Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"Are you not afraid to take the command of a ship, sir?" enquired Miss Acton, who continued to peer at Mr Lawrence over her glasses. He squared his shoulders and held out his hand. The pointer came down with all the strength that the man dared put behind it. Johnston peered closely into the boy's face. It was white and quivering but it still wore a smile. The small amount of work in the shape of discharging and receiving cargo which was being done on the wharves of Old Harbour, had come to a pause when the labourers' dinner-hour struck, and but three or four figures were visible upon the tar-black platforms along which the little ships were moored. Of these one was a brig and the other a schooner, and one was the Minorca, a handsome coppered barque of five hundred tons built by the French, and, as we have heard, taken from that people..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
🃏 Discover the Ultimate Rummy Experience at Rummy A1! Play like a champion with our wide range of card games, including Indian Rummy and thrilling variations. Join the elite league of players and showcase your skills today! 🏆I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
🌟 Discover the Magic of lucky 100 rummy!
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"Oh, nuthin', only she happened to find a pipe in one of the pockets, that's all." "I believe you, Mrs. Keeler," nodded her friend. "Now then, where have you two drowned rats been tonight, Willium?" Maurice looked up at her with tear-filled eyes, and tried to say something. The effort was vain; not a sound issued from his swollen lips. Billy promptly advanced to give first aid. He ran out of the cabin. The Admiral pillowed his son's head with his arm, and gazed at the marble-still features. Never could any man appear more stricken, though 'tis hard to tell by posture or by expression of face the depth of human sorrow, the pang of the wound that death alone can heal. His only son—whom he had cursed for his wickedness—whose professional life, extinguished by an act of drunken madness, had swelled the eyes of the father with the unshed tears of the spirit of[Pg 439] a man—lying dead or dying on his arm—self-slain!.
298 people found this
review helpful