{"id":922,"date":"2010-04-30T11:12:12","date_gmt":"2010-04-30T18:12:12","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/?p=922"},"modified":"2012-06-18T12:03:59","modified_gmt":"2012-06-18T12:03:59","slug":"dick-and-i-chapter-7","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/922\/dick-and-i-chapter-7\/","title":{"rendered":"Dick and I, Chapter 7, 19th Century Unpublished Book by S. B. McKenney"},"content":{"rendered":"
\"Dick<\/a>
Dick and I by Samuel Bartow McKenney<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

This manuscript was written before 1881 by Samuel Bartow McKenney. In the transcription I’ve not changed spellings or punctuation unless I absolutely must for coherence. There were no periods in the manuscript and I have added those. My thanks to Allan McKenney for sending this along.<\/em><\/p>\n

Chapter VII<\/strong><\/p>\n

No breath of air to break the wave<\/em>
\nThe Givun<\/p>\n

The sky is changed! and such a change! Uh night
\nAnd storm and darkness ye are wonderous strong<\/em>
\nChilde Harold<\/p>\n

Be Helle’s stream there is a voice of wail
\nAnd womans eye is wet mans cheek is pale<\/em>
\nBride of Abydos<\/p>\n

The huge black cloud had crept further up the horizon and looked
\nblack and threatening. At the time of our departure we had a light
\nbreeze blowing from the north east but by the time we made Hulls
\nCreek the wind failed us altogether. lt was now near five oclock
\nand another hour was consumed in getting through the creek as the
\nboats had to be pushed through with the oars. We found the lower
\nlake as we came out into it to be dead calm and lay stretched out
\nbefore us like a large polished mirror. There was not a mar to its
\nsurface save here and there where some fish would lunge out and
\nmake a circle of tiny waves that would widen and widen until the
\nlittle wavelets would come rippling against the side of our boat
\nas she lay motionless on the silent lake.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow silent and hushed every thing is. How distinctly one can hear
\nthe slightest voice on shore although it is so far off,” said Viva
\nJoice. “I suppose this is the calm that preceeds a storm?” she
\ncontinued turning to Dick.<\/p>\n

“And I fear the storm will be a bad one if we may judge from this
\norninous silence,” he replied.<\/p>\n

“If you will take the tiller a few minutes I will take in the jin
\nand close reef the mainsail and make all things snug and ready for
\nit when it does come,” said I addressing him.<\/p>\n

– 41- <\/p>\n

“Keep your seat,” said he. “and I will be sailor.”<\/p>\n

The sails were soon dexterously trimed and taken
\nin. The halyards belayed again and everything made
\ntight and fast. Fay had also close reefed the sails
\nof the schooner but Adams had made no move toward
\ntrimming his vessel for the coming storme – whatever.<\/p>\n

“What can Adams be doing?” I asked, “that he does
\nnot take in sail?”<\/p>\n

“Whispering nonsense to Miss Mayer,” sugested Viva Joice.<\/p>\n

“Oh dear,” exclaimed Inez B. “I wish Hope had stayed aboard the
\nschooner.”<\/p>\n

“Is she not aboard the schooner,\u201d demanded Dick turning toward her
\nsuddenly.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Miss Hughes offered to take care of Papa and Hope went in Mr
\nAdams boat.”<\/p>\n

I saw Rashboys face was stern and white as he slipped forward and
\nshouted, “Sloop ahoy!”<\/p>\n

“Ahoy yourself,” answered Adams.<\/p>\n

“Why dont you trim your sails man?”<\/p>\n

“We can manage our own affairs.”<\/p>\n

“lt does not look like it,” he muttered to himself then aloud. “The
\nstorm will be upon you in a few minutes I can hear it coming now.”<\/p>\n

“Let it come.”<\/p>\n

“But your boat will not live a minute with all that sail on.”<\/p>\n

“When we need your help or advice we will call on you.”<\/p>\n

Rashboy turned and came back to me. There was an expression on his
\nface that boded no good to Adams if anything should happen to one
\nof his passengers. The schooner lay off to our left about two
\ncables length while Adams boat was twice that distance directly
\nahead of us.<\/p>\n

