e you, indulgent readers and comrades, that no
matter what he had done, or what mistakes he had made, his memory will
always find a warm spot in the heart of that little Drummer Boy from
Maine.
One day, soon after this I sauntered down to the steamboat landing and was
leisurly beguiling my time with a very large cigar. I noticed some
commotion in the harbor but paid more attention to the cigar than anything
else. Finally a large ocean steamer came in sight, rounded up near the
wharf and let go her anchor. Very soon a "cutter" was lowered manned with
sailors and pulled with steady stroke toward the wharf. While watching and
wondering what they were going to do with the soldiers which I saw the
vessel was loaded with, the "gig" or "cutter" neared the wharf, then I
noticed particularly the young officer who sat in the stern, he was very
dictatorial and pompous in his orders to the sailors, so much so that I
said to myself, that fellow is putting on lots of airs; he thinks he's
some pumpkins, I wish he'd fall overboard.
They finally reached the foot of the stairs, which led to the wharf. The
young officer espied me and standing up in the boat shading his eyes with
his hand seemed carefully contemplating me. I wondered if it could be
possible that he had defined my wish and would have me arrested when he
landed; perhaps it was the cigar that attracted his attention. It was
against orders to smoke on the wharf, and such a big cigar in a boy's
mouth looked very much out of place, but I wasn't going to give it up, and
puffed more vigorously than ever. Just then the "cutter" touched the
stairs that led up to the wharf with a bump, and the young officer with
his handsome uniform turned a back-summersault overboard. It tickled me to
death; I sat down and laughed to see him floundering to reach the stairs.
I clapped my hands and cried, "Good, good!" He finally reached the stairs,
clambered up onto them, but they being very slippery from the slime left
by the ebbing tide, he lost his footing, his heels went into the air, and
down again headfirst he went into the ocean. I think he went clear to the
bottom, for when he came up he was covered over with sea grass and mud. I
laughed harder than before; everybody laughed, even the sailors, they
couldn't help it, and when they fished him out he was a sight! The starch
was out of his clothes, but not his pomposity. He roundly blamed the poor
sailors. I sang out: "It wasn't their fault; wh
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