“They are houses built by the Government and placed at regular distances along the beach. The gun, and rope, and life-boat, and life-car, and all other things that are needed in case of shipwreck, are kept in them. Then there is a stove and coal ready to make a fire, for if a poor wretch got ashore in mid-winter he would soon freeze if he couldn’t get to a fire. And if the man who has charge of the station lives two miles off across a bay that he can’t cross in a bad storm, what can the poor half-drowned fellows do, if they are too much benumbed to break open the door? I’d stave it in for them pretty quick if I was there, law or no law.”
“It is a shame that a matter like that should not be free from politics.”
“So it was once,” Bill went on fluently; for on this subject he felt that his family had a right to be eloquent; “at one time some department had it in charge that never would either appoint or remove a man on political account; but that is all changed now, and the men are expected to go out with every administration, and shipwrecked passengers die while political favorites draw the two hundred dollars a year pay for the station-master.”
“Now, Bill, stop your talk about the public wrongs, and tell us something more interesting. Have you ever heard one of Bill’s ghost stories?” This inquiry was addressed to the public.
Bill’s face lengthened; he sat silently nursing his leg and smoking his brierwood pipe, while a shadow seemed to settle on his countenance. “Come, Bill,” we responded, “let’s have the story.”
Bill answered not, and the shadow deepened, and the smoke was puffed in heavier masses from his lips.
“Bill is afraid; he don’t like ghosts, and don’t dare to talk of them.”
“I am not easily skeered,” he answered at last; “but if you had seen what I have on this shore, you would not talk so easy about it ’Lige, do you remember the time we saw that ship? There had been a heavy storm, and when we got up next day early, there lay a vessel on the beach; she must have been most everlastingly a harpin’ it.”
“What is that?” was asked wonderingly, on the utterance of this peculiar expression.
“Why, she had come clear in over the bar, and must have been going some to do that; for there she lay, bow on, with her bowsprit sticking way up ashore, just below the station yonder. Her masts were standing, and we clapped on our clothes and started for the beach. The wind was blowin’ hard, and the sand and drizzle driving in our faces as we walked over, and we kept our heads down most of the time. When we got to the sand-hills we looked up, and the ship was gone. I thought that likely enough, for she must have broken up and gone to pieces soon in that surf, so we hurried along as fast as we could; and sure enough, when we rounded the point, the little cove in which she lay was full of truck. ’Lige was there, and he saw it as plain as I did. The water was full of drift-boxes, barrels, planks, and all sorts of things, pitching and rolling about; and some of them had been carried up onto the sand and were strewed about in all directions.