Produced by David Garcia, Martin Pettit and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Transcriber's Note: The text on pages 93 and 95 was
transposed - it has been placed in the correct order.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.]
LITTLE BY LITTLE
OR
The Cruise of the Flyaway
BY
WILLIAM TAYLOR ADAMS
(OLIVER OPTIC)
CHICAGO
UNION SCHOOL FURNISHING COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
TO
CHARLES LABAN ADAMS
This Book
IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
BY HIS UNCLE.
PREFACE
In presenting to his young friends the sixth volume of the "Library for
Young People," the author cannot be unconscious of what the readers of
his former books require of him. They will turn the leaves of "Little by
Little," expecting to find an abundance of stirring incidents; and he
hopes they will not be disappointed. Some of the older readers and
sterner critics will look for romantic and rather exaggerated events;
but he thinks they will look in vain, for as we grow older we become
more reasonable, and do not expect showers of gold to fall upon every
seedy hero, or to see nice young gentlemen leap over lofty precipices
without sometimes being dashed to pieces.
But the author hopes that something more than exciting incidents will be
found upon his pages; that, though he has seldom, if ever, gone out of
his way to define the moral quality, or measure the moral quantity, of
the words and deeds of his characters, the story will not be found
wanting in a true Christian spirit.
Paul Duncan, the hero of this volume, is a nautical young gentleman, and
most of the events of the story occur upon the water; but the author
hopes his young lady friends will not make faces at him on this
account. The boys insisted upon having a sea story, and being the "lords
of creation," of course they must be indulged; but the writer most
solemnly promises to remember the girls next time.
Thanking my young friends again for the continued kindness manifested
towards my pets, I give them "Little by Little," hoping that the
excellent spirit of Paul Duncan will pervade their minds and hearts, and
lead them forward to the material and moral triumphs which crowned his
useful life.
WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
DORCHESTER, August 28, 1860.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Paul Duncan Disobeys Orders 9
II. Paul is Cool and Self-possessed 19
III. Paul Hears Bad News 28
IV. Paul Becomes the Head of the Family 38
V. Paul Cooks His Own Breakfast, and Goes a-Fishing 49
VI. Paul Makes a Good Speculation 59
VII. Paul Goes Into Business on His Own Account 69
VIII. Paul Takes a Cold Bath 79
IX. Paul Becomes the Skipper of the Fawn 89
X. Paul and John are Very Much Excited 99
XI. Paul's First Cruise in the Fawn 109
XII. Paul Sleeps on His Watch 118
XIII. Paul Makes a Night Run in the Storm 127
XIV. Paul Scolds the First Officer of the Fawn 137
XV. Paul Goes on a Cruise in the Flyaway 146
XVI. Paul Witnesses a Mutiny 156
XVII. Paul Discovers that Mischief is Brewing 166
XVIII. Paul is Made a Prisoner 176
XIX. Paul Takes Command of the Flyaway 185
XX. Paul Exercises a Strong Moral Influence 194
XXI. Paul Advances Little by Little, and the Story Ends 203
LITTLE BY LITTLE;
OR,
THE CRUISE OF THE FLYAWAY.
CHAPTER I.
PAUL DUNCAN DISOBEYS ORDERS.
"I'll give you a quarter, Paul, if you will take me down to the Point in
your boat," said Thomas Nettle, as he came down to the beach where the
boy addressed was baling out an old dingy-looking boat.
"It blows too hard," replied Paul Duncan.
"The club went down in their boat."
"But it didn't blow so hard then as it does now. It's a regular
sou'easter."
"What are you afraid of, Paul?"
"I'm not afraid; but there's no use of risking your life for a quarter."
"I'll give you a half, then."
Paul Duncan hesitated. Half a dollar was a great deal of money to him,
and more than often found its way into his exchequer. He glanced at the
white-capped waves in the bay, and then at Thomas.
"There's no ballast in her," said he.
"Put some rocks in, then."
"I think it's rather dangerous, and I don't believe your mother would
agree to have you go out in a boat in such a blow as this."
"My mother! Humph! Let me tell you I'm not tied to my mother's apron
string. I think I'm old enough to have a will of my own. Don't talk to
me about my mother," replied Thomas contemptuously. "I'm not a baby."
"Just as you please; but I think it blows too hard to go out."
"Let me have your boat, and I'll go alone then, if you are afraid to
go."
"I'm not afraid," answered Paul, stung by these repeated implications
upon his courage. "Jump in, and I'll give you enough of it before you
get half way to the Point."
