Then we rowed like devils fur the lot of
stuff that was bobbin' about on the water, out where the Mary
Auguster had been. In we went among the floatin' spars and
ship's timbers, I keepin' the things off with an oar, the two men
rowin', an' Andy in the bow.
"Suddenly Andy give a yell, an' then he reached himself
for'ard with sech a bounce that I thought he'd go overboard. But
up he come in a minnit, his two 'leven-inch hands gripped round a
box. He sot down in the bottom of the boat with the box on his
lap an' his eyes screwed on some letters that was stamped on one
end. `Pidjin-pies!' he sings out. "Tain't turkeys, nor 'tain't
cranberries but, by the Lord Harry, it's Christmas pies all the
same!' After that Andy didn't do no more work, but sot holdin'
that box as if it had been his fust baby. But we kep' pushin' on
to see what else there was. It's my 'pinion that the biggest
part of that bark's cargo was blowed into mince-meat, an' the
most of the rest of it was so heavy that it sunk. But it wasn't
all busted up, an' it didn't all sink. There was a big piece of
wreck with a lot of boxes stove into the timbers, and some of
these had in 'em beef ready b'iled an' packed into cans, an'
there was other kinds of meat, an' dif'rent sorts of
vegetables, an' one box of turtle soup. I looked at every one of
'em as we took 'em in, an' when we got the little boat pretty
well loaded I wanted to still keep on searchin'; but the men they
said that shore boat 'u'd sink if we took in any more cargo, an'
so we put back, I feelin' glummer'n I oughter felt, fur I had
begun to be afeared that canned fruit, sech as peaches, was
heavy, an' li'ble to sink.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190