Mrs. Olsen had never seen Arthur, because after Charlie Oslen’s first wife died in Trondhjem, Norway, leaving the little baby Arthur, he had come to America, where he married again.
A while ago Olsen crossed to see about the settlement of an estate and to bring his son home. He and the boy were in the steerage of the Titanic.
Arthur is a sturdy, quiet-faced little chap with red hair, freckles and a ready smile. He speaks only Norwegian, but Mrs. Olsen translated for him when he told his story.
“I was with papa on the boat,” said the youngster timidly, “and then something was the matter. Papa said I should hurry up and go into the boat and be a good boy. We had a friend, Fritzjof Madsen, with us from our town, and he told me to go too.
“The ship was kind of shivering and everybody was running around. We kept getting quite close down to the water, and the water was quiet, like a lake.
THE LAST BOY SAW OF PAPA.
“Then I got into a boat and that was all I saw of papa. I saw a lot of people floating around drowning or trying to snatch at our boat. Then all of a sudden I saw Mr. Madsen swimming next to the boat and he was pulled in. He took good care of me.
“In our boat everybody was crying and sighing. I kept very quiet. One man got very crazy, then cried just like a little baby. Another man jumped right into the sea and he was gone.
“It was awful cold in the boat, but I was dressed warm, like we dress in Norway. I had to put on my clothes, when my papa told me to on the big ship. I couldn’t talk to anybody, because I don’t understand the language. Only Mr. Madsen talked to me and told me not to be afraid, and I wasn’t afraid. Mr. Madsen was shivering in his wet clothes, but he got all right after the Carpathia came.”
A bright-faced boy of eight walked up and down in front of Blake’s Star Hotel at No. 57 Clarkson street, New York, the day after the Carpathia arrived. He was Marshall Drew of Greenport, L. I., one of the survivors of the Titanic.