TRAGEDY OF " DENNIS " 



was a comfort that evening ; our course was due north. 

 During the first watch I had passed the mate once or 

 twice, but he seemed preoccupied and waved me aside, 

 as if he was working out some abstruse mathematical 

 problem. Suddenly he stopped in front of me ; 

 looked round to see if there could be anyone to hear 

 us, then pulling my ear down to his mouth whispered : 

 " We're going to kill Dennis to-morrow ! " and then 

 hauled off to note my surprise and delight. I had to 

 say " how splendid ! " a dozen times before turning 

 in. There was a loin of fresh pork on the table the 

 next day. The mate was the first at the table, but I 

 wasn't slow either; and what a treat ! The trotters 

 and kidneys were kept as a luxury for my wife and 

 eldest son — who is well known in Press circles, 

 especially on cricket grounds and at billiard matches — 

 and another loin was put aside for next day. The rest 

 went into a harness cask to pickle, and then was going 

 to be smoked, to last a few weeks. But alas for that 

 wonderful forecast of the weather! The breeze fell 

 away till there was hardly steerage way, the sun shone 

 down hotter than ever. The remains of " Denis " 

 in the cask began to niff a bit, and the sharks had a 

 good feed. 



Poor Knowles, the mate, was lost a year or two after 

 in going off in a boat to pick up a man overboard, and 

 the ship was wrecked a few years later off Queensland. 



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