“There is the first messenger of the coming storm,” said Dick as a
\nlittle black flaw came flurring across the tranquil water causing
\nthe White Witch to careen over and dart through the water like
\nsome nervous fish as it struck her. Presently another struck her
\ncoming from a different quarter causing the sails to jibe
\nviolently.<\/p>\n

“Ladies you and Mr Smythe had better keep down in the bottom of
\nthe boat,” said I as Smythe gory head came near being made more
\ngory than it already was by coming in the way of the jibing boom.<\/p>\n

We could now hear the storm roaring through the tree tops on the
\nshore to our right and as we were heading to the southward we must
\nhave the wind on our beam. It was now about sunset and already
\ndarkness had began to fall over the waters and make objects at any
\ndistance dim and indistinct.<\/p>\n

– 42 –<\/p>\n

“Here it comes,\u201d cried Dick. “Hold her head well up in the wind Con
\nwhen it first strikes you and then you can ease her off
\nafterwards.”<\/p>\n

The lake was literally covered with foam marking the footsteps of
\nthe storm as it came like a race horse toward us.<\/p>\n

Although I held the vessels head well up into the wind as directed
\nby Rashboy yet when the storm struck her it laid her almost on her
\nbeam ends for a moment. She righted however almost the same
\ninstant and when I eased her off on our proper course she almost
\nflew through the water.<\/p>\n

“Splendid!” cried Dick. “Now Con when you see one of those black
\nflaws coming luff her a little and we will be home before the rain
\nreaches us and as soon as the other two boats – My God!” he
\nexclaimed, “where are they? There is the schooner to leeward but
\nwhere is Adams boat?”<\/p>\n

“Gone – to – the – bottom!”<\/p>\n

His breath came hard and his face looked gastly in the gleem of
\nthe lightening then illuminated the sky almost continually. He
\nspring upon the quarter deck and stepped back to where he could
\nlook under the sail to leeward.<\/p>\n

“They have probably capsized,” I replied, “but I do not think the
\nboat would sink as she is made of light pine and carries no
\nballast but her passengers.”<\/p>\n

\u201dHa! There she is now,” as by the red glare of the lightening I saw
\na boat bottom uppermost and the gastly faces of the surviving
\nwretches who clung to her turned to us in a dispairing manner. The
\nflashes of lightening were but momentary and yet by its fitful
\nglare I saw it all. They were close to leeward and so close to us
\nthat I could almost have reached them with an oar. We were about a
\nquarter of a mile to windward of Collage Island about a mile to
\nleeward of the main shore.<\/p>\n

“Here Dick,” I exclaimed, “you can manage the boat better than I.
\nTake the tiller and put her about and let us try to pick up some
\nof them Dick! Dick I say!! Where in the name of God is he!”<\/p>\n

He was gone! I sat slumped and bewildered. Mechanically I put the
\nboat about and ran back.<\/p>\n

“What is it,” exclaimed Inez Blanchard who had crept back to where
\nI was. “Where is Mr Rashboy?”<\/p>\n

“God knows darling!” I broke out. \u201cIn Heaven most likely. He —-,”
\nwhen suddenly recollecting myself. I (—-)<\/p>\n

“He what?” she asked.<\/p>\n

“I do not know. He was here but a moment since and now he is gone
\nwhen or where I can not tell.”<\/p>\n

“Where is the other boat? Where is Hope? Oh I saw it all. The boat
\nhas sunk and he has gone to save Hope,” she cried wringing her
\nhands.<\/p>\n

“Ha! I believe you,” I exclaimed a light suddenly making in on my<\/p>\n

– 43 –<\/p>\n

bemused mind, “only,” I continued, “the other boat is not sunk,\u201d and
\nin a few hurried words I explained to her all that had occured.
\n\u201cAnd now,” I added, “go forward a little and watch for them for we
\nmay pass them and not see them.”<\/p>\n

She had listened to my hurried explanation very calmly and seemed
\nto devine at once the true state of affairs as she stepped forward.
\nShe suddenly exclaimed, \u201cOh there they are right ahead. Oh stop the
\nboat quick or you will overrun them.”<\/p>\n

I threw the helm hard alee and brought the little vessel head up
\ninto the wind almost immediately.<\/p>\n

A moment later I had let go the anchor and belayed the (—-).
\nI then ran about and found that the stern of the vessel almost
\nreached the capsized boat. I knew that she would not drift away
\nfrom us as the sails were downward into the water.<\/p>\n

