Now that I've mentioned candy, I will say that he might pa.s.s it around, but he never thinks of such a thing. Mr. Travers, who is the best of all Sue's beaux, always brings candy with him, and gives me a lot. Then he generally gives me a quarter to go to the post-office for him, because he forgot to go, and expects something very important. It takes an hour to go to the post-office and back, but I'd do anything for such a nice man.
One night--it was Mr. Travers's regular night--Mr. Martin came, and wasn't Sue mad! She knew Mr. Travers would come in about half an hour, and she always made it a rule to keep her young men separate.
She sent down word that she was busy, and would be down stairs after a while. Would Mr. Martin please sit down and wait. So he sat down on the front piazza and waited.
I was sitting on the gra.s.s, practicing mumble-te-peg a little, and by-and-by Mr. Martin says, "Well, Bub, what are you doing?"
"Playing a game," says I. "Want to learn it?"
"Well, I don't care if I do," says he. So he came out, and sat in the gra.s.s, and I showed him how to play.
Just then Mr. Travers arrived, and Sue came down, and was awfully glad to see both her friends. "But what in the world are you doing," she says to Mr. Martin. When she heard that he was learning the game, she said, "How interesting, do play one game."
Mr. Martin finally said he would. So we played a game, and I let him beat me very easy. He laughed fit to kill himself when I drew the peg, and said it was the best game he ever played.
"Is there any game you play any better than this, Sonny?" said he, in his most irragravating style.