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THE FATAL GIFT
S
EVERAL
years ago I had occasion to voyage in a sailing ves–
sel to France. I was accompanied by my two daughters. I
had provided ourselves with a bottle of the best cognac
brandy in the expectation that it could be used-as my friends
informed me-as a quieting medicine in case of seasickness.
Prior to our retirement for the night we each took a small
glass; and as the captain of the vessel, a Frenchman, happened
to be below just then, he was asked to have a little. He tossed
off the liquor with evident relish, smacked his lips, and bidding
us "adieu" for the night, went on deck.
We had not rested more than a few hours ere we were
awakened by the tramping of feet and a confused noise of voices.
I hastened on deck. The night was cloudy; the seamen were
shouting to each other and hurrying to and fro.
"What is the matter'?" I enquired, "Where is your captain'?"
Judge of my horror and regret, when I learned that he had
been set on to drink by the brandy I had given him, had got
intoxicated, and in that shocking state had fallen overboard.
He was never seen again.
The Faggot,
i876.
The Morning Glory
One part
S~otch
whiskey,
The white of an egg,
.The juice of half a lemon,
A
teaspo~nful
of sugar.
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