Miss Meyer Emily Burnette and Harry Barton were taken aboard and
\nthat was all. Barton explained that Miss Blanchard and Adams had
\nbeen washed from the boat by a large wave that broke over them and
\ncarried several rods to leeward by its force. That Adams had went
\nto Miss Blanchards assistance and strove to regain the boat but
\nthat the waves setting against him were too strong and that he had
\nfinally started for the shore which did not look to be over forty
\nrods distant and he contended that was the last that we saw of
\nthem.<\/p>\n

“How long ago was that,” asked Inez.<\/p>\n

“About half an hour I should judge.”<\/p>\n

No one had seen anything of Rashboy. He had probably missed the
\nboat in the darkness and found a grave among the green mosses in
\nthe bottom of the lake he loved so well in his vain efforts to
\nfind the boat.<\/p>\n

“Oh Mr Etheridge,” said Inez. “Let us run into the shore and see if
\nwe can find any trace of them. It is our only hope,” she exclamed
\nas her voice trembled and the tears sprang to her eyes.<\/p>\n

“Let me take the tiller Etheridge I know of a little harbor close
\nby under the shelter of a point where we can land in safety.
\nAlthough I think it is of no use. No mortal man could swim ashore
\nin this rough water alone without being encumbered by a lady,” said
\nBarton.<\/p>\n

I gave him the tiller and weighed the anchor and then seated
\nmyself gloomily in the bow of the vessel.<\/p>\n

The rain now began to fall in torents. I pulled Dick’s waterproof
\ncloak out of the for locker and wrapped it around me and Inez and
\nstrove to comfort her but my own heart was too heavy to make much
\nbut a sorry comforter of me.<\/p>\n

“You are striving to comfort me,” said she laying her hand upon my
\narm, “when you too are suffering.”<\/p>\n

“Trouble and I are old acquaintences,\u201d I replied gloomily, “and it<\/p>\n

– 44 –<\/p>\n

matters little when or where I meet it since its face has become
\nso familier to me.”<\/p>\n

“I fear it is an acquaintance with whom we can all are apt to
\nbecome famalliar before we die,” she replied.<\/p>\n

“I do not see why I am left to drag out and a cheerless and
\ndesolate live alone when those that are more worthy to live and
\nwho have something to live for are taken.”<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd have you nothing to live for?”<\/p>\n

“Life without love is useless as well as desolate. The grave and
\nthe dark waters of this lake have closed over all that ever loved
\nme. It may be my own fault as you remarked today that I have no
\nfriends, but friendship and love mean something with me more than
\na name.”<\/p>\n

“Please do not remember my thoughtless words against you,” she
\nreplied her lips quivering. “I would have given worlds to have
\nrecalled them the next moment after they were spoken.”<\/p>\n

“Forgive me if I have wounded you. My lonliness and misery makes
\nme forgetful of others feelings.”<\/p>\n

“You have trouble enough tonight without me burdening you with my
\nsorrows. Yet let us hope for the best. Here we are,” I added as the
\nboats keel grated on a little strip of beach under shelter of the
\npoint. “Remain here until I return and believe me I shall use
\nevery effort to find our missing friends or some trace of them.<\/p>\n

“I will do just as you say,” she replied giving me her hand, “but
\nplease do not keep me long in suspense.”<\/p>\n

“I will not darling,” I murmered and acting under an irristable
\nimpulse I stooped and kissed the sweet quivering moveable tear
\nstained cheek. The little hand fluttered in mine and I imagined
\ngave a feble pressure before it was withdrawn. “God speed you,” she
\nmurmered.<\/p>\n

A lantern was procured from the boat and Barton and I started in
\nsearch of some trace of the missing. The island on which we landed
\nwas the largest one in the lake it being about tow miles in length
\nand varying in breadth from half a mile down to only a few rods.
\nThe middle where there was a narrow neck of sandy beach on which
\nonly a few stunted willows grew and over which the waves would
\nalmost dash. We had landed on the southern side of the island near
\nthe western end under the shelter of a small point that was
\nheavily timbered. The opposite side of the point from which we
\nlanded formed a part of the western end of the island and the
\nshore on this end was lined with huge bowlders with the exception
\nof a short stretch of beach near the unfortunate boat had been
\ncapsized. We crossed the point and followed along the shore toward
\nthis stretch of beach which was about a quarter of a mile distant.
\nThe wind still blew fiercely although it had abated somewhat of
\nits fury. The branches of the trees swaying and tossing wildly,
\nthe large foam crested waves came thundering in against the
\nbowlders and dashing her cold spray into our faces as we hurred by
\nthe fitful glare of the lantern over the bank into the gloom
\nbeneath. <\/p>\n

