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Optic, Oliver, 1822-1897

"Stand By The Union"


The lieutenant stood up in his place, and could just distinguish the
Bronx, a mile and a half distant, in the gloom of the early morning. He
watched her a few minutes and soon saw her swing around, and head to the
south-east.
"Make the course about south, Vincent," said the officer, as soon as he
discovered that the steamer was in motion.
"South, sir," replied the quartermaster.
"Now, give way with a will, my men!" called Mr. Pennant in brisk tones,
"for we shall soon have a twenty-four pound shot chasing us out."
When the cutter was about half a mile from the shore, making it about
three-quarters of a mile from the fort, the peal of a cannon was heard,
and a puff of smoke could be seen as it rose on the clear, starred sky,
for the clouds had rolled away during the night. The shot dropped into
the water a short distance abreast of the cutter.
"Good!" exclaimed Mr. Pennant; and this was the first time he had ever
been under fire, though he had imagined it enough to feel entirely at
home.
Another shot followed the first, and dropped into the water; and if it
had gone fifty feet farther, it would have struck the boat.
"Good again!" exclaimed the lieutenant. "I think that is about the range
of those guns."
A third shot fell a little nearer the cutter; but it was evident enough
that it was out of the reach of the feeble guns of the fort.


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