Digressions are bad at the best, and we feel some regret that we should have been compelled tobegin our book with one; but they are necessary evils sometimes, so we must ask our reader'sforgiveness, and beg him, or her, to remember that we are still at the commencement of our story, standing at the end of the pier, and watching the departure of the Pole Star whale-ship, which is nowa scarcely distinguishable speck on the horizon.As it disappeared Buzzby gave a grunt, Fred and Isobel uttered a sigh in unison, and Mrs. ...
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Digressions are bad at the best, and we feel some regret that we should have been compelled tobegin our book with one; but they are necessary evils sometimes, so we must ask our reader'sforgiveness, and beg him, or her, to remember that we are still at the commencement of our story, standing at the end of the pier, and watching the departure of the Pole Star whale-ship, which is nowa scarcely distinguishable speck on the horizon.As it disappeared Buzzby gave a grunt, Fred and Isobel uttered a sigh in unison, and Mrs. Brightresumed the fit of weeping which for some time she had unconsciously suspended."I fear we shall never see him again," sobbed Mrs. Bright, as she took Isobel by the hand andsauntered slowly home, accompanied by Fred and Buzzby, the latter of whom seemed to regardhimself in the light of a shaggy Newfoundland or mastiff, who had been left to protect the family."We are always hearing of whale-ships being lost, and, somehow or other, we never hear of the crewsbeing saved, as one reads of when ships are wrecked in the usual way on the seashore."Isobel squeezed her mother's hand, and looked up in her face with an expression that said plainly,"Don't cry so, mamma; I'm sure he will come back," but she could not find words to express herself, so she glanced towards the mastiff for help.Buzzby felt that it devolved upon him to afford consolation under the circumstances; but Mrs.Bright's mind was of that peculiar stamp which repels advances in the way of consolationunconsciously, and Buzzby was puzzled. He screwed up first the right eye and then the left, andsmote his thigh repeatedly; and assuredly, if contorting his visage could have comforted Mrs. Bright, she would have returned home a happy woman, for he made faces at her violently for full fiveminutes. But it did her no good, perhaps because she didn't see him, her eyes being suffused withtea
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