FRED M. I>E WITT 
 
 BOOKHKI.LKH 
 FOfKTKli.NTH ST. 
 

UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 BY 
 
 CHESTER BAILEY FERNALD 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE CAT AND THE CHERUB" 
 AND OTHER STORIES 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THE CENTURY CO. 
 1903 
 
Copyright, 1897, 1898, 1899, 1901, 1902, 
 
 1903, by THE CENTURY Co. 
 Copyright, 1902, by HARPER & BROTHERS 
 
 Published October, 1903 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 1 
 
 THE SPIRIT IN THE PIPE 25 
 
 THE YELLOW BURGEE 39 
 
 THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 63 
 
 A HARD EOAD TO ANDY COGGIN S 89 
 
 CLARENCE S MIND m j 07 
 
 THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 105 
 
 HELP FROM THE HOPELESS . 155 
 
 CLARENCE AT THE BALL .191 
 
 THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS . 213 
 
 A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA .039 
 
 496224 
 
-THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 
 
UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 
 
 ER name was the gunboat Lexington, 
 with sixes in the fore and aft of 
 her, and a row of invidjus pop-guns 
 arrayed in her side. 7 T was a new 
 cruise, and we laid several days 
 waiting word, with the newspapers 
 stirring up wars by the day. First we was bound for 
 China, says they, to pull up the roots of the emperor s 
 pigtail for being a pagan ; and next we was sailing 
 for Samoa, to boulyverse the nigger on its throne ; 
 and the same day they had us running down forty 
 knots an hour to Chile, to blow off the peaks off the 
 Andes, and conquer the country with a file of blue 
 bottle marines. And any of us that was right in his 
 mind give it no thought, the sea being the sea, and 
 wishes crank craft in a gale; but there was two 
 aboard that was cross-eying themselves with their 
 noses in the newspapers, one a boVn s mate named 
 Oliver Peck, which no one would trust him in the 
 shadow of a candle, and the other a pink little lad 
 named Ellerson, that was new to his drill, and home 
 sick as the divil in heaven. T was only a crazy twist 
 
 3 
 
..UNbER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 of good fortune, says they, that would steam us to a 
 place called Corvana ; which I never heard of it be 
 fore, but they said t was the prettiest port south of 
 paradise. It was circumstantial that them two, which 
 distasted each other like oil and water, should wilt 
 for sake of the small spot j and 7 t was me luck to find 
 why. We up for Puget Sound; for the mayor of 
 Corvana was having a party in his back grass-yard, 
 to celebrate the fifth anniversary of the town, and git 
 himself reflected, and the Lexington was to let no 
 foreign power interfere with the Highland fling. 
 
 Then little Ellerson turned flipflops clean round the 
 capstan, and old Peck was that pleased that I seen 
 him smile. But when I drew me first bead on Cor 
 vana I filled it with hard words, for t was three 
 streets and a moth-eaten wharf of a town, that looked 
 like 7 t was robbed from the floor of the sea. But 
 what was gnawing old Peck and young Ellerson was 
 plain : 7 t was a young girl, and I seen her countenance 
 standing on the pier. 
 
 Faith she was something to look at that sweet and 
 true ye could find it in her face ; and little, and trimmed 
 in black, with the scrap of a hanky slung in her belt, 
 and two feet, begad ! like kittens peeping from under 
 a door-step. Her eyes was that baby-blue it made ye 
 think of a fine day at home, no matter where ye lived, 
 and her mouth that inviting ye wished there was 
 more of it. And every time ye looked at her ye 
 looked at her again. And when ye seen the beating 
 of her heart that Ellerson should be first ashore, ye 
 asked yourself, What would she be to that rubber- 
 faced Oliver Peck ? 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 5 
 
 One day would be little Ellerson s liberty, and the 
 next would be Peck s, each steaming up the same 
 street, and never back till the tick of boat-time. And 
 with Peck ashore little Ellerson would be blue as a 
 sounding-lead, and with Ellerson ashore Peck would 
 be ugly as himself. And seeing that the black 
 hearted bo s n s mate had it in for the lad, I laid 
 alongside of little Ellerson, whence many a pleasant 
 cross-parlance we had. Especially would he take his 
 pipe of an evening, and smoke up his thoughts about 
 womenkind, which to him was angels from heaven 
 by virtue of white starch. T was painful and pretty 
 to hear, for every woman that is bad, he would say, 
 is bad because of some evil man with a stovepipe hat, 
 he would say, and none so bad but the spark of saints 
 and martyrs is lurking inside. And I talked to him 
 awkward, for divil an answer I knew when I thought 
 of me female reminiscences in ten different tongues. 
 But he stuck by me close, and would take comfort in 
 it, and Clarence O Shay would set staring at his re 
 marks like a wooden owl. Till one day little Ellerson 
 says, would we be going ashore with him to pay his 
 respects to a fine-looking lady? And we polished 
 ourselves to the occasion. 
 
 T was a little house the big of a horse-car, and the 
 grandmother sat laid up in a wheel-chair, with posies 
 climbing all over the porch. Then Ellerson stood the 
 two of us in a row, and says he : 
 
 " These is me two shipmates. The squat one, with 
 the two little bandy legs, and the look like a mile 
 stone," says he, " is Mr. O Shay ; and the spider-legged 
 one, with, his hands dangling at his knees, is Mr. 
 
C UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 Lannigan Sudden Lannigan, they call him; and 
 together the two invented the tricks of the trade. 
 Consider yourself knocked down to em," says he. 
 
 And with that the young girl hauled off with a 
 broken tea-pot, and give us tea from it with no apolo 
 gies, but her smiles made ye feel at home in your 
 shoes. And Clarence O Shay would be all the time 
 looking at her with his mouth hanging open like a 
 bag, so that I first lacked the parts of speech with me 
 embarrassment at him ; but the girl stood by, and 
 would talk of the sea, which even the name of it 
 scared her. 
 
 " For I hear once," says, she, " that the sea was all 
 sweet as tea, but t was made salt by the sailors wives 
 a- weeping on the shores of it." 
 
 And she would be asking many inquiries, saying, 
 was the Lexington free from sinking qualities, and 
 when was the next war, and how many of us would 
 be killed at the first discharge of our guns ? And I 
 says, have no fear, for the foreign disagreements of 
 Uncle Sam was all in his own living-space which I 
 slapped O Shay between his shoulder-pits to wake 
 from his hypnotism. "It s Heaven s own truth 
 every inch of it!" says he, coming to himself. And 
 on the way I expostulated to him the meaning of it. 
 And when was we going there again ? says he ; but I 
 told him the little girl was Ellerson s. For of Peck 
 she spoke never a word, though Oliver himself was 
 forever praising the charms of her. 
 
 Then come the cogitation of the powers what next 
 to do with the ship j and the Secretary-grandmother 
 of the Navy called in the President to him, and the 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 7 
 
 cabinet, and the Supreme Court, and they all sat 
 screwing their eyebrows on it for ten days, till the 
 old man got his telegraph from Washington, saying, 
 " Go where ye please." Whereby the skipper says to 
 himself, " We 11 take a cargo of time to Alaska," that 
 being the paradise free from statesmen. 
 
 And the day before we sailed I went by request to 
 the little girl. Straight up in the wind she came, 
 with eyes flying red signals, though she tried to 
 smuggle the reason of it. Mr. Ellerson, says she, 
 was such a true friend of the family, says she, and so 
 hard to part with him ! War was coming, says she, 
 for the newspapers said it, though t was not yet de 
 cided who we should fight. And would n t I hold 
 little Ellerson behind me door to protect the enemy 
 from hurting him ? And with that she let loose with 
 her weeping like the breaking of a dike, and I stood 
 shifting me feet and fingering me cap, and saying 
 I m a dom fool, till I laid hold of the parts of speech. 
 
 " I 11 bring him to ye !" then says I, shaking me 
 fist at her. " There s a deal more ink to be spilt than 
 blood," says I; "and most of the fighting is after 
 dark, by them big-head reporter men with glasses." 
 
 u I knowed ye d do it," says she, sopping the tears ; 
 " for it s you that s strong and brave and wise," 
 says she j " and you would n t let him come to harm, 
 would ye ? " 
 
 And I says, not by the chin of St. Patrick would 
 the divil himself harm a hair of his head. And I got 
 under steerageway, badly choked with emotions. 
 
 And when we hove up and begun to show heels to 
 Corvana, there she was, standing on the pier, so 
 
8 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 blasted fine ! Her little pocket doily was swabbing 
 of her eyes one by one, till O Shay filled his pipe with 
 oakum by mistake j and Oliver Peck was waving his 
 fin from the stern ; but her dry light was glued to the 
 forward six, forninst which was leaning little Ellerson, 
 sometimes smiling, sometimes snuffling to himself. I 
 looked along the swash of us, and took me last sight 
 at the little girl waving her hanky the big of a post 
 age-stamp, with the pink setting sun shrinking in its 
 size behind her, and I gulped, and I says to meself, 
 "It 7 s Launigan will bring him home safe and sound 
 to ye, or Lannigan will break a nerve !" 
 
 We lost one man by French leave at Corvana, which 
 give a new station-bill, with Ellerson at Peck s com 
 mand. And at fire-drill I seen Peck working him up, 
 dealing him all the vituperation that should be evenly 
 distributed among the boys. And that night I wig 
 gled me thumb at old Peck, and says I, "Luff, ye 
 beggar, or I 11 expostulate to ye I" 
 
 So that night little Ellerson freed himself about 
 her, and I 7 11 never forget the velvet of his voice with 
 the little girl s name. She was orphan on one side, 
 says he, and on the other her father was lost at sea. 
 Small pence they had, with the grandmother laid up 
 in ordinary and kept afloat by the apothecary; and 
 the one that hauled em out of the mud once or twice, 
 and would take the girl for salvage, was Oliver Peck 
 himself that was husband to her aunt that died. 
 " But for me," the snake would whisper to her, " ye 7 d 
 long been sent to the divil for bread. For the world 
 is that hard, 7 he would say in the ear of the innocent 
 lass, " that no man will lift his hand for ye on respec- 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 9 
 
 table terms no man except me, that will give ye me 
 name and a decent life/ says he. And she, the poor 
 little skiff, was drifting to it, though she d rather 
 charm vipers than look the black Satan of a Peck be 
 tween his eyes. And she grew white, and promised 
 to marry him, when along come little Ellerson. 
 
 From the sight of him, the pink little saint, t was 
 all over with Oliver. First she put in for a stay of 
 proceedings, and then she rose up and would die be 
 fore she d be spliced to him. And Peck swore to 
 her, and says, begad ! he d fix the two of em for 
 doing him out of his own ; and little Ellerson offered 
 to fight him abaft the court-house; but says Peck, 
 " You re a boy." Then it was Ellerson that had the 
 right of line, and she took on weight, and looked like 
 a new-painted posy, when of a sudden Ellerson had 
 lost his billet on the Puget Sound boat; and the 
 marrying must be postponed, with Peck laying off 
 and on, and mentioning himself again, being softy, 
 and saying t was a child s fascination she had for the 
 lad, no doubt; that must now enlist for want of a 
 job. And Peck made the young greenhorn take 
 money for reaching Mare Island to present himself, 
 which divil knows how, but he paid it back from his 
 first two months, though the obligation left him un 
 comfortable close with one that hated him. 
 
 And when the Lexington dropped into Corvana it 
 was several months gone by. The little girl met him 
 with the eyes of long nights awake, and says she, 
 "I 11 not be promised to ye no longer, for I 11 not 
 load ye with one that has nothing, and could only be 
 a weight to your spirits," says she, " and maybe would 
 
UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 make a poor wife anyway." And first little Ellerson 
 kissed her, and then mildly he cussed her, and then 
 he kissed her again j but not an inch would she be 
 budging, saying only that Peck she would not marry, 
 and saying no more. But when the last parting come, 
 she up and kissed him smack on his forehead, and 
 give him a push in the chest, and run in and slammed 
 the door in his face and by this he took main reli 
 ance in favor of her loving him, though he was doubt 
 ful if whether she would n t have kissed him in his 
 mouth if so, and would wonder if maybe she had n t 
 aimed at his mouth anyway, but missed it by firing 
 too soon at the wrong elevation. Then, in a while, 
 the lad was afraid the girl might tire of life and so 
 marry old Peck, and his mouth hauled down with 
 every turn of the screw. For he says how Peck had 
 beseeched her every day at Corvana, and how now, 
 when she followed the ship to Seattle by rail, old Peck 
 would easy git ashore for his being petty officer s mate, 
 though for Ellerson t would be hard, since the ship 
 would only lay to for twenty-four hours the time it 
 takes a navy officer to telegraph his last ten words to 
 the Department. But I says to him, " Ye 11 go ashore 
 by accident " ; for I knowed old Peck would be pre 
 varicating himself to freedom, which he did. 
 
 T was a smoke-fog night on the Sound, and the sun 
 went below looking the color of an amber mouth 
 piece, and then come dry blackness without a drop 
 of dew on a hand-rail ; and if ye put your hand out 
 ten feet before ye t was invisible. From a boatman 
 I chartered a bit of a soap-box, and at the right time 
 I sent little Ellerson by the board, with instructions 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 11 
 
 to keep his head inside of his box till it floated from 
 sight. And he went. I can hear him this minute, 
 with his eager young smile looking in me ear. " God 
 bless ye, old man !" says he ; " t was Heaven sent ye 
 to be me friend." And with that he dropped away 
 soft in the tide, swimming with his head in the box, 
 like the man in front of the stage at the opera. He 
 went off diagonizing toward the shore, and I knowed 
 in an hour the little girl would be weeping on his collar. 
 And scarce had the fog swallowed him when off 
 come the launch, with old Peck smiling satisfied to 
 himself, and he walked about for ard, wishing Eller- 
 son would see him in his content ; and he would be 
 all the time singing to himself a heaving lay, which 
 the sound of it is photographed on me mind as though 
 with a chisel : 
 
 He had a wife at Callao, 
 
 At Rio dee Janeerio, 
 
 At Rotterdam and Tokio, 
 
 At Cairo, Cannes, and Malta. 
 
 A wife he had at Killisnoo, 
 
 At Singapore and Sebeeroo, 
 
 At Mozambique and Timbuctoo, 
 
 At Boston and Gibraltar. 
 
 A single-hearted man was lie; 
 You need not speak of bigaim e; 
 Because his wife was Rosylie, 
 And she sailed with him on the sea. 
 
 And at eight bells he went on duty aft, and I stowed 
 meself in the dark near him, at risk of reprimand for 
 being there off watch. " Where s Ellerson?" says 
 Peck. " Gone ashore in imitation of a cake of soap," 
 
12 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 says I j " and the one that peaches on him will settle 
 with me and with the ancestors that s left behind 
 me!" Then old Peck dropped his humming, and 
 gripped the chain-rail till it creaked, and I heard the 
 profanation escaping from him like the after-gas from 
 a rifle ; and in a minute says he, " Ye 11 be sorry some 
 day for putting your nose in places that don t fit it." 
 And says I, " 1 11 operate me own nose." And he said 
 no more, though we waited four hours in the dark ; 
 but the black snake was conniving in his heart. 
 
 T was near midnight when I heard little Ellerson s 
 whistle floating on the tide, and the navigator that 
 was officer of the deck that night was getting ready 
 to be relieved, and would be going to fondle his charts, 
 being a crank fresh from the Hydrygravic Office. I 
 leaned over and give a sneeze, which was the counter 
 sign between me and Ellerson ; but then Oliver Peck 
 worked his trick on me. " There s an incandescent 
 lamp died last night, in the chart-house, sir," says he j 
 " and the man with the store-room key is in his ham- 
 mick, sir." And the navigator says, " Then send one 
 to wake him up and git a new lamp," which Peck 
 turned to me, as being his support there by rights, and 
 says, " Git the lamp," and I hurried to do it, having 
 no choice, for Peck had the call on me. But I would 
 not rob the sleep of the carpenter s mate, robbing 
 instead the nearest lamp-cage between decks j and I 
 says to meself, " Ye misunderstood the order, and ye 
 thought t was for the captain s smoking-room." And 
 so with the lamp I made a dive for that place, which 
 was a bit of a coop in her stern-frames, and by mid 
 night the quietest place aboard. The ports was too 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITE A 13 
 
 small for me head. But I heard the loud whisper of 
 little Ellerson, that thought it was me, though t was 
 Peck, leaning over above. 
 
 "Hurrah!" says the lad; "she s mine!" says he. 
 " We 11 be spliced next year, and take the chances of 
 life together. And it s you, old man, that s to blame 
 for me good luck!" 
 
 And then says Peck, with a voice like a stone, " I 
 did n t know it. Maybe ye think I m Sudd Lanni- 
 gan !" and the lad in the water give an " Oh !" with 
 confusion that ye could hear it in the dark. " Bring 
 along the box as ye come," says Peck, growling ; " I d 
 be going ashore that way meself. Take a stiff hand 
 on it, now !" says he, throwing him the halyard end. 
 And I heard him hard hauling it in over the scupper, 
 and his grunting, and the dripping of the soap-box in 
 the dark, and I says to meself, little Ellerson was being 
 hoisted aboard, box and all. And then I thought of 
 meself, and made out from the smoking-room in me 
 stocking-feet ; and as I went I seen Ellerson s leg swing 
 by the port, with the box tied to his toe, and the next 
 second I heard a splash in the water, as of the box, 
 and I says to meself, little Ellerson had fooled him, 
 and glad I was. 
 
 I put me lamp in its place in the chart-house in the 
 nick of time, and I went for ard, looking for Ellerson. 
 But his hammick was yet in its place in the berthing, 
 and I seen no signs of him, and I hunted the living- 
 space through, and the platforms, and every place that 
 would hold him. Then I tumbled up again, and made 
 me way, at the risk of reprimand, back to the poop. 
 "Where is he?" says I to Peck, that was standing 
 
14 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 handhold to the rail. " Where is who?" says Peck, 
 giving a jump because I come upon him barefoot, and 
 looking ready to deal me one. " The lad, of course," 
 says I. "How do I know where he is?" says Peck, 
 in a way that was new to him. "Am I detailed to 
 nestle him ?" says he, jerking it out ; and I stood look 
 ing at him, steaming with the lust of smashing his 
 head. " The boy just passed forward," then says Peck, 
 looking at the deck ; " and he talked of getting his 
 coin and slipping his cable. I suppose he s swum 
 ashore by this. Now leave me alone, man/ 7 says Peck j 
 " for I >m off me feed this night I" 
 
 And I trotted back and searched for the boy once 
 more in every place a man could fit, living or dead j and 
 a whirling set up in me head, for there was divil a sign 
 of him, and his coin still in the toe of his boot in his 
 bag. Then I set down to reason, being frightened at 
 the conundrum of it, and me eyes sticking out of me 
 head. " Bad bad it smells !" says I to meself ; " for 
 ye heard his whistle, and ye seen his head floating back 
 invisible, and then ye heard his voice, and seen his 
 foot with it tied to the box j then ye heard a splash ! 
 Ah, ye blithering fool !" I yelled to meself, in a whis 
 per ; " if he come aboard at all he was wet to his skin 
 with water, and tracks of him is plain on the deck ! 
 And if not, then what was the splash ? " Then I rose 
 in the air, and charged with all me feet for the poop 
 of her, no matter what officer stood in me way, but 
 only praying me legs to git there, with me breath 
 playing tricks and me heart between me teeth ; but 
 the deck stuck to me soles like fly-paper. "Ye 11 
 never git there at all !" says I to meself, with groans, 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 15 
 
 and I let out me full contents of imprecation. And 
 as I come thundering over the ladder to the poop I 
 seen a vision in the middle of the dark astern of her, 
 I seen a dear little lass trimmed all in black, with a 
 little white hanky flying from her fingers; and she 
 stood on the pier, and grew smaller and smaller till 
 she was ten thousand miles away ; and I heard her 
 voice saying in me ear acrost the water, " It s you 
 that s strong and brave and wise, and you would n t 
 let him come to harm, ivould ye ? " Me insides give 
 way. I dropped on me knees by the flag-staff, feeling 
 and feeling for just one drop of water. And I let out 
 a yell. The planks was dry as a stone. "I m a dom 
 fool !" says I ; " a dom dom fool !" I howled, breaking 
 with tears, and slamming me head on the deck. Then 
 two blue-breeches came running, and hauled me away 
 to the prison abaft the sick-bay. And me next dis 
 tinct recollection I never knowed. 
 
 WHEN I come to meself I was sitting on the capstan, 
 and the ship lagging along between terra firma and 
 Vancouver s Island. And Clarence O Shay says to 
 me, " I m detailed to watch that ye do no harm to the 
 bo s n s mate. For some says ye ve been bit by a 
 water-dog and have hydrophobia ; and some says ye Ve 
 gone crazy, and your intelligence loose and dangling 
 inside of ye. And now," says he, " if you re crazy, 
 out with it and say so between friends," says he j 
 " and if not I 11 smoke me pipe." 
 
 I seen a ring around the paymaster s clerk auction 
 eering off the kit of a blue-jacket. " T is another 
 deserter," says O Shay: "little Ellerson, that Peck 
 
1C UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 says jumped off the bill-boards last night." And I 
 seen little Ellerson s white uniform hanging up, with 
 " D. D. E." on it in stencil. " T is D. D. he is now !" 
 says I to meself , and I gulped and went below j and I 
 sent O Shay to buy what was left, which it cost me 
 double for O Shay s bidding so stubborn ag in himself. 
 In a week, by easy stops, the ship set down for a 
 stay at Sitka, in a fine berth abreast the Ranch. Never 
 a word did I say to old Peck all that time, for he kept 
 the whites of his eyes to himself, and I seen his face 
 change like a tree in the fall ; for he loaded up with 
 Victoria smuggle at Killisnoo, and was half seas over 
 the rest of the time, yet taking but small content in 
 his liquor. And him, that was celebrated for keeping 
 his own company, would now be asking to go along 
 with the boys, spearing salmon with em, and fishing 
 for Siwash girls in the Ranch and it looked that he 
 was afraid to be alone with himself, as though he was 
 scared he would say something to himself if he got 
 the chance. One day I come acrost him behind his 
 back in the copper-green Grecian church, bowing his 
 head before the blessed Virgin, and he give a start as 
 though stabbed, and coughed himself red for his fool 
 ishness ; till by and by he took with a Siwash girl, and 
 would be spending his time and wages on her, to the 
 comment of the place. T was by this he twice over 
 stayed his liberty, and was deprived for it, and went 
 profaning to himself, with me eyes fastened on him 
 trying to see him through. And not one of them days 
 but I asked meself, could it be any way that little El- 
 lerson had slipped the ship without coming aboard, 
 and could he be still living ? And not a night but I 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 17 
 
 seen in me dreams the little girl standing on the pier, 
 and asking me the same question with me snuffling 
 in me sleep till they says, " Sudd Lannigan is plumb 
 in the day, but crazy by midnight." And I says to 
 meself , Would one man murder another and live along 
 and along, and never pay for it, by virtue of no one 
 to prove it, with little Ellerson s body floating boot 
 up to a soap-box, and so never observed? And me 
 memory was gnawing me vitals, and the diviFs own 
 downheartedness stewing in me mind. 
 
 T was the third time old Peck overstayed, and was 
 deprived for it two days when he ached hard to meet 
 his Siwash, that I seen a red petticoat waving in the 
 afternoon from the little island next Japonski. And 
 I seen a note carried ashore for him, and I says, some 
 thing 7 s up. Then me fate took me in its two hands 
 and held me aboard, though I had full leave to go 
 where I pleased ; and I stowed meself barefoot in the 
 curl of the anchor, pretending to smoke to meself. 
 The moon was darting zigzag among the clouds, with 
 Oliver Peck eying it with hard looks from near by. I 
 peeped over the side, and seen a canoe dropping down 
 in the tide, held by a long line from another behind it. 
 Then Peck laid down by the edge, and in a minute the 
 dugout fouled the anchor-chain, and he rolled over 
 the side and went down the chain. And when he 
 turned round he seen another man with him, arid it 
 was me j and never a word had I spoke to him up to 
 this since we left Seattle. 
 
 First he looked hard in the dark to make me out, 
 and I grabbed the paddle and helped the tide, with 
 him groping in the bottom for another, which there 
 
18 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 was none. And with one hand I hauled in the long 
 line and fastened the end of it to the anchor- stone. 
 The moon give a peep out, and says he suddenly, 
 " T is you, Sudd Lannigan !" And says I, " ? T is you, 
 Oliver Peck !" 
 
 "Where do we be going at?" says he. 
 
 " Divil I know," says I. 
 
 " It ain t your hand, then," says he, " that s han 
 dling that paddle ? " 
 
 " No," says I ; " t is the hand of God." 
 
 And says he, "What may that mean?" 
 
 " Divil I know," says I, paddling fast. I knowed 
 he was staring at me in the dark, conniving as cool as 
 his thoughts would let him. 
 
 " T is a fine boat behind ye," says he, pointing to 
 the excursion steamer from Puget Sound that lay at 
 the pier. There was lights and music and dancing 
 aboard of her, and a handsome sight she was ; and I 
 never turned me head. 
 
 " T is strange you re not aboard, dancing with the 
 swells," says he, in a minute, with a sneer. 
 
 " Not so/ says I ; " for I loaned me claw-hammer to 
 the Prince of Monte Carlo, and he never give it back." 
 
 " Ha, ha !" says Peck, laughing as though he was 
 paid for it; "ye ve a fine stowage of wit, Lannigan, 
 and it s an accomplished man ye are !" 
 
 "True," says I, "for I can play l Yankee Doodle 
 with one hand, and listen to * God Save the Queen 
 with me other ear." 
 
 Then he held his mouth, and I kept paddling, say 
 ing never a word, but watching him take points on 
 the island toward where we was headed, doubtful in 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 19 
 
 the dark as to which one it was. And in ten minutes 
 we breasted a jut of rock and pines, and heard a female 
 voice hail us with " Klalioiv yah ! " And says Peck : 
 
 " 7 T is right in here 1 11 be going ashore, thank ye." 
 
 But I looked at him, and paddled steady, with never 
 a word. 
 
 " Right in here, man !" says he, loud enough, and 
 the wish to deal me one breaking in his voice. 
 
 But I kept her headed where she was, and the tide 
 took us rushing by the point, and Oliver let out a 
 swear. 
 
 "Look here, Lannigan," says he; "I m a mild- 
 mannered man 1 7 m a good-natured man ; but there s 
 an end to trifling; and I 11 be going ashore on that 
 island, and that s all of it see?" says he, with a 
 strain of his voice. 
 
 But never a word I said. And his hand dropped 
 on the gun le, and he took again to conniving. The 
 tide was galloping with the wind in its rear, and the 
 dugout humming betwixt one island and another till 
 the lights of Sitka disappeared, and by a few easy 
 twists of her prow I lost him his bearings. The cedars 
 grew black down to the sea, with their feet on the 
 rocks that swashed with the breakers, and dense they 
 was, like a wall that shut ye away from time. Peck 
 leaned over and scanned the shore, where the water 
 was a hundred feet sheer, and by moonlight I seen 
 the sweat on his face and the look as of one counting 
 his chances. 
 
 " 7 T is this island," says I, " where a man starved to 
 death, near in plain sight of Sitka." 
 
 And he thought a minute, and says he : " And t is 
 
20 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 here, I believe, that one man knocked the other from 
 the dugout, and drownded him, and then went where 
 he dom d pleased." 
 
 " Indeed? 77 says I, paddling past it. "And which 
 of the two was it ? " 
 
 Which Peck made no reply 5 but I seen the inside 
 of him as though he was glass, with the hate and the 
 divil-craft surging in his heart like the bilge in a pump. 
 I rounded a point, and turned up an arm of the sea, 
 with the water laying dim for two miles beyond us, 
 and the high mountains towering on top of us, like 
 ye might have been ten thousand miles from the his 
 tory of man. T was that still ye could hear the lap 
 ping of the water on the shore, though the wind was 
 stopped by the point, and the place laid as smooth as 
 a table. And when a loon flew over us, and give a 
 shout with his fright, ye could hear the shout bounce 
 back from the heart of the trees like the laughter of 
 fifty jimpawzees, till Oliver Peck coughed to cheer 
 himself with the sound of his voice, and then was 
 scared by its echo. And I steered up in the darkness 
 twenty feet from the shore of the wilderness, till the 
 trees shut out the moon and most of the sky. 
 
 " Ha, ha !" says Peck, of a sudden ; " it s a fine ex 
 cursion we re having ! And so let it go at that, and 
 no malice between us, for I never felt that gay as this 
 minute ! I could kill and eat two species of the human 
 race ! Show me a man that 7 s looking for trouble, 
 will ye, Lannigan ? " 
 
 And in the middle of it come a long howl of a she- 
 bear that had lost her cub a howl like the last despair. 
 
 "What s that?" says he, gripping the gunle. 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 21 
 
 "Hark!" says I, dropping the paddle; " tis the 
 voice of a hand that s laid hold of the bottom of us ! 
 Hark!" says I. And I leaned over the stern and 
 dropped the anchor-stone without his knowing it, and 
 the she-bear let out another howl, like t was in the 
 air forninst us. 
 
 " Paddle, man paddle !" says Peck, with his tongue 
 sticking to his lips. " This is no place" 
 
 " Hark !" says I j " t is a voice walking on the bot 
 tom ! Listen, listen ! T is little Ellerson. < Eller- 
 son, Ellerson, Ellerson P it says. And then, l Peck, 
 Peck, Oliver Peck ! What does it mean f " says I. 
 
 "What s that to me?" says Peck, like a cur in a 
 corner. " What s it to me ? I ve no relations with 
 him. He run off at Seattle j he took off to be deceiv 
 ing the woman that promised to marry me. What 
 are ye looking at me for? You re crazy !" 
 
 And he seized the paddle and worked it like wild, 
 sending the spray all over us. But we stayed stuck 
 and fast, for we was anchored. And the howling of 
 the she-bearlong, squealing, and divilish it was, like 
 the ghost of a sick locomotive lost in the hills the 
 howling of it made him bend to it, to the broiling of 
 his wits. 
 
 " What is it ? What is it ? " says he, with the beads 
 on his brow. 
 
 " T is Ellerson," says I. " T is Ellerson saying he 
 wants you. He says he wants the man that stove his 
 head in and dropped him overboard to drown. What 
 does it mean, man ? " says I. " Who stove his head 
 in? Was it you, ye white-livered snake?" says I, 
 crawling at him. And I seen in the dark his hands 
 
22 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 go over his head, stripping the lanyard of his jack- 
 knife. " Was it you that robbed him from the little 
 girl standing on the pier?" says I. "He s down at 
 the bottom," says I, darting me thumb at the side ; 
 " and he says t was you that took his life !" 
 
 " Go tell him t is true, then !" says Peck, with a yell 
 like a savage. " That for ye !" says he. 
 
 And he made a swing at me with the paddle, which 
 it broke to splinters on me arm ; and I give a duck, 
 and the canoe overturned, and we dropped in the ice- 
 water, hugging like brothers, with the sea absorbing 
 the profanity of it, and then the top of the water rising 
 above us in bubbles, and divil a sound. For we was 
 forty feet below, with the sandy bottom roiling under 
 our toes, while we carved with knives. And the busi 
 ness me and Peck had together was transacted then 
 and there, for I rose up flabbergasting round the water 
 a bit, and then laid hold of the bottom of the canoe, 
 with the moon looking on it as peaceful as a garden, 
 when I heard a small sound, and I looked down in the 
 water, and I seen something bubbling up from below. 
 
 7 T was his soul. And the moon went behind its 
 clouds, and I set and thought. 
 
 DIVIL a word I said to meself till I seen the lights of 
 Sitka. The dugout I righted; but the paddle had 
 gone by the board, and t was two hours of swimming 
 with it ahead of me, in a dead calm, before the tide 
 took a hand and let me steer with me feet, with the 
 prow of the boat stuck high in the air. I seen the 
 lights of Sitka reflected in the still water for four 
 miles, all the lights from the houses and the swell 
 
THE LIGHTS OF SITKA 23 
 
 steamer, and the beacon on Baranoff Castle, and the 
 light from the Mission of Christ, and every one of 
 them was pointing straight at me. 
 
 "Ye killed a man!" says they. "Look at ye ye 
 killed a man !" 
 
 "Aye," says I, "and small consolation. For it 
 won t bring him back to her," says I. " She 7 s stand 
 ing on the pier there, trimmed all in black, with a 
 little white hanky slung in her belt. And she s 
 waving her hand to me; and I hear her speaking 
 acrost the waters with a voice that breaks in two at 
 each word, and, 1 1 m waiting, 1 m waiting ! she says ; 
 for it s you that s strong and brave and wise, and 
 you would n t let him come to harm, would ye ? " 
 
 " And ye killed a man !" says the lights of Sitka. 
 
 " Yes, and I did," says I ; " but it won t bring back 
 little Ellerson, and she 11 never see him again till the 
 coming of Judgment Day, and the Squaring of the 
 Log." 
 
 CLARENCE O SHAY was sitting for ard, his feet em 
 bracing the jack-staff, and his pipe smoking in his 
 teeth. 
 
 " Hair and hide of ye is wet to the skin," says he, 
 as I laid me hand on her bow, with the moon white- 
 shining as innocent as a maid. " And your bugle s 
 broke, and a bloody stab on the shoulder, and your 
 pants one leg flapping in the wind. What s the an 
 swer to it?" 
 
 " One of me legs mutinied," says I, " and I brung 
 it aboard by force. And the Lord have mercy on me 
 soul !" 
 
THE SPIRIT IN THE PIPE 
 
THE SPIRIT IN THE PIPE 1 
 
 was under the jack-staff he said 
 these things, where the chain-rails 
 meet and the stem sinks forward 
 into the sea. The other men were 
 sprawling barefoot on the deck, ut 
 tering fumes of navy plug to the Car 
 ibbean air. The lights at the signal-top hove slowly 
 up and down against the stars. 
 
 CAPTAIN SILAS FARRAGUT TARRANT, U. S. N., owned 
 a farm whereon was a barn wherein was a horse over 
 which was a room where slept a little red Irishman 
 Clarence O Shay who loved . both the pipe and the 
 jug. Which I say no word ag in him, but one night 
 the rum rose up in O Shay and the coals dropped out 
 of his pipe aflame on the straw of his bed, and the barn 
 burnt down and the horse burnt up. 
 
 And Clarence O Shay ran that fast away from the 
 blaze that when the Captain had him up on charge of 
 cruelty to a beast and arsony to a barn, Clarence come 
 into court with an alibi ; whereby the jury acquit him 
 of arsony, by that he could n t have possibly been at 
 the barn at the time j and fined him twenty dollars 
 for cruelty to a beast because at such time he ought 
 to have been at the barn. 
 
 i Reprinted from "The Cat and the Cherub " to complete this volume. 
 27 
 
28 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 And the Captain, as some say to make amends for 
 the charge found false, or as others say to git O Shay 
 before an impudent cocked-hat court some day, instid 
 of a civil one, got an enlistment for O Shay as a second- 
 class blue- jacket in the navy, and then straightway 
 forgot of him. For the Captain was busy with trad 
 ing of his hot-skotched farm and with having his rich 
 wife s relations tickle the administration to git him a 
 fine command. 
 
 And they fixed it to shove aside the one that should 
 have it and give old Tarrant command of the battle 
 ship Utah, U. S. N., a. brand-new grand machine of 
 war of thirteen thousand ton by specification and four 
 teen thousand by fact, they say j she had a whole grove 
 of funnels and military tops and wicked rifles point 
 ing every what way. And the Captain come aboard 
 of her and hoisted his pennant and declared she was 
 in commission. But t was three months before he 
 had her ready to commit anything but lying forninst 
 the pier. 
 
 Well, Clarence O Shay, going his way, was sent to 
 a big fat wooden receiving-shipone of the war of 
 1812. That s where I see him first. A square, short, 
 squat, raw squab he was, with brick-colored fur and 
 a jaw like the end of a box; and his shanks was 
 twisted like andirons legs. There was two or three 
 hundred aboard, some recruits like him, and some 
 with their hides tanned with experience, like me. 
 
 The officers took him and put him through the set 
 ting-up exercises day by day, till his shoulder-blades 
 ground the skin of his back between him and the beads 
 stood out on his brow, and they had him straightened j 
 
THE SPIEIT IN THE PIPE 29 
 
 and they swore at him till they filled him with respect ; 
 and they taught him the evil end of a gun, and a notion 
 of standing in line and counting fours and drilling 
 with the rest of the tarriers ; and I learned him how 
 to swing to his hammick without kicking all four of 
 his neighbors out of bed j and he got the gift of it in 
 three months, and no credit to his stupidity. 
 
 And when we made part of a draft of fifty to fill 
 out the Utah I took him under me wing and showed 
 him how to smuggle his jug in the broad light of day 
 past the searching sergeant of marines j and he took 
 to that handily . But oh, a real man-o -war was a 
 wildering bedazzlement to him ! ? T was cross-eying 
 to him ! Such that he spent the deal of his time a-f all- 
 ing through coal-holes and hatches and ladderways, 
 all by mistake, that green he was, and making 
 friends everywhere in the bowels of the ship by it, 
 with telling how once he had risked his life to save 
 the Captain s horse from being dry-smoked. 
 
 So I took him a walk to rub off his luster. I 
 showed him the air-pumps and steam-pumps and hand- 
 pumps and hydraulicky-pumps, and the fan-gear and 
 tiller-gear and turning-gear ; and condinsers and ice- 
 makers and forty small engines here and there ; with 
 the winches and capstans and dynamos, and ash-hoists 
 and shot-lifts and railways, and deck-plates and hand- 
 wheels, and water-tight doors and holds and bottoms 
 me telling him what each and every one was for. 
 And I expostulated to him how the green-flanged red- 
 painted pipe overhead carried water, and the yellow- 
 flanged blue pipe carried steam from the donkey, and 
 the black-flanged gray pipe carried pressed air, and 
 
30 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 the red-flanged green pipe carried hydraulicky, and 
 the speaking-tube pipe, painted yellow, took whispers 
 all over the ship ; and I showed him twenty flush 
 hatches and started to tell him what each one was for. 
 But O Shay took to drink saying that Heaven would 
 forgive him. 
 
 And he nursed his jug till he emptied it and that 
 with all stragglers aboard and us lying in the lower 
 harbor with every one sobering for a cruise ! And he 
 laid down on the tank- tops and sung : 
 
 I d rather be right than Prisident ! 
 I ; d rather be boggled than right, bedad ! 
 Pop ! goes the goozle ! 
 
 and such profanity. And when I asked him to brace 
 up his back and temper his voice to the regulations 
 he said he was too busy with his joy. And I begged 
 him and begged him for fear of court martial to 
 straighten himself but in vain; and when I spilled 
 a bucket of brine on his head he said he was tight- 
 tight water-tight; and he asked if I was a blue bag 
 pipe with red fringes that obvious to his surround 
 ings he was ; and when I give him me boot in his ribs 
 he laughed with joy and said >t was the pleasantest 
 sensatio:i in the history of man. 
 
 And so for fear of his court martial for smuggling 
 his jug I lifted a manhole door and doubled him up 
 and stuffed him down between the inner and outer 
 skins of the ship t was a space not three feet in the 
 clear ; and I closed him in with a light to sleep by and 
 screwed down the nuts on the door hard and fast. 
 And the last command I heard him say was to lower 
 
THE SPIRIT IN THE PIPE 31 
 
 no more blasted coffins there, but to leave him in the 
 gentlemanly enjoyment of his tomb. 
 
 Well, I hauled off and forgot of him. For I see by 
 the signs that the ship was to crawl away by moon 
 light, and me to serve me lick at the wheel at midnight. 
 So I hove to and snored in me hammick between me 
 favorite beams. And there was little Clarence, forty 
 feet below, lying boxed up on the hard cement of her 
 outside bottom, with her inner bottom for his sky, 
 not two feet above his nose, and his feet ag in her ver 
 tical keel and his head bang up ag in another vertical 
 plate called a longitudinal. For, ye see, a steel man- 
 o -war s shell is built on the cellulose system as 
 though ye should cut off one story of an empty honey 
 comb and bend it to the shape of a ship s bottom j and 
 this was one of the cells which six of em made a com 
 partment on the Utah. And ye could crawl from one 
 of the six to another by virtue of holes in the upright 
 plates j but beyond the six of the compartment ye 
 could n t go without tearing through a twelve-pound 
 plate, unless by the manhole door, which was screwed 
 down tight above Clarence s head. 
 
 But O Shay laid absorbing the flavor of his drink 
 long past when old Tarrant come aboard from a cham 
 pagne goozle, two thirds content with the universe 
 and placing main reliance on his executive officer. 
 The Captain ordered the Utah under way and tumbled 
 into his bunk j and I heard the anchor hauling itself 
 in over the windlass and the engines begin to go bump 
 bump, bump bump, and I knew in me sleep we 
 was off hunting for bad weather for a sea-test. 
 
 Then by and by, down below, O Shay half waked in 
 
32 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 his sleep and inquired the time of day, and no one 
 answered him nothing but the stamping of the old 
 double-harnessed elephants of engines two hundred 
 feet abaft of him. And he laid on his back with the 
 electric hand-light at his side, gazing up at the black 
 manhole door, and by inches he partly come to him 
 selfseeing above him and below him and all around 
 him nothing but cold red iron walls and hearing the 
 hard pounding of something not very far off, he did n t 
 know what. And then a cold shiver chased itself all 
 over him, for the thought of his being buried alive in 
 an iron casket that way. "Begad," he says, "I 
 remember now I died with only a boot in the ribs for 
 me absolution," he says, " and, begad, I hear the tread 
 of the twelve apostles plain as day !" And with that 
 he drew in a breath like a wheezy cylinder and let out 
 a howl to em for a stay of proceedings on his soul ; 
 but he might as well have been a rat a-drownding in 
 the bilge ; for the twelve apostles kept on treading, 
 treading, bump, bump, never no farther and never 
 no nearer keeping step all the time as if they was 
 walking in a circle round him, enjoying the fun of it. 
 And he give a shriek and tried to jump up, but the 
 iron skin struck his head and knocked him down, and 
 he saw a hole that let into the next cell, and he crawled 
 through it like a wild snake, dragging the light and 
 leaving his wits and pieces of his breeches behind him, 
 first praying and begging of the apostles, and then 
 a-swearing at em, and then a-cursing of the Captain s 
 horse for burning up and leaving him to be buried 
 alive at sea, and all the time crawling and howling 
 and cold-sweating till he crawled through the six cells 
 
THE SPIRIT IN THE PIPE 33 
 
 back again to the first ; and lie laid down on his face 
 and weep with distaste of it. 
 
 When his tears was spent he found that his hand 
 was grasping of a pipe. And seeing it was painted 
 yellow, O Shay come to himself a bit, and remembered 
 what t was, for sure. For, ye see, the speaking-tube 
 pipes in the Utah was led down through the inner 
 bottom to keep em safe from splinters and shell j and 
 this happened to be the one that went forward from 
 the Captain s bunk the same I showed him in the 
 pilot-house, with telling him if he was captain he could 
 speak with me through it. And O Shay took out his 
 grandfather s knife, with the file in it, and sawed away 
 at the brass pipe to make a hole in it ; and he recol 
 lected the flask in his pocket and took comfort by 
 that; and he filed like a good one, and emptied the 
 flask, and soon he had a hole in the pipe as big as a 
 dollar j and he put his big mouth to it and says : " Phe- 
 euw !" with a breath that blowed the brass filings a- 
 jingling for yards abaft. And the automatic mouth 
 piece aft in the Captain s cabin t was nigh on to 
 midnight and the same like mouthpiece for ard in 
 the pilot-house, both whistled to wake the dead. For, 
 ye see, Clarence, being in the middle, was establishing 
 himself with both ends of it though he had no 
 thoughts but of me. And the quartermaster s mate 
 in the pilot-house jumped to the mouthpiece and 
 whispered : " Yessir." And in the cabin old Tarrant, 
 waked up from his champagne doze by the hiss in his 
 ear, took up the mouthpiece that hung by a flexible 
 tube from the sheathing, and says with impatience : 
 " Well, sir ? " Which neither of em heard the other j 
 
34 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 but O Shay, down below, hearing their voices associ 
 ating together, shouts : " Come and unlock me, ye 
 blasted idiot !" And the quartermaster s mate, think 
 ing old Tarrant was locked in his state-room, says : 
 " Yessir !" and charged horse and foot along the deck 
 toward the cabins. And old Tarrant, at hearing such 
 marvelous insubordination shouted to him by some 
 one at the other end of the tube, shot up from his bunk 
 like a mortar. "Ye re under arrest!" says he, 
 through the mouthpiece. " Go tell the master-at- 
 arms to lock ye up !" says he. And O Shay, thinking 
 it was me, shook his fist at the hole in the pipe, and 
 bawls in old Tarrant s ear : " Under arrest, is it ? I m 
 ten miles under dry land !" says he. " Come lemme 
 out or I 11 make a corpse of ye that can t walk the 
 streets of heaven in decency!" And with hearing 
 that blasphemy the Captain leapt over and pushed a 
 bell, and his Scandinavian blockhead of a private-of- 
 marines-orderly come in. "Arrest that man in the 
 pilot-house, ye numskull !" orders the Captain. 
 
