fkmcker bo cker
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 T was a well-aimed broadside, and brought 
 our maintop to the deck." 
 
 (See page 211.)
 
 Will o' The Wasp 
 
 A Sea Yarn of the 
 War of ' 12 
 
 Edited by Henry Lawrence, U.S.N., 
 
 and now brought before the public 
 
 for the first time 
 
 BY 
 
 Robert Cameron Rogers 
 
 PUBLISHED, 1896, IN NEW YORK AND LONDON, 
 BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1896 
 BY G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 
 "Che Knickerbocker press, Ita? ttocbdle, fU fi.
 
 PS 
 
 3535 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP, ; PAGB. 
 
 WASP WILLY : A PROLOGUE . . i 
 
 I. How I SIGNED WITH CAPTAIN BLAKELY . 15 
 
 II. How WE BORE AWAY TO THE CHOPS OF 
 
 THE BRITISH CHANNEL ... 35 
 
 III. How WE TOOK THE " REINDEER" BRIG-O'- 
 
 WAR . . . . . 67 
 
 IV. THE WAYS OF NANCY BARKER . . 91 
 
 V. How NANCY BARKER SHIPPED ABOARD THE 
 
 "WASP" 115 
 
 VI. How WE TEASED THE "ARMADA" AND 
 
 SUNK THE " AVON " .... 137 
 
 VII. How THE WARD-ROOM DRANK TO NANCY 
 
 BARKER 171 
 
 VIII. How JIM DOWNS TOOK FRENCH LEAVE . 186 
 
 IX. How JOSH SEWALL WENT TO SARAH . 198 
 
 X. How I SAW THE LAST OF THE " WASP " . 209 
 
 XI. How I CAME, ON PAROLE, TO PLYMOUTH 
 
 TOWN 225 
 
 XII. How I FOUND NANCY AND DROPPED 
 
 ANCHOR . . . . . 250
 
 "There is a rumor that an English frigate went into 
 Cadiz much crippled, and with a very severe loss in men, 
 about this time, and that she reported her injuries to 
 have been received in an engagement with a heavy 
 American corvette the latter disappearing so suddenly in 
 the night that it was thought she had sunk." 
 
 COOPER'S Naval History 
 (Respecting the fate of the Wasp}.
 
 WILL O' THE WASP. 
 
 Wasp Willy. 
 
 A PROLOGUE. 
 
 T WAS second officer aboard the U. S. 
 sloop-of-war Dahcotah, in the year 1866. 
 We were attached to the North Atlantic 
 squadron, and in June of the year, one after 
 noon in the early part of the month, lay to 
 for a few hours off the little North Devon 
 town of Clovelly. I had obtained permis 
 sion to go ashore, spend a few days, and 
 rejoin at Plymouth, and it was with keen 
 pleasure that I donned " cits " and took my 
 place in the cutter. 
 
 Our flag hung from the spanker gaff, and 
 as it flew straight north in the wind, I never 
 saw it look more beautiful. It may be I
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 felt more than common pleasure in the 
 bunting at that time, for it had just weath 
 ered one of the fiercest wars of the century, 
 and was now flying in the breeze of a land 
 which, despite all ties of blood, had been 
 little better than an enemy. 
 
 It was with surprise then, that, attracted 
 by an exclamation of the coxswain, I fol 
 lowed the direction of his gaze and saw a 
 singular sight. 
 
 On the landing stage towards which our 
 boat was headed, stood an old man, gaunt 
 and tall, clad in rough blue serge ; upon his 
 head a sailor's cap that might have graced 
 the brow of some seaman of Decatur's time. 
 His white beard fell like a frill from his 
 pointed chin and spread almost from one 
 ear to the other. Over his right shoulder, 
 and this was what had stirred the coxswain's 
 wonder, he carried a flag, faded and minus 
 many stars in its blue field, but still the grid 
 iron. He was surrounded by a rabble of 
 half-grown lads, some laughing at him, some 
 jeering. At his elbow stood a grave and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 stalwart middle-aged woman. The old man, 
 whose eyes were fixed upon us as we neared 
 the landing, paid no heed to his tormentors, 
 but now and again the woman, making a 
 little run, would fetch some lout of a boy a 
 sounding cuff upon the ear, at which the 
 yells of laughter would be tempered with 
 rage. As I stepped from the boat, the 
 strange old figure, paying no deference to 
 me I was in civilian's garb, pushed by 
 and hailed the coxswain. 
 
 " God be praised ! " he shouted, bringing 
 his flag to an order with a wild flourish, 
 " you 're the first Yankee man-o'-war's-men 
 I Ve seen in twnty year. What 's the 
 news, what 's the news, mates? I 'm 
 William Fry, seaman, of the United States 
 sloop Wasp on parole. What 's the news, 
 bullies ? Did n't we sink that steam pirate, 
 hay? I can't hear ye I 'm gettin' old." 
 
 The men, laughing, looked towards me as 
 the one to do the talking, and the coxswain 
 called : 
 
 " There 's the lieutenant, mate, ask him."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 The old sea-dog turned at once to me and 
 pulled at a wisp of hair that still represented 
 his forelock. 
 
 " I ask yer pardin, sir," he said, " I did n't 
 know you in the shore togs I 'm William 
 Fry, of the sloop Wasp, Captain Blakely, 
 sir on parole. Ask your pardin, sir, for 
 letting my jaw tackle run, but I haint seen 
 the gridiron, only this 'ere one I got, thirty 
 year ago, till now, nor a boat crew of Yankee 
 man-o'-war's-men in the Lord knows when. 
 Wasp, sir, Cap'n Blakely, did ye know him, 
 sir? I be'n here a prisoner of war God 
 knows how long on parole now, on parole." 
 
 " Hi, Wasp Willy ! Wasp Willy ! Yankee 
 Bill wi* a crack in his crown ! " yelled the mob 
 of boys behind him. In a sudden rage the 
 old man flew about and charged the group, 
 who scattered with redoubled yells. 
 
 " There you go, you bloody young sons of 
 rock rabbits ! I 've chased yer fathers afore 
 ye, jest that way, damn yer eyes ! " He 
 came back swearing and breathless and 
 apologetic
 
 Will o' the Wasp 5 
 
 "You see, sir, my girl here, this is her; 
 Jane Fry, Lieutenant what 's the name, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Lawrence." 
 
 " Lawrence. She repels boarders mostly, 
 for me, but they get too much for the old 
 blood sometimes. Yes, sir, I 'm seventy- 
 seven years old ; seventy-seven I am, an' 
 twenty-five was I when I shipped aboard the 
 Wasp with Captain Blakely. Did ye say ye 
 knew him ? " 
 
 Know Blakely ! Yes, I knew him, as 
 every schoolboy who read and re-read 
 Cooper's Naval History, and swore, after a 
 whipping, to run away to sea, knew him. 
 Blakely, of the Wasp the second ship of 
 that fighting name, which sailed from Ports 
 mouth in my grandfather's day, took and 
 burned a dozen prizes, fought and whipped 
 the Reindeer, fought and sunk the Avon, and 
 then disappeared, some said in the stress of 
 a fearful fight, or the grip of a storm. 
 
 The old man did n't give me time to reply. 
 " Ask your pardin again, sir," he said, " but
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 might I ask some of my mates here to take a 
 glass with me, yonder, sir, to the Blue Bell 
 tavern just a step ? " The men looked at 
 me inquiringly. There was no reason for 
 denying the request. Here was I, in no 
 hurry, off duty, and eager to see a little of 
 the people in this quaint town. I could wait 
 a few minutes, and chat with a couple of bat 
 tered worthies who had drawn near. 
 
 " Well, go, lads," I said. " Be back in a 
 quarter hour ; I '11 watch the boat Jim, you 
 can go too." 
 
 The men with alacrity sprang ashore, and 
 the old sailor, forgetting me at the moment, 
 started briskly towards the street, his daugh 
 ter at one side, the flag waving above his 
 head, and a knot of brown-faced seamen 
 rolling in his wake. It was a quaint proces 
 sion, and I laughed outright. A grizzled 
 fisherman stood near me, and laughed too. 
 " Who is that old lad, my man ? " I asked. 
 
 "Why, zur, it 's one they call Wasp Willy, 
 or Will o' the Wasp, an' Will o' the Wisp, 
 some do. 'E 's gone wrong in his tops, zur,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 but a good, harmless old lad. 'E 's lived here 
 or hereabout, at Bidevor or Combe-Martin, 
 or here, fifty odd year." 
 
 " Is he what he says he is ? No one ever 
 came back from the Wasp's last cruise but 
 the men on a prize ship." The old man 
 rubbed his head. 
 
 " Wy, zur," he said, " 'e says so and none 
 can deny him 'e gets that rusty an' takes on 
 so. Then his girl Jane 's a good true soul, 
 and she says as how the old man has a book, 
 a kind o' log-book, zur, as tells as how 'e was 
 took an' how his ship went down. An' 'e 's 
 served somewhere sure enough, zur, for he 
 used to make pretty play in a broadsword 
 match when he was a younger man. 'E 's 
 handled the cutlass, zur, an' no mistake." 
 
 Further questioning brought out the fact 
 that this curious old relic had for the last 
 twenty years been under the impression that 
 he was a prisoner of war, upon parole. All 
 statements that England and America were 
 at peace were lost upon him. He did not 
 quite realize the meaning of the war between
 
 8 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 the States, but he was aware, from being 
 gibed at various times by hangers-on at the 
 tavern, that there was a ship called the Ala 
 bama sinking our merchant marine. While 
 we talked, a noise of cheering and laughter 
 came from the street. The old seaman had 
 come out of the tavern, was swinging flag in 
 one hand, cap in the other, and cheering 
 lustily. Then he would laugh, and shake his 
 fist at a group apparently within the tavern, 
 whose door stood open. His words were 
 borne to me with distinctness : 
 
 " Sunk 'er in one hour hear that, ye 
 lobster catchers ! Sunk 'er in one hour, an' 
 lost but one man hear me, ye liars ! Half 
 her crew was English English, d' ye hear ! 
 Gunners trained aboard yer ships in Ports 
 mouth. They never could shoot ! Sunk 
 the Alabamy ! Could n't do it, hay? In 
 just an hour ! Come on, mates, we '11 have 
 one more." 
 
 I saw him turn, gather a couple of my blue 
 jackets into his wide embrace, and force 
 them, with no great difficulty, towards the
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 tavern door again. To my relief they came 
 out almost at once and hurried laughing 
 towards the gig. 
 
 " Why, sir," said the coxswain, as he came 
 up, " that there Billy is an old sailor, sure 
 enough ; he 's got arms that beat anything 
 I ever see. Wasp tatooed on one arm, an' 
 Essex on it too. He says he served with 
 Porter an' came home on a prize crew from 
 the South Seas. An' the boss up to the 
 tavern says the old lad 's a man-o'-war's-man 
 an' no fooling. I said he 'd better join us an' 
 go home, but he says he 's goin' to be ex 
 changed. He 's inside now quarrelling with 
 a half dozen swabs who he swears lied to 
 him 'bout the Alabamy fight. I guess the 
 old man 's genuine, sir he talks man-of-war 
 all right." 
 
 " Did you ask him how he came here ? " 
 "Yes, sir said he was took in 1814 an' 
 landed in Plymouth heard there was a 
 place called Bideford, and as he came from 
 Biddeford down in Maine, he thought he 'd 
 steer for that there port. There he got
 
 io Will o' the Wasp 
 
 married to some girl he says was called 
 Gunner Nancy, or some such name, an' had 
 fought aboard a British ship oh, he 's crazy 
 enough, sir, some ways, I '11 bet, an' he 's 
 got the prettiest cutlass scar across his nut I 
 ever see." 
 
 When the gig had pushed off I took my 
 way up into the rambling town, that looks 
 like a little city from South Italy dropped 
 out of the lap of some cyclone on to the 
 North Devon coast. I wanted to see more 
 of Will o' the Wasp, and I was not disap 
 pointed. Just before I reached the door of 
 the " Bluebell," out he came, his daughter 
 still following him closely. He was plainly 
 flushed by his liquor and the stirring news of 
 the last few minutes. He carried on a loud 
 monologue as he strode up the street, his old 
 cap pulled over his eyes, and the flag flaunt 
 ing across his shoulder. He was still glory 
 ing in the account of the Kearsarges fight 
 and spreading curses in a broadcast manner 
 for all who had ever doubted its result. He 
 was truculent in word and bearing, so true-
 
 Will o' the Wasp. 1 1 
 
 ulent, that a remnant of his persecutors, 
 upon being charged by him and sent briskly 
 to the lower world, left him quite alone. I 
 saw that people of mature years looked at 
 him with kindliness and good-humor, and 
 several spoke pleasantly to his daughter as 
 she toiled up the steep street about a rod 
 behind. At last he reached his own house, 
 one of a score like it in Clovelly low door, 
 and stone threshold well-worn, narrow win 
 dows, and a platform outside the door from 
 which one might view the sea. He went in 
 side with a bang to of the door. In a mo 
 ment an upper window opened, the flag 
 came through, and the sash closed upon the 
 staff, holding it in place. I was at the 
 woman's side as she reached the house. She 
 recognized me, and curtsied, looking, as I 
 thought, a little shamefaced. 
 
 "Tell me," I said, "how much of what 
 your father says is true, and what is fancy?" 
 " About his being in the wars, sir? " 
 "Yes the war between England and 
 America in 1812."
 
 12 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " Why, sir, I think that 's mostly true, sir 
 the rector, sir, comes sometimes and talks 
 wi' him, an' he says as how it sounds true, 
 an' my mother she died when I was but a 
 child used to say 't was all as father made 
 out. Some days, sir, he 's strange, an' to 
 day 't was the ship an' the flag, an' all, mazed 
 him a bit, an' his drink, sir it 's that I 'm 
 fearful of, for it does always maze him cruel. 
 You see, sir, he 's been hit hard on the head 
 when a young man, an' when he 's excited he 
 goes very queer at times." 
 
 " Well, how about that diary that log 
 book of his cruise in the Wasp ? " I asked. 
 
 " He 's got it sir, an' keeps it under lock 
 an' key in his chest. He swears it '11 be 
 worth money some day for history ; but 
 Lord, sir, 't will but be fit for to kindle a 
 fire, I fear." 
 
 " Still," I said, " there may be something 
 interesting and valuable in it, anyhow to an 
 American sailor. Here is my name, and this 
 will be my address the next two weeks. If 
 your father cares to part with that journal you
 
 Will o' the Wasp 13 
 
 can drop me a line, for I '11 be this way again 
 in a fortnight, and if it 's curious, as I guess 
 it will be, I '11 make you an offer." 
 
 Ten days later, to my address in Exeter, 
 came a letter and a parcel. The letter ran : 
 
 " LIEUTENANT LAWRENCE : SIR, My 
 father's health was very bad after you left. 
 *T was the drink and excitement, I fear. A 
 week later he was took serious and died. He 
 left me all but his flag that he had wrapped 
 round him in his coffin and his book. He 
 told me and made me promise solemn to 
 give this, his log, he called it, to you, for I 
 told him what you 'd asked me, and he was 
 set upon its being made into history. I 
 found much in ; t that was private-like about 
 himself and mother, and asked him to let me 
 keep that back, but he says, ' 't is all a part of 
 the cruise of the Wasp, and all goes or none,' 
 and he made me swear solemn to send it to 
 you. If you think it worth anything you 
 may give me what you think is right, and 
 when you may be done with it, please send 
 it to me again. I live in the old house to 
 Clovelly. " Yours respectfully, 
 
 "JANE FRY."
 
 14 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 After reading the journal, I sent what 
 turned out to be a satisfactory remuneration. 
 I made up my mind to edit it upon my own 
 responsibility, as a chapter in the history of 
 the last war with England never opened be 
 fore, and as a romance as well. The diary, 
 which is in many places a sort of auto 
 biography, was apparently written some 
 years after the events described took place, 
 and is based upon the data of a log kept by 
 the old seaman during his service upon the 
 Wasp. It has the ring of truth about it, 
 though for its authenticity none can vouch. 
 It gives one a version of the end of the 
 gallant Blakely and his sloop-of-war that I 
 for one am glad to adopt. I have tried as 
 closely as may be to retain the seaman's 
 idiom and syntax, while turning the entire 
 story into a coherent narrative. For what it 
 may be worth then, as history, or, as they 
 say in the Navy, a good yarn, I submit it to 
 the public. 
 
 HENRY LAWRENCE. 
 U. S. N.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HOW I SIGNED WITH CAPTAIN BLAKELY. 
 
 /~~\F all lucky cruises, so far as I and my 
 
 mates thought, Captain Porter's in the 
 South Seas was luckiest till he struck the 
 rock he split on in Valparaiso Bay. 
 
 It was nothing but prize, prize, prize ; 
 whalers and merchantmen ; with just a smell 
 of powder, now and again, to keep the gun 
 ners in good temper. The Captain and the 
 folks in the ward-room worried sometimes, 
 I Ve heard, about meeting nothing of our 
 size to lay alongside; but as for me, I was 
 content as things ran. 
 
 They got all the fight they wanted, later on, 
 and took it like the game cocks they were. 
 
 You can't make me see much to brag on in 
 that fight off Valparaiso. Two to one and 
 long range ! They never dared come aboard, 
 15
 
 1 6 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 and a neutral harbor too ! But that 's John 
 that 's his way. If there 's something to 
 be gained, why, it 's " Damn neutrality in a 
 nation I can whip ! " 
 
 But it was my fortune to be put aboard 
 the Hector, merchantman, in a prize crew and 
 sent home long before the fight, and home I 
 got in due time, and found myself the spring 
 of 1814 in Portsmouth town, pockets full of 
 money and a good opinion of myself as well, 
 and both these facts, as I shall tell, brought 
 me to ship aboard the Wasp. I was minded 
 to lay by for a few months. I had plenty 
 money yet to make a merry summer of it, 
 and had sent home a tidy sum, as well, to 
 Biddeford, for I 'm a down Easter. I had n't 
 the notion of going to sea again till I had to, 
 and I knew the Wasp, that they 'd been try 
 ing to get me to ship aboard, was going out 
 for fighting. I knew all about Blakely, her 
 captain, and what kind of a man he was. 
 
 Now, I don't call myself a coward, and the 
 one man that ever did I whipped till he took 
 it back ; but life 's a good thing, and shore,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 17 
 
 if you have some money about you, is pleas 
 ant after a long cruise, and though I was 
 willing to fight, I was n't the sort who 'd 
 rather do it than eat. Thinks I : " While I 
 can find a white dollar by looking in my 
 pockets, I won't go a-seeking it to sea. 
 When the money goes I '11 go too, and the 
 war 's good to last a good year more, I 
 guess." So I would n't ship. 
 
 There were a parcel of 'em after me. I 
 was a good-looking young man, I reckon. 
 Six foot I stood in my stockings, and though 
 not very broad, I was deep and wiry. I was 
 but twenty-five, and my habits, bar a frolic 
 now and then, were good. 
 
 Well, there was a lad I knew, a town lad, 
 in a dry-goods store in Portsmouth, that I 'd 
 had a little trouble with. He and I were 
 courting the same girl, a nice girl she was, 
 and a daughter of old Aaron Truby of River 
 Street. Well, she liked me best, though the 
 other Jim Downs was his name sung in 
 the choir ; and so Jim ships aboard the Wasp 
 and tries to get me to come along.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 "Bill," says he, one day, down on the wharf, 
 " I 'm going to sea in the trimmest, sweetest 
 craft you ever clapped your lights on " he 
 was quick to pick up the lingo he did n't 
 half understand, " and her captain 's the 
 king-pin of the lot," says he. " Why don't 
 you ship with us ? You 're an old man-o'- 
 war's-man by your own account." 
 
 " Steady," says I, " by my mates' account, 
 as well." 
 
 " Oh, no offence," he says, laughing. " Only 
 I thought maybe you 'd be game for another 
 crack at John." 
 
 I told him how things were with me ; how 
 I was minded to lay off the summer; that I 
 had a couple of hundred dollars by me yet, 
 and that the war would last. He looked at 
 me out of the tail of his eye, as I quit talking, 
 and says : 
 
 " Two hundred dollars won't keep a wife, 
 Billy. Come along, man, and make a few 
 hundred more ; that '11 be hard sense," says 
 he. 
 
 Now this was n't his business, and I told
 
 Will o' the Wasp 19 
 
 him so, and told him so straight. He riled 
 me and always had, and I sent him along. 
 Off he goes looking sour, but he knew too 
 much to try to come aboard me. Next day I 
 met the boatswain of the Wasp with three or 
 four lads at his heels, one of them old Josh 
 Sewall, who 'd fought aboard the Bon Homme 
 Richard in '79, and who knew me well. I 
 saw boatswain tip Josh the wink, and the old 
 man comes up to me very friendly. 
 
 " Bill," says he, " we 're looking for a man 
 of your size," says he, " and a good, all round 
 seaman like you ; now, my bully," says he, 
 " you 're too good a man to rot in drydock, 
 and too young. Here 's Cap'n Blakely and 
 the trimmest sloop o' war that swims, from 
 here to Good Hope and home by way of 
 the Horn," says he. " Lots of prize money, 
 stiff fighting, maybe, for I won't lie to you, 
 and I know Captain Blakely ; and a well put 
 up man, like you, a tried seaman, as well, 
 may look for a lift, if others knocks under." 
 
 Well, he kept at me for maybe a quarter 
 hour ; they seemed bound to get me, for
 
 20 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 when I 'd shook off Josh, two other seamen 
 of Blakely's hove me to, and paid away the 
 same coil of talk. But I was set in my own 
 notion, and the more they talked the closer 
 I stuck to it. I see now that it began to 
 make me feel like a pretty big man to have 
 them chase me up this way, and by night 
 of this day I felt a little bit more than plain 
 William Fry. We 'd have a little something 
 now and again to grease the tackle with, and 
 by night I was running free and all sail set. 
 Now there was a little tavern in River Street 
 where sailors used to go to drop a few dol 
 lars over dice, maybe, or stand a few rounds 
 of ale or Medford, and there that night was 
 I, and with me every man who 'd talked 
 Wasp with me that day, and drink was 
 plenty and jaw-tackle loose. Josh Sewall had 
 served aboard the Constitution, and sang a 
 song going the round those days that went 
 
 " The Guerriere a frigate bold 
 As e'er on foaming ocean rolled," 
 
 and so on, telling how she could lick the
 
 Will o' the Wasp 21 
 
 Frenchmen two to one, but how we whipped 
 her. 
 
 Josh seemed very drunk, and kept at me 
 all the time with : " Here 's to Cap'n Hull- 
 here 's one to Lawrence now Bill, I give 
 you your old Captain, Porter," and so it 
 went. There was nothing to do but drink. 
 I saw I was paying right and left, but that I 
 did n't care about. I was rich enough to stay 
 ashore, and they were going to sea again for 
 the rhino. By-and-by I forgot what was 
 going on, till suddenly I was aware the bar 
 was quiet and some one shaking me. " Sit 
 up, Billy," says a voice, and I found I was in 
 a chair by a table where I 'd been when I lost 
 myself. The sailors, all but Josh, were gone, 
 but there in the middle of the room, looking 
 at me very black, was Aaron Truby ! Ho\v 
 he came there I did n't at the minute know, 
 but there he was. 
 
 " William," says he, very solemn " I know 
 you come to see my daughter, and till now 
 I Ve been willing it should be so ; but to 
 night, right here, among your mates~-I may
 
 22 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 say your betters you boasted you would 
 marry her. Thank God I Ve seen you for 
 what you are. Don't come to my house 
 again," says he. " If it had n't been for Jim 
 Downs I 'd never have rightly known you." 
 
 " Did that cowardly sculpin bring you 
 here? " I says, trying to stand up, and lurch 
 ing on to the bar. " If he did, this town 's too 
 small for the two of us, by " 
 
 " Silence ! " says he, very stern he was a 
 deacon in the church, and if I had n't been 
 tipsy I 'd never have thought to curse before 
 him. " Keep your oaths to yourself," says 
 he. " There '11 be room enough in the town 
 for you if it 's Jim you think crowds you 
 he 's going to fight for his country like a man 
 while you stay here and soak. But never 
 cross my door-sill again. That 's all." 
 
 Out he went, and the door slammed to. I 
 looked at old Josh, and I thought he seemed 
 pretty sober for a lad who 'd stowed so much 
 under the hatches, and he looked as if he was 
 a bit sorry for my raking from Aaron. Then 
 I felt in my pockets. Loose change there
 
 Will o' the Wasp 23 
 
 was, copper and silver, but my gold nigh 
 two hundred dollars was gone. I did n't 
 say a word for a minute, but my face must 
 have spoke loud enough. Then says I, very 
 deliberate : 
 
 " Well, when I sailed along with Captain 
 Porter in the Essex, there 's many a night my 
 mates and I have set the grog going pretty 
 free, and each man of us with a fist full of 
 yellow boys ; but the only hands that went 
 into our pockets were our own. I 've drunk 
 with a good many seamen," says I, getting 
 to my feet I was getting nigh to sober now, 
 " but I never lost a farthing before." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " says Josh, pretty- 
 hot. 
 
 " Mean ? " says I. " I mean that some 
 swab has taken about two hundred dollars in 
 gold coin out of my breeches while I sat here 
 thinking I was safe among American seamen, 
 by the Lord," says I, " that 's what I mean." 
 He got up and took a tack or two about the 
 room ; then he came and sat down next to 
 me again.
 
 24 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 "I *m sick of this job," says he, "and I '11 
 tell you how it was, Bill. You see, we 
 wanted you bad aboard the sloop, and I said 
 I'd get you, seeing there 's no press-gang, 
 somehow or t' other. So I says to the lads 
 along with me, ' We '11 get him drinking, and 
 get away with that chink that 's making him 
 hug shore, and when he finds he 's strapped, 
 he '11 ship. Once out to sea, we '11 hand the 
 money back ' sit down ! " 
 
 I 'd got to my feet very savage. 
 
 " Sit down and hold your tongue till I 'm 
 through. Why, you 're a good man, mate," 
 says he, " but you 're too unsteady on those 
 pins to tackle me now ; sit down, I tell ye. 
 There, that 's right and sensible. So we got 
 you tight, and I took your money. Here it 
 is, every shilling of it take it. And while 
 you snored in your chair, along comes 
 Downs, gives a look at you, and goes out 
 pretty quick. Back he steers with the old 
 party that just raked you. I did n't know 
 till then you were sparking a lass, Bill," he 
 says, putting his hand on my shoulder, " and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 25 
 
 now I know it, I 'm sick of the job. Give us 
 your hand," says he, " and say you don't 
 bear a grudge." 
 
 I suppose I was turned silly by the drink, 
 for to find my money as sudden as I missed 
 it, and a staunch seaman alongside pitying 
 me for the mess I was in, and the blast old 
 Aaron gave me, together with the chance I 
 stood to lose my girl, made me whimper like 
 a baby. 
 
 " No grudge at all, Josh," says I ; " and in 
 a way 't was a joke I earned. But joke or no 
 joke, there 's no laugh in it with old Aaron 
 and Lindy. He 's seen me drunk, and now 
 he '11 believe no less than that I 'm a sot. 
 'T is the end of the game for me, Josh," I 
 says, with my knuckle in my eye like a lad 
 that 's been switched at school. " You don't 
 know the old pirate ; and Lindy, she 's nigh 
 as strict." 
 
 Old Josh cursed a bit to himself like, and 
 stood up and down the room. By-and-byhe 
 says: "If Jim Downs comes back from this 
 cruise with a pocket full, and finds you here
 
 26 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 about run out of money, and on the black 
 list too, he '11 weather you sure enough, Bill/' 
 says he. 
 
 I 'd thought of that too. 
 
 " So, lad," goes on the old man, " why not 
 ship as well ? " And then after a minute, as 
 I sat thinking : " There 's another girl," says 
 he, " that you and me don't talk much of, 
 maybe, but we love her all the same. Her 
 head 's on this coin here, and her name 's 
 Columbia," says he, very solemn. " Why, 
 boy, there 's more than money to be got 
 aboard the Wasp. We 're no greedy pri- 
 vateersmen, Bill, and when you Ve been a 
 few days along with Captain Blakely you 'II 
 begin to think a man owes his country just a 
 little. Now Blakely 's not born this side ; 
 but he 's been adopted by us, and means to 
 show us the family can be proud of him. 
 Here are you and I, Bill, born here, and 
 raised leastways you, for I 'm an old man 
 that remembers Colony days raised free. 
 Why ? Because some men thought more of 
 liberty and the land that bred 'em than of
 
 Will o' the Wasp 27 
 
 their skins or property. Then Bill," he says, 
 " that girl of Truby's will think more of you, 
 and old Aaron likely will forgive you when 
 you come back, if you do." 
 
 " There it is, mate if I do." 
 
 " Why, if you don't, Billy," says he, slap- 
 .ping me on my shoulder, "you '11 go down 
 with the bravest captain that breathes, or 
 get a burial as fine as if you wore a sword. 
 You '11 have the same monument Commo 
 dore Decatur would get, and the whole wide 
 sea for a churchyard. Come, Bill. I Ve 
 treated you fair, and I 'm telling you truth. 
 It 's the man's course I 'm setting for you, 
 and you know it." 
 
 Yes, I knew it. Old Josh did n't use to 
 talk very much, and the blast he gave me 
 almost winded him. Part what he said of 
 Jim's chances against mine with Lindy, part 
 the thing he spoke of my owing the country 
 a duty, and part because I was maybe a lit 
 tle homesick for a taste of the salt water 
 again, did the business for me. He saw me 
 weakening, and says he with a wink :
 
 28 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " What 's more, Downs wont be ashore 
 again," says he, " for we sail the day after 
 to-morrow, and you '11 like a crack at him for 
 the trick the lubber has done you." 
 
 " That settles it," says I. " I '11 ship for 
 the rest of the war, if it 's only to even up in 
 the fo'k'sle with the hound. Come along 
 I '11 go aboard with you to-night. But, mate," 
 says I, " I 've no kit ready." 
 
 " Don't you worry, my lad," says Josh. 
 " We 've got one that will suit you to a but 
 ton. Why, Lord love you, Billy," says he 
 and the old sea lawyer laughed suddenly till 
 he nigh choked, " we meant to have you, 
 and I knew I 'd get you, so all 's ready for 
 you aboard. Foul did n't win, but fair does 
 the trick, eh, mate ? " 
 
 Well, I laughed too. After all, the old lad 
 had been square and true. " I wont back 
 water," says I. 
 
 " Well, you 'd better," says he, joking, " for 
 it 's a steadier horse in the end to back than 
 rum." And we both went out of the tavern 
 and along down to the wharf. A boat lay
 
 Will o' the Wasp 29 
 
 there, and three men one of 'em Downs 
 asleep in her. " Wake up, lads ! " calls Josh ; 
 and they sat up rubbing their eyes. 
 
 " Got him, hay," says one, with a laugh. 
 " He came of his own free will," says Josh, 
 dryly, as we climbed down and aboard. 
 
 " Hobson's choice, maybe," says Jim to me, 
 as I took an oar. I gave him a look. " I came 
 because I wanted to see you about some 
 business, matey," says I, softly. " Some 
 thing you and me will settle in the fo'k'sle," 
 says I. He looked a little down at this, 
 but was going to give me a shot back, when 
 Josh, who was coxswain, sings out, " Toss, 
 all ! No more jawing, you sneaking little 
 counter-jumper. Bill, shut your mouth. 
 Give way ! 
 
 When we were a few hundred feet from 
 the ship Josh says softly to me : " Look at 
 her," says he ; " there 's the best ship under 
 frigate class that sails the seas." I had 
 looked at her often before, and I turned 
 and looked as he spoke. She was a beauty, 
 there could n't be two words about that.
 
 30 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 She was a sloop-of-war, what they call, too, 
 a corvette. Three masts she had, and pretty 
 spars they were. She was deep in the waist 
 like ships of her class, and was pierced for 
 eleven guns to the broadside. A big brig of 
 war might have been her match, but 't would 
 have had to be a big one. As she lay in the 
 moonlight she looked nigh the size of my 
 old ship the Essex frigate, but the darkness 
 made her look larger than she was, for she 
 was not in the frigate class nor near it. As 
 we came alongside several seamen with a lan 
 tern among 'em peered over at us. Another 
 man joined them. I saw he was in officer's 
 uniform, and as we got aboard and Josh 
 saluted and called him Captain, I knew 't was 
 Captain Blakely himself. 
 
 " So you got him," I heard him say, as the 
 old man stepped aft a rod or two to report. 
 "Aye, aye, sir," says Josh, "but he did n't 
 need much urging. Says he 's wanting a job 
 and glad to sign." This was a lie, but I 
 guess the old lad wanted to make it easier 
 all round for me. The Captain came up to
 
 Will o' the Wasp 31 
 
 me as I stood waiting for orders, and looked 
 me up and down. " You 're the man I 
 wanted," says he, after a minute. " What 's 
 your age ? " 
 
 " Twenty-five, sir." 
 
 " Good. We 've work ahead for young 
 men" (he was only thirty-four himself). 
 " Born in Portsmouth ? " 
 
 " Biddeford, sir." 
 
 " It 's just as good," says he ; " my men 
 are all Yankees, and you '11 be in good com 
 pany." He turned on his heel and went 
 aft. Josh followed him. I heard them laugh 
 and I guess 't was at my cost, but now I 'd 
 made my mind up to ship I did n't care, and 
 truth to tell it pleased me to find they 'd 
 been at such pains to get me. I was given 
 a hammock and turned in at once. 
 
