SNUG-HARBOR;OR,THE CHAMPLAIN MECHANICS.[Top]CHAPTERI.THE SLOOP THAT WENT TO THE BOTTOM.“Starboard your helm! hard a-starboard!” shouted Dory Dornwood, as he put the helm of the Goldwing to port in order to avoid a collision with a steam-launch which lay dead ahead of the schooner.“Keep off! you will sink me!” cried a young man in a sloop-boat, which lay exactly in the course of the steam-launch.“That’s just what I mean to do, if you don’t come about!” yelled the man at the wheel of the steamer. “Why didn’t you stop when I called to you?”“Keep off, or you will be into me!” screamed the skipper of the sloop, whose tones and manner indicated that he was very much terrified at the situation.And he had reason enough to be alarmed. It was plain, from his management of his boat, that he was but an indifferent boatman; and probably he did not know what to do in the emergency. Dory had noticed the sloop coming up the lake with the steam-launch astern of her. The latter had run ahead of the sloop, and had come about, it now appeared, for the purpose of intercepting her.When the skipper of the sloop realized the intention of the helmsman of the steamer, he put his helm to port; but he was too late. The sharp bow of the launch struck the frail craft amidships, and cut through her as though she had been made of card-board.The sloop filled instantly; and, a moment later, the young man in her was struggling on the surface of the water. The boat was heavily ballasted, and she went down like a lump of lead. It was soon clear to Dory that the skipper could not swim, for he screamed as though the end of all things had come.Very likely it would have been the end of all things to him, if Dory had not come about with the Goldwing, and stood over to the place where the young man was vainly beating the water with his feet and hands. With no great difficulty the skipper of the Goldwing, who was an aquatic bird of the first water, pulled in the victim of the catastrophe, in spite of the apparent efforts of the sufferer to prevent him from doing so.It was a very warm day towards the end of August, and a bath in the cool waters of Lake Champlain was not the worst thing in the world to take. The victim of the collision was more scared than hurt; and he lay in the bottom of the yacht, puffing and blowing like a black bass just stolen from his native element. He did not seem to be able to speak, and Dory thought he was making a great fuss about a very small affair.The Goldwing had been headed across the lake when her skipper picked up the victim; and, when he was safely on board, she continued on her course. Dory had come out to cool off and take a sail, and it made no difference to him where he went. The Beech-hill Industrial School had notyet commenced operations, and he had nothing on earth to do the greater part of the time.His father had died a few weeks before; but he had found a snug harbor at Beech Hill, where he resided with his mother and sister in the elegant mansion of his uncle, Captain Royal Gildrock. The captain had acquired an immense fortune by his operations in various parts of the world; but as his wife was dead, and he had no children, it had bothered him a good deal to determine what to do with all his money.For many years there had been a feud between the head of the Dornwood family and the owner of Beech Hill. Mr. Dornwood was an intemperate man, and never more than half supported his family; though he had good wages as a pilot on the lake. He had married the captain’s only sister in spite of the opposition of all her friends, and especially of her brother.When the captain attempted to assist his sister in taking care of her two children, her husband ordered him out of his house; for a great many sharp words had passed between them. The wife was afraid of her inebriate husband, and the attempts of the wealthy brother to help the familyhad ended in the complete estrangement of the brother and sister.But as soon as Mrs. Dornwood was a widow, the captain hastened to her assistance. Though Dory had made an earnest effort to support the family, he had finally consented to reside with his mother at Beech Hill. The pilot’s wife and children had always lived in the humblest tenements, worn the meanest garments, and lived upon the plainest and cheapest food.Their lot at the new home was in tremendous contrast with their former condition. Captain Gildrock was a plain man himself, and inclined to regard the elegancies and luxuries of life with contempt. Though his house was large, it was plainly furnished. If his table was not garnished by the skill of a French cook, it was loaded with the best that could be procured. To the Dornwoods every thing about the house was luxurious.Captain Gildrock was a thinking man, and he had ideas as well as money. The two go well together, for ideas are often barren things when one has not the means to carry them out. The worthy shipmaster had studied society and human nature in many lands and climes. After he retiredfrom the sea and business generally, he had given his attention wholly to the affairs in his own country. After he had done so for a year or two, he was disposed to exclaim with the inspired writer, “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity!”Perhaps the standard of the captain was too high for this world, but he felt that the American people were slipping away from first principles. The nation had prospered by toil,—by inducing and compelling the earth to yield her increase. Life had been something more than a pleasure-excursion.