 And the private-orderly-numskull lit out for the 
 pilot-house, running to split his tight blue robin s-egg 
 breeches ; and he meets the quartermaster s mate run 
 ning and asking : " What s the matter with the skip 
 per?" and says the orderly: "What s the matter at 
 the pilot-house ? " and they both went on without an 
 swering each other. And the mate burst into the 
 Captain s state-room, saying eagerly: "Did ye want 
 help, sir?" "Help, ye fool!" roars the Captain. 
 "Who said it? Do I want help to put on me trou 
 sers? You re under arrest, too, sir! Go tell the 
 orderly to arrest ye despite yer resistance !" he says, 
 
THE SPIRIT IN THE PIPE 35 
 
 or something like it. " I 11 see if there s mutiny 
 aboard this craft/ 7 says old Tarrant, putting his feet 
 into the sleeves of his dress-coat by mistake, and 
 howling in a voice to wake the dead and half the ward 
 room officers : " Call the officer of the deck ! Pilot 
 house there," he says through the mouthpiece, leaning 
 over his bunk, " send aft the officer of the deck !" 
 And O Shay, down below, thinking it was me, bellers 
 back : " 1 11 send ye aft the twist of me thumb in yer 
 eye," he says ; " come down and lemme out or I 11 
 come up and make a horse-meat sausage of ye !" And 
 about that time I began to hear em in extraordinary 
 expeditions on deck, and the orderly hollerin to split 
 himself, and the m aster- at-arms running steeple 
 chases, and I says to meself it s time to spill. 
 
 And from the hatchway I noticed there was no officer 
 on the bridge, so I reconnoitered the man at the wheel 
 the one I come up to be standing by to relieve. 
 " The matter ? " says he, shifting his quid and staring 
 straight on in her course t was a bright moonlight 
 night, ten miles off Sandy Hook. " There s the divil 
 to pay and no pitch hot," he says. " Just listen to the 
 old man talking in his drink through the voice-pipe !" 
 And I took the mouthpiece and heard a voice saying: 
 " I warn ye ; if me soul leaves me body I 11 come up 
 at ye through the pipe, I will ! I 11 stick yer heart 
 that full of holes as a strawberry !" he says. " Me 
 naked spirit 11 sit on yer ear," he says, " like a bar 
 nacle on a clam talking to ye till the end of time !" 
 he says, " and longer, begad !" 
 
 And me heart moved two inches to one side, for I 
 knowed t was O Shay that was bringing the whole 
 
36 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 ship s company to its feet with the belief that old 
 Tan-ant had gone daft with his drink. I could hear 
 manding and countermanding from stem to stern of 
 her. With that I grabbed a gallon of valve-oil from 
 the floor of the pilot-house and dumped it quick down 
 the pipe, and polished off the mouthpiece with me 
 sleeve. And I tumbled below, for I had but five 
 minutes to git O Shay and save his neck from court 
 martial ; and I knew the oil would only stop him till 
 he could spit it out and draw his breath. For luck 
 there was no one by when I unfastened him. " Hello, 
 Clarence/ 7 says I. "What are ye here for?" "For 
 me health, ye baboon !" says he, spitting oil from his 
 teeth. And at first he showed fight ; but I hauled him 
 out by the collar of his neck, and sat him down hard 
 once or twice on the tank-tops to show him his legs 
 was too stiff for it, and I whispered to him of the of 
 ficers running around crazy to find him, with their 
 threats of keel-hauling him. And I carried him up 
 the ladder on me back and planted him on deck with 
 care. 
 
 Along come a young surgeon looking for what he 
 could find, and says he: "What ails this man?" 
 " Nothing, sir," says I ; "he s fallen down two hatch 
 ways and disturbed his innards, as appears from his 
 mouth, sir/ 7 which was still bubbling oil. And the 
 surgeon says : " Dump him into the sick-bay." Which 
 I did, giving him a pointer to keep mum with his voice 
 about smuggling his jug, and advising him to git all 
 the sleep he could. "For I hear," I says, "ye re to 
 be hanged at the signal-arm at sunrise." 
 
 And when I come for me trick at the wheel, on the 
 
THE SPIRIT IN THE PIPE 37 
 
 bridge I see the pilot-house full of ward-room officers, 
 and they had the quartermaster s mate and the man 
 whose relief I was and the wooden-head Scandinavian 
 orderly, questioning all three of em about what they 
 had said ; but the Captain they had soothed back to 
 bed. And they could figure no relationship with the 
 statements of them three and what the Captain had 
 said. I heard em send for the Regulations, and I 
 knowed they was considering the steps to be taken 
 when a captain loses his command by virtue of his vice 
 of intemperance, for they thought he had drillium 
 trimmins. And from what I heard I see t was the 
 intention to watch him in the morning and take action 
 according to his condition j and so they dispersed. 
 And when me trick was done at four o clock in the 
 morning I lost no time in dropping below to make a 
 clumsy job of repairing the voice-pipe, at the risk of 
 imminent discovery. 
 
 T was four bells of the morning before I had fin 
 ished it. I says to meself, I 11 go and be shining 
 brass knobs in the cabin, in place of O Shay, and 
 hear what is said. And the first thing old Tarrant 
 remarks when he opens the door was : " Go tell the 
 officer of the deck to send aft all those men I placed 
 under arrest last night at midnight." Which I did, 
 and the officer hummed and hawed and says : " How 
 does the Captain look this morning?" "How does 
 he look ? " says I ; " he looks like he had bad sleep last 
 night, sir," I says, "and maybe misleading dreams, 
 with no irreverence to him, sir." 
 
 And the officer says : " Hum ; go tell him he was 
 mistaken. He placed no man under arrest last 
 
38 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 night." And when I told old Tarrant that, he did n t 
 fly off his handle, but looked a bit dazed to himself. 
 " T was the night before/ he says to himself , " yes. 
 Never mind ; t was the night before." And he come 
 with false leisure for ard, and see the quartermaster s 
 mate standing on one leg ag in the tompion of old ten- 
 inch, smoking of his pipe to beat the stack of a soft- 
 burning Britisher. 
 
 " Was it last night/ says the Captain, " I had you 
 aft at midnight ? " he says, a bit dubious. " Me, sir ? * 
 says the mate, with his eyebrows flying up under his 
 hat. "No, sir, t \\a& n t me, sir; nor any night, sir." 
 And old Tarrant walked aft again. And t was the 
 last word any one hear of it, or of anything that had 
 occcurred that night. But during that cruise the 
 color of old Tarrant s beak changed from a flaming 
 Turkey red to a decent claret and water ; and t was 
 plain he thought he had the drillium dreams. 
 
 Well, I went for ard and shook O Shay to wake him. 
 li Beware me naked spirit !" he mutters, half obvious 
 of himself. "Wake up, Clarence," says I, bringing 
 him to his senses. " Are ye better this morning, me 
 boy ? T is twenty-four hours ye laid in a stupor call 
 ing out names to beat the divil. Ye ve had a bad 
 case of drillium trimmins, me lad. T is a special dis 
 pensation ye re living this day !" 
 
 "Is that all of it?" says Clarence, rolling of his 
 eyes with relief. " Thank Heaven !" he says. " I 
 dreamed I was being shipped in a tin can to the King 
 of the Man-Eating Isles !" 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 
 
 HIS was a dream I had. There was 
 me and Clarence O Shay ; and Fer 
 gus of Oregon ; and Williams the 
 nigger; and Bo s n Nutt of New- 
 buryport, so called, though no bo s n 
 at all ; and Brawney Thompson, the 
 new recruit; and we was the crew of her tops all 
 bottled with fight, and guessing what next, with the 
 department tight as a drum with information, for yet 
 having none to impart. By the hot twilight of the 
 Keys the clot of us would rally under the jackstaff 
 for general expansion and repartee, till we was the gist 
 of society. Then Bo s n Nutt would play rubber with 
 the truth of his troubles in being a boy in Newbury- 
 port, and me to draw the giant s bow of me doings in 
 China ; then Clarence would dance a solemn sand-dance 
 with his feet, and Fergus of Oregon would speak : 
 " Flap-doodle, flap-doodlefall in for your boodle !" 
 till at last the nigger with his infant banjo, and 
 Brawney Thompson with his beautiful nasal voice, 
 would sing music to words spliced by Brawney him 
 self while laying awake to think of his Madeleine, like : 
 
 The first I knew I had me tears, I found me eyes afloat, 
 To see the Stars and Stripes at Guan-ta-wa-mo ; 
 
 The first I knew I had me heart, I found it in me throat, 
 To see the Stars and Stripes at Guan-ta-wa-mo, 
 41 
 
42 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 which would start with the stamping of feet, and end 
 with silence j for all the rhymes that Brawn ey wrote 
 would finish sad. 
 
 One morning we hove up in the middle of the night, 
 and bid adieu without saying good-by and our hopes 
 of gitting something for our ammunition was certified 
 by the invent of a stranger. He wore knee-breeches 
 and a Walter Raleigh beard; and he stops at the 
 gang-boards, with his nose smelling at the rifle of the 
 marine. 
 
 "Who the divil do ye wish to see, sir?" says the 
 guard, or such words. 
 
 The knee-breeches gives a shirk of the eyebrows, 
 and waves at the rifle to abolish it. 
 
 "Tell em I ve came," says he, "and they don t 
 seem to expect me !" he says, in surprise. " Call the 
 captain and his officers," says he, granting the privilege 
 with grace. 
 
 "What name, sir?" says the marine, polite as a 
 dancing-master, and aching to push him in the coun 
 tenance with his piece. 
 
 " What name !" says the knee-breeches. " Ain t me 
 face been printed often enough, with me biography ? 
 Don t ye read? I m Kuhlamar," says he, with a 
 pause to let it sink home," Kuhlamar, the War Critic 
 of the i Daily Flash, " says he, staring at the rifle, and 
 ignoring the cold eye in the white breeches behind it. 
 " I never met such a crazy divil at the door of the 
 Pope !" says he. 
 
 And says the marine, stiif as St. Peter : 
 
 " Tell the deck one of them reporters" 
 
 "Reporters!" says the knee-breeches. "What 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 43 
 
 brand of laughing-stock are ye ? Don t ye know I in 
 the Special Envoy of the Daily Flash ?" 
 
 So by letters of introduction and command he sad 
 dled himself on the crowded ward-room mess, and 
 begun roostering up and down the quarter-deck. I 
 never hear what happened ; but after the first meal I 
 see the War Critic smoking to himself, with the officers 
 casting eyes and nodding in general opinion ; and he 
 never seen anything but the sea before him. And the 
 same thereafter him total oblivious, but writing down 
 notes of his thoughts disfavorable. Brawney and me 
 and Clarence lit out for the upper top on a call for 
 quarters. T was command of silence, with everything 
 trained on an innocent bark on the bow, and all hands 
 mumbling " Too much drill," when a snicker arose, 
 and with it the War Critic. There was two revolvers 
 slung to his waist, with ammunition to take Gibraltar ; 
 and a spy-glass, a canteen of booze, and a roll of 
 bunting tied to him, along with a photograph-box; 
 and his coat was a patchwork of pockets, with maps 
 and pads, and ink-druling pencils, and yeller glasses 
 to give color to the Spanish war. The red cross was 
 sewed to both sleeves, and his big white helmet made 
 him look like a snail a-dangling of its in ards. 
 
 " T is only a drill," says he, through his spy-glass, 
 as kind as your grandfather. "And ye need n t fear 
 any fighting, for I have a letter from me friends at 
 court." 
 
 " Silence, there !" yells up Bo s n Nutt. The War 
 Critic give him the piteous smile, and killed time by 
 taking the bo s n with his photograph-box. By and 
 by he strolled with all toggery through the living- 
 
44 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 space; and they stared before him, and cat-called 
 behind him ; but he turned, and says not to be scared 
 of him, and he conversed as indulgent as with luna 
 tics. He had private information as to her destina 
 tion, he says, and they all crowded to the bait, but 
 t was not good policy to tell, he says, at the present 
 time. But, from his experience, which extended from 
 Chile to China, by way of Turkey, he would say that 
 the war would be but a naval parade, with a little 
 bluffing at long range, and a killing or two. It 
 grieved him sore, for fighting was his joy. Anyway, 
 he says, his career was the most interesting he ever 
 hear of, and his talents the most extraordinary. 
 T was always him first in with the news, which was 
 why all them that ranked as but plain correspondents 
 was down on him. 
 
 J T was him that first noticed the Johnstown flood ; 
 and he jumped aboard of it with a hen-coop, to have 
 the front seat and arrive at the telegraph. And he 
 was the only one living that had interviewed the Czar 
 the old Czar watching with two cocked revolvers to 
 see if he slipped a cog in his etiquette. And he was 
 the same that advised with the King of Greece for 
 exterminating the Turks ; but the King got grouty, 
 and, bedad, the War Critic brought over the Turks to 
 knock him into a pint-pot. But he says he was tired 
 of herding with them kings and queens ; for they was 
 a stuck-up lot, he says, with their noses always in your 
 pedigree ; but t was superior to laying at Washington, 
 and driving a string of congressmen with the brand 
 of the " Flash." The only decent life was making 
 war; and he was planting the mines for a general 
 conflict of the powers, which, he says, the world needed 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 45 
 
 to draw its bad blood. And by the end of his two 
 hours ego-biography there was none left but Brawney 
 Thompson, that stood sizing him up, and Bo s n Nutt, 
 that was aching to tell a lie of his own, but could n t 
 git the wedge in. The War Critic fastens on Braw 
 ney, and commences to educate him, from telling him 
 how to wear a beard to how inferior he was to the blue 
 jackets of Europe. The navy was bad enough, says 
 he, but the regular army on parade would make the 
 Emperor of Germany fall off his horse. And he says 
 he always passed himself for an Austrian abroad, for 
 shame of the United States being so raw in the par 
 ticulars of formality. 
 
 "For I see your intelligence," says the War Critic, 
 " and by your conversation more of a gentleman than 
 them officers aft." 
 
 And Brawney says, " Thank ye," which was the first 
 he had opened his mouth. 
 
 " So it may occur I need ye," says the War Critic, 
 dropping his tone. " The captain and his staff con 
 spires to beat me out of sending the news j but the 
 poor divils don t know what it is to go up ag in the 
 Daily Flash ; for ye can lay to it, 1 m the big thing 
 aboard this craft. T is all right to be singing songs 
 of the star-spangled rag, but the l Daily Flash will be 
 doing politics when one-legged patriots is starving on 
 ten-dollar pensions ; and ye can think of that. I 11 
 throw up me hat with the next, and yell Hail, Co 
 lumbia! " says he; "but the Daily Flash 7 will give 
 the people the news, if it scuttles the Ship of State to 
 git it j and if the fact is worth money to ye, I may see 
 ye again," says he, walking off. 
 
 "Eh? What?" says Brawney, staring after him. 
 
46 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " The blackguard !" says Brawney, coming to himself. 
 " And he called the flag a rag and I never pulled out 
 his Austrian beard ; and what will me Madeleine say 
 to that?" 
 
 " T was the best thing ye never did/ says I, " and 
 the future will prove it." 
 
 We made Cape Haitien without adventures, and the 
 launch was called away for despatches. The War 
 Critic saunters down, and sets himself in the stern- 
 sheets, like the admiral of all he surveyed. 
 
 " Ye 11 have to go back on board, sir/ 7 says little 
 Ensign Charlie. 
 
 " What for ? " says the War Critic. " Is the launch 
 disabled?" 
 
 "No, sir," says Charlie; " t is because ye can t go 
 ashore." 
 
 "I 11 look into that !" says the War Critic, climbing 
 the ladder. "Ye can hold the launch till I confer 
 with the captain," says he. 
 
 "Cast off!" says Charlie; and the launch rolled 
 away to town. We waited for her long in the dark, 
 me and Brawney chewing tobacco in the eyes of the 
 ship, and expeculating on what was the chances of 
 meeting the foe. Then for the first time since the 
 launch departed the War Critic appeared, and mo 
 tioned silent for Brawney to draw to one side. They 
 fumbled together in the dark without speaking au 
 dible, and I was glad to see em break away without 
 Brawney smashing him for having miscalled the flag. 
 The War Critic wandered away in the gloom, and 
 Brawney drags me double-quick to a den in the tor 
 pedo-flat. 
 
THE YELLOW BUEGEE 47 
 
 " He gimme ten dollars and a tin can," says Braw- 
 ney. " He says I must drop the can to the bumboat 
 with the sail." 
 
 "And?" says I. 
 
 " I dropped the can," says Brawney. " But first I 
 drew the charge. Listen to it, directed to one at Cape 
 Haitien : 
 
 "I am able to announce exclusively that our destination, 
 which for strategic reasons of greatest importance government 
 has so far succeeded in concealing, is Isle of Pines. As soon as 
 this fact is known, change of destination will become necessary, 
 that enemy may not profit by disclosure. Influence of Flash s 
 War Critic is being thrown toward early crushing of enemy in 
 these waters, at whatever sacrifice. Flash s Special Envoy 
 will fly yellow burgee of Daily Flash when ship goes into 
 action ; and flag of Flash will never be taken down. 
 
 " Special to Mulliraw: Flag is no fake. Shall fly it long 
 enough for snap shot in confusion of some prize-capture. Try 
 hot oven on this sea-mule and his officers : they have thrown 
 me down everywhere. K." 
 
 In ten minutes Brawney had red-taped himself to Old 
 Handsome in his cabin. 
 
 "Hm!" says the Old Man, tapping his desk, "and 
 what did ye intend with the ten dollars ? " 
 
 " T was cross-purpose," says Brawney "to send it 
 to me Madeleine, or give it to the Red Cross, or light 
 me pipe with it." 
 
 The Old Man. went on tapping. 
 
 " But," says Brawney, " we not being yet married, 
 and such dirty money as that, why, what would 
 me Madeleine think? And maybe the Red Cross 
 or else" says he, stammering. 
 
48 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " This money," says the Old Man, handing back the 
 bill, " is from the l Daily Flash. It came cent by cent 
 from the dirty palms of discivilization, paying tribute 
 to the king of the garbage-heap," says he or such 
 words. " There s plenty of honest money over there," 
 says he, pointing to the United States. " The Bed 
 Cross don t have to draw on the maggots of license 
 and corruption," says he or such words. " There s 
 five ships of the enemy in these waters, and we ve got 
 to git past em. This man would deliver us all to 
 Davy Jones for the sake of glorifying himself in his 
 newspaper. And what was it he called the flag? " 
 
 " By St. Peter-in-the-Pilot-house !" exclaims Braw- 
 ney, at the thought of it. In the scratch of a match 
 ye could smell the ten dollars in his palm, consuming 
 in flames. 
 
 The Old Man watched the ashes being poured into 
 Brawney s cap j then he pulled out a new ten from his 
 own salary. 
 
 " Send that to your Madeleine," says he, " and tell 
 her, as far as this ship has its keel, I know a good 
 man." 
 
 "Thank ye, sir yes, sir; beg pardon, sir!" says 
 Brawney, with the new bill in his hand ; " but, any 
 way, me Madeleine has dough of her own ; and, any 
 way, the money is only come by virtue of a d d squid 
 aboard that would spit ink on the flag ; and I think it 
 would twice more please the taste of me Madeleine to 
 take it back for the Red Cross, sir !" 
 
 Bo s n Nutt says he see the same thing took place 
 in Newburyport, when he was a boy j but it s a lie. 
 
 We was a grumbling lot. Drill and clear and jug- 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 49 
 
 gle with dummy loads till I thought I would forgit 
 me brain ! The Old Man had reinforced the upper 
 top, and mounted a three-pounder, being special for 
 secondary battery ; and he had placed behind it the 
 eye of Clarence O Shay, such that Clarence would grin 
 in his sleep, and would sit at the breech by the hour, 
 shaking insults at the sky-line. But never a bull-rag 
 showed up. We passed to the north of Porto Rico, 
 and begun sliding down the Antilles, till it seemed we 
 had fooled the enemy s squadron, with no chance of 
 excitement more j and Brawney mumbled we was no 
 thing but a picnic for a news-scavenger. The four 
 niggers would clump apart, in disgrace for preserving 
 good nature. Every false alarm, by day or night, the 
 War Critic would haul himself to the top in all his 
 baggage j for he told Brawney the top was the softest 
 place in case of surprise, and him too high-salaried a 
 man to be risking his skin unnecessary. On deck he 
 treated us shy for a while after Cape Haitieri but at 
 length he come with a bunch of cigars from his give 
 away box. Did one of us ever meet with adventures ? 
 says he ; and what made us enlist at such jobs? 
 
 7 T was the speech of his congressman that made him 
 enlist, says Brawney which t was thought of so 
 highly that Congress had it printed and sent free 
 through the mails. The speech says, who was it, with 
 none dependent, and having his manhood, that would 
 sit home in his slippers, with a lot of bull-ragging 
 fandangos pulling at the tail of the eagle? And 
 Brawney says that hit him, and he give up an eighty- 
 dollar job. The War Critic let out a laugh. 
 
 " T was me that wrote it for him," says he; "for 
 
50 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 your congressman was fuddled as a snake in alcohol. 
 T was considered the best he ever made, and he had 
 it printed at his own expense. T is a cheap little 
 rascal, your congressman ; ye can buy him for ten dol 
 lars or more : but a man that won t stay bought," says 
 the War Critic, with virtuous indignation, " I have no 
 use for !" 
 
 Brawney threw the cigar over his head, and walked 
 off. I heard him mumbling over it in the middle of 
 the night, when, by the regulations, he ought to be 
 sleeping. 
 
 "And she and me setting up to finish it !" says he ; 
 " and crying, and patting me on the shoulder !" 
 
 He went on berating to himself, with the whole of 
 us swaying in the gloom, and having bad dreams of 
 peace decfared, like two hundred cods in a cockpit. 
 
 " Here we are walking on the water," says he, " at 
 chambermaids wages, for the joy of defending the 
 finest flag afloat, when along comes this gromet- 
 rnouthed gas-vat to foul our course, and bringing the 
 powers of Congress behind him ! And he called it a 
 rag to me face !" says he, beating the rivets overhead. 
 
 I heard five bells. The nigger and Bo s n Nutt 
 competed with snores like twins. The night was 
 escaping without drill. 
 
 "Is the whole government rotten, and the uni 
 verse ? " says Brawney ; " and the President s message 
 wrote by some husky reporter that loafs at the White 
 House gate ? And me leaving me Madeleine !" And 
 he pulls out a photograph, and tries to see it. 
 
 " Don t git so honest ye think you re the only one," 
 says I. 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 51 
 
 ""Well, there s me Madeleine that s square," says 
 Brawney ; " ye can lay to that. And Father Moore I 
 will swear to, though no Catholic ; and, bedad, you 
 and Old Handsome would kick the divil, if he come 
 with absolution. But the rest of mankind, I mistrust, 
 would have took the ten dollars ; and some of them 
 senators, too." 
 
 "Have ye been reading the i Flash ? 77 says I. 
 "And the world but a magazine of crime, and the 
 flag but for fools, by inference ? " 
 
 " T is the finest flag since God made bunting !" says 
 Brawney. "And" says he. 
 
 We all heeled over, caused by the helm brought 
 hard to port. By an instinct of hope, ten others and 
 BoVn Nutt and me slid out barefoot, and ducked for 
 the hatch. 
 
 The sea was a lavender Japanee crape ; a pasty fog 
 picked its skirts across us, with the moon shining 
 through like a paper screen. We lumbered the bit of 
 a swell like a blind blue dripping shape of lead for 
 our war-paint, with our funnels daubing ag in the 
 sky $ and the little six-pounders sniffed over the berth 
 ings, and the big rifles stared with their thoughts 
 nine miles in space. She come at a gathering gait; 
 two brown ribbons streamed behind, singing a song 
 of sixpence to a sea that curled and kissed her lines 
 in admiration. Her pilot-house rushed in a point like 
 an arrow, as if she would say : " I 7 m a round nine 
 thousand tons of steel, and I ride by the quest of 
 freedom." 
 
 Nutt asked me, and I asked Nutt. All we see was 
 the Old Man making for the bridge. Clarence was 
 
52 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 gazing ahead from the jack-staff, in his little square 
 coat. I give me double cough. Clarence stuck out 
 a thumb to the waters, and I see a faint line of bub 
 blesthe wake of a steamer, not five minutes old. 
 
 "Are ye seasick?" says the War Critic, over me 
 shoulder. " What is it up ? " says he, seeing two order 
 lies dash for below. "What did ye see?" says he, 
 leaning with haste into Clarence s ear. 
 
 " Keep that reporter abaft the davits ! " says a dark 
 voice. 
 
 " Don t git excited !" worries the War Critic, with 
 Brawney Thompson helping his retreat. " Repor 
 ter ! I 11 black-list these jumping- jacks ! " says he 
 to me. 
 
 But I see a torrent of silent legs up-pouring. 
 " Clear ship ! " says I to meself. " Has the Old Man 
 found his quarry ? " says I, me heart on a jig. I swal 
 lowed meself in the melee. 
 
 " Pleasant to see something doing," the War Critic 
 was observing, taking the ladder for the upper deck. 
 A half-dozen stokers, risking their hides to see what 
 was up before they dropped down to the boiler-hell, 
 come flying, and shouldered him up like a hod of 
 plaster. The coil of a boat-fall lowered away, and 
 carried his props from under him. Somebody har 
 pooned him in the back with a loose hatch-batten, and 
 a crew of bare-breasted spirits snatched him aft in the 
 bight of a length of hose. In the dark, the gallop of 
 men and marines, landsmen and idlers, tooth and nail, 
 like a rally of ants, bedazzled his wits. He slid for 
 home base astride of a stream from a two-inch nozle, 
 and he chased himself up the mast in the quiet of "all 
 
YELLOW BURGEE 53 
 
 divisions heard from." He met Brawney Thompson 
 sliding down from the peak with a smile. 
 
 " The finest, freest .war-ribbon that ever topped 
 God s green!" says Brawney, looking back. "And 
 me a-setting ye there, at dawn on this day of our Lord 
 that may God send the enemy ! What would me Mad 
 eleine say to that ? " 
 
 " Silence !" went everywhere. 
 
 "I had hopes/ 7 whispers the War Critic; "but 7 t is 
 only another sham." 
 
 Clarence set by the breech of his piece, .with his 
 eyes in the water. The bubbles had grown to, suds. 
 
 " I seen the corn-paper stumps of their cigarettes !" 
 whispers Clarence. 
 
 But the crews of the rapid- fires on deck had seen no 
 suds; and worse in the turrets. 7 T was plain cold 
 feet and wet gratings and vituperation inside, with 
 little more on but trousers. " Have over, and back to 
 our snores !" they muttered ; but there they stood, with 
 their toes turned up. The boilers begun to growl. 
 7 T was one bell. 
 
 " Don t strike that bell !" says a sudden voice, 
 
 " Eh ? 77 says the six-pounders, scared at their rising 
 hopes. 
 
 We took up another two knots to the hour ; and ye 
 could tell that below they was shoving the soot to 
 beat the divil with a new batch of souls, and the oilers 
 and water-tenders crawling like bugs in the belly of 
 a whale. 
 
 " Well, I suppose them fellers at the small guns on 
 deck would git the brunt of it, 77 says the War Critic. 
 
 " Silence ! 7 says Bo s n Nutt, from beneath. 
 
54 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " Silence !" says I, under breath, "for we re attend 
 ing a wake." 
 
 Which the War Critic put in his book ; for the color 
 of day was bleaching the mist that shrouded us, and 
 the situation plain to all. 
 
 " T will turn out a Portegee !" mumbles Clarence, 
 berating Providence. " 7 T is always so when we git 
 our mouths puckered !" 
 
 " It might be a prize," says the War Critic, lighting 
 his cigar, in the face of the regulations, " and money 
 coming to ye. They would owe me some, too ; for 
 7 t was action of mine that thro wed us here," says he, 
 smiling at his thoughts. 
 
 " This sea-sheriff business can go to the divil," says 
 Brawney. " I m looking for a prize what thinks it 
 can shoot target with Yankee Doodle." 
 
 " J T will be but a Scotch man-o -war full of 
 greasers !" says Clarence, doleful j " and me grand 
 mother calling me a dove !" 
 
 I give a snort. Had the wind come astern of the 
 funnels ? Divil a bit j but I smelt smoke with the fog. 
 Was it true, and the craft ahead had crossed our bow ? 
 
 " What have ye ? " says Clarence. " Make no noses 
 at me !" says he, in his evil mood. 
 
 " Smoke in the wind !" I bellered, believing me nos 
 trils. 
 
 " In the wind ? " says the voice-pipe. 
 
 " In the wind, sir !" says I. 
 
 The War Critic laid down his roll of bunting the 
 yeller burgee of the " Daily Flash." I see through 
 me glass the mist take shape, then dissolve. 
 
 " Military top, sir !" I bawled. " Two points for ard 
 the beam no ship of ours, sir !" 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 55 
 
 Approbations rose from the deck in murmurs. 
 "There was two of them, then," says every one, "for 
 the wake of the other was straight and fresh." The 
 air was thick with prayers that it might not be friends. 
 
 " Two of em !" says the War Critic. " And us stum 
 bling between em, with colors set ! Shout the warn 
 ing!" says he. 
 
 We swung away to put the two in the fog to port 
 of us, and the starboard sections groaned. 
 
 " The Old Man finds his senses," says the War Critic. 
 " He 11 be away and from sight, and they neyer guess !" 
 
 But we took up our course again. The breeze 
 waked up and rubbed the eyes of the morning, as 
 Brawney says ; and the fog swept clear for a thousand 
 yards, then for another thousand ; and then, like 
 thro wed on stereoptican, it showed us a big armored 
 cruiser, with our broadside trained on it like needles 
 on the pole. She was asleep, with no colors shown j 
 and your toes clenched in your boots. 
 
 " Stick up your rag !" says Clarence, shaking his fist ; 
 for the marks of the breed stood out on every stitch 
 of her. " Have ye nothing but hind legs, ye bull-rag 
 ging beast?" says he. 
 
 T was as though she heard, for she let out a scream 
 like a nightmare 5 and our steam siren yelled for water 
 tight doors. 
 
 " What ? " says the War Critic. " Hear the answer- 
 in g toots in the fog ! Don t he know t is the first art 
 of war not to fight with superior force ? " 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! What ship is that 1 " says the Old Man, 
 speaking across her bows through our for ard five-inch 
 rifle. They was flying up and down her decks like 
 rats, and she edged away toward the fog. 
 
56 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " Ship ahoy, there ! What ship is that 1 " roars the 
 Old Man, tapping a hole through the fandango s 
 funnel. 
 
 I see the flag of the enemy break from her peak, 
 and a dozen juts of smoke from her side. A howl of 
 delight arose to me ears, and the sea splashed up like 
 a school of whales. Our eights and half our fives 
 was up and away with the bugle-blast, with the six- 
 pounders barking at their heels ; and the sun jumped 
 out of the night, with its chin on the sky-line, to see 
 what the divil was doing. It see the moon as pale as 
 a shirt, and the fog skedaddling with its petticoats 
 up, and hell s tune playing twixt two little specks at 
 sea, with me and Brawney and Clarence and the War 
 Critic hung in a bowl in the sky. Clarence was curs 
 ing with the finest freedom ye ever hear, for he was 
 out of range. The War Critic stood hold of the mast, 
 biting his teeth, and his eyes in a stare. Brawney 
 stood ready to serve, with a gaze and a smile ; and 
 he looked up at the flag standing sharp to the breeze, 
 where he put it, and he laughed and slapped his thigh. 
 Never such joy I Ve known in the forty years since me 
 mother s lap. Natural lust of destruction flying loose 
 in me heart ; bottled and corked essence of peace-drill 
 and peace-subordination, bedad, and peace-idleness of 
 twenty years cruising, dropped, with a rifle-crack, like 
 a cangue from off me neck. The sides of me brain 
 worked separate together. " Let it exude," says the 
 one, " free ! free s a balloon !" And the other 
 howled : 
 
 "Gunboat coming out of the fog, sir enemy s 
 flag!" 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 57 
 
 The Old Man and his mate stood like the rear of an 
 observation-car, roaring remarks in each other s ears. 
 The hot light of day rode the bare backs along the 
 berthing till each man steamed like a horse on ice. 
 We was easing the gap between us and the foe, and 
 her consort hovering down to the region of six-inch 
 remonstrance, and landing by luck with a shell through 
 our armor-belt that sent the carpenter sprinting for 
 the protective deck with nine kinds of patches. A 
 six-pounder went through me hair, I thought; and 
 the War Critic felt it, and kneeled down to the trap, 
 staring at the deck fifty feet below. But he got up 
 again, and jammed his helmet over his eyes. 
 
 " The coal-bunkers was the place to be," he says to 
 himself. 
 
 " Nineteen hundred yards !" yells Fergus of Oregon, 
 his head through the trap. 
 
 Clarence stopped his profanity. By the holy pow 
 ers, I see the two corners of his mouth from the back 
 of his head, and he had no nerves. He settled as 
 quick to the breech of his piece as a squalling baby 
 put to the breast, and he took aim like wiping the rim 
 of your glass with a doily before ye swig your beer ; 
 and we never heard no more from him but the smell 
 of saltpeter. The air whistled like a typhoon, and 
 there was Fergus, still with his head and shoulders 
 through, his chin on his breast, like thinking. 
 
 " My God !" says the War Critic, drawing away from 
 Fergus. 
 
 We all howled, for we see the gunboat doubled up 
 with an eight-inch shell in her brain, and not knowing 
 where to go. The big fandango landed in our for ard 
 
58 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 torpedo-flat, and knocked a Whitehead into watch, 
 works, and blowed an ensign off the navy-register. 
 
 "She s on fire in the quarters, sir!" I yelled with 
 one eye. With the other I seen em discumbering 
 Fergus from the trap. He had n t no legs. The War 
 Critic gazed at him dumb, the photograph-box askew 
 on his back. A shower of hot commas exploded under 
 my jaw. 
 
 "Bedad, they re loading with barbed-wire fence !" 
 says Brawney, observing the flesh-cuts on him and 
 me ; " and they ve tore out a gap in the list of junior 
 grade in the after-turret; and there s White Olsen 
 keeled over and bit a piece from an officer s shoe." 
 
 " Enemy s stern caved in by a shell, sir ! Enemy s 
 squadron approaching ahead three ships !" says I. 
 
 Our port anchor-davit arose off the deck at the news, 
 and jumped into the sea, with a solid shot behind j 
 and I thought the War Critic would dive after it. 
 
 " Look here ; ain t we got enough ? " says he, clutch 
 ing Clarence s shoulder with sharp finger-nails. But 
 Clarence thought it was a wound, and would pay no 
 attention. "Man, man," says the War Critic, "leave 
 em alone leave em alone !" 
 
 The big fandango was winded a bit, or her tail- 
 feathers broke, for she slowed and swung. The Old 
 Man smiled. We started all steam to cross her bow 
 to run tween her and her mate, for the love of 
 raking her fore and aft, though the two of em 
 snatched us bald. " There s three fresh craft a- vom 
 iting smoke behind," says I. "The excitement of 
 battle is about to begin," says I, freeing me face of 
 nose-bleed ; and I laughed such a divil s own joy of a 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 59 
 
 laugh as ye can t brew the liquor to bring. A hot 
 shot went between Clarence and his elbow. 
 
 " Did ye find me card beneath your hammick door ? " 
 yells Clarence, like a row in a tenement. " Take that, 
 ye yeller baboons ! " 
 
 " 1 7 11 give ye a hundred dollars to jam your breech ; 
 they must leave us alone !" says the War Critic, fan 
 ning the air with a hand-load of bills for the second 
 time in Clarence s face. Clarence took the wad, and 
 fed it into the breech of his piece ; and the next five 
 shots cost the "Daily Flash" twenty dollars apiece; 
 and Clarence went right on. 
 
 So we shot the rapids, starboard and port, great 
 guns and small, Bo s n Nutt and Clarence O Shay, at 
 nineteen knots for the other world. I says good-by 
 to meself. I says, "Some angel will be walking ye 
 by the ear in a minute, and there s an awkward thing 
 or two he 11 be asking ye about. What?" says I. 
 " Are we afloat ? That J s the nigger down there with 
 his leg broke ; and Clarence s scalp has a piece stick 
 ing up like the door of a spider ; and the War Critic 
 has a vaccination on his arm, but too busy counting 
 his sins to know it ; and, bedad, we re afloat !" 
 
 " Git away !" says Clarence, straining to train the 
 three-pounder astern. 
 
 There come a yell from the lower top. A gasp of 
 joy, and some stripes of red passed over me eyes. 
 T was the colors, brought down by the breaking of 
 the block j and t was the War Critic clutching it, haul 
 ing it in like the divil after your soul. 
 
 We ve struck ! We ve saved our skins !" he says, 
 falling on the flag to hide it. 
 
60 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 Did ye ever hear Yankee Doodle roar when a tuft 
 of his feathers was pulled ? I heard a shout as big as 
 North America. .Me and Clarence and the bloody 
 crew of Bo s n Nutt collided in a bunclj ; but we was 
 all behind. The War Critic laid jerking in the ruins 
 of his tackle. T was Brawney Thompson that shinned 
 the bare pole, .with the bunting in his teeth, and a 
 thousand yells to boost him. A flight of flying iron 
 went whistling by, and for an answer the forty-five 
 stars stood stiff to the breeze. Brawney gripped the 
 pole. He turned his face and looked down strange in 
 me eye, and me and Clarence went up after him. We 
 all slid back -in. a heap, and we set Brawney ag in the 
 mast, and tore his shirt apart, his head rolling like an 
 apple on its stem. The little sky-terrier begun bark 
 ing again in the hands of a new detail six of us 
 crammed in a space fit for three ; and I could n t hear 
 what Brawney was. trying to tell. The seconds went 
 by in a daze, and we could n t see nothing to do. Then 
 the bugle blowed, and a howling din of silence beat 
 on your brain to break your heart. I put me ear to 
 Brawn ey s mouth ; but all I hear was the tinkle of the 
 nigger with his broken leg, in the top below, and his 
 infant banjo, to the tune : 
 
 The first I knew I had me heart, I found it in me throat, 
 To see the Stars and Stripes at Guan-ta-wa-mo. 
 
 "I 11 give ten dollars for a flask of liquor !" says 
 the War Critic. "I 7 ve got to git down from here, 
 somehow !" says he. 
 
 We heard a boom away astern. Brawney opened 
 his eyes. 
 
 " Commenced again ? " says he. 
 
THE YELLOW BURGEE 61 
 
 " The fandango has blowed up her small-arms mag. 
 azine, I judge," says I; "and her mates galloping to 
 hold her head out of water." 
 
 "Fandango blowed up !" says Brawney, with the 
 end of a smile. " Lemme See lemme see ! Ah/ he 
 says, "your glass is all fog ! I can t see a blank thing ! 
 But that s the flag !" he says, his head reeling back. 
 "Well, it ain t no rag, is it? And only a minute ago 
 and what would me Madeleine say to that?" 
 
 Then he did n t speak.no more : and t was the first 
 
 JT ;...,.,,-. 
 
 time I ever see Clarence afraid. 
 
 t * ** *<** *?""< vv-. 
 We laid Brawney down on a six-pounder grating, 
 
 wrapped in a flag, with the rest. The Old Man tight 
 ened his lips to look at him. The War Critic, in the 
 wreck of his helmet, come out of the mast, hanging to 
 what he could, gazing at the seams in the deck. 
 
 " Here s a bit of bunting found in the top, sir," says 
 the mate to the Old Man ; and he unrolls the yeller 
 burgee of the " Daily Flash." 
 
 "I want to see you, sir!" says the Old Man, fixed 
 on the War Critic like two eight-inch guns. 
 
 The War Critic straightened himself a bit, and 
 raised his head. There was two hundred half -naked 
 men facing him with folded arms, and no place for 
 him to look. 
 
 " Mr. Chyne," says the Old Man, " wrap the body of 
 Brawney Thompson in the same flag he rescued from 
 this man Kuhlamar. When Thompson goes into the 
 sea, let the flag go with him. Mr. Kuhlamar, if the 
 enemy had been shooting more to the gain of the 
 United States, and less to its loss," says the Old Man, 
 "I would be heaving you overboard bagged in your 
 own quarantine rag, which is the symbol of your soul." 
 
62 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 I see five little specks away in our wake, under a 
 pall of smoke. I see Buck Williams, propped ag in 
 the berthing, in tears, and his banjo with a broken 
 string. I thought of Brawney s Madeleine she and 
 him in the light of a lamp at home, with their heads 
 together over the speech that the congressman did n t 
 write. 
 
 "The first I knew I had me heart, I found it in me throat ! " 
 
 says I, with me eyes on the flag at the peak. " And 
 what will his Madeleine say to that f " 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 
 
 E friend Clarence O Shay was not 
 especial for his beauty; but for 
 character and t was the chaplain 
 himself said it O Shay would cele 
 brate himself as frequent as not. 
 For once I remember a loud-howl 
 ing thunder-storm at Norfolk, one night, and me and 
 Clarence setting ashore in Handy Billy s Retreat, when 
 all at once was a soul-splitting broadside of lightning, 
 and Clarence rose up in the middle of his drink, and 
 went outside, saying never a word. And after several 
 minutes I missed his not coming back, and I went out 
 to find him in the pouring rain. And across the street, 
 in a flash that lit up the whole United States, I see 
 little Clarence with his two hands above his head 
 ahold of a lightning-rod. "What are ye there for, 
 all wet ? " says I. " Sure, t is the divil s own attack 
 of lightning," says he, gripping the rod like a dying 
 straw ; " and I 11 take no chance to be hit. For what 
 is the use of them safety devices," says he, " if no one 
 will use them ? " And he never let go, if ye kicked 
 and explained and wept with him till morning. It 
 was then, as in his affair with his heart between him 
 and Miss Mundy, that his character stood out on him 
 like the comb on a cock. 
 5 65 
 
C6 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 His affair of his heart was up North. Ye can still 
 see the spot, no doubt, like a bear with a patch of its 
 wool off. 7 T is on a mountain -side four miles or 
 more from Baranoff Castle, to port at the entrance 
 of Silver Bay. 
 
 >T was one Sunday, laying at Sitka, and an old man 
 come over the side with a look like the taste of bad 
 medicine. A small pocket church organ was under 
 his arm, and hymn-books, too ; and his face all whis 
 kers and hair. He give a black smile at the crew, as 
 to say, " ; T is a foul lot of cattle ye are !" and he went 
 below. They was rapping the ship s bell for services j 
 and young Tommy, the jolliest chaplain that ever 
 shirked his prayers, says he to me : " T is his own new 
 religion, invented by the old man himself j and neither 
 Christian, Mohammedan, Buddhist, nor pagan it is, 
 but a deal of each all dovetailed. And by Michel 
 angelo," says the chaplain, t was before the depart 
 ment sent him his resignation for being such favorites 
 with women, " by Michelangelo," says he, "the old 
 man s daughter is the handsomest north of Cape 
 Flattery !" 
 
 And me and O Shay disappeared in the wake of the 
 chaplain, and we found on the torpedo-flat the old 
 man unlashing his church organ and shaking out its 
 toes ; and there, setting on a hand-pump, we come sud 
 den on his daughter, like the unveiling of a statue. 
 Her eyes was India ink, and her face the dimensions 
 of a plum, with skin like ten dollars in gold. 
 
 " T is half Siwash and half Yankee trader ye are," 
 says I to meself ; " and with them eyes ye could nail 
 a common man to his doom." And she set like an ele- 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 67 
 
 gant firefly in the middle of darkness, till every man 
 present, and likewise the marines, stood mesmerized 
 in his shoes ; for she was dressed out all flying with 
 colors, slick as parade. She inspected us freely, and 
 no more scared than a baby ; but none would provoke 
 her but Clarence O Shay, which was the rawest of the 
 company; and a little squat carroty squab he was, 
 with his two running lights blinking like bats. 
 
 "Will ye steady the hymn-book?" says the girl, 
 smiling, and pointing plumb at O Shay. We was all 
 worrying at the fine lines of her, that was like the fig 
 ure 8 ; but snicker we must, for Clarence s face dropped 
 open, and his mouth give vent to a smile of dismay. 
 
 With that she begun disturbing the organ, till it 
 groaned : 
 
 Shall we gather at the river 
 Where bright angel feet has trod? 
 
 And the old man bellered out to beat it if he could, 
 with some of the crew bearing a hand, especially at 
 the tail of a verse. And Clarence must crowd the 
 sleeve of the girl to hold quiet the music, though the 
 breeze through the ports was impalpable. In the 
 middle of each verse I see her casting her black eyes 
 at his countenance, which would wink as if dazzled ; 
 and I noticed her fancy more pleased with the growly 
 notes beneath O Shay than them piping ones to lee 
 ward. 
 
 Next, the old man stood aiming his finger, shouting, 
 " Ye re all black-hearted sinners !" which was the start 
 of the finest sermon I ever hear. "Ye re all black 
 hearted sinners," he roared, " and your souls wallow- 
 
68 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 ing in the luxury of corruption, and every son of ye 
 worm-eaten with the leprosy of Satan !" And with 
 that he bore down on us like the Spanish Armadillo, 
 shouting the catalogue of sins, and calling us blue, 
 black, and red rascals to your heart s content. 
 
 But the girl was leaning back in her seat, with Clar 
 ence O Shay and the organ and the howling of the 
 sermon as obsolete as twenty miles away; and her 
 eyes was half closed, thinking to emselves, with a bit 
 of anxiety riding her brow, like a flaw on a pool. Till 
 the old man give a shout that spent his wind, and the 
 girl bolted up, observing O Shay, as I says to meself, 
 with a trifle of female calculation ; and she worried 
 the organ to " The Sweet By and By," with newfan 
 gled words to it. And him leaning over and hiding 
 the music with his billet of a thumb, and her demure 
 as a dove, but singing it now and again across his 
 face, till I cocked me ears. And at the end I seen her 
 bidding good-bys to him on deck, and wringing hands 
 with him. The old man stopped and scowled back 
 at the crew, as to say, " ; T is maggots ye are !" Then 
 he pursues her over the side, with his hand-organ. 
 
 Clarence O Shay run up the mast with a spy-glass, 
 and followed the girl over town till she hid herself 
 with the copper-green church. " Hist, man !" says he, 
 making beckons with his hands. "Lay up here." 
 And with us two hanging like parrots aloft, he whis 
 pers in me ear. 
 
 " T is a secret I have to tell ye," says he, " and no 
 one shall know it but me. Ye mind when I leaned 
 forninst her shoulder ? She was talking and singing 
 in me ear the while! When it was the first song, 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 69 
 
 says she in the middle of it, singing along with the 
 rest, but her eyes rolled up at the beams like innocent 
 questions : 
 
 Shall we gather at the river? 
 
 says she. And several times she sang it that way ; 
 and I thought I see her laugh in her sleeve, till I 
 chewed on it when the old man was ventilating his 
 belief. Then it was l The Sweet By and By/ with all 
 hands going as ye please in the chorus, and she belt 
 ing the little music-box to beat the band. When 
 every one was crying : 
 
 We shall meet we shall meet ! 
 
 as best I remember it bedad, at the same time she 
 was singing with a quarter of a glance past me face : 
 
 We shall meet we shall meet ! 
 Then next all the rest of them let go : 
 We shall mee-ee-eet ! 
 
 paying it out slow, but hanging on to it ; and the old 
 man took it up by its middle, and says, as though it 
 was settled: 
 
 We shall meet we shall meet ! 
 
 till they all did meet at the end of it, and they says, 
 all heaving together : 
 
 1 We shall meet on that beautiful shore ! 
 
70 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 But, bedad, the girl she let go both eyes at the beams 
 to onc t, and she sings nothing in me ear but : 
 
 Tuesday night on that Injun River shore ! 
 
 And at parting says she : < Ye 11 soon forget the words 
 ye heard this morning ? With that she gimme a look 
 with wide eyes, and went overboard. What do ye 
 make of it ? " says Clarence. 
 
 So I went to Chaplain Tommy, that was smoking 
 his cigar. 
 
 " Handsome she is," says he, agreeing, "and deep- 
 running water, too neither pious nor heathen, but 
 the riddle of the Phenix. Her father with the organ 
 is a bachelor, and it happened by accident. For Gloria 
 was the daughter of Bald Eagle, that ruled near by 
 Chilcat ; and then old Mundy was living to himself at 
 Sitka, being a landmark there before the purchase, 
 and coming from where no one knows. A strange 
 man he was, with his will-power stronger than his self- 
 control, and mainly content to be pope and prophet 
 of his own religion, and paddle his canoe, ten days to 
 a cruise. Then along comes a Yankee to Chilcat, and 
 makes a hole in the nest of Bald Eagle ; and when 
 Bald Eagle finds it out, he makes a hole in the Yan 
 kee, big as the moon. Till Bald Eagle gits word that 
 a sergeant-marine is coming to chase him, and he ups 
 and starts to meet the marine ; which the bluebottle, 
 by virtue of having ten mates with him, drops the old 
 Eagle overboard into the tide from his canoe. Then, 
 by a happy disaster," says the chaplain, " along comes 
 old Mundy, nosing to himself through the Straits, and 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 71 
 
 P 
 
 overhauls the empty canoe, that was full of war-truck 
 and a small baby girl. "T is a special dispensation ! 
 says he, and he named her Gloria ; and, as well as ye 
 can raise a pansy to blossom for a lily, he raised the 
 girl. For me daughter/ he would say, will bring 
 the true religion back to them Injuns, and all over the 
 universe to the glory of the world/ says he. And 
 when I die, all mine is hers, with privilege to marry 
 at thirty, which is soon as women have sense. For 
 the girl but last year would be running away with a 
 half-breed, and the old man tore the side of the Injun s 
 head with a slug from his shot-gun, to the disappear 
 ance of him ever since. And some say she mourns 
 him still, and many would sympathize with her, but 
 the old man won t let em set foot in the garden." 
 
 Then me and O Shay took verdict of what she had 
 said, and Tuesday evening we went on the road wind 
 ing back of the town. T is an elegant spot, and damp 
 beneath the trees as a bog ; and ye scarce drop your 
 hat but a toadstool hops up there and grows on its 
 brim. T was eight o clock, with the sun in that lati 
 tude fifteen degrees in the sky. Six hundred yards 
 from civilization we spied two females, setting with 
 their eyes in the river, as if nothing would happen. 
 And says O Shay good evening to em. 
 
 " Eh ? " says she for it was she. " Oh !" says she, 
 overhauling her mind. " It s the same I met on ship 
 board. How happen ye here ? " 
 
 "How!" says O Shay. "Sure, I m gathering on 
 the shore. For we shall meet/ " says he ; " * we shall 
 meet! " 
 
 " I don t know what ye mean," says Gloria, looking 
 
72 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 off as blank as a bowl of milk. " But t is a pleasant 
 evening here." 
 
 " Sure," says O Shay. " And have the elegance of 
 taking this box of candy, with the pleasure of me com 
 pliments." 
 
 And I noticed the other girl, that was full Siwash, 
 with a face to beat the rhinoceros, had drawn to one 
 side, leaving the occasion to itself ; and I went off be 
 hind a tree and smoked me pipe, while Clarence was 
 searching his wits. 
 
 " T is a fine evening, as you was saying," says Gloria, 
 with a trace of a smile, as though he was comic. 
 
 "Sure," says O Shay, a bit lacking for remarks, 
 " and pleasant, too," says he. And for a while I hear 
 him scratching his head. 
 
 "Three weeks from now will be full moon," says 
 he, all at once. And then for some time I hear em 
 staring at each other. 
 
 " Are ye married at home ? " says Gloria, by and by. 
 " For men that has wives already should not be giving 
 sweets to the girls." 
 
 "Married!" says O Shay, overdoing himself. 
 " Would I wear a ring in me nose ? " 
 
 " Every man should be married," says she, stiffen 
 ing up j " and one that scoffs at it is riot usual the best 
 in intentions. I must go, for I notice me brother 
 coming, that would take it hard seeing us. Good-by, 
 Mr. Sailor, and don t speak of this. For me father is 
 that jealous of me as his soul," says she, with disgust 
 in her voice, " and me kept penned away like a sacri 
 fice, and me own house a stranger to even me brother. 
 The first clear coast I ever had was next Friday, when 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 73 
 
 me father is witness at court. Don t say that I noticed 
 a stranger, though me father s hard heart be me ample 
 excuse. Good-by," says she; "and a better respect 
 for women come to ye soon ; for maybe till then I 
 won t expect to see ye." 
 
 And with that she skipped off to the other girl, 
 twice as light as ye >d think for the strength of her 
 build. Soon she come past with the one she says was 
 her brother. And the Injun, that was a broad-shoul 
 dered buck with hands like an oiler s, and nifty -look 
 ing, save the scar on his cheek, would stare at O Shay 
 till little Clarence was hurting to reach up and biff 
 him. We walked back, sifting the conversation, till 
 I says to O Shay, bedad, that the girl was defending 
 marriage to him, and to see her next Friday. And 
 Clarence says that if it was marrying, why, he had 
 nothing to lose by it ; which was true, for he had no 
 thing belonging to him but his pipe and his next 
 month s pay. 
 
 " T is an elegant creature it is!" says Clarence to 
 himself. And he spoke the same in his sleep from his 
 hammick. And all the next day he had absence of 
 his mind, till I kept telling him he was in love ; and 
 Clarence would ask was he, sure ? And it tickled him 
 like a young mother. On Friday forenoon he give 
 his head to the barber to fix it for the lady of his 
 choice _till he looked like the light-weight champion. 
 
 " I dreamt of a cottage home, all crowded with vic 
 tuals and beer," says he, smelling of bay-rum to drive 
 ye to drink. " And I 11 leave the navy when married ; 
 for, with that face asking it, she could git me a job as 
 police." 
 
74 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 Then we off to Gloria s house, and I waited in the 
 garden, thinking with me pipe, and asking meself 
 what a fine-flavored lass like Miss Mundy would want 
 with a squab like O Shay. Till I seen coming the 
 Injun with the scar, and give warning, and none too 
 soon ; for the Injun found Clarence exuding from the 
 house, and would be staring in Clarence s eye that 
 hard that Clarence believed it his duty to do him up, 
 since sooner or later a fight must be, the Injun being 
 his brother-in-law. But Gloria whispered the Injun 
 inside, and she blushed till I says to meself it was not 
 her brother at all, but was the same that would carry 
 her off last year. But what Clarence told going ship- 
 wards took it from me mind. 
 
 " T is an elegant creature it is !" says he ; " and her 
 name will be Mrs. O Shay. When I knocked she was 
 playing the organ for i Pat-says-he- what-says-h e- 
 where s-me-old-hat-says-he till me feet near run off 
 in a jig ; but when she heard the knock, and the rhi 
 noceros-faced Siwash girl opened the door, she dis 
 solved to the hymn called i Revive us onc t more, as 
 though a mistake had been made. i Oh, t is but you ! 
 says Gloria, all setting in the latest millinery. 1 1 sup 
 posed t was me father come to blow me up/ says she, 
 1 for I thought I d seen the last of you. 7 < T is me/ 
 says Ij and you not married yet? Not yet/ says 
 she, laughing, and playing the jig; for it needs a 
 brave man ; one/ says she, that can paddle his canoe 
 by night, and not afraid of me father with his gun. 
 1 T is me that s not/ says I ; * and name your time. 
 And with that she hit a few sounds, and stopped short. 
 1 Will ye take me to Silver Bay by midnight/ says she, 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 75 
 
 as if struck by a big idea, * and fetch me the chaplain 
 of the ship, with his book, to marry me? I will! 
 says I. And with that we begun to talk ; and she says 
 how she knowed t was the man for the purpose the 
 first time she seen me." 
 
 Then I spoke to the chaplain for em. 
 
 " What !" says he. " Her marry an ass like O Shay ! 
 Ye re a badly implausible man, Sudd Lannigan; 
 and a loose-fitting tailor to the truth ye are !" 
 
 "Upon me heart, sir," says I, bowing, " t is so." 
 
 " Then," says Tommy, pleased at the chance, " I 11 
 go talk to her." 
 
 And with considerable waylaying I negotiated em 
 together that evening, with the chaplain rigged out in 
 his shore clothes, with his collar that high that his 
 toes would scarce touch the ground. But Miss Gloria 
 was timorous, and she would not speak the name of 
 O Shay, gazing at the ground till ye thought she was 
 six years old, and saying that yes, her choice had been 
 made. 
 
 " And most uncommon sudden," says the chaplain ; 
 " and a bad sign for happiness. And your father will 
 disinherit ye." 
 
 " Let him do it !" says she, flaring up as though ye 
 had scratched a match. " Let him do it, and give his 
 money to save the Chinese ! Do ye think I 11 live me 
 life like this? I m nothing but a nun, the whole 
 town knows it, and his house nothing but a con 
 vent," says she, " and him a keeper that won t lemme 
 say me soul s me own. I can t go walk with a girl 
 but he says t is improper. If t was no hope of better, 
 I d drownd meself in the sea ! What chance for a 
 
76 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 human life have I, with praying from morning till 
 night, in words all guttural to me, and only hymns 
 on the organ to please him, and pretending to fast for 
 the good of me soul I What is his heathens to me 
 why, as good as him ! And better than me, that is 
 neither one nor the other, but just a young girl that 
 would wish onc t a while to laugh on Saturday night, 
 and have gentlemen friends, and dance a bit, and be 
 like the young ladies below in the States. I 11 leave 
 him and his money, if it breaks his hard old pagan 
 heart; and ye can marry me or not, and ye can tell 
 on me or not," says she, sobbing on her sleeve ; " but 
 I 11 git away if I have to swim to Juneau ; and if no 
 preacher is there, so be it, and the divil have me ; for 
 I 11 never sing another hymn nor hear a sermon as 
 long as I live, nor give a cent to the poor !" 
 
 And with that the chaplain took to comforting her 
 hands, which was his favorite trick, with me looking 
 north and south in me shame. And I seen Gloria 
 peeping at him from the corner of her eyes. 
 
 " ; T is not for me to say who ye shall marry," says 
 Tommy; "but I warn ye that a common sailorman, 
 and one of such parts as this Clarence O Shay, is a 
 bad handle to your natural advantages, which is sure 
 to attract to ye men of brains and good luck. Me 
 conscience tells me to warn ye ; but if ye think no 
 better of it, then count on me to marry ye to who ye 
 shall choose ; though 1 11 be no party to your comings 
 and goings till the minute of the ceremony." 
 
 And we come away, with the chaplain moaning to 
 himself and gesticulating of pigs and pearls. On the 
 pier was the Injun with the scar, talking with Clarence 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 77 
 
 as easy as ye like. " T is a decent young man, after 
 all," says O Shay ; " for he says howdy-do, and he says 
 ; t was all a mistake, his evil eye. T was only I look 
 like the man that stole his watch." And the Injun 
 smiled and give us a chew of his plug. T was plain 
 to see that he was the same that was shot with the 
 slug, and ye liked him for it. I did n t know then 
 that the Injun was just back from Juneau, and flying 
 only by night, so that the old man would n t suspect 
 him. 
 
 I fixed up the chaplain, and then I must take me 
 safety in me hands to arrange with Gloria her escapade 
 from the house. 
 
 "Have care for your life in this place by night," 
 says she, leaning over the fence; "for his mind is 
 portending disasters, and his temper standing on end. 
 Onc t I am married, and some one pursues me, me 
 husband can shoot him in the eye of the law. But 
 if me father with his gun should catch us leaving, t is 
 somebody killed." 
 
 " Git out !" roars old Mundy, coming to the door. 
 " Come into the house, ye adventurous girl j and ye 
 need n t eat till morning !" 
 
 And I went off without cursing him, which I lay it 
 to me credit. 
 
 T was by such that at eleven o clock one night me 
 and O Shay rowed around from the Ranch, and past 
 the castle, creeping along the beach to the Mission 
 end of the town. The sun was two hours down, and 
 the twilight gone chasing it till t was near as dark as 
 would be. And shortly we crawled in our socks 
 through the garden, and set like frogs beneath the 
 
78 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 old man s window, waiting for the tune of his snore. 
 At the sound of it, Gloria says never a word, but she 
 looks out from the second story, all wrapped in a 
 cloak; and asking no persuasion, and silent as a 
 spider, she slides down the dark on a clothes-line. 
 
 The rhinoceros girl must go, too, says she, stubborn 
 as women can be; but the rhinoceros took the cold 
 sweats, and never mind your cross-explanations, she 7 d 
 not offer herself to the air. Till Clarence shinned up 
 the rope and lowered her down with a barrel hitch, 
 kicking and puffing, and falling into me arms with a 
 yell. And old Mundy rolled from his bed with a 
 shout, and we put for the beach, the whole cavalcade, 
 with Gloria in the lead, goading the rhinoceros, and 
 little Clarence jumping the fence. And we scarce 
 had shoved off when I see the old man, half dressed 
 in a sheet, running for the shore like a frozen spirit, 
 with howling to shake the hills. 
 
 " He 11 git his gun and his canoe t is a fast one !" 
 says Gloria, standing up straight in the bow ; and ye 
 could see nothing but outlines of her, like a statue in 
 the dark. " He d better stay at home !" says she ; 
 and that she was the same that had wept with the 
 chaplain ye would n t believe. 
 
 We watched the old man galloping for his canoe ; 
 but in a minute he stopped like his wits was pulled. 
 For a stranger had rose from the canoe and paddled 
 away with it; and, as now I know, 7 t was the Injun 
 with the scar. 
 
 "Ye re dom d forever!" shouts the old man, roar 
 ing after us with his rage. 
 
 And says Gloria : " Praise the Lord ! Praise the 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 79 
 
 Lord ! Ye have n t your gun, and ye can t spoil me 
 life any more !" 
 
 " True for ye/ says O Shay, exerting himself with 
 his oar. " But who the divil is this stealing your 
 father s canoe ? " 
 
 " T is the sweetest angel on earth that did it !" says 
 Gloria, loud for a thousand yards, and hugging her 
 self for joy. T was the first word she had spoke to 
 O Shay, and that she d not noticed him more I took 
 for maidenly fear. 
 
 " So it is, me darling," says O Shay, calling atten 
 tion to himself, that was by the shortness of his length 
 but a fragment beside her. 
 
 "Ye need n t call me your darling/ says Gloria, 
 turning on him and drawing away her skirts. "And 
 mind ye don t do it again. 7 
 
 Such that Clarence got mad, and muttered to him 
 self he would call her what he dom pleased when the 
 knot was tied. And I give meself thanks for me 
 freedom from women. We seen the stranger in 
 Mundy s canoe absorbed in the gloom, with Gloria 
 spoiling our trim to watch him. Then the night was 
 on a center, and ye just made out the lines of the 
 mountains, with the lights of the town dropping out 
 as we put it astern. And me and O Shay rowed along 
 sulky ; for she set to herself like a captain, cooking 
 her own designs; and the pleasant picnic me and 
 O Shay would have made of it soured before it was 
 born. 
 
 " Why don t ye go faster I " says Gloria, in a while, 
 as though we was hired, and she at the end of impa 
 tience. " Don t ye know he 11 chase ye ? " 
 
SO UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 But we mumbles we could take care of him. We 
 was first headed seaward ; but back of an island we 
 altered our course, with Sitka disappearing, and a new 
 color of darkness forestalling the morning. The face 
 of the girl was taking shape, and I seen it all mingled 
 with gladness and gloom, like the balance of an April 
 day. And she fidgets and sighs like a tree before rain. 
 
 " Did the chaplain promise ye sure he would come ? " 
 says she, a bit sharp. " Don t say ye made a mistake ! 
 For I 11 never go back, if I lose me soul ! I hope the 
 old man s heart will dry and crack with the wind of 
 his prayers," says she or such words. " I hope he 11 
 live to die of second childhood, maltreated like me. 
 T is been the same since five year old, when he 
 would n t lemme git a doll at the Mission Christmas 
 tree, for fear of me changing belief. What s that?" 
 
 T was the ping of a bullet, with the bang of a rifle, 
 coming from some direction in the gloom t was hard 
 to tell where. The rhinoceros give a snort. 
 
 "Lay down in the bottom, all of ye !" says Gloria, 
 jumping over the thwarts till she grabbed my oar. 
 We heard another shot. " Lay down," says she, " and 
 let me row ; and when he sees me, maybe he 11 stop." 
 
 I muttered a swear, and I says did she think we was 
 dough ? 
 
 " Forward with ye, and take cover !" says I. 
 
 "Yes," says Clarence; "all hands take cover but 
 me ; for the funeral is mine, and, bedad, I 11 steer it." 
 
 " I 11 do no such thing," says Gloria, ducking at the 
 sound of another shot. 
 
 " I 11 stay where I am," says I. 
 
 "Ye 11 take orders!" says Clarence, firing up. 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 81 
 
 "Is this your wedding procession, or is it mine, ye 
 pig-headed spider!" says he, putting his thumb up 
 at me. 
 
 " It s mine," says Gloria ; " and suppose he would 
 kill the both of ye, how could I repay ye? For I 
 warn ye, ye 11 not be half rewarded for escaping me 
 from me father," says she, pushing and hauling with 
 us. I thought the boat would capsize and us drownd, 
 with our expostulations, till we noticed the old man 
 had ceased firing. The bullets had been plunked at 
 random, with the hopes of finding us out j but he had 
 lost our trail by the misleading of our voices. 
 
 " Good !" says Gloria. " Brave and honest ye are, 
 Sudd Lannigan; and don t take hard of me words. 
 T is life and death, and me locked in me room since 
 yesterday, and not a bite. For he says the evil spirit 
 must starve in me flesh. Many s the day I Ve spent 
 likewise, till I 7 d crawl down-stairs and steal food in 
 the night to keep from freezing. So don t take it 
 hard. Sure," says she then, calming her voice, "if I 
 was rich I d pay the two of ye handsome." 
 
 Even O Shay understood that such talk to the man 
 ye elope with is something ye can t understand ; and 
 Clarence blowed loud on his nose with the elegant 
 plaid pocket-handkerchief which consisted of his trous 
 seau ; but the sound of it passed by her ears. 
 
 "For I never had nothing of me own," she goes on, 
 "not even a rag doll. He says I was chose for a 
 mission, and me life belonging to God, that sent him 
 to save me. I d prefer to have died ! And will the 
 chaplain sure find the place ? " says she. 
 
 T was gitting daylight, and them eyes of hers show- 
 
82 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 ing from the pale of her cheek. We was off in the 
 wilderness, crowded by mountains thick wooded with 
 trees to the swash of the tide j and I see a clear coast 
 behind. The landing-place Gloria would fix for her 
 self, and the stopping-place, half-way up a hill, where 
 she says we would see the launch when it come. She 
 says she was cold ; and we lighted a fire, both growl 
 ing inside at her way; for she seemed to consider me 
 and O Shay, if at all, as but beasts. She had no re 
 marks, but was watching the wind, and would throw 
 weeds to the flames till the smoke curled away like 
 running to tell where we was; and all the time she 
 would be hurrying to look for the chaplain, though 
 we told her the steam-launch would bring him, and 
 blow on its whistle. Me and O Shay set drinking per 
 fumery, the whisky of civilization being barred to the 
 Territory by law j and Gloria would not participate, 
 saying such things was the curse of mankind. " T is 
 still an elegant creature it is," says O Shay, apologiz 
 ing for her, " though a bit unusual. But most of them 
 women," says he, fanning himself to look undisturbed, 
 "is all alike." And he would gaze offhand at her, 
 looking blank as it t was nothing at all, yet with 
 Gloria now and then stumbling over him and turning 
 to find what it was. Till finally Clarence s face give 
 it up, and he set beating the ground with his fist. 
 And for me, I mumbled it was a ladies pleasure-party 
 him and me was flunkies to. Then she see our dis 
 temper j and with that she threw back her head, with 
 her hands on her hips, and discovered her teeth with 
 smiles. 
 
 " I thought it the custom of gentlemen sailors to 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 83 
 
 drink to the health of the ladies present," says she ; 
 " and here ye are, like pigs in the trough !" 
 
 " Then here & to the health of Miss Gloria Mundy," 
 says I j " and may the corners of your mouth always 
 point to the sky." 
 
 " And never regret that ye rose to be Mrs. O Shay," 
 says Clarence, swelling his chest. 
 
 By her advice, we drank to the rhinoceros, though 
 more for the sake of the drink ; and then to the chap 
 lain j and then to the man that stole Father Mundy s 
 canoe which I did n t know then was the Injun with 
 the scar. 
 
 "For he s ten times the best of any of ye," says 
 Gloria, singing it as though our liquor had gone to 
 her head. 
 
 The time begun going fast, and the sun painting 
 the sky ; and the perfumery sent up Clarence s spirits 
 till he says, after all, t was an elegant lass she was. 
 She stood high on a mound behind the fire, with her 
 black hair loose and flying in her face, and her nose 
 as straight as a rule; and she laughed with excite 
 ment, with the smoke flaunting up between us and 
 her, till your heart flapped with admiration. 
 
 "Long life to me Mrs. O Shay !" shouts little Clar 
 ence, exulting over her like an apple on a bough j and 
 he could stand it no longer, but ups and afters her, 
 calling, " A kiss to sweeten me drink, me darling !" 
 
 But just then we heard the smashing of bushes , 
 and here, in the crack of a thumb, we seen appearing, 
 first the Injun with the scar, with a rope tied round 
 his neck, ready for hanging ; then old Mundy himself, 
 in his shirt, trousers, and beard, holding the end of 
 
84 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 the rope, and prodding the Injun in the rear with a 
 rifle. The rhinoceros lit out for the woods. 
 
 " Ye will kidnap me daughter, ye brace of man- 
 thieves I" says the old man, with the rifle resting on 
 his arm and pointing at the group of us. " Ye mil 
 combine to marry her to a sneaking aboriginee like 
 this I have on the end of a string !" says he. " God 
 would forgive me for shooting him now." 
 
 " You leave him alone !" says Gloria, making a rush 
 for the weapon, and turning it off. " I m done with 
 your wild dervish tactics," says she. " If it s shoot 
 ing, shoot me. 
 
 " Off, ye lost angel !" cries old Mundy. " There s 
 not one of ye fit to live. The divil has one and all of 
 ye, and I would do the service of God if I blowed ye 
 all back to Satan in a heap." 
 
 Me and O Shay made a grab, and twisted his fire 
 arms away from him, him frothing at the mouth with 
 rage. In the midst of it we heard the whistle of the 
 steam-launch, that had gone by without our knowing, 
 and stopped a short way beyond. We seen the Injun 
 and Gloria running off together up the trail. 
 
 "Head em off!" shouts t>~ old man. "They re 
 gone to elope with each oth - . 
 
 "Divil a bit," says O Shay. " T is me that your 
 daughter has came here to marry; and ye can ram 
 that information hard down the bowl of your pipe." 
 
 "You ye little red Irish flea!" says the old man 
 or such words. " Then what for do the two of em 
 chase off holding each other s hands ? " 
 
 Then I seen what was the explanation of Gloria for 
 all of our time in the boat. 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 85 
 
 " Ye can give it up, little man/ says I, laying me 
 hand on Clarence s shoulder. " She s put up the job 
 to marry the Injun, and you nothing but the baboon s 
 paw to draw the old man s fire." 
 
 But ye might as well explain to his thick little skull 
 as a stone. 
 
 " Avast !" he bawls. " I 11 chase her till me feet 
 wears off me stumps!" shaking his fist at her; and 
 he put off up the mountain-side, with his two little 
 bandy legs twinkling like spokes of a wheel, and me 
 and old Mundy pursuing the rear. The trail led up 
 around a spur and down the other flank, to meet the 
 steam-launch. Away went the five of us, leaping like 
 hare and hounds at a hurdle-race, with Gloria leading 
 the line up the steep, and skipping like air over trees 
 and boulders, and wearing, as I remember to this 
 day, brown stockings on her feet. 
 
 " Come here !" yells Clarence, his voice smelling loud 
 with perfumery. " For I 11 chase ye till the hairs of 
 me head is as missing as an egg !" 
 
 But never a word says Gloria, running like a 
 chammy, and her face white with fear. I seen her 
 throw up her chin and shut her teeth, then draw away 
 like a winner, with the Injun behind her, still drag 
 ging the rope from his neck. We come where the 
 trail split and joined further on ; and Gloria took the 
 long of it, fearing the short of it, that led by the edge 
 of a sharp decline. She disappeared around the bend, 
 and the ground give way beneath our feet, and the 
 three of us stopped and grabbed each other. At the 
 same time I suddenly see ten thousand cataclysms of 
 brown stockings exploding in the air. I found meself 
 
8($ UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 hurling through space, handhold of old Mundy s beard, 
 and with total disregard to the laws of gravitation. 
 
 When I returned to meself, it was laying on me 
 back, afraid to more than half open me eyes for fear 
 the jar of it would bring down the rest of the moun 
 tain. The fresh dirt was commingling with me face 
 and insides, and all around I heard the light swash of 
 the ripples of the bay, which laid lapping me feet, 
 with a bald eagle looking down at me from a tree-top 
 with its eye. 
 
 Then I heard a trembling voice behind me. 7 T was 
 old Mundy praying, with a bloody nose. The Lord 
 had seen fit to spare his own half-sinful life, says he, 
 while at the same time executing judgment on the two 
 rascally villains that laid dead beside him. But he 
 says he hoped the Lord would have mercy on our 
 souls j for he would n t enter no complaints if we was 
 spared from a hot hereafter and let wander in space, 
 groaning over our misdeeds. He begun mumbling 
 out of a prayer-book the service for dead souls, wind 
 ing up with : " O Lord, forgive them their transgres 
 sions. Amen \" 
 
 In the middle of it I set up and looked for little 
 Clarence. I seen him like a log at the water s edge, 
 with the rising tide spattering his face, that was gray 
 as a fistful of putty. 
 
 "Ye brass old Cogswell image! 7 says I. "What 
 do ye sit there for, with a man drownding to death 
 behind your back ? " 
 
 I stooped over to haul little Clarence up and empty 
 the water from him. Old Mundy jumped out of his 
 skin, and landed on me back. 
 
THE TRANSIT OF GLORIA MUNDY 87 
 
 " T is you you that connived this conspiracy, ye 
 white-headed sepulcher !" says he. " Take that, and 
 that, and that, ye Satan !" says he. And he ham 
 mered me with his prayer-book till it went to pieces 
 and filled the air that full of beseeches as a church 
 chimney. The profanity of it lost me me temper, arid 
 I bucked him into the water, where he sizzled for a 
 second like a live coal. 
 
 " Come to, Clarence, me boy !" says I, shaking him, 
 and glad at the color of life that showed in his face. 
 
 "Is the ceremony over?" says Clarence, with his 
 eyes shut. 
 
 " T was no ceremony," says I. " T was a landslide." 
 
 " And me wife ? " says Clarence, a bit confused. 
 
 " Begad," says I, " your wife has gone to her 
 wedding." 
 
 The launch come panting around the point. 
 
 "Have ye seen Miss Gloria Mundy, sir?" says I. 
 
 " I just married her to the Injun with the scar," 
 says the chaplain. "And good luck t was not your 
 drunken O Shay. Dear me, what >s the matter of 
 him ? " 
 
 We all looked off at a sail-boat scudding with the 
 Injun and the rhinoceros and Gloria. Old Mundy 
 sent up a howl. 
 
 " She that I bred to save souls !" says he. 
 
 "And two pints of perfumery smashed in me 
 breeches !" says O Shay, mumbling. 
 
 And says the chaplain, with a smile : " Sick transit, 
 Gloria Mundy !" 
 
 " I wish her the same," says I to meself j " for she 
 did n t treat Clarence square." 
 
A HARD ROAD TO ANDY COGGIN S 
 
A HARD EOAD TO ANDY COGGIX S 
 
 HE naked statues stared at us along 
 the hall, each one as if to say, 
 "What the divil is two common 
 men doing in this private palace, 
 anyway?" But they did n t faze 
 me, for I knew all about em from 
 a newspaper clipping which by chance I had in me 
 pocket j and says I to Clarence O Shay : 
 
 " Do ye know the carpet you re standing on cost 
 thirty-five dollars a yard ? " 
 
 " The saints !" says Clarence, stepping off of it. 
 " Do ye know the mosaic floor you re standing on 
 now cost thirty-five dollars a foot f " says I. 
 
 " The divil himself !" says Clarence, stepping back 
 on the carpet. 
 
 "And the man that owns it all is worth twenty- 
 eight millions in gold," says I. 
 
 Clarence s eyes bulged out like little blue beads on 
 a golliwog. 
 
 "Could he come by as much as that honest?" 
 says he. 
 
 "Sure," says I. "For the stealing was done by 
 his ancestors ; and his mother that rich by continual 
 marriage and divorce that she never carried the same 
 handkerchief twice, but put it away in a drawer." 
 
 91 
 
92 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 The suspicious eye of the lackey in the white shirt 
 and swallowtail come back down the marble stairs 
 and shrugged his nose at us. 
 
 " No one in this house knows anything about you 
 two/ 7 says he, laying hold of the door. 
 
 " Did n t the gentleman tell us to come here," says 
 Clarence, " and did n t he give us his pasteboard ? " 
 
 " Oh, maybe he did," says the lackey, " and then, 
 again, maybe you picked up his card in the street." 
 And with that he opened the door to the night and 
 let in a breath of the fogj and me and Clarence fin 
 gered our caps with rage. 
 
 "Hold on, William !" commands a voice in patent- 
 leather shoes, running down the stairs, all pink with 
 haste. "You are the two men which Mr. Wallace 
 said he would hunt up for me ; and you re just in the 
 nick of time." 
 
 " Yes, sir," says I. " The gentleman told us you d 
 pay us ten dollars and a pleasant evening" 
 
 " And a hot dinner, which we ain t had any," says 
 Clarence. 
 
 "Yes, sir," says I. "But what the gentleman 
 wanted us to do for you in return he did n t have 
 time to describe, but told us to run" 
 
 "And you re just in the nick of time," says the 
 absent-minded Poet, which we saw he was from his 
 overgrowed hair and the fiddling of his hands. " I do 
 hope you understand we want the real thing," says 
 he, " as far as possible." 
 
 " We have no idea what you want us to do," says I, 
 inviting his explanations. 
 
 " They are made of wood," says the Poet, musing to 
 
A HARD ROAD TO ANDY COGGIN S 93 
 
 himself, while me and Clarence looked questions at 
 each other ; " but they will sound all right, I think," 
 says the Poet. "And what I want especial to say 
 oh, there goes the music ! Come on !" 
 
 And in the gasp of his own breath he galloped up 
 the polished stairs, with me and Clarence chasing his 
 paper dancing-pumps like four cobblestones past 
 long corridors, and lady s-maids, and boys in buttons, 
 as many as a dream, every one staring at us like the 
 flight of strange birds, and we all the time guessing 
 as to what he wanted us for and what it was that was 
 made of wood. Till the Poet burst through a door 
 and we after him ; and all of a sudden here was me 
 and Clarence in Newport, behind the scenes of a pri 
 vate theatricals, up to our chins in society. 7 T was 
 such a swarm of the wives, daughters, sons, maid 
 servants, and man-lackeys of millionaires, all running 
 this way and that, and smelling of cut flowers and 
 violet- water, and jingling with jewelry and glittering 
 with clothes, that me and Clarence was nigh over 
 come with the altitude of it, and would have liked to 
 crawl off in the dark like two mongrel pups at a dog 
 show. 
 
 The Poet had burrowed himself in the crowd ; but 
 here comes William, and says I, smiling kind : " Will 
 you please ask the gentleman what is it that s made 
 of wood ? " And says William : " No, I will not !" 
 
 We said to ourselves had he fetched us to play on 
 something of wood, like the castanets or the violin, 
 for which we had none of the gift ? And we begun to 
 feel as foolish as two plumbers called in on the run 
 to a case of nose-bleed. And, besides, the Poet would 
 
94 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 seem to have clean forgot of us, and the stares of the 
 women kept pinning us close to the wall, like two 
 foreign insecks. Till Clarence, that had his appetite 
 all spread for the hot dinner that no one would bring 
 us, and could not keep his morals upright without 
 ballast of food, begun to take hard of the passage of 
 time, and says he : 
 
 " Come away from this foolish place, and let s keep 
 on to Andy Coggin s and get a plate of beans." 
 
 And, to sweeten your temper, comes William and 
 boosted us off of the stage, and says did we think was 
 the cream of society aching to witness our beauty ? 
 
 " Oh, yes," says Clarence to me, in a burst. " Get 
 off the stage, and get off the earth that ? s the way it 
 is with them swells. This place may be all right," 
 says he, loud enough for every one ; " but I m going 
 down to Andy Coggin s to get a plate of beans." 
 
 And the women all opened their mouths to each 
 other like dying fish, till me face tanned with shame. 
 But a friend of the Poet says he : 
 
 " I m glad you ve come j for we could n t have had 
 the play without you. I suppose you ve tried 
 em on ? " 
 
 "Tried on what?" says I. "What is it we re 
 wanted to do ? " 
 
 And he put his finger to his mouth and pointed to 
 the curtain; and up it went, with me and Clarence 
 stranded in the wings, and no more intelligent than 
 when we entered the house. 
 
 We see a background of good-looking maidens all 
 setting in the woods ; and one that I will say was as 
 handsome as ever need be, she was the main con- 
 
A HARD ROAD TO ANDY COGGIN S 95 
 
 sideration of the play. And says she, all speaking in 
 rhymes and fine simile and such high-sounding lan 
 guage as no poor girl could afford, the gist of the 
 following : 
 
 " I m a most misfortunate young person from down 
 here at Tholwick-in-the-Glen. And though I do look 
 as if I was up too early this morning, me character is 
 beyond approach. For the fact is," says she, breaking 
 into tears, "just now when the sun was not yet gild 
 ing rosy on the mountain-tops, some one waked up 
 me father waked him up before he was out of his 
 bed, and killed him with the cruel end of a stick. 
 And me, poor romantic bird, I m out looking for me 
 uncle, that was reputed to be hunting the wild boar 
 this morning or else," says she, throwing both eyes 
 on the floor, " some handsome young knight that 
 would love me for meself alone. But," says she, blub 
 bering again (and Clarence was deep affected), "no 
 one appears to like me style, and the best thing I d 
 do is to crawl in some hole and die, like a tired dove !" 
 
 But on jumps the Hero, a strapping young foot-ball 
 kicker from Harvard, shining in his armor like a 
 brass tea-pot. 
 
 "What a lovely young thing like you!" says he. 
 " Why, when you walk in the garden the lilies turn 
 green, and a bee stopped for some time at your lips, 
 I hear, thinking your words was honey. Show me 
 him that slew your parent, and I 11 write his name 
 in the skies of evil fame," says he, " for 1 7 m Sir Hoth- 
 ryn ; and to-night, sweet Yvernelle, you and me will 
 be married with the end of the candles that buried the 
 old man." 
 
96 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " Never!" says the Villain, breaking through the 
 door of his castle and landing between em. " Young 
 man," says he, " you promised your hand in marriage 
 to me daughter Tlmthelred. Leave this stray virgin 
 alone, and go into the house and make love to Thu- 
 thelred, ye forgetful beggar, or else meet trouble. For 
 I in a bad man, and suspected of killing not only 
 Yvernelle s father, but yours, too." 
 
 "Then, bedad!" says the Hero, "I consider meself 
 justified in keeping me word of honor to the fair 
 Yvernelle. Look/ says he, pointing up at another 
 young woman that stepped on the stage and got lost 
 in the flare of the Heroine s beauty, "observe the 
 approach of the villainous Thuthelred. That woman 
 is swearing to keep you and me apart; but, on me 
 soul," says the Hero, "I swear that you, Yvernelle, 
 are a better-looking girl than this Thuthelred." 
 
 "What," says the Villain, "her prettier than my 
 Thuthelred ? A slap in the face of me honor !" 
 
 And with that the orchestra struck up with chords 
 of disharmony, and the Villain cut a round hole with 
 his sword in the air, and jumped through it to get at 
 the Hero, that had come off with nothing but a dirk ; 
 and the only thing that saved the Hero s life was the 
 coming down of the curtain. 
 
 " And never a hiss !" said Clarence, waving his hand 
 in disgust at the stage. " They can sit and hear of a 
 young girl s father treated like that, and they never 
 give vent to a word of objection a fine creature like 
 that," says he, " and pretty as ever was made ! And 
 that Hero was no good ; for why did n t he pick up a 
 cobble and make an end of that man with the sword ? 
 
A HARD ROAD TO ANDY COGGIN S 97 
 
 I ve always heard ill of the aristocracy/ says he, all 
 vacant with hunger, " and now I believe it ; and in 
 such a place where doings like that is received with 
 applause I will not remain !" 
 
 " And you two stopping here all this time !" says the 
 Poet, red with exasperation. " How in the world do 
 you know if they ll fit!" 
 
 " What fit ? Fit what ? " says I. 
 
 " Look here, mister," says Clarence ; " I don t know 
 what it is that I don t know whether it fits, and I don t 
 know what it is that is made of wood 5 but whatever 
 it is, I can neither play on it, eat it, nor spend it for 
 beer j and this place is all crazy, and I m going down 
 to Andy Coggin s to get a plate of beans." 
 
 "No, no hold him!" says the Poet. "What will 
 me play be without the fight ? Could n t ye see that 
 from reading the book?" says he, answering several 
 questions from millionaires in the same breath. 
 
 " What book ? What fight ? " says we. 
 
 " Oh, t is most extraordinary if ye have n t under 
 stood," says he, with impatience, brushing every one 
 else aside and dragging us into a room. " Here s the 
 two suits of armor," says he, " and why don t you get 
 into em? And here s your wooden swords. And 
 there s half a bowl of punch. And what I want you 
 to do is precisely this: just a minute," says he 5 and 
 a lady s-maid hauled him away. 
 
 Clarence got that amused by the punch that he let 
 me fit him into his sheet-iron vest, with the arms and 
 legs of a lobster. 
 
 " T is the liquor of the aristocracy," says he, with 
 his head in the bowl; "and I m wondering how long 
 
98 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 before I 11 arrive at some opinion of it." And he grew 
 that tame I could put the sheet-iron head on him, with 
 the face that opened and shut ; and then, when he had 
 absorbed the dregs of the punch, he gave the ghost of 
 a smile. But when I stood him up complete and creak 
 ing in the rivets, he begun to complain of the ancients 
 for fighting in such foolish clothes, and I knew he was 
 running dow r n again, and had arrived at no opinion 
 of his liquor at all. 
 
 " Them spider-legs of yours is the most awkward I 
 ever see," says he, watching me try with the armor, 
 and him all at outs with creation. 
 
 " Them ancients was all dwarfs," says I, sharing his 
 humor ; " and this tin trousers is a total misfit." 
 
 " That s right," says he j " say I m a dwarf. And 
 you get me all jailed inside of this crazy invention, 
 and then you call it all off ! The whole place is mis 
 fits," says he, jumping up, all maudlin with famine. 
 " The liquor is weak as pap. And that Angora Poet 
 ignores me, and that William de Stiffneck insults me. 
 And never a taste of food, though ye hint as loud as 
 a parrot in its cage. And I m going to take this tin 
 foolishness off me back," says he, fiddling violent with 
 the armor, " and I m going down to Andy Coggin s to 
 get what s the matter of it ? " says he, wrestling with 
 his iron gloves and trying to find his hands and feel 
 for the buckles of his breastplate. "How do I get 
 out of this?" says he, raising his voice beyond all 
 decency. "Do I back up ag hV the wall and break 
 the shell of it like a flea? Le me out of here !" says 
 he, growing frantic. He dashed himself ag in the 
 wall, and caromed off, jingling like a tinsmith. " Un- 
 
A HARD KOAD TO ANDY COGGIN S 99 
 
 screw me head off of this !" he commands, pulling at 
 his helmet. "Ye 11 not, then, will ye?" says he. 
 And with that he took up a chair and hit himself that 
 hard in the helmet that it knocked him down on the 
 floor. 
 
 "What s the matter here?" says the Poet, break 
 ing through the door. 
 
 " It s beans beans !" shouts Clarence, gesticulating 
 with his legs like a beetle on its back. " I m on me 
 way to Andy Coggin s to get a plate of beans !" 
 
 " Maybe the smell of food would revive him," says 
 I, withholding me sarcasm. 
 
 " Here !" says the Poet, snatching a strange pastry 
 from William s tray. T was a bit of cream paste hit 
 up with a stick till it looked like the froth on a beer, 
 and rolled inside of a cooky the thick of a post-card j 
 and the Poet opens Clarence s helmet and passes it in 
 to him. 
 
 " What s this?" says Clarence. 
 
 " T is food," says the Poet. 
 
