Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 22, 2025
"They seems reasonable enough, I won't deny it," admitted Polson, "and I dare say as everybody'll be willin' enough to agree to 'em, all except Wilde, I mean. I know he won't like the hidea of not bein' allowed to hinterfere until we arrives at the hiland. Can't ye make that there part a trifle easier, Mr Troubridge?"
Polson had once threatened him with a horse-whip, and the Major had withdrawn from the conflict not because he had any want of physical courage, but solely because he was too much of a fine gentleman to brawl. He had never forgotten or forgiven the insult, and Polson had learned to hate him all the more because he mistook him for a coward.
'Stop that infernal cackle, whoever you are, and let me sleep. Don't you know better than to make a row like that in a hospital? Once more Polson this time wide awake was conscious of the voice of his enemy. 'It's all right, his father whispered. 'I'll come back next time you've got to be fed, old chap, but he doesn't like me, and he's been down on me a hundred times already.
"I knowed it," said Tucker, in a profuse perspiration, "I knowed it. Them blamed gals are all alike. Always knows what's best. Miss Polson! Miss Polson!" He shook her roughly, but to no purpose, and then running to the door, shouted eagerly for Susan.
He bowed slightly in acknowledgment of my permission to continue, and resumed: "When Polson, the boatswain of this ship, boarded the Salamis, he informed your captain that the Mercury was bound from Liverpool to Sydney, New South Wales, and in a sense the statement was true, inasmuch as that when the ship sailed from Liverpool her captain had instructions to navigate her to Australia.
"Then that is all right," remarked the skipper. Turning to Polson, he said: "This young gentleman is Mr Philip Troubridge, one of my midshipman-apprentices. He has been with me for a matter of three years; and he is, as you just now heard me say, an excellent navigator, and a very good seaman.
Waring and Thomas Tomlings have each of them a book of mine, pray ask for them, which is all I have to say, but my prayers to God for you all, which is all from your Dying Son, Richard Polson. In my Cell. October the 6th. P.S. My love to all my friends.
"Take this glass, Polson," I said, "and very carefully examine the spot immediately over our jibboom-end. To my mind there seems to be a very narrow patch of unbroken water there, which may yet prove wide enough to take the ship through with a leading wind."
So saying, Polson walked to the bell, where it hung mounted on the rail that guarded the fore end of the poop, struck "eight bells" upon it, and then descended to call the carpenter, with whom he presently returned to the poop.
"Our young friend, Polson, has magnificently distinguished himself, having rescued under heavy fire a wounded officer, whose name I have not yet been able to discover. But the gallant action was seen by the Chief, who was there in person, and who has told me that he has seen nothing more splendid in the whole course of his career."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking