APPEARANCES OFTEN MISUNDERSTOOD.
Sometimes our estimate of men and women
On short acquaintance is very much at fault.
A gentleman and his wife—Pierrepont by name—passengers on one of the great Atlantic steamers, not knowing any of the other passengers, kept very much to themselves; he usually reading aloud to his wife, and she occupied in some needle work; for this, they were commented upon, and not very favorably, and generally were called the "stupid couple." Little did these same passengers know the true character of that gentleman and lady. An incident that occurred on board soon proved the bravery and heroism of the one, and the gentleness and self-sacrifice of the other. The captain had with him his only son, a boy of some eight summers, a great favorite of all on board from fore to aft. The little fellow, climbing on the side of the ship, somehow fell overboard. The lady happening to be on the other side of the deck, saw the child climb up, and immediately missed him. She quickly laid her hand on her husband's shoulder, looking in his eyes, and cried out, "Oh, save the boy, he has fallen overboard." In one moment he was on his feet, kicked off his canvas shoes, threw his hat on the deck, and turning his face toward the bridge, where he knew some of the ship's officers were always stationed, he called out in a voice which rang like a trumpet call over the ship, "Man overboard." Then, with a quick run and leap, he cleared the rail, and the broken twisting water of the ship's track had closed over him. He was on the surface again in a moment, and taking a glance back at the ship to know his position, stretched out into a long steady stroke in the direction where he knew the child was.
Instantly the captain's hand was on the engine-room telegraph, and down into the depths of the ship went the signals. First to "stop," and the tremor all over the ship ceased. The bell rang again, and the index moved to "astern-slow;" then in a minute or two, to, "half;" then he called out to the second officer—"Man overboard! Stand by to lower away the gig," which was quickly obeyed, and four hands, a coxswain, and a man for the boat's bow were instantly off and rowed fiercely.
In a little while Mrs. Pierrepont—who was on the bridge with Captain Hood—said, "Do you see them; are they together?"
"Yes," replied the captain, "I believe they are." But his voice was now broken, and he took hold of Mrs. Pierrepont's hand. "I have watched my child from here with the glass, till at last he floated so low that I could scarcely see him, and just as he seemed sinking your husband dashed across the spot where he was, and I saw by a wave of his hand towards the ship that he caught him. He is now waiting for the boat."
It was getting dark when they returned. The child, who was shivering, was immediately carried away to have a warm bath, and a little later was in the saloon with dry clothes on, as merry as if nothing had happened.
When Pierrepont stepped on the deck, a rush was made at him, and both hands were shaken till he thought his arms would be pulled off.
The captain said all he had to say in a very few words, and with a hand-grasp which said more than words.