 "Food?" says Clarence, with a gulp. "Ye call 
 that food ! I open me mouth for a hot repast, and, 
 bedad ! ye give me a half-gust of wind beat up with 
 an egg ! Take this Poet away," says Clarence ; " take 
 him away, or I 11 do meself harm with me feelings." 
 
 Then me and the Poet took consultation, and I come 
 back to Clarence. 
 
 " There s supper waiting at the end of the play," 
 says I. " And the man ye re to duel with will be that 
 William the lackey, that says he was once in the cav 
 alry ; for I m too big for the armor, and William is 
 just your size. And the Poet says that the cause of 
 
100 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 the fight will be your trying to save this beantif ul 
 Yvernelle from the hands of that Villain and William." 
 
 "For her?" says Clarence, jumping up. "And 
 ag in that William ? Why did n t ye say that before ? 
 Come right along and give me the cue. Look at that, 
 now/ he whispers, pointing to the Villain, that was 
 dragging the fine young lady by a chain to a tree. 
 " People turn out for to see a poor girl maltreated like 
 that ! Yes, yes, I know 7 t is only a play j but where s 
 the fun of it, and her face as sweet as the Countess 
 of Cork ? What does this William say to that ? " says 
 Clarence, all loose in the tongue with excitement; 
 " and what do I say to him back ? " 
 
 " Whist !" says I. " The Poet has give me the book 
 of the play, and I m finding your place." 
 
 " O cruel foe," says the poor girl, praying to the 
 Villain, "here s me father slain at sunrise, me mother 
 poisoned while saying the morning prayers, and now 
 you stole me safeguard, me magic ruby, while I was 
 washing me face at yonder purling brook. Heaven 
 will get even with you for this !" says she. 
 
 "Me innocent dove," says the Villain, "let s turn 
 over a new leaf and forget that t was me that slew 
 your father and mother !" 
 
 And here in the wings, with his wooden sword, 
 stood the proud lackey William, iron-sheathed from 
 the middle to his ends, and ready to back the Villain 
 for any blackguard trick that might be, with Clar 
 ence s hair bristling at the sight of him. 
 
 " T is a tragedy," I whispers to Clarence. "You 
 are the noble friend of Sir Hothryn the Hero j and the 
 Poet says, above all things, fight strong, and not weak." 
 
A HARD ROAD TO ANDY COOKY S J lOT ; 
 
 " Yes, yes," says Clarence, " strong, and not weak. 
 And a fine-looking head she has, and elegant feet," 
 says he. expanding with pleasure. "And poor Wil 
 liam ! What will I do with his comic remains when 
 I have him out of his shell ? " 
 
 " Whist ! I 7 ve not arrived at the killing," says I, 
 blowing at the pages. 
 
 "Poor William!" says Clarence, with a chuckle. 
 A heavenly smile was bathing him head to foot ; and 
 he dropped the vizard of his helmet to hide his expec 
 tations. " Bedad ! I will make you an entertainment 
 of that William !" says he, tickling himself with the 
 words. " Bedad ! I will make a climax of him !" 
 
 " Clarence !" says I, all jutting with perspiration. 
 
 "What, dear?" says he. 
 
 The words stuck in me throat. How could I break 
 to him what I had read ? 
 
 "Clarence dear," says I, "it says in this book of 
 instructions that the end of the fight the end of the 
 fight" and here I broke down. 
 
 " Yes, yes," says Clarence, all beaming with light 
 through the holes in his armored face. " Do I dig a 
 hole in him with me sword and bury him in it ? " 
 
 "According to the book," says I, swallowing me 
 heart, " the end of the fight is a tragedy. And Sir 
 Hothryn does n t rescue the young lady at all, but gets 
 killed. And the killing is done by William ; and just 
 before that why, William is required to kill Sir 
 Gathred ; and Sir Gathred that s you !" 
 
 J T was as though I had stepped on me pet canary in 
 the middle of its song. From that moment from his 
 helmet, that had grown as light-hearted as a baby, 
 
UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 exuded never a sigh nor a sign. " Did n t ye under 
 stand?" says I, tapping his iron shoulder. But his 
 whole suit of armor hung like an empty one in the 
 Tower of London. I opened his face and looked inside 
 of him. There he was ; but his mouth was as tight as 
 a clam, and I could n t catch his eye. I made a circle 
 of him : but when I looked here, his eye traveled there ; 
 and when I looked there, his eye traveled here. And 
 I bit me lips like the taste of a funeral psalm, and 
 mopped great drops of fear and doubt from me brow 
 with the back of me hand. 
 
 For Yvernelle, besides, was pulling us all by the 
 nerves. Ye d thought t was true she was stolen 
 away from her lover, and had no hope and no friends ; 
 and such was the melancholy of her voice and the 
 clank of her chains that ten little misses in the front 
 row all blew their nose and would not look sidewise. 
 
 " Clarence dear," says I, walking on eggs, " t is a 
 bit misfortunate, sure; but you would n t think of 
 refusing to die, since t is meant so in the Poet s book, 
 of course 1 " 
 
 He snapped down his vizard and closed himself in 
 in the dark ; and all me answer was a blood-curdling 
 moan from Miss Yvernelle ; for the Villain had just 
 tried to pat her hand, and the end was approaching. 
 
 " Clarence dear, could n t ye speak ? " says I. His 
 eyes was set across the stage like diamonds, glittering 
 on the opposite William. 
 
 At that moment the Hero shinned over the castle 
 wall and stepped on the Villain s toe and called him a 
 hideous mask. The two rushed off fighting in the 
 wings, with the orchestra doing shivers on the minor 
 
A HARD EOAD TO ANDY COGGIN S 103 
 
 strings, and Yvernelle stitching back and forth, all 
 stewing with tenter-hooks, till back comes the Villain 
 with a groan. 
 
 " Hothryn has cut off all me thumbs !" wails the 
 Villain, falling down. " Arrest him for carrying a 
 magic sword !" And on struggles the Hero, and gets 
 chained by three farmers to the same tree with Yver 
 nelle. 
 
 " T is the end, at last; 7 says she, breaking down. 
 
 " Clarence," says I, " t is your turn soon. You will 
 have reason and let William kill you comfortable ?" 
 
 But he stood as silent as his picture. 
 
 " Farewell, Hothryn," says the Villain. " You was 
 a brave young knight ; but you got tangled in another 
 man s rope, and I 11 have you executed at once, on 
 charge of heresy. Summon Sir Tancred !" 
 
 And on drops William, like a bantam from the hand. 
 Clarence gave motions of life. I listened outside of 
 him, and me thermometer fell within me j for I heard 
 him getting up steam. 
 
 " Farewell, me love, then," says Yvernelle, between 
 her tears. " I 11 make a funeral of meself as soon as 
 you are dead." 
 
 " Hold !" says Hothryn. " I ve just heard the horn 
 of me faithful friend Sir Gathred. Art thou a man, 
 Sir Tancred 1 Wilt fight Sir Gathred ? " 
 
 " I will !" says William, as stern as turning away 
 peddlers from the door. He began stamping his foot 
 and cutting out fancy silhouettes with his sword. I 
 laid me hand on Clarence like a boiler planning to 
 burst. 
 
 " O Shay darling for good manners sake !" says I. 
 
104 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " Hasten, Sir Gathred!" commands Hothryn, tip 
 ping us the wink. "On you hangs all my sun and 
 stars !" 
 
 Then I shut me eyes like jumping off a cliff in a 
 dream ; and Clarence give a leap and exploded in the 
 middle of the stage. 
 
 When I looked up I knew that the worst had begun. 
 The audience had risen in their seats. The Hero and 
 Yvernelle stood frozen together with astonished hands, 
 the Poet gesticulating with a face like quinine, and the 
 servants all pallid with fear. And in the center of it 
 whirled William as Tancred and Clarence as Gathred, 
 fuming and clashing like wild iron hornets, with the 
 orchestra crashing and blaring like in ad. They 
 squared off one second for breath ; then they collided 
 together like two evil angels ; and William fell down 
 with the magnitude of a chandelier, and arose again, 
 and fled, bedad ! like a hairless dog, leaving pieces of 
 himself behind him, and calling out to the saved, with 
 Clarence pursuing him like the wild Juggernaut, till 
 they both got drownded in the cellar, by the roar of 
 the audience and the shrieks of the servant-maids. 
 
 The Hero and Yvernelle looked at each other all 
 mouthless. How was he going to die, with no one to 
 kill him ? Or she to poison herself without reason ? 
 
 " Go on with the words do something die die !" 
 shouts the Poet, in a whisper from the wings. 
 
 But the words would have sounded too foolish, with 
 Clarence and William still passing away like a thun 
 der-storm in the cellar. The eye of the beholders went 
 sudden to the Villain, that had laid still with his 
 wounds, and had watched the fight with his back to 
 
A HARD ROAD TO ANDY COGGIN S 105 
 
 the footlights. He was writhing and red in the face 
 beyond control, that irreverent he was, and laughing 
 at the cruel mess that O Shay had made of the play. 
 
 " For Heaven s sake ! can t somebody do some 
 thing?" calls the Poet, his voice half tears, and the 
 audience wondering what was the hitch. 
 
 "All right," says the Villain, shaking like jelly. 
 He rolled over to the audience. " Alas !" says he, with 
 a frightful face, holding up his two decapitated 
 thumbs, " me wounds have proved fatal ! Hothryn 
 and Yvernelle, join hands for the dance of life !" he 
 shouts. " For t is evident," he says, with a grin that 
 near split his face in twain, "that the Fates never 
 intended ye should perish. 1 m dying," says he, with 
 a horrible smile, " and well I m paid for this day s 
 work. Now, ye wooden image," says he, rolling over 
 to the man at the rope, "come down with your 
 curtain !" 
 
 And down it went, to a tumult stupendous. Clar 
 ence come up from the cellar alone. 
 
 " You ignorant fool !" squeaks the Poet, with rage. 
 " You, with your beastly knock-about you, with your 
 low-lived horse-play " 
 
 But in burst the door and a mob of millionaires. 
 
 " Hurrah !" says they. " Girls all sobbing in every 
 direction, and that surprise that blood-stirring com 
 bat at the end when ye had us all worked up believ 
 ing t would turn out a tragedy ! Masterly !" says they. 
 " The finest thing in the language ! And let s have 
 something to eat." 
 
 I found a short cut across the lawn to that door 
 where William had insulted us. There, in the mist 
 
106 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 and electric light, was Clarence, coming down the steps 
 in all his armor, shining like Hamlet s father. 
 
 " Where the divil ye going ? " says I. 
 
 "Have no conversation with me," says he, waving 
 his wooden sword, " and keep company with yourself. 
 I m on me way to Andy Coggin s to get a plate of 
 beans." 
 
 Then he swallowed himself in the fog ; and I heard 
 the howl of a dog that ran off with its tail at half- 
 mast. 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 
 
 RELATED to ye once how when we 
 was dawdling down to Andy Coggin s 
 place to get a plate of beans, we was 
 enlisted off the street to fight a duel 
 in the full armor of the middle ages 
 at a millionaire s private theatricals. 
 But because they did n t treat Clarence right, and his 
 appetite had made him evil-minded, why, he ups in a 
 terrible huff and leaves the house with still the armor 
 on him. Clarence come down off the millionaire s 
 steps as shining as a man in a ballet, and turned him 
 self loose in the streets of Newport at midnight, clank 
 ing like Hamlet s ghost and carrying a wooden sword. 
 He d not gone forty rods before he sent an old woman 
 puckering up her petticoats and squawking off through 
 the fog like a fowl. Then, bedad, he begun to wonder 
 if it was n t a trifle sudden of his temper to be chasing 
 away by himself, wrapped up in this kind of accoutre 
 ment. 
 
 And such being his emotions, all soldered up as he 
 was inside his helmet, and sweating like a man in a 
 diving-suit, Clarence could not keep on the honest road 
 between the electric lights, but he had to lay his course 
 on the broad open lawns of several contidgious estates 
 where the grass was more silent to the clink of his feet ; 
 
 109 
 
110 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 and he says to himself if he heard the pglice he would 
 pose as a new bronze statue. Till presently he sees a 
 fancy iron fence before him, and he says he would 
 hang himself by the small of his back on one of the 
 spikes and turn a back somerset to split off the armor. 
 But first he had to pass by a house with an open win 
 dow. There was a young man sitting at the window, 
 and staring out at the June-bugs that was flitting 
 through the mist to get at the light of the chandelier 
 inside. The young man had his chin in his hand, and 
 there was an empty skull and a big fat sheepskin book 
 on the table beside him so J m thinking 7 t was some 
 youngster that was learning to be a doctor and found 
 himself in the mood for diversions. And Clarence s 
 modesty would n t let him be seen in such a strange 
 dress as he was, and so Clarence makes to be all care 
 ful arid run quiet past, beneath the window, in the 
 sharp patch of dark where the light did n t strike. 
 Which he did; but at the same time he falls several 
 feet beneath the window down a coal-hole, with a 
 clatter of sheet-iron and general consternation like 
 a row in a boiler-shop. 
 
 Then up jumps the young man and fetches his elec 
 tric lamp to the window ; and when he illuminates the 
 coal-hole from above he sees an extraordinary little 
 object, all cased in metal, trying to crawl out of the 
 place, and bluing the air with exclamations of his 
 feelings, and falling back each time like a bug in a 
 glass bottle. No doubt the youngster says to himself 
 that such a man was either crazy or ought to be. 
 And when Clarence looks up and sees the quiet smile 
 beaming on the youngster s face, it made Clarence 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 111 
 
 hot; and says lie, " Good-evening, ye fool; did ye 
 never see a man in a coal-hole before ! " And still the 
 youngster beams that contented smile on him, till 
 Clarence says aloud, " The boy is crazy, if there ever 
 was one !" and he shuts down the door of his helmet 
 and takes on to sulk. In a minute he feels something 
 dangling ag in his bosom-plate. 
 
 " Dearly beloved brother/ says the youngster, " tie 
 the end of the lawn-tennis rope around your waist. 
 For 1 ve wine and cigars awaiting ye here. I was 
 full of me thoughts," he explains, all grave as a graven 
 image ; " for it might have been that it might n t have 
 been," says he, " except for the coal-hole." 
 
 And in a minute, with hauling and pulling, Clarence 
 delivers himself through the window at the end of 
 the rope, like a lobster out of the sea. And all to his 
 surprise, here he was in an elegant mansion, with the 
 signs of superfluous wealth sticking all over the walls, 
 and being received as a private guest by this young 
 ster that was as tall as a giraffe and as solemn as a 
 mock funeral. And little Clarence and him looks at 
 each other, and they blinks as sober as though divil 
 a joke had been let loose in the entire world since the 
 fall of man. 
 
 " By pursuing your eccentricities along with mine, 
 we may arrive at a law of nature," says the young 
 ster, with an encouraging smile. "For I observe 
 you re the opposite of me in most particulars," says 
 he ; " and since extremes is accused by philosophy of 
 meeting at the ends, then here we are." 
 
 Clarence looks at him back, then scratches his hel 
 met, trying to get at his little red head ; and he says 
 
112 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 to himself that either he was up ag in one of the most 
 learned men of the times or else a lunatic. 
 
 " I did n t get the whole of your question," says 
 Clarence, playing it all polite, " owing to the fog set 
 tling in me ear. But I suppose ye 11 insinuate some 
 explanation of this tin foolishness I have on me back. 
 Well, ye see, I was merely following down me way to 
 Andy Coggin s this evening, with the intention" 
 
 "Beg pardon," says the youngster, with elegant 
 breeding, " but would you mind beginning with some 
 history of your father and mother, and what com 
 plaints was common to them" 
 
 " But what the divil would that have to do with me 
 going down to Andy Coggin s to get a plate of beans ? " 
 says Clarence, pointing with his sword. 
 
 " It breaks me heart to interrupt ye," says the young 
 ster, with his hand up like a parson ; " but just a few 
 preliminary remarks on the type of your main hallu 
 cinations, and whether chronic or intermittent, would 
 throw considerable light " 
 
 "Now you re talking electricity," says Clarence, 
 seeing a lot of strange instruments about the room, 
 " and sure I don t know one spark from another. But, 
 anyway, what would that have to do with me going 
 down to Andy Coggin s" 
 
 " Me brother," says the youngster, " I was approach 
 ing the question: how long have you enjoyed insanity?" 
 
 " Me insane !" says Clarence. " I was never insane 
 in me life." 
 
 "Yes, yes; but, man to man," whispers the young 
 ster, " how long since ye lost complete control of your 
 mind?" 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 113 
 
 " Sure, I never lost me mind," says Clarence j " but 
 I do begin to suspect that you did." 
 
 "Oh, have peace with yourself," says the young 
 ster, all soothing. "Let s burn incense," says he, 
 " and look for truth at the bottom of a bottle, till we 
 find which one of us is craziest." 
 
 He sets Clarence in a leather-mahogany chair, and 
 gives him a cigar as long and fat as a railway spike ; 
 and into a goblet lined with gold he pours a drink of 
 Madeira that Clarence says was meat and drink and 
 father and mother to him, that pleasant it was, and 
 the bottle left standing so near ! And Clarence clung 
 to the bottle like saying good-by to your sweetheart, 
 till he begins to feel as though drifting away on a 
 private cloud. 
 
 "Mister," says Clarence, throwing up his feet on 
 another chair, " I don t know whether your mind is oif 
 or on, but your heart is still waving at the masthead, 
 sure !" 
 
 " Ah !" says the youngster, pointing both forefingers 
 at him. " Sh !" says he, going to the door. He looks 
 out in the hall, then out of the window ; then he comes 
 on tiptoe, and whispers in Clarence s ear. " 1 11 give 
 ye me word of honor," says he, "I m as crazy as 
 you !" 
 
 "And several times more," says Clarence. "For 
 me own mind is on as firm as the comb on a cock. 
 And me appearing in this armor if that s what ye 
 mean why, I was merely on me way to Andy Cog- 
 gin s" 
 
 " Listen !" says the tall young man. He takes a 
 piece of paper and draws a triangle and a circle. " The 
 
114 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 first symptoms of losing your mind," says he, pointing 
 to the circle, and in a loud voice as solemn as a lecture 
 "the first symptoms is thinking yourself still sane. 
 And the next step," says he, pointing to the triangle, 
 u is thinking your neighbor is crazy. For, laying all 
 reason aside," says he, tearing the paper to bits, " of 
 all authorities, living or dead, I recognize meself as 
 the greatest on earth concerning inflammation of the 
 nerves, lunacy, idiocy, and tomfoolery. And why? 
 Because to perfect me knowledge of the subject I went 
 insane meself !" 
 
 " The divil !" says Clarence, shooting up to his feet. 
 " And that s what s the matter of ye !" 
 
 " Ye 7 ve hit it in the eye," says the youngster, seem 
 ing all full of enthusiasms. " For instance, suppose 
 you was to cover both ears with your hands if your 
 hands is big enough : now, what do ye hear ? " 
 
 " I hear like under a bridge with the cars running 
 over," says Clarence. 
 
 " That ? s what you think," says the youngster ; " and 
 some of them surgeons of the mind would know no 
 better. But, in fact, t is the first sign of insanity. 
 J T is the maggots ye hear at work on your brain, and 
 chewing on the chain of your thoughts." 
 
 " Bedad, not in my case," says Clarence. " For me 
 own head is on as straight as the knob on a door. 
 The reason of me acting perhaps a trifle queer when 
 you first saw me, why" 
 
 " Between bottle companions," says the youngster, 
 as kind as a father to him, " ye need have no modesty 
 at all about your condition. Let s see ye cross one 
 knee over the other." 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 115 
 
 Clarence crossed his knees to show how easy he 
 could do it ; and when the youngster was not looking, 
 Clarence claps a hand to his ear again and hears the 
 maggots working there again, and says to himself, 
 bedad, it was queer. And the youngster hit him a 
 cut with the sharp of the hand on top of the knee-pan, 
 and Clarence s leg flew up all astonished at itself 
 beyond control ; and Clarence says to himself, by the 
 great horn spoon, he would n t let his leg behave that 
 way again. But as often as the youngster hit him on 
 the knee, up flew the leg, whether he liked it or not. 
 And Clarence sees the youngster shaking his head; 
 and that shook the peace of Clarence s soul; and 
 says he : 
 
 " What would ye make of that, doctor ? " 
 
 " It means," says the youngster, " that ye Ve lost 
 your responsibility complete below the knee. If ye 
 was to commit violence with your thumb, the eye of 
 the law would regard ye as criminal. But if ye was 
 to accomplish evil with your feet, they would do no 
 more than examine your legs for insanity. What s 
 the matter of ye ? " says he. " Is your cigar too strong 
 f er ye ? " 
 
 For Clarence had put down his goblet, and set think 
 ing as hard as the maggots would let him. He had 
 found something wrong with his eyes they would n t 
 seem to be driving in harness together ; and he forgot 
 of the wine he had drained, and he asked himself if 
 7 t was true he was leaving his wits. 
 
 " Did n t I start out all intelligent with Sudd Lan- 
 nigan/ says he, with a fall of the voice, " to get a plate 
 of beans ? " 
 
116 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " Dear me ! " says the youngster, with his face like a 
 coroner s jury, " I hate to tell ye, but you ; re getting 
 rapidly worse. 1 7 ve noticed a change since ye come 
 through the window." 
 
 " Worse, ye say and permanent?" says Clarence, 
 breaking out in the brow with cold perspiration. 
 
 " Upon your soul, as one raving maniac to another/ 
 says the youngster, " can ye say that in the last two 
 hours no one has taken exceptions to your acts ? Am 
 I the first to intimate you was crazy ? " says he, pacing 
 the floor, and stopping to deliver that at Clarence. 
 
 "What if he did?" says Clarence, all stewing in his 
 collar. " It was only me best friend, Sudd Lannigan, 
 when I was fighting the duel ; and he ? s a dom fool, 
 anyway. It ain t true, and I ain t crazy." 
 
 " It ain t true !" says the youngster, with a laugh. 
 " And you parading Newport at this hour of the night 
 dressed up like that !" 
 
 "I tell ye t was pure accident," bawls Clarence. 
 " I tell ye 7 t was nothing but absence of mind." 
 
 " Absence of mind! Absence of mind!" says the 
 youngster, from the other room, pointing at him. 
 "That ? s what it is for your mind is clean absent 
 and gone, like the meat of a nut !" He gives a sniff 
 of professional pride, and he leans up ag in something 
 that looked like a sideboard ; but t was an orchestrion 
 inside, and the youngster pulls the handle of it. " Put 
 your hands to your ears ag in," says he, " and listen if 
 the maggots is any better." 
 
 So Clarence covers his ears, and the orchestrion 
 begins to play the music of "The Turkish Patrol," aris 
 ing more and more in the distance, till ye could hear 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 117 
 
 it through your hands. Clarence starts up in his 
 chair. 
 
 " Say !" says Clarence, " where will that music be 
 at this time of night? Don t I hear a military 
 band ? " says he to the blank face of the youngster. 
 
 " I have no doubt ye think ye hear something," says 
 the mock doctor. " Each crazy man has delusions of 
 his own. I once believed I could hear the divil himself 
 preaching sermons to the damned," says he, "and 
 most entertaining. But a dishonest lunatic stole the 
 delusion from me mind with a bodkin," says he, " and 
 the next day" 
 
 "Whist! That is music," says Clarence; "real 
 music ! Don t ye hear it? It s growing louder." 
 
 " Poor man !" says the youngster. "Do ye suffer 
 badly?" 
 
 " I tell ye it is music ! Are ye deaf ? " says Clarence. 
 
 " Deaf?" says the other. " Sure, me ears is as sen 
 sitive as a chronometer I can hear the beating of 
 me own heart in the middle of a drum corps," says 
 he; "but I don t hear any military band at this 
 moment." 
 
 "Ye can t hear that growing louder and louder?" 
 says Clarence, his forehead bursting with dew. " Now 
 now, ye do hear that, doctor?" says Clarence, clutch 
 ing him by the arm. 
 
 "There, there," says the youngster, all soothing; 
 " don t let it get any louder. You must control your 
 self. Take some wine. I command ye not to let it get 
 any louder !" says the youngster, pointing his finger. 
 
 "Why not?" says Clarence, all caving in. "Why 
 not? for it is growing louder. I could swear Holy 
 
118 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 Mother," says Clarence, turning round, with his head 
 behind him, " I could take me oath t was in the house !" 
 
 "Come, now," says the youngster, embracing him 
 tight, " hold fast, and don t let it get any louder. If 
 it does," says he, " t will burst out your ear and escape 
 from ye, and the world be full of illegitimate notes. 
 Be a man, now ! " says he. But Clarence could n t 
 stop it. The Turkish Patrol was arriving in front 
 of him, and smashing the cymbals in a way to raise 
 the dead. 
 
 "Ah !" says Clarence, with his eyes starting out like 
 a horse. " Ah !" says he, with a dying shriek. Then 
 the band begun moving away again and going round 
 a corner. " Oh !" says Clarence, with a look of mild 
 surprise. 
 
 " Is it passing off ? " says the youngster, holding his 
 head. " Is it growing less f " he says. 
 
 " Yes, maybe maybe," says Clarence, sinking back. 
 " Yes, yes j I think t is passing off," says he, in a 
 moment. " But, doctor, doctor," says he, drawing a 
 snort, " by the saints, that was a narrow escape ! The 
 drum of me ear was blowed up like the belly of a moon- 
 fish, and every minute I thought 7 t would explode. 
 Dear, dear, what am I coming to, anyway?" says 
 Clarence, rolling his eyes with the realization of it. 
 " Could n t ye give me some kind of oil to rub on me 
 scalp ? " says he. 
 
 The young man sits looking all grave at him, and 
 finally shakes his head. The orchestrion had died 
 away, but the dew was still standing on Clarence s 
 brow. He reaches and gulps a half -bottle of wine by 
 the neck. 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 119 
 
 " I 11 forget me name next, I suppose," he mutters, 
 clapping his hand on top of his helmet. "I 11 meet 
 meself in the looking-glass and never bow acquain 
 tance !" A sob came bubbling out of his throat, and 
 it turned to a foolish laugh at the end of his tongue. 
 
 "Doctor," says he, "I would give the head off me 
 neck to get me brains back. How s that for an offer, 
 ye extraordinary divil!" Then he falls away sad 
 again but in a minute he bursts out with : " Doctor, 
 why is it I want to laugh ? I would laugh/ 7 says he, 
 " till I burst the shell off me back, if it was n t irrev 
 erent to me misfortune of losing me wits." 
 
 Then a terrible pink flush swept over the inside of 
 him at the sound of his silly words ; but he could n t 
 bring what reason he had to the end of his tongue. 
 "Good-by to me senses," says he to himself ; "good- 
 by, Sudd Lannigan ; and good-by the ship and the 
 crew and the whole sailing-match. And hello the 
 clink and the mad-house for evermore." 
 
 " The divil take you ! " says Clarence, turning on 
 the youngster. " I d never known I was mad, nor 
 any one else, if I had n t been fished up through your 
 window. But if it s mad I am, then mad I am and 
 I m going to have a good time !" He snatches a 
 Maori war-club from ornamenting the wall. I in 
 thinking the twinkle went out from the youngster s 
 eye ; for he tries to lay hold of Clarence to prevent 
 him from wrecking the room, and the tough little 
 man shook him off like a drop of water on a dog. 
 
 " What are ye doing ? " says the youngster, with his 
 feet clinging to the floor. Clarence was swinging the 
 war-club over his head. 
 
120 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " Doctor," says he, " do ye see that elegant crystal 
 bowl there ? " 
 
 " What !" says the youngster. " T is worth thou 
 sands of dollars !" 
 
 "Hurrah! 7 says Clarence. "I 11 cut it into ten 
 thousand dimes !" 
 
 "Wait, wait," says the youngster, all in a gasp. 
 " It s all a mistake you re not crazy. Don t smash 
 that ! It 7 s me father s pet bowl !" 
 
 "I m as crazy as ever was made," says Clarence, 
 swinging the club. " I never saw a big piece of glass 
 yet but I wanted to smash it ; I suppose it was me 
 lunacy growing inside. And I m going to smash 
 that bowl," says he ; " for they 11 take me away in the 
 luny-cart, whether I smash it or not." 
 
 "Look here; as a personal favor to me, for the 
 wine and cigars," says the youngster, throwing himself 
 on Clarence s bosom, "will ye kindly put down that 
 club till I tell ye something?" Clarence puts down 
 the club to lay hold of the goblet on the table, and 
 the youngster whisks the club out the window, down 
 the coal-hole. Then the youngster draws up his breath 
 from his boots. " It s three o clock and time to go 
 home now," says he, giving the broad hint. 
 
 " Oh, don t you live here ? " says Clarence, shaking 
 hands with him. 
 
 " Yes 5 but you don t," says the young man. " Well, 
 I m glad you enjoyed your wine and cigars," says he, 
 moving toward the door. " And I 11 tell ye now that 
 you are no more insane than I am." 
 
 " No, for I could n t be," says Clarence, sitting down 
 in a chair. " But I m terrible daft, doctor," says he, 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 121 
 
 clean puzzled not to find the club where he had put it. 
 " I think 1 11 have to smash that bowl with me hands," 
 he says, staring suspicious at the youngster. 
 
 They looks at each other a second. What Clarence 
 would do the next minute the young man was waiting 
 with terrible fear. He hits on a plan to be rid of 
 Clarence by strategy. 
 
 " I >m sorry to suggest your going now," says the 
 young man, " but in fact I feel a fit coming on. And 
 when I have me fits, then I 7 m in possession of the 
 divil and the strength of ten men ; and I might have 
 homicidal intent and malice aforethought breaking 
 out on me." 
 
 " Sure, I never watched a fit before," says Clarence, 
 
 settling back in the arm-chair and getting his humor. 
 
 " I feel it coming on," says the young man. " Ye >d 
 
 better go and leave me alone," says he, " for I m apt 
 
 to murder ye." 
 
 " What kind of a man would I be to go and leave 
 ye alone," says Clarence, " when by staying here I can 
 prevent ye committing a murder?" 
 
 "Ye thick-skin !" says the young man, grinding his 
 teeth. " 1 11 put it this way : I want ye to go, because 
 I ? m bored with your society. How >s that ? " 
 
 " Such impoliteness is the first sign of your fit, I 
 suppose," says Clarence. "But I m understanding 
 ye." Clarence was leaving the scare about the music 
 far enough behind him to begin to get back his heart. 
 But the young man was rising in rage. 
 
 " Oh, look here, now," says the youngster, " what >s 
 the matter with us two laying this nonsense aside and 
 speaking as one sane man to" 
 
122 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " How the divil can two raving lunatics speak as 
 one sane man?" says Clarence, getting riled. " Why 
 don t ye go on with your fit ? " says he. " Bedad, if I 
 was having a fit, I d have it, and not talk so much." 
 
 "Shall I ring up the police?" says the young man. 
 " Shall I have ye taken away by force, then ? Ye poor 
 fool," says he, from the bottom of his wrath, " I m no 
 lunatic." 
 
 " Ye poor lunatic," says Clarence, " I m no fool. 
 It just strikes me this : if you get swinging on the 
 chandeliers here with the strength of ten men and 
 pull down the ceiling, then the blame is on me. T is 
 better I ring up the police meself, and let em take 
 care of ye till your folks come home." 
 
 The young man unlocks the front door, and Clar 
 ence follows him to the hall. 
 
 "There s the door," says the young man, "and 
 there s the police call. Ye can use the one or the 
 other. But if ye don t go in two minutes it will be I 
 that will have the police come and carry ye down the 
 steps," says he. 
 
 Clarence looks at him in disdain, and, saying no 
 thing, goes and pulls for the police. " I shall tell em to 
 treat ye kind and harmless," says Clarence, all calm, 
 sitting in the hall chair. 
 
 "I shall tell em you -are a lunatic," says the young 
 man, planting himself sulky in the chair opposite. 
 " T will save explanations and serve you right." 
 
 Clarence sits up with all the dignity of a nigger. 
 " I shall tell em you re the same," says Clarence. 
 
 He begun thinking that, after all, t was not such a 
 bad evening, though he did feel the need again of them 
 
CLARENCE S MIND 123 
 
 beans at Andy Coggin s. And the more he considers 
 the more he says to himself t was a mistake him being 
 insane. He d been deceived awhile by this poor luna 
 tic. But no matter. He would get the credit for having 
 saved the young man from harming the elegant gim- 
 cracks on the walls ; and the least the old man of the 
 house could do, thinks Clarence, would be to give him 
 ten dollars and recognize him next day in the street. 
 
 "Bedad," says Clarence, whispering to himself, 
 " Sudd Lannigan thinks I ve been arrested for going 
 the streets in disguise. But I 11 get the police to 
 unscrew this armor off me, and then I 11 drop it some 
 where in the tall grass, and the man that owns it will 
 not take the trouble to hunt me up aboard me ship. 
 And I 11 have the laugh on Sudd Lannigan for once, 
 sure ! " 
 
 Then the two of em heard the hurry of two Burly- 
 boys on the gravel walk in the dark. The two Burly- 
 boys pounds up the steps with their hands over their 
 stars, and looks through the glass doors into the hall. 
 
 They saw on one side the young man standing and 
 pointing at Clarence O Shay, that sat still inside of his 
 antique armor-plate, as sure and smiling as the tin- 
 plate trust. Then they opens the door. 
 
 " This man is crazy," says the youngster, pointing 
 to Clarence. 
 
 Clarence gets quiet to his feet, all solemn and dig 
 nified. He clears his throat, and gives a nod to the 
 police. "I 11 explain the whole story from end to 
 end," says he. " This evening, at nine o clock, as I 
 was pursuing me way to Andy Coggin s place for 
 the purpose of taking on a plate of beans when " 
 
UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " He refuses to go," says the young man, " and I 
 want him removed from the house, please." 
 
 " taking on a plate of them beans of Andy s," says 
 Clarence, as though no one had spoke, " when me and 
 Sudd Lannigan was picked up off the street and hired 
 in to fight a duel at some millionaire s private Punch- 
 and-Judy show with nothing in me stomach. And" 
 
 " Come along," says the Burly-boys, clapping their 
 hands on Clarence s wrists. 
 
 " What, ye lunatics ? " says Clarence. 
 
 " Come along ; that s what !" says the Burly-boys. 
 
 And in the split of a wink Clarence felt himself lifted 
 as by an earthquake, and carried out of the house and 
 down the steps, gesticulating, procrastinating, and 
 expostulating from the soles of his feet to the top of 
 his voice. 
 
 The next minute Clarence was the main considera 
 tion of a small crowd of fly-by-nights that was escort 
 ing him and the police to the station. And, bedad, if 
 we at Andy Coggin s had n t heard him passing by 
 and riling the clouds with his objections, and if we 
 had n t run out and tore him in the dark from the 
 police to a boat convenient by, and pulled for the 
 anchorage of the fleet why, they d have had him up 
 in court the next day on charge of losing his mind. 
 
 But the minute I had the armor off him and throwed 
 it overboard then overboard went Clarence himself, 
 and swum for the shore. 
 
 " Where ye going?" says we. 
 
 I could hear him grinding his teeth like nails. 
 
 " I m going to Andy Coggin s," says he, " to get a 
 plate of beans." 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 
 
 HERE was one story which Lanni- 
 gan himself has never told. Once 
 upon a day he found himself in a 
 steam-launch, bowling up the bay 
 and homeward, at high tide and 
 twilight and spring, with the crew at 
 military silence and two officers in lively conversa 
 tion with a lady. Lannigan had not regarded the lady, 
 though the rating " Al !" had been whispered to him 
 at the moment she stepped aboard. But here, as he 
 leaned in his seat and dreamed with the evening, the 
 flare of a match set her profile sharp against his eyes, 
 and started up a thrill in Lannigan that kept him 
 gazing long when the soft, compelling features had 
 blurred in the gloom again. Strange, strange ! Time 
 had been too busy erecting her fortunes all these years 
 for ever a touch at her lovely face. He settled down 
 with his head in his hands, seeming to stare at the 
 keel of the boat. But he did not see it, and he did 
 not hear the beat of the screw or the rush and ripple 
 of the waters. 
 
 What he saw was the wall of a long, deep garden, 
 and, at a corner hidden by trees from a time-worn 
 house, a girl, who leaned over, muffled in a scarf, lest 
 he might discern her face in the starlight. What he 
 
 127 
 
128 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 heard, in this night of June, was her rich, old-country 
 voice, with a bit of the blessed brogue in it, and a 
 touch of the heart, he thought, and a quaver of longing. 
 
 " Then why will I never see ye again?" he pleaded. 
 
 " If I disappeared for years," she said, " I d find ye 
 still here whistling to the robins every morning. Sure, 
 ye ve stolen the secret of happiness, and that from 
 some girl, I think, such a tongue ye have." 
 
 " Then ye d better share half the secret with me," 
 he said, " or, faith, ye 11 be robbing it all." 
 
 " Now, true, if I thought I d never grow old," she 
 laughed, " I d scare ye for saying that. I d make ye 
 think I swallowed your blarney." 
 
 " What s growing old to do with being young?" he 
 said. "Why, the pleasure of growing old with you 
 would keep a man young forever." 
 
 "Ah, yes," said the girl; "for is n t a man young 
 always? But there s nothing that keeps a woman 
 young, and there s plenty that makes her old. And 
 that s how little ye know of us ; for I believe ye never 
 had a mother." 
 
 " Did n t I have a mother, though?" said Lannigan. 
 "And as handsome she was as you d be, now, if a 
 bat would steal that scarf away. And she never 
 growed old : she stayed preserved in the sweet things 
 that none could keep from telling her. 7 T was she 
 that learned me how to read the heart behind the smile, 
 Mary Travers ; and that s why I know ye like me 
 prayers, though ye do pretend ye 11 come no more to 
 the wall." 
 
 "Ye child!" said Mary Travers, drawing the scarf 
 more tightly. " Ye never even saw me face. And 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 129 
 
 if ye did, ye d pass me by ; for I m the ugliest girl 
 that ever slaved for a living. And maybe that s why 
 I m scared of to-morrow night s moon." 
 
 " Whatever marble you re made of," said Lannigan, 
 "it s the heart of burning fire inside I m knocking 
 at. What s a face, Mary Travers ? Sure, the divil 
 himself is a handsome man. Ye need have no face 
 at all, if ye like." 
 
 "Oh, with such a tongue inside your head, ye 11 
 never lack a roof over it," said Mary Travers. " Well, 
 it s good-by to ye j and when I m an old woman I 11 
 remember how pretty ye can talk to an empty face at 
 a wall." 
 
 "I ve something important to tell ye," he called. 
 But she had fled, and the stars looked down upon his 
 puzzled countenance. 
 
 When he returned, the following night, she was not 
 there, and he could not understand. Their dozen 
 trysts had yielded emotions that seemed to him too 
 inevitable and from too near the source for her now 
 to keep to a threat of absence made so lightly. He 
 gave a robin s whistle and hummed a snatch of a 
 sailors chanty as he walked the length of the three 
 inclosing walls. Then some one in the garden began 
 tapping with a trowel on a flower-pot. He stopped 
 and called, but only the cold wall gave echo to his 
 greeting. It needed the brush of his feet retreating 
 through the grass for the trowel to cease and a voice 
 to cry: 
 
 "Don t go!" 
 
 " You re there, then, Mary Travers !" he said. The 
 trowel resumed ; his words seemed to have fallen on 
 
130 UttDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 deaf ears. When the trowel paused again, as he waited 
 in doubtful silence, it was for the voice to say : 
 
 "Here, puss, puss, puss don t go !" 
 
 "So it s puss, puss, puss/ then, Miss Travers?" 
 quoth Lannigan. "Well, I wish I was a cat ye 
 could n t drive me away. Will ye never cease with 
 that trowel?" he cried, after an interval. "Did n t I 
 say I wished I was a cat ? " 
 
 " If you re addressing me, sir," said the voice, clearly 
 and frigidly, " I m not Mary Travers ; and I m not 
 concerned with what animal you d rather be. 7 
 
 "Now, what are ye giving me, with school-teachers 
 talk !" said Lannigan, taken with what appeared the 
 mischief of it. "I know your voice too well, Mary 
 Travers, for I ve learned it by heart, me friend." 
 
 " Excuse me," came the voice, crisply, " but I object 
 to being taken for a servant, and especially for Mary 
 Travers ; for I m like her neither in grammar nor any 
 other way. I m the governess in this house, and I m 
 not Mary Travers." 
 
 " Then why are ye speaking with her voice, in the 
 garden here?" said Lannigan. "Ye d object, I sup 
 pose, to looking over the wall," he said, with a twinkle 
 in his eye, " to show if yourself ain t as much like 
 Mary Travers as your voice is I " 
 
 "Most certainly I should object," said the voice. 
 "Do you think I m in the habit of flirtations with 
 casual strangers ? Go away, sir !" 
 
 The young man rubbed his brow. Sure, this rude 
 ness did not sound like Mary Travers. What were 
 these high-priced phrases and this mouthing, and 
 where was her brogue? He had to accept what he 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 131 
 
 heard, though with astonishment. It was not the 
 voice of Mary Travers ; he had deceived himself, and 
 he felt silly. Now, nevertheless, any one who had 
 looked down within the garden would have seen no 
 " governess " there, but would have seen Mary Travers 
 Mary Travers tapping with her trowel and keenly 
 listening for what would happen next. There were 
 stations more exalted than that of a governess for 
 which she believed she could conquer or cloak her 
 lack of equipment, even without the aid of a wall. 
 Already she had so schooled herself that when she had 
 talked these nights with Lannigan her brogue had 
 been as much an affectation as her stilted utterance was 
 now. She smiled. She was succeeding with the test 
 she had put for herself ; and equally what pleased her 
 was the chance she was gaining skeptically to explore 
 a man s unguarded heart. She waited while he kicked 
 the turf and muttered his chagrin. 
 
 "Excuse me, miss/ he said, to make amends, "I 
 did n t think there was two voices in the world as fine 
 as yours. Would Mary Travers be coming out to 
 night?" 
 
 " Mary Travers," came the voice, " is not employed 
 to be drooping over garden walls." 
 
 " ; T would improve the landscape if she was, miss," 
 said Lannigan in another tone. 
 
 " Why, you seem to esteem the girl," said the voice. 
 " You are evidently that sailor she s talked to so much. 
 I m sorry for you." 
 
 " I had n t found out why ye need be," said Launigan. 
 
 " With her purring ways and her Irish blarney," the 
 voice went on. " They gave her a double face when 
 
132 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 she came into the world, but they gave her no heart 
 at all. She d sell her best friend for a chance to rise 
 in society. She s not worth the odds and ends she s 
 glued together of." 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon, miss/ said Lannigan, rag 
 gedly, " but could n t you get some gentleman acquain 
 tance to come this side of the wall and say them words 
 to me about Mary Travers ? If ye d only send some 
 one, some man that ye would n t mind if his friends 
 brought him home horizontal, miss, t would help to 
 express me views about Mary Travers." 
 
 " Of course," said the voice, " you re the young man 
 that works and sings by the water, there. I d heard 
 such pleasant things of your character from my friends 
 the naval officers that I can t understand your feelings 
 for a common domestic like Mary Travers. You re 
 much too good for her." 
 
 " There ain t any man too good for her," came Lan 
 nigan. " And she has her friends, too." 
 
 " Do you know how she spends her wages 1 " said 
 the voice. "Why, on having her teeth inlaid with 
 gold, and buying rubber gloves to keep her hands from 
 showing her trade. Do you think she d look at a man 
 that could n t lift her out of running up and down 
 stairs for a living! Of course not; and that s why 
 she as much as told you to go about your business ; 
 for she thinks you ve neither a bank account nor a 
 hope to get one. Some day you 11 call me your friend 
 for telling you that." 
 
 "You can excuse me, miss," said Lannigan; "for 
 no friend of mine says anything ag in Mary Travers. 
 It s a funny kind of a lady that talks like that of a 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 133 
 
 girl that s below her in station and not here to answer. 
 Do ye think I did n t know it was n t her voice all the 
 while? Ye might as well say the sun don t shine 
 through the windows at church as say there ain t a 
 heart behind such a voice as Mary Travers s. Good 
 evening !" 
 
 He gave a look along the wall, loath to leave with 
 out some sign of Mary. There was an interval, and 
 then the silence was broken by the voice, a little more 
 softly and somewhat constrained. 
 
 " Mary Travers is such a goose," it said, " that when 
 you ve talked to her a bit, I suppose you make her 
 think she has a heart. Good night, Mr. Lannigan." 
 
 Of course, as he went home, still without a reason 
 for not having seen Mary Travers, he began to ques 
 tion if what he had so indignantly denied did not con 
 tain some element of truth about her: he had met 
 the voice and withstood it, but there was this to show 
 for the impact, just as there was something that had 
 shown in the last words of the voice. For his part, 
 the notion that Mary could look upon men with such 
 cold inquiry hurt his soul as a base intrusion of the 
 sanctuary. If the doubt lingered on against his will, 
 it was because of a dawning suspicion about himself 
 as to whether she had not some right to ask for aspi 
 rations more solid than were exhibited in his humble 
 post and his joyousiiess. The thought grew, and made 
 keener his suspense. 
 
