Story of Chester Lawrence

ping umbrellas, waving and shouting farewells to their friends on board. The departing passengers, most

the vessel as the propeller began to move, and soon there was a strip of water between the pier and the ship. Then a tiny tug-boat came alongside, fastened itself to the steamer, and with calm assurance, guided its big

. Not a soul in that mass of humanity on the pier, not one in the big city, knew Chester Lawrence or had a thought for him. No one cared whether his voyage would be pleasant or otherwise. There were no tears for him, or fe

time. He had seen that his grips had been safely stowed away in his state room, so he had no worries, as others seemed to have, regarding his belongings. The ship hands (sailors they cannot now be called) were busy clearing th

intense moment facing the west, then turned to go down into his room. The rain must at last have reached him

our pardon,"

idding farewell to the Land of Joseph, a

he Land of Joseph. He was a pleasant-looking man, with hair and beard tinged with gray, clear blue eyes, a firm mouth, about w

were you loo

t possible. He colored a trifle, but there w

arther than the Alleghany mountains; in fact, it extende

n. "Let's shake hands upon it. My name

is Geor

George

lder going on a missi

ht there wasn't a soul on board this vessel that I

two more missionaries on board. Not a large par

ly-made friends went down. Chester met the other elders who were younger men, one destined for Scandinavia, the other for the Netherlands. It did

able as his friends. At his right was a chatty old gentleman and at his left a demure lady who ate in silence. Strangeness, however, is soon worn off when a com

d watched the night settle on the water, and enclose the ship in its folds. They talked of the strange new experience on ship-board, then they told somewhat of

marked Elder Malby, "and escaped the sickn

no respecter of persons, times, or so-called preventatives. The weak

d went below, and to bed. Chester and Elder Malby displayed splendid sea-legs, so they walked until they we

ut about Europe," he continued as if he did not then wish to speak of his Western experiences, "you know, one must have seen somewhat of the Old World to have the proper 'culture,'-must have seen Europe's pictures, old castles, and historic places. I know little and care less about the culture, but I have always h

be seen that Chester was helped in this opportunity to talk to a friend that could understand and be trusted. They sat late that night. The sea roared about them in the darkness. There wa

r. He got up and dressed. It was good to think he would not be sick. Very few were stirring. A number who were, like himself, immune, were briskly pacing the deck. Chester joined them and looked about. This surely must be a storm, thought he. He had often wished to witnes

aid Chester to a m

, sir; just a

all, which conclusion was right, as he had later to acknowledge. The sun came up through a wild sea into a wild sky, casting patches of shift

he others?"

tomorrow. I see you are all right. You'

er of these failed, some leaving quietly and deliberately, others rushing away in unceremonial haste. Chester was quite alone on his side of the table. If there had been a trifle of "sinking emptiness" in him before,

er and Elder Malby looked out on the sublime spectacle. Like great, green, white-crested hills, the waves raced along the vast expanse. Towards the afternoon the ship and th

d carried their feather-tipped heads ever so stately. Now, alas, how had the mighty leveler laid them low! They did not now care how their gowns fitted, or whether their hats were on straight. Any common person, not afflicted with sea-sickness, could have cri

y tough," rem

ubject of sea-sickness," said his companion;

those ladies?

ot now, for any suggestion or proffer of help. If you should be so foolish as to ask them what yo

be wise," s

friends kept up well. They ate the evening

of the night is impenetrable, save as the lights from the ship gleam for an instant into the moving mass of water. Now and then a wave, rearing its crested head higher than the rest, breaks in spray upon the deck.

ntle rocking of the ship and the occasional splashing of water against its sides, we can easily imagine that we are a thousand miles from the sea. Passengers sit at the long tables, reading or chatting. Other groups are playing cards or

om, where a few yet sat with pipes and beer, playing cards. Among them were two men, fat-cheeked, smoothly shaven, who were dressed in priestly garb. There was an expressive American in the company

usand miles of scouring waves, i

r aspect of the wonderful sea, and Chester lingered to get its full beauty. The steamer rolled heavily between the big waves. The young man le

class passengers. He walked along to where he could look down on the forward main deck. A number

e matter?"

Someone overb

er drew near enough not to be in the way, but so that he could observe what was going on. By leaning well over the rail, he could see what appeared to be two persons clinging to the ancho

n the anchor tried to obey. He moved as if cautiously and slowly. "Hurry, my man!" But there was no haste. Limbs and fingers made stiff by long exposure and cramped position, clinging desperately to prevent himself and his burden from falling into the sea

e ship cut into a big wave, whose crest touched the man below. He grasped wildly for the rope, missed it, and fell wit

ce, the ship would have gone right on-Why should a world be stopped in its even course to save one soul?-but too many had seen this. Signal bells were rung, the engines slowed down, and then stopped. Lights flashe

of the man could be found. The small boat was raised to the

re been sent back to his native land, Ireland. He was known as Mike, what else, no one could tell. And the woman? Poor girl, she had wandered in her night dress to the ship's side, and in some unknown way had gotten

gers, having been awakened by the stopping of the ship, were up, hurriedly dressed

matter?" ask

lied the other. "Come into the sa

the conclusion of his story he bowed his face into his hands f

bad, too bad," s

u thin

a terrible thing

who had failed to land. He had no doubt thought to make fame and fortune in the new world. Now he has gone to a new world inde

oul, nothing that others can do, matters much; a man's own actions is what counts. Neither does it matter much when or how a man leaves

e rooms that night, the older man said to the other, "I guess you're