 Next day I kept aboard ship. I sent a 
 letter to my folks in Biddeford, telling them 
 I 'd gone again to sea. I knew 't would n't 
 trouble them. I 'd always been a rover 
 not a black sheep, mind you, but one who 'd 
 jump a fence whether the bell-wether showed
 
 32 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 the way or not. I sent them part of my 
 money, and some I gave to an old shipmate, 
 Caleb Whaley, who was going ashore, to 
 buy a little gold charm I told him of. He was 
 to take it, with a few lines, to Lindy Truby. 
 Maybe she could n't read the letter, my fist 
 was never proper squared for writing, but she 
 would know what the brooch meant. When 
 Caleb came aboard that night and told me 
 how she looked when she got it and the news 
 of me shipping aboard the Wasp, I was glad 
 I 'd stayed on the sloop. She did n't take 
 on as I thought she might, and, to tell the 
 truth, hoped she would. She said she guessed 
 it was a good thing for me. And then, by 
 Caleb's account, she was very sociable with 
 him. He could n't say enough about her, 
 which is to say he said too blasted much, 
 and I was glad I 'd stayed aboard. Says I 
 to me : 
 
 " Well, there 's always a gain somewhere. 
 Here 's Captain Blakely has a likely seaman 
 through this mess you 've made, Bill, and a 
 cabin-boy too, for Downs is in the same
 
 Will o' the Wasp 33 
 
 snarl. Cabin-boy ! " says I, chuckling to 
 myself, for I thought the notion smart ; 
 " that 's what Jim 's good for, and naught 
 besides." I met him a few minutes later on 
 the deck, rigged out very fine in his sea togs, 
 proud as a boy in his first boots. He did n't 
 look happy as I came up to him, but he 
 leaned up against the bulwarks and tried to 
 face me out. 
 
 " Jim," says I, " I was going to settle a 
 little score with you to-day that might have 
 spoiled your good looks," says I, " but I 've 
 thought better of it. You tried to ruin my 
 chance with Lindy ! Well, I never had any, 
 I guess anyhow, if I had, I 'm glad it 's 
 gone. If I lived to grow gray in Portsmouth 
 town, she might die an old maid now before 
 I 'd help her out. Thank you, Jim," says I, 
 " you Ve done me a good turn where you 
 meant a foul. But hark ye, mate, don't run 
 across my bows again," I says, " for I might 
 forget you are five foot five and I six foot," 
 and I turned and left him very quiet. He 
 looked pretty thoughtful all that day. I
 
 34 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 guess he began to suspicion that Lindy liked 
 shop-clerks and choir-singing better than 
 sailors, and kind of longed to be ashore and 
 tuning up in the old meeting-house. But 
 't was too late now, and early morning of 
 May ist heard the boatswain's whistle piping 
 lively and saw us stand out to sea. 
 
 A crowd watched us go. There were 
 fathers and mothers and sweethearts, all to 
 see us sail. I did n't see Lindy, and I told 
 myself I did n't care. Yet I felt a little as 
 if I 'd like to have had some claim to a foot 
 of the white bunting that kept going up to 
 women's faces or flapping from their hands. 
 'T was a sad sight too, but 't is Jack's life, 
 and after all, would he change it ? Not 
 while the sight 's good, and the muscles 
 stringy and hard, and foothold steady, and 
 the sea winds blow.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HOW WE BORE AWAY TO THE CHOPS OF 
 THE BRITISH CHANNEL. 
 
 V\7E got safe away to sea, and that might 
 ha' been a trick none too easy. There 
 was a big squadron cruising along the coast, 
 shutting up in port some of our best ships. 
 But Captain Blakely had made up his mind 
 to get to sea and to sea we got. I daresay a 
 74-gun ship might have blocked him, though 
 he 'd ha' sailed all around her in a light 
 breeze, but I don't think he 'd have stopped 
 for any single frigate. He was out to fight. 
 To cut up British shipping all he could of 
 course, but to fight first, last, and all the 
 time. 
 
 There was something about the course he 
 laid and the cruising ground he made straight 
 for, that told us men we had work cut out. 
 35
 
 36 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 Just as a bull terrier goes straight to a leg or 
 the throat, so the Wasp ran straight for the 
 Chops of the Channel. No cruising in South 
 ern Seas. No coasting, nor waiting in our own 
 waters for the Englishmen to come and find 
 us. As fast as sails and a true course could 
 make it we went to the very navy-yard of 
 Great Britain, to the narrow seas, where the 
 merchantmen were thick and men-o'-war ran 
 plenty. 
 
 I did n't think he 'd lay the course he did, 
 but Josh, who was very chummy with me, 
 says: 
 
 " Bill," says he, " don't you mistake me. 
 He carries a chip on his shoulder, and he 's 
 going to give John a dare in John's own 
 water. Cruise awhile in the South Seas do 
 you say, man ? Why, there 's more prizes, 
 anyway better, where we 're going. Not 
 dirty, stinking whalers, lad, but good, fat 
 Indiamen, and then, as I 've said before, 
 there 's no danger of our guns a-rusting. 
 Who 's that singing below ? " 
 
 I knew the voice, 't was Jim Downs.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 37 
 
 The poor beggar had been sick as a land-cat 
 for the first two or three days' run. If he 'd 
 had a heart in him, or a soul he 'd ha' 
 parted with it those few days. Now he was 
 better, and stirring round a bit. He wa'n't 
 fit for a seaman, but they used him as a kind 
 of assistant purser's clerk, for he was handy 
 with his pen. 'T was he singing, very mourn 
 ful and yet sweet too, for he had a good 
 voice, do him that justice. He sat upon a 
 chest not far from the fo'k'sle hatch. It was 
 something about the " sweet month of May " 
 he was singing, and one line ran, 
 
 " Where the cows sweetly lowing in a dewy morning," 1 
 
 There was plenty more of it, all praising 
 landsman's life. He sang high up and very 
 sweet, and there were three or four lads, 
 marines, country boys I reckon, sitting round 
 him pretty solemn. They were young and 
 new to the trade, and had sweethearts to 
 miss 'em, maybe. / would n't have both- 
 
 1 I find this song printed in the log of a privateer of the 
 War of Independence. H. L.
 
 38 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 ered him, but it riled Josh to see him sitting 
 there singing, and now and again piping his 
 eye. 
 
 " Belay there ! " he shouted down the hatch. 
 " Stow that song, you, Downs " (he was al 
 ways hard on Jim since the trick on me). 
 " What a hell of a song to sing aboard a 
 man-o'-war! You won't hear the cows 
 ' sweetly lowing ' again, lad not soon. 
 You 're going to see a bull, my boy, and if 
 you like his voice, 't is more than I guess 
 for," says Josh, who never lost a chance at a 
 joke. " Now, then, here 's a song for you 
 boys, and I '11 sing it myself. It 's a song 
 for lads with red blood in their veins " ; and 
 Josh, in a voice that sounded like the hoist 
 ing of the mainsail, sang a song I afterwards 
 learned myself. It had a good swing to it, 
 and the words pleased us all. The marines 
 were cheered up by it, and even Jim Downs 
 sat by to listen. There was a crowd about 
 the old man before he finished with it. The 
 words were gloomy enough, but they had 
 the smell of salt water and tarry ropes about
 
 Will o' the Wasp 39 
 
 'em and a breeze with 'em that made it easy 
 for a seafaring man to understand ; then 
 there was a kind of daredevilry about the 
 song that caught the youngsters: 
 
 " But as Providence would have it it was not quite so bad, 
 But first we lost our mizzen-mast and then went off our 
 
 flag, 
 
 And next we lost our main-mast, one of our guns also, 
 With five men drowned then, in the Bay of Biscay O ! " 
 
 The men, such as knew it, would come in 
 strong on the last line, and the " five men 
 drowned then " pleased the green ones. 
 They began to think because they were 
 aboard ship, harking to songs about drown 
 ing and the dangers of the sea, that they 
 were sharing some themselves. Well, God 
 knows they got their full ration, and it came 
 quick and rather sudden. 
 
 Josh Sewall was a good deal of a man 
 aboard the Wasp he was only an ordinary 
 seaman, but he was an old, tried hand, a 
 great favorite with the quarter-deck, and his 
 experience, his service in three wars the 
 Independence, the one against Tripoli, and
 
 40 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 this made him to be looked up to in the 
 fo'k'sle. All this did n't set him up too high 
 and keep him from being good shipmate to 
 the youngest lad aboard. He 'd seen the 
 Constitution pound the Guerricre into match 
 wood, and whip the Java too, but he was 
 no hand to brag. Some of the raw hands 
 would talk by the fathom of Perry and De- 
 catur and Bainbridge and Hull, and what 
 they 'd done, and I 'd say a word or two 
 myself for Captain Porter, but Josh never 
 took a hand in the game. The talk of our 
 making the sea too hot for John Bull with 
 our little navy, of how a Yankee sloop could 
 stand off a 32, yes, or a 44 frigate, made the 
 old man laugh. 
 
 " Wind," says he, " wind. " If you lads '11 
 sit just astern the mainsail you '11 fill the old 
 sheet out and give us a knot or two to the 
 better," says he. He knew, at sea, that what 
 talked was gunning and good seamanship 
 and, above all, a well disciplined crew. 
 
 " Speak of Hull and Bainbridge and the 
 others," says he, suddenly, one day, when a
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 lot of us off duty were paying out talk, " all 
 you please, but there 's never a lad of you 
 to say a word for Captain Lawrence, as 
 brave a man as ever walked the quarter 
 deck." 
 
 No one had said anything of him, and 
 that was true. The country was still sore 
 over the Shannon taking the Chesapeake in 
 single action off Boston Harbor. 
 
 " As good a man was he," says Josh again, 
 " as Bainbridge or Decatur, but what ruined 
 him ? A bad crew a lot of raw lubbers and 
 foreign swabs." (Josh was veering for a ser 
 mon to the new men, I saw that.) " A green 
 hand may be brave, but he 's not worth his 
 grog if he don't know his trade. Hark to 
 that, you boys there you, Jim Downs, I 
 mean you too." 
 
 " I aint a seaman," says Jim, very cool ; 
 " I 'm assistant purser's clerk." 
 
 " Lord bless you," says old Josh, rolling 
 his quid in his mouth, " I nor any man 
 aboard this ship '11 accuse you of being a 
 seaman, but if you think," and here he be-
 
 42 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 gan to warm up, "you '11 be let off your 
 trick at fighting, if any one comes aboard of 
 us, you 've missed your guess, my bully," 
 says he. " One thing about our navy, that *s 
 not out of its baby clothes yet, is that every 
 man fights if he has to. Why, the only man 
 on the quarter-deck when Captain Broke 
 came aboard the Chesapeake was who ? Who 
 do you think, you purser's clerk? Why, 
 the chaplain, by thunder ! the parson, full 
 of fight, and lets go his pistol at the Brit 
 isher, and gets his arm sliced half off for it ! 
 No, don't you fret yourself, mate you '11 
 learn to finger a cutlass as well as a pen 
 aboard this ship ; and you other boys, re 
 member what I say, a green hand who wont 
 learn is only fit for ballast, and not for that 
 half the time." 
 
 Josh got up and walked away. He 'd said 
 all he had to, given us each a shot, and he 
 had n't time for yarn-spinning that did n't 
 carry a moral along. I liked what he said 
 of every man doing his trick when the time 
 came, but as for brag, it 's my notion that a
 
 Will o' the Wasp 43 
 
 little aint so bad. Of course " Holdfast 's " 
 the better dog, but let the men crack 'em- 
 selves up now and again. What has gone to 
 make the British the sea-dogs all know them 
 for? Bull-dog grit? Pluck, seamanship? 
 Yes, of course, and one thing else the 
 steady belief they have that they never get 
 licked. It 's always heavier metal or bloody 
 bad luck does the trick, or maybe it 's be 
 cause the other ship is " manned half by 
 English sailors," or some such yarn. Yarn 
 they don't think it, not for a minute, 't is 
 gospel to them. The thing that 's played 
 the devil in their service, when fighting us, 
 is that their officers swallow the same windy 
 duff they feed the men. Officers should 
 know better. They 've no right to blink 
 facts to salve their pride. Let the Jack Tars 
 believe they can't be whipped and never 
 have been, fairly ; it '11 help 'em, it wont 
 hurt 'em anyhow, and it pleases the young 
 ones. But let the officers find out and profit 
 by what 's wrong when they strike a foul 
 streak of fortune they '11 do better next
 
 44 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 time. As for the crew, why, let Brag bark a 
 little, now and again, 't will heart up old 
 Holdfast. 
 
 Now Josh, when I come to think, had no 
 right to preach. I 've heard the story told 
 that the day Hull took the Guerricre, Josh 
 rowed bow in the first boat went off to the 
 prize. There were three or four American 
 merchant captains, prisoners aboard the Eng 
 lishman. They 'd come on deck when the 
 fight was over and one sees Josh whom he 'd 
 known in old times. 
 
 " Well, Josh," he calls out, " what have 
 you folks been doing with us?" "Doing 
 with you ! " says the old man, " been playing 
 with you but if it had n't ha' been the Sab 
 bath we 'd ha' shown you what fighting was" 
 says he. 
 
 Now according to my lights that 's pretty 
 tall brag, yet it never kept old Josh from be 
 ing as brave a man as ever I saw buckle on 
 a cutlass, bar one or two, and one is the man 
 I must speak of now, Captain Johnston 
 Blakely.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 45 
 
 He was not a large man, but he had a fig 
 ure that, in a way of speaking, was cleared 
 for action all the time. Every muscle was 
 taut, every pound of flesh had its use, and 
 he carried nothing in the way of cargo. He 
 was the soul of his ship not of his ship's 
 crew I don't mean that here, though he 
 was ; but if ever a wooden ship had a soul, 
 and I Ve seen 'em look like living things, 
 then the soul of the trimmest, staunchest, 
 gamest sloop-o'-war that ever swam the 
 pond, was Johnston Blakely. A polite 
 man to every one was he. If you had done 
 your duty, he was as civil to you, be you 
 common seaman, as though you lived in the 
 ward room. He was one of the breed of 
 fighters who 'd got their schooling in Tripoli 
 with Decatur and Somers and Bainbridge 
 and Hull. He was born in North Ireland, 
 but was brought a baby to the States, and 
 now hailed from North Carolina. 
 
 He had a crew of young men like himself. 
 The average age of the entire ship's company 
 could n't have been more than twenty-three
 
 46 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 years green and raw a great part of them, 
 but of good stuff that seasoned soon. I '11 
 never forget the first week at sea. Of all 
 remarkable sights on this cruise, and there 
 were more than one, what struck me as the 
 strangest was to see scores of the crew sick 
 as landsmen, leaning over the bulwarks or 
 lying pale and quiet on the fo'k'sle and in 
 their hammocks. 1 I don't blame 'em, not I. 
 Sick as a cat I was the first time I put to sea 
 in the old coaster Hannah Fairbanks, running 
 'twixt Biddeford and Boston town. All 
 these youngsters were trained to handle 
 ropes and lay aloft as brisk as ever an old 
 sea-dog, but they were harbor-trained. 
 When we got out to sea the roll and pitch 
 caught them hard between decks, and, as I 
 said, we had a floating hospital for about a 
 week. 
 
 But when that was past the good blood in 
 the boys showed forward. How they ate ! 
 
 1 I find corroboration of this statement in volume vii. 
 of Niles's Register, in one of the items about the Wasp. 
 
 H. L.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 47 
 
 'T was worth a shake-up, to gain the twist 
 they had. And soon 't was pretty to see 
 them get aloft and out upon the yards, lively 
 as if they 'd followed the sea from the cradle ! 
 'T is in the Yankee to be a good seaman. 
 The long, long sail in the top-heavy tubs of 
 one hundred and fifty years ago put it into 
 the blood of their forefathers the salt air and 
 the sea breeze got into the blood and stayed 
 there. So what with the knack in the blood, 
 stout hearts, good discipline, and top-rate 
 officers from captain to boatswain's mate, 
 the Wasp's crew, by the time we were within 
 a few days' run of the Channel, was as good 
 a lot of seamen as I 'd ask to see. Of course 
 many of them had seen no fighting as yet, 
 but that 's not half the importance some 
 reckon it. 
 
 June 2d we sighted a sail, for which we 
 at once made chase. 'T was pretty to see the 
 excitement among the new lads, and good 
 for the heart to know they were looking for 
 fight more than prize-money. Even I got a 
 spice of the feeling that stirred them. I '11
 
 48 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 say honest, for lying was a hitch I never 
 learned, that a prize or two or three before 
 long bowls, with grape and cutlass to wind 
 up with, was more to my taste. But 't was 
 pleasant to see those boys get aloft and 
 shake out the canvas, and stand about the 
 deck and pump the old hands. 'T was : 
 
 "What d'ye make her out, Josh?" and, 
 "Is she a privateer or a brig-o'-war ? " and, 
 "Will we overhaul her, do you think?" and, 
 " Blast her for a coward ! see her run ! " and 
 all that. It pleased Josh and the other older 
 seamen to see their spirit, and they had 
 more than all the questions they could an 
 swer put to 'em. I came in for a share, for 
 tho' I 'd seen but little fighting, I counted 
 for something as a man who 'd helped take 
 many a prize along with the Essex and Cap 
 tain Porter. Jim Downs got a pinch of the 
 spirit astir himself. 
 
 " Dassent wait for us, Josh," says he, edg 
 ing up to the old man who 'd rarely a decent 
 word for him. "Is she a man-o'-war, d'ye 
 think?"
 
 Will o' the Wasp 49 
 
 " Well," says the old lad, without looking 
 at him, " I guess she 's a ship o' the line, the 
 Poictiers, maybe, or a whole fleet of war 
 ships, including gunboats and bomb-ketch 
 es," says he. " Why, you poor ignorant 
 tune-singing deputy-purser's clerk," says he, 
 looking round sudden, and letting go a sluice 
 from his quid over the rail, " John does n't 
 keep men-o'-war for races of this kind," says 
 he ; " they fight with their guns, not with 
 their heels. Why, if that sail yonder carried 
 the king's commission, she : d be running 
 down here to flap it in our eyes instead of 
 crowding all sail to get away like the poor 
 scared merchant brig she is." 
 
 " So she is," says one of the new hands. 
 " You never saw lines like that in a man-o'- 
 war," says another ; and Josh laughs and 
 turns to go aft. The Captain and Lieutenant 
 Tillinghast, a fine seamanly officer, stood 
 talking together about midship, and eying 
 the chase through their glasses. They beck 
 oned Josh, and he up to them and salutes. 
 I guess they were questioning him about the 
 
 4
 
 50 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 excitement forward, and that the old man 
 had his joke about the /4-gun ship over 
 again, for they both laughed hearty. Then 
 the Captain took a few steps towards a 
 crowd of us standing and lying just abaft 
 the fo'k'sle hatch. He did n't come very 
 close, for he did n't want us jumping up and 
 saluting, and he had n't anything to say 
 either. But he felt good, for he was smiling, 
 I saw that. He had a smile that drew a 
 smile. Let him look that way at any old 
 sour face in the crew, and 't was ten to one 
 the smile came back at him. There was 
 something not like other men about Captain 
 Blakely. I always had a kind of feeling 
 about him that how shall I say it ? Well, 
 most men I can see in my mind growing old 
 and leathery-faced and wrinkled, but he 
 did n't seem to me to be a man for whom 
 the Lord had an old age assigned, but one 
 who had his work cut out, and that done 
 with, good-by. But this is, likely, all my 
 fancy. 
 
 We overhauled the brig, for brig she was,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 5 1 
 
 and sent a boat's crew aboard her. Tim 
 Stevens was coxswain, and I rowed stroke 
 a fine seaman was Tim, and my good friend. 
 When we came alongside, there stood the 
 merchant captain by the taffrail. Very sour 
 he looked, and small wonder, for in an hour 
 or two he knew the Neptune, which was the 
 name of the brig, would be sunk or burnt. 
 But as we climbed aboard, we had no eyes 
 for the captain. 'Twas a girl that stood 
 near him we looked at. 
 
 If the captain's face was sour, what shall 
 I say of hers ? But steady all 't was not 
 sour that it could never be, but it was 
 angry, and bitter angry at that. There 's a 
 few, a very few women have faces that look 
 well in a rage. She was one. " If she 's so 
 pretty, mad," says Tim to me," " what '11 she 
 be, smiling, Bill ? " And I guess the point 
 was a good one. 
 
 While our lads busied themselves about 
 the prize I stood at the wheel and the Lieu 
 tenant near me ; he knew a pretty face him 
 self, and I got a good look at the lass. She
 
 52 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 might have been eighteen, about, and quite 
 tall and well put up and trim. She had eyes 
 of light brown that turned darker when she 
 looked at you. Her cheeks were red, and 
 brown too from the sea-wind and the sun, 
 and her hair that reddish brown with a yet 
 redder streak in it, that takes the sun free, 
 and has a shine of polished copper about it. 
 
 She saw me looking at her and turned 
 about and stood with her back towards me. 
 By and by she turned a bit just to see if I 
 was looking her way still, and when she 
 found 't was so, she looked prettier than ever. 
 Her jaw was square, and her nose what might 
 be called turned up, just a thought, and she 
 had a way of showing her teeth, white be 
 tween the red of her lips, that made me think 
 of a terrier. I held my hand to her as she 
 climbed down to the cutter, but she never 
 saw it, or acted so. Josh Sewall helped her 
 down and she crouched in the stern of the 
 boat by the side of the brig's captain. All 
 this time she had n't said a word. 
 
 Now the Lieutenant saw, like the rest of
 
 Will o' the Wasp 53 
 
 us, what a pretty bit of a craft she was, and 
 several times he spoke to her some little 
 thing or other but not a word would she 
 give him. By and by, as the sea was com 
 ing now and again over the gunwale, he 
 leaned over to pull a bit of tarpaulin across 
 her knees. She jumped away from him so 
 brisk she nigh upset the boat. The Lieutenant 
 drew back looking kind of offended, and no 
 wonder, and the brig captain, who did n't 
 know what we Yankees were going to do 
 with him, and did n't want to get our tem 
 pers going, says to her very short : 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Nancy, don't be a fool, 
 I tell ye." Well, 't was as good as a play. 
 She turned on him and spoke for the first 
 time in my hearing : 
 
 " Don't you dare speak to me that way, 
 you coward," she says, " don't you dare. 
 Speak to men so, if you want to, but not to 
 me. But you don't dare to talk so to men, 
 not even Yankees. I 'd have sunk the boat 
 load of 'em this day if you 'd let me touch 
 off the carronade."
 
 54 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " For God's sake hold your tongue, you 
 shrew," calls the brig captain, blue by now, 
 and took hold of her, as though to make her 
 keep still. I was pulling stroke, as I said 
 before. I pulled with my right hand and 
 dropped my left on the beggar's shoulder as 
 he leaned over towards the girl. 
 
 " Drop it," says I, " let her talk, you shut 
 up." Then I remembered it was the Lieu 
 tenant's business to chip in if any one's. "I 
 beg pardon, sir," says I, " but I forgot at 
 the minute." 
 
 " That 's all right, Bill," says he, cheerily, 
 " I was going to do the very same. Never 
 mind what the young lady says, captain," 
 says he, " 't is a woman's privilege," and he 
 bowed and smiled at the girl. She never 
 looked at him, but she gave me a glance that 
 made me wonder what I 'd said to deserve 
 it. Sometimes I used to think she was fre 
 quent in a temper because she knew she 
 looked well that way. When we got to the 
 ship up she goes aboard, touching no one's 
 hand, spry as a kitten.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 55 
 
 "Who's the young lady?" says Captain 
 Blakely, after he had got the Lieutenant's re 
 port and had said a few words to the brig's 
 captain. 
 
 " She 's Nancy Barker of Plymouth, your 
 honor," says the Englishman, " the daugh 
 ter of an old shipmate of mine. The two 
 were coming round from Yarmouth in the 
 Petrel, a privateer in which John Barker had 
 a share, sir, to Plymouth. John 's dead this 
 week or more, and the rest of the lads aboard 
 the Petrelhovo. me to and sent Nancy aboard, 
 and then bore away God knows where. They 
 left the lass on my hands and I Ve been look 
 ing for the chance to put her aboard a home- 
 bound ship. The rest your honor knows," 
 says he. 
 
 All this time Nancy, for as the brig cap 
 tain says, 'twas her name, was looking all 
 around very cool and staring at Captain 
 Blakely and the other officers about as if 
 she 'd like to know what they were doing 
 aboard the Wasp. When the English skip 
 per quit talking, of a sudden she speaks up.
 
 56 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 "Yes, I 'm Nancy Barker," says she, 
 " Gunner Nancy, they called me on the 
 Petrel before I went aboard the brig yon 
 der ; for I can shoot a gun and aim it too," 
 says she, " as your boat would have found 
 this morning if this cowardly hulk," point 
 ing at the brig captain, " had let me fire the 
 carronade." 
 
 " Well," says Blakely very pleasant, " we 
 owe you a good deal Captain," then he gave 
 a few orders and walked aft. As he went 
 I heard him say to the purser, " fit her up 
 a berth somewhere well away from the 
 fok's'le." Lord, you should have seen the 
 girl's face for she heard him too. 
 
 " The farther the better ! " she cried, " the 
 farther the better. I 'd not suffer one of 
 your beggarly Yankee swine to come near 
 me," says she in a white heat. Then she 
 stopped very sudden, ashamed I think of 
 the talk she 'd used. She ran a few steps 
 after Captain Blakely, and as he turned, 
 saluted like a Jack tar and says quite low 
 " I ask your pardon, Captain," then turned
 
 Will o' the Wasp 57 
 
 about and leaned against the bulwarks look 
 ing away towards the brig. 
 
 I liked her asking pardon, for I saw it 
 came hard, but she should ha' done it. No 
 decenter lot of lads ever came out of port 
 than we had aboard. Such as had n't wives 
 had sweethearts, except maybe Bill Fry, and 
 if I had n't one I was getting one so far as 
 my part went, pretty fast. If ever a man 
 was taken off of his feet of a sudden 't was 
 I. Says I to me before ever we came 
 aboard the Wasp with Nancy, " there 's the 
 lass I want." In my mind I ran her along 
 side of Lindy and she took the wind out of 
 Lindy's sails and left them flapping. 'T was 
 like a privateer alongside a Jersey coasting 
 schooner and her spirit and her temper, I 
 liked 'em all. 
 
 " She 's not the sort to care for a swab 
 like Jim Downs, not for a minute," thinks I. 
 And this shows I did n't understand her any 
 more than any other woman. As I was 
 working upon a sail that wanted the needle, 
 I kept an eye her way. Once she looked
 
 58 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 around and caught me and I could see she 
 remembered my face. They gave her a 
 cabin almost amidships that the purser's 
 clerk and Jim Downs had used, and stowed 
 them farther aft. I saw Jim come edging up 
 to her on deck, I guess "t was to show her 
 to her cabin. Says I to me, " now for sport. 
 She '11 keelhaul the little lubber if he stirs 
 her up," thinks I. Well he went to her and 
 bowed very polite and said something or 
 other and she half smiled at him and followed 
 him below like a lamb. 
 
 " Well," thinks I, " I guess there 's some 
 thing in a ribbon shop or a church choir that 
 I don't understand about," and I picked my 
 self up, for my job was done, shouldered her 
 little sea chest and walked below with it. 
 Jim was in my way as I came to the cabin 
 door. 
 
 " Out of the way mate," says I, " here 's 
 the lass's trunk." 
 
 " I '11 put it inside for the lady," says Jim, 
 very airy, and saying lady very hard ; to let 
 me know the way to speak to her, perhaps.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 59 
 
 " Thankee," says I, " I carried it down 
 and I '11 just set it inside for her." 
 
 She came to the door just then. 
 
 " Take the chest, Mr. Downs," says she, 
 acting as if she did n't see me. Well I 'd 
 naught else to do, so I handed the trunk to 
 Jim and stood there a minute, awkward like, 
 waiting I guess for a " thank you." She held 
 out her hand to me and I took it for I 
 thought she meant to shake hands. Blast 
 me but she dropped a sixpenny bit into it. 
 
 When I 'm angry I 'm quicker to act and 
 think than when I 'm in good humor, for 
 then I 'm a bit lazy and slow. 
 
 " Thankee, Miss," says I, very stiff, " but 
 you 've mistook me I 'm an able seaman 
 this is the ship's boy here you are Jimmy," 
 and I took his hand, shoved the coin into it 
 and shut it over it so hard he half cried out. 
 Then I walked forward pretty sure I 'd done 
 an all round smart thing and at the same 
 time red hot at the girl's sauce. 
 
 By-and-bye I got cooler and then I saw I 'd 
 passed on to Jim the insult meant for me
 
 60 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 and that he 'd not deserved it more than I 
 had, and, too, that I 'd laid a heavy hand 
 on a little fellow, not man enough to clear 
 scores with me. Well, if I 'm wrong I '11 
 say so. Back I went to the girl's cabin. 
 Jim was there yet, hanging round, helping 
 this way or that. I came up and put my 
 hand on his shoulder. 
 
 " Mate," says I, " a few minutes back I 
 miscalled you and put on you the cut that 
 was meant for me. I was wrong to do it 
 't is no more your duty to fetch and carry 
 baggage than mine, and I ask your pardon," 
 says I, red by now, and getting angry again 
 for the girl stood in the doorway looking at 
 us cool as you wish. Jim did n't speak up 
 at once but she did. 
 
 " Mr. Downs," says she, " he 's asking 
 your pardon and now I daresay he '11 be 
 wanting the sixpence back." 
 
 " Well, my man," she says to me, very 
 patronizing, " here it is again." 
 
 I was minded first to go about and have 
 no more to do with her, but of a sudden a
 
 Will o' the Wasp 61 
 
 whim seized me. " I '11 be even now," says 
 I to me, and I took the sixpence. " I '11 
 take it, Miss," says I, smiling, and looking 
 straight in her eye, " and as I see there 's a 
 hole in it I '11 wear it round my neck to re 
 member you by. Many thanks to you, 
 Miss," says I, laughing as I turned and 
 walked forward again. After a few steps 
 I looked round. She caught my eye and 
 I was surprised she did n't look angry as I 
 thought she would. I guess I 'd hit the 
 right way to deal with her but I did n't know 
 it then. 
 
 When I saw Jim Downs next I went up 
 to him. Somehow I felt more friendly 
 towards him than I had ever before. Now 
 this is a strange thing and a queer hitch 
 enough, that though I saw a man trying to 
 get the weather of the rest of us lads, me in 
 chief, with the lass, and hit as I surely was 
 by the first shot she fired, here was I actually 
 running alongside of him and being as civil 
 with him as if he 'd been worth my powder. 
 And why? Just because I wanted to talk
 
 62 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 with some one who talked with her. Just 
 because I thought in some way his knowing 
 her might help me too. I knew the fellow's 
 ways and that he 'd be thick with her before 
 long. For Jim had good looks, and a trim 
 little figure. He brushed his hair straight 
 up, and wore little whiskers like those he 'd 
 seen in a picture of Commodore Perry, and 
 he used to shift his light blue eyes in a way 
 that he thought brought him luck with 
 the girls. Then as I Ve said, he 'd a sweet 
 voice. 
 
 "Well, Jim," says I, "what d'ye think 
 of the passenger? " 
 
 " Miss Barker?" says he. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Why she 's a very sociable young lady," 
 says Jim. 
 
 " I 'm glad you think so," says 1, " for, tell 
 you the truth, mate, she struck me like a 
 little catamaran." 
 
 " I hope the boys won't annoy her," says 
 he, looking as if he thought it likely. 
 
 " No danger," says I, " don't fret yourself."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 63 
 
 " Bill," says he, quickly, " you ain't a-go 
 ing to wear that sixpence, are you ? " 
 
 " Yes," I says, " that I am. It 's good 
 pay for the raking she gave me all for doing 
 her a favor. Yes I am," says I, "what 
 of it ? " 
 
 " Oh, nothing," says he, " only she feels 
 mighty bad about it, and thinks it might 
 look as if, as if " 
 
 " As if she really gave it to me for that 
 use, hay ! " says I, " Well, 't will serve her 
 good and right. She '11 know more next 
 time than to be insulting a decent seaman," 
 says I. 
 
 I was a little hot again, and of course when 
 I cooled, I felt different. " Jim," says I, 
 when I saw him next, " tell me what she 
 said about that sixpence again." He told 
 me. " Well," says I, " I 'm going to give it 
 back to her," and I started for the com- 
 panionway. 
 
 " Hold on," says Jim, " better give it to 
 me she wont see you. Let me take it." 
 
 " Not if I know it," says I, " she shall
 
 64 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 have it if she takes it herself, no other 
 way." 
 
 I started to go below when he ran after 
 me and caught me by the arm. 
 
 " Look here," says he, quite loud, hoping 
 to be heard by the officer of the deck, " don't 
 you go to annoying that girl." 
 
 " You go to blazes," says I, and slung my 
 arm round. He let go and as luck would 
 have it a roll of the ship sent him sprawling 
 into the scuppers. I went on laughing. 
 When I got to the door of her cabin I stood 
 a minute, then knocked. I felt a little 
 strange, and just a trifle the way I felt later, 
 when we went into action with the Reindeer. 
 She called out, " What is it, who 's there ? " 
 
 " William Fry, Miss," says I, " with your 
 sixpence." 
 
 " What of it," says she very tart. 
 
 " Why," says I, " Jim Downs told me 
 you 'd been worrying for fear I 'd be wear 
 ing it round like a token." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Do you suppose any man would believe
 
 Will o' the Wasp 65 
 
 I 'd give you or any other aboard this ship, 
 ' a token, ' " says she. " You must think 
 pretty well of yourself Mr. William Fry," 
 she says, and laughs again. 
 
 I took the sixpence and wedged it between 
 the door and the jamb. " Here it is," says 
 I, " keep it or leave it, 't is the last time I '11 
 put my nose in a way to be pinched." She 
 said something else I could n't understand. 
 I went away and as I went I heard the door 
 open and shut. I stole back on tiptoe and 
 the coin was gone. 
 
