IV.
Uncle Ben was absent but a few moments; yet it seemed like a long while to the children, who were very anxious to hear the rest of the story about the handsome sailor boy.
“Let me see—where did I leave off?” said Uncle Ben, as he again took his seat.
“You were just going away in the boat after the whale,” replied Flora.
“So I was. Well, we rowed close up to the whale, and sent one iron into him. Before we could strike him again, he turned upon us, and with one blow smashed our frail boat all to pieces.”
“Dear me!” exclaimed little Flora, with a shudder.
“Another boat from the shippicked us up. George was a good swimmer, but I saw that he was sinking this time, and I bore him up in my arms, till he was taken into the boat. I found that he was badly hurt, for his face was deadly pale, and he was so faint he could hardly speak. We had lost the whale; so we went back to the ship.
“I carried George in my arms to the deck, and thenbore him to his bunk in the forecastle.
“That was a room to sleep in—wasn’t it?” asked Nellie.
“Yes, child, but it wasn’t any such place as your chamber. It was cold, dark, and damp. I laid the poor boy in his bunk, and tried to find out where he was hurt; but he was so weak he could tell me nothing.
“If he had been my own son, I could not have felt any worse. I could not help thinking of his poor mother, as I sat by the side of his bunk, watching over him. What would she have said if she could see her darling child, sick in that dirty, dark place? How she would have wept!
“I did not think poor George was very badly hurt; I did not want to think so, and I supposethis is the reason why I did not. The captain went down to see him, and then got some medicine for him.
“In the evening he seemed to be a little better, and I hoped he would be well in a day or two. He talked a little with me, and told me where his pains were. He spoke of his mother and his home, and seemed to feel very sad to be so far away from them.
“I sat by his side till eight bells—that is, till twelve o’clock. He slept much of the time, and as I bent over him and listened to his quiet breathing, I thought he was better, and that he would be able to go on deck the next day.
“You don’t know much about the life of a whaler, I suppose; so you can’t tell how tired and worn out he gets sometimes. The boats are oftenout all night, and the men have to row, when they are so sleepy and tired that they can hardly hold their heads up.
“Well, I had been out in the boat all the night before, and I was just as tired as a man could be. I could hardly keep my eyes open, as I sat at the side of the poor sick boy; but I did not once lose myself while I was on this duty.
“At twelve o’clock, findingthat George slept easily, I called one of my shipmates to take my place. He was very willing to do so; but before I left him, I charged him, over and over again, to keep awake and mind the boy. He promised me he would, and I went to my bunk.
“I was so tired that I slept like a rock till eight bells, which was four o’clock in the morning. My first thought wasof poor George, and jumping out of my berth, I hastened to his side. My shipmate whom I had left to watch him was fast asleep.
“I felt so very angry with him, that only my desire to learn how the sick boy was, prevented me from kicking him out of the forecastle. I looked into the bunk, and all was still as when I had left, and I thought he was asleep.
“All was still and calm in the berth—so still and calm that I trembled with fear. I listened to hear his breathing, but no sound reached my ear. I then placed my hand upon his brow. It was as cold as marble.
“Poor George was dead!
“O children, I can’t tell you how I felt then. It seemed just as though our angel had been taken out of the ship.I wept as I should have wept if he had been my son or my brother.
“From that sleep in which I had left him he had never awakened, for he lay just as he was at midnight. There was not a dry eye in the ship when it was told that poor George, whom we all loved, was dead.
“We dressed him in his clean clothes, and bore hisbody upon deck, where we covered it with the American flag. At noon the sad cry of ‘All hands to bury the dead’ sounded gloomily through the ship.
“The body of poor George, sewed up in a piece of sailcloth, was placed on a plank, still covered with the American flag. It was raised upon the rail, ready to be cast into the sea.
“The captain, with his eyes brim full of tears, and hardly able to speak from grief, read prayers; and all was ready to launch the body into the deep. The canvas had been left open at the head, and the wind blew the fair brown locks upon the cold brow of poor George, just as when he had stood by my side on the cross-trees.
“One by one the sailors kissed his marble cheeks,—kissedhim for his mother,—and wiped the tears from their brown faces. The canvas was sewed up, the word was given, and the body slid off the plank into the great ocean, there to sleep till the graves give up their dead.
“The ship filled away upon her course, and it was many and many a day before we ceased to think of the poor sailor boy in his ocean grave.
“When I got home, I went to New York to see poor George’s mother. I found her without trouble, and told her the story of her lost child. A few days after she was taken to an insane asylum, where she died. Poor George! Poor mother!”
Every one of the children was crying when Uncle Ben finished his story, and even when they went home, theireyes were red and swollen with weeping.
“What is the matter, Flora?” asked Mrs. Lee, when her two children entered the house.
“Nothing, mother.”
“Why, both of you have been crying! What has happened?”
“Nothing, mother; only Uncle Ben has been telling us a very sad story about a handsomesailor boy, who was killed at sea by a whale,” replied Frank.
“Who told you the story—Uncle Ben?” asked Mrs. Lee, very much surprised.
“Yes, mother,” replied Flora. “He is a real nice man, and not a bit cross when you don’t bother him.”
The children told their father and mother all about the events of the afternoon, andhow kind Uncle Ben had been to them. Mr. Lee was very much pleased, as well as surprised, for he looked upon Uncle Ben just as nearly all the people of Riverdale did—as a hard and cross man.
But after what the children had told him, he felt very kindly towards the old man, and wanted to do something for him, so that he need not have to work so hard. Hewent to see Uncle Ben the next day, and told him how pleased the children had been with him.
A few months after this event Mr. Lee, with the help of his friends, got the place of Postmaster of Riverdale for Uncle Ben, and the old man sold his farm and moved into the village. This place gave him money enough to live without hard work. He hadgot it by being kind to the children, and after this he tried very hard to be kind to every body.
So you see how much good Flora did by going to Uncle Ben in the right way. She had conquered his cold heart, and the old man, feeling how much he owed to the children, became a great favorite among them.
Many a time, after UncleBen had sent off the mail, the children gathered together in the Post Office, to hear an interesting story of the sea; and even the old folks were glad to listen to them.
Fish