The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 20, 1904, Page 8

S AN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. ; EN who do not value the lives value “their But ;this hers ofte highly enough ne world th this would rec personality— Dick Hardy's identity un- nobody but z w him by that. r ving somewhere up in it is better‘t Let it suffice to say alias something, but nbt p was known s one of the blackest er trod a deck. You s heroic brutali- Frisco to* Castcutta. In his & had go drug sail: ip them on the ss—she was a hard packet she is reckoned one omfortable in the ‘Amer- ship that T made my first trip to sea 4hat L.fizst heard of Hardy and while I have listened to umerabie of, him <gince,; and some of his exploits my- that tory knowjledge of< | always remain with me as a distinct impression when the authentic death en out by self, account of his the one man d the old Nicaraguan he had aboard reckless West Coast most of Coast because healthy for them anywhe ot “that the y a bad lot, but, as I hawv they ardy rers. the West already were of that class who had att toward human not compati with; the laws of more civilized part One of the men w Happy Steve. It temperament that name Usually an optimist is nota favdfite in a ship’s forecastle, but Steve could give everything such a humorous turn that his shipmates would laugh in spite of themselves. During the sec- ond dog watch he kept the men in a continuous roar of laughter with his tales of past zplof Happy Steve told many stories, but there was one that béat them all. We had passed the doldrums and were well down into the southeast trades, where the steady breeze made it seldom necessary to pull a rope or to touch a sail. In that respect it was slmost like steamboating. Our dog as a chap called his optimistic had given him his was For 1 WAS present™ Tl o v~ - \ watches were never disturbed, and man’s artistic ability as a story- ller was in full demand. evening the conversation turned to hard-case Yankee packets, of ships whe e and give blows with deadly Each man told of the had known, and as almost had known Dick Hardy Jack, he and his mys- terious fate became the principal sub- One intent. mat he one buc wa Joe. un,” commented da y: “blessed if he known hard-case mates, was on the square in Jack waren't; he was d hit a man when he bet,” agreed another man; was too good for him. He been ham-strung first, the arms in the main chains, in a pot o' tar.” 1 gave his idea of a Black JacK, and some genious. That is, all Happy Steve—he only tely as each man sept sald Xanaka Joe, have him co - ot uproariously, ticipation of a par- account of an imagin- th for Blac But Steve's laughter increas face was red with st sséd merriment. 4 ve,” said a Co t's ’ave keepin’ it all to blessed galo chortled , “I could tell ye a story would make yer eyes you chaps is a-talki with me he as could about him than any man And Steve shook with keen ation of the humor of it. ted a: hy don’t ye gested the Cockne:; nted " as how I am with a appreciate the funny side I am going to blige b Jack, Black ell ye m ers, T was bos'n’s mate of rn Cross the trip Black Jack I'll be hanged!” ejaculated the men together. Steve at the astonishment in their ou bet,” he continued, “an’ I am the boy as can tell ye a few things about that trip. “We lef i general rpool for Frisco with argo an’ a crowd o' green aboard as didn’t know the boom from a marlinspike. v, Black Jack piled into ’em got clear of Ushant Light, the scuppers was red with blood right an’ day. “Well, about five d a bit of na: weather, an’ one night all hands was up aloft reefin’ the fore upper topsail, Black Jack was up there in the bunt lookin’ arter the job. It so happened as I was next to him, but he didn’t know it was me. Well, s thing happened to rile him, and first thing I knew he landed on my jaw an’ nearly sent me down on deck. Fancy him takin’ me for a blasted out, we struck stopped for a moment to joy Black Jack’s mis- “Well,” he continued, when his laughter, had subsided, hen we got down: 1 ‘told him as how he had hit mg%by ‘mistake. But, blast me, ha didn’t see the joke. Good for ye,’ sez he. Well, naturally, that kind o’ riled me, bein’ taken for a bloomin’ green- horn; "ah 1+tdid* Black Jack right thén as how T'd fix him in Frisco. Upon which he fetches me an uppercut that ds me down to leeward into the scuppers. “Well, things went along that way. until we got down into the trades, an’ one night a fuhny idea struck me as [ was. a-pacin’¥thesdeck:' Ye remember, Black Jack was bow-legged, an’ I was larfin’ to myself, wonderin’ how he'd look swimmin’ with- them bow legs. Ever see a bow-legged man swim? Funniest thing yet. But Black Jack was the bow-leggedest man ye ever see. That idea stuck to me for a long time, an’ whenever I'd think of it, night or I'd larf. I was just a-hankerin’ to see Black Jack swim with them bow legs o' his a-waggin’ behind. “One night in the middle match the chap at the wheel wanted to be relieved a few minutes, so I went and took the el while he went for'd. Black Jack vas pacin’ the poop slowly, it bein’ a sultry night. Pretty soon he goes up to the weather rail and leans agin it, kind o' sleepy. “Well, fellers, those legs o' his never looked so bowed as they did then. I