The day was beautiful. As the shores and islands were more clearly revealed, Philly’s delight knew no bounds.
“Oh, the land! the beautiful land!” she sighed. “I want to jump for joy.”
“Have you got enough of the sea for all time?”
“I do not think I am afraid of the sea—not as afraid as I was once,” she replied. “But think how good it will be to step ashore! I really don’t feel, Clint, as though I would care to sail again right away.”
And despite the sorry story we had to tell of the Seamew, there was a briskness in everybody’s movements that told of shore leave, and most of the men’s faces were agrin. Those forward were making up parties for certain pleasures and entertainments which had been denied them for so many months.
Old Stronson was going immediately to the Bethel, there to pay Captain Sowle the dollar he had owed the good superintendent for five years and more.
“I do that chob at vonce,” said the old man, “pefore somet’ings happen to me. Meppe Captain Sowle vill take my moneys for me and find me a goot berth aboard some gentleman’s yacht. Das berth I like, I t’ank.”
I knew he wanted to get away from the drink and I hoped with all my heart that the old man would be able to do so.
Tom Thornton had a married sister in Baltimore, over to whom the bulk of his paycheck was always paid by Barney, Blakesley & Knight. He would be put up by her, and cared for, and kept straight as long as possible; then the old man would go to sea again—in the Gullwing if possible.
As for Bob Promise and some other of the younger men, they were all for “the sporting life.”