The Christmas Wreck by Frank Stockton Well, sir, said old Silas, as he gave a preliminary puff to the pipe he had just lighted, and so satisfied himself that the draught was all right, the winds a-comin, an sos Christmas. But its no use bein in a hurry fur either of em, fur sometimes they come afore you want em, anyway. Silas was sitting in the stern of a small sailing-boat which he owned, and in which he sometimes took the Sandport visitors out for a sail, and at other times applied to its more legitimate but less profitable use, that of fishing. That afternoon he had taken young Mr. Nugent for a brief excursion on that portion of the Atlantic Ocean which sends its breakers up on the beach of Sandport. But he had found it difficult, nay, impossible, just now, to bring him back, for the wind had gradually died away until there was not a breath of it left. Mr. Nugent, to whom nautical experiences were as new as the very nautical suit of blue flannel which he wore, rather liked the calm. It was such a relief to the monotony of rolling waves. He took out a cigar and lighted it, and then he remarked: I can easily imagine how a wind might come before you sailors might want it, but I dont see how Christmas could come too soon. It come wunst on me when things couldnt `a looked more onready fur it, said Silas. How was that? asked Mr. Nugent, settling himself a little more comfortably on the hard thwart. If its a story, lets have it. This is a good time to spin a yarn. Very well, said old Silas. Ill spin her. The bare-legged boy whose duty it was to stay forward and mind the jib came aft as soon as he smelt a story, and took a nautical position, which was duly studied by Mr. Nugent, on a bag of ballast in the bottom of the boat. Its nigh on to fifteen year ago, said Silas, that I was on the bark Mary Auguster, bound for Sydney, New South Wales, with a cargo of canned goods. We was somewhere about longitood a hundred an seventy, latitood nothin, an it was the twenty- second o December, when we was ketched by a reglar typhoon which blew straight along, end on, fur a day an a half. It blew away the storm-sails. It blew away every yard, spar, shroud, an every strand o riggin, an snapped the masts off close to the deck. It blew away all the boats. It blew away the cooks caboose, an everythin else on deck. It blew off the hatches, an sent em spinnin in the air about a mile to leeward. An afore it got through, it washed away the capn an all the crew cept me an two others. These was Tom Simmons, the second mate, an Andy Boyle, a chap from the Adirondack Mountins, whod never been to sea afore. As he was a landsman, he ought, by rights, to a been swep off by the wind an water, considrin that the capn an sixteen good seamen had gone aready. But he had hands eleven inches long, an that give him a grip which no typhoon could git the better of. Andy had let out that his father was a miller up there in York State, an a story had got round among the crew that his granfather an great-granfather was millers, too; an the way the famly got such big hands come from their habit of scoopin up a extry quart or two of meal or flour fur themselves when they was levellin off their customers measures. He was a good-natered feller, though, an never got riled when Id tell him to clap his flour-scoops onter a halyard. We was all soaked, an washed, an beat, an battered. We held on some way or other till the wind blowed itself out, an then we got on our legs an began to look about us to see how things stood. The sea had washed into the open hatches till the vessel was moren half full of water, an that had sunk her, so deep that she must a looked like a canal-boat loaded with gravel. We hadnt had a thing to eat or drink durin that whole blow, an we was pretty ravenous. We found a keg of water which was all right, and a box of biscuit which was what you might call softtack, fur they was soaked through an through with sea-water. We eat a lot of them so, fur we couldnt wait, an the rest we spread on the deck to dry, fur the sun was now shinin hot enough to bake bread. We couldnt go below much, fur there was a pretty good swell on the sea, an things was floatin about sos to make it dangerous. But we fished out a piece of canvas, which we rigged up agin the stump of the mainmast so that we could have somethin that we could sit down an grumble under. What struck us all the hardest was that the bark was loaded with a whole cargo of jolly things to eat, which was just as good as ever they was, fur the water couldnt git through the tin cans in which they was