 I got on deck just in time to see the end 
 of the brig Neptune. Everything that was 
 of much value we brought aboard save the 
 cargo, then set her afire. As our boat's crew 
 came over the side and we stood awav I heard 
 some one curse near me, and saw the mer 
 chant captain looking at the burning craft. 
 There were tears running down his face, and 
 his mouth was full of the kind of word that I 
 heard slip out. I did n't blame him. There 
 was his ship gone to smoke and ashes with 
 her cargo all aboard and he a prisoner. Just
 
 66 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 then at this minute the lookout sights another 
 sail, and the Neptune was forgot by all of us 
 in a minute. 
 
 One ship burnt, and another to chase and 
 burn, perhaps a fight, or run for it our 
 selves, that 's what the life on a cruiser 
 means, and as the sails were shook out and 
 the breeze came fresher, and I lay out on the 
 mizzen yards spreading the white canvas 
 that always smells so good to me, I was glad 
 I 'd shipped, and glad of life, and wanted 
 no better, for the minute, than I had right 
 there.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOW WE TOOK THE "REINDEER" BRIG-O'- 
 WAR. 
 
 \A/E took the fresh sail we sighted and 
 hardly had we laid her to, and thrown 
 a crew into her, but another and another 
 rose out of the sea against the sky line. 
 'T was like gunning in the old salt marshes 
 down Biddeford way a plover gets up right, 
 then left, then just ahead, and you hardly 
 know which to let drive at. 
 
 But we lost no time when once we 
 singled out our bird. Three prizes we got 
 in as many days and scuttled or burnt 'em 
 all. I don't intend to keep log of our prizes 
 except they be ships of war. I Ve another 
 journal home in Biddeford of my cruise along 
 with Captain Porter and there 's nothing in 
 it but yarns of the ships we hove to and 
 67
 
 68 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 burnt or scuttled. This book is to tell of 
 another kind of work, and I only note the 
 ships we took, without saying more about 
 'em. I spoke of the Neptune because she 
 was our first haul and because of Nancy 
 Barker. Now for a different story. 
 
 'T was the 2Oth of June, and a gray day, 
 but very smooth. We were not far from 
 latitude 48, longitude 11, and were hot on 
 the track of two merchant ships that were 
 doing their best to get away. 'T was in the 
 early morning about four, when lookout 
 sings high and loud, and in a tone that 
 did n't mean more merchantmen : 
 
 " Sail ho ! Sail on the weather beam ! " 
 
 The captain was on deck. He 'd heard 
 the cry, and the tone in it, and up he comes 
 with his glass. 
 
 " Nor' nor' east, sir," says the boatswain's 
 mate to him, and I saw him level the glass 
 in that quarter. 'T was my watch on. 
 Presently he took the glass down and looked 
 at a midshipman, Mr. Geisinger, who stood 
 by. He was smiling, that pleasant smile he
 
 Will o' the Wasp 69 
 
 had when pleased, and sure enough he was 
 pleased this time. He said something to 
 the middy, and then let him take the glass. 
 He looked, and handed it to the boatswain's 
 mate. In a few minutes the word came 
 forward that we 'd sighted one of the King's 
 ships this time, and not too big for us. So 
 all knew what that meant. 
 
 In a short time the news got below and 
 through the forecastle, and the men came 
 tumbling up. 
 
 " Where is she, Bill ? " they 'd call, and 
 " What does she look like? " Old Josh was 
 pulled a dozen ways. 
 
 " Can you see her, Josh? Is that her?" 
 
 " No, you lubber, that 's a merchantman." 
 
 " Well, that 's her, then." 
 
 " A merchantman too, matey, where 's 
 your eyes? " 
 
 " I see her, I see her ; will she give us a 
 fight, d' ye think ? " and all that. The new 
 hands were excited, but I think not one of 
 them was scared. If one there was, his 
 name was Bill Fry, and he 'd seen a man's
 
 ;6 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 head knocked into scraps by a round shot 
 once, and knew how such things looked. 
 Among the old hands there was n't so much 
 stir. They knew what a sea fight meant. 
 But I '11 not say one of them was scared. 
 They were not the kind. Very little shout 
 about 'em, not much brag, but " stand-bys " 
 all, who 'd swung cutlass and cleared away 
 with the boarders from the days we licked 
 the Tripolitan niggers, to this cloudy June 
 morning. 
 
 The captain was watching her every 
 minute and the day was breaking fast. Sud 
 denly a sort of half cheer came from the quar 
 terdeck, and soon we knew the cause. The 
 stranger was standing for us, coming right 
 down too as fast as the light breeze would 
 bring her. She 'd seen us, for her course 
 was changed of a sudden. 
 
 " Now, my lads," says old Josh, to a knot 
 of the green ones, " that 's the way with the 
 British navy. The quickest way to find out 
 who you be 's to come and see. She 's com 
 ing ; and there 's some of you may wish you
 
 Will o' the Wasp 71 
 
 was back to Portsmouth before two bells," 
 says he. " They 're damn inquisitive," he 
 says, laughing, " those King's ships, and if 
 you don't play pretty sharp with your pikes 
 and cutlasses 't would be like their cursed 
 impudence to come right aboard, and be 
 pretty cross with you all." 
 
 We knew by his look that he did n't ex 
 pect a call of the kind without our having 
 some say about it, and we were getting a 
 streak of John Bull's cocksureness ourselves. 
 We 'd heard a good deal of the Constitution, 
 and the United States, the Hornet, and the 
 first Wasp, and little enough of the Argus, 
 or the Chesapeake, and I guess there was n't 
 a man aboard, unless 't was Downs, and he 
 was only a man in a way of speaking, 
 who had a fear as to what would be the 
 upshot of the fight. And yet the breakfast 
 many of the men put in was light. Some 
 may say this is a mark of fear, but 't is noth 
 ing of the kind. It is a sort of excitement 
 and looking forward, as it were, to what is 
 going to call for all the nerve a man has got.
 
 72 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 It 's the heart in a man working hard, and 
 the stomach can't be looked to be at its 
 best. With many a lad, too, V is fear of a 
 certain kind, the kind that dreads lest he 
 will not play the man at the right time, and 
 that 's the worst fear of all. 
 
 One thing was pretty trying to the green 
 ones, that was the length of time the ships 
 took getting together. She had stood for 
 us soon as she made us out, and we 'd stood 
 for her ; but the breeze was so light 't was 
 noon and later, before we began to get into 
 fighting distance. 
 
 I 'd forgot about Nancy Barker. She did n't 
 come on deck till along in the forenoon. 
 She had some acquaintances among the 
 crew of the Neptune to whom she talked. 
 Of course news got to the prisoners that we 
 were going to have a fight on our hands, 
 and there was plenty of excitement. Among 
 them now there was lots of unpleasant 
 feeling, but I could n't blame 'em. There 
 they were aboard of us, non-combatants, but 
 just as likely to stop a round shot or be
 
 Will o' the Wasp 73 
 
 keeled over by a splinter as if they were n't 
 and by their own countrymen, too. 'T was 
 hard enough. 
 
 Nancy Barker, who by this time had got 
 pretty used to such of the men as naturally 
 came athwart her, was full of excitement, 
 but kept quiet. She had got into a way of 
 coming on deck and sitting by the main 
 hatch, with some kind of work in her hands 
 which she never worked on, but always car 
 ried. Old Josh said to her, she treated 
 him decently, he was one of the few she 'd 
 talk to at all : 
 
 " Miss Nancy, you carry those signals to 
 fool folks," says he, "just as a ship-o'-war 
 hoists bunting to make a chase believe she 's 
 a merchantman," says Josh. 
 
 " D' ye think I 'm chasing you, you bloomin' 
 old flushinger?" she 'd say, and he 'd laugh 
 fit to die. He and the other old lads made 
 a great pet of Nancy, but with the younger 
 men, except Downs, 't was nothing at all 
 she 'd say, or if anything, 't would be some 
 thing that would make 'em wish she 'd kept
 
 74 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 still. She was that nice to Downs that I 
 wanted a dozen times a day to drop him 
 astern for shark bait. And the little beggar 
 grew so cocky that I used to wonder he 
 did n't forget to salute his officers. But 
 I 'm going wide again. 
 
 'T was during the forenoon that Nancy 
 came on deck. She 'd got a glass, through 
 Jim, I guess, and began to examine the 
 stranger. He was getting close enough now 
 for us to see he was a brig-o'-war, carrying, 
 to all appearances, ten guns to the broad 
 side. He could see us too, of course, and 
 what we were, but that did n't bother him a 
 bit. He could see we were more than his 
 weight, but perhaps he 'd been used to fight 
 ing Frenchmen, or had his head full of the 
 truck some English reports were loaded with, 
 about Yankee ships winning only by luck or 
 great odds, and that we were really cowards 
 after all. 
 
 Perhaps he was just pluck, and grit, and 
 sand, and was hunting for a fight. And I 
 guess that last is about the truth.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 75 
 
 Nancy looked for a long time, then she 
 turned to an old chap who stood by, and 
 said : " I know her and you 'd best turn 
 tail while you can 't is Captain Manners," 
 she cried, giving way to her excitement, and 
 laughing and catching her breath in half 
 sobs, while the tears came into her eyes: 
 " his crew 's called the pride of Plymouth, 
 and I know many a man of 'em. Better tell 
 your captain to get off while he can," she 
 calls to old Josh, and then down she sits and 
 cries. 
 
 Well, never a choke had been in her voice 
 nor a tear in her eye all the days she 'd been 
 aboard in a trying place for a girl alone. 
 She must have been as ignorant of what 
 she 'd have to expect from us Yankees as 
 the crew of the prize, who looked upon us 
 as pirates in a way. But she never weak 
 ened, till this day, and then only when she 
 saw her own flag and the ship she knew. 
 They were tears, not because she thought 
 her troubles, such as they were, were going 
 to be ended, but because we were going to
 
 76 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 see what a British ship-of-war could and 
 would do, and to be punished for our im 
 pudence. 
 
 I knew this, and I liked her the better. 
 Of course she had to go below in a few 
 minutes, for we had no room for women on 
 the deck just then. As she went, I passed 
 close to her. She used never to notice me, 
 though I felt sure she knew when I was 
 about. This time she looked my way, and 
 for my life I could n't help putting out my 
 hand. 
 
 " Won't you wish me good fortune ? " I 
 says. 
 
 "The good fortune to see Plymouth jail 
 in a couple of days," says she, with a shot 
 out of her eyes. 
 
 " Well," says I, " if I do, you '11 may be 
 give me a sixpence now and then for grog," 
 says I, not thinking at all of the coin she 
 gave me a few days before. I said it merely 
 to say something. She did n't seem angry, 
 and put her hand in the pocket of her dress 
 with a sort of smile. For a minute it seemed
 
 Will o' the Wasp 77 
 
 as if she would say something pleasant. Then 
 she turned and ran below. 
 
 "Good-bye," calls I, "if I happen to run 
 foul of a round shot I '11 not trouble you nor 
 Plymouth jail" 
 
 This was not all joke on my part. It cut 
 me, why the Lord knows, to say good-bye 
 to the lass who treated me like the deck 
 under her feet. But I knew how thin your 
 skull is against a round shot or grape no 
 larger than a taw ally that boys use at school, 
 and I did n't like to think I might not see 
 that face (though it had given me but half 
 a smile and that but once) when hands were 
 piped to supper. 
 
 As I turned away, up she comes again in 
 the companionway. She sort of signalled 
 me, but I did n't heed it, half thinking I was 
 mistaken, half that 't would mean another 
 speech of the kind, the only kind she used 
 to give me. I thought perhaps she was 
 going to say something civil, for I 'd done 
 her no harm but to admire her, which she 
 knew I did. There was never a woman
 
 78 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 quicker to see when a man admired her 
 than she was. But then I knew she could 
 be and would be pretty sharp tongued 
 and all for no reason at all. So I sheered 
 off. 
 
 All this is n't telling how we came into 
 action with the British brig. Keeping my 
 log as I did 't was hard to bar private doing 
 and thinking out of it ; but all this occurred 
 while the two vessels were making towards 
 each other. 
 
 By now 't was an hour after noon and of 
 a sudden came a sound that took every 
 thought but one from the mind of each man 
 in the crew the roll of the drum, beating to 
 quarters. I got to my place at my gun, 
 't was sixth gun of the port broadside and 
 a short time after, the Wasp went about and 
 stood dead ahead down upon the enemy to 
 get the weather of her. But the British cap 
 tain knew his trade, and twenty minutes or 
 so later, tacked and stood away. Now Cap 
 tain Blakely wanted the weathergage, and 
 the other wanted it too. It was a fine fight
 
 Will o' the Wasp 79 
 
 of seamanship between 'em. Not a gun was 
 fired, no long bowls played. It was trying 
 to our new hands aboard, but they 'd been 
 trained too well to open their mouths. About 
 half past two, the enemy tacked again and 
 came straight for us. I could see that she 
 was taking in staysails and the boatswain's 
 whistle sent our boys aloft. 
 
 " She '11 weather us," says the gun-captain 
 
 . to me, a minute or two later, " she '11 weather 
 
 us yet, no, by the Lord, we 're going about. 
 
 That 's seamanly, that 's right," says he half 
 
 under his breath. 
 
 You could hear the men at the gun breath 
 ing quick and deep but none spoke but the 
 gun-captain. It was, I thought at the time, 
 the hardest half hour of my life. 
 
 "If fight is to come," thinks I, " God send 
 it quick." 
 
 But 't was not yet the time appointed. As 
 we ran off with the wind on our port beam, it 
 seemed to some of the lads that we were 
 trying to get away ; a low murmur came 
 from one or two of the guns, and then I
 
 8o Will o' the Wasp 
 
 heard some officer's voice, sharp and deter 
 mined but taut with excitement : 
 
 " Quiet, there, quiet, damn you you '11 
 get fight enough, quiet now." 
 
 Up went the flying jib on the British brig 
 and she began to creep up. It must have 
 pleased her to seem to be chasing a sloop of 
 war, yet from what I saw of her fighting, I 
 guess she 'd ha' chased a 74, if it had n't 
 waited for her. But we were n't worrying 
 to get away, not a bit. Suddenly, when she 
 was inside of a hundred yards from us, there 
 was a report, a swarm of grape and round 
 shot sang over the little stretch of sea be 
 tween us, and crashed into our hull and 
 rattled about the shrouds and deck hamper. 
 
 There was never a sound on the whole 
 ship but the noise of a few bits of wood, a 
 rope end or two falling on deck ; no man 
 stirred. The ships still kept their course 
 unchanged. 
 
 Again there came the boom of a gun, and 
 again the shot whistled about us. A man 
 at number ten gun gave a short, low cry, and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 81 
 
 gripped his arm, and the blood ran down 
 upon the white deck. There was a word or 
 two from the officer of the section, the 
 wounded man went below and a new man 
 stood in his place. 
 
 Again came the report, they were work 
 ing a shifting carronade on us, and not a 
 gun could we train, running as we were, to 
 answer ; then again, and still there was not 
 a brass mouth spoke for us. The men 
 were red at the guns, not pale. Rage had 
 got hold of 'em, and a mighty wish to talk 
 back. At the fifth discharge of the carron 
 ade, which was well aimed and did damage, 
 stoving in a boat, ripping and cutting the 
 sails, and laying three men in the scuppers, 
 I looked at the captain of the gun 't was 
 but a look, I said nothing, but he was savage 
 at the delay. 
 
 " Shut up," he said, as though I 'd said a 
 word, " we '11 fire on orders, not before!" 
 
 I heard the men at several guns curse to 
 themselves, and many of them looked at their 
 officers with eyes that fairly begged. But 
 
 6
 
 82 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 not a gun nor pistol shot came from the 
 Wasp. She went on her course like a dumb 
 beast, when suddenly, for Blakely saw that 
 the enemy would not get upon his beam, our 
 helm was put a-lee, and we luffed. As our 
 guns began to bear, the order came to fire 
 from aft forward as the guns bore. 
 
 " Now, then, it 's our turn," yelled the cap 
 tain of the first gun, and with a roar that 
 shook the ship, the firing ran along the port 
 side. Each crew yelled at the discharge, 
 and worked like devils at reloading. If it 
 was a long time waiting for the ship to get 
 to firing, 't was a lifetime to me from the 
 time number ten spoke up till 't was the turn 
 of six. The sweat fairly stood upon our 
 faces, the mouths of the men twitched, and 
 their eyes glared like cats'. 
 
 " Now," shouted the captain of our gun, 
 with a curse that he did n't know he spoke, 
 and old six let go her message. 
 
 " Load ! " we loaded " fire ! " we fired ; 
 load and swab and fire, again and again, 
 God knows I can't tell much what went on
 
 Will o' the Wasp 83 
 
 except by our gun, and 't was nothing but 
 load and fire there. The ship shook with 
 each broadside, and we saw nothing but 
 smoke before us, with now and again dots 
 of flame when the guns of the brig blew a 
 passage through. They were fighting hard 
 as we, may be harder, for our weight was 
 heavier. We were creeping along in the 
 light wind, closing nearer and nearer all the 
 time. Ten minutes, they tell me, was all I 
 lived till the first lull came well, it might 
 have been only one, or it might have been 
 an hour for I did n't seem to live, but 
 only to be one of a lot of grimy devils, 
 hauling, swabbing, lifting shot, and cursing; 
 a crew out of hell. 
 
 Of a sudden, through the smoke, we saw 
 the bows of the brig, splintered and riddled, 
 her flying jib a bunch of ribbons, and all her 
 ropes hanging loose. The two crafts were 
 nearly touching when the enemy, with his 
 helm a-weather, ran us aboard on the port 
 quarter. We saw the boarders through the 
 smoke run forwards, we saw our marines
 
 84 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 come hurrying aft. Some of the lads at the 
 guns jumped to join them, and had to be 
 fairly hauled back. The great moment was 
 coming; 't was not gun for gun, but man 
 to man, and it was hard to stand by our own 
 work at the guns. 
 
 Under the bulwark the boarders were 
 huddled, cutlasses drawn, and back of them 
 our lads with the pikes. And now with a 
 grating and grinding the vessels came to 
 gether, and through the open ports, panting 
 hard with excitement, and rage, choking with 
 the foul-smelling smoke from the cannon, 
 the two crews hacked and thrust and yelled. 
 
 Onto our bulwarks they came swarming, 
 cutlasses rattled against cutlasses, pistols 
 barked, and pikes pushed the foremost 
 back, but not without pay for it, and not 
 till the best of 'em were killed, or down. 
 
 'T was so near my gun I saw it all. I '11 
 never forget the look of those bull-dogs as 
 they came aboard, and the devilish earnest 
 way our lads went at them. 'T was bull 
 dog and bull-terrier, both 'much the same
 
 Will o' the Wasp 85 
 
 breed. They looked like us, they cursed 
 like us, they fought like us, and if we did 
 beat 'em off, we did n't follow 'em, or Lord 
 knows we might a' had to eat the same 
 pudding. 
 
 But they came back, they came back, 
 though it must have been plain to 'em by 
 now that we were too heavy for 'em and 
 outnumbered 'em nearly three to two. 
 
 " Look there," shouted my gun captain 
 suddenly, and there in the rigging, working 
 his way to where he might board us, stood a 
 man, in officer's uniform his face pale and 
 bloody, his hands that gripped his cutlass 
 red and black as well, his smallclothes 
 soaked in blood from a cruel shot in the 
 thigh, and he staggered as he clutched the 
 r igg m g 5 but game, game ! 
 
 " Come on, lads, come on," he shouted, 
 " once more and she 's ours ! " 
 
 " Follow the Captain, huzzay ! " yelled 
 the men climbing up about him. 
 
 Then the. Captain, for 't was Captain 
 Manners himself, flung one hand to his
 
 86 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 head and, with his sword still clenched in 
 his fist, fell back dead upon his own deck. 
 A ball from our mizzen-top had stopped the 
 life of as brave a man as I ever saw, bar 
 none. 
 
 'T was our turn now, and over the sides 
 we boys went. In a minute we were hot at 
 it on the Reindeer s deck. The British had 
 fallen back at their captain's death, but they 
 were of the right breed. Pistol, cutlass, and 
 pike all going hot, and the spatter and ping- 
 pang of the bullets from the top men drop 
 ping all around. But 't was not for long ; 
 number, and good luck, yes, and clever 
 fighting, together was too much, and in a 
 few minutes the decks were cleared of all 
 who could stand, and the brig struck. And 
 who surrendered her ? The Captain's clerk, 
 the highest officer left able to do so ! 
 
 I Ve but little to say of this fight beyond 
 what I saw of it. I was in it, one part of it, 
 and I know when I say 't was desperate hard 
 work I 'm telling no lie. We 'd eleven men 
 killed and fifteen wounded, the Reindeer
 
 Will o' the Wasp 87 
 
 thirty-three killed and thirty-four wounded. 
 Her bulwarks, boats, and upper works were 
 wrecks. " Pride of Plymouth," I heard 
 again, her crew was called. Well, Plymouth 
 may well be proud of them, and all England 
 too, say I. 
 
 I was hurt a little myself a splinter hit 
 me in the shoulder, knocking me down, but 
 doing little harm besides laming me for a 
 week or two. I went below as soon as the 
 brig struck, for I was dying for a drop of 
 water. 
 
 Out of her cabin amidships came Nancy 
 Barker and ran towards me. 
 
 " Well," says I to myself, " she 's glad to 
 see I 'm not hurt bad, I guess," uut she 
 was n't thinking of me. 
 
 " Well," she cried, " so you Ve struck at 
 last, have you ? " 
 
 I stared. 
 
 " Of course you have, I tell you," she 
 almost screamed, stamping her foot " the 
 fight 's over." 
 
 I was sorry for the lass. " Yes," says I,
 
 88 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 gently as I could, " the fight 's over, Miss, 
 but we have n't struck." 
 
 " I don't believe it," she cried, " I 'm going 
 on deck to see." 
 
 I caught her by the arm " 'T is no place for 
 you, Miss," I said, " and there 's danger, too, 
 from falling ropes and halyards may-be " 
 
 " I 'm going on deck," she said again and 
 pulled away from me and ran up the hatch. 
 Right across the top, dead and bloody, lay 
 what had been poor Tim Stevens. She 
 stopped, screamed, and almost fell back. I 
 was close to her and helped her down. 
 
 " Go to your cabin, Miss," said I, " in 
 God's name. 'T was your flag was struck, 
 but your Plymouth lads fought the best 
 men could, and if Captain Manners had 
 lived " I was going to lie a bit to comfort 
 her, and say if the British Captain had lived 
 the fight might have gone his way ; but 
 truth is 't was a lost fight, gallant as it was, 
 from the first gun we fired. 
 
 " Captain Manners dead," says she, " and 
 all his crew ? "
 
 Will o' the Wasp 89 
 
 "Not all," says I, "but a good half." 
 She was very pale and quiet now and went 
 back to her cabin. Thinks I, " she 's got a 
 sweetheart in that ship's crew." 
 
 Well, we burned the prize the next day 
 she was too cut up to keep and we licked 
 our own wounds, so to speak, and gave our 
 own poor boys and the Reindeer's dead the 
 sailor's burial they had earned. 
 
 To some folks the thought of slipping off 
 a plank with a shroud of canvas and a shot 
 at your feet is fearsome. But not to me. 
 I 've known seafaring men to die asking to 
 be laid in a churchyard, under green grass. 
 None o' that for me. I like the shark better 
 than the worm, and clean green salt water 
 is better to be mixed up with than the 
 muck or loam of a village graveyard. Will 
 I be the more forgot because there 's no 
 tombstone to me, nor no rhyme telling what 
 a fine man I was and how I steered a straight 
 course to heaven ? Not I. Out of sight is 
 out of mind whether you lie in the half acre 
 about the meeting-house or drift with the
 
 90 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 currents of the salt sea. And for me, let me 
 have the same burial the two score brave 
 lads from the Reindeer and Wasp got. Side 
 by side they went down into the ocean that 
 they fought over, and that was proud of 
 them ; and with them, commanding the 
 dead, so to speak, went the body of Captain 
 William Manners.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE WAYS OF NANCY BARKER. 
 
 T THOUGHT Nancy Barker had a sweet 
 heart on the Reindeer, and I was right. 
 Part right, that is. For I think she cared 
 but little for him, while he seemed to be 
 half crazy over her. He was a lad no more 
 than eighteen, I should think, and from 
 Plymouth way. Boy as he was he 'd seen a 
 good bit of the world, and picked up tricks 
 of the devil in this port or that. 
 
 He made me think of Jim Downs in some 
 ways, only Jim's cussedness was the quiet 
 kind, and this youngster's was more above- 
 board. I '11 call him Joe, as that was the 
 only name he went by. 
 
 Two days after the fight with \.}\& Reindeer 
 he came up on deck. He 'd been hurt a 
 little, that kept him quiet a while, but now 
 9 1
 
 92 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 he was in shape again, and being a lad, the 
 Captain had let him go about more freely 
 than the other prisoners, whom we had to 
 guard carefully. We kept 'em in irons be 
 cause 't was the safest thing. We could n't 
 keep a guard big enough to take care of 'em, 
 over 'em, and mind you we had the crews of 
 three prize ships aboard as well. Why, had 
 they got loose, they might have made no 
 end of trouble. We were kind to 'em, to 
 such as we could be kind to. Many of them 
 were surly dogs, good haters, I guess, and 
 't was the presence of such that made us 
 careful. 
 
 But it was no trick to see what kind of a 
 craft young Joe was, and we gave him plenty 
 of sea room, and so it came that he found 
 Nancy. She 'd been talking with some of 
 the prisoners who knew her, and she knew 
 well enough that Joe was aboard, but she 
 made no try to see him, indeed, rather kept 
 out of his way. But the second day, as I 
 said, after the fight, she ran upon him stand 
 ing abaft the main hatch. He was smoking
 
 Will o' the Wasp 93 
 
 a dirty cutty pipe, and as he. saw her he 
 started so it fell from his hand to the deck 
 and broke. I was not far off. To speak the 
 truth I think Nancy was going to talk to 
 me when she ran upon Joe. 
 
 Well, he went right up to her and before 
 she could say avast he put his arm round 
 her and kissed her. I looked to see her cuff 
 him, but she was too angry for that. I 
 reckon she only cuffed people she cared to 
 have kiss her. 
 
 " Lookee, Joe," says she, very cool, " I 'm 
 no child any longer, though you may be ; 
 don't you dare touch me again after smok 
 ing a nasty pipe anyhow no, nor at all, 
 d' ye hear." 
 
 I was laughing to myself as much at the 
 mixed-up reason she had for not wanting 
 him to kiss her as at the boy's look of sulky 
 surprise, when the boatswain's mate passed 
 me and, pointing to the broken pipe and 
 spilled tobacco, says, " Have that mess 
 swabbed up," and goes on. 
 
 I steps up to Joe. " Mate," says I, " just
 
 94 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 redd up your muss there, it 's not ship 
 shape." 
 
 " All in good time," says he, very saucy, 
 " I 'm talking to a lady now " 
 
 " Must you always be interfering, in 
 deed ? " says Nancy to me very supercilious. 
 
 "You clean it up now, my boy," says I, 
 dropping my hand on his shoulder, and pay 
 ing no notice to her at all. " This is a ship- 
 o'-war you 're on, where there 's such a thing 
 as discipline." 
 
 " D' ye mean, mayhap, we had none 
 aboard the Reindeer ? " says he, quite hot 
 and bristling up. 
 
 " Oh, come, come, come," says I, taking 
 him round the waist and lifting him over to 
 the hatchway, " you go and get a swab and 
 redd this deck up ; don't you try to fight ; 
 we settled all that two days ago." 
 
 Well, he swabbed the deck. 
 
 Nancy seemed to forget she 'd been angry 
 at him, and stooped down and picked up 
 bits of the pipe and hove 'em overboard and 
 called him poor Joe, who 'd been hurt, and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 95 
 
 said some men did n't seem to know the 
 difference between big and little. 
 
 " Why, Joe," says she, " when that big 
 rough " there she stopped ; I guessed, as I 
 stood near by making believe not to listen, 
 she 'd call me a swab or a lubber, for she had 
 the words pat and was none too nice tongued 
 to use 'em ; but she was going to do worse 
 " coward," she goes on, and then over the 
 course again " that big rough coward had 
 hold of you it made me think of this top- 
 heavy, blooming, disguised frigate and our 
 little Reindeer" says she. 
 
 All this made me two points or three to 
 windward of pretty blasted mad. She 'd 
 called me a coward and, more than that, 
 she 'd miscalled the ship. I came right 
 over ; if she wanted to get me alongside, 
 she 'd run up the proper signal. 
 
 " I 'm about twice Joe's size," says I, try 
 ing to talk cool, " and you won't say we 're 
 twice as big as the Reindeer 3 to 2 is how 
 we 'd rate, I reckon, and that 's not such a 
 thundering big difference, 'specially when
 
 96 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 you remember we knocked her into match 
 sticks and laid out half her crew." 
 
 " Yankee brag," says Nancy. 
 
 " I 'm sorry, though, I touched you, lad," 
 says I, " for you 've a lame arm ; well, so 
 have I, but the Lord did n't build you quite 
 the way he did me, and I 'm sorry I handled 
 you." 
 
 " Legs don't count," says he, sulky. 
 
 " You 're always apologizing for laying 
 hands on little men," says Nancy. 
 
 " Yes," I says, very cool, for I felt they 
 were evening up by what they said for any 
 bad temper I 'd shown. " Yes, I always 
 will too when I do it, I hope," says I, and 
 turned to go. 
 
 " Did you say legs don't count, Joe," says 
 Nancy very pleasant, " why ashore now, a 
 man could run fast on a pair of long legs 
 maybe." 
 
 " But being aboard ship and on duty by 
 my gun I could n't use 'em, I suppose," says 
 I, turning round and going back to her side. 
 " Well, Miss, hark to me. You Ve miscalled
 
 Will o' the Wasp 97 
 
 me and run foul of me now the last time. 
 The Lord knows I Ve not meant to offend 
 you, but you '11 have no more chance to be 
 troubled by me, so here 's good day." 
 
 I was so hot I talked like a fool, I guess, 
 but I said my say and went about my work. 
 Pretty soon I heard her and Joe hard at it. 
 Her temper was none of the best, and may 
 be I stirred it, for she stood all around Joe 
 and raked him from every quarter. By and 
 by Jim Downs passed me. I knew where 
 he was bound, and pretty soon Joe goes by 
 from the other quarter. 'T was Jim's turn, 
 I suppose, and for a long time they talked, 
 and then Jim sang a bit in a low voice, and 
 she sang too. She had a nice, rather deep 
 voice, and they seemed to know the same 
 songs. I soon knew why, for my work I 
 was doing a trick at painting a bit of the 
 bulwarks just forward the mizzen-shrouds 
 brought me nearer them every few minutes. 
 "Yes," Jim says, "my mother was from 
 Bristol." 
 
 " I knew you must be English, at least 
 
 7
 
 98 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 part," says Nancy. " There 's something 
 about you that don't look Yankee." All 
 this was meant for me. 
 
 " Let 's try another song," says Jim, " wish 
 I had my accordeon here." 
 
 " You would n't be allowed to play it in 
 this place if you had, Jim," says I, forgetting 
 I was n't in the talk at all. 
 
 " Ho ! " says Nancy, " that gentleman with 
 the long legs is listening, Mr. Downs. Has 
 he got long ears as well, I wonder." Jim 
 says nothing he knew when to keep his 
 mouth shut but she went on. 
 
 " Do you reckon we could sing a bit more 
 or do you guess we could n't?" This all 
 for me. 
 
 Then they sang a spell. Old Josh came 
 up near 'em and some others, and by and by 
 when they were through he sang a verse of 
 his song, his favorite, about the Constitu 
 tion and the Guerriere. He did it to tease 
 Nancy, and she knew it and talked back very 
 brisk to the old man. 
 
 " Did you ever hear of the Shannon,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 99 
 
 Josh ? " says she ; she was very familiar 
 with him. 
 
 " Yes," says Josh, " she 's the 74 as took 
 the Chesapeake, 38. 
 
 Then Nancy, of course, forgets it 's all fool 
 ing and gets mad. 
 
 " 'T was ship to ship of the same size, 
 every way," says she ; " if there was odds 
 'twas with you Yankees." 
 
 " How about the Chesapeake 1 s crew," says 
 another, " half green hands and Englishmen 
 and a spice of Portugee swabs." 
 
 " Oh, don't tell me of green hands," says 
 she very scornful, "you told me yourself, 
 Josh Sewall, that green hands fight as well, 
 when it comes to fighting, as the old hands. 
 Why even such long-legged Johnny Raws as 
 that yonder with the paint-brush will stand 
 by their guns, for awhile anyhow." 
 
 Of course she had to hit at me. When 
 she was going a bit free I was always right 
 in her course. This time old Josh spoke up 
 for me. Maybe he 'd seen how she kept 
 driving into me.
 
 ioo Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " I agree," says he, " green hands do, when 
 they happen to be the right breed, as the 
 Chesapeake s were not ; not all of 'em, any 
 how. Of course Bill Fry fought well and 
 his gun captain '11 tell you not a man aboard 
 ship fought steadier ; cool and quick he was 
 as any could be." 
 
 I sat there painting, never letting on I 
 heard, but I was caught with a blasted 
 strange feeling in my throat to hear Josh 
 setting me right to her, and the water got 
 into my lights. 
 
 Well, there 's nothing in all this, maybe, 
 to give it room in my log, but it 's of a piece 
 of what went on every day, till a week from 
 the fight with the Reindeer we sighted 
 L'Orient and ran into port for repairs. 
 
 There's little or nothing to say about 
 Nancy during this week, but that she fooled 
 with Joe a bit, then seemed to take up quite 
 steady with Jim Downs. 
 
