Drops Of Spray From Southern Seas

Drops of Spray From Southern Seas Written by Lucy Brown ReynoldsPublished in Waterville, Maine in the year 1896Dedication:In Memory of My Mother, Who Died at Sea, After a Long and Painful Illness, I Dedicate This Book. Contents:Chapter I. Memories of Home — Chapter II. Yellow Jack — Chapter III. Through Storm And Darkness — Chapter IV. The Brig Cadet — Chapter V. Our Arrival In Port Chalmers — Chapter VI. Newcastle: Hotel Cuterion — Chapter VII. Fired On By A Chilean Man-Of-War — Chapter VII. A Happy Day — Chapter VIII. The Death Of Our Mother — Chapter IX. Our Arrival In San Francisco — Chapter X. Eight Days In A Sleeping Car — Chapter XI. Joyful News — Chapter XII. Our Stepmother — Chapter XIII. A Little Stranger — Chapter XIV. Two Weeks In Bass Straits — Chapter XV. Through Torres Straits — Chapter XVI. Surabaya: The Burning Ship — Chapter XVII. Tagal: Loading Sugar — Chapter XVIII. The Dreaded Cholera — Chapter XIX. A Cyclone: Carlo Runs Mad — Chapter XX. Our Arrival In Newcastle — Chapter XXI. Loading Coal: Shipwrecked — Chapter XXII. In An Open Boat — Chapter XXIII. Suffering With Thirst — Chapter XXIV. Picked Up By The Lotus — Chapter XXV. Ugi — Chapter XXVI. An Earthquake: Incidents Of Savage Life — Chapter XXVII. Life At Ugi — Chapter XXVIII. H. M. S. Lark: Our Rescue — Chapter XXIX. Our Life In Sydney — Chapter XXX. The Queen's Birthday — Chapter XXXI. A Floating Palace — Chapter XXXII. A Visit From Neptune: Honolulu — Chapter XXXIII. The Grand Concert: San Francisco — Chapter XXXIV. Home Once More — Chapter XXXV. A Moment Of Peril — Chapter XXXVI. Out From The Old Life Into The New — Chapter XXXVII. How Brown Bess Ate The Pudding — Chapter XXXVIII. A Winter In A Log Camp: Back To Maine.Excerpts:...I was born in the prosperous town of Milbridge, Maine, five miles from the open sea, and to me the dearest place on earth. My father was a sea captain, James Brown by name, who always went on deep sea voyages and who, unlike the majority of captains, was glad to have his family accompany him. I went to sea from earliest infancy, and always enjoyed it. Mother used to say I was more at home on the water than I was on the land....The next morning, upon opening my eyes after a brief sleep, I glanced towards mother's bed. For the first time in ten happy years no answering glance from loving eyes met mine, no gentle voice bade me a cheery good morning. Instead, my eyes fell on that rigid form outlined under the white sheet. Annie was asleep and there was no one in the room. I sprang up, and running across the cabin, threw back the sheet and kissed her pale lips again and again. "Oh! mother, mother darling," I moaned, "come back or take me with you," while burning tears fell on that calm, smiling face. Father heard me and, coming down, took me tenderly in his arms and told me if I would live as mother had taught us, that when we, too, were called, we would meet her in the bright land whither she had gone, where all was peace and rest. No more parting, no more tears, but a glorious reunion. Mother had suffered cruelly, she was now at rest, and Jesus had bade us to "Mourn not for the dead but for the living."...No boat could live an instant in that swirl of angry waters. Our only hope lay in setting every stitch of canvas and driving the vessel off the reef. If this failed we were lost, and we were only five miles from a land peopled with savages far more cruel than the hungry waves.The Publisher has copy-edited this book to improve the formatting, style and accuracy of the text to make it readable. This did not involve changing the substance of the text. Some books, due to age and other factors may contain imperfections. Since there are many books such as this one that are important and beneficial to literary interests, we have made it digitally available and have brought it back into print for the preservation of printed works of the past. Making this copy very readable.