THE YOUNG SKIPPER OF THE BANSHEE.
“What boat’s that?” said Tom Walton to me, as we walked down to the
shore where the Belle was moored.
“That’s the Banshee,” I replied, quietly.
“Never heard of her.”
“She is new--just finished.”
“She’s a first-rate boat, and has a bully name,” added Tom, as he
critically surveyed the new craft.
The Banshee was larger than the Grace, and was really a magnificent
boat. Tom was delighted with her, and expressed his admiration in the
warmest terms. I am willing to acknowledge that there was a conspiracy
against Tom; but the time for springing the trap upon him had not quite
arrived. I had engaged him to take out a party to sail that day. We
went on board the Belle; but Tom kept one eye on the Banshee all the
time.
“Can’t we go aboard of her, Wolf?” asked Tom.
“We haven’t time now. There comes Major Toppleton, with his family; and
we have to go over to Centreport for the rest of the party.”
“I should like to ask how large a party you intend to take out in the
Belle. There are five of the Toppletons, and you and I make seven.”
“We will go over and see how many there are on the other side,” I
answered quietly.
We crossed the lake, and found five Wimpletons, Miss Dornwood, and Miss
Pinkerton.
“Good gracious, Wolf!” exclaimed the skipper, in a low tone, and with a
look of infinite embarrassment. “The standing-room of the Belle won’t
hold but ten, and they are crowded at that. We can’t carry them all,
Wolf.”
“We will try, at any rate.”
“Try! You might as well try to put a ton of hay into an egg-shell. You
can’t do it. You must sail the Raven, and carry part of them.”
“We will take them over to the other shore, and then decide what shall
be done,” I added, as Tom ran the Belle up to the landing steps.
The party entered the boat, and when they were seated, the
standing-room was quite full, for the ladies were considerably expanded.
“Where do you intend to put the other five, Wolf?” whispered Tom, when
we were under way.
“I don’t think we can put them into the Belle,” I replied.
Tom was very much troubled, and worried sorely. Why had I not told him
that our party was to consist of all Middleport and all Centreport?
He would have engaged another boat. He did not believe he had “feed”
enough on board for such a crowd. He continued to fret, in his
good-natured way, until we were within hailing distance of the Banshee.
“The Toppletons have all gone on board of that new boat,” said Tom.
“They probably want to see her. Suppose we run alongside, and take a
look at her,” I suggested.
“I should like to see her, first rate,” answered the skipper. “You
didn’t tell me whose boat she was, Wolf.”
“She was built for Captain Portman.”
“She’s a regular out-and-outer; and she will sail like sixty. Look at
that bow! She is sharp enough to cut cheese with; but she has plenty of
beam, and won’t be crank.”
Tom ran the Belle under the stern of the Banshee, and came up at the
accommodation steps on the port side. Like a gallant skipper as he was,
Tom assisted the ladies on board of the new boat, and then stepped on
deck himself. We walked about the beautiful craft, and the skipper
examined everything with a critical eye. Passing down the fore-hatch,
we entered the cook-room, which was fitted up with every convenience.
“I should like to be the cook on board the Banshee,” said Tom, as he
examined the appointments of the kitchen.
“Wouldn’t you rather be the skipper?” I asked.
“Perhaps I would, but I never expect to go skipper of such a nobby
yacht as this.”
“Possibly you may,” I added, as we passed into one of the two
state-rooms which occupied the middle of the vessel.
“What’s this for?”
“This is the captain’s room.”
“First rate,” said Tom, with enthusiasm.
We went into the other state-room, and then passed into the main cabin,
which was large enough to contain four berths. The floor was richly
carpeted, and the table was provided with racks and water pitcher.
There was an abundance of lockers and closets, which were stocked with
dishes and stores. Rich hangings partially concealed the berths, and
everything was as luxurious as the parlor of a gentleman’s house. Tom
gazed with admiration and delight at the elegant appointments of the
cabin. By this time the entire company had assembled in this stately
apartment, and all of them were watching Tom. No one noticed any of the
rest of us.
