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TTEARST’S SUNDAY AMERICAN, ATLANTA, OA., SUNDAY, DECEMBER 7, 1913.
Jack London's ‘Sea Gangsters’ in Hearst’s Magazine
J ACK LONDON'S "Sen OangM^r.*
a thrilling modern story of love*,
mutiny and fat* aboard the good
ship Flslnorr, reaches some peculiar
ly stirring passages In the current
De pmbtr number of HUAH8T*8
MAGAZJN& Properly to understaiyl
tb«> exuurptii that follow and that
represent Mr. London nf hie best, a
brief synopsis of what l»a< gone lie-
fore is nete sary.
Out from ) jltlir.ore, down across
•he Four Hens swings the good ship
LUlnore, under canvas, with u “bug*
houa crew, and one woman, and one
passenger who was trying t > get aw/iy
from it all including woman. Four
l*«r, fllttd
In the "1<1 to be taken oft to the
ship four hours he shivered and
waited w ith Wadn. his Japanese valet,
c\ivy’m: (’aptaln West. Finally the
t o and took him off; and then
I’.Uhuist almost . hanged his mind.
No women along.' lie had demand •
* und here whs one. It was Mur-
»■;i ’•»•!, Captain West’s daughter. Bhe,
in fact, it wo who had changed her
mind and, incidentally had mode
}' thurst wait four hours in the cold.
He was debating: go ashore or stick
It out?
•Slav." she said, and he did. For
m >» wmk quite sure she knew how to
entertain herself, and that he needn't
bother about her.
So far, so good, but there was the
. rew; in all the world there never
w hs a w orse one. Every last mother’s
son had something wrong with him.
-Heirs broth, itself,” muttered Mr.
Pike-, the man-driving old first mate;
and Mr. Mellalre. th« second mete,
agreed “and, not sn able seaman
among them;” but the mates were
• ure they could knock it into them.
And they proceeded to do it, literal
ly. Right then and there a little
mutiny started, but Pike Jumped in
and let fly with both fists, and the
mutiny ended flat on Its back on
the deck. “Who’s the old stiff?” says
Pike. “Me,” moans Larry, while
Pat hurst turns to look over the ship
(The following remarkable excepts
from Jack London’s “The 8ea Gang
sters,” are reprinted from the currant
December number of HEAR8TS
HEARST’S MAGAZINE.)
• • •
I LEA NEI) against the rail in the
lee of the wheelhouse and stared
up at the lofty spars and my
riad ropes that I could guess were
there No, 1 decided: I was not keen
on the voyage. The whole atmos
phere of it was wrong. There were
the cold hours I had waited on the
pier-ends. There was .Miss West
coming along. There was the crow
of broken men and lunatics. I won
dered if the wounded Greek in the
inidshlphouse still gibbered, and if
Mr. Pike hud yet sewed him up; and
I was quite sure T would not care
to witness such a transaction In sur
gery.
Even Wada, who had never been In
a sailing ship, had his doubts of the
voyage Bo did the steward, who hail
spent most of a lifetime in sailing
ships. Bo far as Captain West was
concerned, crews did not exist. And
as for Miss West, she was so abom
inably robust that she could not be
anything else than an optimist in
such matters. She had always lived;
.her red blood sang to her only that
|she would always live and that noth
ing evil could ever happen to her
■glorious personality.
f Oh, trust me, I knew the way of red
f blood Such was rny condition, that
the red-blood health of Miss West
was virtually an affront to me—for I
knew how unthinking and immod-
(•iuio Mich blood could be. And for
five months at least—there was Mr.
Pike’s offered wager of a pound of
tobacco or a month's wages to that
offset 1 whs to be pent up on the
true ship with her Ah sure as cos
mic Kip was cosmic sap, Just that
sure was 1 that ere the voyage was
over I should be pestered by her
making love to me. Please do not
mistake me. My certainty in this
matter was due, not to any exalted
m
. ’ Y
wv
"Oh. I had no Ultufana) Mian West was one of the love-seekers, obseo.
sorj and possessor!, fragile and fierce, soft and venomous, prouder
than Lucifer and as prideless. Hadn’t I met, and fled from, her
kind before now?”
