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Updated: May 31, 2025
He was feeling very forlorn and lonely, and was wondering how he should manage to exist on steerage fare in steerage company during the next five days, when a familiar voice, close at hand, said: "Hello, young man in furs! Where do you come from? Been to the North Pole with Peary?" Turning quickly, Cabot gasped out: "Captain Phinney!" "No, not cap'n, but second mate Phinney," retorted the other.
Just then some one knocked at the door, and in response to Mr. Cabot's unwilling "Come in," Ben's head appeared. "Beg pardon, Mr. Cabot, but Mr. Van Metre wants you out here." Pickering lunged past Ben. "Don't stop me," he cried crossly, in response to Ben's "Well, old fellow."
All at once Cabot paused, and, holding a bit of serpentine in his hand, asked: "Did this come from about here?" "Yes; ail of them did." "Could you show me the place, or somewhere near where you found it?" "I think I could, if we had time; but not if you are going away in the morning, for it would take at least half a day."
John Cabot, a Venetian residing in Bristol, was the first person sailing under the English flag, to come to these shores. He sailed in 1497, with his three sons, but no settlement was effected. Sir Humphrey Gilbert was lost at sea in 1583, and Walter Raleigh, his cousin, took up claims that had been made to him by Queen Elizabeth, and crossed to the shores of the present North Carolina.
How did you lose the power of speech? How did you become so severely wounded? Can't you tell me some of these things?" For answer Mr. Balfour wrote: "Perhaps, some time. Tell first how you came here." So Cabot, forced to curb for the present his own overpowering curiosity, sat down and told of all that had happened since the departure of the man-wolf from Locked Harbour.
But I am reading it with a sort of avidity, like one seeking after hid treasure. Mother, observing what I was doing, advised me to read it straight through, but to mingle a passage now and then with chapters from other books. She suggested my beginning on Baxter's "Saints' Rest," and of that I have read every word. I shall read it over, as Dr. Cabot advised, till I have fully caught its spirit.
Bob Cabot laughed and dropped a big, kindly hand on the shoulder of the woman beside him. "I will try and impress upon him all that he has missed when I see him to-night. I am to dine with him at the University Club at seven." "You're not dining out!" ejaculated Hannah in dismay. "I'm afraid so." "Oh, Mr. Bob! And fried chicken for dinner just the way you like it, too." "I'm sorry, Hannah."
Oh, I'm quite sure he'll do well in the Law, if you'll only have patience a little longer." "Nonsense, Felicia," said Mr. Cabot, "as if I'd get him out of that office, when it was such a piece of work to fasten him in there. Well, to make a long story short, he loves Polly Pepper. Think of that, Felicia!" And Mr.
She was making a fine run, and in spite of his weariness after a six hours' watch on deck, White Baldwin presented a cheery face to Cabot, as the latter vainly strove to recognise and account for his surroundings. "Good morning," said the young skipper, "I hope you have slept well, and are feeling all right again."
She had hardly made this confession when her husband, temporarily relieved of his responsibilities by a pilot, came in search of her and was duly presented to our hero. His name was Phinney, and he so took to Cabot that from that moment the latter no longer found himself lonely or at a loss for occupation.
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