all put up, an here we was with nothin to live on but them salted biscuit. There wasnt no way of gittin at any of the ships stores, or any of the fancy prog, fur everythin was stowed away tight under six or seven feet of water, an pretty nigh all the room that was left between decks was filled up with extry spars, lumber, boxes, an other floatin stuff. All was shiftin, an bumpin, an bangin every time the vessel rolled. As I said afore, Tom was second mate, an I was bosn. Says I to Tom, `The thing weve got to do is to put up some kind of a spar with a rag on it fur a distress flag, so that well lose no time bein took off. `Theres no use a-slavin at anythin like that, says Tom, `fur weve been blowed off the track of traders, an the more we work the hungrier well git, an the sooner will them biscuit be gone. Now when I heared Tom say this I sot still an began to consider. Bein second mate, Tom was, by rights, in command of this craft. But it was easy enough to see that if he commanded thered never be nothin fur Andy an me to do. All the grit he had in him hed used up in holdin on durin that typhoon. What he wanted to do now was to make himself comfortable till the time come for him to go to Davy Joness locker--an thinkin, most likely, that Davy couldnt make it any hotter fur him than it was on that deck, still in latitood nothin at all, fur wed been blowed along the line pretty nigh due west. So I calls to Andy, who was busy turnin over the biscuits on the deck. `Andy, says I, when he had got under the canvas, `wes goin to have a lection fur skipper. Tom, here, is about played out. Hes one candydate, an Im another. Now, who do you vote fur? An mind yer eye, youngster, that you dont make no mistake. `I vote fur you says Andy. `Carried unanermous! says I. `An I want you to take notice that Im capn of whats left of the Mary Auguster, an you two has got to keep your minds on that, an obey orders. If Davy Jones was to do all that Tom Simmons said when he heared this, the old chap would be kept busier than he ever was yit. But I let him growl his growl out, knowin hed come round all right, fur there wasnt no help fur it, considrin Andy an me was two to his one. Pretty soon we all went to work, an got up a spar from below, which we rigged to the stump of the foremast, with Andys shirt atop of it. Them sea-soaked, sun-dried biscuit was pretty mean prog, as you might think, but we eat so many of em that afternoon, an cordingly drank so much water, that I was obliged to put us all on short rations the next day. `This is the day afore Christmas, says Andy Boyle, `an to-night will be Christmas eve, an its pretty tough fur us to be sittin here with not even so much hardtack as we want, an all the time thinkin that the hold of this ship is packed full of the gayest kind of good things to eat. `Shut up about Christmas! says Tom Simmons. `Them two youngsters of mine, up in Bangor, is havin their toes and noses pretty nigh froze, I spect, but theyll hang up their stockins all the same to-night, never thinkin that their dads bein cooked alive on a empty stomach. `Of course they wouldnt hang em up, says I, if they knowed what a fix you was in, but they dont know it, an whats the use of grumblin at em fur bein a little jolly? `Well, says Andy `they couldnt be more jollier than Id be if I could git at some of them fancy fixins down in the hold. I worked well on to a week at Frisco puttin in them boxes, an the names of the things was on the outside of most of em; an I tell you what it is, mates, it made my mouth water, even then, to read em, an I wasnt hungry, nuther, havin plenty to eat three times a day. There was roast beef, an roast mutton, an duck, an chicken, an soup, an peas, an beans, an termaters, an plum-puddin,an mince-pie-- `Shut up with your mince-pie! sung out Tom Simmons. `Isnt it enough to have to gnaw on these salt chips, without hearin about mince- pie? `An moren that says Andy, `there was canned peaches, an pears, an plums, an cherries. Now these things did sound so cool an good to me on that brilin deck that I couldnt stand it, an I leans over to Andy, an I says: `Now look-a here; if you dont shut up talkin about them things whats stowed below, an what we cant git at nohow, overboard you go! `That would make you short-handed, says Andy, with a grin. `Which is moren you could say, says I, `if youd chuck Tom an, me over--alludin to his eleven-inch grip. Andy didnt say no more then, but after a while he comes to me, as I was lookin round to see if anything was in sight, an says he, `I spose you aint got nothin to say