 Twice she asked me questions and twice I 
 answered 'em without looking at her. And 
 once I looked at her without her speaking
 
 Will o' the Wasp 101 
 
 to me or knowing it, and she turned and 
 saw me. If ever a girl knew when a man 
 was looking at her she was the one ; if he 
 was a young man, anyhow. I '11 bet old 
 Josh might have looked at her an hour and 
 she never turn round. When she caught me 
 looking at her, she rattling on with Jim, she 
 stopped a bit and I noticed that she let him 
 do the talking for a spell. 
 
 As I said, she played a bit with Joe, and 
 the boy was man enough to be pretty sore, 
 when she sent him down the wind, for the 
 other. He 'd forgot his hard feeling against 
 me and would sometimes talk with me about 
 her. 
 
 " She 's high and mighty now," says he, 
 "for why? God knows! She's the same 
 Nancy Barker as I 've kissed a dozen times 
 in her father's tavern, 'The Anchor.' He 
 was a retired mariner, he was. But now, 
 blast my eyes, I 've but had one kiss, an' 
 that I stole, they go to that psalm-singin' 
 son of a Yankee," says he. 
 
 " Shut up," says I, " you 're talking to me."
 
 IO2 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " You be ," says he. " No, not that, 
 
 Bill, you 're not so bad, I mean you 're a sea 
 man anyhow, and s' help me I 'd take you 
 for an Englishman (he thought this would 
 please me) but Downs is a duffer, now you 
 know it. I s'pose he gets the kisses now." 
 
 " Say," says I, " was she an honest girl in 
 Plymouth ?" 
 
 I was kind of anxious as I asked this. I 
 don't know how I thought 't would make a 
 difference to me. 
 
 " Honest enough," says he, " for she never 
 had heart enough to be other. What 's the 
 Captain, your captain, I mean, going to do 
 with the lass ? " 
 
 " Oh, ship her off with a load of you 
 Britishers on the next prize we heave to, 
 maybe." 
 
 He seemed satisfied with this. " I '11 have 
 a chance with her for a while then," says 
 he, grinning " without that chuckle-headed 
 tune-slinger. I '11 take some of the pride out 
 of her ; I '11 teach her to give the go-by to a 
 British seaman for a putty-faced Yankee."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 103 
 
 "Oh, shut up, shut up," says I, "and hark 
 you, mate. You '11 speak of her as a lady 
 while you 're aboard us. I '11 back her to 
 stand you off when we part company." 
 
 We put many of our prisoners aboard a 
 neutral vessel that we hove to, and the Cap 
 tain was for putting Nancy aboard with 
 them. I remember the scene when she re 
 fused to go. " I '11 go in irons, no other 
 way," says she. "You took me out of the 
 Neptune, now you can land me." 
 
 " But, lass," says Josh, for 't was he they 
 sent to tell her the Captain's wish, " we 're 
 bound to France." 
 
 " I don't care," says she, " I 'd rather be 
 there than Josh," she says, suddenly, 
 " don't you see it 's no place, that Portugee 
 ship, for a girl alone," she says, blushing. 
 " Such a mixed ship's company as that ? 
 Now, with you Yankees I 'm well," says 
 she, getting very red " somehow you are n't 
 so rough as many of our own lads." I 
 thought then of young Joe, who was one 
 gf those we 'd put aboard the cartel, and \
 
 104 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 saw, or I thought I saw, why she feared to 
 leave us. 
 
 Well, Josh reported to the officer of the 
 deck, and he told the Captain. The upshot 
 was that she stayed aboard. Captain Blakely 
 saw, maybe, the hard position the lass would 
 be in, among a raft of seamen from a number 
 of crews. And he had himself a young wife 
 at home in Carolina. 
 
 At L'Orient she left us. 
 
 There were many seamen felt as bad as if 
 they 'd really lost a friend. She never failed 
 to say she hated Yankees, but old Josh would 
 tell her 't was all gammon, and she 'd laugh 
 as though she did n't mind what he said. 
 Of course, she needed help when put ashore 
 some one to lug her chest, and do this and 
 that. And of course 't was Jim Downs did it. 
 
 She looked at me when she said good-by 
 to the younger lads, not offering to shake 
 their hands that they 'd 'a' worked off, some 
 of 'em, to please her, but I paid no attention. 
 I 'd made my mind up to it that 't was Jim 
 she liked, if she liked any one, and maybe
 
 Will o' the Wasp 105 
 
 not him. The surgeon, Dr. Clark, a good, 
 kind, and brave man, had found a Danish 
 Protestant minister's family, to take the girl 
 till a chance came to send her properly home, 
 and she had money, quite a stack of it, so 
 't was not hard to find a port for her. 
 
 Well, Jim took her chest on his shoulder 
 and she tossed us good-by, as I said, and off 
 they went. 
 
 " There 's a nice way to leave shipmates," 
 says coxswain, laughing a little, but as if he 
 did n't see anything funny in it. 
 
 " Little catamaran ! " says I. 
 
 " Hay, Bill," says coxswain, " I thought 
 you 'n' she was thick." 
 
 " Not we," says I. 
 
 " Well," says bow, " I 'm glad it ain't that 
 young pup Joe," says he, " though if it 's 
 Downs instead, 't is pup eat pup, six o' one 
 and half dozen t'other," says he, " only may 
 be 't is not Downs. Listen, mates," he says, 
 " I was splicing a rope on the fo'k'sle the 
 night before we sent the cartel off with the 
 prisoners aboard, 'T was just light enough
 
 io6 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 yet to see my work and I was set on finishing 
 it. Up walks Miss and Joe. I could n't 
 hear much they said till she got the red flag 
 up and her temper going. Then she says, 
 ' 'T aint you will do it, anyway/ says she. 
 Then he says something and she laughs kind 
 of airy and says, ' No, nor him,' and then he 
 cursed as the boy could, the rough-tongued 
 sea-pup, and says, ' Then V is Long Legs after 
 all, by thunder ! ' ' 
 
 This was a puzzle to me, for I knew who 
 " Long Legs " meant well enough, but 't was 
 hard to guess what the drift of the talk had 
 been. The other lads knew nothing of the 
 name she clewed to me. 
 
 " So, mates," says bow, " here 's a toss up 
 between Bill and me, for we 've both long 
 legs, hay, old Biddeford rock-cod," says he, 
 and fetched me a little kick as he swung on 
 his oar. 
 
 " Vast there," says coxswain, and we were 
 soon alongside ship. 
 
 We lay near two months in L'Orient. We 
 fitted the ship up in every way, where she 'd
 
 Will o' the Wasp 107 
 
 been damaged, and got her into as fine shape 
 as she ever was. Of course we got liberty 
 to go about town a bit, and one of the first 
 things I did was to go to the parade-ground 
 to see the troops drill. We 'd heard of 
 French soldiers for the last twenty years, 
 and I wanted to see 'em. But they did n't 
 seem to me to have much go to 'em. They 
 seemed like whipped men, and I found out 
 why. They did n't like the old figurehead the 
 French, some of 'em, with English and Rus 
 sian and German help, had set down on the 
 throne. They wanted Bony back and small 
 wonder. 
 
 The first day I watched 'em train I saw a 
 trim-built girl looking at 'em too. She seemed 
 to know most of 'em, and when they got a 
 chance they 'd nod to her or speak a word. 
 
 As often as I 'd get an hour ashore I 'd go 
 to the parade-ground to watch the soldiers, 
 and this girl was there each time. One day 
 I went with Josh. The old man spoke a kind 
 of lingo that Munseer understood ; Josh said 
 't was French, and I says to him :
 
 io8 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " Find out who the lass is." 
 
 Well, he goes right up to her, passes a 
 word or two of " How d' ye do," or " Fine 
 day," maybe, then begins to go ahead under 
 full sail, and she chips in pretty soon and 
 answers back to him, and they laugh and 
 talk and are very sociable. By and by 
 Josh comes back, gets me, and hauls me 
 over. He said a few words, and she curt 
 seyed and smiled very pleasant, then Josh 
 and she began again. 
 
 While we were talking who heaves in sight 
 but Jim and Nancy. She was still waiting 
 for a fit chance to get across the Channel. 
 They pretended not to see Josh and me at 
 first, but I saw they that is, Nancy, kept 
 edging our way slowly, and they came up 
 with us at last, as the French girl left us to 
 cross the ground to some soldiers who had 
 broke ranks and gathered in a knot. All this 
 time I had no idea who the girl was. 
 
 Josh had kept the lingo going, but I could 
 n't understand. Now Nancy comes up and 
 Jim.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 109 
 
 " Well, Josh," says she, quite pleasant, 
 giving him her hand, " who is your pretty 
 friend ? " 
 
 " Oh," says Josh, laughing, " it 's a young 
 lady who belonged to the army, just as you 
 did to the navy before you deserted. She 's 
 been the vivandeer of the Tenth Regiment 
 that 's here now, in Bony's time, and now 
 she 's out of her job. Bill, here, asked me 
 to introduce him, so of course I did." 
 
 " Oh," says she, looking at me very hard, 
 " 't was Mr. William, was it, and how do you 
 do these days ? " 
 
 " Oh, all right," says I, " and much better 
 for seeing you again." 
 
 Now I said this for sauce. I thought she 
 was going to rake me, and I made up my 
 mind to fire back. But what I said did n't 
 seem to worry her. In fact, she acted as if 
 she liked it. 
 
 " Why," says she, " you can say civil 
 things, too, can't you, Mr. Bill ? " as if 't was 
 I had been anything but decent to her. 
 
 " Well, Miss," says I, " I can, I hope, and
 
 no Will o' the Wasp 
 
 if you '11 kindly furl the Mr., and just call 
 me Bill, I '11 take it very kind." 
 
 " What did you say the girl was ? " she 
 asked Josh again, not answering me. 
 
 " A vivandeer," says Josh. 
 
 " And what may that be ? " 
 
 " Why, one as goes along with the regi 
 ment and gives 'em a drink during the fight 
 a little Dutch courage, perhaps, or maybe 
 only water," says Josh. " They wear a kind 
 of uniform like the men." 
 
 " What, breeches ? " says Jim. 
 
 " Something like, my hearty." 
 
 " It don't seem right nor decent," says 
 Jim. 
 
 " Well," says I, " if they Ve the pluck to 
 go among the bullets to help the poor fel 
 lows who are down, I don't care if they do 
 wear breeches," says I. 
 
 Nancy looked at me quite friendly. " Bill," 
 says she, " you 're not such a fool as you 
 might be," says she, then as she walked away 
 with Jim, who looked as if he 'd said the 
 wrong thing, she calls back :
 
 Will o' the Wasp 1 1 1 
 
 " Seems to me I 'd come and see old 
 friends." 
 
 Old friends ! 'T was an odd title to give 
 for what she 'd been to me, but I allowed to 
 go the first chance that came. 
 
 My shore leaves were not so frequent nor 
 so long as I wished 'em to be after this. I 
 used to wonder what kept Nancy in L'Orient 
 all this time. Several times she might have 
 gone home, direct to Plymouth too, but 
 there she stayed. She lived in the Danish 
 parson's family, and there was a daughter 
 about her age who followed her about and 
 seemed to like her. Nancy told Josh she 
 was alone in the world since her father's 
 death, and was minded to see it a bit. Our 
 ship's doctor once in awhile would visit her 
 and talk with her about what to do. Once 
 he talked with me for a spell, of Jim Downs, 
 what kind of a lad he was, and all that. I 
 gave Downs as good a name as I could by a 
 little lying. " He was sober and industrious, 
 when he lived at home," I said, " and sang 
 in a church choir, too," says I. I guessed
 
 1 1 2 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 at the time he thought Jim was what kept 
 Nancy so long in port. That 's what I 
 thought myself, and so did Jim. 
 
 Well, I saw the lass, maybe half a dozen 
 times before we sailed. She used to watch 
 the drills sometimes, and one day I saw her 
 talk a long time in her broken French which 
 she 'd picked up, with the " vivandeer." This 
 was the last day I had shore leave. It hap 
 pened Jim was not with her that day. I 
 learned why, later on. We had got to be 
 good friends, and she told me she 'd been to 
 Bideford in England, that my town was 
 called for. We were talking of this and 
 that, I don't recall what, now, because I only 
 talked so I could have some reason to be by 
 her, and so long as I heard her voice I did n't 
 much mind what she said so it was friendly. 
 'T was true I was hard hit, but as for her I 
 did n't believe she cared a brass farthing for 
 me. At last. I had to say something with 
 sense to it, that is, something to the point. 
 
 " It 's time for me to be at the wharf," 
 says I, " the coxswain 's not a good hand to
 
 Will o' the Wasp 113 
 
 wait, and the third officer 's ashore, too, and 
 he '11 not wait, if coxswain would. I must 
 be saying good-by, Miss Miss " 
 
 " Nancy," says she, in a queer voice. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Nancy," says I, thinking she 
 was prompting me, " maybe we may meet 
 some time again." 
 
 " 'T aint likely," says she, looking at me in 
 a way I could n't understand. " Maybe 
 you '11 be ashore to-morrow again if you 
 don't sail till day after? " 
 
 " No," says I, " 't is the last leave I '11 get. 
 There will be some ashore to-morrow to get 
 supplies and more water, but that 's in the 
 purser's line. He '11 have Jim ashore, likely," 
 says I, looking at her very close. 
 
 " Indeed," she says, very lofty, and it 
 made me feel uncomfortable. I 'm not 
 altogether a fool about women, and I know 
 when a man 's been keeping steady company 
 with a girl like Nancy, and suddenly when 
 it comes time to part, she acts so haughty, 
 it means most generally that he 's riot come 
 up to time, as the saying is, and thinks I,
 
 H4 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " she 's angry with the lad and maybe will 
 ing to be civil to you, Bill, but don't you be 
 a fool, mate." 
 
 So says I, " Yes, Jim '11 be ashore, and 
 and yes, he '11 be ashore," says I, quite red, 
 for I reckon 't was harder for me to hold my 
 luff than I thought, "and good-by, Miss " 
 
 " Nancy," she says again, and looking half 
 vexed and hah" amused, and if so there could 
 be another half, half sorry " Miss Nancy," 
 says I, again, though I saw no reason for her 
 to be prompting me, and took her hand and 
 she gave me a good grip like the brave girl 
 she was, and I left her.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HOW NANCY BARKER SHIPPED ABOARD THE 
 " WASP." 
 
 JVTEXT day of course there were men 
 ashore getting water, getting supplies 
 of the kind that you must have fresh and 
 can't stow away a week ahead of sailing ; and 
 as I guessed, Jim was ashore most o' the day. 
 'T was dark when the last boat came out, 
 crowded with seamen and baskets of fresh 
 vegetables and several casks of water. 
 
 Jim was aboard by then. He had n't 
 stayed till the last boat and it riled me to see 
 him waste time he might have had on shore, 
 lying round the ship, for he did nothing but 
 sit about and look sulky. And he might ha' 
 been seeing Nancy, and would ha' been, had 
 he been a man, thinks I. At last I up to 
 him and says : 
 
 "5
 
 u6 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 "Jim, if I 'd been you, I 'd been saying 
 good-by to that pretty little craft over in 
 the town that you Ve been convoying so 
 much lately." 
 
 "You mind your business, Bill." 
 
 " Well, well, mate, don't be so cocky. I 
 meant no offence but 't is truth I tell you, 
 I think she was expecting something of the 
 kind." 
 
 " What do you mean," says he, looking at 
 me close "you 're trying to crow over me," 
 says he, very low, " but damn you, big as you 
 are I won't take it." 
 
 Well, of all wrong-headed sea calves ! " See 
 here, mate," says I, " I meant friendly, and 
 there 's the end. I don't understand your 
 signals and you can't read mine, so let 's 
 stand away," and with that I left him. What 
 he meant, to save my life I could n't tell. 
 And 't was just about then that the last boat's 
 crew came climbing over the side. 
 
 Next day we sailed, and oh 't was good to 
 be off once more. If the cruise was exciting 
 before, it was doubly so now. For we knew
 
 Will o' the Wasp 117 
 
 that John was looking for us, and his bull 
 dogs would be on the watch. But we knew 
 our ship and the speed that was in her, and 
 we knew our crew and thehandiness of them 
 and the Captain's cool nerve and pluck ; and 
 speed, and skill, and spirit man a cruiser as 
 it should be manned. 
 
 We 'd taken a few new men in port, from 
 a couple of privateers that lay there. Good 
 keen fellows they were too, but with their 
 noses in the wind for Indiamen all the time. 
 Lots of fight in 'em, but greedy dogs. 
 'T was one of these, the second day after 
 sailing, suddenly shouts out : 
 
 " Here 's a stowaway by thunder, and a 
 lass too," and a half dozen men ran to the 
 spot. 
 
 Back from behind some bales and barrels 
 in the waist of the ship who comes out, pale 
 and covered with dust, with her hair fallen 
 down her back, dressed in a kind of boy's 
 togs, but Nancy Barker ! 
 
 'T was a strange sight I never saw the 
 like. The men were nonplussed some
 
 ii$ Will o' the Wasp 
 
 laughed a little, then eyed each other, then 
 looked at me, or for some one else. Josh 
 goes right up to her, and she put her head 
 on his shoulder and sobbed. 
 
 " Room here, lads," says the old man, look 
 ing round, " give the lass air and leave us 
 two." 
 
 The men drew away pretty quiet they 
 seemed to think there was something in th 
 wind. 'T was not old Josh the poor girl had 
 followed off to sea, and I said to myself, " if 
 there 's harm been done, I '11 wring Jim's 
 neck on the chance of being right, if I 'm 
 run to the yard-arm for it." And some of 
 the men, the older ones, gave me strange 
 looks as I went by to the deck. 
 
 What the lass told Josh I did n't hear but 
 half of, not till long after. The officer of the 
 deck heard what was going, at once, and 
 ordered the lass on deck, but the boat 
 swain says a word in his ear, and he listened, 
 looking very grave and angry, and then 
 says he : 
 
 " Have the lass and Sewall, and Downs,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 119 
 
 and Fry to the ward-room at eight bells," says 
 he. Boatswain passed the word to me and 
 by and by to Josh when he came on deck. 
 
 I went up to him and he took me by the 
 arm. Says he, " Bill, you 're a good lad, but 
 what a fool you always was," says he. 
 
 " Well," says I, " what 's this to do with 
 Nancy being aboard the Wasp ? " 
 
 " Well," he says, " nothing that I know of," 
 and then he laughs. I was glad to hear him 
 laugh, for I knew then no harm had been 
 done, so far as he could know. " Well," 
 says I, " you and me and Jim Downs and 
 Nancy go to court this afternoon." 
 
 " So be it," says he, " you '11 hear a funny 
 story then, mate." 
 
 Well, at eight bells in we go to the ward 
 room. Nancy, who had been put in her old 
 cabin, still wore her boy's rig. 'T was not 
 exactly a boy's rig ; 't was breeches and 
 skirt, jacket and cap ; the skirt came to the 
 knees like a long coat. She was still pale, 
 but Lord bless me she had had only a drop 
 to drink and a bite since she came aboard,
 
 I2O Will o' the Wasp 
 
 and small wonder she looked white. But she 
 had her spirit back again, and had got her 
 self up with a ribbon to her collar, and spoke 
 to Jim, and paid little attention to me, just 
 like old times. 
 
 In the ward-room was the Captain, very 
 grave, and with him the Chaplain, the Sur 
 geon, and Mr. Tillinghast, who was officer 
 of the deck when Nancy was found, and Mr. 
 Baury, the third officer. 
 
 " When did you come aboard ? " says the 
 Captain, slowly, looking at Nancy in a sort 
 of pitying way. 
 
 " Last night, your honor." 
 
 " On the last boat ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Mr. Baury, you were with that boat ? " 
 
 " I was, Captain." 
 
 " How could this girl get aboard without 
 your seeing her?" 
 
 " Well, sir, 't was dark and the boat was 
 full of bales and baggage. She is in men's 
 clothes, in a fashion, and I daresay she was 
 hid in the boat before I came aboard."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 121 
 
 " I was, your honor," says Nancy, quite 
 simple like. 
 
 " You wait till the Captain asks you ques 
 tions, lass," says old Josh. 
 
 " What was your reason for coming 
 aboard ? " says the Chaplain. 
 
 " One minute," says Captain Blakely, and 
 leaned over and said something to him. 
 They both seemed troubled and embar 
 rassed, and presently the Chaplain asked 
 her a different question. 
 
 " Have you any complaint against any of 
 the crew, Miss Nancy?" 
 
 "Ah," thinks I, " he has come to it." She 
 spoke up very bold and firm and looked him 
 in the eye. 
 
 " No, sir," she says, short and proud. 
 
 " Well," says the Captain, smiling, and sit 
 ting back as if a load was off his heart, " why 
 did you come aboard, my lass ? This is no 
 place for women. We 're not a packet ship, 
 but a cruiser. I can't be running into port 
 to land you again, and it may be weeks be 
 fore I can put you aboard a vessel bound to 
 your own home."
 
 122 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 Nancy hung her head and seemed a bit 
 taken aback. Then suddenly Josh pulled 
 his fore top-knot and says : 
 
 " If you please, Captain, the lass, because 
 I guess I 'm old enough to be her grandad, 
 has told me somewhat about why she came 
 aboard, if so be I may speak my knowledge 
 about it to your honor." 
 
 " Go on, Josh," says the Captain, good 
 naturedly. 
 
 " Well, sir, it *s this way. She used to see 
 the vivandeer " 
 
 " The what ? " says the Captain. 
 
 " The vivandeer, sir ; the lass as carries the 
 brandy and stingo about for the Frenchmen 
 in their marches and fights." 
 
 "The vivan de yare" says the Surgeon 
 back of his hand to Captain. 
 
 " Well, sir, she 's naturally fond of the sea, 
 and she 'd got used to the Wasp, and knew 
 she was a fighter, and had a top-rate set of 
 officers, including chaplain and surgeon," 
 says Josh, who was as sly as an Irishman 
 and always a hand to joke.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 123 
 
 They were all laughing by this time. The 
 old man was a kind of pet aboard himself. 
 
 " So," says Josh, " she guessed she 'd come 
 aboard and sign as 'vivandeer,' and so she 
 got her uniform and just came aboard. And 
 that 's the yarn, please your honors." 
 
 " But," says the Surgeon, trying to look 
 sober, " what 's your people to do at home ? " 
 
 " I 'm alone in the world," says she, very 
 simple. 
 
 " But," says the Surgeon again, "you '11 be 
 fighting against your own home." 
 
 " I '11 do no fighting," says she. " 'T is 
 not fighting to give lads their grog and pass 
 'em a cup of water in action, surely. And 
 then you 're like my people, too," says she. 
 " I thought once Yankees were all niggers, 
 or yellow men, or red Indians, but you look 
 like Englishmen, and there 's some of you 
 with Devon names too," says she. 
 
 Well, every one laughed at this, and we 
 were all dismissed but Josh. He knew some 
 thing that he did n't tell us, and I made up 
 my mind he was kept to be questioned
 
 124 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 further. I overheard the Surgeon and Chap 
 lain talking, later that day, as I was aft on 
 duty, and one says, " That 's the man " ; 
 whom he meant I did n't know. Then 
 Chaplain says a little later, " But she 's an 
 odd pet to have aboard," and Doctor 
 says, " As safe with this ship's company as 
 if she were at home." And I knew they 
 were talking, then, of Nancy Barker. 
 
 Jim Downs all the time we were before 
 the Captain, had hung his head as if he 
 did n't care what was said or what came, but 
 when Josh said the girl wanted to be a 
 vivandeer and she backed it up in the way 
 she did, he looked sort of surprised, and 
 then seemed to cheer up a good deal. When 
 we all went fonvard again he and Nancy 
 struck up just as if nothing had happened. 
 
 Josh came forward pretty soon, and he got 
 such men as he could about and made a 
 little speech. Says he : 
 
 " Messmates, Nancy Barker has calculated 
 to ship with us as a ' vivandeer.' ' 
 
 " Say it again, Josh."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 125 
 
 " Hold your jaw, Ben. You know what I 
 mean the lass who gets their grog for the 
 lads in action, same as the Frenchmen have, 
 or used to have, anyway, in their regiments. 
 Now she 's as honest a girl as lives, and who 
 ever says no, or acts toward her as if she 
 wa' n't, has got to lick Josh Sewall " 
 
 Here the crowd stamped and clapped 
 " Or Bill Fry hay, Bill ? " 
 
 " Why yes, mate, of course," says I. 
 
 The crowd stamped again. " And Jim 
 Downs," says Josh, with a wink, and the 
 crowd fairly yelled. 
 
 " Maybe," Josh went on, " she won't find 
 much occupation, as the office of ' vivan- 
 deer ' ain't been much as yet in the Ameri 
 can navy, but I presume she will help in her 
 way. Maybe," says the old man with a 
 chuckle, " she can be a mother to you 
 younger ones, a sister to some and," sud 
 denly getting quite hot, " she '11 be a daugh 
 ter to me, and every mother's son of you 
 will treat her as if she were, by the Lord. 
 She makes but one cruise with us, for the
 
 126 Will o'the Wasp 
 
 Captain thinks she must go ashore when we 
 get home, and maybe she '11 adopt the 
 country, and maybe she '11 annex one of 
 Columbia's son's." 
 
 He winked at me when he said this, and 
 some of the lads laughed. I could n't un 
 derstand the old man's ways, and I did n't 
 understand him when he clapped me over 
 the back, as he got off the keg he'd been 
 standing on, and says : " Billy, my boy, you 're 
 a comfort to your mother, I guess not, but 
 you don't know beans with the bag wide 
 open," says he. 
 
 " Lookee here, mate," says I, " you 're too 
 old to be running free across me that way," 
 says I, and he laughed again, like to split. 
 
 All next day I did my best to get along 
 side Nancy, but 't was no use. She was n't 
 just as short and peppery with me as she 
 was at first, but 't was " stand off and don't 
 come too close," in her way of acting. 
 
 It seemed to me, when she said good-by 
 in L'Onent, that she was sorry to see the 
 last of me, yet now when she was where she
 
 Will o' the Wasp 127 
 
 could see me every day she did n't care a 
 ship's biscuit for my company. So the 
 fourth day out of port, I kept my distance 
 and dropped back on my plan of not speak 
 ing to her. She reminded me of some 
 skippers I 'd seen, mighty nice to you till 
 you shipped and went aboard, and tartars 
 once they got you in the fo'k'sle. " She 
 shan't stand off and on this way with you 
 any longer, Bill," says I to me, and so I kept 
 my course and gave her sea room. 
 
 Well, she did n't like that. She could n't 
 see how I could let her alone, I suppose, and 
 wanted to find out. So by and by she comes 
 up to me. 
 
 " How did you like me in the vivandeyare 
 dress ? " says she. She 'd got another kind 
 rigged up by this time. 
 
 " Well," says I, " I can't rightly say that I 
 liked you in it ; 't is well enough for a French 
 girl maybe, but to come among a ship's crew 
 of Americans, why " 
 
 " Why, it shocks you I suppose," says she, 
 laughing.
 
 128 Will o'the Wasp 
 
 " Well, yes," says I, " I can't say it 
 does n't, you see, we 're not used to that at 
 home." 
 
 " Tell me about where you live," says she, 
 suddenly jumping onto the bulwarks, by the 
 foreshrouds, and paying no attention to what 
 I 'd been saying, though I thought 't would 
 anger her maybe. 
 
 " Why," says I, " 't is a town, as you know, 
 called Biddeford." 
 
 " Oh, blast the town," says she in her free 
 way, " tell me about your home any 
 sisters ? " 
 
 " One," says I, " married, and gone away 
 from home." 
 
 " Well, that 's good," says she I stared, 
 and she blushed suddenly all across her 
 face. 
 
 " I mean that 's good it 's right for a girl 
 to marry if she gets a good husband, aint it, 
 Will ? " says she. 
 
 'T was the first time she 'd called me that 
 name, and I liked the ring of it. " Well, yes, 
 I guess so," says I.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " Do you only guess," says she, " can't you 
 ever be sure, I wonder ? " 
 
 I laughed at her she was so saucy and 
 trim sitting there on the bulwarks. " Well," 
 says I 
 
 " Do you ever open your mouth without 
 dropping out a well," says she, laughing at 
 me. 
 
 Well " 
 
 " There you go again." 
 
 " Miss," says I, " do you want me to an 
 swer questions you put to me or to just stand 
 here and fool?" says I, half pleased and half 
 riled. 
 
 " What question did I ask ? " 
 
 " Why, if it wa' n't right for a lass to 
 marry if so be she gets the right man ? " 
 
 " I remember now What 's your answer ? " 
 
 " I say yes, but I say she does n't always 
 get the right man." 
 
 " Then it 's his fault, perhaps," eying me 
 very close. 
 
 I did n't suppose there was anything in 
 the wind ; it seemed to me that she was just 

 
 130 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 using up her time by taking mine, and 
 rattling away at no target at all. So I says : 
 
 " No, not the man's fault that I can see," 
 says I. " She might be just the wrong girl 
 for the right man, maybe, and you can't 
 blame him for sheering off or running away," 
 says I. 
 
 She got very red and was quiet a minute. 
 Then she says slowly : 
 
 " Tell me, do you think I came aboard to, 
 to follow Jim Downs?" She was very red 
 and would n't look me in the face. 
 
 "Why, no," says I, slowly "I, I guess 
 not, I " 
 
 " D' you mean to guess about that," she 
 cried, very angry and looking now right into 
 my lights. " Don't you guess about such 
 things, you thick-headed Yankee," she says. 
 " I Ve wasted time enough on you, God 
 knows. The only man that is a man in the 
 ship's crew is Josh," she says ; " he 's got 
 head, and heart, and aint all arms and legs 
 and blasted guess-work," she says, falling 
 into rough language, which she always did
 
 Will o' the Wasp 131 
 
 when angry. " And you think I 'd follow 
 Oh, I Ve no more time to waste on you," 
 says she, almost crying, and jumps down and 
 walks away. 
 
 I was too surprised and flustered to do 
 much more than go on splicing the rope I 
 was at. "Well, well," thinks I, "if she 
 was n't following Jim who was she? " And 
 she would n't ha' been so angry if he had n't 
 had something to do in the matter. But 
 there 's one thing I don't believe," says I to 
 me, " and that is that there 's anything wrong 
 between the two She 's honest is Nancy 
 if any girl I ever saw was I '11 talk to old 
 Josh," thinks I, " and take a few soundings 
 so I shan't go aground with the lass again as 
 I did just now. Maybe I 'm a blasted fool," 
 says I to me. Just why I felt that way I 
 can't say for my life. But I was beginning 
 to get the feeling on me. 
 
 I 'd a good enough opinion of myself. I 
 was a tall figure of a man, with good teeth, I 
 did n't chew, and a plenty of light hair and 
 blue eyes. Lindy seemed to like me and it
 
 132 Will o' the Wasp. 
 
 did n't seem strange to me. But that was 
 because I did n't care so very much, I guess, 
 for Lindy. Now I 'd a been willing to give a 
 hand for this girl Nancy, if I had n't kept 
 myself down by telling myself 't was no use, 
 and getting help in the job by the way she 
 treated me. And as I felt so for her, so it 
 seemed to me that it would be impossible 
 for her to care for me. I was the sort that 
 looks on the dark side of things in which his 
 heart is 'listed, and that 's the whole story. 
 
 As I sat pretty glum and quiet, puttering 
 away at my job, by comes Nancy again. 
 She carried her head high and came along 
 like a breeze. She was n't going to notice 
 me, but I got up and touched my cap 
 
 " Excuse me, Miss," says I, " but I want 
 to say that I don't think there 's anything 
 wrong between you and Jim Downs and I '11 
 lick the swab who dares think so, out loud," 
 says I, " or to himself, if I know of it." 
 
 She looked at me in a strange way I was 
 going to say my little speech over again, 
 thinking she had n't understood me, when
 
 Will o' the Wasp 133 
 
 she blushed, leaned against the side of the 
 ship, and put her hand to her throat. 
 
 " Do you mean to say that any one dares 
 think so," she says at last quite low. 
 
 " Why," says I, " 't would not be very 
 strange maybe." 
 
 " My God ! " says she, " it never came to 
 my mind till now." 
 
 She looked over the side of the ship and I 
 could see her sobbing. I could n't stand 
 that and I went up to her. " Miss Nancy," 
 says I, and she turned en me 
 
 " So you don't believe there was anything 
 wrong," says she laughing, though her eyes 
 were full of tears, " well, you 're a good char 
 itable soul, Mr. Will," says she, " but don't 
 bother to be championing me," says she, 
 " I '11 look after my own good name. Still 
 I 'm obliged to you," says she, " for your 
 good opinion." So she tacked and stood off 
 and left me, sure I 'd made things worse than 
 before for Bill Fry. 
 
 As soon as I got the chance I ran along 
 side Josh.
 
 134 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " Josh," I says, " Nancy talks to you as if 
 you were a sort of guard een Now can you 
 tell me why she always gets on my weather 
 quarter and fires into me? Is it anything 
 I Ve done ? " 
 
 " Nothing you Ve done," says the old bird, 
 laughing, " mebbe something you Ve left 
 undone," says he. 
 
 " Talk plain, matey," says I, " what 's in 
 the wind ? " 
 
 "Your sails, you lubber," says he, as if he 
 were half angry, " your sails, a-flapping ; 
 what have you been saying to her this morn- 
 ing?" 
 
 I told him what I said and he all but took 
 me by the collar. " You damn thick-head," 
 says he " So you had to insult her as well 
 as " 
 
 " Come now, Josh," I says, " none of that 
 talk." 
 
 " You hear me out," says he, very angry 
 " I '11 tell you something, you blind sculpin." 
 
 " Don't call names," says I. 
 