“Why, they are getting her under way,” said Tom. “Hadn’t we better be
off?”
“Not just yet,” I replied.
“But I’m afraid the Belle will be in her way.”
“It’s all right;” and I proceeded to point out the conveniences on
board of the yacht.
In a few moments we heard the rattle of the jib, and the Banshee was
off.
“I think we will go on deck now,” I continued.
“Why, she’s off now!” exclaimed Tom, springing to the steps. “Where’s
the Belle?”
“She is moored all right, Tom,” I interposed. “The ladies have
concluded to go in the Banshee if you will take the helm.”
“O, this was the game--was it?” laughed Tom. “I didn’t see how you
expected to carry fourteen in the Belle. I’ll take the helm, and glad
of the job.”
All the party followed him to the standing-room. Joe Poole, who had
formerly sailed with Tom and me in the Grace, had the helm. There were
also two men on the forecastle, coiling up the jib-halyards.
“Here, Tom,” I interposed, as he was about to take the helm from Joe
Poole. “You didn’t look at this arrangement for the spy-glass.”
I pointed to the glass, which was secured on a couple of spring
brackets, so that it could not be moved from its place by the pitching
of the vessel. Under it was a large silver plate, upon which an
inscription was engraved. It was placed directly over the entrance to
the cabin, and in calling Tom’s attention to the spy-glass, I intended
he should see this plate. All the party in the standing-room were
watching him with the most intense interest and delight.
“Good gracious, Wolf!” shouted the skipper, his eyes opening till they
were as large as the hawse-holes of the yacht.
I thought he would be crazy, he was so astonished and delighted. The
inscription on the plate was as follows:--
“_Presented to Captain Thomas Walton by the Directors of the Centreport
Bank, in testimony of their high appreciation of his gallant conduct
and skilful management in the capture of the robbers of their Bank._”
“I say, Wolf, won’t you make a little speech for me?” said Tom.
“Make it yourself, Tom. There is the president of the bank,” I replied,
pointing to Colonel Wimpleton.
“Colonel Wimpleton, this is handsome of you, and I thank you ten
thousand times--call it ten million times. If my heart were as big as
the moon, it would shake all over with gratitude. I don’t deserve
this, but I am the happiest skipper that ever trod a plank.”
The entire party clapped their hands, and seemed to be almost as happy
as Tom was.
“The money which that robber had in his bag would pay for a dozen such
yachts as this; and it would have been lost without you,” said Colonel
Wimpleton. “It’s only a salve for your wounded arm.”
It was some time before Captain Walton was in condition to take the
helm, he was so excited. He went all over the Banshee again, and I
attended him.
“So you were fooling me all the time, Wolf,” said he. “But you said she
was built for Captain Portman.”
“So she was; but as it was rather late in the season for him, he was
kind enough to let the colonel have her, and another will be built for
him before spring.”
“She’s a bully boat.”
“She will make your fortune, Tom, for people will like her.”
“That’s so. I can let the Belle, and run the Banshee myself.”
Tom finally cooled off enough to take the helm. He was the lion of the
day, and he handled the yacht so as to call forth the admiration of the
party. Colonel Wimpleton had consulted me in regard to the reward for
Tom, and I had suggested the yacht, because I knew she would enable him
to make a great deal of money. The magnate could not wait for a boat
to be built, and Captain Portman, to whom I applied for information
in regard to the cost of the Banshee, enabled him to obviate this
delay. Certainly Tom could not have been better suited if he had been
consulted. He was very grateful, and very modest, winning the regard of
all on board.
We sailed up to the Cataract House, where the company dined; after
which the excursion was continued to the head of the lake. All had a
splendid time; and, as Grace Toppleton was present, it was one of the
happy days of a lifetime to me. We landed Miss Dornwood and her friend
at Ruoara, and came to anchor off Middleport before dark.