agin my divin into the hold just aft of the foremast, where there seems to be a bit of pretty clear water, an see if I cant git up somethin? `You kin do it, if you like, says I, `but its at your own risk. You cant take out no insurance at this office. `All right, then, says Andy; `an if I git stove in by floatin boxes, you an Tomll have to eat the rest of them salt crackers. `Now, boy, says I,--an he wasnt much more, bein only nineteen year old,--`youd better keep out o that hold. Youll just git yourself smashed. An as to movin any of them there heavy boxes, which must be swelled up as tight as if they was part of the ship, you might as well try to pull out one of the Mary Augusters ribs. `Ill try it, says Andy, `fur to-morrer is Christmas, an if I kin help it I aint goin to be floatin atop of a Christmas dinner without eatin any on it. I let him go, fur he was a good swimmer an diver, an I did hope he might root out somethin or other, fur Christmas is about the worst day in the year fur men to be starvin on, an thats what we was a-comin to. Well, fur about two hours Andy swum, an dove, an come up blubberin, an dodged all sorts of floatin an pitchin stuff, fur the swell was still on. But he couldnt even be so much as sartin that hed found the canned vittles. To dive down through hatchways, an among broken bulkheads, to hunt fur any partiklar kind o boxes under seven foot of sea-water, aint no easy job. An though Andy said he got hold of the end of a box that felt to him like the big uns hed noticed as havin the meat-pies in, he couldnt move it no moren if it had been the stump of the foremast. If we could have pumped the water out of the hold we could have got at any part of the cargo we wanted, but as it was, we couldnt even reach the ships stores, which, of course, must have been mostly spiled anyway, whereas the canned vittles was just as good as new. The pumps was all smashed or stopped up, for we tried em, but if they hadnt a been we three couldnt never have pumped out that ship on three biscuit a day, an only about two days rations at that. So Andy he come up, so fagged out that it was as much as he could do to get his clothes on, though they wasnt much, an then he stretched himself out under the canvas an went to sleep, an it wasnt long afore he was talkin about roast turkey an cranberry sass, an punkin-pie, an sech stuff, most of which we knowed was under our feet that present minnit. Tom Simmons he just biled over, an sung out: `Roll him out in the sun an let him cook! I cant stand no more of this! But I wasnt goin to have Andy treated no sech way as that, fur if it hadnt been fur Tom Simmons wife an young uns, Andyd been worth two of him to anybody who was considrin savin life. But I give the boy a good punch in the ribs to stop his dreamin, fur I was as hungry as Tom was, an couldnt stand no nonsense about Christmas dinners. It was a little arter noon when Andy woke up, an he went outside to stretch himself. In about a minute he give a yell that made Tom an me jump. `A sail! he hollered. `A sail! An you may bet your life, young man, that twasnt moren half a second afore us two had scuffled out from under that canvas, an was standin by Andy. `There she is! he shouted, `not a mile to winard. I give one look, an then I sings out: `Taint a sail! Its a flag of distress! Cant you see, you land-lubber, that thats the Stars and Stripes upside down? `Why, so it is, says Andy, with a couple of reefs in the joyfulness of his voice. An Tom he began to growl as if somebody had cheated him out of half a years wages. The flag that we saw was on the hull of a steamer that had been driftin down on us while we was sittin under our canvas. It was plain to see shed been caught in the typhoon, too, fur there wasnt a mast or a smoke-stack on her. But her hull was high enough out of the water to catch what wind there was, while we was so low sunk that we didnt make no way at all. There was people aboard, and they saw us, an waved their hats an arms, an Andy an me waved ours; but all we could do was to wait till they drifted nearer, fur we hadnt no boats to go to em if wed wanted to. `Id like to know what good that old hulk is to us, says Tom Simmons. `She cant take us off. It did look to me somethin like the blind leadin the blind. But Andy he sings out: `Wed be better off aboard of her, fur she aint water- logged, an, moren that, I dont spose her stores are all soaked up in salt water. There was some sense in that, an when the steamer had got to within half a mile of us, we was glad to see a boat put out from her with three