Under Rocking Skies by L Frank Tooker | PDF

Under Rocking Skies
By 
L. Frank Tooker

FOR a quarter of an hour Thomas Medbury had been standing at the east window of  his  mother's  parlor ,  gazing  out  across  his  neighbor's  yard  with  an  eager intentness  that  betrayed  a  surprising  absorption  in  a  landscape  without  striking features  and  wholly  lacking  in  any  human  interest.  The  low-studded  room  in which  he  stood  was  closely  shut  and  darkened,  having  about  it  the  musty  smell peculiar  to  old  houses.  There  were  sea-fans  before  the  fireplace,  flanked  on  each side by  olished conch-shells. On the wall hung an oil-painting of the brig North Star,  with  all  sail  set,  and  at  her  foretruck  a  white  burgee,  with  her  name  in  red letters,  standing  straight  out  in  half  a  gale  of  wind.  Family  portraits  in  oval  gilt frames  were  ranged  with  mathematical  precision  along  the  remaining  wallspaces,  and  on  the  mantelpiece  stood  a  curious  collection  of  objects  brought from  far  lands—carved  ivories  and  strange  ware  from  China,  peculiar  shells,  a Japanese  short  sword,  and  a  South  Pacific  war-club.  No  one  would  have  needed to be told that it was the home of a sailor . Indeed,  a  keen  observer  might  have  guessed  it  from  the  young  man  himself.  He was  tall  and  broad-shouldered,  and  bronzed  to  the  color  of  overripe  wheat.  His eyes  had  the  steady ,  far-seeing  look  of  the  seaman,  but  were  not  yet  marked about by the crow's-feet that the glare of the sun on the sea brings early in life. It was,  moreover ,  a  strong  face,  straightforward  and  pleasant,  and  irradiated  by  an almost boyish eagerness. Suddenly he leaned forward with quickened interest as the door of his neighbor's house  opened,  and  there  stepped  forth  a  short,  stout  man  of  sixty ,  who  stood  a moment  for  a  last  word  and  then  hurried  down  the  boxwood-lined  path.  He,  too,
was clearly a sailor: he walked with his feet far apart, like a man so habituated to the  rolling  deck  that  it  seemed  a  waste  of  time  and  energy  to  alter  his  gait  on  the rare  occasions  when  he  trod  the  firm  ground.  Medbury  perceived  that  his  face wore a look of placid satisfaction, and with the tightening of the lines of his own to an unspoken resolution, he hurried through the house and across the yard, and, vaulting the low dividing fence, approached his neighbor's back door . He  lifted  the  latch  without  knocking,  and  at  once  came  face  to  face  with  a  weteyed  young  woman  standing  at  a  table  and  listlessly  cutting  out  sugar-cookies with  a  tin  mold.  A   child  of  four ,  leaning  against  her ,  reached  eagerly  for  the cutter , and a boy of ten sat near the stove, softly crying.
 
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