THE SAILOR THAT LOVED A LASS.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XVIII, Issue 1699, 26 June 1885, Page 1 (Supplement)

THE SAILOR THAT LOVED A LASS.

“ Messmates all, there is a song, and I have heerd it sung, and so belike have you, about a lass as loved a sailor. Now I’ve got a yarn to nil you here at the Sailor's Snug Harbor, whi ra we’re all becalmed, about a sailor as lou ! a lass, and loved her true, and how the love and jeol.iisy brought him into trouble as he needn't have been brought into. And the story is about myself when I was young P.andolph Levit, afore the mast, and as able a seaman as any living. “ It’s the story of this ring. I had Nettie’s name put on it and mine. ‘From Ean,’it read, “to Nettie.’ She was Henrietta Amelia Jane Wells in her Bible.

" ' Now,' says 1, 1 Nettie, I loves you deep and I loves you true; and if you loves me as I loves you, no kui/e can cut our hearts in two. Prendre to be faithful to me while I’m on this voyage, and we’ll be spliced when I come back, it so be you are willing.’ “ And she was willing. She let me put the ring on her finger, and she said:

“ ‘ I’ll never take it oil until you come back; and then you ahuu put the other on top of it.’ “ So we kissed, and I felt as if I was the happiest fellew alive; and I sailed away without a cloud in si "it in the sky or in my mind’s eye, with Nettie waving her pockethandkerchief to me and piping he; eye for love of me.

" It was a long voyage, and a gloomy one, and no chance for letters; and we had a lowspirited chap along, who believed that nothing ever went right in love matters; and when I told him about Nettie, remarked; “ ‘ Shakespeare, whose ploys I've seed often and often, remarks this hare : “ The ccur: e of true love never does run smooth; ” and Shakespeare, mind you, knowed what ne was sayin’ when ho said that.’ “ I don’t know as I believed him. but remarks of them kind, on a stormy d».y, with grog low, and the captain out of sorts, d»r» have an influence.

“ Moreover, as I sat a thinkin', or walked a thinkin’, or swung a thinkin’ in my hammock, I'd remember that I wasn’t much of a chap to look at, and Nettie was as pretty as a picture; that I was nigh thirty, and she seventeen; that I hadn’t any money, and hadn’t got ahead as some had; and I’d think of the chap at the store, with hands as whits as milk, and a big moustache on his upper lip, and clothes like a lirst-cabin passenger; and my fingers were tarry, and my nails black, and I got home at last in a state of mind just ready to expect the worst. " I went up to Nettie’s house in a hurry. The parrot I had brought home had died, and the pine apples had spiled, and the captain, as weighed three hundred, had sot down on a handkerchief full of glass things I’d laid down unforeseen on to a bench; and I felt mean to be empty-handed, and coming to Nettie's house I see a chap a coming cut smiling, and saying : “ ‘ Good-night, Miss Henrietta; hope to meet you at church a Sunday.' “ And I bolted past him, treading on his toes, and Nettie gives a scream, and says : • Why, it’s Ran; ’ and I caught her in my arms and kissed her. “ ‘ Glad to see me, lass ? ’ says I.

“ 4 Glad as glad oan be,’ says she. 44 And I was just as happy. Old folks were off; gone to a grandchild’s christening, miles away; wouldn’t be back until next day; and we had a pleasant evening, until she said: 44 4 Well, Ran, I’ve not offered you a bite. I’ll get you a glass of cider and some gingerbread,’ and went away to the kitchen and came back with a tray in her hand. As she set it down the lamplight showed her pretty hands plain as day, and I saw she had no ring upon her finger.

44 4 Nettie,’ said I, and my voice sounded hateful to myself— 4 Nettie, where is your ring ?’ 44 4 Don’t talk about the ring to-night, Ran,’ said she, softly. 44 4 Why ?' said I, trembling, and my head hot.

44 4 Because it makes me feel bad,’ says she. 44 4 Bad or good, tell mo why you don’t wear your ring ?’ says I. 44 The ring you swore never to take off your finger while I was gone.” 44 4 Since you must have it, Ran,’ said she, 4 because I lost it.”