 " I '11 call you all I want," says he, " and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 135 
 
 you '11 take 'em, for by the Lord Harry 
 you Ve earned 'em all Listen to me, you, 
 Bill Fry I 'm going to tell you what I Ve 
 no right to, maybe, but blast me I can't let 
 things snarl up this way. If you can't see 
 things yourself I '11 be your eyes," says he, 
 very hot. 
 
 " Well, go on when you get your breath," 
 says I, cool, but angry by now, and he looked 
 at me and wagged his head. 
 
 " Oh, Bill, Bill," he says, and laughs of a 
 sudden, " you '11 be the death of me." 
 
 " Look here, Josh," says I, " get your jaw 
 tackle running to rights, mate, I Ve no time 
 to stand here all the morning." 
 
 " You 're mad now," says Josh, " as I 
 meant you should be, for Bill, when you 're 
 mad your brain clears up a bit. You 're too 
 lazy to think much when you 're in good 
 humor, my lad, my lad that 's the fact. 
 Now just keep it up, you dull hearted skate, 
 that 's right, keep mad, I want you to ; but 
 listen " 
 
 What Josh was going to say I did n't
 
 136 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 know, but just as he said " listen," as if it 
 were what he meant, lookout sang high and 
 clear : " Sail ho sail ho sail on the weather 
 quarter." Then in a moment, " Sail ho, sail 
 ho, sail dead ahead." 
 
 Of course every one was looking alive at 
 once, and sure enough, off to our weather 
 quarter, to the weather beam and almost due 
 ahead were sails. Why, 't was a fleet. Every 
 man was alert again with the old spirit. We 
 were game to fight or make prizes, come 
 whichever luck was to be. 
 
 In two hours we found it was not to be 
 our fortune to make the string of prizes we 
 thought we should, and not to fight either. 
 'T was a convoy of ten sail, and the convoy 
 was a 74-gun ship. And yet Captain Blakely, 
 like the man he was, made chase.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 HOW WE TEASED THE "ARMADA" AND 
 SUNK THE "AVON." 
 
 Y\7 HEN I say made chase of course I don't 
 mean that he intended getting too 
 close to the 74, which we afterwards found 
 was the Armada. But he meant to hang 
 about the convoy and pick out a fat prize if 
 the chance befell. 
 
 I Ve watched a butcher's dog, 't was a 
 brindled terrier I recollect, pick a cow out of 
 a lot of cattle with an old bull at their head. 
 For some time they stood him off, huddling 
 up in a crowd with their bows towards him, 
 and then the bull would come charging 
 around and drive the pup off. But he stuck 
 to it, and kept chivvying and worrying, till 
 by and by he cuts out a heifer and off they 
 go. When he 'd got her far enough out the 
 137
 
 138 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 drove he 'd pin her by the nose till his 
 master came up. And this is what Captain 
 Blakely did with the merchant fleet. 
 
 Lying off to windward and astern, he 'd 
 edge up and up, then of a sudden clap on 
 canvas, and stand for the nearest sail ; and 
 she 'd run for the nighest her and the two 
 would crowd for the next ; then the big 
 hulking 74, with her three rows of teeth 
 showing, would put her helm down and come 
 for us, and when she got almost near enough 
 to chuck a round shot onto us, about ship 
 and away we 'd go. 
 
 This was sport, and there was no danger 
 to it. 'T was fine practice in seamanship, 
 and had plenty of healthy excitement about 
 it without letting you fear you might be 
 expected to digest a grapeshot for dinner. 
 The men were gathered in groups about the 
 forecastle, such as were n't standing by to 
 jump aloft or handle the ropes. We were 
 pretty busy watching the fun, and yet had 
 some time for yarning as well. 
 
 While we were beating up towards the
 
 Will o' the Wasp 139 
 
 fleet after having been run off by the line-o'- 
 battle ship for the third time, coming up 
 easy, so as to let the flock scatter, Nancy 
 comes on deck and stood by the main hal 
 yards for a minute, watching the game. She 
 looked very handsome as she leaned against 
 the rail, her skirts shaking in the wind at 
 times, and at times caught about her. She 
 had a sailor's cap on, so rigged that her long 
 hair was held inside it, but a curl or two had 
 fallen outside. I guess she knew how, for 
 't was hanging down when she came on deck, 
 and the wind aint apt to be very high below 
 hatches. She wore a bright blue ribbon at 
 her throat ; that I noticed specially, as it 
 used to be a red one. But " she was going 
 to adopt us," Josh said, and was learning our 
 bunting. 
 
 Well, there were some six or eight of us 
 lying together just abaft the capstan, and we 
 quit looking at the merchantman and their 
 " guardeen " to look at Nancy. Presently one 
 of the men we 'd got from the privateer, a 
 son of a Portugee swab from New Bedford,
 
 140 Will o* the Wasp 
 
 where there 's a nest of the yellow beggars, 
 says something in his nasty, foreign way I 
 didn't hear what it was, but I saw Jim 
 Downs draw off and hit him a wipe with the 
 flat of his hand. Up springs the Portugee, 
 twice the man Jim was, and in a minute he 
 had him by the throat. 
 
 Nancy screamed and ran below. 
 
 I like a fair tussle at times, tho' a man-o'- 
 war's deck 's no place for it between men of 
 the same crew, but 't was an officer's business 
 to interfere, and I would n't ha' spoiled sport 
 except that 't was no fair fight little spindly 
 Jim and the thick-built bull-necked Portugee. 
 I just took him by the neck and pulled at 
 him till he came off. While I held him, Jim, 
 half choked, says, panting hard : " He said 
 she was " 
 
 I aint going to put down what it was, but 
 I got a better hold on him and slung him 
 across the deck. " There," says I, " you 
 dirty, yellow swab ; 't is lucky Jim's hand hit 
 you, not mine. Jim," says I, clapping him 
 on the back, " you 're a better man than I
 
 Will o' the Wasp 141 
 
 gave'you credit for ; here 's my hand, though 
 we aint been very good friends. Well," for 
 he did n't take it, " all right, mate ; 't is a 
 pity for a man with pluck to have malice, 
 too, but " 
 
 Just here I heard a yell from a couple of 
 the lads, and saw them run towards me, and 
 at the same time a feeling as if I 'd been burnt 
 ran along my ribs. Before I could do more 
 than rip out a word, the men were tumbling 
 around the deck atop the Portugee, Pico ; 
 that was the name he went by. Well, another 
 went behind me and hauled the beggar's 
 knife out of my jacket. I could feel the 
 warm blood trickle down my leg, but I knew 
 in a minute 't was only a scratch. The officer 
 of the deck, of course, was on the spot right 
 off, though he had n't seen the first of the 
 shindy, owing to the bigger attraction of the 
 chase. Pico was ironed and put away in 
 the brig to cool off, and I went aft to the 
 surgeon. 
 
 I stripped off my jacket and shirt and he 
 put a bit of plaster on the cut, and asked me
 
 142 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 how 't was it came about. I told him, and 
 gave Jim a good word, for the man's sudden 
 spirit pleased me, in spite of his sulky ways. 
 
 " Well, Bill," says the doctor, " you must 
 lookout for this precious hide of yours ; 
 you Ve got too much depending on you." 
 I laughed. 
 
 " Not I, Doctor," says I. 
 
 " What," says he, laughing, and looking at 
 me very sly, " no wife ? " 
 
 " Not I, Doctor," says I, laughing hearty 
 now. " Nor my mother aint a poor widow 
 woman neither, for dad 's good for twenty 
 year yet, and I 've a brother at home as well." 
 
 " You 're very independent, then," says he, 
 cutting a slip of plaster and laying it on 
 lengthwise the cut. . 
 
 " Yes, sir," says I. 
 
 " No sweetheart ? " he says, taking another 
 side-shot at me out of his lights. 
 
 " No, sir," says I, very quiet, for I 'd given 
 up any thought of Lindy, and gave up easy, 
 too. 
 
 " Well," says he, " now there 's that pretty,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 143 
 
 trim, little privateer, the Nancy Barker, she 's 
 going to settle in America. What do you 
 think of her, now ? " 
 
 Well, I guess I turned pretty red, not all 
 because I was flustered, but part because I 
 did n't allow 't was Doctor's business. Still 
 I had to answer respectful. 
 
 " Well, sir," says I, a-buttoning up my 
 jacket, " she aint been cruising in my latitude 
 and longitude," says I, using the kind of talk 
 he 'd been slingin', " and I guess she 's been 
 cut out already." 
 
 " Who 's done it ? " says he, as he stood 
 by the door to show me out. 
 
 " Well, sir, Jim Downs, if you ask me," 
 says I ; " leastwise that 's my guess." 
 
 " You 're a damn fool, Bill," says he, sort 
 of dry, and opened the door. 
 
 There aint much to do if your officer calls 
 you names but get out of his course, particu 
 larly if you have a temper that makes you 
 itch to talk back, so I went back to the steer 
 age and then on deck. I got there just in 
 time for fun, and for a spell I forgot what
 
 144 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 had just happened and what was like to set 
 me thinking. For some cause, maybe she 
 was n't so fast as the others, maybe she was 
 heavier loaded ; but, whatever 't was, one of 
 the convoy had fallen behind the others and 
 was steadily dropping astern. The Captain 
 had seen her from the first. He had his 
 eyes on her, and without steering so that 
 't was plain what his purpose was, he kept 
 the ship well in hand so as to stand down 
 upon her at the right time. We were so 
 speedy that we could keep to leeward of 
 the fleet and yet reach them handily. Sud 
 denly we went about and beat up into the 
 wind straight for the lagging merchant-ship. 
 How they ran up aloft aboard her ; men 
 swarmed out on the yards, and her extra 
 canvas was shaken out. She was sure we 
 were after her, as we were, but not just 
 then. And pretty soon down from the lee 
 of the fleet, where we 'd drawn her by lying 
 to leeward, comes the 74 with her big-bellied 
 bow, carrying a bone in her teeth, like some 
 overfed yard dog. She let go a couple of
 
 Will o' the Wasp 145 
 
 bow-chasers at us when she thought the 
 range was anywheres near right, and they 
 fell half a mile short. 
 
 John's gunners, barring the men aboard 
 the Shannon, and one or two other crack 
 ships, were n't worth the powder they 
 burned. British seamen could fight at close 
 quarters as well as we could, but they could 
 n't shoot, barring Brook's men and Man- 
 ners's. We paid no heed to them, but beat 
 steady up the wind. When we got near the 
 ship we 'd singled out, we saw them throw 
 ing a lot of cargo over the sides, brass guns 
 and gun-carriages, by thunder, and we knew 
 't was a valuable prize to make. 
 
 Meantime the Armada was coming up to 
 the merchantman from the lee quarter, and 
 we were about a half mile under her stern. 
 I looked to see the Captain make a dash at 
 her, for the 74 was still a good two miles 
 away. But 't would have been a foolish risk, 
 and he knew his business. On we went up 
 into the weather quarter, and the men began 
 to think we were going to give the job up, at
 
 146 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 least so far as this particular ship went. And 
 now the 74 herself acted a bit as if she 
 thought so too. We 'd seen seamen aloft 
 busy at the flying sails, as if she were 
 crowding on all canvas to head us off, and 
 now they began coming below like she 'd 
 given up the notion ; and as we got well to 
 stern and weather of the last craft, we saw 
 her luff as if she 'd got an idea. 
 
 Now the two leading sails were faster than 
 the others and had drawn well ahead. Sud 
 denly Captain Blakely, having got good sea 
 room to the weatherward, comes about and 
 stands in the direction of the two leaders, 
 with a good breeze on his port quarter and 
 the 74 lured down to the tail of the fleet. 
 Half the men aboard the Wasp thought 
 't was the game to cut the two ships out 
 before the Armada could get into distance 
 to protect 'em. The Captain of the 74 was 
 sure of it. About he goes and crowds on 
 up to starboard of the fleet, expecting to 
 meet us round in front of the convoy may 
 be, but right there he made a false reckoning.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 147 
 
 All of a moment the Wasp went about, the 
 boatswain's whistle sent us aloft, every sail 
 we carried was shaken out, and instead of 
 running S. S. W. we bore down N. N. W., 
 straight on the ship we 'd singled out at 
 first. 
 
 Lord, how we flew 't was a fine breeze 
 and we went right ahead of it. The poor 
 merchantman did n't seem to have the life 
 left to run. There was no use. We were 
 almost alongside before the great lubberly 
 line-of-battle ship had got about and fairly 
 headed for us. We luffed, and at the order 
 a boat was lowered away and a crew sent 
 aboard the prize, and in a minute after our 
 boys had climbed aboard, her helm went up 
 and she stood away in company with us. 
 We ran off nor' nor' west across the bows of 
 the Armada, who wore and gave us a half 
 broadside that went wide and high. Old 
 Gridiron flapped from the spanker gaff, look 
 ing wide-awake and merry, as the old bunting 
 somehow always looks, to me anyhow ; and 
 I swear this day it seemed to wear a broad
 
 148 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 smile across its stripes. Well, we tried the 
 trick again, but this time they knew the 
 catch, and content with what we 'd got we 
 went on our course. 
 
 By two bells we were 'way to leeward of 
 the convoy ; by four they were out of sight. 
 
 Life was dull aboard the Wasp for a few- 
 minutes. Life did n't use to be dull for 
 long. Thinks I, now I 'm off duty I '11 just 
 tackle Josh for what he was so blasted set on 
 telling me this morning. I 'd been thinking 
 of what he 'd said, and how the doctor had 
 miscalled me and I was n't quiet in my mind. 
 
 " Here 's Josh," says I to me, " calls me a 
 damn thick-head, and here 's Surgeon calls 
 me a damn fool ; 't is six of one and half 
 dozen of t' other," says I, " and here 's my 
 self with half a sneaking guess that they 're 
 right, though just why, Lord knows, I dorit. 
 But two of 'em anyway are men who Ve seen 
 the world more 'n I, and know a fool when 
 they see him, maybe." 
 
 This part of the reasoning began to make 
 me mad again. " Still," says I, " there 's no
 
 Will o' the Wasp 149 
 
 need of their jaw tackle running so free. One 
 would suppose," says I to me, " that I 'd 
 been hurting Nancy's feelings a purpose, to 
 hear Josh ; and to hear Surgeon you 'd be 
 lieve I did n't know as well as he what a 
 clipper she is. Now splice those two bits 
 together, mate," thinks I, "and see what 
 you get." 
 
 So I thought and calculated till it suddenly 
 came to me that I 'd maybe been rating Jim 
 too heavy and myself too light, and just 
 about then I concluded the next chance I got 
 I 'd square myself with Nancy and lay a new 
 course. 'T was n't long before I got the 
 chance. She 'd not been on deck since the 
 shindy with Pico, but she was up soon after 
 we 'd cut the prize out. At a handy minute 
 I steps up. 
 
 " 'T was a pretty chase and a smart cap 
 ture," says I, " Miss Nancy. It 's a pity you 
 should n't ha' seen it." 
 
 "The deck was n't the proper place for a 
 woman," says she, " with such blackguards as 
 your yellow Yankee is."
 
 150 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " Come," says I, " Miss, he 's a Portugee ; 
 no Yankee would ever," I was going to say 
 " insult you " but she cut in 
 
 " Never mind what he was, or what he 
 said," and shut her mouth close together. 
 
 " Downs was there," says I, " and hit him 
 a good one to teach him manners." She 
 looked at me sort of cold and far-away. 
 
 " Yes," she says, " little as he is, he stood 
 by like a man," says she. 
 
 " And yet," says I, not liking her to think 
 the rest of us were not as keen to take up 
 her fight as Downs, " he 's the only one that 
 heard " 
 
 " Yes," says she, " some little men have 
 quick ears." 
 
 Well, it was enough to rile a parson to 
 hear the girl go on. You 'd suppose that we 
 all sat by and heard Pico abuse her and left 
 it to poor little Jim to take it up. I wanted 
 to tell her the rest of it, and if she 'd been 
 half way like any reasonable girl I ever knew 
 she 'd ha' seen how it all came about, but I 
 knew she 'd think I was blowing my own
 
 Will o' the Wasp 1 5 1 
 
 horn, and talking what she once called 
 Yankee brag, so I said nothing about it. I 
 wanted to have a few words with her with 
 out a quarrel, howsomever, and so I said 
 how it did Jim very great credit, and how 
 his heart was in the right place ; and several 
 other pleasant yarns I spun, thinking to 
 please her. 
 
 " Stow Jim," says she very sudden, and 
 looking up at me, "why don't you tell me 
 about yourself and the cut you got in the 
 ribs? " says she. 
 
 " Well, 't was but a scratch, anyhow, and 
 how did you know of it ? " 
 
 " Surgeon told me," says she, then stopped 
 quick, as if she 'd said too much. 
 
 " How did he come to speak of it ? " says I. 
 
 " None of your affair," she says, very airy, 
 " Surgeon and I are old friends," she adds 
 as if to explain. 
 
 " Well, no offence," I says ; I was anxious 
 to keep on her good side, for she seemed for 
 the minute to be willing to treat me like a 
 white man.
 
 152 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " No, no offence, Bill, not a bit," says she, 
 and laughed. 
 
 " What do you think of Surgeon? " says I, 
 more to keep the talk running than any 
 thing else. 
 
 " Why, he 's a very nice gentleman," says 
 she, " and a good friend of yours, Bill." 
 
 " Is, hay ? " says I, " he called me a damn 
 fool to-day, if you call that friendly." 
 
 " What for ? " says she, lifting her eye 
 brows and looking off to sea. 
 
 " Why," says I, then I got flustered, for I 
 did n't know just how to get away from the 
 question. 
 
 " Come, Bill, you must tell me ; tell me, 
 Bill ? " 
 
 "Well," says I, "he asked me if I f d a 
 sweetheart to home." 
 
 " Well," she says, still looking out to sea 
 ward and blushing just a little. 
 
 " And I says no." She looked at me then 
 and her eyes seemed kind and friendly, I 
 might almost say soft. "Well," she says 
 slowly, in a low voice, "and what did he say?"
 
 Will o' the Wasp 153 
 
 " Well," and now I wanted to back water 
 but I could n't do it, and there was naught 
 to do but go on. " Well," I says, " he says, 
 ' there 's Nancy Barker.' ' 
 
 I thought she 'd be in a rage at this, but 
 she only said, " Well? " 
 
 " And I says, ' She 's well enough,' says I 
 to him, 'but she 's Jim Downs's,' and he 
 says, ' You 're a damn fool.' ' 
 
 I looked at her then to see what she did. 
 She was still looking out the hatch, not 
 seeming to see anything, rather red and 
 looking angry. " Well," I says, " that 's 
 the yarn." 
 
 " That 's the yarn, is it/' says she very 
 slow. 
 
 " Yes," says I, " and I don't call that 
 friendly, do you." 
 
 " Well," she says, " it 's always a friend's 
 act, a true friend's act to speak the truth." 
 
 "What," says I, " you mean " 
 
 " Bill," she says, quite cool and getting up 
 from the step she 'd been sitting on, " if I 
 ever knew a man who could rightly be
 
 154 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 called that name, it 's you yes, it is," she 
 cried suddenly flying into a rage and stamp 
 ing her foot "You 're a great silly baby 
 and a, a damn fool, and that 's what you 
 are," and down the hatch she flies leaving 
 me to wonder and get hot. 
 
 " It 's a nice coil this," says I to me 
 " here 's three people say I 'm a damn fool 
 one 's too old to lick, another 's my offi 
 cer, and the third 's a girl, so I Ve just got 
 to sit by and swallow it and worse yet here 
 am I that 's beginning to think I am one my 
 blessed self and yet to save my life, Bill," says 
 I, " I can't read the signals." I went below 
 for a while, half worrying, half wanting to 
 swear. I was still below when I heard some 
 sound above, and then it came louder and I 
 knew we 'd sighted another sail. The crew 
 were gathered to the sides of the ship, some 
 of them in the main shrouds. Joe Martin, 
 the boatswain, was looking at the skyline 
 with his glass. " There 's three," at last he 
 said, " maybe more merchantmen, lads, may 
 be warships, for they 're looking for us.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 155 
 
 Well, we Ve got a bran-new sting ready," 
 says he, laughing, " eh, boys." 
 
 " You 're right we have, boatswain, and 
 we want nothing better than to use it," says 
 gunner's mate. 
 
 Boatswain shook his head. " We '11 get 
 use enough for it," says he " stinging 's 
 well enough, but not too many at once. 
 Still," says he, " I guess the ship can take 
 care of all she lays alongside of." 
 
 So we went for half an hour or more, 
 every one on the strain, for some way we felt 
 pretty sure we were in for more fighting, and 
 at about seven the chase, which was the most 
 weatherly of the four sail, began to signal 
 with lanterns. 
 
 " There 's a man-o'-war in the flock," says 
 boatswain then ; " even if the one we 're 
 chasing, is n't, for she 's signalling for aid." 
 
 The word was passed just then for boat 
 swain, and he went aft. In a few minutes he 
 came back and spoke to several of the gun 
 captains. Then the word got among us that 
 we were bearing down upon a brig-o'-war
 
 156 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 about the size of the Reindeer, and that 't was 
 an even chance she 'd a mate at hand, so we 'd 
 have to finish her up lively. 
 
 " This is the right shop to come to for 
 quick work," says the boatswain, " now, lads, 
 look alive when we beat to quarters." 
 
 All this time we were coming up to the chase, 
 if you can call her that, seeing she was n't 
 doing much running away. I had a little of 
 the same feeling I 'd had when we were 
 closing with the Reindeer, only this time 
 't was not so strong. I felt as sure as that 
 my name was Bill Fry we 'd have her flag 
 down inside an hour, " and yet should she put 
 up as good a fight as the Reindeer" thinks I, 
 " there will be a dozen good seamen less 
 aboard the Wasp pretty soon." 
 
 This thought kind of kept hold of my 
 mind as I walked up and down, now and 
 again stopping to talk with the lads as they 
 chatted in low tones about the fo'k'sle. I 
 guess they all felt a bit as I did. They were 
 confident of winning, even more, maybe, 
 than before our first action, but they 'd seen
 
 Will o' the Wasp 157 
 
 bloody death next hand to 'em, and they 
 did n't know when he 'd get them by the 
 throat. Most of 'em were talking, clustered 
 forward, where they could see the brig we 
 were making for. Here and there one was 
 quiet and thoughtful, thinking maybe, of 
 wife or sweetheart to home, and one of 
 the quiet ones was I. I 'd no wife or 
 sweetheart to home, but right here in 
 the Wasp was a lass I was loving, and lov 
 ing very dear, in my way, which was stupid, 
 I guess, and slow. She 'd called me a hard 
 name that very afternoon, and had gone 
 away leaving me to choke back and down 
 the feeling that once in a while would come 
 to me, that she really liked me a little. 
 Now, in a short time, the drum would call 
 us to quarters, and then who knew what was 
 to come. 
 
 Maybe she 'd be sorry if they had to sew 
 me up and slide me off a plank in the morn 
 ing. But I 'd never said anything to her that 
 would make her take any special interest in 
 me. I was a fool to her, as a fool she 'd feel
 
 158 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 sorry for me, and there was an end. I 
 could n't bear to go into action and that 
 word the last between us. The night was 
 coming on, and we were gaining fast on the 
 brig ; we 'd be called to quarters soon. 
 " There 's one thing," I says to me, " she 
 always is bound to think a wise man's act, 
 and that is to be fond of her, and I 'm going 
 to let her know that in that quarter my 
 head 's as good as the next man's." I 
 thought I 'd go below and hang about the 
 waist of the ship a minute, on chance of see 
 ing her. 
 
 I went to the hatchway, and there she 
 stood. There she stood, no cap on, her hair 
 tumbled over her shoulders, a white kerchief 
 about her throat, and a quiet, strained look 
 to her face. Because of the dark, she hardly 
 knew me as I came up, then, when she did, 
 she looked at me in a way as if I 'd come 
 right along the same wind with her thoughts. 
 
 " Miss Nancy," says I, looking down at 
 her, " here 's the fool back," says I, not 
 knowing just what to say.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 159 
 
 She did n't speak, but rested her hands on 
 the rail of the companion-way, and looked 
 at me with her lips a little apart, and breath 
 ing rather quick. 
 
 " He wants to know," I went on, " Bill 
 Fry, the fool, Miss, seeing he 's going into 
 action, if you won't wish him not Plymouth 
 Jail, maybe, but luck, this time," and I put 
 out my hand, and as I did the roll of the 
 drum rang out clear and loud. I gave one 
 look at her, for she was quiet, and turned to 
 go, when she caught me by the arm and 
 pulled me she was a strong lass almost 
 down the hatch. 
 
 " Wait," says she, " I am first, give me 
 your hand ! " She took it and pressed it 
 hard, and I found she 'd put a little smooth 
 coin into it. " That 's for luck," she said, 
 and sprang down the hatchway. 'T was the 
 sixpence with the hole in it she 'd given me 
 two months before and I 'd given back. 
 
 She stopped at the foot of the com 
 panion-way and watched me dumfounded 
 standing there. " 'T is for good luck, good
 
 160 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 luck, Will," she called ; " 't is a lucky six 
 pence." 
 
 I never heeded the men running here and 
 there, the bustle and the roar; I never 
 heeded my gun captain's cursing me and 
 yelling to me to look alive ; I jumped down 
 the stair and caught her hand. " Miss," I 
 said, all in a tremble. 
 
 " Oh, not Miss, Nancy Nancy, Nancy, 
 stupid," she cried, and threw her arms about 
 my neck and kissed me, then sprang away 
 and was gone. I stood like one dazed. 
 Happy was I ? That 's not the word, drunk, 
 I guess, is nearer. 
 
 God knows how long I 'd 'a' stood there, if 
 a hand had n't gripped my shoulder and 
 the gun captain's voice yelled into my ear : 
 " Bill, you lubber, are you skulking or crazy ? 
 Come up here!" I turned and shook him 
 off. 
 
 " Hands off, mate," says I, " I 'm coming. 
 Skulking aint in my family, but crazy I may 
 be," says I, as I followed on deck, " but God 
 help me, I hope not." Into my mouth for
 
 Will o' the Wasp 161 
 
 safe keep I slips the sixpence, and in a sec 
 ond more was at my gun. 
 
 'T was dark enough by now, but the brig's 
 battle lanterns were lit, and so were ours, o' 
 course, and the two crafts were marks enough 
 for those as handled guns. The brig was 
 still signalling, for help maybe, the Lord 
 knows she needed it, but Captain Blakely 
 had picked her out and was going to get 
 her, consort or no. Suddenly she lets go a 
 gun. It made a noise, but where the shot 
 went we did n't know, not into us surely. 
 Then she lets go another ! 'T was good for 
 a salute and that was all. The Wasp came 
 right along and as still as the Flying Dutcti- 
 man, no cheering, no guns. 
 
 So it went for nearly three quarters of an 
 hour I should guess. 'T was not so hard to 
 stand as in the Reindeer fight, for we felt 
 these lubbers could n't shoot, should they 
 fire on us again before we were ready to 
 open, which they did n't. Manners's lads 
 were gunners in act, as well as name. About 
 9.30 I saw the crew of the bloody little shift-
 
 1 62 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 ing carronade we 'd taken out of the Rein 
 deer, a useful gun it was, as well we knew, 
 begin to jump about, and in a minute off 
 she goes, and 't was easy guessing, by the 
 rattle of truck upon the brig's deck, she 'd 
 taken her word straight. Three or four 
 guns replied, all without carrying much 
 meaning in their answer, so to speak, and 
 then Blakely, like the game cock he was, 
 fearing just one thing, that she might get 
 away, puts up helm and runs to leeward of 
 her, and ranged right alongside, and let go a 
 broadside into her quarter. 
 
 For a few minutes 't was as hot as the 
 Reindeer action, maybe hotter. So close we 
 were that a man was knocked off his feet by 
 a gun wad. We did n't know then who the 
 craft was we were fighting ; she was a big 
 one, and her tops seemed black with men. 
 She fired high, as the British most always 
 did, and the ropes and rigging caught it 
 pretty hot. She got only four shots into 
 our hull. I heard 'em crash and tear, and I 
 heard a cry from below.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 163 
 
 " My God ! " I thinks, " Nancy 's below 
 there," and it shows how I felt towards the 
 lass when I say I left the gun and was going 
 in a kind of wild way to the hatchway. 
 
 Some one caught me by the arm and 
 swung me round. " You trying to skulk, 
 Fry ? " says he. 'T was the ship's doctor. 
 
 This brought me to myself. 
 
 " I was afraid she 'd been struck." 
 
 " Struck, you rascal, she '11 never strike ! " 
 he roared. 
 
 " Not the ship, sir," I said. 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " Why, Nancy." 
 
 " Oh, Nancy ! You get back to your gun. 
 She 's aft in the ward-room safe enough ; get 
 back to your gun," and back I went. 
 
 But there was only a few minutes more of 
 this, for the brig had got nigh punishment 
 enough. Her officers maybe were gallant 
 men, indeed they must ha' been to do as 
 well as they had, but they were not of the 
 William Manners kind. He 'd have let us 
 get under his lee and glad of it ; or he 'd ha'
 
 1 64 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 sailed his craft right onto our deck, if so be 
 he could. But this brig was done dinner 
 without the extra ration of boarding. 
 
 We 'd been at it from our first gun to the 
 time she lay still, about half an hour maybe. 
 Then one of the officers hailed her and asked 
 had she struck ? A musket shot and one 
 gun replied. She had some life left, and we 
 gave her a couple more broadsides, then quit 
 for a minute as she did n't answer, and 't is 
 no credit to pound a whipped man. This 
 time when we hailed we got an answer. 
 
 She had struck, and we began to lower 
 away a boat. Just as we were doing so 
 comes a cry of another craft close under our 
 stern, coming up in the dark. 
 
 Sure enough, and a war vessel, too a brig 
 like the one we 'd just silenced. There was 
 quick work for a few minutes aboard the 
 Wasp, you may lay to that. 
 
 To run away ? Not at all. 
 
 'T was the Captain's wish to engage the 
 second brig as he 'd done the first. 
 
 She came across our stern while we were 
 still putting things tidy, to give her a polite
 
 Will o' the Wasp 165 
 
 reception, and let us have a broadside that 
 cut us up a bit aloft, then stood for the brig 
 we 'd just whipped, which was burning lights 
 and firing guns of distress. We were going 
 to engage the fresh one, but two more sails 
 were made out just then, and it was thought 
 best to go on our course, which we did. 
 
 I have heard since that the brig we fought, 
 sunk soon after that she was the Avon, 18, 
 and the brig that came up was the Castilian, 
 1 8, and following her, H. M. S. Tartarus. 
 So we were wise to slip away, though 't was 
 generally believed among the men that we 
 could ha' whipped the Castilian had she 
 been alone, for we were nigh as good as new, 
 and only three men short. Two dead, poor 
 Joe Martin, the boatswain, as true a soul and 
 good a boatswain as ever whistled a man 
 aloft, and Henry Staples, the quarter gunner. 
 Two men were wounded ; one of them was 
 Josh Sewall. He was old, too old to rally, 
 and the day after the fight, though he was 
 not hard hit, he was very bad, and the 
 Surgeon looked grave.
 
 1 66 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 The morning after the fight I was busy 
 just abaft the foremast when I looked up 
 and found Nancy standing by me. I got up, 
 there was no one in sight at the minute, we 
 were well hidden, and put my arm about her 
 and kissed her. 
 
 She did n't mind it ; she seemed to be 
 pleased with me ; and we said a few words 
 to each other, no matter what, 't is no use 
 writing 'em down. I '11 never want 'em again 
 to say to any living woman, and they were 
 too private for even this log. I guess we 
 had finally understood each other. 
 
 " So, Will," she says, sitting down by me 
 on the deck, " you were going to desert your 
 gun last night, were you ? " 
 
 " There 's just one person in all the world 
 could make me do that," I says, bragging a 
 little, I suppose, but you know I was talking 
 to my sweetheart, " and that 's you, Nancy ; 
 but how did you know it ? " 
 
 " The Surgeon," says she, looking very sly, 
 and reaching a hand under cover of the sail 
 I was mending.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 167 
 
 I took it, though I can't tell why I put 
 that down here, only -perhaps, because up to 
 now I 'd been so blind, and a day or two be 
 fore would ha' supposed she 'd put her hand 
 under the canvas to keep it warm. 
 
 " Now, Nancy," says I, holding her hand 
 very tight, " we aint said much, you nor I, 
 but we understand each other, don't we, 
 lass ? " 
 
 "I 'm sure I can't speak for you, "says she. 
 "No, no, Will," says she, "not here, not 
 again not now, anyhow, for there 's Mr. 
 Downs standing by the mizzen-shrouds." 
 
 " Blast Mr. Downs," says I ; " I suppose 
 he has " 
 
 "Oh, Will," she says, very quiet and 
 serious, " he never did, and you must n't talk 
 that way to me," says she. 
 
 "Well, I beg pardon," says I; "but, 
 Nancy, that young beggar Joe said he had 
 often in Plymouth.' 
 
 " Perhaps," says she, quite cool, then, hot, 
 " and I boxed his blooming ears well for him 
 - the young neddy," says she, and then.
 
 1 68 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 looking at me in a way that made everything 
 snug again, " I did n't know you then, 
 Will." 
 
 Just then boatswain's mate came along by 
 and I went on stitching canvas, for you can't 
 stitch with one hand. But boatswain's 
 mates are n't passing all the time, and by 
 and by we were talking as before. 
 
 " Nancy," says I, " you know I used to 
 think Josh knew more 'n he told me, about 
 the vivandeer business." 
 
 "Well," says she, "you see, I 'm beginning 
 to talk like a Yankee I guess, you see, Will, 
 I 'm beginning to ' guess ' already ; he did. 
 Why, you 're the greatest stupid I ever 
 knew," says she, laughing at some memory, 
 maybe, that came to her. 
 
