Blow the Man Down - A Romance of the Coast

The Polly, being old enough to be celebrated, had been the subject of

a long-coast lyric of seventeen verses, any one of which was capable of

producing most horrible profanity from Captain Epps Candage, her master,

whenever he heard the ditty echoing over the waves, sung by a satirist

aboard another craft.

In that drifting wind there was leisure; a man on board a lime-schooner

at a fairly safe distance from the Polly found inclination and lifted

his voice: "Ow-w-w, here comes the Polly with a lopped-down sail,

And Rubber-boot Epps, is a-settin' on her rail.

How-w-w long will she take to get to Boston town?

Can't just tell 'cause she's headin' up and down."

"You think that kind o' ky-yi is funny, do you, you walnut-nosed,

blue-gilled, goggle-eyed son of a dough-faced americaneezus?" bellowed

Captain Candage, from his post at the Polly's wheel.

"Father!" remonstrated a girl who stood in the companionway, her elbows

propped on the hatch combings. "Such language! You stop it!"

"It ain't half what I can do when I'm fair started," returned the

captain.

"You never say such things on shore."

"Well, I ain't on shore now, be I? I'm on the high seas, and I'm talking

to fit the occasion. Who's running this schooner, you or me?"

She met his testiness with a spirit of her own, "I'm on board here,

where I don't want to be, because of your silly notions, father. I have

the right to ask you to use decent language, and not shame us both."

Against the archaically homely background the beauty of the young girl

appeared in most striking contrast. Her curls peeped out from under the

white Dutch cap she wore. Her eyes sparkled with indignant protest, her

face was piquant and was just then flushed, and her nose had the least

bit of a natural uptilt, giving her the air of a young woman who had a

will of her own to spice her amiability.

Captain Candage blinked at her over the spokes of the wheel, and in his

father's heart acknowledged her charm, realizing more acutely that

his motherless girl had become too much of a problem for his limited

knowledge in the management of women.

He had not seen her grow up gradually, as other fathers had viewed their

daughters, being able to meet daily problems in molding and mastery.

She seemed to reach development, mental and physical, in disconcerting

phases while he was away on his voyages. Each time he met her he was

obliged to get acquainted all over again, it appeared to him.