A Precocious Youth.

Auckland Star, Volume VI, Issue 1823, 18 December 1875, Page 8 (Supplement)

A Precocious Youth.

The Dangers of Steamboat Teavel

Explained.

[From the Hearth and Home.] His hair wasn't white—not exactly the colour of the pastry flour, but a cursory glance would have marked it down in a stranger's mental memorandum book as white. He had a hatchet-like face. It was not a face exactly like a hatchet, but it was a long face, and a thin one, and was wider at the eyes than at the chin. There were freckles on his nose, a few distributed over his cheeks, and there was an honest, truthful look in his largo blue eyes. A mental inventory of the boy would have read:

' Some wandering, homeless lad, determined that the w rorld owes him a living ; but a bad boy, as boys run, but yet prepared to make the most of favourablo circumstances.'

Ho boarded the boat just as she was swinging clear, and he nodded familiarly to tho captain, smiled tenderly at the clerk, and carried the air of one who had paid his fare and had plenty of money left, though, truthfully speaking, ho hadn't seen a shinplaster in his own fingers for days and days

v . Sauntering into tho cabin ho selected a victim. It is not nocesasry that whitehaired boys should have victims, but this one walked across the cabin and seated himself beside an aged female. She was a female with two satchels and a parcel. She had spectacles on; her hair was bordering on the gray; she had just regaled her nose with a liberal pinch of black snuff—soft, balmy snuff, scented with cinnamon oil to enhance its natural flavour.

' JSTever on a boat before, I sco ?' he remarked, as ho gave her a searching, yet innocent look. 'Lots o'times,' sho replied, roturning his look without flinching, as if she believed him a sharper and meant to bluff him at the very start. 'I thought not; else you wouldn't be seated here, right over the bilers, and them firemen chucking in lard and taller and kerosene oil to get up steam enough to catch the boat ?' he replied.

She gave a little start, looked hurriedly around, and there was a little smile in the corner of hi 3 left eye as he noticed how tho arrow had struck the target. ' Then it ain't safe here ?' she asked.

' It may be, but —but—' His hesitation decided her. Rising up and seizing her satchels and parcel sho vacated tho cabin for tho promenade deck, where she secured a seat on a hard stool, and raised her blue parasol to keep off the sun. She was thankful for the boy's warning, and she blamed herself for not opening the parcel and offering him a doughnut, a boiled egg, and a taste from the tumbler of jelly. A quarter of an hour had passed and she was feeling very comfortable, when the boy with white hair put in an appearance. His face did not look solemn ; it did not betray mirth ; but there was deep concern in his tone as he halted and exclaimed ;

' What, you here !' ' Isn't this a safe place ?' she anxiously asked.

' Why, madam, you are in the centre of the boat almost, and in case of a burst the boat always breaks in two in tho centre !' He passed on, and she lifted up two satchels and the parcel and walked aft, getting as near the stern of the boat as she could. Her heart swelled a little as she thought of the boy's disinterested kindness toward a stranger—a lone woman, who might have never returned from her trip but for the unexpected interest of a forlorn orphan boy. She was wondering whether the boy wouldn't like to be adopted when he reappeared, drew up a stool and calmly said: ' I have been through three or four explosions, and I tell you they are awful. Last boat I was on exploded both boilers at once, and yet only one man was killed. He was sitting at the stern of the boat, just about where you are now !' ' Good stars ! but I thought I was safe here !' she exclaimed, reaching down for the satchels.

«If the end of one of the boilers should blow out it would strike you exactly on the chest!' he coolly continued, ' and there wouldn't be a piece of your body that I could not put into this tin-tobacco-box !'

Ho suddenly became interested in a passing steamer, slipped away, and she lifted her bundles and walked to the other end of the boat. She had come aboard with full confidence that the trip would be pleasantly made, and slie wondered how the public—the free American people—could calmly permit a boat to leave laden with human beings vsho might be torn to fragments any moment *>y an explosion. She was wishing that she had taken the cars, when the boy with white hair sat down beside her and softly began : ' You know that every biler has two ends. If you were aft and that end blew out you would be torn to strips. If you a^e here and this end blows out, no one will ever be able to recover the relic of you, not even your spectacles ;' , ' Then I ain't safe yet P' she gasped. 'In the midst of life wo are in death !' he solemnly replied. ' You may be safe, but I will not assume the fearful responsibility of saying so !' She gathered up the satchels and the parcel, entered the cabin, looked all ground, and finally sat down ia a chair

behind the door. The boy with white hair found her again after awhile. She had almost fallen asleep, but his exclamation speedily aroused her. ' What! Behind the door —right over the larboard steam-chest !'

* Ain't this safe, either ?' she gasped.

'Madam, ten steam-chests explode to every one biler, and statistics prove it, Tho pieces tear, and grind, and splinter, and kill in an awful manner. You can sit there if you wish, but—but —' And he went down stairs, and, I saw her come out on the promenado-deck and look at tho smoko-statjks to see if there wasn't a safe spot up there somewhere.