“When I was young,” he used to say, “the boys worked on the farm, learned a trade, or went to sea. Now all the young men go into stores, become counter-jumpers and man-milliners. Men get rich now by making corners, betting on futures, and in speculation of all sorts. A big thief is a gentleman: a little one is a criminal, after he is caught. The boys and girls have been educated too much: they get above their station in life, and then half starve themselves in order to be genteel.”The captain did not believe that the young people were educated too much; only that theywere trained in useless accomplishments, as he regarded them. He did not think that the Genverres high-school, though a very successful institution in the opinion of the school-board and the citizens generally, was really a blessing to the town. He was confident that he had discovered the philosopher’s stone in education, though he found himself almost alone in his opinions.“That school only spoils good farmers and mechanics, good seamen and engineers. It gives them altogether too high notions of themselves. It turns its pupils out on the world fit only to be genteel. The education which the fathers of New England meant, when they planted the schoolhouse alongside the church, was simply a common-school education, without any high-school bosh on the tail-end of it. It’s all well enough for rich people: it is a luxury they can afford, and one they ought to pay for.”Very likely the captain was too ultra in his views, but the question he argued is one which must be settled before the lapse of many years.The shipmaster was a practical man, and he did not talk without acting. He believed in industrial education, not in the grammar-school,but in place of the high-school. He had talked his views in town-meeting, and printed them in the papers; but the people were not inclined to adopt them.A year before, he had taken a number of young men, and instructed them in seamanship and the construction and management of the marine engine. It was only a partial experiment, but he regarded it as an eminently successful one. Most of his pupils had obtained situations as engineers, and they were competent to fill them.Captain Gildrock hoped to convince the people that his views were correct, and he was ready to spend his money in demonstrating the truth of what he preached. His class of the preceding year had been rather too old when he took them in hand. He wanted boys from the grammar-school, twelve or fourteen years old, before they had “bowed down to the vanity of this world,” before they had learned to be genteel, before they oiled their hair, and spent half an hour a day in adjusting their neckties.After the death of his brother-in-law, the pilot, he had captured his nephew, after a hard struggle, and found he was the leading spirit of the GoldwingClub, which had taken its name from Dory’s boat. These boys were rather wild, but not bad. The captain succeeded in gathering them all into the Beech-hill Industrial School, as he decided to call the new institution. But the boys in Genverres were shy of the new school, or their parents were shy for them. Not a few of the latter regarded the retired shipmaster as a sort of harmless lunatic, liberal with his money, but, like all reformers, an unsafe leader to follow.Several boys from the high-school had made excellent records out in the world, and each fond parent expected his own son would join the galaxy of bright stars from its graduates. The captain could find only three boys in the whole town who would join the new school, while thirty went to the high-school. Possibly the requirement that the pupils should reside at Beech Hill had some influence with the parents.It looked as though the school was to begin with eight pupils,—hardly enough to man the Sylph, the captain’s elegant steam-yacht, the largest and finest craft of the kind on the lake. All the boys in the high-school would have liked to flirt about the lake in the magnificent steamer;but to do it as seamen, firemen, engineers, waiters, and cooks, was not wholly to the taste of the parents, if it suited that of the boys.Dory Dornwood was waiting for the school to begin. Great boxes of tools, machinery, and other material for the workshops, had arrived at Beech Hill; but the captain would not allow them to be opened until the boys came. Besides, he was very busy in looking up pupils for the new institution. He wanted twenty-four to begin with, and he was searching for them in some of the interior towns where he was acquainted.Dory was very impatient for the school to begin, though he was very happy in the midst of his new surroundings. He was a natural mechanic, and tools of any kind suited him better than books. He was fond of adventure, and wondered if he should ever have another time as lively as that on the lake before he was captured by his uncle.The young man he had picked up on the lake was about sixteen years old, and was a stranger to him. His wet garments, though poor enough, betrayed an effort at some style. After a while he recovered his breath, and seemed to be in condition to give an account of himself.