men in it. It was a queer boat, very low an flat, an not like any ships boat I ever see. But the two fellers at the oars pulled stiddy, an pretty soon the boat was longside of us, an the three men on our deck. One of em was the first mate of the other wreck, an when he found out what was the matter with us, he spun his yarn, which was a longer one than ours. His vessel was the Water Crescent, nine hundred tons, from Frisco to Melbourne, an they had sailed about six weeks afore we did. They was about two weeks out when some of their machinery broke down, an when they got it patched up it broke agin, worse than afore, so that they couldnt do nothin with it. They kep along under sail for about a month, makin mighty poor headway till the typhoon struck em, an that cleaned their decks off about as slick as it did ours, but their hatches wasnt blowed off, an they didnt ship no water wuth mentionin, an the crew havin kep below, none of em was lost. But now they was clean out of provisions an water, havin been short when the breakdown happened, fur they had sold all the stores they could spare to a French brig in distress that they overhauled when about a week out. When they sighted us they felt pretty sure theyd git some provisions out of us. But when I told the mate what a fix we was in his jaw dropped till his face was as long as one of Andys hands. Howsomdever, he said hed send the boat back fur as many men as it could bring over, an see if they couldnt git up some of our stores. Even if they was soaked with salt water, theyd be better than nothin. Part of the cargo of the Water Crescent was tools an, things fur some railway contractors out in Australier, an the mate told the men to bring over some of them irons that might be used to fish out the stores. All their ships boats had been blowed away, an the one they had was a kind of shore boat for fresh water, that had been shipped as part of the cargo, an stowed below. It couldnt stand no kind of a sea, but there wasnt nothin but a swell on, an when it come back it had the capn in it, an five men, besides a lot of chains an tools. Them fellers an us worked pretty nigh the rest of the day, an we got out a couple of barls of water, which was all right, havin been tight bunged, an a lot of sea-biscuit, all soaked an sloppy, but we only got a half-barl of meat, though three or four of the men stripped an dove fur moren an hour. We cut up some of the meat an eat it raw, an the capn sent some over to the other wreck, which had drifted past us to leeward, an would have gone clean away from us if the capn hadnt had a line got out an made us fast to it while we was a- workin at the stores. That night the capn took us three, as well as the provisions wed got out, on board his hull, where the commodations was considable better than they was on the half- sunk Mary Auguster. An afore we turned in he took me aft an had a talk with me as commandin offcer of my vessel. `That wreck o yourn, says he, `has got a vallyble cargo in it, which isnt spiled by bein under water. Now, if you could get that cargo into port it would put a lot of money in your pocket, fur the owners couldnt git out of payin you fur takin charge of it an havin it brung in. Now Ill tell you what Ill do. Ill lie by you, an Ive got carpenters aboard thatll put your pumps in order, an Ill set my men to work to pump out your vessel. An then, when shes afloat all right, Ill go to work agin at my vessel--which I didnt spose there was any use o doin, but whilst I was huntin round amongst our cargo to-day I found that some of the machinery we carried might be worked up sos to take the place of what is broke in our engine. Weve got a forge aboard, an I believe we can make these pieces of machinery fit, an git goin agin. Then Ill tow you into Sydney, an well divide the salvage money. I wont git nothin fur savin my vessel, coz thats my business, but you wasnt capn o yourn, an took charge of her a-purpose to save her, which is another thing. I wasnt at all sure that I didnt take charge of the Mary Auguster to save myself an not the vessel, but I didnt mention that, an asked the capn how he expected to live all this time. `Oh, we kin git at your stores easy enough, says he, when the waters pumped out. `Theyll be mostly spiled, says I. `That dont matter says he. `Menll eat anything when they cant git nothin else. An with that he left me to think it over. I must say, young man, an you kin blieve me if you know anything about sech things, that the idee of a pile of money was mighty temptin to a feller like me, who had a girl