How well do I
remember the old fellow's appearance!--his neat white frock and trowsers,
his low-quarter purser's shoes, with a bit of a ribbon for a bow; no
socks, save the natural, flesh-tinted ones, a blue star, done in India
ink, gleaming on his instep; his broad blue collar, decorated with stars
and two rows of white tape, falling gracefully from a neck which, as we
youngsters asserted, had received its odd-looking twist from hanging too
long by a grape vine, with which the Isle of Pines' pirates had strung him
up when he was chasing them under old Commodore Kearney's command. Anyhow,
old, sharp-faced, wrinkled and tanned to the color of a sole-leather
trunk, the whole cut of his jib told you at once that he was a regular
man-of-war's man--one of a class whose faults I can hardly recall while
remembering their sense of duty, their utter disregard of danger, and the
reliance with which you can lead them on to attack anything, from a
hornet's nest to an iron-clad.
"Well, it so happened, one hot day, while cruising in the Gulf of Mexico,
that the news came to us that old Sadler was dead; and sure enough it was
so, for the old fellow had quietly slipped his moorings, and, as we all
hoped, had at last gone to where the sweet little cherub sits up aloft who
looks out for the soul of poor Jack.
Pages:
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378