 " I '11 tell you now how it all was," she 
 goes on, holding my hand very close and 
 leaning my way. " Tell me one thing first 
 that you Ve forgot," she says, quite sudden. 
 
 I began to think. 
 
 " Oh, oh, oh," says she, as if very provoked 
 and yet laughing, too, " do you call yourself
 
 Will o' the Wasp 169 
 
 an able seaman, yet here am I have to lay 
 the course for you all the while ? Why, you 
 have n't said, ' I love you, Nancy.' ' 
 
 I looked at her, but she would n't meet my 
 eyes. 
 
 " Lass," says I, quite low, " I did n't think 
 that was needed." 
 
 " Yes it is," she cries, " it is, and anyhow 
 I want you to say you love me, say it 
 quick." 
 
 I let go her hand, for I needed my arm. 
 " My dear," says I, " I love you better than 
 I can tell you, far better than I love myself, 
 and I 'm pretty fond of Bill Fry, too." 
 
 " And so am I," says she, and put her face 
 up towards mine. 
 
 This log is n't needed to call back to my 
 mind that evening. 'T is clear yet in my 
 memory. The good Wasp heeling a bit as 
 she stood along on a brisk breeze over her 
 port beam twilight coming on, and a star in 
 the westward, for we were pointed towards 
 home. A sailor was singing soft, the other 
 side the hatchway, some hymn tune 't was,
 
 1 70 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 that I had heard before. And many 's the 
 time since then I Ve sat in meeting and heard 
 that tune. And as I lean back in my old 
 seat by the wall, I hear no more preaching, 
 see nothing of the folk around me, but the 
 noise I '11 hear will be the hum of a steady 
 breeze aloft, the creak of the tackle, and the 
 wash of the sea, till I almost believe that I '11 
 find beside me, when I open my eyes, my 
 dear, dear lass, and love, Nancy Barker.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HOW THE WARD-ROOM DRANK TO NANCY 
 BARKER. 
 
 I 'VE no wish to speak here of the prizes we 
 took, for we overhauled three or four be 
 tween the 1st and the 2ist of the month. 
 We burned or scuttled all of them and took 
 the crews aboard. 'T was odd enough that 
 Nancy would have no more to do with her 
 countryman, but since she 'd made up her 
 mind to be American by annexation, she 'd 
 no wish to look back. 
 
 All these days we 'd see each other every 
 day a little while, sometimes by ourselves, 
 sometimes with others about. There was 
 difference enough between such meetings to 
 make me look ahead with a bit of impatience 
 to the end o' the cruise. We were very 
 careful about Jim Downs, for I knew he was 
 sparking Nancy, or had been, and would be 
 171
 
 1 72 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 the wrong man to know our secret ; that was 
 my reason, Nancy's was to keep him trotting 
 for her just so long as she could. And that 's 
 the truth, by thunder. 
 
 " Tell the poor swab," says I to her. 
 
 " And make him unhappy for the rest of 
 the cruise? " says she. 
 
 " Gammon, lass," I says " it 's not that, 
 my dear," I says, "but you want the beg 
 gar's polite little tricks when I 'm on duty," 
 says I, " and maybe if anything happens to 
 me 
 
 "Come, Will," says she, "that 's an old 
 joke by now, you know." 
 
 "Well," says I, " and that 's true, but 't is 
 one of the few jokes I know ; never mind, 
 Jim," says I, remembering the trick he played 
 me once and how he 'd acted off and on with 
 me, aboard ship, " maybe 't will be the kind 
 est way and " 
 
 " Do you know what he asked me to do at 
 L'Orient?" says she, suddenly. 
 
 " Not a bit," says I. 
 
 " Well, to run off to England with him
 
 Will o' the Wasp 1 73 
 
 he said he 'd desert and get aboard an Eng 
 lish packet that came in while we lay there." 
 Nancy always spoke of us as we, by now. 
 
 " The sneak," says I " and you would n't 
 go away with a deserter hay ? " 
 
 " Not that one," she says, smiling. 
 
 " Nor me either, I hope, if I were one as 
 well," says I. 
 
 " No," says she, quite slow, " no, Bill, I 
 don't think that I would," says she. This 
 by good luck was one of the times we were 
 by ourselves. 
 
 So everything went along pretty pleasant. 
 I guess Surgeon saw how things were, for he 
 told me one day that I had more intelligence 
 than he gave me credit for, and one day 
 again he says : 
 
 " Bill, I suppose you '11 not be following 
 the sea after this cruise." He sort of cocked 
 his eye at me, and I knew what he was 
 driving at. 
 
 "Well, sir," says I, '"I Ve heard as how 
 Captain Blakely left a wife ashore to go this 
 cruise, and maybe I '11 be able to do as well
 
 1 74 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 as he on the next give me a little time 
 ashore." 
 
 " I '11 give you ten days," says he, "before 
 that clipper girl, that privateer," says he, 
 calling her the same name he 'd used before, 
 " takes charge of the ship and turns you 
 adrift in the dingy," and he laughed hearty. 
 
 The 2 1st day of September we took a brig, 
 the Atalanta. She was armed with eight 
 guns, and was a prize worth the saving. We 
 threw a prize crew into her with Mr. Geisin- 
 ger, a midshipman, in command, and sent 
 her home. Captain Blakely had me into his 
 cabin before we parted company with the 
 brig. 
 
 " Bill," he says, as if it came natural to 
 him, and I found out later that they talked 
 a good bit of Nancy and me in the ward 
 room, so 't was as if he knew me better, 
 maybe, than he did some of the others of 
 the crew. 
 
 " Bill," says the Captain, " the Atalanta 's 
 going straight for a home port, and it 's my 
 intention to send Miss Nancy along of her ;
 
 Will o' the Wasp 1 75 
 
 this ship 's no place for her, though 't is as 
 safe as a church so far as my lads go." 
 
 " You can tie to it, 't is so, sir," says I, 
 saluting, " and please your honor," I says, 
 " if I may speak, is it not a better place than 
 the Atalanta brig?" 
 
 "Why, Bill," he says, "can't you trust 
 her ? " and laughed a bit. 
 
 This stirred me up. " Trust her, sir," says 
 I, " trust her I can wherever her own mind 
 stands at the wheel, your honor," says I ; 
 "but who 's to say some bloody British 
 privateersman may not snap the brig up? 
 Aboard the Wasp, sir, she 's safe naught 
 short of a 74 can get her out of us, and we 
 can show heels to the best line-o'-battle ship 
 in King George's Navy, sir," I says. 
 
 I 'm no fool, in some ways at any rate, 
 and I knew what I said would please Cap 
 tain Blakely, and please him it did. 
 
 " Well, Doctor," says he, smiling, to Dr. 
 Clarke, who was with him, " Bill 's a great 
 sea lawyer, aint he ; there 's something in 
 what he says, too. But Bill," he went on,
 
 1 76 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 she 'd be safe in a British crew, for she 's an 
 English girl, you know." 
 
 " Beg your pardon, Captain," I says, "but 
 she 's as good a Yankee by now as Bill 
 Fry." 
 
 " Well, well," says Blakely after a min 
 ute's thought, " I '11 put you aboard the 
 Atalanta in the prize crew, my man, and 
 you can look after Miss," says he ; "you 're 
 a good hand to lose though," says he, talk 
 ing half to himself, " too good almost, eh, 
 Doctor ? " 
 
 The Doctor kind o' shook his head. He 
 wanted to help me and Nancy home safe, 
 and yet he did n't like to advise against any 
 thing the Captain might suggest. As for me, 
 it 's the truth I was for the time so pleased 
 to think of getting my girl to shore and go 
 ing along of her, that I guess I could n't 
 help showing it. I waited for the Captain, 
 and by and by he says again : 
 
 " Well, Bill, I '11 send you aboard the 
 Atalanta, and you can look out for the lass 
 yourself."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 177 
 
 I saluted and went forward, and in a jiffy 
 found Nancy at the door of her cabin and 
 told her. At first she seemed as happy as I 
 was, till I happened to say that Captain 
 said I was most too good a man to lose. 
 This I said to brag a bit, and I got caught 
 up for it. She was quite sober for a minute, 
 and then she says : 
 
 " Will," says she, " if I must leave you, then 
 I must I *m not afraid, with our men aboard 
 the brig," she meant the lads from the 
 Wasp, " and I '11 find a safe place to wait 
 for you in America you can send me a 
 letter to your mother, you know," says she ; 
 " but, Will, I can't have you, that I love so, 
 and respect as much, leave duty when you 're 
 needed, to look out for me." She just put 
 her arms about my neck and looked me 
 right in the face. 
 
 " But, lass, " says I. 
 
 " No, dear," she says, breaking in, " you 
 must not go." Then she put her head on 
 my shoulder and cried. 
 
 I thought she 'd changed her mind, and
 
 178 Will o'the Wasp 
 
 says I : " Nancy, it 's all right ; there '11 be no 
 more work, and it 's best I should "' 
 
 " Oh, Will," she says, stopping her sobs, 
 " I want you so, I want you so, but dear, 
 don't you see how proud it makes me to 
 think they don't like to spare my lad from 
 his gun. Maybe they won't send me, but if 
 they do, it 's go alone. 'T will be but a few 
 months, dear." 
 
 Well, the upshot of this was that that 
 afternoon I stood before the Captain again. 
 There were several officers with him, and the 
 Surgeon too. 
 
 " Well, says he, pleasant, for he was always 
 that way with his men, " what now, Bill 
 is n't the young lady willing to leave us with 
 you?" 
 
 "Your honor," says I, "she 's ready to 
 go if so be she must, but I '11 not go along of 
 her. If there 's need of me aboard, as ask 
 ing your pardon, I thought from what you 
 said this morning there might be, why I 
 shipped for work aboard the Wasp, sir, and 
 on the Wasp I '11 serve, unless your honor 
 drives me off," says I, quite red by now.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 1 79 
 
 The Captain looked at me very steady. 
 " You mean this, my lad," said he very 
 gentle, but in a voice that made me happy 
 to have said my say as I said it. Then he 
 looked round at the others. " That 's the 
 sort of seamen I cannot afford to put aboard 
 a prize, gentlemen," says he, and they all 
 said something, never mind what, about my 
 being the true sort. 
 
 I was feeling pretty proud, when a sud 
 den idea came into my head. 'T was Nancy 
 to praise for this, not me. And I spoke up 
 quick : 
 
 "Your honor," says I, " I should tell you 
 and the gentlemen here one thing, for I cal 
 culate to be honest," says I, " I would have 
 gone to-day in the Atalanta, and happy to at 
 that," says I, " but, sir, my lass, 't is she won't 
 have it, for, ' Will,' says she, ' I 'm that proud 
 to think they value you, that want you as I 
 do, I '11 go alone sooner than take you away 
 from duty,' says she, and so, Captain and 
 gentlemen," says I, " it stands this way." 
 
 Well, before the Captain could speak the 
 Surgeon hit the table with his fist.
 
 i8o Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " By the Lord," says he, " Captain Blakely, 
 you can't put that lass in a prize crew 
 neither," says he, " let her stay aboard, let 
 her stay if she '11 take the chances." 
 
 The Captain looked to the other officers. 
 " What do you say, gentlemen ? " 
 
 " Why, if she 's willing, let her stay," says 
 one, and the other, who seemed to be a jolly 
 lad in a way, says : " By all means, Captain, 
 she '11 heart the crew up ; and I suggest if it 
 suit you, sir, we drink her health." 
 
 "With all my heart," says the Captain, 
 and raps on the table. I was going to go 
 but he stops me. 
 
 " Wait, my man," says he, " you of all 
 men should drink that health." When the 
 boy brought in the glasses and a bottle of 
 sherry and we 'd all filled, the Captain nods 
 to the Surgeon and says he, " Clarke, give us 
 a sentiment," and Surgeon says, " I give 
 you the last Yankee invention," says he, 
 " a man-o'-war's-woman here 's Nancy Bar 
 ker ! " says he, and we took it down at 
 a toss.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 181 
 
 " Now, Bill," says the Captain, " you can 
 go and tell the young lady she takes the 
 chances of war." And so I saluted and 
 went forward. 
 
 In this way things ran along for more 
 than two weeks. Each day I 'd see some 
 thing of Nancy ; sometimes only a word 
 did we have, sometimes maybe a half hour 
 or more. One day I remember she came 
 back to the talk we had before about my 
 folks. 
 
 " Will," says she, for some days when 
 she 'd feel special kind she always called me 
 that, though 't was Bill when in a hurry, 
 maybe, or perhaps vexed with me, " do 
 you think your mother 's going to like 
 me ? " she asks, quite soft, as if afraid what 
 I might say. 
 
 " She '11 like anything I do, I guess," says 
 I ; " anyhow I 'm not obliged to lie at the 
 same dock," says I. 
 
 " Still," says she, " I 'd like her to like me." 
 
 " Well I don't know how she can help it 
 that 's the fact," says I.
 
 1 82 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " But, Will," says she, " I 'm afraid for 
 my language it 's too, too sailor-like, Will, 
 for you know it 's what I 've mostly heard 
 all my life. You won't be telling her now 
 that I called you a damn fool, will you, 
 dear?" 
 
 " God bless you, my lass," says I with a 
 roar, for I had to laugh to hear her so simple, 
 yet kind of anxious, too ; " she 's called me 
 the same many 's the time not in those 
 words maybe, but meaning the same ; and 
 you did but tell the truth when all 's said 
 and done." 
 
 " Will, are you sure there 's no sweetheart 
 waiting for you in Portsmouth, lad ? " 
 
 " Sure am I," says I, " and I wish I was 
 so sure of a long life." 
 
 "And has there never been one, dear? " 
 
 I did n't answer at once and she ran on, 
 not waiting : " I 'm glad there has n't, for 
 indeed 't is plain there 's never been one 
 you don't act like a man that 's kept com 
 pany somehow." 
 
 "How's that?" says I, willing to leave
 
 Will o' the Wasp 183 
 
 Lindy and the way she treated me out of 
 the talk. 
 
 " Why," she says, laughing in my face, 
 " I 'm just guessing, that 's all, like a Yankee 
 that I 'm going to be." 
 
 " Oh," says I, " 't is well for you it 's broad 
 day and the deck full of sailors, or I 'd take 
 my pay, so much for a guess, like a church 
 fair," I says, and she runs away below. 
 
 So things went along. I had but little to 
 say or do with Jim Downs all this time, but 
 I 'd seen him with Nancy quite frequent. I 
 never worried much about it, but sometimes 
 the swab made me angry by his stupid ways. 
 He might ha' seen how matters stood with 
 half an eye. 'T was an open secret abaft the 
 mizzen-mast I reckon, and some of my 
 mates were poking fun at me much of the 
 time. 
 
 Now old Josh Sewall, as I said, had been 
 wounded in the fight with the Avon and 
 had n't picked up. 'T was nice to see the 
 way the girl looked after him. If he 'd been 
 her father she could n't ha' been gentler
 
 1 84 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 with him. The old man always had a liking 
 for her and she 'd read to him and fetch him 
 this and that, from the galley, the cook would 
 fix up for him, for he was as well liked an old 
 lad as you could find. 
 
 One day in the early part of October he 
 was very bad, out of his head a good half 
 the time and calling to people we never 
 knew or heard of. He was the first I 'd 
 ever heard a-raving and 't was hard to listen 
 to. Nancy stayed close by him most of the 
 time. Lord, how the poor old lad would 
 shout. Nancy crept up to the deck for a 
 bit of fresh air, and I found her there. 
 
 " O Will," says she, " he 's talking of 
 some one named Sarah," says she, " and it 's 
 cruel hard to hear him, and see him pipe 
 his poor old eyes and throw his arms 
 around." 
 
 " There now, lass," says I, for she began 
 to cry, " you 're piping your own pretty eyes 
 and 't will do no good. It's likely his mother 
 he 's talking of." 
 
 " His mother ! " says she, " do you call
 
 Will o' the Wasp 185 
 
 your mothers by their first names in America ? 
 no, you stupid, 't is his wife." 
 
 " Or daughter," says I. 
 
 " No, wife, I tell you," says Nancy very 
 set, " and O Will, do you think when you 
 get to be as old as Josh you '11 remember 
 me? Come below a minute and see the 
 poor old man." 
 
 Down we went and up to Josh's bunk 
 in the steerage. He was talking fast and 
 high, and I heard names that used to be 
 heard when the navy was just out the shell 
 Jones and Biddle and Preble and Somers. 
 Josh had been following the sea since the 
 first war, the war of Independence. Then 
 of a sudden all this stopped and he said very 
 distinct : 
 
 " Sarah, here 's your man Josh," and then 
 again and again. 
 
 I had to go on deck, and glad of the 
 chance, for my scuppers were running.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HOW JIM DOWNS TOOK FRENCH LEAVE. 
 
 \X7E had sighted a sail early on this day 
 and by now had got close to her and 
 hove her to. We found her to be the Nor 
 wegian packet Adonis, and we sent a boat off 
 to her. With the boat went Jim Downs 
 with some private letters of several officers 
 aboard to parties in Europe. 
 
 The poor beggar had been very down in 
 his mouth for a fortnight and was that pale 
 and sick-looking that many who did n't like 
 him pitied him. His action with the Portu- 
 gee brigantine Pico, as Josh used to describe 
 the little scuffle he and the yellow beggar 
 had on the fo'k'sle, had made him more 
 friends than he 'd had up to then. He was 
 sick for news o* land and needed change of 
 some kind, I reckon, so he was let go aboard
 
 Will o' the Wasp 187 
 
 the Adonis as a kind of treat, for by and long 
 a treat it is, when you Ve been six weeks or 
 more at sea, to look at new faces, and hear 
 fresh news, other than the sulky mugs and 
 surly lies you run athwart on your prizes. 
 Well, the boat was gone a long time then 
 back it comes we saw some kind of excite 
 ment aft as the officer in charge reported. 
 Then off goes the boat again and we saw the 
 officer board the Adonis once more. By and 
 by we could tell there was something up 
 aboard the packet for there was hand 
 shaking going on and then down the lad 
 der to the cutter comes our officer and two 
 strangers. 
 
 When the boat got near the Wasp, we 'd 
 lined the bulwarks to see what was up, and 
 presently we saw the Captain off his hat and 
 cry out some hail, then the other officers, 
 and then who cheers but Bill Fry, for sitting 
 cosy and cool in the stern of the boat were 
 Lieutenant McKnight and Master Lyman of 
 my old ship the Essex. They had been ex 
 changed, as it turned out, and were bound
 
 1 88 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 to England from Rio Janeiro, as the readiest 
 way home, when they met us. 
 
 Well, the lads cheered and cheered as the 
 word ran forward, and pretty soon we could 
 see the handshaking on the quarter-deck. I 
 kind of edged up near to where the Captain 
 and the two Essex men stood. By and by 
 McKnight caught sight of me. Rethought 
 he knew me, then he thought he did n't. 
 But presently he walks up to me 
 
 " Where have you served, my man ? " says 
 he. 
 
 " On the Essex, sir," says I, saluting. 
 
 " I knew it," he says, " you must have 
 been sent off in one of the prize crews." 
 
 " The Hectors, sir." 
 
 " Well, well," says he, " you missed bloody 
 glory and the stiffest business I ever heard 
 of, by being aboard her," says he. 
 
 " Well, sir," says I, " we Ve had some 
 pretty hot duff to swallow aboard the Wasp, 
 sir," I says. 
 
 " Yes, yes," he says, " I know your cap 
 tain and I '11 go bail for him to keep you
 
 Will o' the Wasp 189 
 
 busy." Here the Captain takes him by the 
 arm. 
 
 " Come, McKnight," says he, " come be 
 low and let us get a word of Porter. I '11 
 spin my yarn, and get yours. We 've had 
 no news of the Essex for the last eight 
 months." The Captain and all but the officer 
 of the deck went below. There was more 
 going and coming between the two ships; 
 both McKnight and Lyman went back to 
 the Adonis for a short spell and another trip 
 the boat made after that, but finally we 
 parted company and she was soon hull 
 down. It did n't take long for the story of 
 the staunch old Essex to get over the ship, 
 and for several hours 't was all the men talked 
 or thought about. 'T is history now, well 
 known, I guess, how the game little frigate 
 lay in Valparaiso harbor ready to fight, 
 yes, daring 'em on, either British ship that 
 pleased, and one of them, the Phcebe, big 
 ger than her. But they did n't please. 
 They 'd come out to get Captain Porter and 
 his ship, and 't was a risk they could n't
 
 190 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 afford, to talk single with him an hour, or 
 maybe two. 
 
 Every tar that 's fought under the gridi 
 ron knows how Porter might ha' raked the 
 Phoebe when she fouled him running into 
 harbor, and how because the British Com 
 modore swore that he meant no offence the 
 Yankee Captain let it pass. And every 
 man-jack has heard how the Britisher sent 
 neutrality to hell and pitched onto the little 
 Essex, crippled by her topmast going off in 
 a gale, and pounded her from a distance, till 
 she lay a blazing wreck with her cockpits 
 full of dead and the dead and wounded lit 
 tering the ship from stem to stern. 
 
 Pounded her from a distance, mind ye no 
 coming aboard, not they ; had they tried it 
 but well, well ! I get now so hot over it, 
 though 't was years ago, I can but rip and 
 curse. 'T was my old ship, the ship I first 
 learned the man-o'-war's-man's trade in, and 
 I own I felt like a baby when I heard how 
 she 'd been taken. 
 
 But Lord, she took toll, too ! And had
 
 Will o' the Wasp 191 
 
 she been able to get in closer quarters the 
 story maybe would have been another one. 
 
 Well it must ha' done the two officers we 
 took aboard good to hear what we 'd been 
 doing, and the spirit of them showed out in 
 their coming on deck dressed again in the 
 States uniform, volunteer officers for the rest 
 of the cruise. The men all gathered aft and 
 cheered them hearty, and McKnight taking 
 off his hat says : 
 
 " Lads, we Ve shipped aboard the Wasp 
 along with Captain Blakely, because we like 
 him, because we belong under the old bunt 
 ing yonder, and because, by the Lord," says 
 he, suddenly, " we Ve a score to pay John 
 Bull, and we 're honest men that pay our 
 debts." 
 
 Well, such talk was the talk for the Wasp's 
 crew. I know I Ve said it here before, but 
 it keeps coming up to me, and that is the 
 spirit that ran through the entire ship's com 
 pany. They did n't seem to care about go 
 ing home they were more anxious to cruise 
 and fight, almost, than the officers them-
 
 192 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 selves, if such a thing could be. They got 
 it straight from one man, and that was 
 Blakely. With his gentle face and pleasant 
 manners, he was the deadest set man for 
 fighting I ever saw. And 't is truth that the 
 presence of the two officers from the Essex 
 seemed to heat things up. I heard it said 
 that Blakely had sent a challenge by the 
 Adonis to any two British brigs to fight 
 him.* It was like him, if it wa' n't true ; and 
 you may call it brag, but from what I saw 
 the night we sunk the Avon, we could ha' 
 given an account of 'em. 
 
 Now, while everything was full of stir and 
 as much in a wax as things can ever be on 
 board a man-o'-war, owing to the officers 
 from the Essex and their news, no one came 
 to notice that Jim Downs was n't aboard. 
 By and by purser's clerk did, and then there 
 was a hot search. But 't was no use. 
 
 The swab was gone. 
 
 He 'd hid himself aboard the Adonis and 
 got away. The Norwegian was out o' sight 
 
 * Niles's Register.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 193 
 
 when we knew she had him aboard, and 't was 
 hardly worth while to chase her. 
 
 " Let the little skunk go," says the gun 
 ner's mate to me, " he 's the fly in the oint 
 ment that causeth it to stink." 
 
 Gunner's mate was one of the most pious 
 talking, aye and thinking too, aboard the 
 ship, but in action he had a gift in the way 
 of talk that he did n't learn at meeting, by 
 thunder ! 
 
 Well, I guess 't was generally considered 
 a good riddance aboard the Wasp. I wanted 
 to tell Nancy, for I 'd not seen her since 
 morning, and so I went to her cabin. The 
 door was closed. I rapped. 
 
 " Who is it ? " says she. 
 
 " 'T is I, Bill," I answered, and I heard her 
 jump to the door and then she threw it open. 
 God help me, I never saw her look so wild 
 and strange ! 
 
 "What," says she, hardly able to talk, 
 " do you come here, you liar, you liar ! I 
 know you for what you are, Mr. Bill Fry," 
 she cries, stamping her foot and throwing
 
 194 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 her hand with a bit of a letter in it, almost 
 against my face, " Oh, you Ve no sweetheart 
 at home, you never had one oh no, no," 
 she says, for I was too hit all of a sudden to 
 say a word ; " I 've word of it, mate, I know 
 the bloody lies that you Ve been spinning 
 out to me now." 
 
 She was getting back into her old fo'k'sle 
 way of talk. 
 
 " Lass," says I, " for God's sake, what 's 
 come to you," for I thought she 'd gone 
 crazy. 
 
 "What 's come to me?" says she, with a 
 laugh that I could n't bear to hear, " this is 
 what 's come to me," and she held the letter 
 towards me. I saw 't was Jim Downs's fist 
 on it. 
 
 " Well," I says, trying to be cool, though 
 temper was getting to weather of me, " that 's 
 from the poor sneak that 's just stowed 
 away on the Adonis and deserted. T is 
 likely a lot of blasted lies, but read 'em lass, 
 if you won't let me do so," for she snatched 
 it back when I tried to take it.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 195 
 
 " No need o' that," she says, " no need to 
 tell you of Lindy ; ah, you know it 's true, 
 you know it is." 
 
 " But," says I, " I never lied to you of 
 her ; I gave her up when I left, when I left, 
 Nancy, I knew she did n't care for me, and 
 so help me God I never did really care for 
 her. Josh Sewall will tell you, I left her, 
 and glad to be away, lass, 't is the truth." 
 
 " Oh, don't tell me more lies, you mean sea 
 lawyer," says she, shaking her head. " Josh 
 Sewall dying, too a good witness for one 
 that does n't want the truth told. What 
 about the token you sent her by Caleb 
 Whaley, eh, what about the gold anchor with 
 the wreath about it ? " 
 
 " Lass," says I, trying hard to talk cool, 
 " 't is true I sent such a knicknack to the 
 girl, and with it went good-by, and no word 
 of promise, and she cared less about me and 
 what I was doing than she cared for the 
 trinket, which Caleb says was little enough." 
 
 " Oh, stow your talk," says the girl, " I '11 
 ask no more questions, my man, you need
 
 i g6 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 tell no more lies ; why don't you," says she, 
 asking a question right off, " tell me to ask 
 Caleb Whaley, who 's dead this six weeks ? 
 Dead men tell no tales, Mr. -Bill," she says, 
 " but live ones make up for 'em," and then 
 she laughed again in a way that cut my 
 heart. 
 
 " Nancy," says I, trying once more to get 
 sense into her head, " listen, for God's sake, 
 lass " 
 
 " Don't you dare speak to me that way," 
 she said, very fierce, and I never knew any 
 one so hot all through with temper. " I 
 never want you nor any other Yankee to 
 speak to me again. God forgive me," she 
 says, crying, but only out of rage, " for for 
 getting oM Plymouth and my birthright as 
 an English girl. I '11 be put aboard the first 
 ship we you, I mean you, you Yankees 
 heave to, and go anywhere anywhere away 
 from Yankees and and lies." And here 
 she broke out into a sort of cry, pushed me 
 from the door and shut and locked it. 
 
 I went on deck and was sent aloft almost
 
 Will o* the Wasp 197 
 
 as soon as I got there. Lying out on the 
 yards furling sail I had n't the chance to do 
 much thinking of what had just took place. 
 When you 're aloft your brains must be in 
 your ringers. If you let 'm run around try 
 ing to explain why a lass lets a broadside 
 into you without hailing you, as it were, 
 you 're apt to take a long drop, and I was 
 always the man to look after my own skin. 
 
 Yet it won't do to say I wa' n't cut up, and 
 worse. If it had been plain anger bothering 
 me I 'd ha' weathered it handity, but the girl 
 was so much to me that to think of her go 
 ing so wrong about me, was by itself enough 
 to cut me to the heart. And to think she 
 had called me a liar, and believed it, and one 
 witness dying, and one dead, and the whelp 
 that made all the trouble safe away where I 
 could n't get my hands on his windpipe ! 
 Well, when I got to deck again and let these 
 things come over me, I was in what they 
 call a state of mind ! I knew 't was the wise 
 thing to let the girl cool off, and so I waited.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HOW JOSH SEW ALL WENT TO SARAH. 
 
 T DID n't see Nancy again that night nor 
 the following day. So the next night I 
 got to see the Surgeon a minute. I told him 
 the whole yarn and he believed me. 
 
 " I '11 see her to-morrow, Bill," he says 
 " She 's a girl of sense, and I '11 make it all 
 ship-shape again," says he. 
 
 To-morrow was a long time a-coming, and 
 when about eight bells Surgeon comes along 
 side and takes me to the rail by the mizzen- 
 shrouds, it seemed as if I 'd waited a week. 
 
 " Bill," he says, " let the girl alone. She 's 
 in a curious frame of mind," says he; those 
 were his words " and the least said to her 
 for a while the better. She thinks we 're all 
 liars and calls us Yankees, which last, praise 
 God," says he laughing, " I 'm glad to say 
 198
 
 Will o' the Wasp 199 
 
 is true. But just at the present she 's a 
 fitter subject for the Chaplain than for me. I 
 think she 's got as lively a command of lingo 
 of a sea-faring kind," says he, " as any old 
 salt that follows the sea. At present she 's 
 down on everything, her luck to begin with, 
 and the whole ship's company from Captain 
 Blakely to William Fry, and him especially," 
 says he laughing. " So Bill, let her cool a 
 day or two more. As it is, I 'm afraid she '11 
 fire the ship yet." 
 
 I thanked him and allowed it would be 
 best to go by his steering. It made me 
 smile, sick as I felt, to think of the girl lay 
 ing the Surgeon aboard, and I knew 't would 
 ha' been the same with the Chaplain. 
 
 That evening I heard word that Josh 
 Sewall was going. I went to the old lad's 
 side in the steerage. Half a dozen of the 
 men were standing around, and kneeling by 
 his bed was Nancy Barker. She never 
 looked at us but watched the poor old man's 
 face and now and then took his hand when it 
 was quiet.
 
 2oo Will o' the Wasp 
 
 For two days he 'd talked and mumbled all 
 the time, always coming back to the same 
 old word " Sarah, here 's your man Josh," 
 and as we stood about him he struck up 
 again. 
 
 I 'd known him fifteen years, off and on, 
 and never heard he was married or ever had 
 been. But Jack's marriage-certificate is his 
 word, I guess, and there 's many has a wife 
 in every port, as they say, but Josh was not 
 that build ; and if so be there was, or had 
 been, a Sarah with a claim to the old man, 
 I 'm willing to believe Josh was her man, 
 aye, her man and no other's. 
 
 As he moaned and called out, Nancy 
 would kind of soothe him, now and again 
 sobbing to herself, and Josh would some 
 times hold her hand in both of his, and then 
 he 'd lie quiet. Sick and crazy as the poor 
 old lad was, he could tell the hands that held 
 him belonged to a woman who was caring 
 for him and was sorry for him. 
 
 The Surgeon in a few minutes told us we 
 must leave him to himself. The girl might
 
 Will o' the Wasp 201 
 
 stay if she would, he said. I could n't help 
 stepping close to her a minute. 
 
 " Nancy," I says, very low, " I swear to 
 you here by old Josh's death-bed that " 
 
 " Hush," says she, very cold, " this is n't 
 the place for, for what is n't true." 
 
 " But it is, it is, lass I care no more for 
 that girl than 
 
 " Then you 're false to her and that 's nigh 
 as bad," says she. " No, Mr. Fry," she says, 
 very quiet, " let 's have no more words about 
 the thing." And just then the Surgeon 
 ordered me away. 
 
 We buried Josh that evening, as we 'd 
 buried near two-score good seamen, our own 
 and British, since the cruise began. A good 
 loyal man, handy with his cutlass, an all 
 round, first-class, able-bodied seaman, was 
 buried with old Josh Sewall. 
 
 'T was a calm evening, though it looked 
 like weather to the sou'east, and the splash 
 of the body as it slipped off the plank sent 
 ripples out and around like a stone in a mill- 
 pond.
 
 2O2 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 Josh could and would swear, many 's the 
 time ; and I 've seen him obliged to make a 
 dozen tacks in a straight-laid course, because 
 he 'd a little too much Medford between 
 decks, but not often. This was all top- 
 hamper. The hull of the man was sound as 
 oak, and there's a snug berth for Josh aloft, 
 if there is for any one. No one of us knew 
 where he was born, what corner of the States 
 he hailed from, but he went to his long 
 home and to Sarah, as he wanted to go, by 
 way of the sea. 
 
 We had hardly finished with the burial 
 service when the man on the lookout forward 
 sighted a sail on the port bow. 'T was a 
 pleasant change and like the life on sea. 
 There 's too much on hand, what with the 
 weather to watch, the ship to look to, and 
 the skyline to search for sail, to spend much 
 time thinking of a dead messmate, however 
 good he may ha' been, and we were all on 
 the jump, to rights. I guess the liking for 
 prizes is like the taste for rum. The more 
 you get the more you want, and some time
 
 Will o' the Wasp 203 
 
 had passed since we 'd lit up the night with 
 a bonfire. But before dusk had settled we 
 knew 't was no merchantman we 'd sighted ; 
 no, nor no brig-o'-war this time. 
 
 " 'T is a corvette or a frigate," says one of 
 my mates whose eyes were keener than 
 mine, " and it 's dollars to shillings," says he, 
 " it 's a frigate, for I never saw a corvette of 
 her size." 
 