– 45 –<\/p>\n

“God pity any that should try to come ashore here,” said Barton.
\n“The water is quite deep close up to the rocks and they would be
\nat the mercy of the waves.”<\/p>\n

We went slowly forward eagerly seeking in every rook and opening
\nbetween the boulders some trace of our missing companions and yet
\nfearing as the flickering light of the lantern at each advancing
\nstep fell upon new objects that it would bring to our view. The
\nmangled and gastly forms of those we sought.<\/p>\n

At length we came to a place where the bank rose, nearly perpendicularly
\nsome thirty feet above the waters. The feble ray of the light we carried
\nwould not penetrate the darkness to that depth and all look black and
\ndismal below us.<\/p>\n

“Let us go back and follow along the ledge of bowlders at the base
\nof the bluff” said my companion. “It is a perilous and dificult
\nundertaking but it is useless to follow along here.”<\/p>\n

\u201cHow far does this bluff extend,” I asked.<\/p>\n

“About tow hundred yards.”<\/p>\n

“And then?”<\/p>\n

“There is a short stretch of beach.”<\/p>\n

We retraced our steps for a few rods and then, by clinging to the
\nvines and bushes we descended to the slippery bowlders below.<\/p>\n

\u201cUgh! This is disagreeable!” I exclaimed as a wave swept, nearly
\nwaist deep, over the rock on which I stood and came near dashing
\nme headlong among the bowlders.<\/p>\n

“Keep as near the bank as possible and hold onto the bushes and
\nvines when you can.”<\/p>\n

The rain had ceased falling and the wind had spent its violence
\nand only came now in fitful sobbing through the treetop, but
\nsounded infinitely more sad and wierd than did the shrieking
\ntempest. The rugged edged clouds went hurrying across the dull sky
\nas if vainly endeavoring to overtake the tempest that had passed
\non. The waves were no longer foam crested and angry but calm, in
\nlarge undulating swell rolling in with sad cadiace as if moaning
\nover the ruin and desolation they had wrought. We were wet and
\ncold and tired as we struggled along over the slippery rocks and
\nmy hands were torn and bleeding by clinging at times to briars and
\nprickley ash to prevent myself from being washed away by the waves.<\/p>\n

We had nearly reached the beach when we came to an old cedar stump
\nthat obstructed our passage. As we clambered around it I caught
\nsight of a dark object a few feet in advance of us that was
\npartially visable above a large bowlder that lay between it and
\nourselves. I felt a chill of horror creeping over me as I laid my
\nhand on my companions arm and pointed toward it. He raised the
\nlantern above his head and pierred at it earnestly.<\/p>\n

“It is a hat,” he said in a low voice, “but -”<\/p>\n

He did not finish the sentence. I read the unexpressed thought in
\nhis face as he turned toward me.<\/p>\n

– 46 –<\/p>\n

“What else lies concealed behind that rock.”<\/p>\n

We moved forward but as the light penetrated the darkness beyond
\nit revealed nothing else save a long narrow strip of yellow sand.
\nI picked up the hat. It was Rashboys. It had been asure some time
\nfor it lay back out of reach of the waves now and had been washed
\nthere when the wave ran the highest. But where was he the noble
\nimpulsive Rashboy who had ever been willing to risk his life in
\nbehalf of others? Where was the generous friend whom I had
\nlearned to love how dearly I never knew until (—-) Alas could
\nnone but the sobbing moaning waves tell? Had they sent me this
\ntoken to show me know that they had robbed me of the dearest
\nfriend I ever knew. I was recalled to myself by an exclaimation
\nfrom Barton. He had picked up a knot of blue ribbons that I
\nrecognized as belonging to Hope Blanchard. And that was all
\nalthough we searched for many yards above the beach, with the
\nexception of some loose boards and seats out of the wrecked vessel.<\/p>\n

