and on the following day the Flamingo Fire Insurance
Company failed.
CHAPTER II
Let my young readers now sail with me to warmer and more hospitable
climes. Off the coast of Patagonia a long, low, black schooner
proudly rides the seas, that breaks softly upon the vine-clad
shores of that luxuriant land. Who is this that, wrapped in
Persian rugs, and dressed in the most expensive manner, calmly
reclines on the quarter-deck of the schooner, toying lightly ever
and anon with the luscious fruits of the vicinity, held in baskets
of solid gold by Nubian slaves? or at intervals, with daring grace,
guides an ebony velocipede over the polished black walnut decks,
and in and out the intricacies of the rigging. Who is it? well may
be asked. What name is it that blanches with terror the cheeks of
the Patagonian navy? Who but the Pirate Prodigy--the relentless
Boy Scourer of Patagonian seas? Voyagers slowly drifting by the
Silurian beach, coasters along the Devonian shore, still shudder at
the name of Bromley Chitterlings--the Boy Avenger, late of
Hartford, Connecticut.
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