The boy stood on the burning deck,
Whence all but him had fled.
This boy was the Commodore's son; he was but ten years of age, yet behaved with amazing intrepidity whilst the battle raged. When the ship took fire his father bade him remain on deck, and he stuck to his post until the huge ship blew up. Memories of this sort should stir the blood of the young. They cannot be too often recited. They quicken the higher impulse, shape fancies into ardent resolution, and all will believe that they must be infinitely more valuable, even in an educational sense, than narratives of impossible adventure and of fictitious achievements which cannot serve as encouragements, because even the smallest boy will perceive that they are impracticable.
I have spoken of Lord Nelson, and of this great sailor many stories of his spirit when a boy are told. Some of these tales must be viewed with suspicion; one or two, perhaps, are worth recalling. The lad joined an expedition to the frozen sea under the command of Captain Phipps, afterwards Lord Musgrave. One night, when it was as bright as daylight, the ship lying hard and fast amid the ice, young Nelson took his gun and left the ship to shoot a bear which he had seen a long way off. Something went wrong with the lock of his musket, whereupon he grasped the weapon by the barrel, and gave chase to the beast, which went off on a trot. Having killed the bear, the boy returned to his ship, the Captain of which reprimanded him for going upon the ice without leave, and with a stern countenance asked what motive could have induced him to attack with a useless gun so formidable a beast as a polar-bear. The young hero's reply was to the point. "I wished, sir," he said, "to get the skin for my father."
All boys who are acquainted with the life of Lord Nelson—and every boy, be he American or English, who speaks the language in which this article is written, ought to read it and gather the meaning of that wonderful career—must have heard of Captain Trowbridge, one of the Admiral's favorite officers. He was the son of a baker, and rose by his splendid gallantry to be an Admiral and a baronet. One story of his fearlessness when a lad recalls Hopson's feat. He was midshipman aboard the Seahorse when she chased and captured the French ship Sartine. Much of the glory of that day was owing to young Trowbridge, who, watching his chance and shouting for followers, boarded the enemy from the forecastle, and with his own hands hauled down the French colors. Perhaps not every commander of a victorious ship would have proved so frankly honorable as was Captain Farmer of the Seahorse, for afterwards, whilst dining with the commander-in-chief, Sir Edward Hughes, he checked the congratulations he was being overwhelmed with by saying that the victory was entirely owing to the heroism of a boy, a midshipman named Trowbridge. Sir Edward was so struck and delighted that he became the boy's fast friend, and was of signal help to him in the earlier stages of his splendid career. These and the like are stories which are true, and they should be made known to boys. My instances are British; but scores of inspiriting examples may be culled from the American records.
[OWNEY, THE MAIL-DOG.]
OWNEY.
Had that extremely humorous cur Crab, the property of one Launce, in Shakespeare's Two Gentlemen of Verona, met with an accident terminating his career, his master could have found a successor in Owney, the railway mail-dog, a product of our own time, who would be fully qualified to fill the shoes, or rather the place of the other.
Owney is a terrier, now ten years old, and weighs about thirty-five pounds. By his own exertions he has achieved a fame of which to be proud, and as a traveller a distinction that few men can boast of. When a pup he decided upon his vocation, and in accordance with his views he entered the basement of the post-office at Albany and attached himself to the regular mail service. His devotion to the self-appointed duty of guarding mail-sacks interested the clerks, and as a reward he was permitted to accompany them on trips in the mail-cars.