The 'Lady Maud': schooner yacht, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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Page 101 - The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze up blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, Where they were wont to do: They raised their limbs like lifeless tools— We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pulled at one rope, But he said nought to me.
Page 156 - A few short hours, and he will rise To give the morrow birth ; And I shall hail the main and skies, But not my mother earth. Deserted is my own good hall, Its hearth is desolate ; Wild weeds are gathering on the wall; My dog howls at the gate.
Page 55 - U handiwork,' said Sir Mordaunt, who had been watching her in silence. ' She is a real creation — a living thing — full of instinct — owing her life to that same breath of heaven by which we exist. All else is more or less mechanical — of the earth earthy — and illustrates its perishableness by the very qualities which keep it flourishing. The grinding of a steam-engine makes us feel how small a flaw will stop it, and we think of coal and gauges and rivets. A grand building is stationary,...
Page 292 - Mr. Purchase, sir,' answered Tripshore, ' but he said no.' ' He's too drunk to know what he says,' I exclaimed, warmly. ' Go and reason with him. If he refuses, give the order yourself. I'll take care you are supported.' Here Sir Mordaunt, who was standing somewhere forward of the starboard main rigging, called to me — * What's the matter, Walton ? I hear your voice buzzing like a bumble-bee's. Anything wrong ? ' ' I was merely exchanging a few words with Mr. Tripshore,' I replied. ' I've been...
Page 77 - Your niece would shame some of those fellows, Sir Mordaunt," said. Norie. " I think she would like to be on the water all the year round." " Her father was a sailor — that may account for her taste." I asked if her father were living. " No, he died — why, it must be now over twelve years since — off the west coast of Africa, where he was then commanding a small vessel of war. What a fine, handsome man he was ! — a real heart of oak ! Why, I see him, Walton, as I see you, his brown face and...
Page 82 - ... that reason.' Here he gave another squint astern to see if Sir Mordaunt was still listening, and then walked a few paces to leeward and spat over the rail into the water, after which he came back. ' Men, we all know one another, and that's a good job. We're not aboard a coalman. I don't say it'll be all nothen to do but to sit down and be blowed along, unless we runs short of holystone, and lose pride in this here lovely whiteness and brightness,' pointing to the decks and to a brass binnacle...
Page 72 - ... Why, Mr. Walton,' said he, ' perhaps you don't believe that an earthquake will dislodge a whole town, and send it rattling down a hill ? ' ' Oh dear, yes ! I was laughing at the image presented to my mind of a crowd of negroes chasing a hill that was running off with their houses,' I replied, meeting Miss Tuke's eyes, and nearly bursting out again. ' I know what negroes are, Mr. Norie, and the noises they make when in pain or alarmed. But we ought to be able to manage without earthquakes.
Page 250 - It's been done over and over again," said I. " And it's too late for poetry," quoth Norie ; and pulling out his watch, he put it to his nose, and called out, " Only half-past nine, though ! - I thought it was after ten.
Page 2 - It was therefore settled that the cruise should be made in the yacht, which was forthwith equipped and victualled for the voyage; and among the persons invited to join Sir Mordaunt and Lady Brookes was the writer of this account of the journey and of the lamentable shipwreck and sufferings of the people concerned in it. I was willing to go for several reasons. First, I had been to sea for eight years in the merchant service, and had passed an examination as chief mate, when my father died, and bequeathed...
Page 280 - ... again in a deep angry note at the water, as it swelled up almost flush with the rail when the vessel sank her stern. There was something very fine and picturesque in the brute's posture as he balanced himself to the lifting and falling, whilst, with cocked ears and gleaming eyes, and shining fangs just distinguishable under the black leathern-like flesh of his jaws, he snapped with a deep-throated note. I called to him, being afraid that he would slide overboard during one of the heavier dips,...

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