 Mary Travers did appear at the wall on the next 
 night. She had admitted to herself that she had no 
 reasons for coming ; so she came without any. There 
 was a bright young moon, and the girl shaded her 
 
134 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 face as much as she could with her scarf, and stood 
 in the deepest gloom of the lilac-tree. 
 
 "I was out here last night/ 7 he said. "I was talk 
 ing to that governess girl." 
 
 " What did ye think of her?" said Mary Travers. 
 
 " I think poor of her/ 7 said Lannigan. 
 
 " But ye 7 d know she was a lady, and that without 
 seeing her, would n 7 t ye ? 77 said the girl. 
 
 " Oh, her grammar may be all right, 77 he said, "but 
 wearing diamonds in your teeth don t make a happy 
 home. The governess is no friend of yours." 
 
 "Why, what did she say? 77 said Mary. 
 
 " She said as much as you 7 d throw overboard your 
 best friend if 7 t would help ye to make a harbor. She 
 said as though you laid so near the ground ye could n 7 t 
 see over a dollar. I want to know what ghost of a 
 right she 7 s got to talk so, 77 said Lannigan. " It 7 s 
 made me want to ask you if, after all, it 7 s made some 
 difference with you that I don t get very much pay and 
 can 7 t see the prospect of more just ahead of me." 
 
 It would have been useful to answer no ; but she 
 wished him to feel a touch of her resentment at his 
 want of eagerness for what she thought were the 
 prizes in the world. 
 
 "Would n 7 t that be an easy question to answer? 77 
 she heard him say. " Does it make a difference, then ? " 
 
 " There 7 s no need of answering it, 77 she said at last ; 
 " for it don t make any difference to you. I mean that 
 the governess knows the man in the next house, here, 
 and knows 1 7 ve promised to marry him. She thinks 
 you ought to keep away, because I ought not to be 
 meeting ye here and him never hear of it." 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 135 
 
 Lannigan stood motionless. His silence, as lie 
 looked long and steadily up at her, touched her con 
 science and made her uncomfortable. 
 
 " One woman s as good as another, ye know/ she 
 tried to say lightly. "All women know that, and 
 most men find it out. The girl that talked to ye over 
 the wall last night, if she d shown ye her face well, 
 you would n t be the first that pretended to lose his 
 heart to her on sight. And me the poor housemaid, 
 
 I d be forgotten. Ye seem to be losing your tongue," 
 she said, in a few moments. 
 
 " No, it ain t my tongue I m losing," said Lannigan. 
 
 II You say ye ve promised to marry this man. That s 
 a bit of a serious matter. Then why have ye come 
 and talked the way ye have so many times with me, 
 and him not know it ? Don t ye love him ? " 
 
 She felt herself diminishing under his gaze, but she 
 would not sink to humility. 
 
 "And if ye don t love him," said Lannigan, "why 
 have n t ye told him ye don t ? " 
 
 " Oh, there s no one needs fuss but I 11 carry my 
 end of it," she said stiffly. "And, what s more, I m 
 not afraid but he 11 take care of me, and save me from 
 slaving when I get old." 
 
 " And so ye 11 marry him," said Lannigan j " and 
 ye can t stand there and say ye love him you that 
 have talked so free to another man under the dark ! 
 It s because ye don t love him, Mary Travers." 
 
 "He 11 push his way to the front," she retorted. 
 " He s never been afraid to ask the world for what 
 he wanted." 
 
 "Ye mean he has a bank account," said Lannigan ; 
 
13G UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 "and ye mean that me I ain t got nothing to rattle 
 but me tongue. But if that s all, why ain t it all ? 
 What need was calling ye out in the dark with a 
 covered face to ask me to tell ye what true liking was ? 
 What do ye think ye 11 come to, for committing such 
 forgery ? " 
 
 He was getting away from her, to where she could 
 not reach to punish him. She made a change in her 
 manner. 
 
 " You think I would n t keep my promise, if I made 
 it," he heard her say, leaning toward him. "But I 
 will. How do you know," she said, softly appealing, 
 "whether I m not keeping a promise and whether 
 you have n t made it hard for me to keep it harder 
 than you know ? " 
 
 "How do I know?" repeated Lannigan. "Why, 
 Miss Travers, it s nothing to me what ye keep , for 
 I m not leaving anything of mine with ye. Good 
 night, and good-by !" 
 
 She heard him whistling loudly in the distance, and 
 he had never looked back. She summoned what 
 thoughts she could to dispel the scorn he had left in 
 the air. Chief of them was her belief, which he seemed 
 to challenge and damage, that the sentimental needs 
 of a man were more constant than his constancy. 
 But how many days, she angrily said to herself, if 
 given the beauty and willingness, would Lannigan 
 stand against some other woman who appeared to fall 
 in with his dreams and never fell out with his apathy 
 in matters of advancement ? She loosened her scarf 
 and fancied herself as the governess again, glowing 
 upon him and bringing him back to her feet, if she 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 137 
 
 chose, before she had opened her lips. She went in 
 and lighted a lamp before her mirror. 
 
 He had laughed and expressively kicked an old shoe 
 from his path. He had torn a page from his catalogue, 
 and he believed that his book was the better for being 
 the lighter. But by midnight, in the silence of his 
 room, the wound was flowing freely again. The 
 memory of his mother came, suffusing him with a ten 
 derness that spread and contritely enveloped the girl 
 he had left at the wall. For him, whatever the wind, 
 it was not to be bitter and brutal, but to be gravely, 
 kindly right ; and though Mary Travers was wrong, 
 and though she thought slightly of him, it was his 
 own lack if there had not been a dignity in his spirit 
 so high and firm that none could pass without acknow 
 ledging it. He tried to raise his head proudly upon 
 this basis ; but it only invited him to more luminous 
 contemplation of himself. Return to earth, and what 
 was he, after all, in the respect of which she had flouted 
 him ? Had he ever had a higher content than to bask 
 in the sun, with a pipe in his mouth and a jest on his 
 lips ? All those phrases with which she had flattered 
 him about his joyousness and habit of song, it had 
 only been her way sweet and gentle, he was in the 
 mood to call it of suggesting how little the fire of 
 ambition was alive in him. 
 
 Well, he exclaimed, pacing the narrow room of his 
 quarters in the lighthouse station, he would make 
 something happen. Mary Travers was not married 
 yet ; and if she felt only in honor bound to this man, 
 there was hope. Let her bid Lannigan compel the 
 material world for her sake, and here was the power 
 
138 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 to do it bursting his sinews. He sat down to be calm 
 and decide where he would strike first to develop his 
 fortunes, and the pendulum swung back from fancy 
 to facts. He was a sea-dog ; young as he was, he knew 
 in his bones that nothing else could ever be made of 
 him. He had never traded a boot-lace, except at a 
 loss j and the main item of his assets was the more or 
 less worthless promissory words of blue- jacket bor 
 rowers scattered all over the seas. 
 
 Accumulating riches in a world where sick men 
 asked in the streets for bread, how it was done was 
 past his fathoming. And for lack of knowing, he, 
 with his long, hard arm and his chest of iron, was to 
 be denied the woman he loved ; he was to bend like a 
 slave and pay the tribute of his heart s desire to an 
 other man who owned a key to the soulless, inexorable 
 mystery of wealth. Here, in the waters where this 
 other man rode triumphantly and bore away the girl 
 whom Lannigan loved, Lannigan seemed to be sinking, 
 deeper and deeper, till the very pressure of the depths 
 forced him up again to his place in the scale of gravity. 
 
 Once at Bar Harbor he had jumped into the breakers 
 and brought out a little girl who might have drowned. 
 Her father had made an exceedingly generous offer 
 of reward. Lannigan had said that he would be com 
 pensated enough for his wet clothes if the gentleman 
 would take a glass of wine with him. So the wine was 
 drunk, as between gentlemen, with none of the pa 
 tronizing in their conversation. The only other tan 
 gible outcome of the affair was the gentleman s card, 
 he was a politician of eminence, which he gave, 
 accompanied by an offer of a kindly word to the Sec- 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN ISO 
 
 retary of the Navy should Lannigan ever wish it. The 
 card was still in Lannigan s pocket, after three years ; 
 for none of Lannigan s mates had prevailed upon him 
 to invoke its promise. 
 
 Now he sat with the address before him and wrote 
 three awkward letters, asserting that he considered 
 himself competent for the duties of a quartermaster 
 three letters which he tore up one after another, each 
 with a heavier heart. Adieu to his pride, he felt, in 
 his own crude fashion. Any man who was a man, he 
 told himself, would have made the dive for the girl. 
 There had been no risk ; and if there had been, for 
 sooth, should an impulse that rose from his soul to the 
 terror-struck cry of a child be hideously turned to 
 advancement and coined into lucre? But he wrote 
 the letter again : it was for Mary Travers s sake. He 
 took it darkly forth and dropped it criminally in the 
 box. He would have given much, the next moment, 
 to have it back. Once more his spirit rose bitterly 
 against Mary Travers ; she was more like frigid Fate 
 than flesh and blood in her way of letting him pass 
 from her life. Of the regret and hope and fear that 
 lay in the box with his letter he would have spoken 
 more freely to the governess than to Mary Travers. 
 
 There was a day of rain, then one that brought sun 
 shine and a telegram. Before he opened it he had 
 steadied himself for a rebuke from some vague source 
 at Washington. He was astonished to find that his 
 promotion had been arranged by the great man as if 
 with a gesture of a busy hand j and he was invited to 
 write again when he needed something more. So, 
 then, he was a quartermaster. If the fact did not 
 
140 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 restore his ancient pride, it numbed the seat of the 
 amputation. That evening he set out for the wall. 
 There was a heavy burden of obligation on his con 
 science toward the man whose daughter s life he had 
 saved ; but there was a new confidence in him, and he 
 brimmed with things to say to Mary Travers. He 
 specially planned the unimportance which he would 
 give to the news of his advancement ; she should see, 
 he said to himself with a lover s fierceness, what an 
 ignoble consideration this was beside affairs of the 
 soul. He was coming with fresh ammunition, and he 
 longed for the fray. 
 
 There was some one at the wall. She leaned over 
 expectantly in a snug cloth gown, shaded by a hat of 
 vast proportions, but illuminated at the ears and throat 
 and fingers by rhinestones. As yet she stood where 
 the moon came dimly, under the lilac-tree. 
 
 " Is that you or the governess ? " he said. " For I Ve 
 never seen either of your faces." 
 
 " I am the governess," said Mary Travers, distinctly. 
 " Did you know that Mary Travers is going to be mar 
 ried right away ? " 
 
 So it was for this that his three tragic days had been 
 preparing ! There was humor in it. He gave a laugh, 
 and picked himself up, as it were. Well, he would 
 not let himself appear ridiculous to the governess. 
 There was something he liked about her something 
 a man could grasp if he wished to forget himself. 
 
 " Yes, I had an idea of it," he said measuredly, tak 
 ing out his pipe. " T was a nice girl, Mary Travers." 
 
 " Oh, she was n t very handsome," said the governess, 
 mendaciously, " but some men liked her. You know 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 141 
 
 you made me angry because you compared her to me. 
 But I don t think quite the same about men as Mary 
 Travers does : my ideas are more like yours/ 7 she said, 
 without a blush. 
 
 " 1 7 m glad I met ye," he said. " Most girls, nowa 
 days/ he added, with the philosophy of his one expe 
 rience, " don t have any ideas about men : their ideas 
 is all about money." 
 
 "Not the right kind of a girl," said the governess. 
 " You ve been as unlucky as I was up to the time I 
 met you." She moved a little way so that she stood 
 in the moonlight j she looked up at the stars, and the 
 beams came full in her eyes, and the beauty of sky 
 and trees and stars was lost beside the beauty of her 
 face. "I mean," she said, with a gentle smile, "that 
 all the men I ever knew till I met you considered 
 that looks was what counted most in a girl." 
 
 " Ye know why ? " came the young man, inevitably. 
 "You re that extraordinary handsome yourself that 
 the men can t think of anything else." 
 
 He received a look of childish gratitude, as if he had 
 solved for her one of the mysteries of her life. 
 
 " Do you really think so 1 " she said. It seemed to 
 mark a stage in their intimacy. She sat down on the 
 wall and looked at him admiringly. "You re the 
 kind of man that looks terrible deep into things," she 
 said. " I m thinking you could keep on looking right 
 into any one s heart, if you wanted to." 
 
 He was so engrossed in her face that he hardly 
 heard her j but he nodded. She seemed to accept the 
 nod for much that he might have fittingly interjected 
 in words. She sighed, and happily smiled, and took 
 
142 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 off her hat, exhibiting her profile, with all her hair, 
 against the sky. 
 
 " Sure, you re the handsomest girl I ever saw !" 
 said Lannigan. 
 
 " You know," she said, " it might make a difference 
 to Mary Travers whether you was an officer or not; 
 but it would n t to all girls. I mean," she said, with 
 apparent difficulty, " oh, well, I guess you don t care 
 very much what I think !" 
 
 "Yes, I do," said Lannigan. " I got a wrong idea 
 about you the other night. I want to make me 
 apology." 
 
 Her head had been slowly revolving ; there was no 
 aspect of it in which she had not equal confidence. 
 
 "Do you think it looks friendly for you to stay 
 there ? " she said, turning on him radiantly. "Did n t 
 Mary Travers ever care enough to show you those 
 spikes in the wall ? " 
 
 Aye, he thought to himself as he climbed up, to 
 Mary Travers, somewhere in the house that loomed 
 beyond the trees, he was like the melted snows; and 
 here was a woman with a way as sweet as hers, and 
 with other attributes which Mary Travers did not pos 
 sess. No one in the station of a governess had ever 
 been so cordial to him : she made him forget the burn 
 ing of his heart. 
 
 "You re not bad-looking yourself," said the gov 
 erness, now that for the first time he stood within 
 touch of her. 
 
 " Do ye know," he said, sitting contentedly, " if I 
 had n t been coming here to waste Mary Travers s time, 
 I d never met you ? " 
 
 " Then you can apologize for the way you spoke to 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 143 
 
 me that evening, over the wall/ she said. "Go on 
 and speak from your heart, if you have one." 
 
 She hung over him like the ripe fruit on the bough, 
 and he held his knee a trifle diffidently in his hands. 
 
 "Well," he said, "in the first place you re the 
 handsomest girl in the world." 
 
 He was surprised by the quick change of her man 
 ner. She sat down at a distance, and looked away. 
 
 "No; I ve heard that before," she said. "That 
 does n t come in the first place with me. That is n t 
 what I wanted." 
 
 " But, sure, I >m chock-a-block with appreciation of 
 ye," he said earnestly. " When I say, solemn, l I m 
 your friend/ I could n t say more, could I ? " 
 
 In a moment, as she spoke without taking her eyes 
 from the mound that raised them above the rest of 
 the garden, there was a deep sadness and resignation 
 in her voice. 
 
 " Of course," she said, with a shrug and a smile, " if 
 you can t say more why " She seemed to choke. 
 
 " Why, what s the matter, me dear ? " said Lannigan, 
 jumping up. 
 
 She hurriedly hid her face in her hands and shook, 
 as if sobbing the sentiments she could never speak ; 
 and as it was Lannigan s nature to fight first and 
 explain afterward, so now he found that he had put 
 his arm around her. 
 
 "What s the matter?" he said vaguely. 
 
 She sat up and pushed away his arm. 
 
 "You don t want to see what s the matter, and so 
 you don t see," she said. "You re trying to let me 
 down easy ; but you can t. Nothing can." 
 
 Her utterance seemed to fail her again. She knew 
 
144 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 from his silence that now he understood ; she waited, 
 as one who was dumb from suffering. The seconds 
 passed, and she wondered what he would say. 
 
 " Ye know 1 7 m only a common sailor a kind of sea 
 horse ? " he said at length. " I don t savvy the game 
 on land, at all. I could n t take decent care of ye." 
 
 " I m independently rich," declared the governess. 
 li I m only being a governess to amuse myself." 
 
 " Ye know ye d have no more friends among the 
 officers if your husband was only a common sailor," 
 he said. " They d make ye ashamed of me." 
 
 "Oh!" she flashed. "You re not being sincere. 
 You would n t let anything stand in the way if you 
 cared. You re making pretenses ! Why can t you 
 tell me something that s true ? " 
 
 She seemed at his mercy, transfixed and helpless. 
 All the mighty love which he thought was in her heart 
 for him shone from her pleading eyes. They set 
 themselves upon him as if not to let him have his will, 
 not to let him think, but to bend him to say the three 
 words that always afterward would be her trophy of 
 their interview. In a moment she saw fit to look down 
 again. He had taken her one gloved hand, and in his 
 voice there was a truer tenderness than she had ever 
 listened to. 
 
 " The truth is," he said, " I can be a petty officer 
 to-morrow, if I want to accept. And you re the hand 
 somest girl I ever met ; and you re a lady, and no one 
 ever had the right ideas as much as you. You seem 
 to be all I ve dreamt of, and more besides j but, you 
 see, you ain t Mary Travers, and you can t be. That s 
 the trouble. Good night, and always God save ye !" 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 145 
 
 He had jumped down from the wall. She watched 
 him disappear among the trees. She was full of emo 
 tions : what they were, what she wanted, she could not 
 tell. She only knew that the night seemed suddenly 
 grown chill, and that she was uncomfortable and 
 unhappy, and that something was lacking. 
 
 His pride had been fortified by the admiration of 
 this beautiful creature. He felt the strength to make 
 a showing of dignity and indifference to Mary Travers, 
 if he met her. When he purposely passed the wall 
 again the following night it gave him satisfaction 
 dimly to see her there in her calico gown and scarf 
 and to send her a cheerful greeting and a word about 
 the weather over his shoulder. But she called him 
 back. 
 
 " I want you to come up here," she said. " I ve 
 this to tell ye," she began, when he was seated and 
 bore himself with fine neutrality : " the governess has 
 left town ; you 11 never see her again. And I m not 
 going to marry that man." 
 
 " Why not ? " said Lannigan. 
 
 " If you don t know why," she said simply, " then 
 no one does." 
 
 So he kissed the one place on her cheek that was 
 not obscured by the scarf, and he was glad of the gloom 
 of the lilac-tree. 
 
 "Sure, it s extraordinary," he said, pressing her 
 hand as if it might dissolve. " Sure, ye Ve given me 
 a scare, Mary Travers," he added, in a few moments. 
 " Me heart was drying up inside me, dear ! And don t 
 I get a look at your face ? " he said, after a while. 
 
 " Not yet," she said. " I Ve a deal else to confess 
 10 
 
146 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 to ye before I confess me face. So you re going to 
 be an officer, then ? Hurry up and have it done before 
 we-" 
 
 " Before we re married," said Lannigan. 
 
 "Yes," said Mary Travers ; " for I ve thought it all 
 over. I 11 make a big man of you yet. I know how 
 to manage people. I know how to mesmerize them. 
 How long would it take ye to be an admiral, if ye 
 did n t have a wife to push ye ahead ? " 
 
 " Sure, not till I ve gone to sea in another world," 
 said Lannigan, with a happy laugh. " Ye see, I 11 be 
 only a petty officer, and not in the line of promotion 
 not even a warrant officer." 
 
 " Then the first thing is for you to get ordered down 
 to Washington," she said. " He he s a reporter, you 
 know, and understands how those things are done. 
 He s told me everything he knows, I guess. So I 
 shall work the wires to have you put in the line of 
 promotion." 
 
 " Sure," said Lannigan, with a twinkle, " ye 11 have 
 to begin with making me a boy again. But we 11 be 
 that happy when I am ashore that ye 11 stop bother 
 ing about commissions and gold lace. When we re 
 in New York I 11 take ye out to the Park every Sun 
 day, with a glass of beer at the eating-house, and ride 
 back in the elevated." 
 
 "I was at Coney Island once," said the girl, remi- 
 niscently. " And once I was at that swell place in Fifth 
 Avenue. Tell me again, why can t you be put in com 
 mission, and get to be a captain, and all that ? " 
 
 " Because, me darling," said Lannigan, comfortably, 
 " I ain t got the education ; and I m too old to be let 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 147 
 
 into the Academy to learn it, let alone wanting the 
 pull to get appointed there. But, sure, if 1 m in com 
 mand of as fine a craft as you, I 11 ask no better billet ; 
 and if I don t keep ye smiling through life, then 1 m 
 not me mother s son." 
 
 " You 11 have to give up the navy, then," said Mary 
 Travers, firmly. " You 11 have to drop the brogue, 
 and mind your grammar, and try the newspaper busi 
 ness. He makes a fine salary : sometimes he gets fifty 
 dollars a week. He says it does n t take much brains ; 
 he says it s mostly in your feet, if you have a little 
 bluff." 
 
 " Think of me," said Lannigan, bubbling over, 
 " interviewing the President, with me hat cocked over 
 me ear ! No, ye 11 never get the sea-salt out of me, 
 Mary, not with patent medicine. But a corking good 
 petty officer I 11 make, or there 11 be fun with the gun 
 crew. Do ye want to marry me two days from now, 
 at nine o clock in the morning ? " 
 
 She was long in answering. She sat with folded 
 hands, looking at the ground. 
 
 "You re not even sure of being a petty oificer?" 
 she said, when she turned to him and he saw her eyes 
 in the depths of the scarf and guessed that they were 
 blue, like the governess s. 
 
 " I could n t swear the papers was in me pocket," 
 he said, with a twinkle, thinking of the surprise in 
 store for her j " but I think I could arrange it, if I 
 wanted." 
 
 She was very still and thoughtful 5 she pulled the 
 scarf farther over her brow. 
 
 "Will it be the next day after to-morrow, then?" 
 
148 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 he said. The moon was showing its pale warning over 
 the housetops. She turned her back to it ; and gazed 
 deeply out of the scarf at him. 
 
 " You do think a lot of me," she said, as if it had 
 been denied. " You d better come and take me away 
 to-morrow, not the day after." 
 
 " Would n t I, though, if I could !" he said. " But, 
 ye see, to-morrow I m off with the Lighthouse Board 
 on inspection." 
 
 " You d better come to-morrow," she said. 
 
 " But, ye see, it s orders, me girl," said the sailor. 
 "But I 11 have it fixed for the day after to-morrow. 
 Maybe I 11 have a surprise for ye," he added. 
 
 " You d better let the orders go," she said. " You d 
 better let everything go, and come to-morrow." 
 
 " But ye would n t have me found wanting of me 
 duty," he said gently, "on the day our lives begin. 
 I m a soldier, dear; and when it says, l Come ! sure, 
 that s what it means." 
 
 " But lie HI be back to-morrow noon," she said. " I 
 know what he 11 say. I don t want to be there to hear 
 him, with all his questions. Come to-morrow ! 
 What s duty, what s anything, if I want you !" 
 
 "Ye don t understand, dear," said Lannigan. 
 "Duty s everything twice as much for the rank as 
 for the file. Ye need n t be afraid of this man. Give 
 him my name and address, if he wants it; but face 
 his music, and let him have both ends of the truth. 
 T will be good for him and good for you. T will 
 help pass the time from now till Tuesday. Shall I 
 come at nine, and have me first look at your sweet face, 
 arid be married at noon to ye ? " 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 149 
 
 At length he thought he felt submissiveness in her 
 sigh. 
 
 " Come, if you still think I m worth it," she said. 
 She took his head in her hands ; the scarf fell away, 
 but she was too near for him to see her eyes and what 
 was glistening there. " I hope nothing bad will ever 
 happen to you/ she said softly and truly, "for there 
 never was any one so good as you 11 be to your wife." 
 
 "Sure, Mary, I m anchored in the haven of joy!" 
 he cried, seizing her hand and holding it against his 
 forehead. " No wind that blows can reach me, dear. 
 Till Tuesday, then and me mother s looking down 
 from heaven on you this night. One look at your 
 darling face now" 
 
 But it was hidden too soon in the scarf ; and with 
 a pressure of his hand she had left him, and was hur 
 rying over the pebbles of the path to where the light 
 shone at the window by the doorway. 
 
 There never had been another such Tuesday morn 
 ing in all time, he thought, when the day of duty was 
 past, and he rose to the joyous chorus of his brother 
 robins, and put himself into the modest new uniform 
 of a quartermaster. He felt religious; he doubted 
 whether he had been true enough to the faith of his 
 mother to deserve the blessing that was coming to him. 
 His friend Mike Shaughnessy had arranged it all with 
 the priest across the river ; and Danny Thimblow, and 
 Haight the boatswain, and half a dozen others who 
 were at home in one church as much as in another, 
 would be waiting there, each one the contributor of a 
 loan for the lining of Lannigan s pocket. He had 
 parted with some of the money to two "tired" men 
 
150 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 before he was fairly on his way to Mary s house. He 
 felt in love and pity with all the world. And his heart 
 swelled as he thought of the governess, looking out 
 somewhere upon this morning with feelings in such 
 melancholy contrast to his own. Speed the man who 
 was worthy to please her j and if Lannigan ever met 
 her again, he knew just what he would say to show 
 how he had forgotten the night at the wall. 
 
 He dropped a batch of letters into the box prom 
 ises to send photographs of himself and his Mary to 
 friends in distant parts of the world. Then he 
 turned down the street which ended at the old house 
 where Mary Travers served. There was a quiet gleam 
 in his eye : she would see the uniform and half guess 
 his promotion; but she would ask the question in a 
 flash, and there was something exquisite in that he 
 would now see her face for the first time, and see it 
 smiling with pleasure at his having achieved what she 
 desired most of all things. He discovered that in his 
 dreams she had come to have all the beauty of the 
 governess j and he suddenly warned himself that he 
 must not expect so much. She would not be so hand 
 some as the governess, in one way, but she would be 
 in another ; for her heart and soul would shine in her 
 face to him. 
 
 It was a keen moment, almost too keen, when he 
 rang the bell and looked through the long panes of 
 glass beside the door j and it was rather a relief to see, 
 not a young woman coming, but an old lady. She 
 peered seriously at him for some moments through 
 the glass before she turned the latch. This, then, had 
 been made a day of privilege for Mary, and she would 
 
THE PROVING OP LANNIGAN 151 
 
 be prinking up-stairs. The old lady stood regarding 
 him with solemn questioning. 
 
 " Will you tell Mary Travers there s a naval officer 
 to see her, ma am ? " said Lannigan, in a voice he knew 
 would reach the upper stories. 
 
 "Will you come in?" said the old lady, after a 
 moment s pause. She led the way to the drawing- 
 room. Her manner left him in doubt as to whether 
 she was inconvenienced by the loss of Mary Travers 
 or generously solicitous for her, and about to cross- 
 examine him concerning his history and character. 
 "Is your name Lannigan?" she asked, with her eyes 
 fixed on him, yet hardly at ease. 
 
 "It is, ma am," he said, with his broad smile. 
 " Ye 11 agree I m the most fortunate man in the world 
 to-day." 
 
 " If I understand what has happened, I ivill agree," 
 said the old lady, with some force. " Had you known 
 Mary Travers long ? " 
 
 " I ve known Mary Travers well, ma am," said Lan 
 nigan. "And that s often a good deal better than 
 long." 
 
 There was something the old lady was trying to read 
 in his face and could not. In a moment she broke 
 out painfully : 
 
 " Then, if you ve known her so well, can you explain 
 to me what she s done ? " 
 
 " I think I see, ma am/ said Lannigan, with quick 
 sympathy. "Mary has n t talked enough." He 
 looked to the door. Doubtless the girl was listening 
 at the head of the stairs, but he w r ould say what he 
 thought. "Mary s all right, ye know, at the heart; 
 
1T>2 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 but she don t always understand that she ought to 
 speak out a little straighter. She s gone the way 
 her heart pointed that s all; I know that s true," 
 he said, with proud dignity. " And no matter who it 
 hurts, ye would n t ask any girl to do different, would 
 ye, ma am ? " 
 
 The old lady could not frown through the mystery 
 that confronted her in his face. She looked away and 
 shook her head. 
 
 " If you tell me that, I ought to" believe it," she said, 
 pressing her thin lips. " But I don t believe it," she 
 followed, with conviction. Her eyes filled. " I took 
 Mary Travers when she was a little girl," she said. 
 " Considering what I ; ve been to her, she might have 
 treated me differently she might have told me about 
 this." 
 
 Lannigan nodded gravely. Mary had been wrong 
 Mary should have been more straightforward, and it 
 was his duty to demand that she should be his duty 
 as the one who loved her most. 
 
 " I understand, ma am," he said. " Now, ye see I ve 
 arranged to take the train in fifteen minutes from now. 
 Let s call Mary down here. I 11 tell her she s got to 
 make a clean breast of it to you, from beginning to 
 end. You ve been her best friend, ma am and she 
 ought never to forget that." 
 
 He rose and looked suggestively toward the door. 
 The old lady had followed him with strained attention, 
 still baffled. Then she spoke. 
 
 " I did n t tell you," she said. " They did n t come 
 back here." 
 
 He looked, startled, into her dim, set eyes. 
 
THE PROVING OF LANNIGAN 153 
 
 "They did n t come back here?" he said. He 
 glanced around the room. The old lady stared at him 
 still painfully, still incomprehensively, but without 
 speaking. The house was silent and empty. 
 
 "They did n t come back here?" he heard himself 
 repeating. He stared back at her; the pictures 011 
 the wall seemed to whirl about the center where, half 
 frightened and half stupid, she sat motionless. 
 
 " They have n t even left an address," she said. 
 
 " Oh !" he said colorlessly. 
 
 "She married him yesterday," said the old lady. 
 " She said it was to keep her promise. I know she 
 never cared for him. It s her ambition," said the old 
 lady, choking. " She has n t been fair to him or me, 
 or to" 
 
 She looked at Lannigan inquiringly. 
 
 "STAND by, there !* growled the launch-captain. 
 Lannigan brought the nose of the launch to the land 
 ing with his boat-hook. The captain handed the beau 
 tiful one ashore. She smiled and passed under the 
 electric light, in her silks and snowy gloves, carrying 
 a bunch of lilacs. For an instant her eyes met Lan- 
 nigan s. If they remembered him, if they recognized 
 him, there was not a quiver of a muscle about her 
 mouth. 
 
 "And that was the governess," said Lannigan to 
 himself. "Aye, handsome she was; and the smell of 
 them lilacs ! I wonder if she knows what become of 
 Mary Travers poor Mary dear, that married, the other 
 man because she d promised him !" 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 
 
 CAN see meself a-stalking round the 
 bend, with me face the color of lead 
 and me fists like iron balls, praying 
 sulphur flames for some strong man 
 to beat the Satan out of me. But 
 they stood at the door of the church 
 and they smiled in their cotton gloves, each with his 
 boots a-dazzle and a posy in his coat. And they saw 
 me coming down the slope with the world blowed clear 
 to smithereens and the set of me jaw like death j but 
 their hides was thick as crocodiles. And Finny Sud- 
 bury he blurted out with : 
 " Where >s the bride?" 
 
 " Where is the bride ? " says Hennessy. " Have ye 
 changed your mind and the parson asleep on his book 
 inside and the violets lost their smell ? Where is the 
 bride ? 
 
 " Bride ! There 11 be no bride," says I, with a jerk 
 at the swinging door. " There 11 be no bride/ says 
 I, to the lights a-streaming on the pews. " Ye blither 
 ing idiots," says I, defending them from the church 
 like the divil himself, " go back to your ships, and 
 never come ashore where women are." 
 
 "Why," says the Portegee, with his grin, "she s 
 give him the mitten!" And he winked to the rest; 
 
 157 
 
158 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 but t was me they saw, and they closed him round and 
 hustled him quick away. " We ain t got nothing more 
 to say/ 7 says the nigger Jones; "and we re going 
 right back to the ship/ he says, throwing his posy 
 down in the dust. They opened apart for me to pass 
 the church and the grass a white-green streak 
 a-swirling round me. I tried to speak a decent word ; 
 but me lungs was filled to bursting. The parson put 
 his head to the crack of the door, and I shook me fist 
 at his nose ; and what he heard me say was : " Damn 
 the female kind !" that young I was. 
 
 I cut a wake through the sprouting fields. The 
 farmers wives bawled out to me ; their children run 
 as though they d seen the bogy-man. But I did n t 
 know where I was bound, nor I did n t care. Straight 
 before the wind I stalked, through woods and swamps 
 till the sun swung round to afternoon. And every 
 hour my grief and rage went double with thinking. 
 Till I stood twixt the wind and the sea, and I had to 
 stop ; but I would not turn ; and I give a groan like 
 a passing soul for something horrible, out of sea or 
 land, that I could prove meself a man ag in, though 
 it made an end of me. But there was nothing. Only 
 a big and brawny man was all I saw, sitting on a rock 
 and staring over the surf. His face was hard and set 
 as mine, and a minute I stood in front of him and 
 blocked his view. But he would not speak nor look 
 at me. I give a laugh and paced the sand, thinking 
 of Mary Travers, always of Mary Travers. But the 
 sea, I said, should never mock and stop me as the 
 woman had. For here sails a fisherman hugging the 
 lee of the bluff. 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 159 
 
 " That wash- tub you re floating in/ 7 says I, " what 
 buys it ? " 
 
 " You re joking," says he, " for this sloop is cheap 
 at all the money you ve got." 
 
 " It ain t worth the breeze to blow it to the bone- 
 yard/ 7 says I j " but here s the lining of me pockets." 
 
 He got ashore and grabbed my money and made 
 for the bank above the strand. " Ye d best keep out 
 of a gale with her/ 7 says he, with his thumb at the 
 white-caps. "She needs a bit of calking," he says, 
 with a grin, moving away, " and maybe some planking 
 here and there. She won t stand up ag in 7 this gale 
 with that rotten pole, ye know," he says, edging his 
 way to safety. I stood up in her leaky bottom and 
 hurled her scrap of an anchor at his head if it hit 
 him I never knowed. " For it 7 s Nick for a pilot and 
 hell for a port," I sung in me hollow heart, " and never 
 a whine from me !" I would keep on before the wind, 
 says I to meself split planks and splintered stick the 
 merrier till I found my medicine. And good-by to 
 the land where Mary Travers trod, forever if need be. 
 I jabbed an oar in the sand. Something held me from 
 floating off. 7 T was that brawny man that had sat on 
 the rock and stared at the sea. 
 
 " Say, friend," says he. 
 
 " Holy Mother of God !" says I, " have you waked 
 up to tell me what I 11 do? Shall I get out in the 
 sand with you, or in the water, or underneath oh, 
 speak the word !" says I. 
 
 He wa& looking mild and firm apast me shoulder; 
 and athwart his back I see a little harp was slung. 
 
 " What proof would we make with our fists ? " says 
 
100 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 he. "If you want to know who s afraid of death, 
 take me in your boat. I Ve heard it in your voice, 
 you know/ says he. " You re going afloat in a sink 
 ing craft, and you don t care what nor where. For 
 pity s sake take me along ; for my port is the same as 
 yours." 
 
 "What, ship with a poet and his harp?" says I. 
 " Why, I d throw ye into the sea for one mistake in 
 your grammar. Let go my rail !" 
 
 " I can t," says he, with his leg aboard. " There s 
 better room for two than one; and I will !" 
 
 I swore by the cloven toe, and I laid me hands in 
 the pipe of his wind, till we found ourselves cross- 
 clasped, me in my slippery bilge and him in the sand 
 and water. And we neither could speak till by com 
 mon consent. 
 
 " You re afraid to sail in your leaky boat," says he, 
 " and you don t want me to know it." 
 
 " I am ? " says I. " There s a rock out there behind 
 the sky ; and there s where I 11 be to-night if this 
 colander holds together. And there I 11 stay till the 
 powers give answer to me troubles. I m thinking 
 you d starve before the answer come." 
 
 " Nothing worse than starving ? " says he. " You 11 
 leave me on that rock alone, if I wait for an answer to 
 what troubles me. Oh, let me in !" says he. 
 
 " This craft is a rotten coffin," says I. " T will split 
 away in the gale to kingdom come, and that 11 be 
 your answer." 
 
 " What, nothing worse than a drifting corpse ? " says 
 he. " Take me to steer and I 11 show the fear of God 
 to you." 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 161 
 
 "Lay for ard, then," says I. "I m skipper here; 
 and you 11 learn a new tune to your harp twixt now 
 and ye touch dry land again." 
 
 " So bless your soul !" says he. He crouched ahold 
 of the mast and set his eyes to the sea. 
 
 The gale mowed down the grass on the bluff and 
 drove the spray athwart the swell and carried me and 
 my leaky craft before it. " ; T is the wind of Mary 
 Travers s wish," says I, " and it says : t Away with you, 
 Sudd Lannigan and never come back! " But I 
 looked no more behind. We cut a streak in the roll 
 ing surge, and the water bubbled through the seams 
 and rose above my heels. But all I saw was a tree 
 and a moon and the shape of Mary Travers in the 
 gloom. I felt me arm around her waist and the touch 
 of her hair across my cheek; and my love was hate 
 and my hate was love, till I wanted to cry aloud : 
 " How could ye, Mary Travers !" Aye, she was sailing 
 a leakier craft than mine : for she did n t love him, 
 and I knowed it, as I know it to this day. 
 
 The land growed gray at north and south ; the sky 
 closed down like the lid of a boiling pot and the water 
 rose above the floor ; but I made no move to bail. 
 Away in the tossing spray I saw the ledge where I was 
 bound, not five points off the wind or my mast would 
 have snapped with laying for it. I remembered I had 
 a passenger : he knelt with his little harp across his 
 back, and never a stir nor a word. 
 
 " I m swinging my boom," says I. 
 
 " I hear," says he. 
 
 " Then maybe ye 11 learn to see," I snarled when 
 the boom come round and tapped his head. 
 
 11 
 
162 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " Maybe in the world to come," says he, still looking 
 before him. 
 
 " Are ye blind?" I roared. 
 
 "Yes, this many a month," says he; "as blind as 
 two blue stones." 
 
 " Oh, ye found your way to my gun le quick enough," 
 says I. 
 
 " By sense of sound," says he. " If the sun turned 
 square 1 7 d never know." 
 
 "Then praise your luck," says I; "for it makes ye 
 safe from seeing the female kind. And here you groan 
 of being blind !" 
 
 " Did I groan for being blind ? " says he. " But no 
 woman could do me harm if I had my eyes." 
 
 "Who never boasted the same?" says I. "But 
 they 11 blow an honest man to the shape they please, 
 like a bubble of glass ; and let him cool in the turn of 
 a night and drop to smithereens. For there never 
 was a woman and a conscience sewed together," says 
 I that young I was. He turned his face away again, 
 and give a sigh. 
 
 " T is only that with you, then !" he says. 
 
 The man had no soul to him, I mutters : he was 
 hungered a bit, and tired of twanging his harp for 
 bread. And me, with my holy thoughts of Mary Tra- 
 vers why, he laid that close to the ground he could n t 
 understand. He felt the smooth water under the Ice 
 of the reef, and the gulls went screaming off and left 
 us all alone twixt sky and water. "It s the rock," 
 he says, with a touch of a smile. 
 
 " Yes," says I ; " and a gale of prayers won t blow 
 ye back ashore in this old scow. Ye 11 think twice, 
 maybe, before ye stow away in a sieve again." 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 163 
 
 " Have you done with her ? Are you going to take 
 to the rock?" says he. "Then give her to me 5 give 
 me the sheets and point her away to the sky-line." 
 
 " I in holding her nose," says I. " Now pick your 
 way to the top of the reef." 
 
 "No; let me stay," he says. "You ve only got a 
 trifle of mulligrubs ; but I belong to the devil s dump 
 ing-ground, and my soul is overdue. You must !" he 
 says, ahold of me. 
 
 " I must ? " says I, all mad with the feel of anything 
 that balked me. He tried to push me back, and I 
 fetched his head with a cruel jar ag in the rail, and he 
 rose all meek and trembling, the blood a-streaming 
 down his face a bigger, broader man than me made 
 like a slave because he could n t see how I had come 
 at him. I bit me lips with shame of meself when I 
 saw him. He picked his way across the seaweed ; he 
 slipped and fell on the jagged rocks and made more 
 rags in his clothes. But still he followed me, with 
 his hands all raw from barnacles. Had Mary Travers 
 sensed what a brute I could be ? And that was why 
 she d cut away from me and me deserving it? 
 
 " Sit down," says I, all harsh with hate of meself, 
 " and don t you claim to know what misery is when 
 you sail with me that s all. Can t ye wipe the blood 
 from your face ? " says I, between me teeth. He makes 
 no sound. He only untied the bag from his back and 
 set his harp all naked in the wind. The gold of it 
 doubled the gloom about us. He wiped his face with 
 the bag, all patiently; and the wind went moaning 
 through the strings of the harp, to a tune of evil fate. 
 I felt like howling like a dog ; and what did I do but 
 burst in tears like a baby. 
 
164 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 He heard me sniffling, try as I might, " Ton re 
 young," he says, by and by. "I suppose you meant 
 well enough. You are not a father yet ? " he says, in 
 a bit. "No son and no woman tied to your neck 
 to grind your heart against the stones !" 
 
 " I m not worth it," says I. 
 
 "And your conscience is clear of crime?" he says, 
 all puzzling. 
 
 " I never did anything worse than strike a blind 
 man," says I, like a girl. 
 
 He was still awhile j then he give a laugh. " And 
 you call that misery !" says he. Some kind of a day 
 light ghost seemed to take it up on the harp and play 
 it over and over again, to the moan of the whistling 
 buoy that was warning everything away from us. I 
 was learning then how far it is from a woman s kiss 
 to a grim, gray rock in the sea. 
 
 " Bag that harp and tell me your yarn !" says I. " I 
 ain t the ruffian you ve pictured in your mind. My 
 heart is broke, that s all, me friend ; and what s your 
 yarn ? " 
 
 "About me?" says the blind man. His two dead 
 eyes stared over the blank of waters ; but soon a weary 
 smile come over his mouth. 
 
 "You 11 have me talking of little Davy my boy," 
 he says, half wistful j " and then I won t know how to 
 stop. For I 11 think he s here where I can touch my 
 hand to his little face, and I 11 be a fool. Then I 11 
 wake up and remember what s happened that s what 
 you 11 bring me to." But he did n t stop. "It is 
 twenty-four hours since I spoke his name to a soul," he 
 says. " You 11 get me talking !" he warns, with a smile. 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 165 
 
 " Begin with the woman," says I ; " for that s where 
 the trouble begins." 
 
 " You re young/ 7 says he, all grave 5 " and you think 
 you can carry the world tied up in a phrase. You re 
 as young as I was five years ago. And maybe you 
 can sing a song or crack a joke or give the general 
 flavor to a rout as well as I could, and borrow from 
 men and steal from girls. Can you see what kind of 
 a boy I was ? One day I got a call from the richest 
 man in the town. 
 
 " l What business have you pursuing my daughter ? ? 
 says he. She s promised to a man that can take care 
 of her/ says he ; and I 11 not give her up to a variety 
 show like you, with neither profession nor money/ 
 
 " 1 1 need no sympathy/ says I, i for I ve settled 
 down. I m going to be a portrait-painter, and your 
 daughter is going to be a portrait-painter s wife. 
 
 " l Listen to this/ says he, all scarlet : l my daughter 
 may be your wife ; but your wife will never be my 
 daughter ! 
 
 " That s how Laura and I come down from flowers 
 and dances to live in the half of a New York flat- 
 two rooms and a kerosene stove, and lift yourself up 
 stairs. Maybe you can find a moral in that j but I 
 can t. We were living on our pride," says the blind 
 man j " and we had a baby boy, and I painted and 
 painted every day as long as the light would last, 
 and longer until I d begun to learn how little I 
 knew," says he ; " and that was encouragement enough, 
 if you have the spark of the artist in your soul. Was 
 there any rhyme or reason in my falling sick, with 
 seven kinds of ills, from drinking bad water ? It was 
 
166 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 six months after that I sat up in bed one day and tried 
 to sing with a broken voice to little Davy. i Let s 
 have some light/ says I to the doctor. i There s a pic 
 ture of purgatory I saw in my dreams. 1 11 paint it 
 and be famous. 
 
 Blue glasses first/ says the doctor, i and six 
 months rest for those eyes. And six months rest for 
 your wife, here, too j and entire freedom from care 
 for both of you. 
 
 " Another week and I was feeling my way along the 
 street happy, though the world was still so dim that 
 it sometimes give my heart a jump. But I d had a 
 couple of letters from ancient friends that stopped me 
 from ever asking a loan again j and now it was a ques 
 tion of food and rent for the months to come, and I 
 was out for a job that would n t hurt my eyes. 
 