could already fancy him kicking them out as he was swimmin’. The more I thought the stronger that idea got. Thinks I to myself, ‘Here’s a man wot makes the world all the worse for be- in’ in it; why not give him a boost into »a better world?” An’ I thinks o’ the easy times wot would come to the poor chagd for'd wot he had lambasted o “every one. An* I thinks o' when he smashed me, too. But most of all I wanted to see a bow-legged man swim. “Say, you:fellers don’t know what a good larf is tlll ye see a bow legged man swim. T've seen it once.” Here Steve broke off his narrative to chuckle over funny memories. “Well,”. he resumed, “at lar: couldn’t stand it no longer. There was Black Jack a-leanin’ gver the rail, an’ there was me, dyin’ to see him swim. So I steadles the helm pretty good, an’ then kicks off my slippers, easy like, so’s he couldn't hear. An’ then I leaves the wheel, softly, an’ creeps up to the weather rail, an’ so hélp me, there was Black Jack a-snoozin’! Yessir, sleepin’ on his wateh. - Him, as would lam a poor feller from for’d near dead for doin’ that same thing. Wot yer think o that? “He was leanin’ over pretty far, holdin’ onto a awning stanchion. Wot &»fi&“»;& e an’ over he went, with the draw bucket stuck fast an' a-smotherin’ his squeals.” The humor of the situation—ghastly humor, perhaps—so struck all hands, due more to Steve's manner than to his words, that all burst cut into a long guffaw. The idea of Black Jack diving to his death with a draw bucket over his head seemed ridiculously funny. B “Well, fellers,” said Steve, after he had*wiped the tears from his own eyes, “the ship was goin’ a bare three knots, an’ the moon was out. I/could see the white foam spot where He went down, an’ aft I runs to the log line an watches. Will ye believe me—but it's true—all of a sudden I sees that white canvas draw bucket pop up with his two arms a-wavin' on each side of it. An’ there was them bow legs o' his a- waggin’ behind, like crab's mippers. Oh, say, fellers—" Again Steve went off into peals of merriment. Finally he was able to resume. “Well, boys, I jest leaned over the rail an’ larfed fit to burst myself. The way he was tryin’ to holler through he continued. Fore he could do that draw bucket an’ couldn’t would anything I ‘ups with his heels,’ as the, 'a’ given ye fits if ye'd a’heard the way chap on the ‘Nancy Bell’ would 'a’ said, he was a rippin’ up inside. I kinder ver think T did? Ye'd never guess. The canvas draw bucket was a-lyin’ on the skylight, an’ it looked so much like' a cork helmet I couldn’t help won- derin’ how it would fit Black Jack’s pear-shaped head. So*I sneaked over to the skylight an’ cut ‘off the rope. Then I tried it on my head, an’ it was jest a trifle too big. But, thinks I, itll jest fit Black Jack, a tight fit, too, s0's he couldn’t get it off. “Back to the weather rail I tiptoes, until I stands jest in back o’ Black Jack. His head was jest in a daisy position, so I carefully raises the draw bucket above it, an’ down I plumps it—jest jammed it down tight to his shoulders. “Well, fellers, ye'd 'a’ larfed to see the jump he made, like a chicken with its head -cut off, a-floppin’ his arms like they was wings. Yessir, jest like a bloomin’ chicken.” The simile struck Steve's sen: of humor so strongly that it was some moments before he could continue. Even some o? his audience laughed with him. h “But that was only for a minute,”™ AN T%ft i THEN ULEGS O HIS A wAGGIN B NG LIKE CEABS NIFFERO reckon the cuss words he was lettin’ out weighed the bucket down, an’ them, with the iron band, sent him nose down. Larst I see was his two bow legs a-kickin’ up in the air, an’ then I went back to the wheel. “When the chap came back me I didn’t say nothin’, but v the third mate misses Black as he couldn't find him, he go the skipper. Tt etty soon s an’ ol' man comes on de and We squares in our yards an’ sail back over our course, burnin' blue lights an’ -shoutin’ like ’ell; an’ I was shoutin’ louder ’an any of 'em, but you bflkt\ ¢ didn't see no signs of Bl Jac] th his head in a draw bucket. Say, felle: wot . ye suppose old Nick sald when he saw Black Jack comin’ up to the gates of hell with that draw bucket over his head? Blessed if T wouldn’t 'a’' been willin’ to stand the high temperatoore for a few minutes jest to see what happened.” The idea seemed so humorous to Happy Steve that the story ended in a long, hearty laugh, interpolated by humorous comments on an imaginary conversation ‘between his Satanic Majesty and Black Jack, with the draw bucket presenting difficulties in the way of mutual recognition. Happy £t the mu e he laughter. When we arri again referred to mmitted, and each story with hearty y Happy the Swan River heard that . but he died as s The ac- cracked iere that wasnit ap- inglish miners, and ated a shooting scrape. : cleared away three were stretched ad cracked his id that his Ameri- been understood, chuckled i derately and then This y not be ex- actly true, but it was characteristic of him. Some years later I met a man who had been on the “Southern Cross™ on that same eventful trip, and when I asked him who was bos'n’'s mate at the time, he replied: ¥, a humorous sort o" chap—e& feller called Steve White.” (Copyright, 1903, by Albert Somniche an humor