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Oxenham, John, 1852-1941

"A Maid of the Silver Sea"

For he was practically at sea on a rock; in the midst of the
turmoil, yet absolutely unaffected by it.
On shipboard, thought of one's ship and possible consequences had always
interfered with fullest enjoyment of Nature's paroxysms. It was
impossible to detach one's thoughts completely and view matters entirely
from the outside. But here--he was sure his rock had suffered many an
equal torment--there was nothing to come between him and the elemental
frenzy. Nothing but--as the days of it ran on--a growing solicitude as
to what he was going to live on if it continued much longer.
Never was Sark rabbit so completely demolished as was that one that
Nance had cooked and sent him. Before he had done with it he cracked the
very bones he had thrown away, for the sake of what was in them, and
finally chewed the softer parts of the bones themselves to cheat himself
into the belief that he was eating.
That was after he had devoured every crumb of his bread, and finished
his three fishes to the extreme points of their tails.
He was, I said, in the very midst of the turmoil yet unaffected by it.


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