My boatman called my attention to her,
remarking that she was spick-and-span new, and the biggest one he ever
saw, but I took very little notice of the ship until in tacking across
her wake, I noticed her name in gold letters across the stern--'Duncan
McDonald.' Now that is my own name, and was my father's; and try as I
would, I could not account for this name as a coincidence, common as the
name might be in the highlands of the home of my ancestors; and before
the staunch little steamer had gotten a mile away, I ordered the boat to
follow her. I intended to go aboard and learn, if possible, something of
how her name originated.
"As she swung at anchor, off Goat island, I ran my little boat alongside
of her and asked for a rope. 'Rope?' inquired a Yankee sailor, sticking
his nose and a clay pipe overboard; 'might you be wantin' to come
aboard?'
"'Yes, I want to see the captain.'
"'Well, the cap'en's jest gone ashore; his dingy is yonder now, enemost
to the landin'. You come out this evenin'. The cap'en's particular about
strangers, but he's always to home of an evenin'.
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