A "TAIL" OF THE SEA.

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume XVI, Issue 46, 23 February 1881, Page 4

A "TAIL" OF THE SEA.

(N.Z. Times, Feb. 14) There was sudden commotion aboard the fast'and favorite s.s. Napier shortly after she left Blenheim for this port yesterday. She was gently steaming down the river, past the mud fiats and the flax bushes, the gallant skipper on the bridge, a trusty A.B. at the . helm, the decks thronged with passengers, the vessel gliding Bmoothly with the current, when all at once ahe began to yaw and veer about in most eccentric fashion, showing a decided inclination to run her nose into the bank, f 1 Port your helm," roared the nautical : Fisk. " Port it is, sir," replied the man at the wheel, " Least ways as much as I can get her." " What d'ye mean ? God bless you. Starboard ! back! her ! stop her ! Holy snakes ! we're going ashore!" "She won't answer, sir," cried the frantic helmsman. " Something's jammed — the chains are foul." And still the s.s. Napier yawed, and let the current run away with her p until Captain JFisk thought his vessel bewitched. What was the matter with her ? What devilment was in the vessel? None could tell ; passengers and ; crew alike were perplexed ; all save one, a siDgularly mild and inoffensive looking individual, who, squatted on the deck, sat preternaturally still awaiting with stoical indifference the issue of events. Suddenly the vigilant skipper eyed him, and one glance revealed the mystery. To the amazement of the passengers, the skipper made a dart for the galley, came up a moment after armed with a meat chopper, seized the inoffensivelooking passenger by the scruff ot the i

neck) and heeling him over, amid the shrieks of the frightened females and the hurried protestations of the male passengers, aimed a desperate blow at his coat tails, and not one alone, but another and another, until the affrighted passenger, suddenly uprising, scudded, at high-pressure speed, for the saloon, and there, perturbed and seated',, sat himself dofrn where, the StJlmin ishment of his wardrobe frould be least opser.Vcd. Explanation quickly followed ; the tail of his coat had got foul of the; rudder ehaios, and the constant jerking of the latter had wound up, the broad clothj inch by inch, until the wearer ; of the garment could neither get himself free from the chains or free himfcelf from J his garm'enfck (through the activity ot j the crewi it should be said, the,; Vessel J was kept from going ashore, arid soon ; the order '• Full steam ahead," i calmed I all Fears for her safety.. The tale of j the severed coat tail would be fccarce complete unless we mention the name of the chW nero of the adventura. It was Mr. Kirby, agent for Mr. and Mrs. Hart, of " Happy Hours" fame, and who was returning with the company after a most. successful season at Blenheim 1 . Mr Hart, has possession of the dismembered broadcloth, and also of the identical cleaver so deftly jtrielded by the gallant skipper, and has j serious thoughts of dramatising the episode as a new feature in the " Happy Hours'* entertainment, Under the title of " The whisks and Oaks of a coat tale* or a hap-py hour on board the Nap^i-er."