Thomas got into the boat, which was anything but a beauty in her shape
and appointments. Paul pushed her off the beach upon which she had
grounded, and as she receded from the shore, leaped on board of her.
Placing an oar at the stern, he sculled her out a short distance from
the land, and then shook out the sail. The first flaw of wind that
struck it heeled the boat over so far that Thomas leaped with desperate
haste up to the windward side.
"Don't be afraid, Tom," said Paul, with a smile. "She has got the wind
now."
"Who's afraid?" demanded Thomas.
"I thought you were by the way you jumped."
"Well, the gunnel of your old craft went under."
"Not quite."
"I say it did; and you don't suppose I was going to sit there and be
spilled into the drink--do you?" continued Thomas, sharply.
"I won't dispute with you; she heeled over, as a boat always will when
she first gets the wind."
"You think you are an old salt, Paul, but you don't know enough to
navigate a herring pond."
"Just as you like," replied Paul, whose good nature was proof against
the assaults of his companion. "I don't pretend to know much; but I
think I understand this old boat pretty well."
"Paul! Paul!" cried a voice from the shore.
"That's my mother," said the young boatman, as he discovered a woman on
the beach. "What do you want, mother?"
"Come ashore," replied Mrs. Duncan, whose voice was almost drowned by
the noise of the waves as they beat against the boat.
Paul's mother seemed to think she had said enough, for her son was
generally a very obedient boy, and she turned to walk up the bluff
towards the house. But she knew enough about the management of a boat to
perceive that, in this instance, her order was not obeyed.
"Come ashore right off, Paul," she repeated with an emphasis that was
calculated to make an impression upon the rebellious party.
"Do you want me, mother?" asked Paul, as he put the boat about, and
brought her upon the home tack.
"No, I don't want you; but it blows too hard for you to be out there.
You'll capsize, as true as you're alive," replied Mrs. Duncan; and
seeing the boat headed towards the shore, she hastened home.
"Are you going to back out, Paul?" demanded Thomas, as the boat came
about.
"My mother won't let me go," replied Paul, rather sheepishly, for he was
not proof against the derision of his companion.
"Won't let you go!" sneered Thomas.
"You heard what she said."
"I did; my mother would no more dare to say as much as that to me than
she would dare to cut my head off. She knows her place better."
Paul was not a little shocked by this unfeeling speech, and could not
help seeing that Thomas had not much regard for his mother. For his own
part, he loved his mother very much, though he was not exactly willing
to confess the fact to a boy who entertained such opinions as those of
Thomas Nettle. He had been accustomed to obey his mother for the respect
and love he bore her, and it had never before occurred to him that she
overstepped the bounds of reason and propriety in presuming to command
him. Paul had the reputation of being a good boy, both at home and
among the neighbors; but it must not be inferred that he was perfect,
that he never disobeyed his father and mother,--though the instances
were very rare,--or that he never did what he knew to be wrong. He had
his faults and his weaknesses; but for the present I shall let my young
reader discover them from what he says and what he does. He was
disturbed by the derision of his friend, no less than by his impudent
self-possession. He even asked himself why he should be tied to his
mother's apron string, as Thomas expressed the subjection of the child
to the parent. He was only a year younger than his companion, and he
began to question whether it was not about time for him to assert his
own independence, and cut the apron string when it pulled too hard upon
his inclination.
Paul was the oldest of a family of six children, and was now in his
fourteenth year. His father was a journeyman ship carpenter--an honest,
temperate, hard-working man, who was obliged to struggle with the
realities of life in order to win a comfortable subsistence for his
large family. In the inoffensive sense of the term, he was a poor man;
that is, he lived from hand to mouth, and had not saved a single dollar
with which to meet the misfortunes of life. But he had brought up his
family as well as he could, and given the oldest the best education his
limited means would afford.
Thomas Nettle's father was a wealthy merchant, who had retired from
active business, and lived upon his beautiful estate in Bayville, in
which transpired the events of my story. Major Nettle, as his townsmen
called him,--for he had attained to the rank indicated by his military
title in the militia,--was an easy, careless man, and had but a very low
appreciation of the moral and religious duties and responsibilities of a
parent. It was a favorite theory with him that a boy would do well
enough if only let alone. It was of no use to cram his head or his heart
with notions, as he called them, about morality and religion; the boy
would find them out himself when he wanted them. In support of his
doctrine, he used to point to the minister's son who was in the state
prison, and the deacon's son who had run away to sea to avoid the house
of correction. Of course, then, Master Thomas Nettle's parental training
was never very severe, for he had no one to dispute his independence
when he chose to assert it.
