Beadle's Dime Novels No. 94: The Mad Skipper — page 43: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

smiled upon the lone ship, and the spray of the upheaving seas were often frozen to,ice upon the shrouds, Perched upon ~ the curling crests of the waves, large flocks of albatrosses were now frequently seen, watehing with kingly majesty the great, yellow hull of the vessel as it boomed along with creaking masts and yards. There is something singularly grand and imposing in the appearance of these enormous white birds, with their proudly arched mecks and cali, piercing eyes. When caught, as they often are, by means of a hook and line, and transferred to a ship's deck, from which they are unable to rise by their own efforts, they show no signs of fear or tre- pidation, but with an air of dignified contempt, unflinchingly return the gaze of their captors. Perhaps the crew of the Monongahela might have amused themselves, occasionally, by catching one or two of the feath- ered monsters, had not the boisterous state of the weather, and the drenching seas breaking over the forward rails, prompted every man—when on deck and not occupied in working the ship—to seek the shelter of the round-house. Here, the islanders would form a group by themselves on one side of the wheel, while Ben Williams, Frank Harland and Joe Plaush took a position on the other. Notwithstanding the orders of the mate, they would doubt- less have sought and found an opportunity to “thrash ” a few of their late antagonists, had not the fair Lilian, who had heard an account of the affray, previously described, persuaded them to ‘ keep the peace,” while aboard the ship. “The New-Zealanders outnumber you,two to one,” she had said, “and if you succeed in punishing those who were immediately concerned in assaulting you, you will certainly be murdered afterward, by the rest. They may, in fact, extend their revenge so far as to murder every white man in the ship—my father and all.” Stationed under the .round-house, as mentioned, the three friends would often hear,on stormy nights, the sweet voice of the young girl rising from the cabin, while she sung and played on her guitar, the airs that her father loved. There was some- thing singularly bewitching-in this music heard in conjunction With the howling ef:the wind in the rigging and the crashing of the sana as they broke over the vessel. Frank would comichbooks.com