THE STEAM-TUG BILLY
Aunt Florence didn't forget 'Phonse, and it was evident to the marine
reporter's family that 'Phonse didn't forget her. He scarcely said
thank you when she gave him his new suit, but every morning while Aunt
Florence was in Mackinaw a bunch of wild flowers was found tied to the
front door-knob. Once only a bit of pasteboard was attached, upon which
was written in letters hard to read, "For billies ant."
At first the family wondered why 'Phonse kept away, but when they
learned that Antoine LeBrinn had sold his little son's new clothes for
drink, they understood.
"Poor little fellow," Aunt Florence said one morning, when a cluster of
bluebells was brought her, wound so closely not a blossom could move
its dainty head. "How I wish he would come again."
"He won't, though, 'cept when nobody knows," observed Billy, "and if
any one says a word against his father, he'll fight."
"I'm curious to see his father, too," replied Aunt Florence. "Betty has
told me so much about the family that I'd like to talk to that man; I'd
say some things he'd remember."
"Antoine used to come often," said Betty. "We always tease him to tell
stories. Everybody likes him; you'll see him sometime, auntie, and then
you'll like him, too."
"I shall tell him what I think of him," declared Aunt Florence; but a
week later, when Antoine came, she didn't say a word.
It was a rainy afternoon, and when Billy announced that the game
must be circus as usual, and that the parade should be first on the
programme, Betty objected.
"Billy Grannis," she exclaimed, "you're a nuisance. Gerald and I have
played circus with you until we are sick and tired of it. You may be a
lion-tamer if you want to, but you and your old lion will have to have
a show of your own. I won't stand it any longer, and you can't have my
cat for a polar bear, either."
"Why, Bet," was the remonstrance, "what makes you be so cross? I
thought you liked to play circus. Do you want to be the lion-tamer this
time, Bet? I'll let you take my big dog; do you want to, Betty?"
"No, Billy, I don't want to be anything that's in a circus, so there!
I'll play Grace Darling, though; you and Gerald and Hero may be the
shipwrecked sailors, and I'll be Grace Darling."
"I don't want to play shipwreck," declared Gerald. "I had enough of
shipwrecks when the _California_ went down."
"Me, too," echoed Billy. "I'd rather play Noah and the flood. Oh,
Betty, let's play that, and then my dog Hero can be the lion,--no,
Betty no, I didn't mean it; he can be the elephant, I mean, and your
cat can be a--a--what other animal is white 'sides a polar bear? And,
oh, Gerald, your bluest pigeon can be the dove."
"But why don't you want to play Grace Darling?" interrupted Betty.
"I'll let you take my dolls for the shipwrecked children, and I'll
live in the lighthouse."
"If you want to know what's fun," put in Gerald, "just listen to me.
Let's play--"
"But I want to play get the animals out of the ark," insisted Billy.
"And I say," Betty argued, "that you don't know whether you like to
play Grace Darling or not until you try it. Who's going to be captain
of the shipwrecked boat, you, Billy, or Gerald? Now, this rug is the
Northumberland coast."
"No, sir," shouted Billy, "it's Mt. Ararat."
"Why, children, what's going on?" asked Aunt Florence, who was passing
the doorway.
"We all want to play different things," explained Betty.
"Why don't you make signal-flags, like the ones on the chart?"
suggested Aunt Florence. "You know what I mean, Betty, the chart I saw
you looking at yesterday in your father's office, the one with the
pictures of signal-flags on it. I'll find sheets of red and blue and
yellow and white paper, and I believe you can have a nice time making
tiny paper flags. I'll get some paste ready for you, too."
"But what are the flags for?" asked Billy, "and why do they put letters
beside of them on the chart?"
"It tells all about the signal-flags in papa's marine directory, and
I'm going after it," announced Betty.
"She can tell you about the signals, Billy," said Aunt Florence, "and
let's see who can make the most perfect little flags. Gerald will help
you, Billy, won't you, Gerald?"
"Don't need any help," Billy hastened to say, "'less he wants to
whittle out flag-sticks."
"That's so, auntie," agreed Gerald. "I'll go after something to use for
flagstaffs."
