"I will not attempt to describe to you the horrors of that voyage—how we ran out of water owing to calms and head-winds, and how sickness ravaged among the wretched creatures packed like pigs in the hold of the ship. You may get an idea of that fearful time when I tell you that out of the eight hundred coolies that we had on board at the time of sailing, only one hundred and fifty lived to reach the port where the full measure of their deception and betrayal was realized. The poor ignorant fellows had understood that the contract signed by them was simply an agreement to work on a plantation at good wages, and that they were to be free agents to remain or to be returned to their country after a short time, when the expense of their passage had been worked out. Instead of that they discovered that such an exorbitant rate was charged for their transportation that it would require several years' labor to clear them of debt, and a like number more before they would be entitled to the return voyage. Protest availed them nothing, and they were led away as so many slaves to begin their weary servitude.
"I was heart-sick of the trade, and a little ashamed, too, of sailing under a foreign flag, so I left the Irving Castle at the first opportunity. I know that all hands were glad to see the 'Yankee' go, for I had held up the honor of my own country in a rather forcible way on several occasions when the discussion as to the wars of 1776 and 1812 had waxed warm beyond the limits of what might be called gentlemanly argument.
"And now, my boy, you know how it was that I came to serve on a 'coolie-slaver' under the British flag."
[THE IMP OF THE TELEPHONE.]
BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS.
I.—JIMMIEBOY MAKES HIS ACQUAINTANCE.
The telephone was ringing, of that there was no doubt, and yet no one went to see what was wanted, which was rather strange. The cook had a great way of rushing up from the kitchen to where the 'phone stood in the back hall whenever she heard its sounding bells, because a great many of her friends were in the habit of communicating with her over the wire, and she didn't like to lose the opportunity to hear all that was going on in the neighborhood. And then, too, Jimmieboy's papa was at work in the library not twenty feet away, and surely one would hardly suppose that he would let it ring as often as Jimmieboy had heard it this time—I think there were as many as six distinct rings—without going to ask the person at the other end what on earth he was making all that noise about. So it was altogether queer that after sounding six times the bell should fail to summon any one to see what was wanted. Finally it rang loud and strong for a seventh time, and, although he wasn't exactly sure about it, Jimmieboy thought he heard a whisper repeated over and over again, which said, "Hullo, Jimmieboy! Jimmieboy, Hullo! Come to the telephone a moment, for I want to speak to you."
Whether there really was any such whisper as that or not, Jimmieboy did not delay an instant in rushing out into the back hall and climbing upon a chair that stood there to answer whoever it was that was so anxious to speak to somebody.
"Hullo, you!" he said, as he got his little mouth over the receiver.