at home ready to marry him, and who would like nothin bettern to have a little house of his own, an a little vessel of his own, an give up the other side of the world altogether. But while I was goin over all this in my mind, an wonderin if the capn ever could git us into port, along comes Andy Boyle, an sits down beside me. `It drives me pretty nigh crazy, says he, `to think that to-morrers Christmas, an weve got to feed on that sloppy stuff we fished out of our stores, an not much of it, nuther, while theres all that roast turkey an plum-puddin an mince-pie a- floatin out there just afore our eyes, an we cant have none of it. `You hadnt oughter think so much about eatin, Andy, says I,`but if I was talkin about them things I wouldnt leave out canned peaches. By George! On a hot Christmas like this is goin to be, Id be the jolliest Jack on the ocean if I could git at that canned fruit. `Well, theres a way, says Andy, `that we might git some of em. A part of the cargo of this ship is stuff far blastin rocks--catridges, lectric batries, an that sort of thing; an theres a man aboard whos goin out to take charge of em. Ive been talkin to this batry man, an Ive made up my mind itll be easy enough to lower a little catridge down among our cargo an blow out a part of it. `What ud be the good of it, says I, `blowed into chips? `It might smash some, says he, `but others would be only loosened, an theyd float up to the top, where we could git em, specially them as was packed with pies, which must be pretty light. `Git out, Andy, says I, `with all that stuff! An he got out. But the idees hed put into my head didnt git out, an as I laid on my back on the deck, lookin up at the stars, they sometimes seemed to put themselves into the shape of a little house, with a little woman cookin at the kitchin fire, an a little schooner layin at anchor just off shore. An then agin theyd hump themselves up till they looked like a lot of new tin cans with their tops off, an all kinds of good things to eat inside, specially canned peaches--the big white kind, soft an cool, each one split in half, with a holler in the middle filled with juice. By George, sir! the very thought of a tin can like that made me beat my heels agin the deck. Id been mighty hungry, an had eat a lot of salt pork, wet an raw, an now the very idee of it, even cooked, turned my stomach. I looked up to the stars agin, an the little house an the little schooner was clean gone, an the whole sky was filled with nothin but bright new tin cans. In the mornin Andy he come to me agin. `Have you made up your mind, says he, `about gittin some of them good things fur Christmas dinner? `Confound you! says I, `you talk as if all we had to do was to go an git em. `An thats what I blieve we kin do, says he, `with the help of that batry man. `Yes, says I, `an blow a lot of the cargo into flinders, an damage the Mary Auguster sos she couldnt never be took into port. An then I told him what the capn had said to me, an what I was goin to do with the money. `A little catridge, says Andy, `would do all we want, an wouldnt hurt the vessel, nuther. Besides that, I dont blieve what this capn says about tinkerin up his engine. Taint likely hell ever git her runnin agin, nor pump out the Mary Auguster, nuther. If I was you Id a durned sight ruther have a Christmas dinner in hand than a house an wife in the bush. `I aint thinkin o marryin a girl in Australier, says I. An Andy he grinned, an said I wouldnt marry nobody if I had to live on spiled vittles till I got her. A little arter that I went to the capn an I told him about Andys idee, but he was down on it. `Its your vessel, an not mine, says he, `an if you want to try to git a dinner out of her Ill not stand in your way. But its my pinion youll just damage the ship, an do nothin. Howsomdever, I talked to the batry man about it, an he thought it could be done, an not hurt the ship, nuther. The men was all in favor of it, fur none of em had forgot it was Christmas day. But Tom Simmons he was agin it strong, fur he was thinkin hed git some of the money if we got the Mary Auguster into port. He was a selfish- minded man, was Tom, but it was his nater, an I spose he couldnt help it. Well, it wasnt long afore I began to feel pretty empty an mean, an if Id wanted any of the prog we got out the day afore, I couldnt have found much, fur the men had eat it up nearly all in the night. An so I just made up my mind without any more foolin, an me an Andy Boyle an the batry man, with some catridges an a coil of wire, got into the little shore boat, an