SNUG-HARBOR;
OR,
THE CHAMPLAIN MECHANICS.
[Top]
“Starboard your helm! hard a-starboard!” shouted Dory Dornwood, as he put the helm of the Goldwing to port in order to avoid a collision with a steam-launch which lay dead ahead of the schooner.
“Keep off! you will sink me!” cried a young man in a sloop-boat, which lay exactly in the course of the steam-launch.
“That’s just what I mean to do, if you don’t come about!” yelled the man at the wheel of the steamer. “Why didn’t you stop when I called to you?”
“Keep off, or you will be into me!” screamed the skipper of the sloop, whose tones and manner indicated that he was very much terrified at the situation.
And he had reason enough to be alarmed. It was plain, from his management of his boat, that he was but an indifferent boatman; and probably he did not know what to do in the emergency. Dory had noticed the sloop coming up the lake with the steam-launch astern of her. The latter had run ahead of the sloop, and had come about, it now appeared, for the purpose of intercepting her.
When the skipper of the sloop realized the intention of the helmsman of the steamer, he put his helm to port; but he was too late. The sharp bow of the launch struck the frail craft amidships, and cut through her as though she had been made of card-board.
The sloop filled instantly; and, a moment later, the young man in her was struggling on the surface of the water. The boat was heavily ballasted, and she went down like a lump of lead. It was soon clear to Dory that the skipper could not swim, for he screamed as though the end of all things had come.
Very likely it would have been the end of all things to him, if Dory had not come about with the Goldwing, and stood over to the place where the young man was vainly beating the water with his feet and hands. With no great difficulty the skipper of the Goldwing, who was an aquatic bird of the first water, pulled in the victim of the catastrophe, in spite of the apparent efforts of the sufferer to prevent him from doing so.
It was a very warm day towards the end of August, and a bath in the cool waters of Lake Champlain was not the worst thing in the world to take. The victim of the collision was more scared than hurt; and he lay in the bottom of the yacht, puffing and blowing like a black bass just stolen from his native element. He did not seem to be able to speak, and Dory thought he was making a great fuss about a very small affair.
The Goldwing had been headed across the lake when her skipper picked up the victim; and, when he was safely on board, she continued on her course. Dory had come out to cool off and take a sail, and it made no difference to him where he went. The Beech-hill Industrial School had notyet commenced operations, and he had nothing on earth to do the greater part of the time.
His father had died a few weeks before; but he had found a snug harbor at Beech Hill, where he resided with his mother and sister in the elegant mansion of his uncle, Captain Royal Gildrock. The captain had acquired an immense fortune by his operations in various parts of the world; but as his wife was dead, and he had no children, it had bothered him a good deal to determine what to do with all his money.
For many years there had been a feud between the head of the Dornwood family and the owner of Beech Hill. Mr. Dornwood was an intemperate man, and never more than half supported his family; though he had good wages as a pilot on the lake. He had married the captain’s only sister in spite of the opposition of all her friends, and especially of her brother.
When the captain attempted to assist his sister in taking care of her two children, her husband ordered him out of his house; for a great many sharp words had passed between them. The wife was afraid of her inebriate husband, and the attempts of the wealthy brother to help the familyhad ended in the complete estrangement of the brother and sister.
But as soon as Mrs. Dornwood was a widow, the captain hastened to her assistance. Though Dory had made an earnest effort to support the family, he had finally consented to reside with his mother at Beech Hill. The pilot’s wife and children had always lived in the humblest tenements, worn the meanest garments, and lived upon the plainest and cheapest food.
Their lot at the new home was in tremendous contrast with their former condition. Captain Gildrock was a plain man himself, and inclined to regard the elegancies and luxuries of life with contempt. Though his house was large, it was plainly furnished. If his table was not garnished by the skill of a French cook, it was loaded with the best that could be procured. To the Dornwoods every thing about the house was luxurious.
Captain Gildrock was a thinking man, and he had ideas as well as money. The two go well together, for ideas are often barren things when one has not the means to carry them out. The worthy shipmaster had studied society and human nature in many lands and climes. After he retiredfrom the sea and business generally, he had given his attention wholly to the affairs in his own country. After he had done so for a year or two, he was disposed to exclaim with the inspired writer, “Vanity of vanities! All is vanity!”
