A Shark Story.
Someyears ago, while sitting on the quarter-deck of a West Indiaman, borne rapidly along before the trade wind, the captain and passengers were amusing themselves by telling stories and cracking jokes to beguile the sameness of the voyage. It came at last to the turn of a gentleman remarkable for his love of cigars and taciturnity; one who enjoyed a good anecdote, but abhorred the trouble of relating it himself. He was, however, so strongly importuned on this occasion, that with much reluctance he related the following, by fits and starts, filling up each pause by vigorous whiffs of his favoriteweed:—
In the year 1820, the good ship Rambler sailed from Greenock, with goods and passengers, towards Jamaica. She had crossed the tropic. One day, when nearly becalmed, the steward, who had the care of the captain’s plate, had occasion, after dinner, to wash some spoons and other articles in a bucket, and thinking he had taken all out of the water, he chucked it over the gangway, when, to his vexation, he found he had thrown out with it a valuable silver table spoon. He saw it shining through the clear blue ocean, and wavering from side to sideas it sank from his view. Several sharks had been observed near the ship, and it is known they generally dart upon anything white, a piece of rag often serving for a bait. He did not, however, observe any of them near the spot at the time; and the captain being a testy man, he kept the secret of the loss to himself, and the matter was soon forgotten.
The ship in due time reached Jamaica, and when the circumstance became known, the value of the spoon was deducted from the wages of the steward. The vessel lay some time at Kingston, received on board a cargo of sugar, and proceeded on her homeward voyage. When crossing nearly the same spot on the aqueous world where the spoon was lost, a number of sharks again showed their tail fins above the water as they cut along the ship’s side, or in her wake; and a shark hook being baited with a piece of salt pork, was lowered over the stern. Presently one of the largest of these devouring monsters, or, as the sailors call them, “Sea Lawyers,” half turning on its side, took the huge bait into his pig-like but tremendous jaws, and was securely hooked.
The fish was with difficulty hauled alongside and hoisted on deck, where it flapped about and showed prodigious strength and tenacity of life. When its struggles were ended by a blow on the head with a mallet, one of the men proceeded to open it. His jack-knife soon came in contact with something in its belly, and—said the narrator, with earnestness, “what do you think was really found?” “Why, the spoon, of course!” exclaimed the listeners simultaneously. “The spoon!” he rejoined, with a smile, “No! no!” “What then?” they hastily inquired. “Why, nothing but the entrails, to be sure!”
The taciturnity of the waggish messmate was not again disturbed for another story during the voyage.
Joyful Meeting.—A few days since, at Buffalo, a boat load of Germans landed from the canal, evidently direct from Germany. Among them was an old lady and some three or four children, quite grown up. Several tavern-keepers were around the boat, as is customary, to solicit patronage from the emigrants, and one of these approached the old lady, who, immediately upon seeing him, threw herself upon his neck and wept. The children also embraced him, and tears and smiles alternately bore their sway.
The explanation of the scene given was, that the old lady was on her way to Detroit in search of her husband, who had emigrated some years previous, and she had thus unexpectedly fallen upon him at this place. What a meeting!
Mirage.—Brig. Wm.Ash, 6th July, 1843, 8-1/4 P. M.—Being at anchor off the Pilgrims, riverSt.Lawrence, to wait the tide—fine weather and light wind, I was called to by our pilot, Wm. Russell, saying there was a ship sailing in the air. When, looking in the air, in the direction pointed out, I distinctly saw the appearance of a full-rigged ship, under full sail, passing very swiftly over the land, in a S. S. W. direction. I watched it with the spyglass, until, to my view, it vanished into smoke. It was witnessed also by the pilot’s apprentice, Dennis Glen.
Wm. Morrish, Master.
“OurFather”—said a bishop, who was benevolently teaching the Lord’s prayer to a poor beggar boy, to whom he had just given a hard crust of bread. “What,—notourFather,” said the boy. “Yes,” said the bishop, “ourFather.” “Then we arebrothers; and an’t you ashamed to offer your brother such a crust as this?”