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Updated: June 21, 2025
To this Ned readily agreed, with the result that the rehearsal of the part caused no end of merriment. Agnes was a jolly girl, and showed a decided preference for the White boys those from Ferndale never appeared to interest the wealthy Agnes. When the rehearsal was finally over Dorothy was very tired, for she felt a personal interest in the affair, as it was almost entirely in Mrs. White's hands.
I am not far removed from the conviction that between the sincerities of his sister and of his dear nieces, Captain Anthony of the Ferndale must have had his loneliness brought home to his bosom for the first time of his life, at an age, thirty-five or thereabouts, when one is mature enough to feel the pang of such a discovery.
He had come to relieve young Powell; but seeing him engaged in talk with the "enemy" with one of the "enemies" at least had kept at a distance, which, the poop of the Ferndale being over seventy feet long, he had no difficulty in doing. Mr Powell saw him at the head of the ladder leaning on his elbow, melancholy and silent. "Oh! Here you are, sir." "Here I am.
Powell," says I, "I believe the Captain of the Ferndale was thinking all the time that I was a relation of yours." "I was rather concerned about the propriety of it, you know, but Mr. Powell didn't seem to be in the least. "Did he?" says he. "That's funny, because it seems to me too that I've been a sort of good uncle to several of you young fellows lately. Don't you think so yourself?
I am going to get the wife! . . " I yelled, all the watch on deck yelled. Crash!" Mr. Powell gasped at the recollection. "It was a Belgian Green Star liner, the Westland," he went on, "commanded by one of those stop-for- nothing skippers. Flaherty was his name and I hope he will die without absolution. She cut half through the old Ferndale and after the blow there was a silence like death.
Renovated certainly the saloon of the Ferndale was to receive the "strange woman." The mellowness of its old-fashioned, tarnished decoration was gone. And Anthony looking round saw the glitter, the gleams, the colour of new things, untried, unused, very bright too bright.
"It suddenly dawned upon me that the innocent skipper of the Ferndale had taken it for granted that I was a relative of the Shipping Master! I was quite astonished at this discovery, though indeed the mistake was natural enough under the circumstances. What I ought to have admired was the reticence with which this misunderstanding had been established and acted upon.
It was gloomy weather; dead head wind, blowing quite half a gale; the Ferndale under reduced sail was stretching close-hauled across the track of the homeward bound ships, just moving through the water and no more, since there was no object in pressing her and the weather looked threatening.
He enters with his talk of meanness and cruelty, like a bucket of water on the flame. Clearly a shock. But the effects of a bucket of water are diverse. They depend on the kind of flame. A mere blaze of dry straw, of course ... but there can be no question of straw there. Anthony of the Ferndale was not, could not have been, a straw-stuffed specimen of a man.
For those who refuse to believe in chance he, I mean Mr Powell, must have been obviously predestined to add his native ingenuousness to the sum of all the others carried by the honest ship Ferndale. He was too ingenuous.
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