One of Anton Otto Plsoher’e Charming Illustrations for "The Sea
Gangstere” In HEARST’S MAGAZINE.
sense of my own desirableness to
women, but to my anything but ex
alted concept of women as instinct
ive huntresses of men. In my ex
perience, women hunted men with
quite the same blind hunger that
marks the pursuit of the sun by the
sunflower, the pursuit of attachable
surfaces by the tendrils of the grape-
vino.
• •***•
A woman! Women! Heaven knows
I had been sufficiently tormented by
their persecutions to know them. I
leave it to you: thirty years of age,
not entirely unhandsome, an intel
lectual and artistic place in the world
and an Income most dazzling—why
shouldn’t women pursue me? They
would have pursued me had I been a
hunchback for the sake of my artis
tic place alone, for the sake of my
Income alone.
Yes; and love! Did I not know
love—lyric, passionate, mad, roman
tic love? That, too, was of old-time
with me. I. too, had throbbed and
sung and sobbed and sighed—yes,
and known grief, and burled my dead.
But it was so long ago. How young
I was—turned 24! And after that I
had learned the bitter lesson that
even deathless grief may die; and 1
had laughed again and done my
share of philandering with the pret
ty, ferocious moths that fluttered
around the light of my fortune and
artistry, and after that, in turn, 1
had retired disgusted from the lists
of woman, and gone on long lance-
breaking adventures in the realm of
mind. And here I was, on board the
Elsinore, unhorsed by my encounters
with the problems of the ultimate,
carried off the Held with a broken
pate.
As I leaned against the rail, dis
missing premonitions of disaster, I
could not help thinking of Miss
West below, bustling and humming
as she made her little nest. And
from her my thought drifted on to
the everlasting mystery of women.
Yes, I, with all the futuristic con
tempt for woman, am ever caught up
afresh by the mystery of woman.
Oh, no illusions, thank you. Worn-
BOOK REVIEWS
By JUNE TREMONT
“The Spider's Web.”
Reginald Wright Kauffman in “The
Spider's Web,’* published by Moffat,
Yard & Co., tells an interesting, albeit
a tragic, story of New York life.
The tale is one which gives you an
uncomfortable sensation now and
then, because it deals with things the
“System” will do to gain its ends. A
young lawyer starts to vanquish the
"Money Power” via pollotlcs and the
District Attorney’s office, only to
find himself balked at every point by
the Invisible ruler of Manhattan. He
even discovers that the reform poli
ticians are shams when the political
screw's are applied to them. And
the worst part of it all is that Mr.
Kaifffman writes in the convincing
way of a man who knows whereof
he speaks It’s surely a book for
the American who thinks.
“The Cur and the Coyote.”
“The Cur and the Coyote,” by Ed
ward Peple. is a homeopathic tale of
life in the cow country, which is pub
lished by Moffat, Yard & So. Dog
nature and w isdom are laid bare in a
manner that carries a lesson to the
human animals of the plains.
“Memoirs of Mimosa.”
‘'Mimosa” is an English girl of mid
dle-class parentage who has but one
ambition—that to run the whole ga
mut of human emotions. In the end
she falls. That Is, she fails to try
murder, arson and highway robbery
among the disreputable things, and
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falls to try decency for any length of
time.
Her ambition is to record her sen
sations at each new experience as
faithfully as a weather bureau ther
mometer scrawls Its record of tem
peratures on its unwinding scroll. The
result, is startling.
“Damaged Goods” has for excuse a
serious mission. This book has not.
Anne Rlliot is the author. The pub
lishers are Moffat, Yard & Co.
“The Facts About Shakespeare.”
Shakespeare, to all but the stu
dent*, is a shadowy personage. The
average man has heard and read so
much of the controversy that has
raged that he does not realize how
imposing is the array of well-authen
ticated, undisputed facts about the
poet.
