Various - "A Book Of German Lyrics"

Wilhelm Meinhold - "The Amber Witch"

Grace S. Richmond - "Under the Country Sky"

Victor Hugo - "Napoleon the Little"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

A Jolly Fellowship

F >> Frank R. Stockton >> A Jolly Fellowship




Rectus didn't suppose that, and neither did any of the rest of us, but I
thought we ought to look up the captain and tell him.

"But, you see," said Scott, "it's just possible he _might_ put back."

"Well, don't you want to go back?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, but I would like a sail back in a pilot-boat," said
Scott, and Harry Alden agreed with him. Tom Myers and his brother George
wanted to go back right away.

We talked the matter over a good deal. I didn't wish to appear as if I
wanted to get rid of the fellows who had been kind enough to come all
the way from Willisville to see me off, but I couldn't help thinking
that it didn't look exactly fair and straightforward not to say that
these boys were not passengers until the pilot was ready to go back. I
determined to go and see about the matter, but I would wait a little
while.

It was cool on deck, especially now that the vessel was moving along,
but we all buttoned up our coats and walked up and down. The sun shone
brightly, and the scene was so busy and lively with the tug-boats
puffing about, and the vessels at anchor, and the ferry-boats, and a
whole bay-full of sights curious to us country boys, that we all enjoyed
ourselves very much--except Tom Myers and his brother George. They
didn't look happy.




CHAPTER II.

GOING BACK WITH THE PILOT.


We were pretty near the Narrows when I thought it was about time to let
the captain, or one of the officers, know that there were some people on
board who didn't intend to take the whole trip. I had read in the
newspapers that committees and friends who went part way with
distinguished people generally left them in the lower bay.

But I was saved the trouble of looking for an officer, for one of them,
the purser, came along, collecting tickets. I didn't give him a chance
to ask Scott or any of the other fellows for something that they didn't
have, but went right up to him and told him how the matter stood.

"I must see the captain about this," he said, and off he went.

"He didn't look very friendly," said Scott, and I had to admit that he
didn't.

In a few moments the captain came walking rapidly up to us. He was a
tall man, dressed in blue, with side-whiskers, and an oil-cloth cap.
The purser came up behind him.

"What's all this?" said the captain. "Are you not passengers, you boys?"
He did not look very friendly, either, as he asked this question.

[Illustration: THE VESSEL IS OFF.]

"Two of us are," I said, "but four of us were carried off
accidentally."

"Accident? Fiddlesticks!" exclaimed the captain. "Didn't you know the
vessel was starting? Hadn't you time to get off? Didn't you hear the
gong? Everybody else heard it. Are you all deaf?"

This was a good deal to answer at once, so I just said that I didn't
remember hearing any gong. Tom Myers and his brother George, however,
spoke up, and said that they had heard a gong, they thought, but did not
know what it was for.

"Why didn't you ask, then?" said the captain, who was getting worse in
his humor. I had a good mind to tell him that it would take up a good
deal of the crew's time if Tom Myers and his brother George asked about
everything they didn't understand on board this ship, but I thought I
had better not. I have no doubt the gong sounded when we were having our
row in the state-room, and were not likely to pay attention to it even
if we did hear it.

"And why, in the name of common sense," the captain went on, "didn't you
come and report, the instant you found the vessel had started? Did you
think we were fast to the pier all this time?"

Then Scott thought he might as well come out square with the truth; and
he told how they made up their minds, after they found that the steamer
had really started, with them on board, not to make any fuss about it,
nor give anybody any trouble to stop the ship, or to put back, but just
to stay quietly on board, and go back with the pilot. They thought that
would be most convenient, all around.

"Go back with the pilot!" the captain cried. "Why, you young idiot,
there _is_ no pilot! Coastwise steamers don't carry pilots. I am my own
pilot. There is no pilot going back!"

You ought to have seen Scott's face!

[Illustration: SCOTT AND THE CAPTAIN.]

Nobody said anything. We all just stood and looked at the captain. Tears
began to come into the eyes of Tom Myers and his brother George.

"What are they to do?" asked the purser of the captain. "Buy tickets for
Savannah?"

"We can't do that," said Scott, quickly. "We haven't any money."

"I don't know what they're to do," replied the captain. "I'd like to
chuck 'em overboard." And with this agreeable little speech he walked
away.

The purser now took the two tickets for Rectus and myself, and saying:
"We'll see what's to be done with the rest of you fellows," he walked
away, too.

