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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 2, June 1941

Page 13

From The Star Port     SOUTHERN STAR

alarmed crew of sailors, several of whom have been disturbed while doing a spot of laundry work. Four seamen at mess bolt from the table to see what the matter might be. The first mate, busily figuring a budge in his cabin, is delighted at the opportunity to get away from his wrestling with higher finance, and joins th rush to the rail.
"Here, men!" the captain calls. "What's all this shouting about?" He speeds to the rail, grips hard with his hands, peers overside. "Lord lumme!" he gasps. "It's a monstrous whale."
"No whale, no such, sir!" disputes the first officer. "You nor I never saw no whale which was so shiny-like."
"Nor no whale with no head nor blow-hole." snorts a sailor. "But what is it, Cap'n?"
For it took a tremendously different sight than the mere blue sea to get the entire company of the Mary Celeste on deck, and all at a time. The sight, for instance, of something which looked like a whale -- but wasn't. Captain Nemo in fact? Could there have been a submarine back in 1872? A submarine capable of welcoming aboard on a tour of inspection, two score people? Or a submarine with a crew which by threat of arms, captured two score people? And removed the ship's papers and the chronometer for reasons such as this: That the Captain treasured his chronometer above all other things, and asked for it. That to him, also, the ship's papers and his own certificate were things to lay by for future proof of this strange happening?
And then, having by one manner or another have inviegled aboard this unknown NAUTILUS, did the submarine submerge never to rise again -- the unlucky end of an unfortunate test trip? A trip sponsored by scientists, pirates, by whom? Have the records of 1872 ever been searched to determine whether or not any famous inventors or scientists disappeared in that year?
Yes, it took a tremendously different sight than blue waters and ordinary sunlight to bring sailors, captain, and family to the deck of the Mary Celeste, away from their other present duties and tasks and pleasures. It took something fully as marvelous and as unusual as a submarine -- or -- or a seaplane. Something which might have landed on the waves close by the ship -- something, perhaps, from another planet or another universe -- or another dimension. The dimension of the masters.

As long as we're discussing unexplainable adventures, how's this for a ghost story. Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, neurologist, was awakened one winter night by the ringing of his doorbell, and found outside a thinly-clad little girl who asked him to come and see her mother, who was very sick. Dr. Mitchell didn't want to go, but she persuaded him. The mother was in bed with pneumonia, and after Dr. Mitchell had cared for her he told her how smart and persistent her daughter had been.
"But my daughter died a month ago!" exclaimed the sick woman. "Her shoes and shawl are in that cupboard!" The doctor opened the cupboard and found hanging there the exact garments worn by the little girl who had run his doorbell an hour before.

So ghosts don't happen, eh? Yet you will admit it's possible to be the son of a ghost. But will you admit it's possible to be the son of a man ten thousand years a ghost? Well, it is, for science can keep the male cell in a state of suspension for that long, and a man might have a son ten thousand years after the father had attained ghosthood. Of course, a girl would have to be found willing to be the ghost's bride.

Saving...

From The Star Port SOUTHERN STAR alarmed crew of sailors, several of whom have been disturbed while doing a spot of laundry work. Four seamen at mess bolt from the table to see what the matter might be. The first mate, busily figuring a budge in his cabin, is delighted at the opportunity to get away from his wrestling with higher finance, and joins th rush to the rail. "Here, men!" the captain calls. "What's all this shouting about?" He speeds to the rail, grips hard with his hands, peers overside. "Lord lumme!" he gasps. "It's a monstrous whale." "No whale, no such, sir!" disputes the first officer. "You nor I never saw no whale which was so shiny-like." "Nor no whale with no head nor blow-hole." snorts a sailor. "But what is it, Cap'n?" For it took a tremendously different sight than the mere blue sea to get the entire company of the Mary Celeste on deck, and all at a time. The sight, for instance, of something which looked like a whale -- but wasn't. Captain Nemo in fact? Could there have been a submarine back in 1872? A submarine capable of welcoming aboard on a tour of inspection, two score people? Or a submarine with a crew which by threat of arms, captured two score people? And removed the ship's papers and the chronometer for reasons such as this: That the Captain treasured his chronometer above all other things, and asked for it. That to him, also, the ship's papers and his own certificate were things to lay by for future proof of this strange happening? And then, having by one manner or another have inviegled aboard this unknown NAUTILUS, did the submarine submerge never to rise again -- the unlucky end of an unfortunate test trip? A trip sponsored by scientists, pirates, by whom? Have the records of 1872 ever been searched to determine whether or not any famous inventors or scientists disappeared in that year? Yes, it took a tremendously different sight than blue waters and ordinary sunlight to bring sailors, captain, and family to the deck of the Mary Celeste, away from their other present duties and tasks and pleasures. It took something fully as marvelous and as unusual as a submarine -- or -- or a seaplane. Something which might have landed on the waves close by the ship -- something, perhaps, from another planet or another universe -- or another dimension. The dimension of the masters. As long as we're discussing unexplainable adventures, how's this for a ghost story. Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, neurologist, was awakened one winter night by the ringing of his doorbell, and found outside a thinly-clad little girl who asked him to come and see her mother, who was very sick. Dr. Mitchell didn't want to go, but she persuaded him. The mother was in bed with pneumonia, and after Dr. Mitchell had cared for her he told her how smart and persistent her daughter had been. "But my daughter died a month ago!" exclaimed the sick woman. "Her shoes and shawl are in that cupboard!" The doctor opened the cupboard and found hanging there the exact garments worn by the little girl who had run his doorbell an hour before. So ghosts don't happen, eh? Yet you will admit it's possible to be the son of a ghost. But will you admit it's possible to be the son of a man ten thousand years a ghost? Well, it is, for science can keep the male cell in a state of suspension for that long, and a man might have a son ten thousand years after the father had attained ghosthood. Of course, a girl would have to be found willing to be the ghost's bride.