The Lively Turtle
was about to sail on a voyage to Spain, and David was to go in her as
mate. They stood there in the level morning sunshine talking
cheerfully; but had you been near enough, you could have seen tears in
Anna Matson's blue eyes, for she loved her husband and knew there was
always danger on the sea. And David's bluff, cheery voice trembled a
little now and then, for the honest sailor loved his snug home on the
Merrimac, with the dear wife and her pretty boys. But presently the
wherry came alongside, and David was just stepping into it, when he
turned back to kiss his wife and children once more.
"In with you, man," said Pelatiah Curtis. "There is no time for kissing
and such fooleries when the tide serves."
And so they parted. Anna and the boys went back to their home, and
David to the Port, whence he sailed off in the Lively Turtle. And
months passed, autumn followed summer, and winter the autumn, and then
spring came, and anon it was summer on the river-side, and he did not
come back. And another year passed, and then the old sailors and
fishermen shook their heads solemnly, and, said that the Lively Turtle
was a lost ship, and would never come back to port. And poor Anna had
her bombazine gown dyed black, and her straw bonnet trimmed in mourning
ribbons, and thenceforth she was known only as the Widow Matson.
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