 | The Old Pilot. Saratoga in 1901 |  |
The Old Pilot.
The pilot of the St. John is an
excentric old fellow. He stands
all day long, rain or shine, alone
in the pilot-house. He has no
one to talk to, so he converses
aloud to himself. Sometimes he
stands and talks to himself for
hours. He was talking to himself
last night as I stood by the
pilot-house door. This is the
way he conducted the dialogue:
“Why are you up here in the
mist and rain of this God-forsaken
pilot-house, Billy? You are a
man of enterprise, you can keep
books, you can speculate, you can
run a newspaper, you could be an
Alderman and go to Saratoga.
Then what's the good of standing
here turning this wheel?”
“I will tell you, sir,” he replied, “it is because
you are a fool, Billy, an idiot, and a jackass.”
“But what business is it to you?” continued
Billy. “You come out here into the pilot-house to
brow-beat me do you? Who are you?”
“You are a low-lived, sneaking,
chicken-livered, salaratus-eating
Connecticut Yankee, any way,
and I'm honest, hardworking
William Munson!! D— your
soul, take that!” Then he chuckled
at his joke, and went on turning
his wheel, which, like his dialogue,
went round and round, but finally
stopped at the same place.
LAN—
| The Old Pilot. Saratoga in 1901 | |