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Runciman, James, 1852-1891

"The Chequers Being the Natural History of a Public-House, Set Forth in a Loafer's Diary"


The cold grew worse and worse, and it seemed to creep toward Jack's
heart. He gave one cry, and instantly he heard a faint answer. Could it
be the scream of a gull? Nay, they rest at night. He called again, and
the voice of his agony was answered by a loud hail; then a flare was
lit, and Jack knew that the steamer's boat had been searching for him.
"Easy. Shove the painter under his arms, and then two of you haul."
So Jack was plumped into the boat, and lay limp and sick. In an hour he
was warm asleep in his berth on board the steamer, and, I am afraid to
say that he begged hard for a pipe before he dozed over.
The steamer took him home, and he was received in a matter-of-fact way
by his people. He had had a dousing! Yes, but it was all in the day's
work. That is the way in which the good folk talk.
Jack was never the same again, and some of the old men said "he looked
as if he had seen something." Yes, he had seen something, and he said to
Sally, "All right about that letter of yours.


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