pulled over to the Mary Auguster. There we lowered a small catridge down the main hatchway, an let it rest down among the cargo. Then we rowed back to the steamer, uncoilin the wire as. we went. The batry man clumb up on deck, an fixed his wire to a lectric machine, which hed got all ready afore we started. Andy an me didnt git out of the boat. We had too much sense fur that, with all them hungry fellers waitin to jump in her. But we just pushed a little off, an sot waitin, with our mouths awaterin, fur him to touch her off. He seemed to be a long time about it, but at last he did it, an that instant there was a bang on board the Mary Auguster that made my heart jump. Andy an me pulled fur her like mad, the others a- hollerin arter us, an we was on deck in no time. The deck was all covered with the water that had been throwed up. But I tell you, sir, that we poked an fished about, an Andy stripped an went down an swum all round, an we couldnt find one floatin box of canned goods. There was a lot of splinters, but where they come from we didnt know. By this time my dander was up, an I just pitched around savage. That little catridge wasnt no good, an I didnt intend to stand any more foolin. We just rowed back to the other wreck, an I called to the batry man to come down, an bring some bigger catridges with him, fur if we was goin to do anything we might as well do it right. So he got down with a package of bigger ones, an jumped into the boat. The capn he called out to us to be keerful, an Tom Simmons leaned over the rail an swored; but I didnt pay no tention to nuther of em, an we pulled away. When I got aboard the Mary Auguster, I says to the batry man: `We dont want no nonsense this time, an I want you to put in enough catridges to heave up somethin thatll do fur a Christmas dinner. I dont know how the cargo is stored, but you kin put one big catridge midship, another forard, an another aft, an one or nuther of em oughter fetch up somethin. Well, we got the three catridges into place. They was a good deal bigger than the one we fust used, an we jined em all to one wire, an then we rowed back, carryin the long wire with us. When we reached the steamer, me an Andy was a- goin to stay in the boat as we did afore, but the capn sung out that he wouldnt allow the batry to be touched off till we come aboard. `Thers got to be fair play, says he. `Its your vittles, but its my side thats doin the work. After weve blasted her this time you two can go in the boat an see what there is to git hold of, but two of my men must go along. So me an Andy had to go on deck, an two big fellers was detailed to go with us in the little boat when the time come, an then the batry man he teched her off. Well, sir, the pop that followed that tech was somethin to remember. It shuck the water, it shuck the air, an it shuck the hull we was on. A reglar cloud of smoke an flyin bits of things rose up out of the Mary Auguster; an when that smoke cleared away, an the water was all bilin with the splash of various-sized hunks that come rainin down from the sky, what was left of the Mary Auguster was sprinkled over the sea like a wooden carpet fur water-birds to walk on. Some of the men sung out one thing, an some another, an I could hear Tom Simmons swear; but Andy an me said never a word, but scuttled down into the boat, follered close by the two men who was to go with us. Then we rowed like devils fur the lot of stuff that was bobbin about on the water, out where the Mary Auguster had been. In we went among the floatin spars and ships timbers, I keepin the things off with an oar, the two men rowin, an Andy in the bow. Suddenly Andy give a yell, an then he reached himself forard with sech a bounce that I thought hed go overboard. But up he come in a minnit, his two leven-inch hands gripped round a box. He sot down in the bottom of the boat with the box on his lap an his eyes screwed on some letters that was stamped on one end. `Pidjin-pies! he sings out. Taint turkeys, nor taint cranberries but, by the Lord Harry, its Christmas pies all the same! After that Andy didnt do no more work, but sot holdin that box as if it had been his fust baby. But we kep pushin on to see what else there was. Its my pinion that the biggest part of that barks cargo was blowed into mince-meat, an the most of the rest of it was so heavy that it sunk. But it wasnt all busted up, an it didnt all sink. There was a big piece of wreck with a lot of boxes stove into the timbers, and some of these had in em beef ready biled an packed into cans, an there was other kinds of