Two Dianas in Alaska - Tapa blanda

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1909 edition. Excerpt: ...fallen. I had felt it would. How can one hope to rear a bear cub on a sealing schooner with a crew constantly offering the animal rations, ranging from inadequately cooked beans to drinks of hot, greasy cocoa? The pretty little cub! I would he were still a creature of the boundless wild, I would But Tom began, with the fell ghoulishness of the lower orders, to describe the manner of the end. This was too much. If he liked to harrow his own feelings why try to harrow mine? When we jump a stiff fence we sometimes land on a harrow, but there's no earthly need to put one there. On deck the crew were wrangling as to which of their number killed the little bear with o'er much kindness. The cook accused a shrinking youth, a French Canadian, who seemed so likely to be blamed for the disaster, as he had not sufficient go about him to repudiate all connection with it, that Cecily and I felt we must to his rescue, albeit we were biassed. Women are very seldom impartial; their sympathies go out, rightly or wrongly, to the weaker and losing side; their desire is always to "assist the dog that is under," and have nothing to do with the cynical advice of the philosopher who advocated the system of taking the part of "the man with the largest club." Cecily suggested that very likely the chef himself had overdone his attentions a little, a flank movement which diverted things, and left the cook stranded in a backwater of unspoken annoyance. I was glad that Cecily got in so telling a shot, for the cook paid no attention to any one save himself and his own creature comforts. In some men, as they grow older, the milk of human kindness dries up. They have no sympathy. Ralph came upon the scene, and smoothed and soft-soaped the crew and glossed...