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Updated: June 6, 2025
The big 'squarehead' is always ramming it down Burke's throat how he brought his barque out from Liverpool in a hundred and five days, while the Hilda took ten days more on her last run out!" "That's so, I guess," said Jones. They say that Schenke has got a friend down from Sacramento gym.-instructor or something to a college up there. He'll be training the 'Dutchy' crew like blazes.
"Talk about being cocky," said Gregson; "you should hear Captain Schenke bragging about the way he brought the Hedwig Rickmers out. I heard 'em and the old man at it in the ship-chandler's yesterday. Hot . . . . Look here, you chaps! I don't think the old man cares so much to win the Cup as to beat Schenke!
If Ah dond't haf dem here, it is small sail ve can carry on de sheep." "Och, now, ye just say that, Schenke, ye just say that! But it's glad I am if we're any use t' ye." "Hundert days to Falmouth, eh?" Schenke grinned as he said it. "Vat 'bout dot bett now, Cabtin?" "Oh that," said Burke queerly. "You win, of course. I'm not quite broke yet, Captain Schenke.
Deep roars from Schenke somewhere in the rear! Now, labouring still to Takia's 'troke! 'troke! we had the foam of the German's stern wash at our blades! "Come away, Hilda's!" . . . "Shake her up, there!" . . . "Hilda-h! Hilda-h!" Takia took no outward heed of the cries. He was staring stolidly ahead, bending to the pulse of the boat. No outward heed but 'troke! 'troke! came faster from his lips.
But a different Schenke to the big, blustering, overbearing "Square-head" we had known in 'Frisco. Schenke as kind as a brother a brother of the sea indeed. Big, fat, honest Schenke, passing his huge arm through that of our broken old skipper, leading him aft to his own bed, and silencing his faltering story by words of cheer. "Ach, du lieber Gott! It is all right, no?
Ah bet you feefty dollars to tventig, Ah take mein sheep home quicker as you vass!" "Done wit' ye," said stout old 'Paddy' Burke, though well he know the big German barque could sail round the little Hilda. "Fifty dollars to twenty, Captain Schenke, an' moind y've said it!" The green boat sheered off and forged ahead, Schenke laughing and waving his hand derisively.
In the evening I got to Perleberg, and walking wearily up the old, irregular High Street, established myself at the Londoner Schenke—the London Tavern. I found the parlour pleasant and almost private, the hostess quiet and lady-like.
"Dey dond't like de hard vork, Cabtin. . . . Dey dond't like it but ve takes der Coop, all de same! Dey pulls goot und strong, oder" he rasped a short sentence in rapid Low German "Shermans dond't be beat by no durn lime-juicer, nein!" Old Burke grinned. "Cocky as ever, Captain Schenke! Bedad now, since ye had the luck of ye're last passage there's no limit to ye!" "Luck! Luck!
You know you haf bedder look von de vind as Ah got. Ah sail mein sheep! Ah dond't vait for de fair winds nor not'ings!" "No," said Burke, "but ye get 'em, all the same. Everybody knows ye've th' divil's own luck, Schenke!" "Und so you vas! Look now, Cabtin Burke. You t'nk you got so fast a sheep as mein, eh? Veil! Ah gif you a chanst to make money.
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