Then we all looked at one another. We were a pretty pale lot, and I
believe that Rectus and I, who were all right, felt almost as badly as
the four other boys, who were all wrong.

"We _can't_ go to Savannah!" said Harry Alden. "What right have they to
take us to Savannah?"

"Well, then, you'd better get out and go home," said Scott. "I don't so
much mind their taking us to Savannah, for they can't make us pay if we
haven't any money. But how are we going to get back? That's the
question. And what'll the professor think? He'll write home that we've
run away. And what'll we do in Savannah without any money?"

"You'd better have thought of some of these things before you got us
into waiting to go back with the pilot," said Harry.

As for Tom Myers and his brother George, they just sat down and put
their arms on the railing, and clapped their faces down on their arms.
They cried all over their coat-sleeves, but kept as quiet as they could
about it. Whenever these two boys had to cry before any of the rest of
the school-fellows, they had learned to keep very quiet about it.

While the rest of us were talking away, and Scott and Harry finding
fault with each other, the captain came back. He looked in a little
better humor.

"The only thing that can be done with you boys," he said, "is to put you
on some tug or small craft that's going back to New York. If we meet
one, I'll lie to and let you off. But it will put me to a great deal of
trouble, and we may meet with nothing that will take you aboard. You
have acted very badly. If you had come right to me, or to any of the
officers, the moment you found we had started, I could have easily put
you on shore. There are lots of small boats about the piers that would
have come out after you, or I might even have put back. But I can do
nothing now but look out for some craft bound for New York that will
take you aboard. If we don't meet one, you'll have to go on to
Savannah."

This made us feel a little better. We were now in the lower bay, and
there would certainly be some sort of a vessel that would stop for the
boys. We all went to the forward deck and looked out. It was pretty cold
there, and we soon began to shiver in the wind, but still we stuck it
out.

There were a good many vessels, but most of them were big ones. We could
hardly have the impudence to ask a great three-masted ship, under full
sail, to stop and give us a lift to New York. At any rate, we had
nothing to do with the asking. The captain would attend to that. But
every time we came near a vessel going the other way, we looked about to
see if we could see anything of an officer with a trumpet, standing all
ready to sing out, "Sail ho!"

But, after a while, we felt so cold that we couldn't stand it any
longer, and we went below. We might have gone and stood by the
smoke-stack and warmed ourselves, but we didn't know enough about ships
to think of this.

We hadn't been standing around the stove in the dining-room more than
ten minutes, before the purser came hurrying toward us.

"Come, now," he said, "tumble forward! The captain's hailed a
pilot-boat."

"Hurrah!" said Scott; "we're going back in a pilot-boat, after all!" and
we all ran after the purser to the lower forward deck. Our engines had
stopped, and not far from us was a rough-looking little schooner with a
big "17" painted in black on her mainsail. She was "putting about," the
purser said, and her sails were flapping in the wind.

There was a great change in the countenances of Tom Myers and his
brother George. They looked like a couple of new boys.

"Isn't this capital?" said Scott. "Everything's turned out all right."

But all of a sudden he changed his tune.

"Look here!" said he to me, pulling me on one side; "wont that pilot
want to be paid something? He wont stop his vessel and take us back for
nothing, will he?"

I couldn't say anything about this, but I asked the purser, who still
stood by us.

"I don't suppose he'll make any regular charge," said he; "but he'll
expect you to give him something,--whatever you please."

"But we haven't anything," said Scott to me. "We have our return tickets
to Willisville, and that's about all."

"Perhaps we can't go back, after all," said Harry, glumly, while Tom
Myers and his brother George began to drop their lower jaws again.

I did not believe that the pilot-boat people would ask to see the boys'
money before they took them on board; but I couldn't help feeling that
it would be pretty hard for them to go ashore at the city and give
nothing for their passages but promises, and so I called Rectus on one
side, and proposed to lend the fellows some money. He agreed, and I
unpinned a banknote and gave it to Scott. He was mightily tickled to get
it, and vowed he'd send it back to me in the first letter he wrote (and
he did it, too).

The pilot-schooner did not come very near us, but she lowered a boat
with two men in it, and they rowed up to the steamer. Some of our
sailors let down a pair of stairs, and one of the men in the boat came
up to see what was wanted. The purser was telling him, when the captain,
who was standing on the upper deck, by the pilot-house, sung out:

"Hurry up there, now, and don't keep this vessel here any longer. Get
'em out as quick as you can, Mr. Brown."

The boys didn't stop to have this kind invitation repeated, and Scott
scuffled down the stairs into the boat as fast as he could, followed
closely by Harry Alden. Tom Myers and his brother George stopped long
enough to bid each of us good-bye, and shake hands with us, and then
they went down the stairs. They had to climb over the railing to the
platform in front of the wheel-house to get to the stairs, and as the
steamer rolled a little, and the stairs shook, they went down very
slowly, backward, and when they got to the bottom were afraid to step
into the boat, which looked pretty unsteady as it wobbled about under
them.

"Come, there! Be lively!" shouted the captain.

Just then, Rectus made a step forward. He had been looking very
anxiously at the boys as they got into the boat, but he hadn't said
anything.

"Where are you going?" said I; for, as quick as a flash, the thought
came into my mind that Rectus's heart had failed him, and that he would
like to back out.

"I think I'll go back with the boys," he said, making another step
toward the top of the stairs, down which the man from the pilot-boat was
hurrying.

"Just you try it!" said I, and I put out my arm in front of him.

He didn't try it, and I'm glad he didn't, for I should have been sorry
enough to have had the boys go back and say that when they last saw
Rectus and I we were having a big fight on the deck of the steamer.

The vessel now started off, and Rectus and I went to the upper deck and
stood and watched the little boat, as it slowly approached the
schooner. We were rapidly leaving them, but we saw the boys climb on
board, and one of them--it must have been Scott--waved his handkerchief
to us. I waved mine in return, but Rectus kept his in his pocket. I
don't think he felt in a wavy mood.

While we were standing looking at the distant pilot-boat, I began to
consider a few matters; and the principal thing was this: How were
Rectus and I to stand toward each other? Should we travel like a couple
of school-friends, or should I make him understand that he was under my
charge and control, and must behave himself accordingly? I had no idea
what he thought of the matter, and by the way he addressed me when we
met, I supposed that it was possible that he looked upon me very much as
he used to when we went to school together. If he had said Mr. Gordon,
it would have been more appropriate, I thought, and would have
encouraged me, too, in taking position as his supervisor. As far as my
own feelings were concerned, I think I would have preferred to travel
about on a level with Rectus, and to have a good time with him, as two
old school-fellows might easily have, even if one did happen to be two
years older than the other. But that would not be earning my salary.
After a good deal of thought, I came to the conclusion that I would let
things go on as they would, for a while, giving Rectus a good deal of
rope; but the moment he began to show signs of insubordination, I would
march right on him, and quell him with an iron hand. After that, all
would be plain sailing, and we could have as much fun as we pleased,
for Rectus would know exactly how far he could go.

There were but few passengers on deck, for it was quite cold, and it now
began to grow dark, and we went below. Pretty soon the dinner-bell rang,
and I was glad to hear it, for I had the appetite of a horse. There was
a first-rate dinner, ever so many different kinds of dishes, all up and
down the table, which had ridges running lengthwise, under the
table-cloth, to keep the plates from sliding off, if a storm should come
up. Before we were done with dinner the shelves above the table began to
swing a good deal,--or rather the vessel rolled and the shelves kept
their places,--so I knew we must be pretty well out to sea, but I had
not expected it would be so rough, for the day had been fine and clear.
When we left the table, it was about as much as we could do to keep our
feet, and in less than a quarter of an hour I began to feel dreadfully.
I stuck it out as long as I could, and then I went to bed. The old ship
rolled, and she pitched, and she heaved, and she butted, right and left,
against the waves, and made herself just as uncomfortable for human
beings as she could, but, for all that, I went to sleep after a while.

I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, there was Rectus,
sitting on a little bench by the state-room wall, with his feet braced
against the berth. He was hard at work sucking a lemon. I turned over
and looked down at him. He didn't look a bit sick. I hated to see him
eating lemons.

"Don't you feel badly, Rectus?" said I.

"Oh no!" said he; "I'm all right. You ought to suck a lemon. Have one?"

I declined his offer. The idea of eating or drinking anything was
intensely disagreeable to me. I wished that Rectus would put down that
lemon. He did throw it away after a while, but he immediately began to
cut another one.

[Illustration: RECTUS AND THE LEMONS.]

"Rectus," said I, "you'll make yourself sick. You'd better go to bed."

"It's just the thing to stop me from being sick," said he, and at that
minute the vessel gave her stern a great toss over sideways, which sent
Rectus off his seat, head foremost into the wash-stand. I was glad to
see it. I would have been glad of almost anything that stopped that
lemon business.

But it didn't stop it; and he only picked himself up, and sat down
again, his lemon at his mouth.

"Rectus!" I cried, leaning out of my berth. "Put down that lemon and go
to bed!"

He put down the lemon without a word, and went to bed. I turned over
with a sense of relief. Rectus was subordinate!




CHAPTER III.

RECTUS OPENS HIS EYES.


I was all right the next day, and we staid on deck most of the time,
standing around the smoke-stack when our noses got a little blue with
the cold. There were not many other people on deck. I was expecting
young Rectus to have his turn at sea-sickness, but he disappointed me.
He spent a good deal of his time calculating our position on a little
folding-map he had. He inquired how fast we were going, and then he
worked the whole thing out, from Sandy Hook to Savannah, marking on the
map the hours at which he ought to be at such and such a place. He tried
his best to get his map of the course all right, and made a good many
alterations, so that we were off Cape Charles several times in the
course of the day. Rectus had never been very good at calculations, and
I was glad to see that he was beginning to take an interest in such
things.

The next morning, just after day-break, we were awakened by a good deal
of tramping about on deck, over our heads, and we turned out, sharp, to
see what the matter was. Rectus wanted me to wait, after we were
dressed, until he could get out his map and calculate where we were, but
I couldn't stop for such nonsense, for I knew that his kind of
navigation didn't amount to much, and so we scrambled up on deck. The
ship was pitching and tossing worse than she had done yet. We had been
practising the "sea-leg" business the day before, and managed to walk
along pretty well; but this morning our sea-legs didn't work at all, and
we couldn't take a step without hanging on to something. When we got on
deck, we found that the first officer, or mate,--his name was
Randall,--with three or four sailors, was throwing the lead to see how
deep the water was. We hung on to a couple of stays and watched them. It
was a rousing big lead, a foot long, and the line ran out over a pulley
at the stern. A sailor took the lead a good way forward before he threw
it, so as to give it a chance to get to the bottom before the steamer
passed over it and began to tow it. When they pulled it in, we were
surprised to see that it took three men to do it. Then Mr. Randall
scooped out a piece of tallow that was in a hollow in the bottom of the
lead, and took it to show to the captain, whose room was on deck. I knew
this was one way they had of finding out where they were, for they
examined the sand or mud on the tallow, and so knew what sort of a
bottom they were going over; and all the different kinds of bottom were
marked out on their charts.

As Mr. Randall passed us, Rectus sung out to him, and asked him where we
were now.

"Off Hatteras," said he, quite shortly.

I didn't think Rectus should have bothered Mr. Randall with questions
when he was so busy; but after he went into the captain's room, the men
did not seem to have much to do, and I asked one of them how deep it
was.

"About seventeen fathoms," said he.

"Can we see Cape Hatteras?" I said, trying to get a good look landward
as the vessel rolled over that way.

"No," said the man. "We could see the light just before day-break, but
the weather's gettin' thick now, and we're keepin' out."

It was pretty thick to the west, that was true. All that I could see in
the distance was a very mixed-up picture of wave-tops and mist. I knew
that Cape Hatteras was one of the most dangerous points on the coast,
and that sailors were always glad when they had safely rounded it, and
so I began to take a good deal of interest in what was going on. There
was a pretty strong wind from the south-east, and we had no sail set at
all. Every now and then the steamer would get herself up on top of a big
wave, and then drop down, sideways, as if she were sliding off the top
of a house. The mate and the captain soon came out on deck together, and
the captain went forward to the pilot-house, while Mr. Randall came over
to his men, and they got ready to throw the lead again. It didn't seem
to me that the line ran out as far as it did the last time, and I think
I heard Mr. Randall say, "Fourteen." At any rate, a man was sent forward
to the pilot-house, and directly we heard the rudder-chains creaking,
and the big iron arms of the rudder, which were on deck, moved over
toward the landward side of the vessel, and I knew by that that the
captain was putting her head out to sea. Mr. Randall took out the tallow
from the lead and laid it in an empty bucket that was lashed to the
deck. He seemed to be more anxious now about the depth of water than
about the kind of bottom we were passing over. The lead was just about
to be thrown again, when Rectus, who had taken the tallow out of the
bucket, which stood near us, and had examined it pretty closely, started
off to speak to Mr. Randall, with the tallow in his hand.

[Illustration: "'HOLD YOUR TONGUE!' ROARED MR. RANDALL."]

"Look here!" said Rectus, holding on to the railing. "I'll tell you what
would be a sight better than tallow for your leads. Just you get some
fine, white Castile-soap, and----"

"Confound you!" roared Mr. Randall, turning savagely on him. "Hold your
tongue! For three cents I'd tie you to this line and drag the bottom
with you!"

Rectus made no answer. He didn't offer him the three cents, but came
away promptly, and put the piece of tallow back in the bucket. He didn't
get any comfort from me.

"Haven't you got any better sense," I said to him, "than to go, with
your nonsense, to the first officer at such a time as this? I never saw
such a boy!"

"But the soap _is_ better than the tallow," said Rectus. "It's finer and
whiter, and would take up the sand better."

"No, it wouldn't," I growled at him; "the water would wash it out in
half a minute. You needn't be trying to tell anybody on this ship what
they ought to do."

"But supposing----" said he.

"No," I exclaimed, in a way that made him jump, "there's no supposing
about it. If you know their business better than they do, why, just let
it stand that way. It wont hurt you."

I was pretty mad, I must say, for I didn't want to see a fellow like
Rectus trying to run the ship. But you couldn't stay mad with Rectus
long. He didn't mean any wrong, and he gave no words back, and so, as
you might expect, we were all right again by breakfast-time.

The next morning we were surprised to feel how warm it was on deck. We
didn't need our overcoats. The sea was ever so much smoother, too. There
were two or three ladies on deck, who could walk pretty well.

About noon, I was standing on the upper deck, when I saw Rectus coming
toward me, looking very pale. He was generally a dark sort of a boy, and
it made a good deal of difference in him to look pale. I was sure he was
going to be sick, at last,--although it was rather queer for him to
knock under when the voyage was pretty nearly over,--and I began to
laugh, when he said to me, in a nervous sort of way:

"I tell you what it is, I believe that we've gone past the mouth of the
Savannah River. According to my calculations," said he, pointing to a
spot on his map, which he held in his hand, "we must be down about here,
off the Georgia coast."

I have said that I began to laugh, and now I kept on. I just sat down
and roared, so that the people looked at me.

"You needn't laugh," said Rectus. "I believe it's so."

"All right, my boy," said I; "but we wont tell the captain. Just let's
wait and have the fun of seeing him turn around and go back."

Rectus didn't say anything to this, but walked off with his map.

[Illustration: "RECTUS SHOWED ME THE MAP."]

Now, that boy was no fool. I believe that he was beginning to feel like
doing something, and, as he had never done anything before, he didn't
know how.

About twelve o'clock we reached the mouth of the Savannah (without
turning back), and sailed twenty miles up the river to the city.

We were the first two persons off that vessel, and we took a hack to the
hotel that the purser had recommended to us, and had the satisfaction of
reaching it about ten minutes ahead of the people who came in the
omnibus; although I don't know that that was of much use to us, as the
clerk gave us top rooms, any way.

We went pretty nearly all over Savannah that afternoon and the next day.
It's a beautiful city. There is a little public square at nearly every
corner, and one of the wide streets has a double row of big trees
running right down the middle of it, with grass under them, and, what
seemed stranger yet, the trees were all in leaf, little children were
playing on the grass, and the weather was warm and splendid. The gardens
in front of the houses were full of roses and all sorts of flowers in
blossom, and Rectus wanted to buy a straw hat and get his linen trousers
out of his trunk.

"No, sir," said I; "I'm not going around with a fellow wearing a straw
hat and linen breeches in January. You don't see anybody else wearing
them."

"No," said he; "but it's warm enough."

"You may think so," I answered; "but I guess they know their own
business best. This is their coldest season, and if they wore straw hats
and linen clothes now, what would they put on when the scorching hot
weather comes?"

Rectus didn't know, and that matter was dropped. There is a pretty park
at the back of the town, and we walked about it, and sat under the
trees, and looked at the flowers, and the fountain playing, and enjoyed
it ever so much. If it had been summer, and we had been at home, we
shouldn't have cared so much for these things; but sitting under trees,
and lounging about over the green grass, while our folks at home were up
to their eyes, or thereabouts, in snow and ice, delighted both of us,
especially Rectus. I never heard him talk so much.

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