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Jacobs, W. W., 1863-1943

"Many Cargoes"

The boatswain watched her
uneasily, and taking up the phial carefully read through the directions.
After that he was not at all surprised to see the book fall from his
charge's hand on to the floor, and her eyes close.
"I knowed it," said Tucker, in a profuse perspiration, "I knowed it.
Them blamed gals are all alike. Always knows what's best. Miss Polson!
Miss Polson!"
He shook her roughly, but to no purpose, and then running to the door,
shouted eagerly for Susan. No reply forthcoming he ran to the window,
but there was nobody in sight, and he came back and stood in front of
the girl, wringing his huge hands helplessly. It was a great question
for a poor sailor-man. If he went for the doctor he deserted his post;
if he didn't go his charge might die. He made one more attempt to awaken
her, and, seizing a flower-glass, splashed her freely with cold water.
She did not even wince.
"It's no use fooling with it," murmured Tucker; "I must get the doctor,
that's all."
He quitted the room, and, dashing hastily downstairs, had already opened
the hall door when a thought struck him, and he came back again.
Chrissie was still asleep in the chair, and, with a smile at the clever
way in which he had solved a difficulty, he stooped down, and, raising
her in his strong arms, bore her from the room and downstairs.


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