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Runciman, James, 1852-1891

"A Dream of the North Sea"

Frolicsome! isn't it?"
"Well, we've stood another dreary day out; but think of those poor
beggars aft, lying in pain and loneliness. Tom, let's say our prayers; I
don't know that there's much good in it, but when I think of twelve
thousand men bearing such a life as we've had, I think there
must--there must be some Power that won't let it last for ever. Mind,
when we've done praying, no more sentiment; we'll smoke and laugh after
we've put in a word for the fishermen--and ourselves."
"And somebody else."
"Who?"
"I'll write and ask Mr. Cassall. That's Miss Dearsley's uncle."
I have seen our Englishmen fool on in that aimless way during all sorts
of peril and trouble. I want you to understand that the evangelist and
the sceptic both were prepared to hear the scraunch of the collision on
that deadly night; they had seen two entire ships' companies lost since
they came out, yet they would not give in or look serious altogether.
They had come to found a hospital for the mangled hundreds of fishermen,
and they were going through with their task in the steady, dogged,
light-hearted British way. Foreigners and foreigneering Englishmen say
it is blockheaded denseness. Is it?


CHAPTER II.
A CRUCIAL TEST.

"When you sailed away in the Yarmouth ships,
I waved my hand as you passed the pier;
It was just an hour since you kissed my lips,
And I'll never kiss you no more, my dear.
* * * * *
"For now they tell me you're dead and gone,
And all the world is nothing to me;
And there's the baby, our only one,
The bonny bairn that you'll never see.


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