Passionate Muriel

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book Passionate Muriel by Howard Longfellow, Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Howard Longfellow ISBN: 9781465532763
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: English
Author: Howard Longfellow
ISBN: 9781465532763
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: English
No, I am not giving you "sharks." There isn't a shark in this story, and I don't know that I would tell it at all if we weren't alone, just you and I. But you and I have seen things in various parts, and maybe you will understand. Anyhow, you know that I am telling what I know about, and nothing else; and it has been on my mind to tell you ever since it happened, only there hasn't been a chance. It's a long story, and it took some time to happen; and it began a good many years ago, in October, as well as I can remember. I was mate then; I passed the local Marine Board for master about three years later. She was the Helen B. Jackson, of New York, with lumber for the West Indies, four-masted schooner, Captain Hackstaff. She was an old-fashioned one, even then—no steam donkey, and all to do by hand. There were still sailors in the coasting trade in those days, you remember. She wasn't a hard ship, for the old man was better than most of them, though he kept to himself and had a face like a monkey-wrench. We were thirteen, all told, in the ship's company; and some of them afterwards thought that might have had something to do with it, but I had all that nonsense knocked out of me when I was a boy. I don't mean to say that I like to go to sea on a Friday, but I have gone to sea on a Friday, and nothing has happened; and twice before that we have been thirteen, because one of the hands didn't turn up at the last minute, and nothing ever happened either—nothing worse than the loss of a light spar or two, or a little canvas. Whenever I have been wrecked, we had sailed as cheerily as you please—no thirteens, no Fridays, no dead men in the hold. I believe it generally happens that way. I dare say you remember those two Benton boys that were so much alike? It is no wonder, for they were twin brothers. They shipped with us as boys on the old Boston Belle, when you were mate and I was before the mast. I never was quite sure which was which of those two, even then; and when they both had beards it was harder than ever to tell them apart. One was Jim, and the Other was Jack; James Benton and John Benton.
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
No, I am not giving you "sharks." There isn't a shark in this story, and I don't know that I would tell it at all if we weren't alone, just you and I. But you and I have seen things in various parts, and maybe you will understand. Anyhow, you know that I am telling what I know about, and nothing else; and it has been on my mind to tell you ever since it happened, only there hasn't been a chance. It's a long story, and it took some time to happen; and it began a good many years ago, in October, as well as I can remember. I was mate then; I passed the local Marine Board for master about three years later. She was the Helen B. Jackson, of New York, with lumber for the West Indies, four-masted schooner, Captain Hackstaff. She was an old-fashioned one, even then—no steam donkey, and all to do by hand. There were still sailors in the coasting trade in those days, you remember. She wasn't a hard ship, for the old man was better than most of them, though he kept to himself and had a face like a monkey-wrench. We were thirteen, all told, in the ship's company; and some of them afterwards thought that might have had something to do with it, but I had all that nonsense knocked out of me when I was a boy. I don't mean to say that I like to go to sea on a Friday, but I have gone to sea on a Friday, and nothing has happened; and twice before that we have been thirteen, because one of the hands didn't turn up at the last minute, and nothing ever happened either—nothing worse than the loss of a light spar or two, or a little canvas. Whenever I have been wrecked, we had sailed as cheerily as you please—no thirteens, no Fridays, no dead men in the hold. I believe it generally happens that way. I dare say you remember those two Benton boys that were so much alike? It is no wonder, for they were twin brothers. They shipped with us as boys on the old Boston Belle, when you were mate and I was before the mast. I never was quite sure which was which of those two, even then; and when they both had beards it was harder than ever to tell them apart. One was Jim, and the Other was Jack; James Benton and John Benton.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book Benjamin Franklin: Representative Selections With Introduction, Bibliograpy, and Notes by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book The Cardinal Moth by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book The Royal Museum at Naples by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book Lords of The North by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book The Portland Sketch Book by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book A Queda D'Um Anjo: Romance by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book The Flight of Georgiana: A Story of Love and Peril in England in 1746 by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book The Spartan Twins by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book Agincourt: A Romance by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book The Daughter of an Empress by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book Bell's Cathedrals: The Cathedral Church of Ely, A History and Description of the Building with a Short Account of the Monastery and of the See by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book Tao, The Great Luminant: Essays from the Huai Nan Tzu by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book Psychic Phenomena of Jamaica by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book The Doctor in History, Literature, Folk-Lore, Etc. by Howard Longfellow
Cover of the book Shakespeare's Alleged Blunders in Legal Terminology by Howard Longfellow
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy