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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 100., Jan. 24, 1891., by Various This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net Title: Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 100., Jan. 24, 1891. Author: Various Release Date: July 10, 2004 [EBook #12872] Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH *** Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI. VOL. 100. January 24, 1891. MR. PUNCH'S PRIZE NOVELS. NO. XII.--THE MATE OF THE MARLINSPIKE. (_BY SHARK MUSSELL; AUTHOR OF "ERECT WITH A STOVE IN HER," "MY GYP MADE TO WHEEZE," "THE ROMANCE OF A PENNY PARLOUR," "A HOOK FOR THE BANNOCK," "FOUND THE GAL ON FIRE," "THE MYSTERY OF THE LOTION JAR," "THE JOKES O' LEAD," &C., &C., &C._) ["Here you are, my hearty," writes the Author, "this is a regular briny ocean story, all storms and thunderclaps and sails and rigging and soaring masts and bellying sails. How about 'avast heaving' and 'shiver my timbers,' and 'son of a sea-cook,' and all that? No, thank you; that kind of thing's played out. MARRYAT was all very well _in his day_, but that day's gone. The public requires stories about merchant ships, and, by Neptune, the public shall have them, with all kinds of hairy villains and tempest-tossed wrecks and human interest and no end of humour, likewise word-pictures of ships and storms. That's me. So clear the decks, and here goes."] CHAPTER I. We were in mid-ocean. Over the vast expanses of the oily sea no ripple was to be seen although Captain BABBIJAM kept his binoculars levelled at the silent horizon for three-quarters of an hour by the saloon clock. Far away in the murky distance of the mysterious empyrean, a single star flashed with a weird brilliance down upon the death-like stillness of the immemorial ocean. Yet the good old _Marlinspike_ was rolling from side to side and rising and falling as if the liquid expanse were stirred by the rush of a tempest instead of lying as motionless as a country congregation during the rector's sermon. Suddenly Captain BABBIJAM closed his b
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