William Allan Neilson, professor of
English at Harvard, and Ashley Hor
ace Thorndyke, professor of English
:it Columbia, have compiled these
facts and have made them interest
ing.
Reading this volume, Shakespeare
becomes a real person. This is, in
me, a valuable reference work and a
book which the man who must be en
tertained need not shun,
i Shakespeare's life, the books be
read, how he got rich, who were his
friends; his London, the Elizabethan
■ i\ arytl lug, it seena,
which helps visualize Shakespeare,
he man and author, is presented in
the volume, published by The Mac
Millan Company, price 60 cents net.
“Grandmother Stories.”
“Grandmother Stories" is the name
of a beautiful story book by How
ard Merriweather Lovett, which has
Just been issued from the A. B. Cald
well Press In Atlanta. The stories, as
the title suggests, are from the “Land
of the Used-To-Be,” and are told
fresh from the quaint old lady’s own
experience, whose old-fashioned por
trait adorns the front page.
“Grandmother Stories” include a
number of hitherto untold stories
of the past when the South was owned
by chevaliers and slaveholders, and
there was romance and heroism
among the women, as well as the
men. The book includes stories of
the American Revolution, of the war
between the States, and of old plan
tation days, when the negro was the
trusted friend to his master.
“Grandmother Stories” is bound in
blue and white, and is illustrated with
copies of original old paintings. The
book is suitable for both mature and
immature minds, and includes many
points of valuable history,
“The Eternal Masculine.”
“The Eternal Masculine,” by Mary
Raymond Shipman Andrews, -which
is published by Charles Scribner’s
Sons, is a collection of short stories
which is sure to delight the heart of
the out-of-doors.man. The tales are
woven principally about fishing and
hunting incidents, the setting for
them being easily recognized as true
by the sportsman who has roamed
a bit in Canadian wilds. A vein
which extends through the whole
work discloses the fact that the au
thor firmly believes that man are
but boys grown taller, for she makes
middle-aged characters frolic with all
of the abandon of their younger
brothers.
By EDWIN MARKHAM
“The Unafraid.”
Where have we read of a plot simi-
tr to that on which "The Unafraid”
s built? It reminds one of the mo-
ive that actuated the brother of Mar-
lal Tavannes, in a certain historical
imance. But. after all. since there is
othing new, it all depends on the
reatment.
The heroine of "The Unafraid,” by
Eleanor Ingram (J. B. Lipplncott Co.,
1.26), is a sweet young lady, with
le euphonious name Delight \Var-
en, engaged to marry the brother of
Balkan noble.
Lieutenant Balslc, being unable to
one to the mountain, in the form of
Miss Warren, she goes to Mahomet,
o* rather, starts to go. When she gets
• the stepping-off place she is kid
naped and taken to the home of
tefan, the hated brother, and there
mpriBoncd, for fear her marriage
vill furnish funds for the lieutenant’s
npatriotic project.
Lieutenant Ualsic is not the type of
! in, the love-seeker, obsessing and
: -ssesHing, fragile und fierce, soft and
venomous, prouder thaq Lucifer and
s prideless, holds a perpetual, almost
morbid, attraction for the thinker,
j What is this flume of her, blazing
through all her contradictions and 5tf-
i nobilities? This, ruthless passion for
i life, always for life, more life on the
i planet? At times it seems to me bra-
; /*n, and awful, and soulless. At t1m*s
! I am swayed by the sublimity of it.
j No; there is no escape from woman,
j Always as a savage returns to a dark
i glen where goblins are and gods may j
he, so do I return to the contempla
tion of woman.
• * * * •
On the High 9eas.
We had put the pilot off at midday,
but the Britannia towed us wall into
the afternoon and did not cast us off
until the ocean was wide about us
and the land a faint blur on the west
ern horizon. Here, at the moment of
leaving the tug, we made our “de
parture”—that is to say, technically
began the voyage, despite the fact
that w’e had already traveled a full 24
hours away from Baltimore.
