Uncle William

Jennette Lee
Uncle William

The Project Gutenberg Etext of Uncle William, by Jennette Lee
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Title: Uncle William
Author: Jennette Lee
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
Release Date: November, 2003 [Etext #4634] [Yes, we are more than
one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on February 20,
2002]
The Project Gutenberg Etext of Uncle William, by Jennette Lee
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UNCLE WILLIAM THE MAN WHO WAS SHIF'LESS
BY

JENNETTE LEE

TO GERALD STANLEY LEE
"Let him sing to me Who sees the watching of the stars above the day,
Who hears the singing of the sunrise On its way Through all the night.
* * * * *
Let him sing to me Who is the sky-voice, the thunder-lover, Who hears
above the winds' fast flying shrouds The drifted darkness, the heavenly
strife, The singing on the sunny sides of all the clouds Of his own life."

UNCLE WILLIAM

I
"Yes, I'm shif'less. I'm gen'ally considered shif'less," said William
Benslow. He spoke in a tone of satisfaction, and hitched his trousers
skilfully into place by their one suspender.
His companion shifted his easel a little, squinting across the harbor at
the changing light. There was a mysterious green in the water that he
failed to find in his color-box.
William Benslow watched him patiently. "Kind o' ticklish business,
ain't it?" he said.
The artist admitted that it was.
"I reckon I wouldn't ever 'a' done for a painter," said the old man,
readjusting his legs. "It's settin'-work, and that's good; but you have to
keep at it steady-like--keep a-daubin' and a-scrapin' and a- daubin' and
a-scrapin', day in and day out. I shouldn't like it. Sailin' 's more in my

line," he added, scanning the horizon. "You have to step lively when
you do step, but there's plenty of off times when you can set and look
and the boat just goes skimmin' along all o' herself, with the water and
the sky all round you. I've been thankful a good many times the Lord
saw fit to make a sailor of me."
The artist glanced a little quizzically at the tumble-down house on the
cliff above them and then at the old boat, with its tattered maroon sail,
anchored below. "There's not much money in it?" he suggested.
"Money? Dunno's there is," returned the other. "You don't reely need
money if you're a sailor."
"No, I suppose not--no more than an artist."
"Don't you need money, either?" The old man spoke with cordial
interest.
"Well, occasionally--not much. I have to buy canvas now and then, and
colors--"
The old man nodded. "Same as me. Canvas costs a little, and color. I
dye mine in magenta. You get it cheap in the bulk--"
The artist laughed out. "All right, Uncle William, all right," he said.
"You teach me to trust in the
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