By Sheer Pluck, a Tale of the Ashanti War by G. A. (George Alfred) Henty
page 29 of 326 (08%)
page 29 of 326 (08%)
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just about your age, nigh forty years ago. I went out for a sail
with my father in his fishing boat, and I didn't come back for three years. That was the only long voyage I ever went. I've been sticking to fishing ever since." "How was it you were away three years?" Handcock asked, "and what was the adventure? Tell us about it." "Well, it's rather a long yarn," the boatman said. "Well, your best plan, Jack," Ruthven said, putting his hand in his pocket and bringing out sixpence, "will be for you to go across the road and wet your whistle before you begin." "Thank ye, young gentleman. I will take three o' grog and an ounce of 'bacca." He went across to the public house, and soon returned with a long clay in his hand. Then he sat down on the shingle with his back against a boat, and the boys threw themselves down close to him. "Now," he began, when he had filled his pipe with great deliberation and got it fairly alight, "this here yarn as I'm going to tell you ain't no gammon. Most of the tales which gets told on the beach to visitors as comes down here and wants to hear of sea adventures is just lies from beginning to end. Now, I ain't that sort, leastways, I shouldn't go to impose upon young gents like you as ha' had a real adventure of your own, and showed oncommon good pluck and coolness too. I don't say, mind ye, that every word is just gospel. My mates as ha' known me from a boy tells me that I've 'bellished the yarn |
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