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From: | Richard Bird |
Subject: | [Info-gne] innocent |
Date: | Wed, 20 Sep 2006 17:10:50 +0100 |
Here they were intheir hundreds; there they had
been in their thousands. Withinconceivable cheek, Watson planted himself in a chair
and invited Freketo a cup of tea. The ship was not built to face the Western Ocean,
and the Skipper lackedWestern Ocean experience.
It was what happened to the gun
thistime.
If you dont have creeps running upinto your back
hair, then youve no ear for music. We trudged along, I simply following the porter,
conscious oflittle but a terrific temperature.
I arrived at Tilbury Dock feeling like the
completeWest African dishcloth.
I soon fell into things and became frightfully keen
at my job.
PerhapsI was more at home on this job than they had
realised. In a very nasal voice he informed me he was the Mate.
All I wanted was to get my head down, and forgetI
was alive.
But it was the WhiteStar Line, the summit, at that
time, of my ambitions.
Concerns were also raised in the Legislative
AssemblyMr.
It is no climate for a white woman, sothere the
matter ended. Theres a barrel on a stump, where youturn off for somewhere else.
NEWSPAPER ACCOUNTSWHAT HAPPENED AT FORT DENISONA Strange StoryWho fired the
gun?
Mangrove swamps on either hand most ofthe way, no
room to turn and little room to pass. As yet we had not stopped even to put on our
shoes.
There was nothing for itbut to release what we
could, and simply let them wash overboard.
After a few long drawn minutes she eventually came
to, head onto wind and righted.
Right, said I, myone anxiety being to get to my
cabin, and try to forget this damnablefever. Ifthere was any possible mischief to be
got into, trust Watson to be init. I had had good times and Ihad enjoyed
them.
For thispurpose we commandeered a scow from Cavills
Baths that lie off theDomain. TheCaptain had a brain storm in the middle of this
dinner that very nearlysent up the balloon. The man who loaded and firedthe gun must
have climbed up the lightning-conductor.
Anything their childlike minds cantgrasp, its Oh,
Massa, he be Ju-ju too much. For a minute or twoit looked bad, and the skipper did
look a bit glum.
One of the chaps sang out, Come on, you ass, buck
up. One afternoon it blew up and there was every indication that we were infor a
dirty night.
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