"And I'm going after some shears and things, and then," said Billy,
"I'm going to cut out the 'B' flag. It's all red, auntie, and cut the
way Betty's hair-ribbons are on the ends. I guess I will make the 'Q'
flag, 'cause it's just a square made out of yellow; and the 'S' is
easy, too, just white with a blue square in the centre. Oh, auntie's
gone. Don't you feel queer, Hero, when you talk to somebody that isn't
there?"
Gerald and Betty returned quickly with coloured paper and a book.
"Now, Billy," remarked the little girl, in her most severe tone, "put
down the shears and listen a minute. I'm going to read out of the
Marine Directory."
"Don't read it; tell it," besought Billy.
"She wants to read it just because she can read big words without
stopping to spell them," declared Gerald, after a glance at the open
book.
Betty could read much better than Gerald ever expected to.
"It isn't that," was the reply, "but, if you will listen, you will
know that the book tells it all better than I can. Now listen: 'The
necessity for a uniform and comprehensive system of signalling at
sea'--Billy Grannis, stop making faces. I've got to begin it all
over again. 'The necessity for a uniform and comprehensive system of
signalling at sea and to shore stations on the coast of the United
States and other countries has long been felt and discussed by those
interested in maritime pursuits, and by the leading maritime powers
of the world.' Now, Gerald, stop acting like a goose. You and Billy
both know what 'maritime' means just as well as I do. Now listen, and
I'll go on. 'In view of this necessity, the adoption of a common code
of signals to be observed by all nations, discarding all other codes
and systems, appears to be in a high degree desirable and important.
The international code of signals has been recommended and adopted by
nearly all the principal nations of the world, and it is now the only
code recognized or of practical use. It is the only one which, from its
completeness, is likely to fully meet the existing need.'
"Billy, what ails you? Do stop laughing. What's the matter with you,
Gerald,--tooth-ache?"
"No, Betty, worse'n that. When I think how your jaws must feel, I--"
"Now, Gerald, I don't believe you know a word I've read."
"Well, Betty, I should say not. Who could?"
"What I want to know is, what are all these flags for?" demanded Billy.
"So please shut that old book and tell us."
"You horrid boys," exclaimed Betty, "I don't see how you ever expect to
'mount to anything."
"Wouldn't if we were girls," was Gerald's retort, which Betty didn't
seem to hear. She often had deaf spells.
"Now, Billy dear," she went on, "you see there are eighteen of the
signal-flags. They are marked B, C, D, F, G, H, J, K, L, M, N, P, Q, R,
S, T, V, and W. Besides these are two little pointed flags that mean
'Yes' and 'No.' The 'Yes' flag is white with a round red spot, and the
flag that means 'No' is blue with a round white spot on it."
"Oh, now I know," exclaimed Billy. "If your boat wants to tell another
boat 'No,' then it puts up the pointed blue flag."
"Yes, Billy, that's it."
"How do they use the other flags?" inquired Gerald. "You can't spell
things without _a's_ and _o's_."
"Don't you see, Gerald, each flag means something. Look on the back of
the chart and you will see how they use the flags. The first signal is
'H--B.' When those two flags are displayed,--'display' is the right
word to use, mister, so don't make eyes. When the 'H' flag and the
'B' flag are displayed together, with the 'H' above the 'B,' that's a
signal that means 'Want immediate assistance.'
"Oh, boys, now I'll tell you what let's play. Every ship, you know,
should carry a set of these signal-flags, so let's play we're all
boats. I'll be a yacht, I guess, because yachts are beautiful."
"I'm a steam-tug--choo--choo--choo!--and my name's the tug _Billy_.
Choo--choo choo--"
"Good, Bill!" exclaimed Gerald. "You're built just right for a tug. I
guess I'll be the schooner _Gerald_ of the White Star Line. Lumber's my
cargo."
"Dear me, I can't be just a yacht, sailing around for the fun of it,"
remarked Betty. "I must be part of the merchant marine myself."
"Part of the dictionary, you mean," grumbled Gerald.
Betty was deaf for a moment. "I guess I would rather not be what
you boys are, after all, so I'll be a passenger boat, the _City of
Elizabeth_. I'm an ocean liner."
"Oh, that's just like a girl," and Gerald laughed. "An ocean liner on
the Great Lakes. Oh, oh!"