 Sure enough, word soon blew about the 
 fo'k'sle that we 'd sighted a frigate, a 44 
 maybe, certainly not under a 36, and what 's 
 more, we were not going to run. 
 
 " Run ! " says an old lad nigh me, " run 
 after her, maybe," and that 's how the lads 
 all felt. 
 
 By and by I heard that John Rowe had 
 been aft on some duty, and he 'd heard what 
 the Captain said about her as he sized her 
 up from the quarter deck. Says John: 
 
 " Captain Blakely says," says he, " ' She 's 
 a big one, Tillinghast,' he says, and Tilling- 
 hast says, ' She 's no more to fight than two 
 brigs at once, is she?' and the Captain
 
 204 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 laughs kind of quiet and says, ' That 's what 
 Ave 're going to find out,' and then all the 
 officers laughed, and looked at each other as 
 if to say, 'That's what we were thinking.' 
 Then up comes Mr. McKnight from below 
 and takes a look, then says he, ' You 're not 
 sheering off are you, Blakely ? ' and then, get 
 ting the ship's course, says he, ' Why, she 's 
 not so big after all.' ' Wait,' says Captain, 
 and just then the boatswain's whistle pipes 
 up, the ship tacked, and down we went along 
 the wind head on to the frigate. McKnight 
 turned sudden and gripped Blakely's hand, 
 and says he, ' Captain Blakely, you 're a 
 man, there 's a score to settle,' says he, and 
 Captain says, ' The time 's come, then.' " 
 
 So we men knew that fight was the word, 
 and we knew what 's more, that we 'd got 
 our work cut out and plenty of it. Yet by 
 this we 'd got so sure of our little ship that 
 we did n't worry. The chase I call her that 
 not because she was running away, for she 
 wa' n't, but because we were running after 
 her was due ahead. I guess now, from her
 
 Will o' the Wasp 205 
 
 course, she was going to cruise off the south 
 ern coast of the States, maybe going to join 
 Cockburn's squadron in the Chesapeake. 
 
 She was n't hurrying at all, and she likely 
 took us for a friend, for she began just at 
 the edge of the dark, when we were maybe 
 two miles to windward, to signal us with lan 
 terns. By and by, however, she quit this, 
 for we paid no heed ; she luffed, took in sail, 
 and aloft goes a ball that suddenly broke 
 out into her colors. 'T was too dark to 
 make 'em out, but they were n't the gridiron 
 or the tricolor, that was plain. 
 
 " Union Jack, I guess" says a lad to me. 
 " Well, Bill, we '11 have a closer look at the 
 rag in a jiffy," he says, laughing. 
 
 A minute later she fired a gun towards us. 
 'T was a long gun I guess, and the shot 
 hummed away in the dusk a few hundred 
 feet across our bows. I ran below like a 
 flash, for I had something to do before I was 
 called to quarters. And this is what it was. 
 
 I had to get a word somehow to Nancy ; 
 't was no use, I could n't go on with her a
 
 206 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 doubting me, thinking me a liar. So though 
 I 'm no fist at the writing, I made out to get 
 a word or two on paper, and this is what it 
 was. 
 
 " Miss NANCY BARKER Dear lass You 
 wrong me cruel when you call me a liar. I 
 never lie, and to you I never could. I kind 
 of half cared for Lindy Truby, but the day 
 before I shipped her father warned me I 
 could not have her, because he found I was 
 drunk one night, which I was and which 
 sailors sometimes is, and no great blame 
 thinks I. I cared so little that I was willing 
 to ship, and next day I sent a locket and 
 word that I was blacklisted, and said I gave 
 up any claim I had, but maybe if I came 
 home honorable and would lay a better 
 course, she 'd take me again on trial, in a 
 manner of speaking. There was no promise, 
 lass, just a coil of ' ifs,' and then I saw you 
 and loved you from the first, and love you 
 now I always will. And I say this as we 're 
 running down to fight a ship that ought to 
 eat us up, only it '11 have to chew hard to 
 do so, and maybe 't is the last you '11 ever 
 hear of your loving friend, 
 
 " BILL FRY."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 207 
 
 I went to her cabin with this letter think 
 ing to slip it under the door. The door was 
 open and no one inside. I stepped in to lay 
 it on the bunk. I 'd never yet been in the 
 room of a girl I loved, and 't was a strange 
 feeling. Her dresses that she 'd made her 
 self were hanging about, and a few other 
 clothes. There was a kind of a perfume- 
 like that made me think of her, and sort of 
 turned me weak. 
 
 On a locker where the wash basin was I saw 
 two little bracelets of cord, woven and twisted 
 pretty, that I 'd done for her. She used to 
 wear 'em always before we had our quarrel, 
 and now she 'd taken 'em off. But it made 
 me sorry, not mad. I 'd but little time now 
 for thinking of Nancy Barker, and I was n't 
 going to think hard of her in what time was 
 left. On a peg hung her jacket that she wore 
 as a " vivandeer," and sudden the idea came 
 to me to slip the note into its pocket. If I 
 came out of the action, why, I 'd give her 
 word of it, if not, some day, and soon, for 
 she often wore it, she 'd put her hand in the 
 pocket and get my letter.
 
 208 Will o' the Wasp . 
 
 So I steps over and slipped it in. And 
 though it maybe don't sound seamanly to 
 tell of it, much less to do it, I put my head 
 into the flannel and kissed it a half dozen 
 times, and felt for a minute a good deal like 
 a boy that 's leaving home for the first time. 
 
 Then all of a sudden I heard the drums 
 on deck bang and rattle, and I jumped and ran 
 away forward and up through the forecastle 
 hatch upon deck. I saw in a minute that 
 we were in for the best fight of our lives, 
 for not half a mile aport lay the ship we 'd 
 picked upon, for that 's what we did, in a 
 schoolboy's lingo, and she was a frigate.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HOW I SAW THE LAST OF THE "WASP." 
 
 OHE was n't a 32 that we could tell 
 she was a bigger ship than the Essex, 
 as big, I guessed at the time, and later found 
 was true, as the Shannon. I don't know why 
 Captain Blakely did n't sheer off when we 
 got near enough to see this, but I guess he 'd 
 made his mind up to take a frigate, and 
 McKnight was pushing him on if that was 
 needed, which the Lord knows it wa' n't. 
 Hardly was I on deck when across the sea 
 came a hail, remarkably distinct for the dis 
 tance, but the wind was almost gone and the 
 sea very smooth. 
 
 " What ship 's that ? " came the hail, and 
 Lieutenant Baury jumping onto the quarter 
 rail, yells back : 
 
 " What ship 's that ? " and I heard a laugh 
 14 209
 
 210 Will o* the Wasp 
 
 among two or three of the officers, and one 
 says : 
 
 " Gad, Baury, he '11 know us for Yankees 
 now, answering question with question," 
 and in a minute the hail came again : 
 
 " Who are you, damn you ? " 
 
 " Tell 'em, Mr. Baury," says Captain Blake- 
 ly, very cool, in a voice that was quiet but 
 heard all along the deck, and the Lieu 
 tenant shouts : 
 
 " U. S. sloop Wasp," and hardly was the 
 sound of his voice gone when she let go a 
 broadside. Mostly high the balls went, but 
 one of 'em hit us fair in the quarter, splin 
 tered the bulwark and sent a piece of wood 
 flying among the officers who stood by. It 
 struck one of them ; 't was poor Baury, I 
 think, and I saw him carried below, and 
 there was no more time for aught but caring 
 for our own guns. 
 
 Up spoke our port guns. What they did 
 we could only guess, but we felt they 'd been 
 heard from ; and then in a minute came the 
 boatswain's whistle and quick orders, and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 211 
 
 aloft went a gang of the men, the ship wore, 
 topsails were backed, and then we seemed to 
 be waiting. 
 
 We could see in the dusk that the enemy 
 had come about and had tried to stand across 
 our bows, and we knew Blakely had spoiled 
 the move. 
 
 She could n't rake us maybe, but she had 
 the mind to board us, and as we pushed a 
 little ahead giving her another broadside as 
 we went, she tacked and stood down upon us 
 trying to run us aboard about our port 
 beam. 
 
 But Blakely saw the game, wore ship, 
 stood away, and beat it again. She could 
 not come aboard us then, but she ran up, for 
 fast she was, and no mistake ; and ranging 
 alongside, not more than pistol shot away, 
 let us have her starboard battery, with a 
 "peppering of musketry. 
 
 'T was a well aimed broadside and brought 
 our maintop to the deck. This was a new 
 experience to our lads, but little time they 
 had to sense it. As it crashed and ripped
 
 212 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 through shrouds and ropes to the deck 
 hanging at last caught in the hamper of sail 
 and rigging, our broadside barked again, and 
 again we wore, for Blakely saw the enemy at 
 her old trick, trying to cross our bows. 
 Slowly we went this time, like a wounded 
 duck, and for a minute the thought came to 
 me, hot and busy as I was, that we 'd our 
 hands more than full this time. Again we 
 got her starboard guns, and again and again 
 we spoke back from our port battery. 'T was 
 not so furious and fast as in the Reindeer 
 and Avon fights, but 't was harder hitting, 
 that is, harder on us, at any rate. And when 
 the deep roar of the broadsides would cease 
 for a minute, the nasty rattle and slam of 
 musketry kept the dance going. 
 
 Our topmen were like all Yankee topmen, 
 the best of their kind, and fairly kept the 
 tops ablaze, but they were suffering too, and* 
 now and again one of them would come 
 head first to the deck. 
 
 " Look alive," yelled my gun captain, and 
 hauled me to one side as I was stooping to
 
 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 lift a shot, and crash on the deck, head first, 
 came what was Dick Allen. His brains flew 
 right and left over the men who 'd laughed 
 with him that night at mess. 
 
 'T was but one of a dozen sights like it. 
 We were suffering above and below, and an 
 other broadside dismounted the shifting 
 carronade and flung it athwart its gunner, 
 pinning him, shrieking, to the deck, like a 
 big dog gone mad and throttling its master. 
 
 We saw it all, but could not stop to think 
 of it. Our gun was red hot, but it had no 
 rest, no more than we. Our crippled broad 
 side spoke again ; 't was like the voice of a 
 man with his best teeth gone, but 't was the 
 well known voice none the less. 
 
 " Oh, my God," says Mr. Tillinghast, who 
 stood behind me, " if there was something 
 to show us how she 's getting it. She must 
 be cut up, too, she must be," he says, al 
 most crying, brave man as he was. Ah, that 
 was it, we knew how we were faring, but we 
 could n't see how deep we bit. 
 
 Suddenly there came a lull, and then all
 
 214 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 of a moment the smoke was cleft by flashes 
 that came from due ahead. The enemy had 
 run across our bows and raked us fore and 
 aft! 
 
 Guns leaped from their trucks, the wood 
 of the galley .and the boats flew through the 
 air, men dropped about us like flies, and a 
 voice yelled loud and shrill " We 've struck, 
 we Ve struck ! " 
 
 I turned and howled ; what I said I don't 
 know, 't was blasphemy, I guess ; right in 
 the teeth of death a man will take God's 
 name and never mean it, and I was not alone. 
 Men who were lying half dead about the gun 
 raised themselves and cursed. 
 
 " No, no, no ! " they yelled, and a bloody 
 tar, whose leg was hanging by a shred 
 dragged himself half way across the deck. 
 
 " Where 's the cursed coward who says 
 we've struck?" he cried, in a voice weak 
 with lost blood and husky with rage. 
 
 " Where is he, damn him ? Let me get a 
 shot at him," then I saw him level a pistol 
 and fire. Some one yelled and dropped in
 
 Will o' the Wasp 215 
 
 a heap on the deck from the shrouds where 
 he 'd been clinging. 
 
 " 'T is Pico, the Portugee," says the 
 gun captain to me, very quiet, the quiet of a 
 man who saves his breath to fight with " no 
 Chesapeake business here," and just then 
 down the deck hurries a man I 'd never 
 known before. " Never known," say I, 
 though 't was Captain Johnston Blakely, but 
 a stranger was he to me in his mood this mo 
 ment. His uniform was half torn away, he 
 was black and grimy from working at some 
 gun, his head dripped blood from a splinter 
 wound, and nothing was bright and ship 
 shape aboard him but his eyes. God, how 
 they shone ! 
 
 "Get aloft, get aloft," he yelled, "leave 
 your guns, get aloft. We must wear ship, 
 lads, and quick, quick, quick ! " he shouted, 
 and like the great man he was, the man of 
 hands, as well as heart and head, he jumps 
 into the rigging, and the few of us left able 
 to, followed him. 
 
 'T was God's mercy we were still pretty
 
 216 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 sound above. The British had .fired low for 
 the first time in our cruise, and their good 
 gunnery stood us in this time. Like a thing 
 that goes by instinct, though sick and dy 
 ing, the good Wasp wore, and as she wore, 
 we came down to deck anyway, by shrouds, 
 by ropes, by jumping and dropping, got to 
 our gun, there was just one left of the port 
 battery, my old pet six, and let her drive. 
 She did n't speak again ; with the discharge 
 she burst, and my gun captain died along 
 side of her. 
 
 But she had her say before she went. 
 
 What she did I never knew till later, but 
 there came a thundering sound as of powder 
 blowing up and a cry from the frigate after 
 it, shrill and high, and then for a minute all 
 was still but the panting and groaning that 
 came from the deck like the noise of a gale 
 in the rigging. 
 
 I was not hit, nor touched even why, I 
 can't tell. But I was red with the blood of 
 better men than me, and black with sweat 
 and the grime of the best gun that ever sang 
 in a broadside.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 217 
 
 I looked about me. There was a little 
 group near the quarter-deck. A knot of 
 marines were huddled with some pikemen 
 just abaft the mizzen, and two men stood a 
 little apart from them. One was Blakely 
 and one McKnight. 
 
 Just then the breeze freshened for a min 
 ute into a strange little sucking, swirling 
 gust, the smoke lifted, and there, close along 
 side, lay the ship that we were fighting. Ouj- 
 deck was a slaughter-house, but so was theirs 
 as well, and her sails were ribbons, her main 
 mast gone, and she was afire. 
 
 Cheer ! How the poor lads tried to cheer 
 when we saw it, but the noise was more like 
 gasping. Afire she was, and her men run 
 ning about like mad devils, working over 
 the flames ; but none the less we saw that 
 she was coming aboard and that her boarders 
 were gathered in the bows. I saw Blakely 
 turn and hold his hand to McKnight, and 
 then " Stand by to repel boarders," came 
 along the deck. 
 
 'T was like the resurrection trumpet. 
 
 Men who were lying half stunned and
 
 2i8 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 faint from blood staggered onto their feet, 
 gripping the bulwarks or whatever came 
 handy to steady by. Pikemen and marines 
 who 'd lain close waiting for this moment 
 jumped up. Poor beggars, they 'd seen their 
 friends die around 'em by the score, and no 
 hand in the game themselves. But now 
 their turn had come, and as the frigate's bow 
 cut upon our port quarter and her great 
 bowsprit ripped and tore among our ropes 
 and tackle, they ran yelling to the point 
 where already the British were pouring 
 aboard. They 'd stored their fight so long, 
 our lads, they 'd boiled and raged so long 
 inside, that they were madmen. I was with 
 them ; every man left of the port battery 
 was there, for the guns had gone, and our 
 chance now lay in cutlass and pike. 
 
 'T was desperate hard fighting. Twice 
 we beat 'em back, but the third time they 
 came again and stronger yet. We were 
 driven aft, inch by inch ; in a minute they 'd 
 ha' been in possession of the ship, when the 
 Lord sent the mizzentop, shot through and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 219 
 
 through, and heavy as lead with its weight 
 of dead topmen, thundering into the very 
 midst of them. Some were killed outright, 
 some sprang into the sea to escape, some 
 were cut off from the others and left to us, 
 and we gave account for each man. The two 
 ships were parallel, for the push of the 
 frigate's bow had straightened our course, 
 so that we were lying in the wallow of the 
 sea, side to side. 'T was our own chance to 
 board, and Blakely knew it. " Boarders 
 away," he roared, and up we swarmed. 
 
 I say swarmed, 't is but a word I use be 
 cause it comes handy. There was no swarm 
 of us, the Lord knows. But what were 
 there were true " wasps," and had stings. 
 Some of the lads jumped for their deck. I 
 made a dash at an open port whose gun had 
 been knocked off its truck. I thought there 
 were others behind me. I heard some one 
 climbing and panting. Some one passed me 
 quickly, and in the smoke of the musketry 
 that rattled from their decks, in the smoke 
 and flying cinders of the smouldering fire,
 
 220 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 for the British had put out the flames, a 
 figure like a boy's jumped by me into the 
 open port. 
 
 I thought 't was John Rawlins, a lad of 
 but eighteen ; we had a number of such 
 aboard, and I yelled and followed after. 
 When, as I jumped, and landed by the dis 
 mounted gun, the figure turned, and like a 
 flash a cutlass swung and struck me over the 
 head. I fell like a log, but before the blow 
 took me I saw the lad was none but Nancy 
 Barker. 
 
 I was stunned for a few minutes, but I 
 came to before long, and as I raised myself 
 on my hands and looked out the port I saw 
 and heard the same noises that sang in my 
 ears when I went down. Musket firing and 
 clash of steel and shouting of seamen. We 
 were still alongside and I could see right out 
 on the deck of my old ship ; 't was an easy 
 trick, for her bulwarks were torn away in 
 places like lacework. Both ships lay almost 
 without headway. I knew the Wasp had
 
 Will o' the Wasp 221 
 
 quit minding her helm, and my thought was 
 the enemy had as well. 
 
 " If once we could get ahead, turn and 
 come back with our starboard guns a-bear- 
 ing/' I says to myself, "the game 's ours; 
 but then if she does and we don't, it 's the 
 end for us." 
 
 I say I thought this, if I thought anything. 
 Sometimes I think all this came to me after 
 wards, for I was little better than dead as 
 I leaned against the broken gun-truck. 
 Everything looked like one of those toys 
 they give children, that you turn and shake 
 and all sorts of changes and colors come 
 and shift and go. I saw lights flash when 
 muskets cracked, I saw men running to and 
 fro upon our decks. I saw them cutting and 
 thrusting at other men I saw them drop 
 and I saw them sometimes stagger to their 
 feet again. Then all would be quiet except 
 for the noise the men would make, panting 
 and groaning and wailing. Then all seemed 
 to begin again, but fainter each time. As I 
 write it now it seems to me like two men
 
 222 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 I 've seen clinched in wrestling, resting and 
 struggling, stopping for breath and then to 
 it once more. 
 
 I guess I fainted again something hap 
 pened just what, is hard to tell, but I be 
 came aware that the ships were drifting 
 apart or we were going ahead. That was it 
 we were going ahead in a wind that fresh 
 ened, and I knew now that the fight was 
 over, or soon must be. The musket fire 
 broke out afresh from above my head. I 
 heard men calling to one another and cursing 
 the bloody Yankees as the Wasp dragged 
 by. Not a man did I see upon her decks 
 astir. But now and again a flash would 
 come from her foretop and a ball would 
 whistle and spit upon the frigate's decks. 
 
 Slowly the battered sloop crept by. A 
 lantern or two gleamed amidships, and one 
 still swung farther aft. In the stillness, for 
 though all was not quiet, 't was stillness 
 alongside of what had been, I could hear the 
 wounded and dying, and see here and there 
 a man rolling and twisting in the death grip.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 223 
 
 Would we escape, I wondered, would Blakely 
 try and bring his starboard guns to use? 
 What good was that, I thought ; no men to 
 serve 'em, and Blakely, where was he now ? 
 
 Slowly the Wasp slipped by, and then as 
 she drifted away into the night, I saw, stand 
 ing by a stern-chaser, erect and quiet, life 
 in every line of him, my Captain, Johnston 
 Blakely. Not a gun, not a pistol-shot came 
 from sloop or frigate. Not a word, and even 
 the groans of the wounded seemed less to 
 me. Faint and hanging against the broken 
 gun-truck, I strained my eyes after the sloop 
 as she crept by, and the man who fought her 
 as well as he loved her, and that is enough 
 to say. The wind that was getting fitful 
 swirled a cloud of the overhanging smoke 
 down upon the frigate. When it lifted no 
 Wasp was there. 
 
 No sound now that was n't human was to 
 be heard, nothing but cries and groans, and 
 now and then orders not sharp and loud, but 
 you might almost say whispered, in voices 
 hoarse and choked and weak. I don't know
 
 224 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 how the sloop pushed ahead and away, unless 
 't was because she was lighter and easier 
 drifted. I remember little more, and that 
 little is that I crept away myself into the 
 darkness of the gun-deck and among men 
 that groaned as I touched them in the dark, 
 and others that lay still and did not groan 
 nor speak. I seemed to recall later, a noise 
 as though the wind were singing high, aloft, 
 and that there was the roll of a heavier sea 
 outside.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 HOW I CAME ON PAROLE TO PLYMOUTH 
 TOWN. 
 
 1 KNEW nothing more till I sat up in a 
 bunk and looking around saw faces I 
 did n't recognize and knew that I had n't 
 been dreaming. 
 
 " Be quiet now, my man," said a voice be 
 hind me, " you 're going to pull through 
 thick head-pieces you Yankees carry about 
 now then, lie still ; yes, you 're a prisoner, 
 if you want to know, aboard His Majesty's 
 frigate, Sardis, and we 're being pretty care 
 ful of you, for you 're the only one we Ve 
 got. Now then, lie quiet, for there 's some 
 questions got to be asked you by and by." 
 
 The man who spoke to me was a surgeon 
 rough he was, but a kind man, too. I lay 
 quiet, what else was there to do, and what 
 *s 225
 
 226 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 with a buzz in my head that whirled and 
 had bright colors in it when I stirred much, 
 my mind did but little work all that day, and 
 this was three days after our fight, they told 
 me later. But next day I was more myself, 
 and the surgeon, Carr was his name, told me 
 the Captain was coming to talk to me. 
 
 Now here 's a strange thing to tell, 
 whether I was cracked in mind as well as 
 head ; whether my weakness and the flurry 
 of a British bigwig a pumping me, got hold 
 of me, I don't know, but sink me if I could 
 remember what ship I 'd been on or where 
 I 'd been cruising, or how long. All that 
 would come to me was that I 'd served 
 aboard the Essex, and 't was her I thought 
 the Sardis had engaged. 
 
 " My man," says the British captain, 
 " what 's your ship ? " 
 
 "The Essex, your honor," says I. 
 
 " Don't lie, you hound," he says, very hot. 
 " The Essex was took five months ago. 
 Where have you been cruising? " 
 
 " The South Seas, your honor."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 227 
 
 He ripped out an oath. " I '11 find a way 
 to make you tell the truth," says he, " if you 
 try that game again with me," he says. 
 " Now your ship was the Wasp, your captain 
 was Blakely, you Ve been in the Channel 
 Chops and off Fayal, so you see I know all 
 that. Now tell me what weight of metal did 
 ye carry ? " 
 
 " We had thirty-two guns, sir." 
 
 "Ah," he says, chuckling, " Carr, 't was as 
 good as a frigate, and but little lighter than 
 us. Go on ? " 
 
 "We 'd 255 men aboard, for a few were in 
 the Essex Junior" 
 
 "You damn Yankee," he shouted, jump 
 ing up. "Did you hear me? You '11 get 
 ten dozen if you don't stow your bloody lies 
 about the Essex. Now harkye, no more. 
 What 's your weight, tell me and tell me 
 true." 
 
 I lay back on the bed. It 's God's own 
 truth, I could n't get to my mind what he 
 wanted me to. The Essex was clear enough, 
 but the Wasp was n't even as much as a
 
 228 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 dream. I guess I looked pretty pale and 
 badly used up, for Mr. Carr speaks out : 
 
 " Captain," he says, " this man 's too weak 
 to talk to like a well man he 's maybe a 
 stubborn dog, but leave him to me, I '11 get 
 word from him," he says, and the Captain 
 left us. Later in the day, the Surgeon comes 
 in and sits down by me and gives me a drink 
 of something that hearts me up a bit. 
 
 " Now," says he, " my man, I '11 tell you 
 what went on four nights ago, and maybe, as 
 a lawyer 'd say, ' 't will refresh your memory.' 
 
 " At seven o'clock we sighted a ship, cor 
 vette build, that came down fast and steady 
 to us. Later we signalled with lanterns and 
 got no answer. Then by and by we 
 hailed and got reply that 't was the United 
 States sloop-o'-war, Wasp. Now," says he, 
 " don't that jog your memory ?" 
 
 " Well," says he, for I lay still, not yet get 
 ting my bearings, " about nine o'clock we 
 engaged you and there was hell's delight for 
 the next hour and a half. We shot your 
 main top off and the mizzen as well, and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 229 
 
 raked you fore and aft, and you set us afire 
 and carried away our mainmast, silenced our 
 starboard battery and played the devil among 
 the Leslies generally," says he, " now do you 
 get into the wind ? Not yet, hay ? " 
 
 " Then we boarded and came back again, 
 and then you came aboard through a port, 
 don't you remember now, and got your nut 
 sliced as you came. What, you beggar, 
 don't you take yet ? " 
 
 " Doctor," says I, " I know there 's some 
 thing I can't bring back I know it 's there, 
 and I guess what you say is likely it, but I 
 can't, so help me, patch it up." 
 
 " Well, well," says he, " as long as you 
 give up your yarn about the Essex you 're 
 getting along. But I say, my man," says he 
 suddenly, as if an idea had struck him, 
 " don't you remember a pretty lass as had 
 been aboard your ship Nancy Barker ? " 
 
 Ah, it was coming back now, coming so 
 that I put my hands across my face and 
 groaned and twisted on the bunk. 'T was 
 coming back, that fearful night, the bloody
 
 230 Wilt o' the Wasp 
 
 ruck of the Wasp's deck, the useless guns 
 burst or dismounted, the swivel carronade 
 atop its gunner, the burning frigate, and the 
 falling topmast, my leap into the port, and 
 my last sight of Nancy as she swung her cut 
 lass round. 
 
 When a little time had gone and I took 
 my hand from my face and looked at the 
 Surgeon, he knew from my eyes that the 
 compass was lighted again and I could lay a 
 course. He sat back in his chair and laughed 
 a bit ; he was a kind man, though rough. 
 
 " By the Lord," says he, " there 's human 
 nature ! A woman's name will bring back 
 what even a tale of glory won't for lad," 
 says he, leaning over towards me, " I 'm a 
 loyal servant of King George, but I can ad 
 mire pluck and courage in an enemy, all the 
 more if he 's got much the same blood as I, 
 and I tell you 't was glory, glory, no less, 
 that your Captain, God rest him, wherever he 
 is, got three days agone. You 're smaller 
 than we, I know well," says he, " and yet 
 't was nip and tuck. Now then, can you tell
 
 Will o' the Wasp 231 
 
 us what your metal was, the girl was too 
 shaken up to just recall." 
 
 ' The girl," I cries, " Nancy ! " 
 
 " Aye, aye," says he, looking sharp at me, 
 " the lass we put aboard the Cawnpore, 
 Indiaman, the day after the fight, her and 
 our wounded we kept you, my boy, for 
 information, and we wanted it bad enough 
 to give you a cabin to yourself so as to save 
 your precious hide, for that same," says he, 
 laughing again, " so just loosen up and let *s 
 have a little now." 
 
 " Just one thing, Doctor," says I very 
 quiet, " did she know I was aboard ? " 
 
 " She ? 'T aint likely ! You were never 
 found till she 'd left the ship. You were 
 stowed away under a devil's own hamper of 
 truck, and came within an ace of going over 
 board in a canvas nightshirt too but come, 
 come, Captain Henderson's waiting for that 
 information, speak up, my lad, and lively as 
 may be. What was your armament ? " 
 
 " Eleven guns broadside, stern-chasers, and 
 a swivel carronade, sir,"
 
 232 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " Come, come, don't lie to me," says he, 
 very stern. 
 
 " As God 's my judge," I says, raising my 
 right hand. 
 
 He gave a long whistle " Well, and how 
 many men ? " 
 
 " One hundred and sixty-eight, sir." 
 
 He got up and took a step about the 
 cabin, there was room for but just one step, 
 and then sat down. 
 
 " What 's your name ? " says he. 
 
 " Bill Fry, sir." 
 
 " Where born ? " 
 
 " Biddeford." 
 
 " Oh ho, a Devon man I daresay there 
 were plenty more English aboard the Wasp 
 as well?" 
 
 I got a little hot, weak as I was. 
 
 " Doctor," says I, " I 'm from Biddeford, 
 true enough, but the Biddeford I hail from 
 is in the State of Maine, and as for the rest 
 of the crew, barring a yellow cur of a Portu- 
 gee, that Bob Lowther shot dead for cow 
 ardice in the action with you, the crew was
 
 Will o' the Wasp 233 
 
 American from New England to the last 
 man," I says. " Captain Blakely was from 
 Ireland, came over a baby," says I. 
 
 " Well, well, well, be cool ! " says he, quite 
 friendly, " it 's all the same blood whichever 
 way. And I 'm glad Blakely was Irish," says 
 he, " for I 'm that myself, and I swear," says 
 he, " my lad, it 's proud I am he did n't 
 strike your blasted old gridiron, too," says 
 he. 
 
 " What, sir? " says I, " did n't you take the 
 Wasp ? " 
 
 " Take her ! Not a bit," says he, " don't 
 you remember, but of course, poor devil, 
 how could you ? she slipped away and the 
 wind came up heavy ; she was drifting only, 
 I fancy, but though we looked for her in the 
 morning for Captain Henderson 's a game 
 man, though I don't like him," says he, half 
 to himself, " and was bound he 'd have her at 
 last. She was out of sight at daybreak, and, 
 Bill," says he, quite solemn, for my face 
 showed how I felt, " a ship crippled like 
 tier makes sail and goes fast to just one port,
 
 234 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 Davy Jones's, God rest 'em," he adds, " what 
 was left of 'em ! " 
 
 I could n't say a word, but turned on my 
 side. I saw again my last sight of my dear 
 old ship, for I 'd got to love her next to 
 Nancy ; aye, that 's a true word, and the 
 face of Captain Blakely looking at us from 
 the quarter-deck, quiet, but unafraid and un 
 beaten, as the sloop crawled away. 
 
 " Bill," says the Surgeon, as he got up to 
 go, " I '11 try to have you put aboard some 
 ship bound to England if we meet one 
 you Ve money, I see." I had slipped some 
 and my little log-book inside my shirt when 
 we went into action sometimes I think 
 't was a forethought of what was to come 
 made me do so. 
 
 " Well, money and a civil tongue will keep 
 you safe enough in Old England till this 
 family row is done. Let me give you just 
 a word of advice. If Captain Henderson 
 asks you how big you were, say you carried 
 sixteen guns broadside and three hundred 
 men. The lie will make your life aboard
 
 Will o' the Wasp 235 
 
 here easier, and trust Manners's crew, when 
 the news gets out, to prove 't is a lie," and 
 so he left me. 
 
 Well, a couple of days later I was put 
 aboard a brig, the Calypso, from Cadiz to 
 Plymouth, and the Sardis went on into the 
 harbor of Cadiz which we were very near. I 
 never saw nor heard of Dr. Carr again. He 
 was a kind, humane man, and I guess a brave 
 one. He and all aboard the Sardis went 
 down in a great gale off Tarifa, trying to 
 stand around to Gibraltar to refit there. 
 
 'T is not a Christian way, but barring that 
 Dr. Carr went down along with his ship, the 
 thought that the little Wasp and my old gun 
 number six, made the Sardis the easy food 
 she was for the storm, comes to me again and 
 again and makes me proud. 
 
 Well, we had bad winds or none, and on 
 the 26th of October, 1814, they put me 
 ashore in Plymouth .town, thin and white 
 and shaky, twenty-five sovereigns in my 
 pockets and a hate for everything I saw in 
 my heart, for all this time I 'd been baited
 
 236 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 and jeered at and called " Yankee," till I 
 almost hated the good old word. And I 
 thought and thought of Nancy Barker and 
 fought down each day the fearful question 
 that came into my mind. And this is what 
 that question was, for 't was with me many 
 a long night and day : 
 
 " Did Nancy know 't was me she cut 
 down? If she did, why," thinks I, " I love 
 her ever so dear, even if so be our courses 
 cross again, that ends it all, but if 't was only 
 at one of the Wasp's crew hap-hazard, and 
 not at Bill Fry she struck, why when I find 
 her, for find her will I, to take or leave I 'm 
 hers." 
 
 And I went from one tack to the other 
 day in and out, now thinking the worst of 
 her and now almost crying to myself as I 
 thought of her pluck in jumping aboard the 
 Sardis, and swinging her cutlass so hand 
 some. 
 
 Well, I was some days in Plymouth lying 
 quiet, in a tavern where seafaring men were 
 used to stay. There were plenty of them there,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 237 
 
 the house was noisy, and I can't say for my 
 life why I went to the place, for 't was cer 
 tain to be known soon that I was American, 
 but seamen will get together whether friends 
 or not, and so to the "Anchor " came I. 
 
 They gave me a pretty good sort of a 
 room for I showed a fist full of the yellow 
 boys, and for a few days I kept my bunk. 
 Then I began to itch to get below and see 
 the lads that every night I heard roaring 
 songs, and now and again cursing the 
 Yankees and the French. Why they were 
 cursing the French just then I could n't tell, 
 for the two nations were at peace, but I 
 guess 't was a habit picked up in the long 
 war, and a sort of second nature. 
 
 My head troubled me some days, but I 
 did n't give it much thought. I had my 
 strength yet, or part of It, for one day a swab 
 comes lurching against my door, and says he : 
 
 " You bloody Yankee pirate, come on 
 deck," says he, " and I '11 break your head 
 over again for you," he says. 
 