The Banshee was immediately in great demand. Applications for her came
from every town on the lake; and when the season closed, Tom had money
enough to pay a quarter down on a house he bought for his mother. Joe
Poole ran the Belle when a skipper was needed by her party, and half a
dozen row-boats added to Tom’s income. One of his brothers attended to
the letting of the boats, and the next season Tom did a large business.
The family, by the exertions of Tom, was now on the high road to
prosperity.
* * * * *
A lapse of five years has produced no change in the pleasant relations
between the two sides of the lake, though it has witnessed many
changes in the circumstances of those who have figured in my story.
The Union Line is still a unit. The Lake Shore Railroad does a large
business. Captain Van Wolter still commands the Ucayga, and the only
sorrow of his life is the fact that his son has fifteen long years of
imprisonment before him. All the old students have left the Institutes,
and new ones have taken their places.
Tom Walton, with a great pair of bushy whiskers, still runs the
Banshee, and makes money in the boat business. He has built a very
comfortable double house near his boat pier, and lives in one side
himself, while his mother occupies the other. He is married, and is
regarded as one of the solid men of Middleport; he can no longer be
called “The Young Skipper of Lake Ucayga,” though his heart is as young
and fresh as ever.
There have been quite a number of new houses erected in Middleport
and Centreport. Near the mansion of Colonel Wimpleton is the elegant
house of Mr. Waddie Wimpleton. Miss Dornwood that was, Mrs. Wimpleton
that is, lives there, of course, and is highly esteemed by everybody
in town, not only as an elegant lady, but as a useful and benevolent
woman. By the side of this house is another, occupied by Mr. Thomas
Toppleton, for his lady desired to live near her mother and brother;
and it was whispered that her husband thought his chances of being
sent to Congress from the district in which Centreport was situated
were better than in the one to which Middleport belonged. At any rate,
Tommy has political aspirations, and is a rising man; and I am only
sorry that I shall not have the opportunity to vote for him when he is
nominated.
On the other side of the lake, between the mansion of Major Toppleton
and the shore, stands what I regard as a very pretty house. It was
erected by the major for the use of his oldest daughter, and we live
there. I shall be happy to introduce Mrs. Penniman to any of my friends
who call. I wish to say, aside, so that she will not hear me, that I
think she is even prettier now than she was on the day when I first
saw her, and helped her into the engine-room of the dummy. She is very
happy, and I am sure I am. Her father bestowed a very liberal dowry
upon her when we were married, and I have doubled my little fortune in
five years, so that we are abundantly provided with this world’s goods.
I am still the general agent of the Union Line, but I am not obliged
to work very hard. I am interested in several railroads, including the
Great Lake Shore in Ohio, which had the audacity to steal our name. My
father still runs the engine of the Ucayga, in connection with Christy
Holgate, who has been true to his high Christian aspirations. Lewis
Holgate did not turn out very well. He was discharged from his place on
the Lake Shore Railroad, and the last I knew of him, he was “firing” on
one of the main lines.
My mother comes over to our house almost every afternoon, where she is
always warmly welcomed by Grace, who loves her almost as much as I do.
I often think, when I see her, that the Bible lessons she taught me
have been the foundation of all that I am or ever shall be. I shudder
when I think where I might have been without her; and I do not think
it egotism for me to say, in view of the facts that the principle of
“Love your enemies,” which she imparted to me, was the basis upon which
the present happy peace between the two sides of the lake rested; for
Waddie and Tommy confessed that they had learned the lesson from me.
She is a good mother, and I shall love, and cherish, and pray for her
as long as I live.
The two bears are still alive, though the fun is all gone out of them.
They are now grave, sedate, and dignified bears, and as such, are fit
symbols of the Christian sentiment they represent. I am grateful to
them for the good they have unconsciously done, and I never call them
by any other names than BEAR and FORBEAR.
Transcriber's Notes
• Italic represented with _underscores_.
• Small Capitals converted to ALL CAPS.
• Illustrations relocated close to related content.
• Obvious typographic errors silently corrected.