"Did you ever get left, smarty Gerald? I tell you, I'm an ocean liner.
These signals aren't used on the Great Lakes, only on the ocean.
Besides that, if I'm a boat, I want the ocean to sail on. I couldn't
think of puddling around in a little bit of water. I'm the finest
steamship afloat, and I make regular trips between--oh, I guess London
and New York. That will give you some work to do, Billy, because I'll
need a steam-tug to pilot me into the harbour every time. You'll make a
dear little pilot-boat, you are so chubby."
"Choo--choo--choo! toot--toot--toot!" responded the steam-tug _Billy_.
"What's the use of making a full set of flags?" remonstrated Gerald.
"If we're going to play boat, let's play boat, and pretend we have them
all. I've made the 'N--M' flags, that mean 'I'm on fire.'"
"That's what I say," agreed Billy. "I found out that 'P--N' means 'Want
a steam-tug,' so I've made two sets of 'P--N' flags, one for you and
one for Betty to use. For my own self, the 'Yes' and 'No' flags are
all I want. You two better pin your 'Want a steam-tug' flags on; they
won't stay stuck. Choo--choo--choo! toot--toot! Here I come puffing
around--toot--toot--toot--see my black smoke! Oh, Bet, let's play there
came up an awful fog, so we'll have to toot our horns all the time."
"And keep our bells sounding all the while we are at anchor," added
Gerald.
When the three boats began making trips, there were collisions and
noise. Hero tried in vain to keep out of the way.
"He's a reef; there ought to be a lighthouse on him," suggested Betty.
"Look out for the St. Bernard Shoals," assented Gerald. "Hold on,
there's a tug ashore,--a wreck on the St. Bernard Shoals."
"Toot--toot--toot! puff--puff! choo--choo--choo!" This from the
steam-tug _Billy_.
"Tug is off the shoals, no lives lost," commented Gerald. "Oh, fire!
fire! fire! My deck is all in flames. Up goes my signal 'I'm on fire,'
and now where's my 'Want a steam-tug' signal. Oh, right here. I shall
be saved if the tug _Billy_ doesn't burst his boilers before he gets
here!"
It so happened that the tug fell sprawling over the St. Bernard Shoals,
and but for the timely assistance of the steamship _City of Elizabeth_,
the schooner _Gerald_ of the White Star Line must have been lost with
all on board. To be sure, Gerald emptied his pockets upon the floor,
insisting that everything that fell, from his jack-knife to marbles,
were frantic sailors, who either perished in the sea or were devoured
by sharks.
In the meantime, the St. Bernard Shoals made trouble for the steam-tug
_Billy_. "Can't even blow my whistle," puffed Billy. "Hero, let me get
up. Don't keep tumbling me over and over. Don't you know I'm a boat? Go
'way, Hero. Open the door, Gerald, so he'll go out. Call him, Betty."
Outside the window, Hero tried his best to persuade the children to
come out and play in the rain.
"Oh, dear, let's rest a minute," suggested Betty.
"And say over the verses we learned that day of the worst blizzard last
winter," added Billy. "You know what I mean, Betty, the rules for
steamers passing, and then, Betty, we'll play it is a dark night when
we go on some more trips."
"Oh, I'll tell you," put in Gerald, "we'll cut lanterns out of paper,
red and green and white ones, and pin them on."
"Begin the verses first, Betty; let's say them all together," suggested
Billy, "and say them loud so Hero can hear."
"Let me see," Betty hesitated, "the first one is this:
"'Meeting steamers do not dread
When you see three lights ahead.
Port your helm and show your red.'"
"Here's a red lantern for you, Bill," interrupted Gerald, "and this
is yours, Betty. Go on, why don't you? The next verse is about two
steamers passing."
"Oh, I remember; say it with me, boys:
"'For steamers passing you should try
To keep this maxim in your eye.
Green to green or red to red,
Perfect safety--go ahead.'
"Then, boys, the third verse is about steamships crossing:
"'If to starboard red appear,
'Tis your duty to keep clear;
Act as judgment says is proper,
Port or starboard--back--or stop her.
"'But when on your port is seen
A steamer with a light of green,
There's not much for you to do,
The green light must keep clear of you.'"