44 4 Lost it 1 ’ said I. 4 Then you did take it off?’

44 4 No,’ said she. 4 1 was out boating, and paddled my hand in the water, when I locked the ring was gone.’ 44 4 The ring was tight for you,’ said I. 44 4 1 suppose the water chilled my hand,’ said she, 4 and made the finger smaller.’

“Now if it had not been for that lowspirited chap, Larkin, with his poetry and his Shakespeare, I’d believed my lass, but all the doubts I’d caught as you catch the small-pox on the voyage, rose up, and made mo furious. “ ‘ Who were you boating with ?’ says I.

“ 1 Several people,’ said she. ‘lt was a party.’ “ 1 Who sat along with you ?’ sold I. “ 1 Mr. Marsh,’ said she. “ ‘ That fellow from the store,’ said I. ‘“The gentleman who keeps the store,’ “ 1 1 passed him at the door,” said I. “ 1 Very likely,’ said she. ‘He called.’

“‘ I believe you lie,’ said I; ‘ I believe you gave him the ring. He’s got it now;’ and I swore.

“ I’d been on a long, rough voyage. I’d talked to sailors only. I was crazy with jealousy. Oh, it’s the wildest kind of madness, messmates, worse than hydrophoby. “ I didn’t know what I was saying, only I quoted Shakespeare and them songs, until I saw Nettie rise up. “ ‘ lam no “ liar.” I have told you the truth. Until now I have loved you, and been faithful to you,” she said. ‘ Now I have lost every bit of respect I ever had for vou. That is the way out; take it.' “ I went.

“ I shipped next morning for a long voyage, thinking Nettie false, but ashamed of my fury, for all that, Larkin was my mate. I kept along with him, and we spent our time talking about women, and be told me his story. It was worse than mine a deal. “ Three years went by.

“We were baok in port. I didn’t even go ashore. I hated the place. And the captain wanting some shad for dinner—shad were in season—told me to fi.-h for some. 1 did. I caught a couple of fine ones and took ’em to the cook.

“ He cleaned 'em and I stood by. “ Now, mates, don’t go for to laugh, and say this is a fish story, after all. For I swear it’s as true as the compass, “ I watched the cook’s shining knife at work, and I saw something under its point that looked curious, and down went my thumb and finger. “ I lifted the shining thing out of the stomach of that shad, and saw it was a ring; a golden ring that shone again as I washed it in a pail of water and dried it on a dish cloth, and I turned it over in my hand and <-aw that there were letters inside, and I r,.ad ihe words —Nettie from Kan, 18—.’ “The cook picked me up a nimuo'after and gave me some brandy and walor, and I told him whose the ring was, and how I knew now that Nettie had told me the truth; and his advice was to go ashore and see her and try to make it up, “I hadn’t much hope, but I did what he advised, and came to the little home I knew by heart in no time. “The garden looked just the same, but there were two children at the door, and a woman I did not know, answered my knock. “ ‘ Mr. Wellis!’ said she; ‘he died, and his widow is gone away, I don’t know exactly where, only—’ 4 “ ‘ Hadn’t she a daughter ?’ I asked. “‘Oh, yes!’ said the woman, ‘Henrietta Amelia .lane. She was engaged to a sailor and he broke with her. She felt pretty bad about it, I guess. They thought she was going into a decline, but Mr. Marsh from the store, a real nice, gentlemanly young man, came and came, and he was awfully sweet on her, and kind o’ consoled her. “ ‘ They’re married now; that was what I was going to tell you. Widow Wells has gone to live with her son-in-law. She the world of him. He’s get a store somewhere, in business for himself, but whether it is Montany, or Californy or Alaaky, I don’t know, but you could inquire at the post-offioe.’ “ I didn’t take the trouble, messmates, and that’s the story of my ring and me, and why I’m an old bachelor alone in the world with, out chick or child; for I never loved anybody m all my life but Nettie Wells.” 3 7