Part 1 (1/2)
Little By Little.
by William Taylor Adams.
PREFACE
In presenting to his young friends the sixth volume of the ”Library for Young People,” the author cannot be unconscious of what the readers of his former books require of him. They will turn the leaves of ”Little by Little,” expecting to find an abundance of stirring incidents; and he hopes they will not be disappointed. Some of the older readers and sterner critics will look for romantic and rather exaggerated events; but he thinks they will look in vain, for as we grow older we become more reasonable, and do not expect showers of gold to fall upon every seedy hero, or to see nice young gentlemen leap over lofty precipices without sometimes being dashed to pieces.
But the author hopes that something more than exciting incidents will be found upon his pages; that, though he has seldom, if ever, gone out of his way to define the moral quality, or measure the moral quant.i.ty, of the words and deeds of his characters, the story will not be found wanting in a true Christian spirit.
Paul Duncan, the hero of this volume, is a nautical young gentleman, and most of the events of the story occur upon the water; but the author hopes his young lady friends will not make faces at him on this account. The boys insisted upon having a sea story, and being the ”lords of creation,” of course they must be indulged; but the writer most solemnly promises to remember the girls next time.
Thanking my young friends again for the continued kindness manifested towards my pets, I give them ”Little by Little,” hoping that the excellent spirit of Paul Duncan will pervade their minds and hearts, and lead them forward to the material and moral triumphs which crowned his useful life.
WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
DORCHESTER, August 28, 1860.
CHAPTER I.
PAUL DUNCAN DISOBEYS ORDERS.
”I'll give you a quarter, Paul, if you will take me down to the Point in your boat,” said Thomas Nettle, as he came down to the beach where the boy addressed was baling out an old dingy-looking boat.
”It blows too hard,” replied Paul Duncan.
”The club went down in their boat.”
”But it didn't blow so hard then as it does now. It's a regular sou'easter.”
”What are you afraid of, Paul?”
”I'm not afraid; but there's no use of risking your life for a quarter.”
”I'll give you a half, then.”
Paul Duncan hesitated. Half a dollar was a great deal of money to him, and more than often found its way into his exchequer. He glanced at the white-capped waves in the bay, and then at Thomas.
”There's no ballast in her,” said he.
”Put some rocks in, then.”
”I think it's rather dangerous, and I don't believe your mother would agree to have you go out in a boat in such a blow as this.”
”My mother! Humph! Let me tell you I'm not tied to my mother's ap.r.o.n string. I think I'm old enough to have a will of my own. Don't talk to me about my mother,” replied Thomas contemptuously. ”I'm not a baby.”
”Just as you please; but I think it blows too hard to go out.”
”Let me have your boat, and I'll go alone then, if you are afraid to go.”