By this time three voices were singing merrily:
"'Both in safety and in doubt,
Always keep a good lookout.
Should there not be room to turn,
Stop your ship and go astern.'"
Billy gave a shout. "Oh, look, Betty! look, Gerald! There's Antoine at
the gate, and he's afraid of Hero. He doesn't dare pass him."
"He's calling you, Billy; go get your dog." Gerald laughed as he spoke.
"'Both in safety and in doubt, always keep a good lookout,'" mocked
Billy. "He's scared to death. Look at him back up when Hero walks
toward him. 'Should there not be room to turn, stop your ship and go
astern.' If Antoine was a boat, he could play Hero was an iceberg. Hey,
Bet?"
At last Antoine saw the children.
"If we don't stop laughing," warned Betty, "he'll go away. He may think
we're making fun of him."
"Oh, how I wish Hero would give one of his loud barks," added Gerald.
"Oh, I believe he will, sure as anything. He doesn't know what to think
of Antoine. I guess he never saw any one act so queer. Now just see him
stand there in front of the gate and make crazy motions."
Suddenly Hero gave three loud barks that startled the little Frenchman
almost out of his senses.
"Look at him jump," continued Gerald. "He went up in the air like a
rubber ball."
"It's too bad," protested Betty. "I'm going to the door to tell Antoine
that Hero won't hurt him. Billy, you go and get your dog."
"Oh, I say, Bill," suggested Gerald, "instead of getting Hero, why
don't you tow Antoine into port?"
"Oh, goody! Choo--choo--choo!--where's my tow-line?"
"Here, you rascal!" exclaimed Betty, "how dare you take my
hair-ribbons. Why, Billy, you'll spoil them tying them together in a
hard knot like that."
"One's too short--choo--ch--choo!--toot--toot--toot--French boat in
distress, don't you see? Gerald, you go and pin your 'Want a steam-tug'
flag on him."
Away flew Gerald, while Betty and Billy stood laughing in the window.
Antoine not only allowed Gerald to pin the flag upon him, but instantly
began making an active display of his signals, calling aloud for the
steam-tug _Billy_.
"Toot--toot--toot!--choo--choo--choo!" was the immediate response, and
the steam-tug went puffing to the rescue regardless of the falling rain.
"Make fast the hawser," commanded Billy, passing Antoine the tow-line.
"It's kind of short," he added, under his breath.
Antoine obeyed.
"Choo--choo--choo!--ding--ding--ding--make fast. Ding--ding--ding--let
go." Slowly did the steam-tug venture into deep water; too slowly to
suit Antoine, whose fear of the dog was genuine. Gerald had explained
that Hero never harmed any one Billy befriended, merely hinting at dark
possibilities that might befall the unwary. He also laughingly told
Antoine that Hero was not a dog, but a dangerous reef. In a short time
the little Frenchman had reason to believe that the reef was volcanic
in its nature.
"Choo--choo--choo"--on came the steam-tug, the French boat close
behind. "Choo--choo--choo--choo"--slower and slower the two approached
the reef, the steam-tug venturing nearer and nearer, to the dismay of
the boat in tow.
Four sharp whistles sounded from the tug. It was the danger-signal!
The steam-tug _Billy_ was on the reef, and but for the parting of the
hawser the French boat must have followed.
"Don't you try to run, Antoine," called Gerald; "you can't tell what
Hero might do. You better stand right still till Billy gets on his feet
again." Then he and Betty laughed. Terror was pictured on Antoine's
face as the dog barked and pranced around, thoroughly enjoying the
game.
Billy struggled to his feet. "Toot--toot--make fast," he commanded, and
Betty's hair-ribbons were once more tied together, how loosely only
Billy knew.
"Toot--go ahead," he sung out, but again the hawser parted, and
Antoine, watching Hero, dared not stir. "Toot--toot--toot," there
was the sound of laughter in the whistle, and the captain's
voice was scarcely steady as he called out, "Slow up," then
"Toot--stop--toot--toot--back up--make fast--toot--go ahead."
Safely into port came the French boat, in the midst of cheering from
the decks of the _City of Elizabeth_ and the schooner _Gerald_ of the
White Star Line.