Paul had seen enough of the world to find out that wealth commands a
certain respect, and he could not always keep down a sense of deference
with which his rich companions inspired him; and when they admitted him
to their friendship, he could not help being greatly influenced by their
words and their actions. Thomas was always dressed well, and always had
money in his pocket; and these things made Paul realize the difference
in their social positions. It is true, he tried to make himself believe
that he was as good as any one else, and would not bend his neck or his
knee to the smartest boy in Bayville; yet he could not but feel the
disparity between himself and the sons of his rich neighbors. He would
not go out of his way to court their favor, though it flattered his
vanity to be their chosen companion.
"Steady! why don't you luff her up, when the puffs come," said Thomas,
as a flaw of wind struck the sail, and careened her so far that she took
in a little water over the side.
"Oh, I don't mind a little dash of water over the side," replied Paul,
with a smile; for it must be owned that he was disposed to punish his
companion for the imputations he had cast upon his seamanship and his
courage.
"Well, are you going ashore?" continued Thomas. "Are you going to let
your mother domineer over you? If you do, I hope she will put you in the
cradle and rock you to sleep when you get ashore."
"We must get some ballast," answered Paul, who had not yet got far
enough to declare his independence of maternal authority.
"You are afraid to go!"
"I think I can stand it as long as you can."
"Then what are you going ashore for?"
"After more ballast," replied Paul, who, though deeply stung by the
sneers of Thomas, had not yet decided to disobey his mother.
"Will you take me down to the Point when you get the ballast?"
"I don't know; I'll see."
The old boat dashed on, and in a moment or two grounded upon the beach.
There was a great struggle in the soul of Paul. He did not like to go
contrary to the express command of his mother on the one hand, and he
did not like to incur the derision of Thomas on the other, for he would
tell it to all the boys who would call him "chickenish."
"There are two rocks that will just answer your purpose," said Thomas,
as they leaped out of the boat. "You take one and I will take the other.
Come, bear a hand, or I shall not get to the picnic till the fun is all
over."
The two large stones were placed in the boat, and still Paul was
undecided. He had not the courage to face the ridicule of his
independent friend, nor the heart to disobey the mother whom he loved
and respected.
"I guess I won't go, Tom," said he, as a momentary resolution supported
the better impulse of his nature.
"Chicken-hearted! Are you afraid of your mother or of the wind and
waves?" sneered Thomas, and his features curled up into an expression of
contempt which moved the hesitating boy quite as much as his words.
"Of neither. If you think I'm afraid to go any where that you dare go,
you are very much mistaken. It's a very easy thing for you to stand
there and talk, but when the boat takes in a pint of water over the
side, you jump as though an earthquake had taken you all aback," said
Paul, smartly.
"Humph. Get into the boat, and we'll soon see who's afraid; though
perhaps you had better go and get your mother to go with you."
"I have proved you to be a coward, and I don't think there is any use of
going now. I don't like to be in a boat with a fellow who is skittish
when the wind blows," continued Paul, who was determined to make the
most of their previous experience. "It isn't safe to have a fellow
jumping about in the boat when there's a heavy sea on. You might upset
her, cantering about over the thwarts like a frightened colt."
"You are smart, Paul; but your big talk sounds silly while I stand here
and stump you to carry me down to the Point. You are afraid of the sea,
and afraid of your mother. You dare not go!"
"Jump in!" cried Paul, desperately, as his failing resolution fled
before these taunts. "Jump in, Tom."
"Now don't back out if you happen to see one of your mother's aprons on
the clothes-line."
"Never fear me; and if you don't wish yourself ashore before you get
half way to Tenean Point, I lose my guess; that's all," answered Paul,
as he pushed the boat off into deep water. "The wind is dead ahead, and
we must beat all the way down."
"Put her through, Paul."
"Ay, ay, my hearty, I'll put her through, and you too," replied the
young boatman as he shook out the sail, and hauled the sheet home.
As she felt the strong blast, the old boat lay down before it, and a
large wave broke over her gunnel; but Paul luffed her up, so that she
did not fill. Whatever Thomas thought of this stirring experience, he
kept his seat upon the weather side, and appeared to be perfectly
unconcerned. As they came out from under the bluff, where the windows of
the house above commanded a view of their position, they were discovered
by Mrs. Duncan, who again hastened to the beach to repeat her command
more imperatively than before. Paul had steeled his heart to do wrong in
this instance, and he pretended not to see or hear her; and the boat
dashed on her course.