Clipper Folk: Being the Chronicles of the House of Andrew Dougal ... and the Master Mariners who Gathered in the Captain's Parlour when Ashore

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W. Blackwood and Sons, 1920 - Clipper ships - 336 pages

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Page 146 - I've had at the back o' ma own mind all the time, only I was too slow in the uptak' t' dress it oot in proper words. She's got the gift of .yision, has this lassie o' yours, an' the power o' speech as well. Love casteth oot fear. A full interpretation in four varra modest words. And noo we'd better turn in, for " But the captain waved the suggestion aside.
Page 147 - You see, I'm no' saying that you've lived a selfish life, but you were fearful self-centred. You'd neither kith nor kin t' fend for nor tak' thought aboot, nor any other responsibeelity t' steel you to high endeavour. An' it isn't good for a man t' have his vision turned in upon himself. It narrows him, helps t' make him little and keep him so. And in some cases it breeds fear. In a general way — mind, I'm no' saying it's always so, but in a general way — bravery has its beginning in taking thought...
Page 107 - ... when time for reflection was given him, time for analytical dissection, Macdonald was astonished beyond measure by the paradox with which he was confronted. Above everything else did it seem to him that Gray's physical cowardice was much less remarkable than the moral courage of his self -exposure. Even granting the truth of his indictment, the man, without knowing it, was superb. It was hardly conceivable that it was himself he was attacking ; that it was he, Dixon Gray, who was the prisoner...
Page 110 - ... the Pacific. But in spite of the delay, through all the dragging hours he kept faith with himself. So far from weakening under the sapping attack of Time, as Macdonald secretly hoped, his resolution steadily hardened — was firmer at the end than the beginning. The cruise became stamped as The Voyage of the Last Things. When the Argonaut steamed out of Valparaiso harbour he rejoiced that at length he had struck the homeward track ; at the end of that tremendous beat round the Horn, as the black...
Page 124 - Terror o' the seas. Anything else ye like, so long as ye put plenty of hot stuff in. As for the port he's bound for and the plan he's working by, I'll fetch Ah Fang, and ye can have it yourself at first hand. I've nae doot that a Crown Coonsel 'd be able t' pick his evidence t' pieces, but it's the maist that seems t
Page 150 - I might have known. There's no keeping anything fra' a woman body, especially if she happens t' be in love. Mebbe I shouldn't have done it, for it's been a fearful risk — though I never thought of that ; I was so keenly set on Gray being given a chance t' prove himself a man through and through, that I clean forgot all aboot the crew and the ship and masel'.
Page 127 - The gesture was eloquently expressive. It embraced all that Gray was seeing and feeling. That profound calm, the flatness of the sea, its tremendous flatness, without a ripple or a curl, without anything except its feeble labored lift, no life in it, its very movement suggesting impotence rather than energy.
Page 124 - ... Klistian Chinaman," he nervously protested when Macdonald bade him " tip his yarn about Chung Won and his junk." His eyes darting from one man to the other, fingers nervously twisting and twining, he sought refuge in a profession of complete ignorance. "Me no catchee catchee anything. Men talkee talkee. Ah Fang listen. That all. No savvy." " And what was it you heard when you listened ?
Page 142 - ... Tell me about it, please." " There's nothing much to tell," he answered, bent now on making light of his exploit. " We were at Swatow when the gang put out to sea. Macdonald got wind of what they were up to, and wormed the rest out of one of the Chinamen. And we followed. That is all." " All ! " Her lips tossed the word back to him, rejected its assurance. " As if it could be. It is only a fragment. You have not even begun the tale. All this — the plot, its betrayal, your choice, the storm,...
Page 107 - Do you know, Mac," he said, lowering his voice impressively, " that when that packet hurled herself out of the fog I could have screamed ? Like one of those Dagoes who are always the first to start a panic. And I shall do it one of these days. You'll see. It's one of the awful things that paralyses me — that unborn scream with which I shall proclaim myself for what I am.

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