Admiral Peters

W. Jacobs W.

Description

Though set on dry land, W. W. Jacob's charming tale "Admiral Peters" is shot through with the salty dialect and rough humor of lifelong sailors. An admiral pays a visit to one of his men, now retired, and amidst a night of revelry and nostalgia, an odd love triangle is formed. Will the two former shipmates be able to iron out their differences?

Informations

• Publié par: The Floating Press
• Date de parution: 01 février 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781776532551
• Langue: English

Extrait

ADMIRAL PETERS
* * *
W. W. JACOBS
 
*
Admiral Peters First published in 1909 Epub ISBN 978-1-77653-255-1 Also available: PDF ISBN 978-1-77653-256-8 © 2013 The Floating Press and its licensors. All rights reserved. While every effort has been used to ensure the accuracy and reliability of the information contained in The Floating Press edition of this book, The Floating Press does not assume liability or responsibility for any errors or omissions in this book. The Floating Press does not accept responsibility for loss suffered as a result of reliance upon the accuracy or currency of information contained in this book. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. Many suitcases look alike. Visit www.thefloatingpress.com
Admiral Peters
*
Mr. George Burton, naval pensioner, sat at the door of his lodgingsgazing in placid content at the sea. It was early summer, and the airwas heavy with the scent of flowers; Mr. Burton's pipe was cold andempty, and his pouch upstairs. He shook his head gently as he realisedthis, and, yielding to the drowsy quiet of his surroundings, laid asidethe useless pipe and fell into a doze.
He was awakened half an hour later by the sound of footsteps. A tall,strongly built man was approaching from the direction of the town, andMr. Burton, as he gazed at him sleepily, began to wonder where he hadseen him before. Even when the stranger stopped and stood smiling downat him his memory proved unequal to the occasion, and he sat staring atthe handsome, shaven face, with its little fringe of grey whisker,waiting for enlightenment.
"George, my buck," said the stranger, giving him a hearty slap on theshoulder, "how goes it?" "D— Bless my eyes, I mean," said Mr.Burton, correcting himself, "if it ain't Joe Stiles. I didn't know youwithout your beard."