The Bow Anchor.
Captain John Dulliwir, who sailed a whaling vessel for a great many seasons, accumulated a fund of experiences which stood him m good use for anecdotes through all the years after his retirement; but perhaps the best of Japtain Dullivar's stories, the one of which the recital always caused the most amusement, was one relating to an incident that happened after he left off whaling. The captain and his wife were sitting at a friend's table at supper one evening. The captain helped himself pretty liberally from a place of cheese. " There, there," said Mrs Dullivar, "you're cjoin' an' eatin' a lot more o' that cheese f You'd better stop right where you be." "Oh,wal, Maria," said the captain, with a grin, "I guess it'll be all right this time." " Wai, eat it, John, eat it! It's me that has to suffer, onyway." " How is that, MrsDullivar 1" her hostess asked. Whereupon the captain, being the story-teller of the family, took up the narrative of his wife. "Ye see," said he, still grinning, "my wife, she's afraid I'll throw out the bow anchor agin. It wa'nfc more'n a month or six weeks ago that we were down to Lizy Jane's visitin', an' they had jist about the same kind o' cheese on the table 'at you've got here. I eat a little on't. Oh, you needn't look, Maria ! Maybe I eat a good deal on't. Wai, that night, after we had gone to bed, I dreamed I was to sea m the Priscilla, same's I used to be. Seem's if I was coram' up past Hatteras. Twas my watch, an' all to once there came on one o' the wust squalls I ever saw m them parts. The wind blew like the nation, an' the vessel was nigh on her beam ends. There want but one thing to do. Seem's if the mate was the only man within reach, an' I sings out to him, 'Mr Coffin,' says I, ' heave that bow anchor overboard !' So the mate he ketches hold 'o the anchor, an' he pulls an' tugs, an' he can't start it. An' all the the time the storm grows. ' Mister Coffin,' says I, gittin' desperate, ' over with that anchor now,, an' mighty quick !' But he can't budge 'er. The wind howls and the ship careens. Then I goes for'ard, an' says I, 'Stan' aside, yer lubber, an' let me heave that bow anchor over myself, or we'll go to the bottom !' An' with that I put both arms round the big anchor, an' I gave it a terrible tug an' lift, and over the ship's side she went. An' as I'm a livin' man, if that bow anchor didn't set up a scream that riz over *he whole roar of the tempest, an' it yelled— 'John Dullivar, John Dullivar, oh ! what be you a-doin' !' An' I woke up, an' if there want Maria on th© floor, screamin' an' takin' on. I'd took her fer the anchor, an' heaved her overboard, sure enough." Mrs Dullivar's was the only face m the room that remained without a smile throughout this recital. " Yes," said she " you thro wed me out on the floor as if I want n« more'n such an old junk. An' there you go, eatin' that cheese aa if nothin' had happened.
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The Bow Anchor., Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 2519, 16 September 1890
The Bow Anchor. Ashburton Guardian, Volume VII, Issue 2519, 16 September 1890
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