 " l What can you do ? says the first man I asked. 
 
 " t Why, anything a gentleman can do/ says I. He 
 looked at me over his glasses. 
 
 " 1 1 don t believe you 11 find anything in New York 
 a gentleman can do/ says he. < Good morning. I 
 did n t fetch home any smiles for Laura that night. 
 Three days later I brought myself to send my card to 
 a man that had known my father ; and when he asked 
 what I could do, I said : t Why, anything. He went 
 down the list of the trades he employed ; but what did 
 I know of any trade ? 
 
 " 1 1 don t see anything you can do/ says he, t but 
 sweeping out an office. 
 
 " < Then give me a broom, says I, with my heart 
 shriveled down to a marble. 
 
 " l Clean the spare typewriter/ says he ; it s a reg- 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 167 
 
 ular part of the job/ Then I sat for an hour and 
 fumbled over the dirty types with a brush. l Can t 
 you see any better than that ? says he, stopping in a 
 hurry. Those types are not clean/ says he. Well, 
 maybe it s my eyes/ says I ; i but they 11 be better 
 soon/ He gave me a look that did n t raise my spirits. 
 1 1 d like to hold this job, sir/ says I, thinking of my 
 baby at home j l at least, till I can get a better one/ 
 says I. 
 
 " l Come back when you can see to do the work/ says 
 he. Good morning/ 
 
 " I did n t keep on hunting ; I went home in the 
 middle of the afternoon. I found my wife crying over 
 a letter. Her father was dead, and she d never laid 
 eyes on him since our marriage, nor heard from, her 
 telegram to him when her baby was born. 
 
 " l Never mind/ I said ; I ve had some luck. I Ve 
 got a job to bide the time with as soon as my eyes 
 are a little better/ 
 
 " l What is it? she said, all listless. 
 
 " I did n t like to tell her the truth. It s with the 
 typewriter/ I said. 
 
 " You don t know typewriting/ said Laura. 
 
 " I 11 learn it fast enough/ says I, l when my eyes 
 come back/ i How much will you get ? says she. I 
 don t know/ says I. i I did n t think to ask/ 
 
 " No ! You did n t think to ask ! she cries, astound 
 ing me. Was that the way my father made a fortune, 
 selling his labor before he knew what he d get for it V 
 
 " I felt my heart cut like a whip j there was that in 
 Laura s voice I had never heard before ; but I would n t 
 show the hurt she d made. Never mind, dear/ I 
 
1G8 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 said. i When I get my eyes again I 11 make the world 
 pay double for setting us back like this. I m getting 
 stronger every day. 
 
 " I took up my baby and loved it and laughed with 
 it till my heart growed warm again, though Laura 
 would n t laugh at its tricks. The next morning I 
 cut a page out of the newspaper one I found, for we 
 did n t waste our pennies. I pinned it on the wall 
 and measured off ten paces, and took memorandum 
 of how I could read the big letters of the advertise 
 ments, so as to have a gage on my eyes. That day 
 I did n t search for any better job to take the place 
 of the one that was waiting me ; for I thought I d 
 keep out of the glare of the sun on the snow. I only 
 bided the time till another twenty-four hours, to see 
 if I could read at eleven paces what I had made out 
 at ten. But I could n t j I was n t so sure at ten paces 
 as I d been the morning before. And I sat all day 
 like a bird in its cage, without a word. 
 
 ui Are you giving up looking for a position ? said 
 Laura, then, in that new voice of hers. 
 
 " l No, dear/ I said ; 1 1 m only resting my eyes from 
 the snow so I can take that chance that s offered me. 
 
 " The next morning I stumbled off my ten paces and 
 tried the newspaper again. Then I knew what was 
 coming to me. I was going blind. 
 
 " She was there in the room she had no other place 
 to go ; and so I could n t open my lips. The baby was 
 crying because she d forgotten its food. I was going 
 blind ; and what was I going to do ? What did blind 
 men do ? I said to myself. Some of em begged ; some 
 of em played bad music in the streets j and some of 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 169 
 
 em pitched themselves into the river, I guessed. The 
 heat in my head made the room so steamy I could n t 
 see the look on her face. I rushed to the window and 
 threw it open ; for the air seemed gone with the light. 
 1 The baby ! says she. l Do you want to kill him with 
 the cold, and me, too and get rid of your burden? 
 Or are you crazy ? 
 
 " Not yet/ says I, shutting down the window. 
 1 Not yet/ says I. I was only thinking. 
 
 " Will thinking give your baby the food he needs, 
 and the clothes ? she said. 
 
 " t Maybe it will, dear. Have patience, dear, says I. 
 
 " Then I went out in the snow and tried to plan 
 what I was going to do. By and by I come back : I 
 knew my only course. I took up my harp and put 
 my rusty fingers on the strings and tried to kill the 
 gloom with something gay. Neither of us said a 
 word ; for she thought I was idling, and I found I ; d 
 lost me grip of the thing, for I d never played it 
 except for a joke. I must learn again, right away, I 
 said to myself : I must practise and practise. The 
 baby went to sleep. All the afternoon Laura lay in 
 a chair, and I pulled at the strings with ever the same, 
 same tune, trying to perfect myself. By and by she 
 cried out like one in pain. t Can t you can t you stop 
 that noise? she said. 
 
 " i Yes, dear/ says I. 1 1 was only trying to amuse 
 myself. I m waiting for my eyes to get well. 
 
 " The next day and the next I tried to read that- 
 paper on the wall ; I had to go a pace nearer my eyes 
 was giving away fast. But I could n t tell Laura yet 
 I went off to the public hospital. The man pawed me 
 
170 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 over and said it all depended on my nerves; said I 
 must rest, and stay in a dark room and not to worry, 
 he said. I went home and played hard on the harp. 
 Laura come in with the baby and found me there, 
 always working at my little finger. 
 
 " l Are you always going to amuse yourself on that 
 harp ? she said. Nothing but play, when you ought 
 to be hunting for work ! Where shall we find our 
 supper to-morrow ? she said, in a way I never thought 
 to hear from her. 
 
 11 Laura/ says I, God knows where we 11 get it; 
 for I m going blind. And better I should go blind 
 than I see that look on your face again/ I sat down 
 and covered my head in my arms. I thought she 
 could n t stand hearing that I was blind I thought 
 in a minute she d come and lay her fingers on my 
 brow. I waited, and the minutes went past, and I 
 could n t hear her stir. By and by some fingers did 
 come in my hair ; but they were n t Laura s : they were 
 little Davy s fingers ; and he did n t say a word, but 
 gave me his baby love, all warm and fresh. I turned 
 my back to my wife ; she sat with her chin in her hand. 
 An hour went by ; I kissed my child and took the little 
 harp and started for the door. 
 
 " l Good heavens ! s&ys she, all hoarse, have we come 
 down to that? Are you going on the street to play 
 that harp for money ? I did n t dare to answer square 
 to the scorn and fear and misery in her voice. I could 
 hear her breathing across the room. 
 
 " 1 1 think I know where I can give some lessons on 
 the harp, dear, says I. 1 1 ? m going to see. 
 
 " Then I went out in the cold. I said to myself it 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 171 
 
 was time I grew a beard, so that no one would know 
 me. And I studied the landmarks between my door 
 and the elevated, against the time when I d have to 
 sail in the dark. I rode to the jumping-off place in 
 Brooklyn, and there I put my harp down in the snow 
 in front of a saloon and played my tune. A man 
 rolled out and gave me a quarter and wanted another 
 tune j but I did n t know it. He wanted the tunes of 
 the street. I moved to another place, and played my 
 tune three times again j and a woman gave me a nickel, 
 and a child offered me ten cents, but I could n t take 
 that. It was late in the evening when I got back ; and 
 
 I had played that tune till it made me sick to hear it. 
 When I had taken out my fare there was thirty cents 
 left. I stumbled into the room in the dark. In a 
 minute I laid my hand on Laura s shoulder, there in 
 the chair, where I had left her. 
 
 " I took down that paper from the wall/ she said. 
 
 I 1 found a notice of father s will. There s nothing 
 for us. I don t understand ; there seems to be nothing 
 left at all. 
 
 " Maybe he took his money with him, says I. 
 1 But does n t that tie us closer together ? You ve lost 
 your fortune and I ve lost my eyes. And I thought 
 you d be thinking a little of that while I was gone. 
 To me it s a bit of a shock, you know. And a 
 touch and a word would save me from going mad, 
 perhaps. 
 
 " l Oh, we 11 both go mad ; there s nothing to save 
 us, she said. 1 1 told you so before we were married. 
 You should have passed me by, and I should have lis 
 tened to my father and my aunt. Now I have to read 
 
172 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 such news as this, in the very paper you pinned on 
 the wall. 
 
 " I turned away. I wish I could read it ! was all 
 I said. I paced up and down the room, weak and hun 
 gry. By and by she boiled an egg and made me eat 
 it ; but there was no more ease between us. She let 
 the baby cry for water while she cleared the things. 
 1 Davy/ says I, your mother says you should never 
 have been born. I flung myself on the bed beside him. 
 He gave a sigh and put his arms around my neck and 
 went to sleep softer and sweeter, my God, than any 
 thing that ever trusted in man ! That was the night 
 that Davy and I got to know each other ; that was the 
 first bit of light that heaven let me have in all those 
 days. I tried to keep awake for the joy of it ; but by 
 and by I went to sleep, and we did n t wake till day 
 light. 
 
 " I said I was going to give another lesson in Brook 
 lyn. I left two nickels on the table and took three in 
 my pocket ; and that was my capital when that morning 
 I begun to learn the business of playing music in the 
 streets to meet the taste of the people. There s many 
 a trick in such a trade, and slowly I learned them ; and 
 in a while I was making food and rent. But what I 
 brought home would n t get clothes, nor look out for 
 accidents, nor tide bad weather. That s why we had 
 to part with a lot of our things and still went poorer 
 and poorer. But Laura seemed to settle to it a bit, I 
 thought. I think she was glad to see me when I came 
 home at night. She d ask once in a while if there was 
 no danger of my being run over in the street, or some 
 thing about the people I gave lessons to. And I made 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 173 
 
 a whole world of my own invention, so as to keep up 
 the lie that I did give lessons and spent my time in the 
 houses of people of our own kind. My joy was to get 
 home and find little Davy. I was so blind now that I 
 always whistled whenever I came into the room, for 
 fear I d run over him. And by and by he learned to 
 call back, Toot ! to me ; and that was the first thing 
 we would do when I came home tired the one thing 
 that saved the wreck of my heart in the summer and 
 winter that came and went. He got so big and clever 
 that he would steal up and hang around my neck 
 whenever he saw me looking glum ; and then I would 
 play the harp to him real music I would try to play 
 to him j and in the spring he began to pull at the strings 
 himself, and would play me a tune on one string a 
 funny little tune of his own that was always the same. 
 Then I would put chords and variations to it, and 
 Davy would laugh with delight. Till he used to give 
 me more tunes, one or two strings in them and these 
 I would have on my mind all day, thinking how I 
 would set them perhaps in a lullaby and play little 
 Davy to sleep. Heavens ! there were hours when I was 
 happy for I could n t see how ragged Laura was, nor 
 how thin and miserable ; and little Davy bad and 
 lusty and mischievous he was he was the anchor for 
 me. I said he was going to be a genius and play some 
 day for kings and queens. 
 
 "It made me work nearer and nearer our part of town, 
 so that I could get home quicker to Davy. My beard 
 had changed my face so that none of my friends would 
 know me. And I knew that Laura would n t be apt 
 to bring her child to the Bowery. One wet day in the 
 
174 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 spring I was playing inside a Third Avenue saloon. 
 It was a paying place. They won t let you play in every 
 saloon and they would n t always let me there. One 
 thing and the next had brought me nearer to losing 
 my grip that week than for many a month ; and I d 
 gone pretty light on my food so as to get some things 
 for Davy. I was playing my tunes and trying to live 
 down to the talk of the loafers at the bar. The door 
 was open. One of the fellows said to me : Who s 
 your lady friend? My lady friend? says I. I 
 don t have such/ Then there was a hush in the place ; 
 and when there s a hush I always know there s some 
 thing going to happen to me. A woman came and 
 laid her hand on my shoulder. i Come home/ says 
 Laura ; < for Davy s sake, come home ! There was an 
 awful shudder in her voice ; but she did n t say what 
 was the matter. I hurried out after her, as fast as I 
 could feel my way with my stick. Was Davy sick? 
 Had he been hurt had she let him get hurt ? I said to 
 myself. I m thinking I knocked a few other people s 
 children over on the way home ; for my ears was deaf 
 with the rush of my blood. 
 
 " How long since it s come to this ? she said, 
 when I opened the door. 
 
 " Davy ! What s the matter ? I said. He came 
 and gave me a thump in the nose and wriggled in my 
 hands as sound as an eel. i He s all right/ I said. 
 
 " l You; said my wife. l You were playing like a 
 beggar in that horrible saloon. People said you were 
 low/ she said, with her voice as hard as if she was 
 dressed in furs and I a criminal. People said you 
 would sink rather than rise/ she said. * You have the 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 175 
 
 vulgar streak they said you had, or you d sooner 
 starve ! 
 
 " l Then you ve brought me home to tell me I must 
 starve/ said I. <I ve been doing this for months. 
 What else can I do ? 
 
 "She did n t answer she could n t answer; she 
 only moaned. I can t stand it! she cried, after a 
 while. 
 
 " Then I lost my balance. You Ve got to stand it, 
 unless you want me to jump in the bay/ I said. 
 Would n t I do it quick enough if it was n t for Davy ! 
 Do you think it s your love and devotion that keep 
 my heart to the grindstone ? You re a coward/ I said. 
 You may have come of better blood than mine, but 
 what have you got to show for it ? Why, your father 
 was rich in money ; but his heart was poorer than a 
 pauper s, and so is yours ! That s the kind of talk 
 we d come to. 
 
 " She began to cry ; and little Davy began to cry, 
 too; and I I could n t cry, and I had ten times the 
 worst of it for being the man. By and by she spoke 
 up in a meeker voice. Make what you like of it/ she 
 said. We ve come to this, and I will follow you 
 where you say. We must step farther down ; we 
 must go where the rent is cheaper. Lead the way 
 and tell me what to do. 
 
 " Let s not be cross/ I said. There s one thing 
 you could do. It would make twice as much money. 
 No one would know you. It would keep us together 
 more. 
 
 " What is it? she said. 
 
 " l You ve a sweet little voice/ says I. The people 
 
176 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 here would look out for the baby in the evening. You 
 could come along with me and sing in the evening 
 while I played. 
 
 " < Oh ! she burst. < Would any other man but you 
 have proposed such a thing? You could n t you 
 could n t if you d been made right ! 
 
 " It s not my proposal/ I said. < It s God s pro 
 posal. It s the way the groove leads the groove we 
 can t climb out of, pride or anything. Put on a thick 
 veil to cover your eyes and nose j be as blind as I, if 
 you like. But they 11 listen to that voice of yours ; 
 they 11 give you money. 
 
 " You must let me try to get something else to do 
 first/ she said, driven into a corner. It means leav 
 ing Davy if I go out to slave somewhere j and I do 
 love Davy : but I 11 go ! 
 
 " But what can you do ? I said. 
 
 " l In a shop, somewhere/ says Laura. * I ve often 
 thought of it. In the kind of a shop where I 11 never 
 see any one I used to know. 
 
 " Then Davy and I had a holiday. The little rascal 
 could cut more monkey-shines to make a blind man 
 laugh than ever a child before him. When Laura 
 pushed open the door that evening Davy and I were 
 having the devil s own racket with a dust-pan and a 
 bandbox. You were meant for a pauper/ she said, 
 throwing herself in the armchair. You d sing on 
 the way to the poorhouse ! I did n t speak not till 
 I d got her to take some tea. < So you did n t find 
 anything? I said, when Davy was in bed. No/ she 
 said ; 1 1 can t make as much as you bring home. Aud 
 we could n t both leave Davy all day. 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 177 
 
 " Not in this world/ said I. l And so we 11 try the 
 night-work. 
 
 " And I won t be insulted as I was to-day, said 
 Laura, after a while. l For you 11 be always with me. 
 
 " It had given her a betterment, I thought, to go 
 and try for herself. Somehow I felt we both were 
 happier. She made no joke of coming on the street 
 with me that night j but she put on her veil and took 
 my arm without a sigh. We kissed little Davy, asleep, 
 and then we took the long walk down Fourteenth 
 Street, near to Second Avenue. She gripped my arm 
 tighter and tighter, but she walked on. It was a warm 
 Saturday night and everybody lounging here and 
 there. There was a little vacant space between two 
 sets of steps where I unlimbered ; and a crowd began 
 to collect the minute we stopped. We 11 do well/ 
 says I to her i and to-morrow you 11 get some of the 
 things you need. She shivered at the business way 
 I went at it. I heard the shuffle of feet close in 
 around us and felt her hand on my shoulder. Sing ! 
 I said. 
 
 " She pulled her veil above her lips and started the 
 song we d agreed on no common street song, for she 
 would n t have that, but a little ballad of long ago, 
 that she used to sing as a girl. It was hard, mighty 
 hard, the way she began : off the key ; and the crowd 
 laughed to break your heart. l It was my mistake/ 
 says I, in a hurry. Excuse me, miss/ says I ; for, 
 Heaven forgive me, I knew they d take better to a 
 miss than to a missus. i Excuse me, miss, says I, l but 
 there s such a jolly crew aboard the curb to-night that 
 I fell off my key. Will you begin again with that 
 
 12 
 
178 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 French song, miss ? says I. I said it to get the crowd 
 in a good humor 5 for I d long learned how to handle 
 them. But you 7 11 understand, perhaps, how it hurt 
 her to hear me talk so. It s bad enough for a man 
 like me to be driven into the streets with a harp ; but 
 it s ten times as bad to be driven low enough to suc 
 ceed there. And there was one man in the crowd that 
 worried me by the way he talked. There, dear/ says 
 he ; l you can t sing as pretty as you look ; but go on, 
 go on P He moved around to get nearer her. l Go 
 on, Laura/ I said, vamping for her to begin. 
 
 " Then she started once more. 7 T was hard enough 
 to hear how her voice had gone dry from the old days, 
 but she began off the key again ; and the crowd sent 
 up a howl that shivered down her arm and through 
 my shoulder. l Shut up, ye cattle P says that drunken 
 voice, pushing its way through the crowd. c She s 
 my Annie/ says he ; l ain t ye, dear P His voice seemed 
 close in my ear, and I rose from my camp-stool. Laura 
 give a cry. i He 7 s touching me/ she said. Leave 
 me alone P There was a lot of confusion and voices 
 I don t know what ; but I reached for Laura, and my 
 hand came down on an arm stretched out before her 
 face. Aye, but there was forty months of cruel suffer 
 ing and self -forbearance let loose from me while I 
 hammered that poor devil s head on the curb. When 
 they pulled us apart there was a terrible crowd. I 
 was being bundled into a patrol-wagon, and the man 
 I had hurt was lifted in beside me, insensible. I kept 
 calling for Laura, but I got no answer. I d have felt 
 good that minute if I could have only known where 
 she had gone for I thought I d given my evil fate a 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 179 
 
 bit of a punishing. But the moment we drove off I 
 heard that same brute voice again not from the man 
 that lay beside me, but from the middle of the crowd 
 around the wheels. t He was after me/ says the voice, 
 with a chuckle, t and he struck the wrong man ! 
 
 " They held on to me that night and over Sunday, 
 along with thieves and drunks. I could have stood 
 it if I d only heard from Laura. I gave my last 
 quarter to a messenger-boy j but he came back and 
 said she was n t there to take my note. He d never 
 gone near the place, I made up my mind. I could n t 
 but think about Davy whether something had hap 
 pened to Laura and she had n t got home little Davy 
 waking in the night and finding himself alone ! They 
 put me through the machine on Monday morning. I 
 had thought sure to see Laura then ; but she did n t 
 come. I told the judge my story straight, never dar 
 ing to conceal that she was my wife, singing in the 
 streets for the first time. The man I had hurt was 
 there, and his head too sore to forgive me ; but the 
 man that had started it all was no more there than 
 Laura. The judge was on my side. He fined me a 
 dollar and costs ; and some one in the crowd paid the 
 money I don t know who j I only suspect. But it 
 had made a rustle with the newspaper reporters. I 
 could hear my name and Laura s running off their 
 pencils. One of them followed me out of court, but 
 I would n t answer him. I knew he was following me 
 home; but I could n t wait to see Davy. Davy was 
 just the one comfort I had left : for Laura would never 
 sing in the streets again, I was sure; and what else 
 we could do I did n t know. 
 
180 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " I burst in the door and gave my whistle ; but I 
 did n t hear any answer. i Are you there ? 1 said. I 
 got the echo of my voice. Of course, I said to myself, 
 she s taken him out for an airing ; she did n t want to 
 take him into court to see his father in the dock ; and 
 she could n t leave him here. I sat long and long, 
 waiting for the sound of Davy s voice down-stairs. 
 Then I said to myself I would open the trunk where 
 his playthings belonged many the price of a supper 
 that I never ate had gone into those toys. I shuffled 
 along the floor with a happy thought to kill the time. 
 I would make him a church with a steeple out of his 
 blocks. When I got to the window my foot struck 
 the wall and not the trunk. Laura had moved the 
 trunk, I said to myself. And where? I kicked my 
 way around the narrow room. There was my trunk ; 
 but hers, with Davy s things I raked the floor beneath 
 the bed, I covered every foot of space, and could n t 
 find it. Surely, Laura must have pawned it. But 
 what had she done with Davy s blocks ? I felt in my 
 drawer. It was full of my things. Then I felt in his 
 drawer. It was empty of everything; and so was 
 his mother s. l Empty ! I said aloud. 
 
 " Empty ! said the room. 
 
 " I called up the man from down- stairs. * Did my 
 wife leave a note for me ? I said, quite matter-of-fact. 
 
 " l She sent her trunk away that s all I know/ he 
 said. l Then she and the boy drove off in a carriage 
 with your friend that wears the silk hat, 
 
 < My friend that wears the silk hat ! I said. 
 
 " i You mean to say you don t know him ? says the 
 man. I felt his eye on me, and I knew what the fool 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 181 
 
 was thinking. I had to lie, for I don t know now who 
 it was ; I can only guess. 
 
 " It s her brother/ I said, though a brother she 
 never had. i 1 m smiling at his wearing a silk hat- 
 that s all. Then I shut the door on him. 
 
 " I threw up the windows to let in the air. The 
 world was going on just the same outside. Laura had 
 gone. She d never come back. And she had taken 
 my Davy my flesh and blood and soul. I sat alone 
 in that room that had rung so often to little Davy s 
 laugh. How could the walls be so dead ? I asked my 
 self. I was all alone. And I had found out what it 
 was to be blind." 
 
 THE wind had tired out and left the sea like a floor. 
 Over your head the sky was a dull blue-black, with 
 never a star written there ; and away on the dividing- 
 line three streaks of orange cut the clouds to tell 
 where the sun had gone. The blind man sat all still 
 and stone twixt me and the light of the west, like the 
 world had passed beyond him and left him dead. 
 " Women women!" I says to meself, all young. 
 Then I throwed a pebble in the water. " What do ye 
 think to do now ? " says I. 
 
 " What does He think to do ? " says the blind man, 
 pointing up. " There must be an answer why they 
 took away my eyes and took away my Davy. Or else 
 t would be too foolish, you know. I m waiting till 
 my answer comes." 
 
 In a minute he heard me aboard the sloop, bailing 
 hard with me cap. 
 
 "My name was Horace Maiden," says he, "and 
 
182 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 this was the second day of May. And I wish you a 
 happy life." 
 
 " I m going to bring ye ashore," says I, " if these 
 planks will hold together." 
 
 In the instant he sprung to his feet and stood on 
 the highest rock, with a pair of heavy stones in his 
 hands. 
 
 "Tell em I was the bigger man," he says; "tell 
 7 em I said my Maker had turned my face to the 
 dark that you had to leave me here for fear of my 
 killing you. For I 11 never leave this spot but by a 
 miracle." 
 
 I come and stood beyond his reach. " There s some 
 one else that has a say in this," says I. " It ain t I, 
 and it ain t your wife, and it ain t you. But the voice 
 of little Davy is truer than yours or mine. And he s 
 making me say it for him because he s too little to 
 speak for himself that he wants ye to come back and 
 stick to him, and teach him to stick to you." 
 
 "You speak with the voice of the divil," says the 
 man, all white. " You re trying to use my weakness ; 
 but you can t, for 1 11 never budge. I was the dead 
 weight that held them down to starving. She was 
 right: her relations will make him rich. And I m 
 done and gone and out of the way. Push off and leave 
 me be !" he says, all feard of himself. 
 
 " He s going to grow up a coward," says I. " Little 
 Davy, with his twinkling legs and the dust-pan and 
 the bandbox. He s saying < Toot ! now, and listen 
 ing for his daddy s whistle on the stairs. And 
 would n t he fight me if he was here and I laid a 
 hand on ye ! But he s going to grow up a coward," 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 183 
 
 says I, "because he 11 never learn to stick by the luck 
 that goes in his blood." 
 
 The stones was loosening in his hands. " Oh, my 
 little Davy boy !" he speaks up out of his heart. 
 
 " Davy waiting at the top of the stairs," says I. 
 " And they won t tell him why he ll never know why." 
 
 The stones fell out of his hands and he covered his 
 face. "You ve robbed him," he says; "you ve 
 robbed him of all they d have done for him, because 
 I m so weak I can t withstand." 
 
 So I got him into the sloop. " Bail," says I, giving 
 him his hat. We pointed away for nearer land than 
 where we started from ; and, though the breeze was 
 all I wanted for my shivery pole, we leaked faster than 
 we sailed. I had me mind on where Davy s mother 
 might have gone, and how to hunt her up. But for 
 the blind man the time was long, and he got a-think- 
 ing again, and I knowed his hat hung loose in his 
 hand. 
 
 " Bail !" says I, in the dark, with the water in me 
 boots. 
 
 " I ve been bailing," he says, " nothing but bailing, 
 all these months. But it was n t any good, and it 
 won t be any good." 
 
 "Bail!" says I. 
 
 He thought we would sink if he stopped. He 
 throwed his hat away on the water and laid his head 
 on the rail. Slow and steady we put the reef behind 
 us. He did n t hear me drop astern and trail along in 
 the wake. By and by the beacon-lights growed big 
 and near. And all the while I d been thinking of 
 little Davy. 
 
184 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 The man was easy prey to the food and drink I gave 
 him ashore. " Curse your good intentions !" he says, 
 half tipsy in his bed. Then he fell asleep. 
 
 At midnight I was sitting on a bench in Washington 
 Square. I had taken the express to town, and found 
 the newspaper with the tale of the blind man s shindy, 
 and found his lodgings and the man that had taken 
 her trunk ; and I was camped in front of the house 
 where the trunk had been moved to. And what with 
 the whisky that me conscience had allowed aboard 
 me to balance the water in me boots, and the general 
 satisfaction I had to be thinking that little Davy was 
 where I could find him in the morning, I fell asleep, 
 with me last ten-dollar bill stowed away in me cap. 
 Before morning I felt some thief going through me 
 pockets j but I would n t swap me snooze for the plea 
 sure of spoiling his fun. I waked with the sun in me 
 eyes. There was a strange feeling in me heart, like 
 the bruise of a hurt. Was it hunger ? I said to meself . 
 I held up one of them night-owl restaurant- wagons 
 and made a breakfast. Then I killed time with me 
 pipe and the policeman on the beat. 
 
 When I asked for Mrs. Maiden they let me into a 
 room that smelt of violets and had a polished floor 
 and high-priced gimcracks on the tables. A man in 
 a sandy mustache come down the stairs, and a young 
 ish woman with faded clothes and faded eyes. 
 
 "Is this a newspaper reporter?" says she to the 
 sandy hair. 
 
 "I come to get little Davy and take him to his 
 father," I answered for meself. 
 
 11 You know that this house belongs to Mr. Delaroy s 
 
HELP FKOM THE HOPELESS 185 
 
 sister, then?" says she, meaning the man with the 
 sandy mustache. " And that I m staying here with 
 her?" 
 
 I would n t let her have the satisfaction I knowed 
 was due her, for the two of em give me too much of 
 a chill ; and I only says : 
 
 " I d like to take little Davy on the nine-o clock 
 train." 
 
 " What s the use ? " says Delaroy. " Mr. Maiden 
 surely knows the situation. You see," says he, " I m 
 tile executor of the will." 
 
 " Of the will of God ? " says I. " When it comes to 
 that," says I to her, " I m a bit of a lawyer ineself . 
 Ye can t tear that boy away from his father not 
 unless ye want to be singing out of tune with your 
 husband again, and that in the courts, with your 
 maiden name in the papers." 
 
 She went to the window and put her head beyond 
 the curtains. Delaroy looked from me to her and 
 give a sigh. The only sound that was made was a 
 pair of small shoes on the stairs one foot, one foot, 
 hurrying down. I saw a little smile between the 
 balusters, all happy and full of hope. "Daddy?" 
 says little Davy. No one spoke, but I put out me 
 hand. He pattered down the rest of the stairs. 
 "Daddy!" he says, running into the room and look 
 ing all around. Delaroy and his mother was looking 
 away from him. He come and looked up at me face, 
 his eyes all frowning. " Where is my daddy?" he 
 says to me. I rubbed me hand over me hair and 
 aimed a sickly smile at the other two. But they 
 would n t see it. Then I felt the profanity rising in 
 
186 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 me throat, but I swallowed it ; and I says, all hard 
 and soft together : 
 
 " I come to take ye to see your daddy, little man. 
 And you re going right away." 
 
 His mother turned to me as if to speak ; but she 
 did n t. She come up ag in little Davy s shout of joy. 
 Then I caught her looking hard at the face of me to 
 see what I thought of her. 
 
 " You 11 go," says she to Delaroy, "and bring him 
 back to-night f " 
 
 I did n t say anything to that. I took little Davy s 
 hand, and Delaroy put on his silk hat, and we all 
 went down the steps. 
 
 " Why did my daddy go away?" says Davy, in the 
 train, with his eyes all wide and serious. 
 
 "Why, there was a poor sailorman," says I, "that 
 was left all alone on a rock in the sea. And the poor 
 sailorman did n t know what to do. And, sure, I 
 don t know what he would have done; but your 
 daddy went out in a boat and brought him back all 
 safe and sound," says I. 
 
 He set a long time with his fingers round me thumb, 
 thinking hard. 
 
 "But why did n t my daddy say good-by to me?" 
 says he. 
 
 " He 11 say hello quick enough," says I, pointing up 
 to the window where I d left the blind man the night 
 before. Davy s legs begun to kick while I carried 
 him out of the car j and when I put him down he run 
 off like a wind-up toy, shouting : " Daddy ! Daddy !" 
 He made for the stairs, and stamped up, shouting : 
 " Daddy ! Daddy, I come in the choo-choo car !" till 
 
HELP FROM THE HOPELESS 187 
 
 the whole house was raised ; and " Daddy ! Daddy !" 
 I heard, till a door burst open and a voice all choked 
 says : " Davy, boy !" in a way that was worth your 
 wedding-ring to hear. 
 
 "Man," says his father, putting out his hand to 
 what he thought was me, " I have n t the words to 
 tell you what I" 
 
 " I m Delaroy," says the lawyer, taking the hand. 
 
 The blind man drew himself ag in the wall, with 
 his child on his arm. 
 
 " You were the man that could have taken better 
 care of her than I ve been able to," says he. " How 
 do you and I stand about her now ? " 
 
 " She ought to have told you she was writing to 
 me," says Delaroy. "It 7 s this: when you were sick 
 your doctor was a life-insurance examiner. You got 
 well, and then he made a report to his company, at 
 your father-in-law s request," says he, like reading a 
 brief. "And on that report the company accepted a 
 paid-up risk on your life. The premium was paid by 
 your father-in-law just before he died ; and you can 
 see that the policy is pretty large, for the premium 
 took up about the whole of his fortune. - So much for 
 Davy and his mother if you should die," says the 
 lawyer, looking at the big shoulders of the man. 
 " Now your father-in-law was an officer of the insur 
 ance company j and there exists a verbal agreement 
 between him and them, outside of the jurisdiction of 
 the courts, I think," says he, "by which, in case you 
 desert your wife, or allow her other grounds for a 
 decree of separation, why, then the company, being 
 honorable men, will pay back the entire premium to 
 
188 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 your wife, in exchange for the policy, which is in my 
 possession. 
 
 " So there are two courses open to you," says he, 
 summing up. " One is to act in such a manner that 
 the court will allow the decree and thus make your 
 son a rich woman s son and give him a splendid 
 chance in the world. The other is for you to be blind " 
 here he stops and coughs " I mean, to be oblivi 
 ousto your son s interests j to insist on Mrs. Maiden s 
 trying to escape starvation by singing songs in the 
 streets to please the rowdies in the Bowery j and to 
 keep on till you all three land up in the poorhouse or 
 the hospital, according to chance." 
 
 The blind man stood ag in the wall, all pale, He 
 cleared his throat, and he says, in a pretty fair voice : 
 " Never mind the money. Who gets Davy ? Who is 
 Davy going to grow up with ? " 
 
 " The courts would n t give him to you," says the 
 lawyer. " Neither wmild his mother. And you you 
 don t mean to say you would have him spend his life 
 in the gutter, in the places where you go ! He 11 be 
 educated and go to college and be a gentleman. And 
 you of course you 11 not be forgotten." 
 
 The boy hung close to his father s neck, looking 
 from one to another of us, and looking frightened at 
 his father s face. I ached with the grinding of me 
 teeth. 
 
 " I want air here," says the blind man, putting out 
 his hand. 
 
 Davy was ready to cry. "Daddy! 7 ? he whispers, 
 pulling at his father s head. 
 
 The blind man begun to stroke the little One s, hair 
 
HELP FKOM THE HOPELESS 189 
 
 as soft as if the child was dead. " I have n t any 
 friends/ 7 says the man, half to himself. " I have n t 
 anything but that harp. There s going to be snow 
 and cold and dirty streets and rowdy talk," he says to 
 the child, drawing a terrible breath. " And sure," he 
 says, laying his cheek ag in little Davy, " I don t know 
 I don t know whether I" His voice stuck. 
 
 The boy was kissing and kissing his father s cheek, 
 all hot with fear. " Daddy I love you !" he says, all 
 wild. 
 
 I got me jaws apart. 
 
 " By the kiss of the Virgin," says I, " he 11 never 
 lack for a place while I m an able-bodied man. Don t 
 ye see ye can t go wrong if ye steer by what your 
 Maker planted in your heart ? Stick to him stick to 
 him, man !" says I, shaking his shoulder. " He 11 grow 
 up a man for it." 
 
 Delaroy give me a look, but he did n t speak. We 
 watched the two ag in the wall. We saw the blind 
 man straighten up like the storm was past. He give 
 a soft kiss to his baby. He stowed the child on his 
 other shoulder. Then says he : 
 
 " You re right. If it had n t all come together, I 
 think I d have said so sooner. Davy stays with me : 
 not for my sake, but for his own." 
 
 WE saw Delaroy s silk hat climb into the train. 
 Davy sat on his father s shoulder like a bird on a 
 bough. I lit me pipe. 
 
 " Me friend," says I, " I can sit here and hear that 
 baby singing like a robin. And yet I can grudge the 
 rib that was stole from Adam. Let other fools go 
 
190 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 hunting : I 11 live me life without my rib j and 
 damn 7; 
 
 He come and put his hand on my head. He was 
 smiling ; and now he was handsome. 
 
 "My boy/ 7 says he, all soft, "if you can t forgive 
 her, then you never loved her." 
 
 That was twenty years ago, by the gray hairs I saw 
 in the glass this morning ! Me and Clarence is going 
 to the opera to-night; and the blind man will be 
 there betwixt us, choking a pleasant sob. And me 
 and Clarence will raise the roof with a pair of hands 
 like clubs. For little Davy will come out, with his 
 forty-two inch chest, and sing your soul to Paradise. 
 
 And I did forgive Mary Travers long ago. 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 
 
 T was the ball of the Reverend Order 
 of Wise Men, in Filbert Street. A 
 chance acquaintance had sold me 
 the tickets, saying he could n t pay 
 his dues to the order and he was 
 ashamed to be present, for fear of 
 violence. So meself went disguised as the legs of 
 Hamlet and the body of Robinson Crusoe j and little 
 Clarence O Shay went clad as a bird of paradise, with 
 that many kaleidoscope feathers sewed on to him that 
 he looked like an explosion in a paint-shop. But no 
 sooner we come to the place where the Wise Men and 
 Women was thronging to the ball than Clarence gets 
 an attack of his bashful misgivings ; and he holds on 
 to the door and won t let me drag him inside. He 
 says what was the use of him going to a ball, anyway ? 
 for, even if he could dance, why, no woman would ever 
 allow it of him. He says that never any one in pet 
 ticoats but always give a sniff at him and whispers 
 " bandy-legs " or " brick-top" or " bullet-head/ 7 and 
 then passes him by in the cold. " Women is only skin- 
 deep, anyway j that s my philosophy," says Clarence, 
 in a loud voice. And he says a man can leave his 
 heart and soul on the hat-rack, if he only comes into a 
 girl s parlor with a stylish face. He says if some one 
 
 13 193 
 
194 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 would give a ball entire in the dark, why, then he 
 would go : for he says that then the test would be the 
 size of your boldness, and not the square yards of your 
 beauty ; and himself would bring off as many broken 
 hearts by three o clock in the morning as any of us 
 spider-leg divils. And this he adverts with special 
 reference to a tall man that stood dressed in the forked 
 tail of Satan and would seem to be smiling contemp 
 tuous at Clarence from behind of his mask. 
 
 Till I had to explain to O Shay that his countenance 
 was fully suppressed by the false face he wore, and 
 was n t his chances as equal as any one else s? And 
 had he ever looked that handsome and unrecognizable 
 in his life, says I, as he did to-night in the skin and 
 visage of a bird ? And I pretended to be taken down 
 with a presentiment that here he was doomed to meet 
 with the lady of his future love. 
 
 But when I slid him out on the waxy floor, with the 
 jam of fancy dress and clatter of tongues and the 
 glare of gas and two hundred ody-colognes contending 
 with the air, it brought back the mournful bend to his 
 mind. For he says, look at 7 em all jabbering to each 
 other; and we did n t know any one there ; and if we 
 did know her we would n t know her, for every girl 
 Jill had her nose in a mask. Till I put it in his ear 
 that if his wits was as brazen as he always claimed 
 they would be when once dishandicapped of his face, 
 why, let him dive in and pick out the mermaid that 
 tickled his choice. But what he would grieve in reply 
 was engulfed in the blare of the band. Clarence awoke 
 to find me departed, and himself strayed and lost in 
 a galloping waltz, knocked hither and yon like a nine- 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 195 
 
 pin. He struck out for the wall like drownding ; and 
 at length he exudes from the cloud of heels and climbs 
 up in a chair, as disturbed as an owl at a cat show. 
 
 Meself had gone off with an acquaintance I had 
 made while stooping to pick up her handkerchief. 
 ; T was an able dancer; but she suffered pitiful from 
 thirst, such that t was more than an hour before I 
 took notice again of the bird of paradise. Bedad, 
 there he was, cocked up in the same empty space, try 
 ing to look enjoyable as though he would scorn to 
 dance if ye begged of him, and had spent five dollars 
 for his false face and feathers pure for observing the 
 eccentricities of man. T was the height of a quadrille, 
 and the only creature sitting down, save Clarence, was 
 a girl I had noticed before, over forninst Clarence on 
 the other side of the hall, and looking as stately and 
 mortified as himself. She was dressed in a Moorish 
 veil that covered her head entire, and a bracelet around 
 her waist that dangled with countless ribbons and 
 bells. I kept making signals for Clarence to run over 
 and draw her fire, with an object of his closing in with 
 her for the evening ; and the man in the forked tail, 
 which I now recalled I had seen with her on the stairs, 
 kept nodding approval from opposite me in the quad 
 rille. But Clarence protected his embarrassment by 
 pretending not to see. 
 
 So after the quadrille the forked tail goes over and 
 gets the lonely girl, and parades her jingling up and 
 down before Clarence once or twice, then drops her 
 into the chair next to Clarence and disappears in the 
 crowd like a philanthropic man. So that in the course 
 of some seconds Clarence got bold to look with the 
 
196 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 corner of his eye at what had happened beside him ; 
 and he judges from the make of her shoes that she was 
 a likely girl too likely to be likely to take up with 
 such as him, he says. And while his glance was crawl 
 ing up slow toward her veil the music broke out with 
 a dizzy mazurka when she pushed a bit for ard as 
 if to rise, and Clarence encounters her full in the face 
 of the veil, with her eyes displaying the signal as plain 
 as day : " If ye can hit a house ye can shoot me for 
 this dance !" Till the red run down out of Clarence s 
 hair in a sunburst of rapturous fright, and he tied up 
 his feet in a knot round the rungs of his chair. The 
 girl sat back with a bit of a sigh, though still gazing 
 at him ; and says Clarence, sure if he stirred a hand 
 she would speak to him. Till with every one else all 
 rearing and plunging to the dance, here sits the two 
 of em like waxworks alone in respect of sitting down 
 together, and together in respect of sitting there alone. 
 
 " Why, ye bad little man," I whispers to him by and 
 by, " this elegant girl has made up her mind that she 11 
 dance with none but you at the ball !" 
 
 " Ye think she s taken such a fancy to me as that ? " 
 says Clarence, trying not to laugh with pleasure. 
 
 "Sure," says I, inventing it all to inflate up his 
 courage. " And if ye should mew in her ear I m 
 thinking she would n t scratch ye little lady-killer ! 
 
 "Lannigan," he whispers, shaking his fist, "if she 
 speaks to me I m the man to answer back !" 
 
 I stood up in front of him and looked hard at the 
 girl. 
 
 " I agree with your admiration," says I to him, aloud ; 
 " and of course your having disjointed your hip and 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 197 
 
 can t dance this evening don t interfere with agreeable 
 conversation at all. And of course/ says I, " a mutual 
 acquaintance begun at a ball will often lead to the 
 most pleasant complications." If that would n t break 
 the ice for em, I says to meself, then nothing but the 
 police could force em to speak ; and I faded from view. 
 But some forty minutes later I found meself staring, 
 the same as the man in the forked tail, all puzzled, 
 across the hall. For there, with her looking at him, 
 side by side sits the girl and the bird of paradise, 
 stuffed and mounted the same as before. And whe 
 ther no word had yet passed between em, or whether 
 each one had long ago reiterated all the sounds he 
 knowed how to make and then fallen back on wireless 
 telegraphy, neither me nor the divil would seem to 
 divine. For it had happened that at first Clarence 
 had declared to himself that he was in fact a bad little 
 bird, and he would have a tale to tell on this girl when 
 he saw me again. And he had begun once more look 
 ing at her feet, which from the color of her stockings 
 he interpreted that her eyes was his favorite blue. 
 And remembering that her head was wrapped up as 
 choice as a Florida orange, he argues that she was as 
 handsome as any girl at the ball j and perhaps, he says 
 to himself, here was the lady of his fate, and him and 
 her sitting and falling in love with each other ! The 
 idea made him turn spontaneous to look once more at 
 her veil when her eyes made a dart like a spider, and 
 caught him that full in the face that Clarence uttered 
 the most extensive blush of his life, and raised him 
 self off his chair on his hands, in his shame. And 
 there, with time rushing by, he hung on the knife- 
 
198 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 edge of three dilemmas : one being anxiety lest she 
 would speak to him ; and another being fear lest she 
 would take no notice of him ; and the sharpest of all 
 being a terrible yearning to run from the place like 
 an ostrich and bury his head in the sand. 
 
 Till now the divil walks over and looks for a minute 
 at Clarence that close as if thinking to buy him, which 
 begins to rile the little man ; so that the divil only says, 
 " Last dance before supper !" and walks off j and the 
 girl begins to wake up as though something was about 
 to happen. She begun pounding the waltz ag in her 
 hand with her fan, which Clarence takes for a sign 
 impending. He remembers he had forgot what it was 
 he was going to answer if she should speak to him ; 
 and he heaves up a nervous sigh that contains all his 
 feelings of hope and distress when the girl, bedad, 
 heaves up the mate to it, as if he had spoken first and 
 she was answering back. And to drown his alarm 
 Clarence begins humming the tune of the dance when 
 on the second bar the girl crowds in to hum it with 
 him, and tosses her head as if to say "What next?" 
 Then the band shut down ; every one dove to the wall 
 for a chair to blow off in ; and Clarence thinks, sure 
 in the middle of such confusion she will break through 
 the ice and him be floundering in conversation with 
 her. And such a crowd of broad-handed ballet-girls, 
 circus-riders, and Lady Macbeths flopped down on her 
 side, and such a hulking bunch of milkmaids, colum 
 bines, and Sleeping Beauties dropped down on his side, 
 that they wedged him in like a scene in a horse-car, 
 till the scent of her handkerchief went up to his nose 
 like chloroform, and his heart darted north, east, and 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 199 
 
 south like a mouse in a trap, till he thought he would 
 die with expectations. 
 
