Bridgewater State University - Alpha Yearbook (Bridgewater, MA)

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28 NORMAL OFFERING my ship. But when I saw the look in his eyes, as he gazed at the tall, shining masts, I couldn't do it. It was a hungry look-a heart-break- ing look,-the cry of a man who ought to be on the seas, breasting the waves, facing the wind, loving a ship of his own, but who was bound to the land, the heavy land, by a weak body. Lad, lad, my heart bled for that chap I Again he was silent, sucking at his pipe. I shall never forget that morning-the deep blue of the sky melting into the rich indigo of the sea on the horizon-the white- capped swells swaying the tapering spars of the Mary Chilton-the taste of the salt spray on my lips-and there ,beside me, his eye-s fixed dreamily on the edge of the world, an old sea captain telling me simply, in a matter-of-fact way, how he met, aboard this very ship, the idol of two worlds! We had a big Kanaka with us then. He used to swing along the booms, hand over hand, high up above the deck. And when Stev- enson saw that, he choked and said, 'I would rather do that than write all the books in the world.' He sat where you're sitting, boy, and asked me questions and questions and questions. And I told him tales of the Mary Chilton. I remember I said something about the good round feel of a kicking wheel, and he didn't know what it was. So we took the old girl out for a spin,-a spanking breeze there was, and a good sea, with a lift and carry and drop,-and never did I see a man more lifted up than he was on that morning, when he got the spokes in his hands, and drove the prow straight through the waves. He was soaked with the spray. But his eyes shone like stars, and he laughed to himself. When we got back, he gave me this. The cap- tain pulled out a worn copy of Treasure Island and thumbed its pages tenderly. 6'He loved the sea and ships, he murmured, more to himself than to me. Aye, he loved ships 2 We sat awhile in silence. Then I asked, Did you ever see him again ? a The captain shook his head. I went back later. I wanted him to feel the Mary in a gale. He would have understood. But they told me he was dead I He sat for a long time, his chin on his hands, his pipe gone out, unnoticed. He would have understood, he sighed once, but he was dead? The gulls wheeled about the ship, and finally the captain arose. Well, he said, we've got to start loading that pig-iron for Bangor. S. Louise Dickinson

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NORMAL OFFERING 27 Cflhe Man mlm Jllnheratunh QA12 Imaginary Incidentj . ..... 66 9' T'S a very nice boat, I said, thoughtfully to Nate Wetherby, il captain and owner of the Mary Chilton, a very nice boat, indeed! Captain Wetherby placed his feet apart, and swayedhis thick- set body easily with the lift and drop of the long, rolling swell coming in off Cape Cod Bay. His clear blue eyfes glinted from his brown, clean-shaven face. 'A niceboatj he mimicried. 'She's not a boat! Sheis a ship, -a great ship, a grand ship! All land-lubbers are the same! I 'A very nice boat,' indeed! What do you know of the feel of a ship, the pull and swing, the life What do you know of the tall white sails in the moonlight? 'A very nice boat !' He spoke gruffly, but toler- antly. Yes, land-lubbers are all the same! All except one, he amended, after a momentis thought. I met one once who knew ships and could feel them. He pulled his black pipe from his pocket, lit it, settled comfortably on a coil of rope, and puffed a moment in silence. Then he removed the pipe, and, cuddling it lovingly in his hand, continued: It was down in the South Seas years ago, when the Mary Chilton was trading there+copra, hemp, and coralf'-he caught my inquir- ing look. Oh, the Mary wasn't always a New England coaster! Time was, lad, before the steel ships came in fships with no soulsb when the old girl was known to every port in the world. 'Here comes the Mary Chilton,' the word was then, 'sailing fair and clear! Ah, boy, those were good days. Another long silence.. But I was telling you of this fellow. We were touching at Samoa, when he came aboard,-a tall chap, and most fearful thin. i Robert Louis Stevenson his name was. I remember that when he climbed the rail I was going to throw him overboard. I was sick of having dudes turning up their noses at

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NORMAL oFFER1NG 29 1511111 Bark mlln 66 OMING down for football practice, Jack? Come on! The fel- lows are all going. Bill Temple, the speaker, a medium- sized, light-haired, ruddy-faced young man, while donning his football regalia, threw a glance of inquiry toward his room-mate, Jack Gardner, who was reclining in a comfortable morris chair. The young man addressed turned rather troubled eyes toward his busy friend, but did not stir. Q Having finished his dressing, Bill turned to go, but, after casting one backward glance at his friend, he returned, and placing his hand on J ack's shoulders, he gave the shoulder a gentle shake and said, in a kindly tone, 6'What's the matter, Jack? Why are you drifting along like this? You could easily make the 'Varsity team and be the strong- est man in it. If only you would, you'd feel the joy of working for and with others, and it would arouse in you the ambition you need if you are to go out in the world and overcome life's obstacles. I wish your were to take Whitman's place, for he's our weak point,-and if we lose- Here his face grew very grave indeed. Then, with a hearty Think it over, old man, he was off. ' Jack sat still just an instant, then rising, he proceeded to don his suit in a rather lively manner. The bond of friendship which had existed between these two boys since High school days was really beautiful to see. Jack Gard- ner, though well-to-do, was very proud to room with bustling, bril- liant, though poor, Bill Temple, the hero of all the undergraduates. Bill's father had sacrificed much to put his boy through college, and it was Bill's hope that he might some day richly repay the father whom he fairly adored. But now his opportunity had come in the form of an oier of a partnership in a large business house of an eccentric old uncle, who had never helped his nephew in any way. For years this queer old man had taken an interest in the games of this college, and for the past two years had seen with chagrin the