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Updated: June 18, 2025


There were brave days aboard the Queen as she voyaged up the coast days of sun and light winds when the boys sat lazily in the blue shadow of the sails, looking off through half-closed eyes toward the faint line of shore that appeared and disappeared to leeward; or listened to Job's long tales of adventure up and down the high seas; or fished with hand-lines over the taffrail, happy if they pulled up even a goggle-eyed flounder.

The old man's voice trembled, and he walked into the house and shut the door; and Job knew the talk was over for that night. Whistling to Shot, he and the dog stole upstairs to Job's little bare room, where a few wood-cuts hung on the wall, and a long, narrow bedstead, a chair, and a box that served for table, were the only furniture.

The bold and awful poetry of Job's complaint produces too many flimsy imitators; for there is always something consolatory in grandeur, but the symphony transposed for the piano becomes hysterically sad. This literature of woe, as Whitman calls it, this Maladie de René, as we like to call it in Europe, is in many ways a most humiliating and sickly phenomenon.

Would Daggs try to settle his long score against the boys by some unheard-of brutality? A sudden hail cut in upon his thoughts. "Sail ho!" the lookout on the other side had cried. "Where away?" came Job's deep shout. "Three points on the port bow," answered the seaman, "an' not above a league off!" Jeremy, straining his eyes into the night, made out the dim patch of sail ahead.

Take it into thy mind and heart, and take it for thy good. It was a frosty ending, exasperating in its air of patronage, of superior wisdom, and in its lack of any note of feeling. So, of course, it set Job's impatience alight, and his next speech is more desperate than his former. When will well-meaning comforters learn not to rub salt into wounds while they seem to be dressing them?

What follows comes from the statements of Doc. Wild and Mac. Falconer, and Job's own 'wanderings in his mind', as he called them. 'They took a blanky mean advantage of me, he said, 'when they had me down and I couldn't talk sense. The filly circled off a bit, and then stood staring as a mob of brumbies, when fired at, will sometimes stand watching the smoke.

"Give the wheel a spin and let's get busy!" "He certainly won't," said Driscoll; "I've unshipped the handle. You'll get your cutters quickest if you quit talking and wait until I'm through." "That's not playing it like a white man. Don't know why they hired you at the mine. Your job's smuggling the Indians liquor." "Your folks!" sneered Driscoll. "You're not white."

And thus it happened that within five minutes of this discovery of Job's body, the whole of that hideous valley sent up to heaven the reek of its burning; whilst we, filled with murderous desires, ran hither and thither with our weapons, seeking to destroy the vile creatures that had brought the poor lad to so unholy a death.

Then there was Job's story about his return ticket to heaven, which puzzled me, and I urged him to continue his story. "Thou'll reckon I'm talkin' blether," he went on, "but I tell thee it's true, ivery word on it. I'll tak my Bible oath on it. All on a sudden I were stannin' i' a gert park, and eh! but there were grand trees.

The organist was no other than Jane, and her face flushed as she caught Job's eye. Just then the music stopped and a sweet-faced old man stepped up and said, "Brethren and sisters, we have knelt at the Lord's table; let us now tell of the Lord's love. Let us have fifty testimonies in the next few minutes. Let us sing, 'I love to tell the story of Jesus and his love."

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