 But the next minute some one down the hall raised 
 the cry of supper ; and the five hundred Wise Men and 
 Women rushed in a panic for the door. In ten sec 
 onds here was Clarence and the girl alone in the empty 
 hall like left by the tide. 
 
 The man in the forked tail had lingered in the cor 
 ridor, with his chin in his hand. In a moment he 
 comes slowly back, and says he to the girl : 
 
 "How ye doing?" 
 
 And the girl gives a quarter turn toward Clarence, 
 then the half of a laugh, and says she : 
 
 " Who said I ims doing?" 
 
 But the meaning of this was opaque to the divil, 
 and the situation seeming delicate, he scratched his 
 head, for he had the way of a gentleman, though a 
 villain at heart, and says he : 
 
 " Ain t you two going in to supper?" 
 
 The girl gave a decent pause ; but then, when Clar 
 ence still sits red and dumb and staring at his nose, 
 she suddenly rips out a " No !" and jumps up and 
 throws herself in a chair away from him. Till the 
 divil rubs his shin ag in his leg, for he could n t make 
 out for the life of him whether the girl was foaming 
 because he would n t go away and leave her with the 
 bird of paradise, or mad because Clarence had done 
 nothing but camp on the ice. So he says to her : 
 
 " Well, then, why don t ye introduce your friend ? " 
 
 " Why ? " shrieks the girl. " Because I ain t made 
 any friend !" 
 
 The divil gives a snort of complete distaste. 
 
200 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 "Then what good are ye?" he burst out. "If ye 
 ain t made a friend to-night, then ye never will. Why, 
 you could n t pick raspberries !" he blurts, with a 
 glance of disdain at Clarence s feathers. And he 
 stalks out the door. 
 
 Clarence sat broiling in his chair. A man, he mut 
 ters, that would speak like that to a beautiful young 
 creature like this ! His shoulders begun rising in 
 knots, forgetting the girl herself that sat with the 
 struggle of forks and plates in her ears from afar. 
 She must have been counting twenty; for up she 
 jumps, throws down her fan and stamps on the 
 remains, then jingles out into the corridor. 
 
 "Look here!" says her voice, like a rasp. "I m 
 going home !" 
 
 " Then I would go home," says the voice of the divil, 
 " and never come to a ball again !" 
 
 And with this Clarence hears her clatter down the 
 stairs and out in the rain. The air was free of femi 
 nine presence now, and out waddles the bird of par 
 adise, as bristling as a bantam and as bold as a hawk. 
 He finds the divil at the top of the long, steep stairs, 
 looking down in a rage at the swinging doors below. 
 The divil turns quick around and says : 
 
 " Look here, me cockatoo, what intentions have ye 
 with that lady?" 
 
 Then Clarence takes two steps f or ard, and leans up 
 hard ag in the divil, and inquires if the divil was try 
 ing to push him down the stairs. And proceeding 
 from this, Clarence must of course commit one of his 
 rudenesses, such as was always filling me soul with 
 shameful impropriety. I will not say what it was, 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 201 
 
 any more than to hint that the two of em arrived at 
 the bottom of the stairs in the most discourteous con 
 fusion, and that in the argument ensuing Clarence 
 leaves the divil lying minus of his tail, and walks off 
 without asking of his health. 
 
 " YE cloud of disgrace !" says I to Clarence, next morn 
 ing. " What harm did he mean ? " 
 
 "What harm!" says Clarence. "Did n t he ruin 
 me life ? Would n t she like as not have spoke before 
 morning? And here he shames her out of the place ! 
 When will I ever see the poor darling again ? " he wails. 
 "As handsome a girl as ever sit down in a chair !" he 
 says. " And maybe crying her eyes out this minute 
 for we 11 never meet again this side of the grave !" 
 
 Till that afternoon Clarence saw a tall man come 
 aboard of us and single him out from the crew. 
 
 " I m told your name is O Shay," says the tall man, 
 all solemn. 
 
 "Are you the divil the one I was speaking to on 
 the way down-stairs last night ? " says Clarence, glass 
 ing it over with hope of hearing about the girl. 
 
 " Ye mean the gentleman in the costume of Satan, 
 I suppose," says the tall man. " No. As to me, I m 
 his lawyer. And as to himself, he is dead." 
 
 " Dead ! " says Clarence, turning blue. 
 
 "Ye hove him in the chest with a cobblestone," 
 says the lawyer, " and he died of a broken heart." 
 
 And of course in such circumstances, says the law 
 yer, the least that Clarence could do to avoid ill feeling, 
 supposing of course he wished to spare the expense of 
 being tried and hanged for his crime, was either to 
 
202 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 pay five thousand dollars obsequies to the widow, or 
 else offer to marry her in exchange for the murder 
 and kindly return the tail of the hired costume. And 
 Clarence could have twenty-four hours to think it over. 
 
 Which he did think it over ; for it got terrible on 
 his mind. And he begun to waste away that bad that 
 at evening I obtained leave with him, and we went 
 up-town to discover whether the man was killed or 
 not, and if the lawyer was not trying to obtain either 
 money or marriage on false pretenses : for I suspected 
 the lawyer to be the man behind the mask of the divil ; 
 but what was his use of a widow in his scheme I 
 could n t divine. So I borrowed a Prince Albert coat 
 and a stovepipe, which is ag in the navy regulations, 
 and I tried to walk like a member of the bar, with 
 Clarence towing behind like a gallows parade. The 
 house was one of them Philadelphia brick living-bins 
 that differ from the next ten thousand only by the 
 number on the door. The lawyer opens to us in his 
 carpet slippers, and apologizes for having no heat in 
 the house, observing that he was an especial cold 
 blooded man. He looks at me paws, all engraved with 
 tattooing, and at me citizen s togs, which was a few 
 inches spare at the extremities ; and I did n t seem to 
 scare him much. He arranged me on a horsehair sofa, 
 and Clarence dwindles down beside me on a chair. 
 Then the lawyer cleared his throat, and I spoke. 
 
 " I understand," says I, " that there has been a slight 
 contusion between me client, Mr. O Shay, and your 
 client, Mr. Smudd. We came," says I, " to bring back 
 your client s tail," says I, holding it up, " and call it 
 square without further animadversions." 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 203 
 
 " I regret/ says the lawyer, all in a minor key, 
 " that the lesion between your client and the late Mr. 
 Smudd cannot be healed by that yard and a half of red 
 flannel. For not only was there assault, battery, and 
 manslaughter, resulting in death, but your client went 
 so far as to spread the entire proceedings with a can 
 opy of libel and calumny. Now, to begin with, I 
 assume," says he, with invidious coyness, "that 
 twould be somewhat inconvenient to your client to 
 dangle by the neck till maybe he forgets his name ? " 
 
 " Ye 11 pardon me," says I, " but the verdict is not 
 yet tied round me client s neck. And I would first 
 request that ye produce some of Mr. Smudd s remains. 
 For at present we have nothing but a gentleman s 
 word of honor meaning yourself," says I, all polite 
 " to prove that Mr. Smudd is dead." 
 
 I had thought this would take a trick, but the law 
 yer only give a kindly smile. 
 
 " Ye don t think," says he, " that, out of respect for 
 your client s feelings, we let Smudd lay here in the 
 city, where the police would get hold of the matter ! 
 Why, the first thing he said himself, when he heard 
 his heart was broke, was to have us send him across 
 to New Jersey; for otherwise he feared that Mr. 
 O Shay would be brought into court. And I don t 
 want him to pay for his terrible crime by hanging/ 
 says Smudd. I would prefer he would marry me 
 widow. " 
 
 " Your words bring tears to me eyes," says I, with 
 a smile ; " but I still insist that ye prove that your 
 client is dead." 
 
 " And I regret, then," says the lawyer, with a shrug, 
 
204 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 " that the only proof is involved with a coroner s jury 
 and trying your client for murder." 
 
 The man sat that comfortable in his chair that I 
 could see Clarence swinging in the jail-yard. 
 
 " Anyway," says I, "ye 11 have to prove that death 
 was subsequent to the cobblestone. Now, beginning 
 at the top of the stairs, what have ye to prove that 
 death had not already ensued when the trouble com 
 menced ? " 
 
 "What did he say to ye rolling down the stairs?" 
 says the lawyer, turning quick to Clarence, which had 
 sunk to a spot on the haircloth. 
 
 "He says Dog! to me," answers Clarence, with a 
 husky per cent, of his voice. The blockhead would 
 not understand my signal to make him keep still. 
 
 " And what did he say just as ye abutted ag in him 
 with the cobblestone ? " says the lawyer. 
 
 "He says more <DogP to me," whispers the dunce. 
 " By which ye hope to prove that the corpse was 
 alive when Clarence killed it," says I, in a rage. " In 
 which case me defense will be insanity ; for a man 
 that will give himself away like that is a blithering 
 fool and deserves to be hanged. But first," says I, 
 bringing down me fist, " I insist on a private view of 
 your client s remains. Otherwise I begin legal pro 
 ceedings to-morrow morning; and the first thing ye 
 know, I will file a caveat, come into court with a 
 demurrer, and throw meself in escrow." 
 
 It looked like he was as good a lawyer as me j for 
 he says, without a ripple, though the word " escrow " 
 was as new to him as to me : 
 
 " I have anticipated each of those moves. I shall 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 205 
 
 apply for an injunction ag in your caveat, cross-coun 
 ter your demurrer with a writ of nolens volens ; and 
 if ye think ye can influence the jury by throwing fits 
 in court," says he, ".why, ye don t know the price of 
 votes in Philadelphia." 
 
 I could see meself weeping at Clarence s grave. 
 O Shay looks up appealing out of his shoes to me. 
 The lawyer turns to his desk. 
 
 " I will write one telegram to the coroner," says he ; 
 "and another to Mr. Smudd s remains directing em 
 to get on the first train from Atlantic City." 
 
 "Hold on!" says I. " T is common law that ye 
 can t shift a body from one State to another without 
 a writ of habeas corpius. Produce your writ !" 
 
 But he never stops writing. 
 
 "I ve a drawerful of such writs," says he, "both 
 male and female." And we sits in silence, with the 
 pen scratching the paper and Clarence s eyes turned 
 up like a dying fish. 
 
 "Then," says I, "we accept your conclusions. 
 Owing to financial fluctuations, me client can raise bat 
 fifteen dollars of the amount ye name as compensation. 
 Fifteen dollars and the red flannel tail," says I, " and 
 let it go at that !" 
 
 The lawyer give a sickly smile. " Not for a ton of 
 red flannel tails," says he ; and he takes up his pen. 
 
 " Then," says I, " Mr. O Shay takes up with the other 
 horn of your proposition, and offers to marry Mrs. 
 Smudd. So be it. And I hope the engagement will 
 prove a happy ending to last night s misunderstanding, 
 which was entirely without malice aforethought, but 
 merely Clarence over judged the durability of her hus- 
 
206 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 band s ribs. And I m thinking," says I, in disgust, 
 " that a man with a paper-mache shell like that ought 
 to wear a badge." 
 
 The lawyer gives a smile of great pleasure. 
 
 " Very well," says he. " Mr. O Shay will offer Mrs. 
 Smudd the satisfaction of a gentleman. I will not 
 introduce him as the murderer of her husband, how 
 ever, but merely as a common sailor; for I think 
 t would be more delicate for all concerned. And since 
 time is all the money your client has, why, if he will 
 kindly step into the back parlor and come out in ten 
 minutes with Mrs. Smudd s hand, we will all drown 
 the late unpleasantness in a small glass of bitters." 
 
 He slides back the door to the empty room like a 
 spider, and waves for the fly to pass in. For a moment 
 the little man stuck to the floor ; and he swallowed his 
 throat, blinking like a barber s scissors. I gave him 
 me hand good-by. 
 
 " Clarence," says I, "was there anything ye wanted 
 to say ? " 
 
 " Only this," says Clarence, yanking at his cap : " if 
 ye ever see that girl at the ball again, why, tell her I 
 only done it to save me neck !" 
 
 He gives a couple of teary winks at the wall ; then 
 he shuffles across the threshold, and the door slides 
 behind him and his doom. 
 
 Here he was, he says to himself, in for life with a 
 woman he would n t know on the street. And good-by 
 to that beautiful soul at the ball maybe she would 
 hear of his fate some day and shed a few tears down 
 her Grecian nose in his memory. What a bad man he 
 was, to have slain one of his kind ! And what could ye 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 207 
 
 expect, with the luck of his flaming hair? His soul 
 froze up with the jingle of petticoats coming down the 
 stairs in high-heel shoes. He backs off in the corner. 
 A door swung open, and in, with a rattle of bells, veil 
 and all, come the lonely girl of the ball. 
 
 "Is Mrs. Smudd you?" says Clarence, like to cry. 
 
 "Not any more," says the voice behind the veil. 
 "Make yourself at home; for some one killed the 
 brute last night with a cobblestone, and left me 
 sitting in the hands of fate," says she, with expecta 
 tion. And her having the veil on was only gladness 
 for Clarence ; for it seemed to soften the embarrass 
 ment of his joy. 
 
 "I think I have seen ye somewhere before," says 
 Mrs. Smudd, to take up the slack in the conversa 
 tion, " though not in the face." 
 
 At the same moment Clarence looked up and saw 
 the unfortunate misperspective of his own face re 
 flected in the mirror ; and the hope of his heart sunk 
 out of sight again. Now she did see his face ; and 
 would an angel like her take up with such as him ? 
 No ; she would first let him hang ! 
 
 "I suppose ye 11 be marrying soon," he broke out, 
 with a cold perspiration. 
 
 "Not unless I m asked," says Mrs. Smudd, all firm. 
 
 " Some long-legged man with a straight nose !" 
 says Clarence. " Of course, if anybody has a stylish 
 countenance, never mind the rest." 
 
 " Is that how you look at it?" says Mrs. Smudd. 
 
 "Not at all," says Clarence. "With me beauty 
 don t count. 7 T is only the size of your heart that 
 figures with me. That s why I expect to die single," 
 
208 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 says he, hearing the death-warrant being read in 
 his cell. 
 
 "Ye mean it don t count if a person is ugty, so 
 long as the heart beats the tune of true love ? " says 
 Mrs. Smudd, all soft. 
 
 "I do," says Clarence, shifting so not to get the 
 taste of his face from the mirror. " That s my phi 
 losophy," says he. " I could have been as handsome 
 a man as ye like, if I wanted," says Clarence ; " but 
 t was of her own free will that me mother married a 
 plain-featured man. I ; m thinking she had more 
 sense than the girls do now," he hints. 
 
 Mrs. Smudd hove a pleasurable sigh that floated 
 him back to the evening before, and made him think 
 of a mouth all milk and roses. 
 
 "Don t say that, Mr. O Shay," says she, all plead 
 ing. " For ye speak the very words that are printed 
 on me heart. Any other man would begin with tell 
 ing me I was handsome ; and if any one should pre 
 tend to love me on that account I would mistrust 
 him I would sure mistrust him !" she murmurs. 
 " Mr. O Shay," says she, " I never hoped to meet with 
 any one like you ! Dear me," says she, "it s shocking 
 how the clock goes round !" She throws an eye at 
 the time. Behind the door the lawyer looks at me 
 and coughs. Clarence gathers himself to take the 
 ditch or fall in the mire. 
 
 "Then, Mrs. Smudd," says he, "I would like to 
 say could ye find it convenient to do me the honor 
 to be to ?" says Clarence, trying to rest in the 
 middle of the jump. 
 
 "To be your wife?" utters Mrs. Smudd. 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 209 
 
 A blush like the red flannel tail run down out of 
 Clarence s hair, and his eyes tried to hide in the back 
 of his head ; then, as faint as the end of a speaking- 
 tube, he whispers : " Yes !" 
 
 He heard her sit down on the arm of his chair. 
 
 " Then I suppose ye 11 insist on me taking off me 
 veil !" says she, in the middle of a long pause. " And 
 ye swear ye mean all the sweet words ye said, dear ? " 
 says Mrs. Smudd. 
 
 "Yes," says Clarence, from a bit farther up the 
 tube. 
 
 "Then," says Mrs. Smudd, with a laugh, "I sup 
 pose I will have to take off the veil first !" 
 
 She begun removing pins and bric-a-brac from the 
 veil ; and it seemed to Clarence like every pin was a 
 spike drawn out of his flesh and filled with sweet oil. 
 For he was not to be hanged, but instead was to 
 marry the beautiful belle of the ball, like the prince 
 in the fairy-book. He gave a look around the room : 
 there was divil a soul to see what would happen next. 
 A terrible smile stretched his mouth. Mrs. Smudd 
 gave a switch to her veil, and leaned over and looked 
 down in his face. And Clarence fell back in his chair. 
 
 I VE heard of a frog-witted Frenchman that climbed 
 all proud one night half-way to the top of a steeple, 
 thinking t was an angel awaiting to marry him there. 
 Till sudden he finds himself face to face with a hor 
 rible gargoyle, looming over and grinning to him in 
 the moon. And he slides all the way back to the 
 churchyard, leaving his mind in the air. T was like 
 this with Clarence O Shay. And he did n t know yet 
 
 14 
 
210 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 of the evil old party she was, conniving to get herself 
 down off the shelf by false pretenses. Oh, what a 
 face she had ! Ye could hear the tick of the clock. 
 
 "Are ye ill, dear?" says she, with her smile dis 
 solving in doubt. 
 
 He sits a long time. Then he opens his eyes and 
 scribbles a piece of paper. 
 
 " What s this?" says she, aching to read it. But 
 he only motions solemn to the door. She slides it 
 open, with forty lines of hard suspicion on her face. 
 
 "Your friend," says she, having closed Clarence 
 tight in the back parlor, "pretends to be taken with 
 a spell." And ye could tell by the way her ears laid 
 back that she was n t nigh done with him yet. I read 
 what Clarence had written : 
 
 Let liim bring on his habeas corpius. 
 
 C. 
 
 Then I opened the door and looked in. But all 
 we could find of O Shay was an open window and two 
 little stars a- winking from the sky. 
 
 WHEN I came aboard at midnight here he was, 
 stuffing himself with all he owned. 
 
 " It s South America at daylight on that brig out 
 there," he whispers. " But I think he killed himself, 
 all the same !" 
 
 "Ye need n t desert the navy," says I. "For the 
 lawyer was the divil in the forked tail, and she was 
 his indisposable sister. She gave it all away in her 
 rage." 
 
CLARENCE AT THE BALL 211 
 
 Then we went on deck to enjoy the peace of a 
 pipeful. 
 
 "That face I m going to sit up all night!" says 
 Clarence, closing his eyes to the memory of it. 
 
 "But speaking of beauty/ says I, "why, what of 
 your philosophy ? " 
 
 " Me philosophy !" says Clarence, exuding the word 
 in the air with his smoke. " Me opinion of philosophy 
 is henceforth to leave it alone. >T is entire too apt 
 to blow up with yourself on board." 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM "WITH GIRLS 
 
 HEN the seventy blue-jackets had 
 tumbled into their second-class 
 sleepers at Jersey City, bound for 
 Mare Island, there had been a good 
 deal of leave-taking; but no girl 
 had crossed the river to hear any 
 promises from Clarence O Shay. 
 Four days later, on the last slow grades of the Ari 
 zona mountains, when some one with a banjo had 
 finished bawling through the tobacco-smoke : 
 
 Ev ry nigger has a lady but me ! 
 
 Clarence said : 
 
 "Some men can bag the women, and some men 
 can t ; and that ? s the end of it. 77 
 
 " I don t say that a little sawed-off man like you 
 would ever class in with Don Juan," said Lannigan, 
 after a moment, "but you have no science and no 
 system ; and that s why you sit all the time with the 
 girl that has the wooden leg whenever you go to a 
 ball." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; and how many hand-painted hat-bands 
 do you get sent through the mail ? " said Clarence. 
 
 "Because I can walk Broadway without looking 
 
 215 
 
216 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 behind me," said Lannigan, " was I never a bit of a 
 flier meself ? I ve been that embroiled with a girl 
 that I could neither sit, stand, nor run ; neither lie, tell 
 the truth, nor keep still. But you you don t speak 
 the female language." 
 
 "Well, what kind of a system?" said Clarence. 
 
 "Suppose my middle finger was a pretty young 
 thing like peaches and cream," said Lannigan ; " and 
 suppose my stump of a left-hand thumb was Clarence 
 O Shay. You heave alongside before she knows it, 
 and you open on her like this : l You re the finest girl 
 I Ve seen from here to Yokohama ! " 
 
 "And then have her say to me, Come off, little 
 man ! You re giving me paper flowers ! " 
 
 "Most likely," said Lannigan; "but that s only 
 female language. It s the same as though she said, 
 I wish you meant that, Mr. O Shay ; but I m afraid 
 you don t. With so much counterfeit money these 
 days, we girls can t be too careful. And then you 
 say how it hurts you to be doubted, with her beauty 
 gone to your heart like brandy; and you a lonely 
 man, as trustful as a child ; and how you re longing 
 for a happy home, with a canary-bird and a waxwork 
 in the parlor." 
 
 " But what would I be doing with a happy home," 
 said Clarence, " and me in China ? " 
 
 " What does a woman care if a thing is true or not," 
 said Lannigan, "if she finds a man that can make her 
 believe it ? You tell her it s passing the rest of your 
 days with her or drownding yourself to-morrow." 
 
 " Who d have the face to say that," said Clarence, 
 "if he did n t mean it?" 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 217 
 
 "That s what she 11 think/ said Lannigan. 
 
 " She s more apt to give me the laugh, and say, 
 1 Rubber gum-drops ! " said Clarence. 
 
 "Let her keep on saying it," said Lannigan. "All 
 of a sudden you change your tactics. You begin to 
 get mad because she doubts you. You drop your face 
 and pick up your hat " 
 
 Clarence sniffed. His mind traveled back to his 
 last evening in Brooklyn. It was an aifair of which 
 he had not spoken to Lannigan, but Clarence blurted 
 out: 
 
 " That s just what I did do ! " 
 
 "And what did she say?" said Lannigan, holding 
 his pipe. 
 
 " I grabbed me cap, and I says, I m going, I says. 
 1 Do you know where I in going ? I says. I can t 
 say I do, says she. l Well, says I, i I m going where 
 me word is believed ; I m going where me face- value 
 is worth a little more than two beers on the dollar/ I 
 says j and I m never coming back. Then she gave 
 me a smile a smile!" said Clarence, hotly. " Oh, 
 is that where you re going! says she. Well, good 
 night, Mr. O Shay/ says she; and I m sorry you 
 have so far to go. " 
 
 O Shay stuck his pipe in his mouth and produced a 
 succession of clouds. Lannigan screened his face 
 with a hand that seemed to be scratching his temple. 
 
 " If that s what your system comes to," said Clar 
 ence, " you can have my stock in it." 
 
 "Never mind the system," said Lannigan; "the 
 trouble was you. For you fell in love. And the devil 
 himself, when in love with a woman, has nothing to 
 
218 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 do but to throw up his hands and sink ; for then it 
 is she that has worked the system on you." 
 
 THE next morning, when the dawn was changing 
 colors on the Sierra in the Lower San Joaquin valley, 
 the train with the extra sleepers at the rear stopped 
 at a water-tank, where the train-crew assembled at a 
 smoking axle of the tender. For several miles around 
 there was no habitation. A maiden of heroic size, 
 who kept brushing waves of fawn-colored hair from 
 her forehead, galloped up astride of a pony, and 
 walked him along the side of the cars away from the 
 tank. But there were no fine ladies framed in the 
 windows of the vestibuled platforms. She halted by 
 the last car, where there was the least chance of a 
 too-familiar word from a brakeman; and she sat 
 musing, broad and straight in the saddle, with one 
 bare forearm hiding in feminine roundness the ripple 
 of muscles as hard as a man s. 
 
 "You re the finest girl I ever seen from here to 
 Yokohama," said a Gaelic voice. 
 
 She stared at a small, broad sailor, whose little blue 
 eyes glanced past her face. 
 
 "And your beauty ; s gone to me heart like brandy 
 and peaches," he complained, shifting his glance to 
 beyond her other side. He wore strange, flaring 
 trousers, such as she had never seen before, and since 
 it was going to be hot, he was in his gray undershirt, 
 through which showed the dents and knots of very 
 masculine arms and shoulders. The water of the 
 morning wash glistened in his cropped hair. 
 
 "And me a lonely man, and trustful as a child," 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIKLS 219 
 
 he said bitterly ; " and longing for a happy home, 
 with a wax canary-bird in the parlor." 
 
 He talked not glibly, but with a diffidence which 
 proved that these were his first words of the kind to 
 a woman. He stooped to the road-bed, and made 
 long choice of a stone, which he balanced on the rail. 
 
 " It s cruel hard to be doubted," he muttered, with 
 a hostile look at the pony. The solitary stone was 
 eloquent to a heart of so much softer substance. The 
 girl s mouth closed in a faint smile. 
 
 " Was you watching me all the time from the car- 
 window ? " she said. 
 
 " Of course I was," said Clarence, resentfully. 
 
 She, then, was not the only one to dream of a 
 happy home. She gazed while he balanced another 
 stone beside the first. 
 
 " I don t reckon you d like living up our way," she 
 said, pulling the mane of the pony, which cocked its 
 ears at the hiss of the loosened air-brakes. "It s 
 twenty miles from us to a store." 
 
 "All right," said Clarence, turning quickly to his 
 car; "if me reputation is that shrunk with you, I 11 
 take it back on the train. But I like this place 
 that s all." 
 
 " I did n t say I did n t believe you not yet," said 
 the girl. The brakes were set again, and Clarence 
 let go of the hand-rail. " I was only saying that if you 
 should live up there in the hills, why, you d get lonely," 
 she finished, in feminine language. 
 
 " What, lonely with you ! " said Clarence to the 
 pony. " It s passing the rest of me days with you 
 or I 11 drownd meself in drink." He sat down on 
 
220 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 the car-step, and saw that the girl s eyes were turned 
 away and her color had come. As it subsided rather 
 quickly, and she was about to speak, Clarence said 
 sensitively : 
 
 " Me name s Dennis Fogarty j and he never told a 
 lie in his life." 
 
 "I was n t thinking that," said the girl, guiltily. 
 "I reckon it s only mean folks that suspect every- 
 body else. I was thinking what a long time you must 
 have been looking me over, in that car." She turned 
 away. The smile on her face ended in a rich giggle. 
 " You ain t very big, are you ? " she said. 
 
 " When you get all the bad out of a man," said the 
 Fogarty, " he ain t ever much bigger than me. Look 
 at Napoleon." 
 
 " I hope it ain t that way with a girl," she said. 
 
 " Sure not," said Clarence, casting back along the 
 rails as if through an empty past. " There ain t any 
 bad in a girl, to begin with. I never seen one big 
 enough to suit me till this morning before sunrise; 
 but it don t do much good to say so." 
 
 He might have caught the answer of a swift glance 
 and a smile. There was a freshness about the morn 
 ing such as comes in few parts of the world. There 
 was a vigor in the air that challenged the heart to 
 bounding. The girl s feet swung in her stirrups while 
 she searched in her pocket-book. 
 
 " That 7 s my name," she said, with some embarrass 
 ment, handing down her card. It was a thin, trans 
 parent piece of blue celluloid, on which was gilded, 
 " Miss Missouri Pike." 
 
 " The finest name I ever seen from here to Yoko- 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIELS 221 
 
 hama," said the pupil of Lannigan, with rising con 
 fidence, returning the card. 
 
 "And you like this place so much that you just 
 want to stay here and let the train go on without 
 you ? " said Missouri, with a frowning smile. 
 
 Would me words mean anything else?" said 
 Clarence, with no heed to the truth he spoke. 
 
 " Can you ride a horse, Mr. Fogarty ? " said the girl, 
 promptly, with busy imagination. 
 
 " Ask any one," said Clarence, hoping that some of 
 his critics within the car had wakened and heard him. 
 " I can ride him upside down, if ye like, like a fly on 
 his belly. I mind once I was chased down a precipice 
 by some wild Injuns" 
 
 She had dismounted. A large hand proffered him 
 the bridle, and while he wondered at the sudden 
 smallness of the pony, a figure loomed above him 
 which said : 
 
 " You ride, and I 11 walk." 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Clarence, his face thrown frankly 
 back ; " but, you see, then I d be missing my train." 
 
 Her transformation made him start. 
 
 "You ain t honest ! " she said, so close that the ris 
 ing sun was dark. " You don t mean what you said ; 
 and you was trying to make a fool of me, you little 
 dwarf ! " 
 
 "What, me Mr. Fogarty?" said Clarence, not 
 without anxiety. " It was only I wanted me kit from 
 the baggage-car ; and you talk to me like that ! " 
 
 "Well, I thought you was taking me out for a 
 walk," said Missouri; "and that s what I would n t 
 stand." 
 
222 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 "Of course not," said Clarence. "Who M blame 
 you ? " 
 
 "If any one tried false pretenses with, me, I 
 would n t need any brother," she said. 
 
 " No ; you send him to me," said Clarence. " I 11 
 part his hair for him." 
 
 "There would n t be enough left," said the girl, 
 darkly. Then she caught herself, and was sorry, and 
 turned it off in playfulness. "Well, 7 f you ain t 
 afraid of him, you ride the pony up to the baggage- 
 car ; for they 11 be going soon." 
 
 To Clarence this suggested a neat and safe way by 
 which their interview could be ended. He climbed 
 up, and sat with the stirrups dangling below his toes. 
 
 "You 11 need the stirrups if the engine blows off," 
 said Missouri. " After me on his back, he might for 
 get you was there." 
 
 "Have no anxiety," said Clarence. "He 11 think 
 he s a stuffed ostrich if he gets gay with Fogarty. 
 Walk along, me boy ! " 
 
 Missouri moved away for a better view. O Shay 
 arranged himself after the manner of some equestrian 
 statues. He wished for his cap and blouse, and that 
 some one could admire him from the sleepers. 
 " T was the system done it," he chuckled, a hand on 
 his knee and another on his hip. "And me not turn 
 ing a hair ! " 
 
 "Is that one of those blue-jackets?" said the en 
 gineer. He thrilled the far hills with a warning from 
 the siren. "No," said the fireman; "it s some one 
 who thinks he can break in a colt." 
 
 The Fogarty had crumpled in the middle. A 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 223 
 
 gasping, impossible scarlet sun went pounding on 
 . he mountain-tops ; a girl called out with a locomo- 
 ive s voice; the level plain stood up and embraced 
 aim. He extracted his face from the sand and the 
 sand from his face, and eagerly ran westward. 
 
 " Where you going?" called Missouri. 
 
 " To me train," cried Clarence. 
 
 " Well, it ain t that way," she said, pointing to the 
 north 5 " and it s gone." 
 
 It was growing small, bearing away his sixty-nine 
 comrades and the lieutenant. Clarence sat down, 
 speaking half sea-talk and half sand. 
 
 " You made me miss me train," he said. 
 
 " But what did you want it so bad for?" said Mis 
 souri, gathering. 
 
 "Why, to get aboard of it. What else would I 
 want it for to play a tune on ? " said Clarence. 
 
 She drowned his voice for him by a grasp of 
 his ears. 
 
 "You was tying to me," she said between her teeth, 
 while he rose, lest his ears should leave him. " You 
 wanted to jump on that train and blow kisses at me. 
 You pick a girl of your size, you little red frog! 
 What can you say for yourself ? " 
 
 Clarence stood suspended on his tiptoes. There 
 was only one way to fly her glittering scrutiny. 
 
 " I don t know what you re telling me," he shouted, 
 with shut eyes, "for I can t hear through me nose. 
 But it was not so much the baggage, of course but 
 only I wanted to say good-by to me friends friends of 
 a lifetime," he said compassionately, now that she let 
 him down to his heels, "and they 11 never see me again." 
 
224 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 "Is that honest?" said the girl, with a painful 
 frown. " Can t you tell the truth 1 " she urged. 
 
 " What else would it be ? said the Fogarty. " Did 
 ye think I was speaking a piece ? " 
 
 "Well, I wish I did n t have such a temper," said 
 the girl, with tears in her eyes. " I want to be a lady. 
 All I come down here for is to have a look at one, 
 and see how she acts. I >d treat every one just right 
 if I could. You going to lay it up against me ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Sure not," said Clarence. " When does the next 
 train go ? " 
 
 "Why?" said the girl, with hard restraint. 
 
 " Only to send a last word to me poor old mother," 
 said Clarence, quickly. 
 
 "Of course," said Missouri. "I expected it was 
 something like that. I 11 bring down your letter 
 myself in the morning, while you re asleep. Here 
 you go ! " 
 
 She half lifted him into the saddle again. She 
 pulled the bridle over the pony s head, and started, 
 leading them toward the foot-hills. Clarence looked 
 out over the great valley. He could not see another 
 human being, nor even a fence. He was a warrior 
 without a sword. 
 
 "Say, where are we going now?" he asked. 
 
 The girl s face was illumined from a deep new fire. 
 
 " We re going to find father," she said. 
 
 A FADED house, some sheds rough-shingled, and a 
 plot of shaggy grass were three boundaries of a space 
 where trotting pigs and adolescent chicks were at 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 225 
 
 school about a dusty wagon. On the uphill side there 
 were smoky digger-pines and some tangled shrubs and 
 buckeyes j on the downhill side were broad oaks, and 
 bare brown meadows drunk dry by the sun ; and in 
 the picture s center stood Missouri s father, in blue 
 overalls and bare feet. He was making as visible as 
 he thought wise the suppression of a smile. 
 
 "Well, you did, did n t you?" he said closely, as 
 Missouri led the whitened pony and its burden out 
 from the pines to the rays of the setting sun. The 
 starved Fogarty sat like wax in the hands of Fate. 
 
 " Did what ? " said Missouri. 
 
 " Oh, what you said you d do some day/ sang her 
 father, lifting a young pig in his arms. He gave a 
 second comprehensive look at Clarence. "Ain t 
 much of it, is there ? " he said. 
 
 "Ain t much of who?" said Missouri, barring his 
 way. 
 
 Her father s little finger pointed, as if by accident, 
 at the sailor on horseback, while his thumb pointed 
 at the pig. 
 
 " Why, of this here," he said, with marked inno 
 cence. " It s a runt, so far as I can see." 
 
 The corner of the house cut off the return of his 
 tethered smile and his glance at the pony. All the 
 pigs and all the fowls had disappeared at the sight of 
 Missouri, and the pony hurried off with a loud slap 
 on his quarter. Missouri spoke cheerfully of the 
 rocking-chair on the porch and of the smell of good 
 fried ham. Clarence heard the house begin to tremble 
 with her rapid steps. He sat on a soap-box and 
 lighted his pipe, which for hours had never grown cold 
 
 15 
 
226 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 in his pocket. But the taste of it made him ill. Cau 
 tiously the pigs and chickens brought back the former 
 aspect of the place, while the shadow of the house 
 climbed up the stalks of the opposite sunflowers. At 
 length Missouri s father gravely came and pulled up 
 a chopping-block, and gave Clarence a decent chance 
 to speak. 
 
 "Well," said Pike, after a reasonable time, "of 
 course her mother left her the house j but there won t 
 be quite so much live stock, for half of that belongs 
 to me." 
 
 Clarence stared at the blank sunflowers. 
 
 "Well," said her father, stroking his goatee, "I 
 shall knock together some kind of a sentry-box to live 
 in big enough to make a casket when it >s laid on its 
 side. I will say this for her," he continued : " as to 
 work, she 11 set a pace to sink the cheeks of a China 
 man j and if you took sick, she d pull down a moun 
 tain to get you the right box of pills. But, likewise, 
 when she blows up gusty, she d as lief bat your head 
 off with a fence-rail as eat an apple ; and I don t know 
 what good it would do you to have her yelling over 
 your remains the next minute." 
 
 "Would a train stop at that water-tank to-night?" 
 said Clarence. 
 
 " Which way ? " said her father. 
 
 " Any way," said Clarence. 
 
 "You mean so as to get to a preacher, I suppose. 
 But she 11 ride you over to Hopeful Rise," said Pike, 
 pointing farther toward the wilderness. Clarence felt 
 an eye crawling down his profile, and then down over 
 his short limbs to where it lingered on an itching toe j 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 227 
 
 and a rooster stopped, with a leg poised in the air, 
 and tried one eye on Clarence, and then the other, 
 then looked inquiringly at Missouri s father. 
 
 "Well," said Pike, "even a hog can teach some 
 thing. I ve learned to look pleasant and take what 
 ever the Lord provides. And I reckon," he explained 
 to the rooster, "that s what it comes to with Mis 
 souri." 
 
 The rooster ran off, not because he was satisfied, 
 but because Missouri, with her hair new coiled, had 
 appeared at the door. Her gray divided skirts had 
 given way to a spreading print of pink and white, all 
 loudly starched. A short pink sash hung from her 
 untrammeled waist, and her skin shone brown to the 
 elbow, and white to where the biceps rose in little 
 mounds through the openwork of her sleeve. At her 
 throat was a large medallion of an old man with a 
 long beard, and a gold chain hung from her shoulders 
 to a pair of thick-lensed eye-glasses dangling at her 
 breast. There was a shyness about her. 
 
 "Well, I reckon you ve about emptied mother s 
 trunk," said her father. "What you got her gold 
 eye-glasses for?" he asked, unmindful of her mute 
 and angry protest. " They don t magnify," he added, 
 with a glance at the little man on the soap-box. 
 " What," he exclaimed, peering indoors at the supper- 
 table, " all the old silver-plated silver ! And ham and 
 eggs ! Well, if this don t bring back mother s funeral ! " 
 
 "Will you sit there?" said Missouri to Clarence, 
 with a fierce gesture. 
 
 " Napkins ! " cried her father. " Why, I don t re 
 member napkins after mother s fimeral. Well, sir," 
 
228 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 he said, seeking to pass a twinkle to Clarence s eye, 
 "if I was addicted to fits, I reckon this would bring 
 one on ! " 
 
 Clarence heard Missouri s chair kicked back against 
 the wall j and in a moment he knew that a plate was 
 extended to her father, and that a dripping carving- 
 knife was pointing toward the door. The father and 
 daughter looked at each other, and then at Clarence, 
 and then at each other. Clarence s eyes ran around 
 the edges of his plate like anxious beetles; but it 
 ended in her father s careless whistle on the porch. 
 
 By and by, when the ham was gone, and Clarence s 
 mind was traveling the long trail back to the railroad, 
 and he was able to take hope from the growing dusk, 
 Missouri began : 
 
 "I noticed on the way up that you re like me. 
 You let out what you Ve got to say ; then you don t 
 repeat it. I m going to be just as open-minded with 
 you as you was with me this morning. I ve come to 
 a conclusion. I don t think, Mr. Fogarty, that it pays 
 to go too fast on what can t be undone." 
 
 " Sure it don t," said Clarence. 
 
 "And people would save a life of trouble some 
 times," she said keenly, "if they would look before 
 they leap." 
 
 " Sure ! " said Clarence. 
 
 "Now, I don t want to make you uncomfortable, 
 Mr. Fogarty," she began gravely. 
 
 "Not a bit ! " said Clarence ; and it was pathetic to 
 her how little he knew what was coming. 
 
 "But it comes to this: I ain t going to say yet 
 whether I 11 marry you or not." 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 229 
 
 " Oh, that s all right," said Clarence. " Of course 
 it would n t be like buying a dog, would it f " 
 
 "It ain t like anything else in the world," said Mis 
 souri. "It s enough to make you shudder. It s 
 enough to make you lie awake all night. And so I m 
 going to send you off now," she said firmly, standing 
 up, "and" 
 
 " I see," said Clarence, and everything else seemed 
 to rise along with his tones. With the wagon he felt 
 that he could be safe at a telegraph-office by midnight. 
 " I suppose your father" he began. 
 
 " I m going to send you off to have a smoke with 
 him," said Missouri. "He 11 look after you. And 
 whether I 11 marry you or not I sha ii t tell you till 
 morning." 
 
 She saw in his face what made her add, with a touch 
 on his shoulder : " I know it s hard on you. Maybe 
 it is on me. But morning will come, somehow. You 
 would n t like me much if I was n t as square as you ? " 
 
 And she sighed and hurried off ; but the sigh was 
 not unhappy. Clarence s feet dragged the floor. 
 Then, with an impulse, closing the door behind him, 
 he peeped out toward the pines and the trail. But 
 there, cross-kneed on the wagon-seat, beside an empty 
 plate, her father smoked his pipe. Until they slept 
 there was nothing for Clarence to do but wait. 
 
 " Wagon belongs to me," said her father. " I can t 
 be touched up here, by law. Was you ever married 
 before? Well, it lasts a long time when you do/ he 
 said retrospectively, and not in the voice of wedding- 
 bells. "It s generally brought on by curiosity. 
 Well, sir, that dent in the shed, there, is where she 
 
230 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 threw a wagon-wheel at a peddler that tried to talk 
 her into a pair of stays." 
 
 " A lonely place like this is a good one to sleep in, 
 I suppose ? " said Clarence, pursuing his thoughts. 
 
 Her father s glance was not without suspicion. " I 
 reckon you ain t seen the bulldog," he answered. 
 "No; we don t ever feel nervous about losing the 
 horses. I sleep in the room next to you, and I 11 tie 
 the old dog under your window j so you need n t 
 worry, either." 
 
 "Sure," said Clarence, warmly, "the poor dog 
 need n t sit np all night for me. Lock him up in his 
 box and let him enjoy himself." 
 
 But after Clarence had borrowed some tobacco and 
 had smoked so long in the closed chamber that the 
 candle-end was like a beacon in a fog, and the adver 
 tising chromos floated like misty dreams against the 
 walls, and finally a snore had arisen from beyond the 
 door, he swung the window softly on its hinge and 
 looked down into the bitter face of the bulldog. The 
 pines stood np still and silent in the starlight. Clar 
 ence decided that he could leap beyond the length of 
 the dog s chain ; then to make the best of it through 
 the unknown hills. The dog sat purposefully ponder 
 ing the geometry of this proposition, while Clarence 
 tried to make a smile carry confidence through dark 
 ness, and drew himself erect upon the sill. Then 
 they both observed that Missouri had passed the 
 corner, and was pacing up and down, looking at the 
 ground. As Clarence hastened to get back, she 
 seemed to see him, and he dropped astride the sill, 
 and the do<? sniffed at a shoe that wished to be mo- 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 231 
 
 tionless yet nonchalant. Now she paced back and 
 forth in front of them, so magnified in the mountain 
 gloom that Clarence seemed shrunk to a spider. Her 
 path kept coming nearer, and the dog lay down. 
 
 " What s stopping me/ 7 she said very deeply, " is 
 whether it s right for you. You ve been all over, 
 and you 7 ve got refined by foreign travel. But I was 
 so ashamed of my size that I never even went to 
 school, though I can read well enough ; and I want 
 to say we did have napkins at the time mother died. 
 Bat if we should ever go away from here, you might 
 be ashamed of me being so big, too." 
 
 "Sure not," said Clarence. "I ve a mind to go 
 down this night and buy you a Chinee shawl," he 
 suggested. 
 
 " I don t want any presents j you 7 d get lost in the 
 dark it s twenty miles. It ain t a time when pres 
 ents can say what you feel. Though I know all your 
 friends would be better dressed than me. When I 
 see those fine ladies on the evening train sometimes, 
 with their white hands, and their hair done up like 
 fancy pie-crust, it makes me sick. They look as slick 
 as fall deer ; and I m so big and hard-handed that it 
 makes me cry." 
 
 " I M get down and give comfort to ye," said Clar 
 ence, with feeling; "but if that dog would eat me 
 leg, it might hurt your father s sleep." 
 
 "You d better stay there, then," said Missouri. 
 " I don t always feel so bad. They re slick, but they 
 don t look so they could run a mile with a pint of 
 water. And that s where I get my comfort. Some 
 times I just want to let down my hair, and take a 
 
232 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 pitchfork for a spear, and gallop and lift that pony 
 right over the train, to make em stare. And then, 
 there was never any horse made that was too ambi 
 tious for me. Did you ever hear of that girl Joan of 
 Arc ? " 
 
 "No," said Clarence ; "I never stopped off in these 
 parts before." 
 