Perhaps the standard of the captain was too high for this world, but he felt that the American people were slipping away from first principles. The nation had prospered by toil,—by inducing and compelling the earth to yield her increase. Life had been something more than a pleasure-excursion.
“When I was young,” he used to say, “the boys worked on the farm, learned a trade, or went to sea. Now all the young men go into stores, become counter-jumpers and man-milliners. Men get rich now by making corners, betting on futures, and in speculation of all sorts. A big thief is a gentleman: a little one is a criminal, after he is caught. The boys and girls have been educated too much: they get above their station in life, and then half starve themselves in order to be genteel.”
The captain did not believe that the young people were educated too much; only that theywere trained in useless accomplishments, as he regarded them. He did not think that the Genverres high-school, though a very successful institution in the opinion of the school-board and the citizens generally, was really a blessing to the town. He was confident that he had discovered the philosopher’s stone in education, though he found himself almost alone in his opinions.
“That school only spoils good farmers and mechanics, good seamen and engineers. It gives them altogether too high notions of themselves. It turns its pupils out on the world fit only to be genteel. The education which the fathers of New England meant, when they planted the schoolhouse alongside the church, was simply a common-school education, without any high-school bosh on the tail-end of it. It’s all well enough for rich people: it is a luxury they can afford, and one they ought to pay for.”
Very likely the captain was too ultra in his views, but the question he argued is one which must be settled before the lapse of many years.
The shipmaster was a practical man, and he did not talk without acting. He believed in industrial education, not in the grammar-school,but in place of the high-school. He had talked his views in town-meeting, and printed them in the papers; but the people were not inclined to adopt them.
A year before, he had taken a number of young men, and instructed them in seamanship and the construction and management of the marine engine. It was only a partial experiment, but he regarded it as an eminently successful one. Most of his pupils had obtained situations as engineers, and they were competent to fill them.
Captain Gildrock hoped to convince the people that his views were correct, and he was ready to spend his money in demonstrating the truth of what he preached. His class of the preceding year had been rather too old when he took them in hand. He wanted boys from the grammar-school, twelve or fourteen years old, before they had “bowed down to the vanity of this world,” before they had learned to be genteel, before they oiled their hair, and spent half an hour a day in adjusting their neckties.
After the death of his brother-in-law, the pilot, he had captured his nephew, after a hard struggle, and found he was the leading spirit of the GoldwingClub, which had taken its name from Dory’s boat. These boys were rather wild, but not bad. The captain succeeded in gathering them all into the Beech-hill Industrial School, as he decided to call the new institution. But the boys in Genverres were shy of the new school, or their parents were shy for them. Not a few of the latter regarded the retired shipmaster as a sort of harmless lunatic, liberal with his money, but, like all reformers, an unsafe leader to follow.
Several boys from the high-school had made excellent records out in the world, and each fond parent expected his own son would join the galaxy of bright stars from its graduates. The captain could find only three boys in the whole town who would join the new school, while thirty went to the high-school. Possibly the requirement that the pupils should reside at Beech Hill had some influence with the parents.
It looked as though the school was to begin with eight pupils,—hardly enough to man the Sylph, the captain’s elegant steam-yacht, the largest and finest craft of the kind on the lake. All the boys in the high-school would have liked to flirt about the lake in the magnificent steamer;but to do it as seamen, firemen, engineers, waiters, and cooks, was not wholly to the taste of the parents, if it suited that of the boys.
Dory Dornwood was waiting for the school to begin. Great boxes of tools, machinery, and other material for the workshops, had arrived at Beech Hill; but the captain would not allow them to be opened until the boys came. Besides, he was very busy in looking up pupils for the new institution. He wanted twenty-four to begin with, and he was searching for them in some of the interior towns where he was acquainted.
Dory was very impatient for the school to begin, though he was very happy in the midst of his new surroundings. He was a natural mechanic, and tools of any kind suited him better than books. He was fond of adventure, and wondered if he should ever have another time as lively as that on the lake before he was captured by his uncle.
The young man he had picked up on the lake was about sixteen years old, and was a stranger to him. His wet garments, though poor enough, betrayed an effort at some style. After a while he recovered his breath, and seemed to be in condition to give an account of himself.