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    A Sailor's Lass
    A Sailor's Lass
    A Sailor's Lass
    Ebook85 pages1 hour

    A Sailor's Lass

    By Emma Leslie

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    About this ebook

    EmmaLeslie's actual name is Emma Dixon and that she lived from 1837-1909 and madeher home in Lewisham, Kent, in the south of England. She was a prolificVictorian children’s author who wrote over 100 books. Emma Leslie’s firstbook, The Two Orphans, was published in 1863, and her books remained in printfor years after her death.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKrill Press
    Release dateFeb 28, 2016
    ISBN9781531236816

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      Book preview

      A Sailor's Lass - Emma Leslie

      A SAILOR’S LASS

      ..................

      Emma Leslie

      MILK PRESS

      Thank you for reading. In the event that you appreciate this book, please consider sharing the good word(s) by leaving a review, or connect with the author.

      This book is a work of fiction; its contents are wholly imagined.

      All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

      Copyright © 2016 by Emma Leslie

      Interior design by Pronoun

      Distribution by Pronoun

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      CHAPTER I.

      CHAPTER II.

      CHAPTER III.

      CHAPTER IV.

      CHAPTER V.

      CHAPTER VI.

      CHAPTER VII.

      CHAPTER VIII.

      A Sailor’s Lass

      By

      Emma Leslie

      A Sailor’s Lass

      Published by Milk Press

      New York City, NY

      First published circa 1909

      Copyright © Milk Press, 2015

      All rights reserved

      Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      About Milk Press

      Milk Press loves books, and we want the youngest generation to grow up and love them just as much. We publish classic children’s literature for young and old alike, including cherished fairy tales and the most famous novels and stories.

      CHAPTER I.

      ..................

      ONE STORMY NIGHT.

      Mother, we’re afloat agin. It was a gruff, sleepy voice that spoke, and the old fisherman turned over and snored on, as though the fact of their home being afloat was of no consequence to him. His wife, however, was by no means so easy in her mind, for it was only during the equinoctial gales and an unusually high tide that their home was lifted from its moorings; and now it had been swinging and swaying for hours, and the rusty chains that held it fast to some posts were creaking and straining as though the next gust of windwould certainly carry them out to sea or drive them up the river, where they would inevitably be swamped in a very short time, for their boat-home was leaky at the bottom—had been a water-logged boat before the fisherman took possession of it and turned it into a quaint-looking cottage by running up some wooden walls along the sides, and roofing it in with planks and tarpaulin. Thus converted into a dwelling-house, the boat had been secured, by four chains fixed to posts in the ground, on the top of a mud-bank that formed the boundary of the mouth of the river.

      The ocean itself was less than a quarter of a mile from where the old boat was moored, and so the poor woman might well be excused for growing more alarmed as the minutes went on and the gale increased, until the boat fairly rocked, and the children in the adjoining cabin began crying and screaming in their fright.

      Coomber! Coomber! she said at last, shaking her husband, and starting up in bed; for a sound more dreadful than the children’sscreams had made itself heard above the din of the wind and waves.

      There’s a ship, Coomber, close in shore; I can hear the guns! screamed his wife, giving him another vigorous shake.

      Ship! guns! exclaimed the old fisherman, starting up in bed. The next minute he was on his feet, and working himself into his clothes. She must be on the sand-bar if you heard the guns, he said.

      A sudden lurch of the boat almost pitched the old man forward, and the children’s screams redoubled, while Mrs. Coomber hastily scrambled out of bed and lighted the lantern that hung against the wall.

      What are yer going to do? asked her husband, in some surprise; women ain’t no good in such work as this.

      What are you going to do? asked Mrs. Coomber, almost crying herself; the boat will soon be adrift with this wind and tide, and we shall all be drowned like rats in a hole.

      Nay, nay, old woman, the boat was made taut enough before I brought you here, and you think she wouldn’t have broke away before this if she was going to do it? Don’t be a stupid lubber, he added.

      But the children, Coomber, the children. I ain’t afraid for myself, said the mother, with a sob.

      Well, well, the old boat’ll hold the boys for many a day yet, said the fisherman; you go in and stop their noise, while I get help for the poor souls that are surely perishing out there.

      But what can you do for them? asked his wife; there ain’t a boat besides ours at Bermuda Point, nor a man to help you manage it besides Bob.

      No, no; Bob and I couldn’t manage the boat in such a sea as this; but he shall go with me to Fellness. Bob! Bob! called his father, in the same breath.

      Aye, aye, came an answering shout from the adjoining cabin.

      Slip into your things as quick as you can; we must be off to Fellness; there’s a ship out there on the bar sands.

      I’m a’most ready, dad; I heard mother call yer, and thought you’d let me go along, replied Bob.

      Before the fisherman put on his sou’-wester he took a black bottle from a recess, and after taking a hearty draught, he said, It’s lucky we’ve got a drop to-night, as he handed it to his wife; and with a parting word to her not to be afraid, he and Bob stepped out of the boat-house door, to meet the full fury of the blast, that threatened at first to carry them off their legs. The three miles’ walk to the little fishing village of Fellness was no easy task such a wild night as this, for although the road was inland, it was fully exposed to the sea, and between the wilder outbreaks of the wind and rain they could hear the guns of distress, and occasionally see a rocket piercing the midnight blackness of the sky, appealing for help for the drowning men.

      At the coastguard station, midway betweenthe Point and the village, they found the men on the alert, and two volunteered to go with Coomber and help man the boat. Then the four plodded silently along the slushy

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