[A Ball Player’s Career by Adrian C. Anson]@TWC D-Link book
A Ball Player’s Career

CHAPTER XXV
2/9

Fred Pfeffer was right at home, however, and as a result he managed to get the best there was going, the waiters evidently mistaking him for nothing less than a German Count, judging from the alacrity with which they flew about to execute his orders.

We had been out but a few short hours before we began to miss Frank Lincoln, whose never-failing fund of humor had helped to while away many an hour and who had bid us farewell at Melbourne, having decided to remain for some little time in Australia.

Among our fellow-passengers in the cabin were a couple of civil engineers from England, who had been making a tour of Australia, and very pleasant companions they proved to be; a Melbourne lady who was taking her two little daughters to Germany to be educated; and last but not least in his own estimation, if not in that of others, a Mr.
Theophilus Green, a loud-mouthed, bald-headed, red-faced and portly gentleman of middle age, who, according to his own story, was possessed of unlimited funds, a desire to travel, and an inclination to pass himself off wherever he might happen to be as a representative American, God save the mark! Mr.Green journeyed with our party as far as Suez, and when he left us the long-drawn sigh of relief that went up from all hands was like unto the rushing sound that is caused by the passage of a hurricane over the surface of the waters.
Among the second cabin passengers were two stalwart Australians who were bound for Zanzibar, Africa, and who meant to penetrate into the interior of that wild country in search of big game.

They were well equipped with firearms, of the most improved designs, and unlimited quantities of ammunition, and had the appearance of men who were perfectly capable of taking care of themselves in any country, no odds how wild and uncivilized it might be.

They accompanied us as far as Aden, where they left us, taking with them our best wishes for their success and safe return.
The second night after leaving Port Melbourne we stopped at Port Adelaide, a little seaport seven miles distant from Adelaide, where we remained until two o'clock the next afternoon to take on a cargo of Australian wool.


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