I can't say any more, Captain Schenke--but we want you to take a
small present from us--the crew of the _Hilda's_ gig." He held out the
parcel.
Only half understanding the lad's broken words, Schenke took the parcel
and opened it. "_Ach Gott_ _Lieber Gott_," he said, and turned to show
the gift to old Burke. Tears stood in the big "squarehead's" eyes;
stood, and rolled unchecked down his fat cheeks. Tears of pleasure!
Tears of pity! Stretched between his hands was a weather-beaten flag,
its white emblem stained and begrimed by sea-water!
A tattered square of blue silk--the flag of the Merchants' Cup!
A STORM AND A RESCUE
From "The Wreck of the Grosvenor" BY W. CLARK RUSSELL
All that night it blew terribly hard, and raised as wild and raging a
sea as ever I remember hearing or seeing described. During my
watch--that is, from midnight until four o'clock--the wind veered a
couple of points, but had gone back again only to blow harder; just as
though it had stepped out of its way a trifle to catch extra breath.
I was quite worn out by the time my turn came to go below; and though
the vessel was groaning like a live creature in its death agonies, and
the seas thumping against her with such shocks as kept me thinking that
she was striking hard ground, I fell asleep as soon as my head touched
the pillow, and never moved until routed out by Duckling four hours
afterward.
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