meat, an difrent sorts of vegetables, an one box of turtle soup. I looked at every one of em as we took em in, an when we got the little boat pretty well loaded I wanted to still keep on searchin; but the men they said that shore boat ud sink if we took in any more cargo, an so we put back, I feelin glummern I oughter felt, fur I had begun to be afeared that canned fruit, sech as peaches, was heavy, an lible to sink. As soon as we had got our boxes aboard, four fresh men put out in the boat, an after a while they come back with another load. An I was mighty keerful to read the names on all the boxes. Some was meat-pies, an some was salmon, an some was potted herrins, an some was lobsters. But nary a thing could I see that ever had growed on a tree. Well, sir, there was three loads brought in altogether, an the Christmas dinner we had on the forard deck of that steamers hull was about the jolliest one that was ever seen of a hot day aboard of a wreck in the Pacific Ocean. The capn kept good order, an when all was ready the tops was jerked off the boxes, and each man grabbed a can an opened it with his knife. When he had cleaned it out, he tuk another without doin much questionin as to the bill of fare. Whether anybody got pidjin-pie cept Andy, I cant say, but the way we piled in Delmoniker prog would a made people open their eyes as was eatin their Christmas dinners on shore that day. Some of the things would a been better cooked a little more, or het up, but we was too fearful hungry to wait fur that, an they was tiptop as they was. The capn went out afterwards, an towed in a couple of barls of flour that was only part soaked through, an he got some other plain prog that would do fur future use. But none of us give our minds to stuff like this arter the glorious Christmas dinner that wed quarried out of the Mary Auguster. Every man that wasnt on duty went below and turned in fur a snooze-- all cept me, an I didnt feel just altogether satisfied. To be sure, Id had an A1 dinner, an, though a little mixed, Id never eat a jollier one on any Christmas that I kin look back at. But, fur all that, there was a hanker inside o me. I hadnt got all Id laid out to git when we teched off the Mary Auguster. The day was blazin hot, an a lot of the things Id eat was pretty peppery. `Now, thinks I, `if there had been just one can o peaches sech as I seen shinin in the stars last night! An just then, as I was walkin aft, all by myself, I seed lodged on the stump of the mizzenmast a box with one corner druv down among the splinters. It was half split open, an I could see the tin cans shinin through the crack. I give one jump at it, an wrenched the side off. On the top of the first can I seed was a picture of a big white peach with green leaves. That box had been blowed up so high that if it had come down anywhere cept among them splinters it would a smashed itself to flinders, or killed somebody. So fur as I know, it was the only thing that fell nigh us, an by George, sir, I got it! When I had finished a can of em I hunted up Andy, an then we went aft an eat some more. `Well, says Andy, as we was a-eatin, `how dye feel now about blowin up your wife, an your house, an that little schooner you was goin to own? `Andy, says I, `this is the joyfulest Christmas Ive had yit, an if I was to live till twenty hundred I dont blieve Id have no joyfuler, with things comin in so pat; so dont you throw no shadders. `Shadders! says Andy. `That aint me. I leave that sort of thing fur Tom Simmons. `Shadders is cool, says I, `an I kin go to sleep under all he throws. Well, sir, continued old Silas, putting his hand on the tiller and turning his face seaward, if Tom Simmons had kept command of that wreck, we all would a laid there an waited an waited till some of us was starved, an the others got nothin fur it, fur the capn never mended his engine, an it wasnt moren a week afore we was took off, an then it was by a sailin vessel, which left the hull of the Water Crescent behind her, just as she would a had to leave the Mary Auguster if that jolly old Christmas wreck had been there. An now, sir, said Silas, dye see that stretch o little ripples over yander, lookin as if it was a lot o herrin turnin over to dry their sides? Do you know what that is? Thats the supper wind. That means coffee, an hot cakes, an a bit of briled fish, an pertaters, an praps, if the old woman feels in a partiklar good humor, some canned peaches--big white uns, cut in half, with a holler place in the middle filled with cool, sweet juice.
Posted on: Thu, 25 Dec 2014 02:21:46 +0000