[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
difficult subject for his new ministrations. By way of gaining time, he
thrust an elbow into the mate's side as a hint that it was now his turn to
offer something.
"It might have been worse, Mr. Monday," observed Leach, shifting his
attitude like a man whose moral and physical action moved _pari passu:_
"it might have been much worse, I once saw a man shot in the under jaw,
and he lived a fortnight without any sort of nourishment!"
Still Mr. Monday gazed at the mate as if he thought matters could not be
much worse.
"That _was_ a hard case," put in the captain; "why, the poor fellow had no
opportunity to recover without victuals.
"No, sir, nor any drink. He never swallowed a mouthful of liquor of any
sort from the time he was hit, until he took the plunge when we threw him
overboard."
Perhaps there is truth in the saying that "misery loves company," for the
eye of Mr. Monday turned towards the table on which the bottle of cordial
still stood, and from John Effingham, had just before helped him to
swallow, under the impression that it was of no moment what he took. The
captain understood the appeal, and influenced by the same opinion
concerning the hopelessness of the patient's condition, besides being
kindly anxious to console him, he poured out a small glass, all of which
he permitted the other to drink. The effect was instantaneous, for it
would seem this treacherous friend is ever to produce a momentary pleasure
as a poor compensation for its lasting pains.
"I don't feel so bad, gentleman," returned the wounded man with a force of
voice that startled his visitors. "I feel better--much better, and am very
glad to see you. Captain Truck, I have the honor to drink your health."
The captain looked at the mate as if he thought their visit was
twenty-four hours too soon, for live, all felt sure, Mr. Monday could not.
But Leach, better placed to observe the countenance of the patient,
whispered his commander that it was merely "a catspaw, and will
not stand."
"I am very glad to see you both, gentlemen," continued Mr. Monday, "and
beg you to help yourselves."
The captain changed his tactics. Finding his patient so strong and
cheerful, he thought consolation would be more easily received just at
that moment, than it might be even half an hour later.
"We are all mortal, Mr. Monday--"
"Yes, sir; all very mortal."
"And even the strongest and boldest ought occasionally to think of their
end."
"Quite true, sir; quite true. The strongest and boldest. When do you think
we shall get in, gentlemen?"
Page 261
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Captain Truck afterwards affirmed that he was "never before taken so flat
aback by a question as by this." Still he extricated himself from the
dilemma with dexterity, the spirit of proselytism apparently arising
within him in proportion as the other manifested indifference to
his offices.
"There is a port to which we are all steering, my dear sir," he said; "and
of which we ought always to bear in mind the landmarks and beacons, and
that port is heaven."
"Yes," answered Mr Leach, "a port that, sooner or later, will fetch us all
up."
Mr. Monday gazed from one to the other, and something like the state of
feeling, from which he had been aroused by the cordial, began to return.
"Do you think me so bad, gentlemen?" he inquired, with a little of the
eagerness of a startled man.
"As bad as one bound direct to so good a place as I hope and trust is the
case with you, can be," returned the captain, determined to follow up the
advantage he had gained. "Your wound, we fear, is mortal, and people
seldom remain long in this wicked world with such sort of hurts."
"If he stands that," thought the captain, "I shall turn him over, at once,
to Mr. Effingham."
Mr. Monday did not stand it. The illusion produced by the liquor, although
the latter still sustained his pulses, had begun to evaporate, and the
melancholy truth resumed its power.
"I believe, indeed, that I am near my end, gentlemen," he said faintly;
and am thankful--for--for this consolation."
"Now will be a good time to throw in the chapter," whispered Leach; "he
seems quite conscious, and very contrite."
Captain Truck, in pure despair, and conscious of his own want of judgment,
had determined to leave the question of the selection of this chapter to
be decided by chance. Perhaps a little of that mysterious dependence on
Providence which renders all men more or less superstitions, influenced
him; and that he hoped a wisdom surpassing his own might direct him to a
choice. Fortunately, the book of Psalms is near the middle of the sacred
volume, and a better disposition of this sublime repository of pious
praise and spiritual wisdom could not have been made; for the
chance-directed peruser of the Bible will perhaps oftener open among its
pages than at any other place.
