Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. John Frewen, South Sea Whaler by George Lewis Becke (great books of all time .txt) 📖
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Solomon Islands was of course abandoned. Old Manning and his stalwart sons came off to say goodbye, and at Mrs. Marston's earnest request the trader consented to accept from her some hundreds of pounds' worth of trade goods from the well-filled storeroom of the _Esmeralda_.
"Goodbye, Mrs. Marston, and God bless you and the little one, and give you all a safe passage to Samoa," he cried, as he descended the side into his boat.
For many hours she remained on deck watching the green little island as it sunk astern, and thinking of the kindly-hearted old trader who had so cheered her by his simple piety and unobtrusive goodness. Then her thoughts turned joyfully to home--for the Raymonds' house was home to her--and she sighed contentedly as the gallant _Esmeralda_, with every stitch of canvas that could be set, slipped gracefully over the blue Pacific on an east-south-east course, for it was the month of November, and light westerly winds had set in.
Two weeks on such a happy ship soon passed away, and then early one morning the grey dome of Mount Tofua stood out from the mantle of mist which hid its verdant sides; and ere the sun had dried the heavy night dews on the gaily-coloured crotons and waving pampas grass which grew just above the beach, the brave ship dropped anchor once more in Samatau Bay amidst a scene of the wildest confusion. For Raymond, as he had stood on the verandah with his wife, watching her sailing in, and wondering what had brought back Frewen so soon, saw this signal flying from her spanker gaff.
O
W
S
V
B
R
C
"What does it mean, Tom?" "Found. All well!" he shouted, and pitching his telescope clean over the tops of the wild orange-tree in front of the house, he rushed down to the beach, crying out the news as he ran.
Boats, canoes, and _taumualuas_ by the score, all crowded with natives, who were shouting themselves hoarse, paddled furiously off to the ship; and ere her cable rattled through the hawse-pipe and the heavy anchor plunged down to its coral bed, her decks were filled with people, and Raymond, followed by the old chief Malie, was shaking hands warmly with "the missing princess" and her rescuer.
*****
It is night at Samatau, and the two ladies are sitting on the verandah. The house is very quiet.
"Amy?"
"Yes, Marie, dear."
"Tom was asking me this morning if you have yet made up your mind to go on building that house."
"Oh, dear, Marie. I have hardly given it a thought since I came back--and I've only been back a week!"
"Amy?"
"Marie?"
"I suppose, dear, that Captain Frewen won't give up the _Esmeralda_ altogether when he goes to America to see his people. He will come back, will he not?"
Mrs. Marston blushed. "I--I think so, dear. Come inside, and I'll tell you."
THE END
Imprint
"Goodbye, Mrs. Marston, and God bless you and the little one, and give you all a safe passage to Samoa," he cried, as he descended the side into his boat.
For many hours she remained on deck watching the green little island as it sunk astern, and thinking of the kindly-hearted old trader who had so cheered her by his simple piety and unobtrusive goodness. Then her thoughts turned joyfully to home--for the Raymonds' house was home to her--and she sighed contentedly as the gallant _Esmeralda_, with every stitch of canvas that could be set, slipped gracefully over the blue Pacific on an east-south-east course, for it was the month of November, and light westerly winds had set in.
Two weeks on such a happy ship soon passed away, and then early one morning the grey dome of Mount Tofua stood out from the mantle of mist which hid its verdant sides; and ere the sun had dried the heavy night dews on the gaily-coloured crotons and waving pampas grass which grew just above the beach, the brave ship dropped anchor once more in Samatau Bay amidst a scene of the wildest confusion. For Raymond, as he had stood on the verandah with his wife, watching her sailing in, and wondering what had brought back Frewen so soon, saw this signal flying from her spanker gaff.
O
W
S
V
B
R
C
"What does it mean, Tom?" "Found. All well!" he shouted, and pitching his telescope clean over the tops of the wild orange-tree in front of the house, he rushed down to the beach, crying out the news as he ran.
Boats, canoes, and _taumualuas_ by the score, all crowded with natives, who were shouting themselves hoarse, paddled furiously off to the ship; and ere her cable rattled through the hawse-pipe and the heavy anchor plunged down to its coral bed, her decks were filled with people, and Raymond, followed by the old chief Malie, was shaking hands warmly with "the missing princess" and her rescuer.
*****
It is night at Samatau, and the two ladies are sitting on the verandah. The house is very quiet.
"Amy?"
"Yes, Marie, dear."
"Tom was asking me this morning if you have yet made up your mind to go on building that house."
"Oh, dear, Marie. I have hardly given it a thought since I came back--and I've only been back a week!"
"Amy?"
"Marie?"
"I suppose, dear, that Captain Frewen won't give up the _Esmeralda_ altogether when he goes to America to see his people. He will come back, will he not?"
Mrs. Marston blushed. "I--I think so, dear. Come inside, and I'll tell you."
THE END
Imprint
Publication Date: 08-11-2010
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