 I just flung the door back and got him by
 
 238 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 the neck and under the right arm and slung 
 him down stairs. He fell hard but he was n't 
 hurt, and by and by when he 'd got through 
 cursing, he goes away. 
 
 I suppose he told a lot of mates below, 
 for soon up comes three or four and raps at 
 my door. 
 
 " Come," says I, and picks up an old pistol 
 I 'd bought the day I came ashore. Well, 
 they meant no harm, and were quite civil 
 spoken. 
 
 " Mate," says one, "we hear as how you 
 are an American seaman, and knowing this 
 war is still a-going, we 'd like to know just 
 how you come to be loose in Plymouth," 
 says he. 
 
 " Well, mate," says I, " seeing you 're civil 
 and don't want to break my head, I '11 tell 
 you. I have here," and I pulls it out, " a 
 parole from Captain Henderson of the Sardis, 
 if you know his fist." 
 
 One steps up. " I know it well," says he, 
 " for I was purser's clerk aboard a ship he 
 served on once, and that 's it all right."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 239 
 
 " Well," says the first one, " there 's no 
 news come of the Sardis taking any Yankee 
 warship, perhaps ye '11 tell us how you come 
 to be captured ? " 
 
 " Come below," says the man who 'd been 
 purser's clerk and who was a bit decenter 
 dressed and cleaner looking than the others. 
 " Come below and we '11 have a go of rum 
 or so. You '11 be treated respectful and fair, 
 lad," says he to me, " my word on that." 
 
 So down we went. There was quite a 
 crowd in the tap-room, and I saw as soon as 
 I 'd got set down to a table that I was a 
 curiosity. We got our rum, and one the 
 man who 'd first asked me of my being in 
 Plymouth and whose name was Hood says, 
 says he : 
 
 " Here 's to King George's navy, and to 
 hell with I don't know what he was 
 
 going to say, but the ex-purser's clerk calls 
 out: 
 
 " Hold your tongue, Hood," says he, " fair 
 play 's a jewel, and here 's a wounded man, 
 a Yankee, a drinking with us, and say what
 
 240 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 any man will, the American navy 's little, 
 but it 's the right seed for a big plant, by 
 thunder, and here 's to all good mariners who 
 talk King George's English, if you want the 
 old boy in the toast," says he, and we drank 
 around. 
 
 Well, pretty soon the man who took our 
 part, and who was called Mr. Stevens by the 
 others, says : " Now, mate," says he, " tell us 
 how you come to be with us. Jack always 
 likes a yarn, and I '11 go bail you have a good 
 one to spin," says he. 
 
 " Well," says I, for we 'd had a couple of 
 rounds by then and I was warming up, " I '11 
 tell you how it was, Mr. Stevens and mates 
 and all," says I very friendly, for if there 's 
 bad temper in much rum, there 's lots of 
 good humor in a fair load as well, " 't was 
 this a way. I was able-bodied seaman aboard 
 the Wasp " 
 
 " The Wasp" shouts Hood, " the Wasp, 
 eh. John," he yells to the tavern-keeper, 
 " here 's a man from the Wasp as took the Bon 
 Accord and lost you a neat venture, John."
 
 Will o' the Wasp 241 
 
 At this the man came cursing across the 
 floor and pushed up against me. 
 
 " What," says he, " is this one of the 
 Yankee pirates ? What 's he doing here, I 
 wonder?" says he, cursing and shaking his 
 hand at me. A lot of the others joined in, 
 and there was noise and oaths enough for a 
 
 spell. Mr. Stevens had been kind of took 
 
 i . 
 
 back, I guess, when he heard I was off the 
 
 Wasp, and you 'd think, to hear the swabs, 
 that the little sloop had bankrupted half 
 Plymouth ; but now he jumps up and says, 
 " Stow this, stow this," says he, " here 's a 
 coil about a wounded man on parole ; don't 
 ye see, you fools," he says, " that if this 
 man 's a prisoner on parole the ship he 
 served on 's taken or sunk ? " 
 
 Well, this quieted them a bit, but it stirred 
 me up. 
 
 " Easy, sir," says I, " easy, all. I boarded 
 the Sardis in the fight," says I, " was cut 
 down, and when the two crafts drew away 
 from each other I was lying helpless aboard 
 the British ship. Taken, the Wasp was not, 
 
 16
 
 242 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 nor could n't be," says I, " by any king's 
 ship that floats," and here I got up and 
 elbowed the tavern-keeper, who 'd been 
 cursing me, so he nearly fell across a table, 
 " sunk she may be, but the gridiron 's at her 
 peak, and you swabs may tie right up to 
 that," says I, and picked up a chair, for the 
 crowd was all going to come aboard. 
 
 But Stevens, who had a handy way of 
 speech with him and some kind of a hold 
 like, in the tavern, got 'em quiet, and says to 
 me, " You 're a Yankee, sure enough, my 
 man," says he, " for you Ve got the gift of 
 the brag," says he. 
 
 " Which they brought with 'em from Eng 
 land, and left plenty and to spare to home, 
 at that," says I. 
 
 He laughed. " You 're a blooming impu 
 dent beggar," says he, " but I like you, 
 and / don't say what you say of brag aint 
 true. But tell us more of the Wasp ; we 
 know about the bloody little craft, but we 
 want to hear more." 
 
 Now, just as he spoke, into the tavern
 
 Will o' the Wasp 243 
 
 comes another man, dressed like a gentle 
 man, in top-boots and carrying a whip. 
 " Stevens," says he, " I 'm glad to find you ; 
 I rode in from Bideford to-day, and there 's 
 a show there 't would please all good mari 
 ners. And who 's running it, d' ye think ? 
 Why, old Barker's girl, Nancy, who used to 
 help tend at this old 'Anchor/ " says he. 
 
 " Who?" says I, almost tipping the table 
 as I jumped up. Then I sat down sudden 
 for I thought my best way to get news was 
 to keep a close mouth and listen. 
 
 " Why, Nancy Barker, my man," says he, 
 "don't you know her? Every man who 's 
 paid for a pint in this inn knows her but, 
 Stevens," says he, paying no more attention 
 to me, " it 's the show that pleases me. 
 She 's got a house wagon that she travels in, 
 and letters on the outside calling her ' Gun 
 ner Nancy,' and saying she '11 give the true 
 account of how the famous Yankee ship, 
 Wasp, was sunk, and how she took part in 
 the action, and listen to this that she will 
 exhibit a fearful cutlass encounter between
 
 244 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 herself and one of the crew of the Wasp, a 
 Yankee on parole, who is part of the show. 
 How 's that for brass ? She 'd ever her share, 
 the vixen, but this tops all." 
 
 Well, I could have struck him for his tone, 
 and I could have cried for the thoughts that 
 sprang into my mind. But I held myself 
 down and Stevens and the others gave a 
 shout. When they 'd eased on laughing 
 Stevens says : 
 
 " Why, Squire," he says, " this lad here 's 
 a Wasp himself, and claims to have seen the 
 last of his ship and got a sliced coxcomb 
 into the bargain," says he. 
 
 " What," says the Squire, " is it so ? Well, 
 my man, you '11 remember Nancy, then, for 
 she says she was aboard the Wasp a prisoner 
 three months a nice sort of prisoner I '11 
 go bail, and one your Captain would n't be 
 in a hurry to exchange," says he with a 
 grin. 
 
 " Sir," says I, getting onto my feet, "there 
 was a lass of that name aboard the Wasp, 
 and she was as safe there, so far as decent
 
 Will o' the Wasp 245 
 
 treatment goes, as she would be here in her 
 native town, aye," and now my temper came 
 into the wind, " and from what I see I guess 
 a damn sight safer." 
 
 " Oh," says he, quite cool and sneering, 
 " you are n't talking to the marines, my 
 man, I guess "not," says he, mocking me. 
 " A likely tale that," says he ; " don't preach 
 your Yankee cant to us what do you know 
 of the ways of the ward-room your Captain 
 had a good eye for a good figure," says he, 
 and the next minute my glass broke across 
 his face. 
 
 Well, I can't remember all that took place 
 then. I recall a mix up of cursing and pot 
 throwing, of my swinging a stool about my 
 head, of getting hit from front and behind, 
 of Stevens howling " fair play " from atop 
 the table, of the Squire grappling with me 
 and flinging me out of the room under the 
 stars, and then all was black for a while. 
 
 When I came to, a man was washing my 
 face for me and gave me a drop from a flask. 
 "What 's wrong?" says I, quite weak; then
 
 246 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 when the man spoke I knew 't was the 
 purser's clerk. 
 
 " You poor devil," says he, " they Ve man 
 handled you and no mistake," says he, " but 
 you 're the biggest fool alive, I 'm thinking. 
 Now, if you Ve ever a bundle upstairs, I '11 
 fetch it for you here, don't ye stir till I come, 
 don't go back into the tap-room, or they '11 
 maybe kill you. I '11 get your kit and you 'd 
 best tramp. Get out of this town and keep 
 out, for the place is no fit one for a man that 
 can't hold his tongue with his life on the 
 game. Don't stir till I come back." 
 
 Off he goes and I began to feel myself 
 over. I 'd been kicked and beat and 
 mauled, but no great harm was done, though 
 my old wound had bled a bit. I was stiff 
 and sore, but well minded to get out of 
 Plymouth if I had to foot it. I felt for my 
 purse, and 't was still in my breeches pocket. 
 In a minute Stevens came back with my 
 bundle. 
 
 " Now," says he, " Bill Fry, you 'd best be 
 moving. Keep straight down the alley and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 247 
 
 you '11 hit the street ; bear to the nor'west 
 and you '11 be in the country in half an hour. 
 There *s not such a bad inn at Meavey, ' The 
 Plowshare/ and you can put up there for 
 the night ; but get out of this neighborhood 
 as soon as may be," says he. 
 
 " Thankee, kindly," says I ; " you 're a 
 man, sir, and a seaman," says I ; " and I 
 hope I may some time do a good turn by 
 you ; one thing, sir," says I, " is it the Bide- 
 ford road ? " 
 
 He looked at me, and I thought in the 
 dim light he was laughing. " Looking for 
 the lass, eh ? " says he ; " leave her alone, 
 my lad, for a shrew she always was and 
 always will be." 
 
 " One thing, sir," says I ; " shrew she may 
 be, but I Ve heard tell she was honest." 
 
 " Oh, you have, eh ? " said he, and then he 
 laughed, but kindly like, " well," says he, 
 " as you Yankees say, I guess she is, I only 
 guess you understand. She was always a 
 good enough lass, bar her temper, but vixen 
 and shrew she is, my boy, and good luck to
 
 248 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 you," says he, as he shook my hand and 
 turned away towards the inn. 
 
 By ten that night, nigh dropping with 
 weariness, I came to the " Plowshare " at 
 Meavey, and for sight of a couple of crowns 
 got lodging and a supper. Next morning, 
 stiff as I was, I was out and headed along 
 the pike for Bideford. 'T was a sweet day, 
 cool and bright. The fields were like our 
 fields in spring, and now and again I 'd see 
 roses blooming plenty. Folks eyed me close 
 sometimes, and some would cross the road 
 as I came by. I guess I looked hard, and if 
 I looked what I felt I must ha' been no 
 pleasant man to see. 
 
 If 't was fine weather outside there was 
 foul in my heart. Here was a rough-tongued 
 young swab talking of Nancy as if she were 
 all that I would give my life to ha' kept her 
 from. Here was she a-travelling about with 
 some man in tow, bold as brass, likely to be 
 insulted any time and, as I write now, I can 
 remember what" I felt when it came to me 
 then, that maybe she could n't rightly be
 
 Will o' the Wasp 249 
 
 insulted, and was no better than she 'd be 
 taken for. I wished a dozen times I 'd shot 
 her as she swung her cutlass over me in the 
 Sardis frigate, aye, and laid myself dead along 
 side. But see her I 'd made up my mind to. 
 I 'd ask her two or three things, come what 
 would. And I almost forgot my wound and 
 my bruises as I limped along in the dust. 
 
 That night I slept at a tavern just outside 
 the town of Okehampton. The next day's 
 jog would fetch me into Bideford.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HOW I FOUND NANCY, AND DROPPED 
 ANCHOR. 
 
 'T' H E next day was another fair one. 'T was 
 market day, too, and there were many 
 carts upon the road. Once in a while I 'd 
 get a ride ; one farmer knowing me for a 
 sailor, took me from Merton to Torrington, 
 nigh on to six miles, I should guess, so I 
 made good time. 
 
 At Torrington, outside the " White Boar " 
 tavern, I stood talking a little with the old 
 lad who 'd given me a lift, but who would 
 take nothing for it but a double pint of ale, 
 when up rolls a coach with a lot of jolly, 
 handsome-dressed bucks a-top. They shouted 
 for liquor, and a neat-looking girl came out 
 to serve 'em. After they 'd drunk and joked 
 with the lass, and lighted up pipes, and were 
 250
 
 Will o' the Wasp 251 
 
 about to drive on, one of them whose sleeve 
 hung loose caught sight of me. 
 
 " Hold on, Dick," says he to the buck 
 driving, " let me have a word or two with 
 that fellow yonder." 
 
 (" Bill," says I to me, " keep your temper 
 and talk smooth and respectful.") 
 
 " Here, you," calls he, " you 're a seaman, 
 what are you doing inshore when there 's a 
 bloody war on the seas ? " says he. 
 
 " Beg your pardon, sir," says I, " but I 'm 
 only going down Bideford way, on a short 
 leave, to see a friend," said I, " and I Ve a 
 bit of cut here, sir, that keeps me ashore 
 awhile." I lifted my hat and let them see 
 the bloody bandage across my crown. 
 
 " Well, well," said the gentleman with one 
 arm, in a softer voice, " I see you 're no shirk, 
 which I swear I took you for. Where did 
 the cutlass come from that gave you that ? " 
 
 " From a Yankee ship, sir ; do you know 
 the Wasp?" 
 
 " Do I know her, begad ? " says he, with a 
 laugh ; " look at this," and he swung his
 
 252 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 sleeve in the air ; " I lost that aboard the 
 Reindeer" 
 
 The look on my face as he said this would 
 have made him wonder, I guess, but just 
 then, " Oh, come, come, George," calls two 
 or three on the coach, " we '11 be late for the 
 fun, and we Ve heard about that Reindeer 
 fight too often already ; stow it, as you sailors 
 say Drive on, Dicky." And the coach rolled 
 away, the gentleman with the one arm swear 
 ing plenty at his friends and they a-laughing 
 and swearing a stave or two themselves. 
 
 " They be gay lads," says the farmer that 
 had given me the lift, " and one of them, the 
 boy with the arm gone, was officer aboard 
 one of the King's ships and lost his arm in a 
 sea-fight. He lives with his father, old Sir 
 George, back of Yarborough Warmouth 
 Hall is the place They '11 be going, those 
 lads to hear the lass talk and play broad 
 swords, the one who calls herself Gunner 
 Nancy, you '11 maybe have seen her down 
 Plymouth way ? " 
 
 " No," says I, " she 's not been there yet,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 253 
 
 but tell me, mate, what kind of a raree show 
 't is," says I, hoping to get a little news from 
 the old lad. 
 
 " Why," says he, " the lass goes about in 
 her little house wagon and there 's a chap 
 travels with her, he drives a bit cart be 
 hind," (Ah, thinks I, that 's better) " and 
 carries her tent and fixings. Then she ups 
 with the tent and puts a kind of stage like 
 before it, and lectures, as you might say, 
 about the war with the Yankees, and how 
 she was a prisoner aboard the Wasp, and how 
 she got away and whipped a chap as chased 
 her ; then out comes the lad that 's with her 
 and they fight a round or two with wooden 
 cutlasses, and then down he drops and that 
 is the end. 'T is a proper fine show," said 
 the old lad, " and a pretty lass too," says he, 
 a wagging his head, " but I doubt she 's a 
 vixen," says he. 
 
 I left the old man at Torrington and 
 footed it the rest of the way to Bideford. 
 At the south end of the town I saw a tavern 
 and I went in and got a long glass of ale.
 
 254 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " Where 's this show of the sailor lass ? " 
 says I to the barmaid. 
 
 She looked me over and laughed. " You 
 mean Gunner Nancy," says she, " why just 
 beyond the bridge in an open bit, a com 
 mon like," says she " half the King's 
 navy 's been along this way to see her," 
 says she, laughing again, " and I can't tell 
 why, the bold, forward creature she is." 
 
 I did n't listen to more, but was out and 
 down the road again, and not long after 
 came to the bridge and crossed. I saw a 
 crowd in an open lot, I saw a little round 
 tent, and behind it a wagon rigged like a 
 house on wheels and big signs swinging down 
 its sides. 
 
 " Gunner Nancy," the biggest of the signs 
 read. 
 
 " She will tell of her long captivity aboard 
 the Yankee sloop-of-war the Wasp. How 
 that ship at last was sunk by H. B. M. F. Sar- 
 dis, and how she made her escape, cutting 
 down and taking prisoner a Yankee who 
 pursued her. He is now on parole and
 
 Will o' the Wasp 255 
 
 attached to the entertainment, and will 
 engage in a fearful cutlass encounter with 
 his fair captor." 
 
 Here was enough to make a dead man 
 laugh, but there was no laugh in me. I 'd 
 given up trying to reason out what Nancy, 
 with her show and her follower and her 
 stories about the Wasp, and taking a Yankee 
 prisoner might have got to be ; gone wrong 
 or gone mad, I could not think which. But 
 I 'd made up my mind to see her and speak 
 with her, if but for a moment, and that I was 
 set on. As I slipped in among the crowd 
 about the platform in front her tent I saw 
 many of them were seafaring men, and in the 
 first row I saw the bucks who 'd driven past 
 me at Torrington. They were a jolly crew 
 and quite tipsy some of 'em, by now. 
 
 The crowd was a noisy one and kept 
 shouting, " Nancy ! Nancy ! Gunner ! Gun 
 ner ! " till presently the flaps of the tent 
 opened and she came out and curtseyed. 
 
 Aye, 't was Nancy Barker, none other. 
 She looked older, and sadder, yes and thin-
 
 256 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 ner, but 't was she. I turned half faint as I 
 looked at her and lurched heavy against an 
 old boy to my right, who damned me, and 
 told me to stop fouling of him. 
 
 There was something about the lass that 
 cut me to the heart and yet made me almost 
 wild with happiness. 'T was in her face. 
 She 'd bow and smile and strut up and down 
 the little stage, and maybe those who 'd 
 never seen her really smile thought her face 
 was always as it was this day, and that look 
 on it meant nothing and was always there. 
 I knew better. I 'd seen her face when she 
 was happy and 't was never the one she 
 carried with her as she waited for the crowd 
 to get still and begin her yarn. And at 
 times a glance would come into her eye that 
 I saw there the day Josh Sewall died and I 
 knew she 'd not forgotten yet ; and little as 
 it was, to know that she still remembered 
 me, for I felt sure 't was so, seemed for the 
 time enough for me, be she what she might. 
 
 As soon as the crowd got half-way quiet 
 she began. I can't give here all that she
 
 Will o' the Wasp 257 
 
 said, but 't was a lingo learned like a Poll- 
 parrot's. I 'd ha' laughed hearty at some of 
 it had it not been Nancy, and had there 
 been a laugh left in the locker, which there 
 wasn't, for 'twas ruck and rubbish. 
 
 " She 's never writ that herself," thinks I, 
 " too many words, and too little truth for a 
 lass like her." Why, she 'd speak of the 
 Yankees as if we could n't fight, and then in 
 the same breath she 'd tell how we 'd cut the 
 Reindeer into matchwood and sunk \ho.Avon. 
 How we could be such bloody cowards as 
 her speech made out we were, and yet do as 
 good work, beat me, but Lord, it pleased all 
 the crowd, the sailors chief, and they cheered 
 and shouted to her and chucked sixpences 
 and shillings on to the platform. 
 
 Then Nancy would bow and smile, that 
 smile that came and went without ever 
 knowing what her heart was thinking of. 
 
 I saw my gentleman with the one arm 
 did n't care much for this. Once when one 
 of his friends hit him a clap on the shoulder 
 
 and asked him why he did n't cheer, he said 
 17
 
 258 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 something very short. Well, so the thing 
 ran on. She told about the Wasp's crew, its 
 officers, and its guns. I found we carried 
 22 guns a broadside and 350 men in our 
 crew, and " of course," as a couple of chaps 
 near me said, " of course we could whip a 
 brig like the Reindeer easy." 
 
 By and by she came to the last fight. 
 'T was not so near the truth as the rest. The 
 hand that wrote the Reindeer and Avon en 
 gagements might ha' seen 'em, but never 
 that last grapple in the night. One thing 
 she did tell true, and that was the minute's 
 space that she sprang aboard the Sardis and 
 I after. 
 
 " 'T was this way," ran her yarn, so near 
 as I can repeat, " the Yankee sloop was help 
 less. She would not mind her helm, her 
 port guns were all dismounted, and she had 
 one hope, and that was to come aboard. A 
 wild hope and a mad one, gentlemen all, for 
 a Yankee to ever think to carry a King's 
 ship by boarding. At long bowls they may 
 be good, but foot to foot, hand to hand,
 
 Will o' the Wasp 259 
 
 steel to steel, no man can stand against a 
 true Briton." 
 
 Of course there was a shout and a cheer 
 at this. I heard the one-armed boy say to 
 another, " That 's a blooming bounce, but 
 she 's a pretty shrew ! " 
 
 " Just as they called ' Boarders away ! ' I 
 sprang up the hatchway," goes on Nancy, 
 " I ran to the port bulwarks, such as were 
 left of them, and sprang into one of the ports 
 of the Sardis. A sailor from the Wasp 
 leaped at the same moment, and I turned 
 and in a flash drew my cutlass and ' As 
 she said this the flaps of the tent flew open, 
 and a man rigged in American seaman's togs 
 runs out and they began a sort of broad 
 sword play. 
 
 There was great laughing and cheering. 
 You 'd ha' supposed 't was all dead earnest, 
 and aboard the Sardis, to hear them cheer 
 the girl and curse the poor devil who took 
 the part of the Yankee. As for me I was 
 two parts angry to hear us miscalled as we 
 had been, and yet with it all was a feeling,
 
 262 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 " I '11 do that, sir, thanks to you," says I, 
 and I looked at Nancy again. She was so 
 white and scared looking, and her hands 
 that had hid her eyes were clutching now at 
 her throat. I pitied her till I looked again 
 at the sneak at her feet, who did not dare 
 look me in the eye. 
 
 " One thing I '11 ask," says I, " gentlemen, 
 with your permission I '11 ask this lady if 
 I 'm not Bill Fry, of the sloop Wasp" 
 
 There was a stir at this, you may lay to 
 that, but 't was nothing to the yell that went 
 up when the girl said in a kind of whisper, 
 " Yes, 't is true, you are." 
 
 Well, there was another dash for me men 
 cursed and struck at me. The young officer 
 and his friends formed around me, but in 
 spite of this I was hit again and again with 
 sticks and canes. 
 
 " Let us have 'im, Mr. George, give him 
 up," yelled the crowd, " we 've all a score to 
 pay the Yankee pirate, give him to us." 
 
 " Give him to you, you cowards ! " yells 
 the lad back ; " scores to pay, do you say ?
 
 Will o' the Wasp 263 
 
 Why, have n't I a score against the Wasp as 
 well ? Look at this sleeve ! I have a score 
 to pay some day at sea like a man, not by 
 kicking and mauling and pounding an un 
 armed man, fifty to one," says he. " Get 
 back, get back, you know me, and you 
 know my father ; get back, or some one will 
 be laid by the heels ! " says he. " Now, my 
 man, "he says to me, "jump on the platform 
 and say your say." 
 
 I crawled on to the staging and staggered 
 to my feet I am obstinate and want to go 
 through with what I begin, and winded as I 
 was I says, catching my breath now and 
 again : 
 
 " I am one of the Wasp's crew, and I 'm 
 proud of it." 
 
 " Hold your Yankee brag, curse you ! " 
 yells a man. 
 
 " You Ve a right to be proud," says the 
 young officer. " Stop your blasted noise, 
 Robbins," says he to the man who cursed 
 me. 
 
 " And I saw the Reindeer fight, I was in
 
 264 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 it, and all the lass says is true. Only this, if 
 the Yankees are cowards, what praise is it 
 for Manners's men to make such a fine fight 
 when the odds were but three to two," 
 says I. 
 
 "A good point, a good point," says the 
 officer, " I can swear they 're no cowards. 
 I was there myself." 
 
 " And I saw our sloop sink the Avon, and 
 I was in the Sardis fight," I goes on, " and 
 right here I want to say, mates and gentle 
 men, that the lass is not fair to herself, not 
 fair at all. 'T was true she sprang into the 
 port of the frigate, as she says. 'T was true 
 a Yankee sailor followed her. 'T was true 
 she turned and cut him down, but 't is not 
 true that that man there, lying at her feet, 
 a sneak who deserted his ship before the 
 fight, was the man who followed. His line 
 is n't boarding ships, mates, not his. Little 
 credit to her to cut down that poor spirited 
 swab no ; the man she struck was a man, 
 a man, mates and gentlemen, and an able- 
 bodied seaman, and his name is mine. It 's
 
 Will o' the Wasp 265 
 
 Bill Fry, and here 's the mark of her cutlass 
 yet," and I staggered and half sank to my 
 knees. I did n't know what was up till, as 
 I took my hat off and pushed up the bandage 
 to show the cut, a stream of blood poured 
 down my face. A blow from some stick had 
 done it. 
 
 I did n't exactly faint, for I remember 
 what took place then. I see yet the look of 
 horror and self-reproach on Nancy's face as 
 she listened, and the tears that went down 
 her cheeks, her lips that quivered, and the 
 smile they tried to form, as she ran to me 
 when I tottered, and kneeled and flung her 
 arms around me. 
 
 " Mates," she cried, in her old way, " I 
 hear it now. 'T is my true love, Bill Fry a 
 Yankee, maybe, but a brave, true, kind 
 manner that I Ve been dying for ever since 
 I thought him gone. 'T is I struck him, 
 mates, but I did 't know him in the smoke 
 and the smother, and the wound that 's been 
 in my heart, lads, since I thought him dead 
 is deeper yet."
 
 266 Will o' the Wasp 
 
 This I remember, almost word for word, 
 and little else except the crowd a-cheering, 
 and the young officer shaking my hand and 
 Nancy's and cheering and crying as well. 
 
 'T is fifteen years since this took place. 
 Fifteen years since Nancy and I found each 
 other again. She 'd started her little show 
 and lecture to make her living. She landed 
 desperate, wretched, her money the little 
 she had on the Wasp, and nothing in her 
 pocket but my letter. 'T was this she read 
 over and over and believed one hour and 
 doubted the next, but she wore it close to 
 her heart, she told me. 
 
 One day Jim Downs, who was hanging 
 about Bideford, saw her sign and looked for 
 her. She knew him then for what he was, 
 yet as a venture they agreed to fix up the 
 little show together (he wrote the yarn she 
 spoke, as I suspicioned), but they were 
 partners only that far. 
 
 " Will," says she, " I don't want you to
 
 Will o' the Wasp 267 
 
 ask me if that coward has ever been more 
 to me than a kind of hired servant, and a 
 dummy man," says she. " I 'd despise you 
 if you could ask me such a question, but as 
 you want to know so bad," says she, kissing 
 me, " I '11 say that he was no more to me 
 than a dog, nor so much, for I '11 kiss my 
 dog, Boxer, and that 's more than ever I 
 did for Jim Downs, nor so much as touched 
 him, except with my foot, in the cutlass 
 fight," she says. 
 
 Yes, 't is many a long year since then. 
 What came to Downs I never knew. He 
 sneaked out of Bideford, and he never 
 showed face to me again. Nancy and I 
 were married in two weeks. " Short court 
 ship," says Sir George as now is, the young 
 officer who stood my friend and who swore 
 he 'd give the bride away, if only for a 
 chance to kiss her. 
 
 " Short, sir," says I, " not so very. We 
 were courting a bit on the Wasp, when we 
 were n't fighting," I says. 
 
 " It 's best short then," say he, " on the
 
 268 Will o-' the Wasp 
 
 present tack, for the Lord knows when you '11 
 begin fighting again." But 't was his joke, 
 that is all. 
 
 One might think, maybe, that two people, 
 as quick to pay away on the temper as 
 Nancy and I, would ha' found catspaws and 
 chopped seas in our course plenty. But 
 't was not so. The day we were married she 
 says to me, says Nancy : 
 
 " Will I '11 try, that 's the best I can say, 
 to be a good mate for you," she says. 
 
 " Mate ! lass," says I, " you '11 be captain 
 not mate," says I, joking, " that 's my rank," 
 I says. 
 
 " No, dear, you 're to command," says she, 
 and then for a spell we argufied, till at last 
 we agreed to both command, and both obey 
 orders, and our ship with its two captains 
 never struck foul weather or shoal water. 
 
 I was minded at first to go home, but Nancy 
 had such a love for England, and I can't 
 blame her, and I was n't needed at home ; 
 and when Sir George Warmouth offered me 
 the post of lodge-keeper to him I went.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 269 
 
 'T is not a bad job slow at times and dull, 
 but easy for one as has a bad nick in his 
 crown. Hard work, or work at sea, I never 
 could do again. Oh, the times I 've dreamed 
 of the fresh salt smell, of the snore of the 
 gale in the shrouds, of the pleasant heel and 
 dip of a clipper ship. But no more of that 
 for Bill Fry. When I 'm old, if I have a bit 
 laid by, I '11 go to where I can see the blue 
 water each day and each hour. Now I '11 do 
 what I may to keep a place that 's a good 
 one, all round. 
 
 My little lass has grown to be a big girl 
 now with a spice of her mother's spirit her 
 mother that 's gone these five years but not 
 her face there was never will never be 
 again in God's round world, a face like 
 Nancy Barker's to Bill Fry. 
 
 My boy is going in a few years, to follow 
 the sea as far as old New England, there 
 to be what he can't be here as good as the 
 next man, and a Yankee. 
 
 THE END.
 
 268 Will o j the Wasp 
 
 present tack, for the Lord knows when you '11 
 begin fighting again." But 't was his joke, 
 that is all. 
 
 One might think, maybe, that two people, 
 as quick to pay away on the temper as 
 Nancy and I, would ha' found catspaws and 
 chopped seas in our course plenty. But 
 't was not so. The day we were married she 
 says to me, says Nancy : 
 
 " Will I '11 try, that 's the best I can say, 
 to be a good mate for you," she says. 
 
 " Mate ! lass," says I, " you '11 be captain 
 not mate," says I, joking, "that's my rank," 
 I says. 
 
 " No, dear, you 're to command," says she, 
 and then for a spell we argufied, till at last 
 we agreed to both command, and both obey 
 orders, and our ship with its two captains 
 never struck foul weather or shoal water. 
 
 I was minded at first to go home, but Nancy 
 had such a love for England, and I can't 
 blame her, and I was n't needed at home ; 
 and when Sir George Warmouth offered me 
 the post of lodge-keeper to him I went.
 
 Will o' the Wasp 269 
 
 'T Is not a bad job slow at times and dull, 
 but easy for one as has a bad nick in his 
 crown. Hard work, or work at sea, I never 
 could do again. Oh, the times I Ve dreamed 
 of the fresh salt smell, of the snore of the 
 gale in the shrouds, of the pleasant heel and 
 dip of a clipper ship. But no more of that 
 for Bill Fry. When I 'm old, if I have a bit 
 laid by, I '11 go to where I can see the blue 
 water each day and each hour. Now I '11 do 
 what I may to keep a place that 's a good 
 one, all round. 
 
 My little lass has grown to be a big girl 
 now with a spice of her mother's spirit her 
 mother that 's gone these five years but not 
 her face there was never will never be 
 again in God's round world, a face like 
 Nancy Barker's to Bill Fry. 
 
 My boy is going in a few years, to follow 
 the sea as far as old New England, there 
 to be what he can't be here as good as the 
 next man, and a Yankee. 
 
 THE END.
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 ROBERT CAMERON ROGERS 
 
 Second Edition, 12, $1.25 
 PRESS NOTICES 
 
 " Other young poets might have written, each in his own 
 way, no doubt, ' The \Vind in the Clearing,' the concep 
 tion of which has not been fairly mastered by Mr. Rogers ; 
 but no other young poet, certainly none of American 
 growth, could have written some of the classical poems 
 which follow, and which are valuable additions to our 
 scanty store of genuine and noble classical verse. 
 He has something to learn, and will learn it, no doubt, 
 through future practice ; but he has not much to unlearn, 
 for he is not mannered in his diction, which is easy and 
 picturesque, and in his choice of subjects he shows the in 
 stinct of a true poet." RICHARD HENRY STODDARD, in 
 New York Mail and Express. 
 
 " There is always running through the book a vein of 
 feeling so exalted, and so well kept in hand by the shap 
 ing control of an artist, that the work will be read with in 
 terest by every lover of poetry." The Scotsman, Edin 
 burgh. 
 
 " It is most encouraging that several volumes of poetry 
 showing definite promise lor the future have recently been 
 published by young, untried poets in this country, where 
 the outlook in poetry has been of late years very disheart 
 ening. Among these younger men none has shown brighter 
 promise nor better achievement than Mr. Robert Cameron 
 Rogers." Literary World. 
 
 " Exquisite, in the good sense of the word, some of his 
 poems are, and, while others are less perfect, all are ani 
 mated by a deep and manly sentiment making pure joy in 
 the mind. . . . When his motive is Greek, his verse 
 is, contrary to the usual order, most natural, most spontane 
 ous, and most personal. He does not translate, he lives in 
 ' Blind Polyphemus,' ' Odysseus at the Mast,' and ' The 
 Death of Argus.' His thought is at once the Greek idea 
 and his own conception." N. Y. Times. 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, NEW YORK & LONDON