If we should say that Mr. Monday felt any very profound spiritual relief
from the reading of Captain Truck, we should both overrate the manner of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl rafalstec.xlx.pl
difficult subject for his new ministrations. By way of gaining time, he
thrust an elbow into the mate's side as a hint that it was now his turn to
offer something.
"It might have been worse, Mr. Monday," observed Leach, shifting his
attitude like a man whose moral and physical action moved _pari passu:_
"it might have been much worse, I once saw a man shot in the under jaw,
and he lived a fortnight without any sort of nourishment!"
Still Mr. Monday gazed at the mate as if he thought matters could not be
much worse.
"That _was_ a hard case," put in the captain; "why, the poor fellow had no
opportunity to recover without victuals.
"No, sir, nor any drink. He never swallowed a mouthful of liquor of any
sort from the time he was hit, until he took the plunge when we threw him
overboard."
Perhaps there is truth in the saying that "misery loves company," for the
eye of Mr. Monday turned towards the table on which the bottle of cordial
still stood, and from John Effingham, had just before helped him to
swallow, under the impression that it was of no moment what he took. The
captain understood the appeal, and influenced by the same opinion
concerning the hopelessness of the patient's condition, besides being
kindly anxious to console him, he poured out a small glass, all of which
he permitted the other to drink. The effect was instantaneous, for it
would seem this treacherous friend is ever to produce a momentary pleasure
as a poor compensation for its lasting pains.
"I don't feel so bad, gentleman," returned the wounded man with a force of
voice that startled his visitors. "I feel better--much better, and am very
glad to see you. Captain Truck, I have the honor to drink your health."
The captain looked at the mate as if he thought their visit was
twenty-four hours too soon, for live, all felt sure, Mr. Monday could not.
But Leach, better placed to observe the countenance of the patient,
whispered his commander that it was merely "a catspaw, and will
not stand."
"I am very glad to see you both, gentlemen," continued Mr. Monday, "and
beg you to help yourselves."
The captain changed his tactics. Finding his patient so strong and
cheerful, he thought consolation would be more easily received just at
that moment, than it might be even half an hour later.
"We are all mortal, Mr. Monday--"
"Yes, sir; all very mortal."
"And even the strongest and boldest ought occasionally to think of their
end."
"Quite true, sir; quite true. The strongest and boldest. When do you think
we shall get in, gentlemen?"
Page 261
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Captain Truck afterwards affirmed that he was "never before taken so flat
aback by a question as by this." Still he extricated himself from the
dilemma with dexterity, the spirit of proselytism apparently arising
within him in proportion as the other manifested indifference to
his offices.
"There is a port to which we are all steering, my dear sir," he said; "and
of which we ought always to bear in mind the landmarks and beacons, and
that port is heaven."
"Yes," answered Mr Leach, "a port that, sooner or later, will fetch us all
up."
Mr. Monday gazed from one to the other, and something like the state of
feeling, from which he had been aroused by the cordial, began to return.
"Do you think me so bad, gentlemen?" he inquired, with a little of the
eagerness of a startled man.
"As bad as one bound direct to so good a place as I hope and trust is the
case with you, can be," returned the captain, determined to follow up the
advantage he had gained. "Your wound, we fear, is mortal, and people
seldom remain long in this wicked world with such sort of hurts."
"If he stands that," thought the captain, "I shall turn him over, at once,
to Mr. Effingham."
Mr. Monday did not stand it. The illusion produced by the liquor, although
the latter still sustained his pulses, had begun to evaporate, and the
melancholy truth resumed its power.
"I believe, indeed, that I am near my end, gentlemen," he said faintly;
and am thankful--for--for this consolation."
"Now will be a good time to throw in the chapter," whispered Leach; "he
seems quite conscious, and very contrite."
Captain Truck, in pure despair, and conscious of his own want of judgment,
had determined to leave the question of the selection of this chapter to
be decided by chance. Perhaps a little of that mysterious dependence on
Providence which renders all men more or less superstitions, influenced
him; and that he hoped a wisdom surpassing his own might direct him to a
choice. Fortunately, the book of Psalms is near the middle of the sacred
volume, and a better disposition of this sublime repository of pious
praise and spiritual wisdom could not have been made; for the
chance-directed peruser of the Bible will perhaps oftener open among its
pages than at any other place.
If we should say that Mr. Monday felt any very profound spiritual relief
from the reading of Captain Truck, we should both overrate the manner of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]