“lt is as I feared,” said Barton. “They have all perished.”<\/p>\n

“And yet they were so near shore.”<\/p>\n

“Not so near as you might suppose,” he replied. “The distance from
\nshore is very deceptive at night. lt always seems much nearer than
\nwhat it really is.”<\/p>\n

“And how far was it then.”<\/p>\n

“A quarter of a mile at least I should judge. Possibly further.”<\/p>\n

\u201cLet us return. It is useless to remain her any longer.”<\/p>\n

“True,” he answered, “and yet I dread going back to Miss Blanchard
\nwith such sad news.”<\/p>\n

“It is not much worse than the suspense she now endures.”<\/p>\n

Silently and gloomily we took our way back through the forest. The
\nclouds were beginning to break away and occasionally a silver star
\nwould peep at us between the masses of dark cloud that were now
\nmoving majesticaly away to the eastward. Presently the rising moon
\nbroke out with a flood of soft light that transformed the
\npendulous rain drops on the leaves and branches into millions of
\nsparkling gems that fell around us in showers as we brushed
\nagainst the bushes for here in this thick wood the fiercest
\ntempest could not penetrate to shake them from their emerald
\nsettings. A few minutes silent walk brought us to where our little
\nvessel lay moored. The moon shown out as we approached and Inez
\nadvanced to meet us. Barton passed on not wishing to be the one to
\nbreak the sad news and Inez said nothing but turned her dark
\nquestioning eyes on me. I laid the little knot of ribbon in her
\nhand and said as she glanced toward the hat l carried. “Its Dicks –
\nwe found them together.”<\/p>\n

“Oh poor Hope! Poor Papa,” she sobbed. “I know it will kill him,” and
\nshe sank down on an old wave worn cedar and wept convulsively.
\nMy own heart was too full for me to strive to comfort her and
\nbeside what could I say? What words of mine call back the lost
\nsister from her endless rest among the masses of the deep. where
\nshe had been silently locked by the waters flow to that deep cold<\/p>\n

– 47 –<\/p>\n

sleep that knows no waking, what words of mine compensate her for
\nsuch a loss.<\/p>\n

Mrs McDonald came and sat down beside her and stroked the silken
\nhair as she pulled her bowed head on her own motherly bosom but
\nsaid nothing.<\/p>\n

By the time we had removed the water that had been dashed in by
\nthe spray and rain from the vessel and were ready to start lnez
\nhad recovered from her (process?) of weeping and was comparatively
\ncalm. She went forward as we got underway and seated herself in
\nthe bow and sat with her head resting on her hand looking into the
\nwater. Barton took the tiller and I went forward and seated myself
\nbeside her. I took her disengaged hand in mine and sat silent
\ngazing forward on the rippling waves as the little vessel sped on
\nits homeward way. There is a kind of subtle companionship with
\nsome whom we meet in this world that needs not the use of words to
\nmake itself understood or felt. The very presence of some seem to
\nexert a more kindly influence on the stricken or lonely heart than
\ndo the most eloquent words or impassioned tones of others although
\nwe may know that they are sincere in their protestations of regard
\nand sympathy. And as I sat by the beautiful girl at my side and
\nfelt that my feelings were rightly understood and sympathized with
\nalthough I spoke no word I felt that sense of loneliness and
\nmelancholy which had oppressed me at the rememberance of the loss
\nof my friend wear away and of greater content supplant it.<\/p>\n

As we neared the village we saw lights moving near the pier and we
\ncould also distinguish a number of people hurrying about. I ran a
\nlight up to the masthead and in a few minutes a voice hailed us.<\/p>\n

“Boat ahoy!”<\/p>\n

“Ahoy yourself,” answered Barton.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat boat is that?”<\/p>\n

