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Updated: June 12, 2025
Pushing aside some branches we came to a slender Gothic memorial in grey stone, inscribed with bas-reliefs of battle scenes, showing Prussians forcing a landing in boats and Danes resisting with savage tenacity. In the failing light we spelt out an inscription: 'Den bei dem Meeres-Uebergange und der Eroberung von Alsen am 29.
"What for?" inquired the mate, in the manner of a sulky schoolboy. "If there was a man like that here now," said Miss Alsen thoughtfully, "I'd dare him to mustard old Towson's nose." "Do what?" inquired the astonished mate. "Mustard old Towson's nose," said Miss Alsen, glancing lightly from the cruet-stand to the portrait.
He moved off with dignity as his daughter, who had overheard the remark, came sidling up to the mate and smiled on him agreeably. "He's put another portrait there," she said softly. "You'll find the mustard-pot in the cruet," said the mate coldly. Miss Alsen turned and watched her father as he went forward, and then, to the mate's surprise, went below without another word.
CHARLES. "Jutland, including Holstein, is about 280 miles long and 80 miles broad; the islands, of various dimensions, are Zealand, Funen, Langland, Laland, Falster, Mona, Femeren, Alsen, &c. Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark, is a large, rich, and well-fortified town, situated on the island of Zealand; the population about 100,000."
The mate grunted, and went on deck for sympathy, but, finding Miss Alsen in a mood far removed from sentiment, and not at all grateful, drew off whistling. Matters were in this state when the skipper appeared, wiping his mouth.
At length, as he served the sick, he was smitten with the plague, and was laid in the burying-ground of the Laics. In the same year, on the Feast of St. Simon and St. Jude, and after supper-time, Laurentius died of this same plague. He was a Laic and Donate, and his native place was Alsen, a town near Tyel in the parts of Geldria.
The mate went on deck and took charge, watching with great interest the movements of the passenger as she peered into the galley and hotly assailed the cook's method of washing up. "Don't you like the sea?" he inquired politely, as she came and sat on the cabin skylight. Miss Alsen shook her head dismally. "I've got to it," she remarked.
"You put that spoon down," said the mate, who was by no means desirous of another interview with the skipper. "Shan't!" said Miss Alsen. The mate sprang at her, but she dodged round the table. He leaned over, and, catching her by the left arm, drew her towards him; then, with her flushed, laughing face close to his, he forgot everything else, and kissed her. "Oh!" said Hetty indignantly.
"Cap'n's on deck, I s'pose?" said the mate, preparing to resume negotiations where they were broken off the night before. "I hope you feel better than you did last night." "Yes, thank you," said she. "You'll make a good sailor in time," said the mate. "I hope not," said Miss Alsen, who thought it time to quell a gleam of peculiar tenderness plainly apparent in the mate's eyes.
As he warmed with his subject he ventured to put his hands on the same spokes, and, gradually becoming more venturesome, boldly supported her with his arm every time the schooner gave a lurch. "Thank you," said Miss Alsen, coldly extricating herself, as the male fancied another lurch was coming. "Good-night."
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