It was about the time of casting off,
when I was leaning on the poop-rail
gazing forward, when Miss West
joined me.
Mr. Pike Joined us. for a moment
ceasing from his everlasting pacing
up and down, to lean with us on the
poop-rail.
Many of the crew were in evidence,
nulling on ropes on the main deck be
low us. To my inexperienced eye
they appeared more unprepossessing
than ever.
“A pretty scraggly crew, Mr. Pike,”
Miss West remarked.
“The worst ever.” he growled, “and
I’ve seen some pretty bad ones. We’re
teachin’ them the ropes Just now—
most of ’em.”
“They look starved,” I commented
“They are; they almost always are,”
Miss West answered, and her eyes
roved over them in the same apprais
ing, cattle-buyer’s fashion I had
marked in Mr. Pike. “But they’ll fat
up with regular hours, no whisky, and
solid food—won’t they, Mr Pike?”
“Oh, sure. They always do. And
you’ll see them liven up when we get
’em in hand—maybe. They're a
measly lot, though.”
I looked aloft at the vast towers of
canvas. Our four masts seemed to
have flowered into all the sails possi
ble, yet the sailors beneath us, un
der Mr. Mellaire’s direction, were set
ting triangular sails, like jibs, be
tween the masts, and there were ho
many that they overlapped one an
other. The slowness and clumsiness
with which the men handled these
small sails led me to ask. "But what
would you do, Mr. Pike, with a green
crew r like this if you were caught
right now in a storm with all this
canvas spread?”
He shrugged his shoulders, as if 1
had asked what he would do in an
earthquake with two rows of New
York skyscrapers falling on his head
from both sides of a street.
"Do?” Miss West answered for him.
“We’d get the sail off Oh, it can be
done, Mr. Pathurst, with any kind of
a crew. If it couldn’t, I should have
been drowned long ago.”
“Sure,” Mr. Pike upheld her. “So
would I.”
“The officers can perform miracles
with the most worthless sailors, in a
pinch,” Miss West tvent on.
Again Mr. Pike nodded his head
and agreed, and I noted his two big
paws, relaxed the moment before and
drooping over the rail, quite uncon
sciously tensed and folded themselves
Into fists. Also, I noted fresh abra
sions on the knuckles. Miss West
laughed heartily, as from some recol
lection.
“I remember one time when w f e
sailed from San Francisco with a
most hopeless crew. It was in the
Lallah Rookh—you remember her, Mr.
Tike?”
“Your father’s fifth comffiand," he
nodded. “Lost on the West Coast
afterward—went ashore in that big
earthquake an-.; tidal wave. Parted
her anchors, and when she hit under
the cliff the cliff fell on her.”
"That’s the ship. Well, our crew
seemed mostly cowboys and brick
layers und tramps, und more tramps
than anything else. Where the board
ing house masters got them was be
yond irmjgirh r A number of th»-m j
were shanghaied, that was certain :
You should have seen them when they j
v ere first sent aloft.” Again she j
laughed. “It was belter than circus
clowns. And scarcely had the tug
cast us off, outside the Hoads, w’hen
it began to blow up. and we began to
shorten down. And then our mates
performed miracles. You remember
Mr. Harding Silas Harding?”
“Don’t I though!” Mr. Pike pro
claimed, enthusiastically. "He was
some man, and he must have been
an old man even then.”
"He was, arfd a terrible man,” she
concurred, and added, almost reverent,
ly, "and a w'onderful man.” She
turned her face to me. “He was our
mite. The men were seasick and
miserable and green But Mr. Hard
ing got the sail off the Lallah Rookh
just the same, What I wanted to tell
you was this: I was on the poop, just
like I am now’, and Mr. Harding had
a lot of those miserable sick men
putting gaskets on the main-lower-
topsail—how far would that be above
the deck, Mr. Pike?”