“The Water witch.”<\/p>\n

I heard a murmer of voices when Barton told the name of the boat
\namong which I could distinguish an occasional word as “saved thank
\nGod” “Wait and see” and so on and shortly after I heard Fay call
\nout “Steer for the light. It is on the pier. You had better land
\non the east side of the pier; the schooner is on the west side.” As
\nwe approched the pier I saw it was crowded with people men women
\nand children. Many pale anxious faces peered at us through the
\ngloom vainly trying to penetrate the darkness with their straining
\neyes and learn at once the fate of loved ones. I distinguished Mr
\nBlanchard among the others, his grey hair fluttering in the night
\nwind. His face was pale, almost ghastly in its hue. He shaded his
\neyes with a hand that trembled visably and looked eagerly into the
\nlittle vessel as it rounded to at the end of the pier. I saw him
\nstart violently as he caught sight of his daughter Inez and a
\nmoment after he sprung aboard and folded her in his arms. I left
\nfather and daughter alone and stepped on the pier and explained to
\nthe people all that I knew of the wrecked boat and of those that
\nwere missing. The schooner had arrived safely with all on board.
\nThey had not seen the other boat when it capsized in fact they
\ncould not spare time to look for either of the two boats until it
\nwas too dark to destinguish them. They had gathered at the pier<\/p>\n

– 48 –<\/p>\n

for the purpose of embarking in the schooner and going in search
\nof us when they saw our light and heard us. They resolved however
\nafter our return to postpone their search after the others until
\nmorning and each accordingly sought his home in order to gain some
\nneeded repose before day light. It was past midnight when I seated
\nmyself in the Water Witch and turned her head homeward. A soft
\nfresh breeze was blowing from the westward and the little vessel
\nsped merrilly along as if glad to get home after so fatiguing a
\nday. The points and headlands were all wrapped in silence as I
\nnoislessly passed them, even the insects had ceased their chirping
\nand had sought a couch and repose on the sheltered side of some
\nfriendly leaf. The distant hooting of an owl on a far away
\nheadland and the wild scream of a loon as he beat the water into
\nfoam with his wings in a vain effort to rise into the lighter
\nelement were the only sounds that betokened aught of (—-) in
\nthe world. At length the white chalk-like bank of Spirit Knob
\ncame in sight and seemed to grow larger and more distinct to the
\nview as I neared it until I could distinguish the cedars growing
\non it and hear the splash of the waves on the rocky shore. I ran
\nmy boat round to the eastern and sheltered side of the point and
\nmoved it to the pier. As I stepped asore it seemed an age since I
\nhad left there in the morning with Rashboy. I felt as though half
\nthe incidents of a lifetime had been cramed into that one day. I
\nentered my silent chamber and the air seemed close and stifling. I
\nthrew open a window and the cool breeze felt grateful on my
\nburning throbbing head. “I fear I am going to be sick,” I mentioned
\nas I hastely changed my still damp clothing for dry and swallowing
\nan annodyne I threw myself upon my bed and tried to sleep. The
\nslightest noise, the gnawing of a mouse or the rustle of the maple
\nleaves against the window startled me as though a trumpet rang and
\nsent the blood in a cold stream to my heart. Presently as the drug
\nbegan to exert an influence over me the rustling of the leaves
\nbecame the whispering of people whom, did I but close my eyes for
\na moment, I could see bending over the dark waters of the lake and
\npeering down into its silent depths at some object there that lay
\nupon the bottom and swayed backwards and forwards with every
\nmotion of the water. If the wind sighed more heavily round the
\ngables I imagined it sounded like the struggles and gasps of the
\ndrowning. Ever and anon I thought Adams followed by Mrs Whipple
\nwould come to my bedside and the green moss and slime of the lake
\nstill clinging to him and in a hoars whisper ask why I had let him
\ndrown. And then I thought that they would both fall upon me with a
\nsort of padded bludgeon that they carried gave back no sound and
\nbeat me across the forehead in such a manner that it seemed as if
\neach successive blow would mash my head. At length I could endure
\nit no longer and I sprang up and went to my medicine case and
\nswallowed a large portion of a powerful sedation.<\/p>\n

I laid down upon the bed and almost immediately fell into a
\nslumber that was deep tranquil and dreamless.<\/p>\n

(End 1st Book)<\/p>\n

Go to Table of Contents for “Dick and I”<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

This manuscript was written before 1881 by Samuel Bartow McKenney. In the transcription I’ve not changed spellings or punctuation unless I absolutely must for coherence. There were no periods in the manuscript and I have added those. My thanks to Allan McKenney for sending this along. Chapter VII No breath of air to break the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":8359,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[12,1],"tags":[192,686],"class_list":["post-922","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-mckenney-family","category-uncategorized","tag-dick-and-i","tag-samuel-bartow-mckenney"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/922","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=922"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/922\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8359"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=922"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=922"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/evermore.imagedjinn.com\/blg\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=922"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}