I hope to have many a voyage yet, and to see stranger people and
places than I saw then, but I hardly hope ever to enjoy myself so much
again. I have long ago found out that Fred's stories of the captain's
adventures were not true stories, and as I have read and learned more
about the world than I knew at that time, I know now that there are
only certain things which one can meet with by land or by sea. But
when Fred and I made our first voyage in emulation of his grandfather
there was no limit to my expectations, or to what we were prepared to
see or experience at every fresh bend of the London and Lancingford
Canal.
I remember one of Fred's stories about the captain was of his spending
a year and a day on an island called Musk Island, in the Pacific. He
had left the ship, Fred said, to do a little exploring alone in his
gig. Not knowing at that time that the captain's gig is a boat, I was
a good deal puzzled, I remember, to think of Mrs. Johnson's red-faced
father crossing the sea in a gig like the one Mr. Bustard used to go
his professional "rounds" in. And when Fred spoke of his "pulling
himself" I was yet more bewildered by the unavoidable conclusion that
they had no horse on board, and that the gallant and ever-ready
captain went himself between the shafts.
Pages:
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83