"Let me see. c * * the Lallah
Rookh.” Mr. Pike paused to consider.
“Oh, say around a hundred feet.”
"I saw it myself. One of the green
hands, a tramp, and he must already
have got a taste of Mr. Harding, fed
off the lower-top-sail-yard. I was
only a little girl, but it looked like
certain death, for he was falling from
the weather side of the yard straight
down on deck, But he fell into the
belly of the mainsail, and landed on
his feet on deck and unhurt. And he
landed right alongside of Mr. Hard
ing. facing him. I don’t know which
was the more astonished, but I think
Mr. Harding was, for he stood there
petrified. He had expected the min
to be killed. Not so the man. He
took one look at Mr. Harding, then
made a wild jump for the rigging and
climbed right back up to that top
sail-yard.”
Miss West and the mate laughed so
heartily that they scarcely heard me
say. "Astonishing! Think of the Jur
to the man’s nerves, falling to appar
ent death that way.”
"He’d been Jarred harder by Silas
Harding. I guess,” was Mr. Pike’s re
mark, with another burst of laughter,
in which Miss West Joined.
Something went wrong with the
men below us on the deck, some stu
pidity or blunder that was made
aware to ns by Mellaire’s raised voire.
Like Mr, Pike, he had a way of snarl
ing at the sailors that was distinctly
unpleasant to the ear.
On the faces of several of the sail
ors bruises were in evidence. One, in
particular, had an eye so swollen that
it was closed,
“Looks as if he had run against a
stanchion in the dark.” I observed.
Most eloquent, and most uncon
scious, was the quick flash of Miss
West’s eyes to Mr. Pike’s big paws,
with freshly abraded knuckles, rest
ing on the rail. It was a stab of hurt
to me. She knew.
(The complete installment of this
most fascinating story from which
these excerpts have been taken will
be found in full in the current De
cember number of Hearst’s Maga
zine.)
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person who would care to have his
sister marry, but naturally Delight
is prejudiced.
Stefan molests her in no way, and.
as the story unfolds, she becomes
aware that he is really a man. Also,
circumstances force the realization
upon her that her sweetheart is rather
a poor apology for one.
There are plenty of thrilling epi
sodes, and, in the end. Delight falls
into the arms of Stefan.
A New Reference Book.
The Scientific American’s 1914 Ref
erence Book, just out (Munn & Co., I
$1.50). Is a Golconda of information.
It contains 6<>8 pages and 1,000 illus
trations. Moreover, it has been re- l
vised and is replete with the latest i ,
statistics on the latest activities.
The Assistant Director of the Cen- j
sus commends it, and so will every- j
one else who wants the fullest data !
In the smallest space. Attractive i
reading adds t6 its value, | v
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OF THE GAME
HITS.
Singles, two-baggers, three-base
hits and home runs are all provided
for. Ju3t as in the regular game,
three-base hits are scarcer than two-
baggers, and home runs are not at all
common. Frequently a game is
played with very little hitting, the
batters going out “one, two, three.”
SCORING.
Indicators are provided to register
the runs and hits of the visiting team.
Indicators for strikes, balls and outs
also are provided and also an in
nings indicator for each team. Run
ners on bases are also shown and the
team at bat is not overlooked. All
these devices are self-contained and
neither pencil nor paper is required
to score the game.
HEARST’S
Sunday American and Atlanta Georgian
SOME FEATURES
BALLS.
A batter may “get on” by draw
ing four balls. Some of the provi
sions in connection with a “ball”
cover a “wild pitch and passed
ball;” runner out attempting to steal
second; rnnner safe stealing second
or third.
STRIKES.
A strike either may be called or a
fouL In conjunction with a strike, a
runner may be enabled to steal home
or be put out in the effort to steal
third.
OUTS.
Put-outs are indicated, such as
“third to first;” “fly to center;”
“double play, second to first,” etc.
A groan or a cheer, according to
one's sympathies, often accompanies
a double play with one out
Atlanta, Ga.
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