 " Well, it was n t here ; but never mind," said Mis 
 souri. "It is n t that, anyway," she said, after a 
 pause. " It s whether it s right for you. You see, 
 I m only eighteen. I guess I m a bit coltish. I 
 don t know, but I m a little afraid it s like a doll. I 
 mean, if I wanted a doll and I found one it would n t 
 make much difference what doll it was ; I d mother 
 it just the same, just because I wanted it so bad." 
 
 "Well, did you want a doll, then?" said Clarence, 
 encouragingly, thinking of one that complained when 
 pushed in the chest. 
 
 " That s it ; maybe I do," said the girl, with diffi 
 culty. " Maybe my soul s just spilling over with want 
 of something more to care for than that dog; and 
 maybe if any man that looked clean and honest had 
 come to me and said just those things you did, at just 
 that time, why how do I know but I d take pity on 
 him just like I d found a doll ? I wish I knew ! Tell 
 me honest what you think, Mr. Fogarty." 
 
 This was too far in the back of Lannigan s book for 
 Clarence ; and he kept still, astride of his window-sill. 
 
 " Maybe we ought to say good-by," she said in a 
 lower voice. i l Maybe we ought to end it here and now. " 
 
 " Well, if you say so," said Clarence, throwing his 
 leg over the sill, " and you 11 ask away the dog." 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 233 
 
 " I don t say so," said Missouri. " I ve heard how 
 it sounds, and it don t sound true. But it all scares 
 me ; it makes me shudder like walking on a roof- 
 treelike I wanted tight hold of a hand to make me 
 feel I was right." 
 
 She put her hands behind her and leaned in lonely 
 fashion against the house. 
 
 "Like we was both wishing the same thing at the 
 same time, and could n t help what happened. I wish 
 I did n t have to think about it; the more I think, 
 the dizzier it is. I reckon some men would try not 
 to let me not to give me time," said the girl, in the 
 hands of Fate; " but I guess you re right. I I" 
 She hesitated, and then went on gravely : " There s 
 one thing, anyway, that I ought to have told you be 
 fore, because you might come across him sometime. 
 There was another man once ; and I want you to have 
 your say right now." 
 
 She turned and tried to see the effect of this, and 
 was grateful for his silent waiting. 
 
 " He was bigger than me, even," she went on. " He 
 had a black mustache and big white teeth, and he 
 talked all the time. I reckon he turned my head. I 
 want you to know that I let him kiss me. He thought 
 he stole it, but he did n t," she said firmly ; " I let him." 
 
 She paused ; but Clarence would risk no comment 
 yet. 
 
 " Then the next minute I hated him," she said, be 
 tween her teeth. "It makes me almost cry, how I 
 hated him. I knocked in some of his teeth, I guess. 
 He went away before I was up the next morning. I 
 hope he s dead somewhere." 
 
234 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 She waited a long time, with the judgment hanging 
 over her. 
 
 "You ain t going to lay that up against me?" she 
 said at last. " I ve known girls that would n t have 
 told. It was only once." 
 
 " Oh, that s all right," said Clarence, safely. 
 
 " And you 11 never speak of it ? " she asked. 
 
 " Never once," said Clarence. 
 
 Missouri sighed. 
 
 " He was n t like you," she smiled. She had come 
 nearer to him j her hand was on the sill. " No," she 
 said, with a little laugh, after a moment, her shoulder 
 grazing his ; " I guess you re bashful, after all." 
 
 Clarence gripped the sill. He imagined her hurry 
 ing him off on the pony in the dark j he saw himself, 
 by the light of dawn, at a parson s door ; he saw him 
 self standing before the Book, a vulgar frog beside a 
 robust lily. He gasped. 
 
 " You said I was the finest you ever saw," she cried, 
 holding him by the shoulder. "You said you d 
 rather be with me than any one. You can t know 
 how I was wishing and wishing for just that. It was 
 sweet oh, it was sweet, Dennis ! " 
 
 She had lifted him from the sill. She had kissed 
 him hard on his bristly jowl, and set him down on the 
 ground. Then she had fled. He heard the kitchen 
 door shut softly on the other side of the house, and 
 the key turn. He looked at Missouri s bulldog, and 
 the dog looked curiously at him for a moment. But 
 Missouri had set the symbol on this man ; the dog 
 wagged its tail. Clarence took off his shoes. He 
 put them on again in the shade of the pines, and ran 
 fast through the darkness. 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 235 
 
 WHEN the sun was rising past the mountain-tops 
 again, a calm-eyed man with a shot-gun rode over one 
 of the billows of the road where the foot-hills began 
 to flatten toward the valley. He saw a head draw 
 back into a clump of bashes, and he jogged his 
 horse to where the head greeted him with a doubtful 
 grin. 
 
 "You got business in these parts? 7 said he of the 
 shot-gun. 
 
 " I was looking for a telegraph-office/ said the head. 
 
 "Expect to find one in that poison-oak?" said the 
 other. " What are you doing there ? " 
 
 " I did n t know it was poison-oak/ said the head. 
 " It was only that some one is looking for me, I think, 
 and I did n t want to be seen. If you see any one that 
 looks like looking for me, I d be obliged if you would 
 stop em and say you never seen me." 
 
 " What s your name ? " said the other. 
 
 " Clarence O Shay," said the head. 
 
 "Have you got anything to prove it?" 
 
 " Sure," said Clarence. " Here s me name carved 
 on me knife -handle. And if you don t believe that, 
 I ve a mole on me chin and a fouled anchor tattooed 
 on me left arm." 
 
 The man of the gun-shot studied him. 
 
 " So you re wanted somewhere ? " he said. 
 
 "Well," said Clarence, scratching his chin, "that s 
 the impression I feel behind me." 
 
 "Well, I m the sheriff of this county," said the 
 other. "You get out on the road." 
 
 " What 11 1 do that for ? " said Clarence, bristling up. 
 
 " Because you d rather do it than get a shirtful of 
 buckshot," said the sheriff. 
 
1 36 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 Clarence looked into the barrel of the gun. 
 
 " They can have the law on me for what I done ? " 
 he said, with a terrible frown. 
 
 "You ought to have looked that up before you 
 started in," said the sheriff. " Step along south." 
 
 At the top of one of the billows, Clarence stopped 
 and looked at the sheriff. A girl on a pony, with her 
 back to them, had just left a trail for the road. 
 
 " T would be a very small favor if I stepped into 
 that bush till this lady has gone," said Clarence, ap- 
 pealingly. But the girl looked back ; and in a mo 
 ment, pale and set, with a rawhide quirt in her hand, 
 she halted before them, and looked never at Clarence, 
 but with heavy lids at the sheriff. 
 
 "Do you know this man, Miss Pike?" said the 
 sheriff. " Why does n t he want you to see him ? " 
 
 Missouri winced, and her white face avoided the 
 sheriff s glance. 
 
 " I guess that ain t anything to do with the sheriff," 
 she said in a low voice. 
 
 " He can t explain himself. He says there s some 
 one looking for him. There s a man wanted about 
 his size," said the sheriff, "for taking what did n t 
 belong to him." 
 
 " Did I take anything but what you gave me ? " said 
 Clarence, both sullen and perplexed. 
 
 A hot flush ran over the girl s face and left it more 
 colorless than before. 
 
 "He says his name is Clarence O Shay," said the 
 sheriff, " is that right?" 
 
 Missouri shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 iC For all I know," she said. 
 
THE LANNIGAN SYSTEM WITH GIRLS 237 
 
 " Would you mind telling me what you know about 
 him ? " insisted the sheriff. 
 
 " He got left off the train yesterday. I took him 
 home to supper. Father let him sleep in the house. 
 This morning, when I got up," she said, clearing her 
 throat, "he was gone." 
 
 " You could swear to that if you was called ? " said 
 the sheriff. 
 
 " Yes," said Missouri. 
 
 The sheriff looked from one to the other, and knitted 
 his brows. 
 
 "Well," he said, "he did n t quite answer the de 
 scription ; and I 11 take your word for his alibi. I was 
 going to say something about your being so generous 
 to a stranger like that ; but I don t guess I will, Miss 
 Pike. Good morning. There s nothing vicious about 
 him, is there!" 
 
 Missouri s voice came through curling lips. 
 
 " Vicious ! " she said. " I don t reckon there s 
 enough to him, inside or out, to make anything vicious 
 from." 
 
 But she kept pace with Clarence s rapid walk when 
 the sheriff had galloped off. Clarence left the road 
 and hurried over the dry grass. The pony trotted up 
 and stopped across his path. Clarence was sullen ; his 
 eyes were on the quirt. He was alone with her. 
 
 " You need n t think I m going to wear out a quirt 
 on you," she said. " I only wanted to remind you to 
 keep to your part of the world. If you ? re a cook in 
 some sailing-ship, as father says, you can make a liv 
 ing without seeing this valley again. I want to say 
 good-by, and thank you. I guess I know a fool when 
 
238 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 I look in the mirror now. Why did n t you lay it on 
 a little heavier? 1 d have had some kind of respect 
 for you if you had. But you would n t be talking now 
 to me it would have been father; and your luck s 
 as good as mine that you did n t. But I guess I won t 
 get mad at a sea-cook," she said, gripping the quirt, 
 with a livid tension that took away her comeliness. 
 " You go." 
 
 After she thought he was out of view he looked back 
 at her, from where a growth of mountain-laurels 
 crowned his head. The pony was nibbling at the stub 
 ble. Missouri was the one still figure in the landscape, 
 with clasped hands and an arm across her eyes. 
 
 "BUT your face is all wrecked," said Lannigan. 
 " Your eyes have the look of two lost prunes in a pud 
 ding. That 7 s no poison-oak." 
 
 " That was when I got to Stockton," said Clarence, 
 " and still the taste of them words of hers was ringing 
 in me mind. I chose out a stevedore bigger than her, 
 with his fists larger than his head. I pulled his ear 
 like rubber, and I says to him his heart was paste, and 
 no wings to his soul ; and the look of me face is what 
 he says to me." 
 
 " But it done you good," said Lannigan. " And it 
 does me good, ye little baboon ! And I hope it s done 
 her good, too," he added softly. 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 
 
 T s a terrible wise fact for the 
 women that none of em sail with 
 the guns, but a worse niisfortunate 
 plan for a sailorman that diwle a 
 woman he sees for the best two 
 thirds of his days. That s been my 
 thinking more times than this. The poetry gets clean 
 spilled out of your soul, and ye don t know what ? s 
 gone wrong: t is the want of the soft voice of a 
 woman to come along and paint the murder out of 
 your heart with a smile. 
 
 I mind once when my three years time was up on 
 the China station. I could have sailed on the U.S.S. 
 Valley Forge, with the flagship band playing " Hail, 
 Columbia," and a hundred-foot homeward-bound pen 
 nant trailing to our stern. I ought to have danced at 
 the thought of home. But I must have been fouled 
 by the weather ; for while the fleet was making trans 
 fers I goes as sullen as a dog-day, and I give out 
 that I would n t stay in a craft where the first mate 
 was a silly brother to Balaam s ass ; and I took me 
 money without waiting for me papers. 
 
 I wrapped me chop-dollars in a bandana handker 
 chief and dropped aboard of a flying junk that was 
 to make up the river for Shanghai. She carried so 
 
 16 241 
 
242 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 many coolies that you felt like the second story of a 
 Chinatown cellar ; and the only way to dodge the odor 
 of them was to go snoring off in the hot moonlight 
 for it was the middle of June and the thermometer at 
 the mark of purgatory, with the air so soggy we 
 steamed like a bag of pudding. In the middle of me 
 dreams I waked up and missed me bandana, and, 
 without much taking bearings, I fetched a clip in the 
 jaw to the nearest Chinee. When I see him strike the 
 water in a heap I knew the mistake I had made ; for 
 I had hit the one that had robbed me. The Chinee 
 was flopping helpless astern of us, but the junk would 
 not turn back; for the old skipper says that such 
 would be ag in both the tide and the Chinee religion. 
 And I see the thief sink down to the bottom sooner 
 than part with me coin. 
 
 So I was beached at Shanghai with me pockets full 
 of fists ; and I found meself twixt chores and charity, 
 whistling " Yankee Doodle," and calling meself unfit 
 to clap the cymbals in a baboon s march. I loafed 
 ag in a bale of silk, sneering at a Chinee light-draft 
 gunboat that laid by the Bund, called the Walking 
 Chinaman, though she never stirred. I says to meself 
 there was heathens aboard of her paid for not lifting 
 a hand except to their mouths and me a- wishing to 
 sell me soul for a yard of sausage ! And I give a hol 
 low laugh. 
 
 I noticed on her bridge a green-and-yeller Chinee 
 a-taking me picture with a spy-glass. By and by he 
 waggled his hand to me, inside down, which in Chinee 
 means, "Come here! 7 and then he made full tilt 
 ashore, smirking till I grinned at him back. For me 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 243 
 
 gizzard so gaped for chow that I would not throw a 
 cold eye at any one that had the look of a piece of 
 silver in his breeches. This was a classical Chinee 
 dude ; ye could have picked enough off him with a 
 gaff to pay your feed for a year. He said he was Cap 
 tain Tin Shai of the Chinee navy. 
 
 " S 7 pose you sabbee sea pidgin/ he whispers close, 
 "can catchee more dollar. Can do?" 
 
 " Can do ! " says I. I would have answered the 
 same if the job was blowing bubbles with a bagpipe. 
 
 "Allee time one day thirteen dollar, 7 says he, 
 "and chow." 
 
 "Chow?" says I, cocking me ears. Me mouth was 
 watering.; for the perfume of leeks played around him 
 like St. Elmo s fire at a masthead. So I said I would 
 first sample the chow j and he grinned, for he thought 
 he had bought me from Uncle Sam. 
 
 He had but to gurgle three words in the ear of his 
 private boy, when in five minutes we sat disputing the 
 body of a pheasant, with trimmings to tickle an 
 emperor. I jumped at it with me knife, destroying 
 as much as I could of it sitting down, then as much 
 as I could standing up, while the Chinee kept squirt 
 ing me tumbler with siphon and whisky. I was all 
 but flustered at such luck ; but the Chinee never turned 
 a hair. He set fingering his rings and soaking me in 
 through his goggles, that were framed in tortoise-shell ; 
 and I see he was shaven as clean as squash on a vine, 
 and so smug that ye would n t believe he would steal 
 the end of a rope. He seemed to be glad that I held 
 such a stowage of liquor without misspelling me 
 words, for he nodded and says I was "plenty good 
 
244 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 man n ; and when he shoved me a handful of High-Life 
 cigars I shook hands with meself beneath the table. 
 
 " What s me pidgin ? " says I, softly, for fear I should 
 wake meself from a dream. 
 
 11 Some day/ said Tin Shai, " China Empelor come 
 tellee my : i Ship makee walkee ! So fashion Portegee 
 engine-man go down-side, lightee match, makee steam, 
 makee choo-choo, chop-chop down river. Your 
 belong top-side: pullee stling, talkee sea pidgin, 
 makee swear, makee ship walkee ploper. Allee time 
 no makee smash. S pose allee time makee plenty good 
 walkee, bime-by catchee more dollar. Can do ? " 
 
 " Can do ! " says I ; and he pays me a week s wages 
 on the spot. 
 
 This craft was a bald-sided block of wood, with a 
 clump of bare poles and lines like a Japanee bath-tub. 
 Some greenhorns would have turned her bottom side 
 up, turpentining the crew till they learned the meaning 
 of work, and civilizing her out with chlorid of lime. 
 But I ve spent too long in them climates to waste 
 disinfection on manners ten thousand years old. See 
 ing that the robber that built her by contract had 
 given her fixed port lights all through, I stove a hole 
 through the glass of a room I dug out for meself, and 
 called it a day s work. Then I went into a snake-sleep 
 to cheat the heat of noon. For in these Chinee sum 
 mers the heat of your blood leaps two degrees for 
 every time ye curse. 
 
 " Ye re a high cock in the Pigtail Marine ! " says 
 I to meself, when I waked and chuckled at me job of 
 killing the Emperor s time. " If but Adam and Eve 
 was alive to see this day ! " I says, lighting me cigar 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 245 
 
 as if I had the world in chancery ; " for ye re mate 
 of the coffer-dam Walking Chinaman ! n 
 
 The Portegee engineer was named Gargonza, and 
 he was a bit short at me till he twigged how I was 
 made. Then he cracked a bottle of beer, which I 
 drank with joy and took a dislike to him ; for now and 
 then he would watch the effect of his words as bald 
 as ye scan a target. 
 
 " Me you," he said, with a wave, " of this ship there 
 is no human being but us. Then we swear the good 
 friend-eh?" 
 
 The Walking Chinaman, he says, was troubled with 
 two captains, Tin Shai and Mu Kow. Tin Shai was 
 only somebody s son ; but Mu Kow had worked up from 
 Secret Remover of Christians in a province back by 
 Tibet. At first Tin Shai was captain alone ; and a 
 Britisher had the job of adviser and drilling the crew. 
 But one day the Britisher come aboard and observes 
 Tin Shai on the knee of the sentry, being spanked 
 with his own sword for cheating at fan- tan ; and the 
 Britisher remarks that such scenes would not occur 
 in the service of the Queen. The government then 
 gives the Britisher his walking papers and took all 
 the ammunition and side-arms away from the ship ; 
 and they appointed Mu Kow as twin-captain, believing, 
 by Chinee arithmetic, that two captains would make 
 half as much trouble as one. But beyond abolishing 
 the sentry by sinking him over the stern one night, 
 and beyond selling the ship s boats and life-preservers 
 to a Scotch man-o -war, 1 the two Chinee could strike 
 no better a chord. What brought them a trifle toge- 
 1 A Clyde-built merchantman. 
 
246 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 ther was that they had just been twice summoned to 
 Pekin concerning them missing boats, and they balked, 
 afraid their ankles would be cracked with a club. 
 
 "I see you, I smell-a the mouse," says Gargonza. 
 " Why I must clean-a the white lead of four year from 
 her engine ? Why put in the coal and hire the sailor ? 
 I think-a to-morrow they run with the ship ! " 
 
 " St. Peter ! " says I to meself, wondering how I 
 would get her down river without a pilot. Gargonza 
 leaned over and tapped me shoulder. 
 
 "What good two Chinee like them captain?" he 
 whispers. "No good eh? But she would make-a 
 the beautiful South Sea trader ! Tin Shai, Mu Kow, 
 they have sent many to water the seaweed. In the 
 city we say : i There is always the room at the top/ 
 Good ! On the sea : i There is always the room at the 
 bottom ! ? Me you, we cannot remember what will 
 happen eh ? You have pistol ? n 
 
 " On your life ! " says I, with a slap on his back that 
 made him cough. He stared after me, doubtful of 
 what I had made of him which was a yellow dog. 
 
 The next one I met was the fellow Mu Kow, who 
 paid his respects with extra dry, which he made me 
 pour down on the top of me beer till I feared the 
 shifting of me cargo. 
 
 "That Tin Shai one baby," he remarks, trying 
 me first with one swivel eye and then with another. 
 " My belong number one captain. Tin Shai plenty 
 talkee, plenty silk, plenty jade one little land-pirate. 
 Some day he makee my too muchee bobbely ; then sea- 
 debil come catchee ! You my good brother. My pay 
 you one week." 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 247 
 
 I took this double wages as proper, since I was serv 
 ing two masters. But I measured his style and the 
 sear that ripped his cheek ; and I chalked him for one 
 that would stab with his left while shaking hands with 
 his right. Them two captains and the Portegee, I says 
 to meself, were half the parts for a hangman s morn 
 ing. And in case they had shipped me aboard for the 
 Walking Chinaman s live mutton, I hailed a wheelbar 
 row and trundled up-town to heel meself at a gun 
 smith s. 
 
 That evening Tin Shai and Mu Kow turned out to 
 a big mandarin, that arrived with hammering gongs, 
 with a rag-bag of coolies carrying signs, and with 
 white ponies and red umbrellas. The mandarin sat 
 in his sedan-chair, with the captains kotowing. They 
 pulled their fingers and hoped his grandmother was 
 frisky, and wished all the time they could stick a knife 
 in his ribs. The mandarin was reading them hot 
 chapters on the Chinee hereafter, as appeared, till they 
 thought they heard the rattle of chains. He wheeled 
 off blowing curses, with the gongs beating the dog-trot 
 retreat ; and Mu Kow took me aside, his eyes sprung 
 apart like an alewife s. 
 
 "Want-chee go choo-choo down river, chop-chop, 
 two clock," says he, locking arms with me. " Can 
 do?" 
 
 " Can do ! " I said, seeing a vision of our craft with 
 her nose fathom deep in the mud. Gargonza pulled 
 at me sleeve. 
 
 " Four year I wait-a for this ! " he says in me ear. 
 
 We set out to make ready, while the captains loafed 
 in their spandy clothes. They sent ashore for some 
 
248 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 Sing-Song girls, which, with the fellers that brought 
 them, all night made the cabin thick with cigarettes 
 and the stringing of a strum-strum. Tin Shai was 
 gassin and gigglin equal to the girls themselves; 
 but Mu Kow sits fanning himself in a corner, squint 
 ing at a white silk Sing-Song girl, who had a line 
 of gold poppies wandering over her that would cost 
 as much in New York as in China would buy the 
 whole girl. She was no dough-faced doll, like most 
 of em. Ye could see she had thoughts skipping about 
 in her head ; and, for a Chinee girl, she was as pretty 
 as comes. She see me at the window and marveled 
 at me clothes, and the girls all laughed and invited 
 me in. But I would n t go, for the way they shut 
 their throats and squawked their songs like pea-hens 
 cut into me ear. 
 
 The Sing-Song crowd was still aboard when I raised 
 the ladder to clear the float ; and at two o clock I took 
 the wheel, and, by word from Mu Kow, started ahead. 
 The Sing-Song outfit broke for the gang-boards ; but 
 the captains kept calling " Chop-chop ! " and I sent 
 her ahead full speed to please them. There were 
 screams and a fight going on, but I could n t leave the 
 wheel, for I saw a chance to slow up in the wake of a 
 Frenchman that was towing down-stream and would 
 show me the way. In a while Tin Shai and Mu Kow 
 come dragging between them the white silk Sing-Song 
 girl, that was crying as if she thought to be boiled j 
 and they pulled her little soft arms as though to divide 
 her, each shouting that he was the one that had held 
 her aboard and should own her now. The sight of it 
 got me straight in an ugly mood ; for it was plain to 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 249 
 
 me then they had kidnapped her, and t was as well 
 for 7 em they compromised by locking her np in the 
 pilot-house and giving the key to me. The little thing 
 stood mourning at the window, like a white silk spook 
 in the moonlight ; and I begun to sour a bit on me job, 
 saying that Chinee ought to keep with Chinee, and 
 men with men. But the job would end soon enough, 
 I thought; for we had no running lights and our 
 whistle had been sold for junk, and we had not a scrap 
 of a chart. I hugged the stern of the Frenchman till 
 he kept hailing and dancing on his poop ; but, by luck, 
 we made the passage down the river without fouling 
 the Frenchman nor the bottom. I unlocked the pilot 
 house and fixed a place for the girl to sit down. 
 
 We passed Woo-sung with the sun up twenty 
 degrees, and the Chinee captains were peeping an anx 
 ious eye at the line of forts. They turned so pale at 
 the sudden blast of a gun from there that I had to 
 laugh. 7 T was the fellow ashore a-firing the morning 
 salute, and he would n t believe the sun was up till it 
 showed from behind the clouds. The Yang-tze 
 stretched before us, bigger than the Mississippi and 
 twice as dirty, with its low shores lying blank for 
 miles. Now I saw the white bodies of the American 
 fleet, as smooth as swans, with their bright work daz 
 zling in the sun, and Old Glory swung out bright to 
 the breeze the handsomest that floats. I saw their 
 guns laid aft, as trim as feathers on a gull ; and when 
 I looked down on the bath-tub I was cruising in, and 
 on her little old Armstrongs aiming at all points of 
 the card and rusting red in ten different ranges, I 
 swore at meself for shame of me Chinee job. When 
 
250 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 I tried to dip my dragon flag I found it was nailed to 
 the mast, so that the watch on the Heron was howling 
 in glee, and I run up and threw down the rag in strips, 
 while the Chinee captains smoked their pipes and dis 
 cussed me gumption. 
 
 " Git on to the Chinee without a pigtail and his 
 wife in the glass case ! " yells Peter Bynes, louder than 
 the regulations, from the deck of the Valley Forge. 
 
 We left the fleet hull down up river, and the heat 
 closed in on us more and more, like the walls of a 
 steam-chest, till noon brought Gargonza up from the 
 engines as pale as a pineapple. I tripped the anchor 
 and fell into a hot doze, with a little white Chinee girl 
 fading before me framed in a window. 
 
 And I was but pounding me ear comfortable when 
 I had to rush up to see what was causing the racket 
 on deck. I met the crew all scattering for cover ; and 
 here was Tin Shai and Mu Kow rampaging with drawn 
 revolvers. Tin Shai had a-hold of the Sing-Song girl, 
 hiding behind her and too scared to remember his own 
 weapon, while Mu Kow was dashing in circles, trying 
 to drop him without hurting the girl. She was 
 screaming in hysterics, and such an uncanny sight as 
 this wall-eyed rascal raging for murder I never see 
 outside of a waxworks. When they heard me they 
 backed away, and the Sing-Song made a plunge for 
 below, never stopping till she discovered my room and 
 hid under my bunk, gold poppies and all. The next 
 second the captains were talking polite as potato-bugs, 
 and they smiled and said they had given the girl to 
 me, for which I did n t say thanks. But I went down 
 and hauled her out by the nape of the neck, all trem- 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 251 
 
 bling and jingling with bracelets ; and then I stroked 
 her till I had her tamed. She was a fresh little piece, 
 cleaner for having cried off the red lead and rice- 
 powder. After she had stared a long time at me she 
 seemed to give me a pretty high mark, for she sud 
 denly turned to and squared up me bunk so well that 
 I could n t stay out of it. Gargonza found her on 
 guard at me door while I tackled me nap again. He 
 wanted to get gay with her ; but she hissed like a she 
 kitten, and I give him a laugh. I asked him where in 
 the Pea-Soup Sea this cruise was laid to, and he says 
 we had come to collect the junk tax at the mouth of 
 the Yang-tze-kiang. 
 
 When I waked, the Sing-Song was doing her hair in 
 front of me glass in a black braid as thick as a haw 
 ser. And the jade and gold pins and ruby rosettes she 
 had on the table would have put shame to a pawnshop. 
 I hunted up a brush for her, and from that time on 
 she followed me round like a pet doe, grabbing me 
 sleeve if any one looked at her twice ; and she would 
 pick all the threads off me coat, and would rub me 
 boots with a rag till I felt uneasy most of the time. 
 The captains were worrying to be under way, and the 
 crew were watching down river, gesticulating when 
 ever they saw a junk. A big fellow bound in from 
 Formosa, with forty in the crew, tacked by under our 
 nose, and I could n t see why, if we were tax-collecting, 
 we let this one go. I took the wheel and we made 
 toward the mouth, me expecting each moment to end 
 the cruise with scarring the river-bed, for the Yang-tze 
 kiang is a big drain that does n t remember its way 
 overnight. As we made the delta a mirage of an 
 
252 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 island just above water so far from the shores of the 
 stream that you needed a glass we sighted a middle- 
 sized junk. By direction I kept the lubber s line dead 
 on her and as she would n t pretend to hear when 
 Mu Kow passed her word to lay to, I went ahead and 
 lanced her in the wing with me bowsprit. 
 
 The people of the junk no sooner saw Mu Kow 
 boarding him with two pistols and a swarm of coolies 
 than they crowded into a sampan and sculled for their 
 lives. They left an old woman dealing out rice in the 
 galley over the stern j and she must have been deaf, 
 for she did n t notice. The next minute I see Mu Kow 
 catch her by the foot and trip her overboard, with an 
 iron pot tight in her hand. She went to the bottom 
 like lead, with a look of astonishment on her face ; 
 but she never let go of the iron pot. I gasped. The 
 Sing-Song clutched me and begun to cry. 
 
 " Collect-a the tax ! " grins Gargonza. " See the 
 many case of the. opium ! Say, our share will be 
 large. But better the South Sea, eh ? " 
 
 I give him a shove. 
 
 " Ye murdering son of a vampire ! " I yelled to Mu 
 Kow. " The next one ye heave over, ye 11 keep his 
 company ! " 
 
 I come down from the bridge and went to me room 
 to hide me rage. So I was piloting a pirate craft, 
 was I? The Sing-Song shuddered so that I thought 
 she would shake out her teeth. So I shut me mouth 
 and took to calming her, with her tears all mixed with 
 her Chinee language. Pretty soon she dried her eyes 
 and curled up alongside of me, and then we held a long 
 palaver, each of us telling what we ought to do, and 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 253 
 
 neither one understanding the other. She touched 
 the revolver in me pocket and motioned at the door ; 
 I nodded and said to meself I needed small provoca 
 tion. I would leave at the first opportunity, getting 
 the girl to some safe place ; and I would plant com 
 mas in the Chinaman that blocked me. The crew was 
 working fast at the loot in the junk, and Gargonza was 
 passing us with little packages. They were piling like 
 ones outside me room, and at dusk Tin Shai looked 
 in as far as his nose to explain. 
 
 " That belong your share," says he, pointing, and 
 trying to seem like a matter of course. 
 
 " Ye heathen peacock ! " I yelled, bowling the bot 
 tom of a chair at him. 
 
 He disappeared like a bubble ; and then I see the 
 junk float by the side, filling with water. I took a 
 look at the river. It was ebbing rapidly, but we were 
 stock-still. We had drifted aimless ever since I left 
 the bridge, and the sun had gone down, leaving us 
 bosomed on a shoal. 
 
 I see no sign of the two captains ; but they never 
 sent better chow than that night. The Sing-Song 
 would sit on a stool behind me, no matter what I said ; 
 for she could n t handle the Pidgin lingo ; and she 
 would smile and then whimper when I scolded her 
 stupidity. Ravenous though she was, she would wait, 
 Chinee fashion, till I pushed her each mouthful ; and 
 she patted me sleeve and did n t want me to get angry. 
 I says to meself there was many a brunette at home 
 that would give the tip of her tongue for the color of 
 such eyes. Then she blinked and fell asleep, crumpled 
 on the floor with her head against me knee. Along 
 
254 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 come Gargonza, feeling the first prop of his liquor, and 
 he sent a leer at the little heap that gave fidgets to 
 the toe of me boot. 
 
 " Ah, what for do we linger? 77 says he to me, point 
 ing out of the door. " The beautiful plum hang ripe 
 on the bough, and the South Sea call like the music ! 
 Say, there are many wives down there their eyes do 
 not slide like these. Tin Shai, Mu Kow, they will 
 take-a the cold bath eh? The ship will turn blue; 
 her name will be La PalomaihQ dove, the fat dove. 
 The crew is raw yes; but me you, we can boil-a 
 them eh ? This is the plain Pidgin I always speak-a 
 the honest I am very brave ; but I cannot tell-a the 
 lie. What will you do ? " 
 
 I looked in the ball of his eye. 
 
 " Ye can take your dirty tricks, 77 says I, " and go to 
 a hot hereafter. 77 
 
 " By God, 7 says he, scarlet as a bull-rag, " not like-a 
 the you will me interfere ! I wait-a four year to be 
 stop by the sailor that make-a the skulk from his ship ? 
 Huh ! I perform my own hook. I make-a the captain 
 you make-a the sea-cook ! 77 
 
 I inspected him close, and I saw he was two parts 
 bluff and one part water, and had rings in his ears. 
 
 " How 7 11 ye get her out of the mud ? 77 says I. 
 
 He went up to see what I meant. When he returned 
 he wanted me to drink with him, saying we gentlemen 
 should not lose our tempers ; and how could I leave 
 the ship, without a small boat, or even a hen-coop ? 
 There was n 7 t a stick to float a dog. 
 
 " But never again the beautiful chance ! 77 he whines, 
 beginning to drift in his cups. "Listen! They 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 255 
 
 smoke-a the opium. Tin Shai, Mu Kow, they buy-a 
 the share of the coolie for silver eh ? Now the cap 
 tain deal-a the fan-tan they win all the silver back to 
 themself ! Santa Maria ! " says he ; " they are wise, 
 but they are not brave. And you you have not the 
 ambition." 
 
 The smoke rose out of the hold, and the coppery 
 clink of cash. I stared through me port at the rising 
 moon, perplexing about to-morrow j and a notion of 
 something ill-fated come clouding around; but I 
 could n t see why. I took the Sing-Song, and we made 
 a tour of the deepest parts, now all forsaken except 
 the main hold, where the fan-tan game was on. Never 
 a plank had been started by our pressure on the shoal ; 
 for all the water I found was mossy bilge. The Sing- 
 Song took cue of all me moves, doing an imitation of 
 me. She poked in the piles of dunnage faster than 
 meself ; and she struck three battered life-buoys, which 
 on general principles we took to me room and made 
 good with seizings of rope-yarn. The ship s compart 
 ments hurt your nose worse than the alleys of old 
 Shanghai, and the air of the berth-deck seemed like 
 heaven again. I was put to it to pass the time j for 
 I looked ahead to no sleep on a pirate ship. I com 
 menced to sing, trying to teach the girl the tune of 
 
 Me pigtail is two inches long ! 
 
 which was a favorite aboard the Valley Forge. But 
 the girl could no more keep a tune than walk a tight 
 rope, though she strove till she brought the tears. 
 "Ye re a daisy," says I, "but ye can t throw your 
 voice." I paced in the moonlight, calculating on the 
 
256 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 tide. We had struck at around six in the evening, 
 leaving some three hours of the ebb. At three or four 
 hours of the flood we might hope to drift off, and per 
 haps we would fall in with some honest craft. Now 
 there was nothing in sight but a dim lighthouse, and 
 t was that silent that somehow it give me a touch of 
 the nerves. The Sing-Song pulled out a rubber ball 
 and went bouncing it on deck, pirouetting on her heels 
 between the bounces. I laughed at her little brown 
 legs, and she begun doing funny. She give a repro 
 duction of a Shanghai rooster that would have killed 
 the reputation of me friend Jimmy Snort. It brought 
 up Gargonza, loaded to the guards. 
 
 " Sh ! " says he, pointing down the main hatch. 
 " One by one they will sleep on their pipe. Three 
 o clock I am full control ! Sh ! Let not the bat out 
 of the keg, eh ?" 
 
 I blew me cigar in his face, with the Sing-Song 
 peering at him from under me elbow. I wandered 
 back and set in me chair, lighting cigar after cigar to 
 keep me awake. The Sing-Song showed me her rings. 
 There was a diamond set in jade, which she would n t 
 let move from its finger, however I urged her. When 
 I pulled it a bit to see what she would do, she started 
 to blubber. She made signs which I understood that 
 some devil would get her if she once let it slide from 
 her hand. So I put them all back, and she went 
 purring and drowsing near by, with a big blotch of 
 oil on her sleeve. I set playing with the end of her 
 braid, and heard nothing but the clink of coin, which 
 seemed further and further away. 
 
 I must have dozed off with a Manila smoking in me 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 257 
 
 teeth, for I come to by and by with a start. The 
 candle was burnt to a naked bit of wick, and nickering 
 in its death-struggle. The moon was shining bright 
 aslant through me port, and the Sing-Song flat in her 
 slumbers. I heard a lapping of waves, as if a wind 
 had sprung up ; and behind me a dropping of water : 
 spot, spot, spot ! It was water leaking through the hole 
 I had smashed in me port glass, and falling from the 
 sill to a puddle in me bunk. When I jumped up me 
 eye fell on a dead level with the Yang-tze River. 
 
 " She 7 s sinking," says I. 
 
 She was six feet deeper in the water than her dan 
 ger-line, and the spot, spot! coming faster. There 
 were seventy of us aboard the Walking Chinaman, and 
 three life-buoys. I took off me shoes, then scanned 
 fore and aft from me door. There was no sign and 
 no sound. The lamps burnt even in a mist of stale 
 smoke from opium, and the deck was dry as a bone. 
 With a moldy blanket I stopped the hole in the port ; 
 then I pressed a hand on the Sing-Song s forehead till 
 she waked natural and caught me commands. We 
 crept into the passageway, with her silk sleeves seem 
 ing to sing against her sides as loud as steam. The 
 spar-deck was like a churchyard, all blue moonlight 
 and black shadows; and there was a fretting of the 
 breeze in fits and starts, no one way twice. I reckoned 
 it about twenty-four hours since we had cast off at 
 Shanghai, and now the tide was within an hour of 
 high j but we had not budged an inch off the shoal. 
 And what bamboozled me complete was to see a lan 
 tern down in the engine-room, burning in the crank 
 shaft well. The ship laid as trim as if in dock, and 
 
 17 
 
258 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 she was sinking without a drop of water in her. 
 Already the port of me room was hidden below the 
 surface. 
 
 I let down the lead. First it showed by the mark 
 two fathoms; then, slow but taut, it commenced to 
 pay out more. And it would have kept on forever, 
 for I knew what was up. We had run on to one of 
 the Yang-tze quicksands such as I had heard of. We 
 had settled with the ebb till the sand had a grip like 
 an octopus and held us while the tide rose. Pretty 
 soon the water would flow over our sides and down 
 through the hatches, and then we would slump like a 
 thousand tons in a slough. 
 
 The Sing-Song kept pulling and pointing at the 
 water, which was gurgling through the scuppers and 
 backing up fore and aft in the gutters. She turned 
 pale ; but she remembered and did n t say anything, 
 and I liked her for that. I says to meself, there was 
 no knowing what might part us two in the next few 
 hours : so, despite her objections, I made her stow half 
 the money I had, to stead her if she got ashore with 
 out me ; and she tried to make me take some rings in 
 exchange. Then I strung the revolvers around me 
 neck. There was no stir from the crew but a damp 
 stench of opium and Chinamen rose out of the hold, 
 and a glimmer along the floor showed pairs of sleep 
 ing legs. The water was high on our ankles and, 
 dribbling now down the hatch ; and a coolie got up 
 and slipped in the wet, and voices began asking ques 
 tions. Then we ran for the bow with our life-buoys. 
 I grabbed the girl and jumped into the sea ; she took 
 a sharp breath, but stayed game, and I rigged her into 
 
A YARN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 259 
 
 a buoy before she knew it, and we floated in safety. 
 The buoys were lashed in a triangle abreast of the ship, 
 and I held to a line from the anchor-davits. I would 
 not cast adrift in this sea of mud till I must ; and the 
 extra buoy might save two or three of the rascals be 
 low, but which ones I had n t yet thought to decide. 
 
 There come a yell, and a coolie pounded up the lad 
 der, and dashed forward maudlin with fear, and ham 
 mered at the cabin doors. He must have expected 
 the captains to bale out the hold with their hats, for 
 the water had leaped clear of the hatch-coaming and 
 was roaring down in a deluge. It raised a steam of 
 shrieks as though it had struck hot iron ; and it ought 
 to have given a turn to those that laid in a stupor 
 below, thinking that drowning was part of an opium 
 dream. You could hear the perpendicular iron ladder 
 rattle with feet, though the moon still shone on a life 
 less deck ; for the coolie that first appeared had dove 
 beneath the galley stove as the only dry place in the 
 world. Then they begun galloping up from the hold, 
 howling, with their faces purple in the light one, two, 
 then twenty in a string, hauling themselves over the 
 pouring brim like devil-fish. They saw it had n t done 
 any good to get up there. They saw it half spent with 
 the struggle it cost, and they all went raving crazy. 
 
 I never hear such yells since the steam-pipe burst 
 on the old S wanee ; and yet when I looked off over the 
 deserted waters, and see no ship and no light and no 
 land, nothing but the river glistening in the silent 
 moon for miles and miles, the nose seemed but tri 
 fling small. A score of them were fighting like fiends 
 for a salt-box that would n t float one. A horde of 
 
260 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 them screamed and scratched on the deck below like 
 the bilge-rats that scurried among their feet. I heard 
 a voice call : " Wake-a me ! Santa Maria, I cannot 
 dream-a no more ! " and the rest in another lingo. I 
 shouted back, but I don t know what. The Sing-Song 
 pointed to Tin Shai running up the main ratlines, 
 chased by two of his personal staff. He clung to the 
 top, with a foot on the fore-and-aft stay ; and when 
 the other two grappled to see which should pass the 
 part where the ratlines narrow to nothing, Tin Shai 
 kicked one of his servants into the air. The other one 
 bawled out in joy, and suddenly looked in the muzzle 
 of Tin Shai s revolver. He turned to back down ; but 
 the water was rising beneath him, and he stopped and 
 looked up again into the barrel, and saw a flash. Then 
 his head lolled to one side and his fingers loosened, and 
 he scraped down along the shrouds like an empty shirt. 
 " Wake-a me ! " yells the voice from below, wandering 
 far astern. We see Mu Kow at the spider-band of the 
 foremast, sawing away at the rotten ropes. The mob 
 beneath him had pulled the salt-box to bits, and now 
 they all swarmed after him over the shrouds. They 
 climbed by the ratlines and they climbed on each other, 
 snarling and tearing, while Mu Kow sawed. Half-way 
 to the top, and the shrouds give way to his knife ; and 
 they fell in a howling heap on the iron winch, that was 
 covered with three feet of water. A few of them 
 flopped for a moment like stranded fish, but the river 
 quenched their groans. The stillness came down like 
 the firing of a siege-gun. All that the Sing-Song and 
 me could see of the Walking Chinaman was Tin Shai 
 and Mu Kow, treed like cougars, at the tops of two 
 masts that shone a short way out of the water. 
 
A YAEN OF THE PEA-SOUP SEA 261 
 
 The two blackguards clung cursing across at each 
 other with revolvers in their hands. My line had 
 pulled till it brought me floating midway off from the 
 sinking spars. Either one of the two that saw me 
 starting to save the other was ready now to shoot at 
 us all j and their two foul lives were not worth chances 
 to me. But I could not cast off and leave them, as the 
 Sing-Song would have me do. I leveled me revolver and 
 called them to throw down theirs ; but neither would 
 stir till the other did first. And we waited in a dead 
 lock, with the tide at their waists and the end approach 
 ing, when there would be nothing left of the mastheads 
 and they could n t shin up further. My arms grew so 
 fagged and shaking that I should n t have hit a whale 
 and the sweat rolled off their brows like rain. They 
 rested their chins on the trucks, scowling with gaping 
 mouths, as if they were pinned to the spars by swords 
 through their bowels. And the Sing-Song took to 
 deriding them. 
 
 " JJoo-uh-chaah ! Koo-nh-ch&ah ! " she sang at them, 
 or sounds like that. 
 
 Then she screamed at the sound of their guns, and 
 they were firing so fast I could n t see. In the midst 
 of it Tin Shai gave a howl and bit a piece out of the 
 truck, with a trickle of red on his neck. His revolver 
 exploded as his head sunk from sight. I felt a sharp 
 cut in me head and the blood rushing up from me toes. 
 Mu Kow reached out his empty hands in prayer. 
 
 " Can do ? Can do ? " he cries to us. 
 
 But the moon went dancing so that I was paralyzed ; 
 and the Sing-Song jerked the bowline from under me 
 arm. We floated away in the current, and I lurched 
 and buried me guns to the breech. When I rolled 
 
262 UNDER THE JACK-STAFF 
 
 back again I thought I saw Mu Kow s head chasing 
 on top of the water to swallow us j but it was the moon 
 turned black. 
 
 She kept yanking me face out of the water, and talk 
 ing with her lips to me ear. Everything was gray as 
 clay, except a red stain on the sky-line. I blew out a 
 throatful of the dirty stream. " Wake me ! " says I, 
 with me neck feeling the size of a finger. Then the 
 sun was beating down on me brain, and she all the 
 time sprinkling me and fussing with something that 
 bound me head. She dug her nails in me jowl and made 
 me look up river. I saw a swift white swan, with a 
 yellow bill and a hundred-foot bonnet-string trailing 
 aslant of her ; and me head toppled over on something 
 heaving and soft. " Daisy," says I, " but can t throw 
 her voice ! " Then I heard eight strokes of a silvery 
 bell, and the shrill of a boatswain s whistle. Some 
 body holds me up to the bowl of a United States spoon. 
 It was Jimmy Snort, the apothecary s boy. 
 
 " Why," says he, " we put the little Sing-Song aboard 
 of the North Dutch Mail about three hours ago. The 
 cursed little spitfire scratched me face, and had to be 
 taken from ye by force." 
 
 I felt in me pocket. Every dollar I had given hei 
 was back in its place ; and on me finger was the jade 
 diamond ring. 
 
 " How 7 s your morals ? " grins Jimmy Snort. 
 
 " No worse ! n says I, lifting off the scruff of his 
 neck. "And me respect for the kind of sex which 
 you ain t," I says,. " has risen to par, from the end of 
 the land to the end of the sea." 
 
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