Daily Short Stories - Children's Stories

The Pirate's Pocket Book

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Duration:: 14m
Broadcast on:: 02 Jul 2024
Audio Format:: mp3

It's time for today's Lucky Land horoscope with Victoria Cash. Life's gotten mundane, so shake up the daily routine and be adventurous with a trip to Lucky Land. You know what they say. Your chance to win starts with a spin, so go to luckylandslots.com to play over 100 social casino style games for free for your chance to redeem some serious prizes. Get lucky today at luckylandslots.com. No purchase necessary, BGW Group, void were prohibited by law, 18 plus, terms of condition supply. Welcome to Solgad Media, where your journey into a world of endless audio possibilities begins. Imagine a place where you can discover thousands of captivating audio books, immerse yourself in tranquil sounds for sleep and meditation, and explore timeless stories and lectures that expand your mind and enrich your soul. At SolgadMedia.com, we believe in the power of stories to transform lives. Whether you're a lifelong learner, a parent seeking bedtime stories for your children, or someone looking to unwind after a long day, we have something just for you. We invite you to try Solgad Media free for one month. Explore our extensive collection and find the perfect audio content that resonates with you. Join our community of passionate listeners and unlock a world of knowledge, relaxation, and inspiration. Visit SolgadMedia.com today and start your free trial. That's S-O-L-G-O-O-D-M-E-D-I-A. Dot com. The Pirates Pocket Book by Dionne Clayton-Kalthrop This book you hold in your hand belonged once to a very celebrated pirate. He was so celebrated that the newspapers of that time always said nice things about him and always knew what he was doing before he did himself. As he was a very truthful man, he did the things so that the editors might not get into trouble, which was kind, by which I do not mean that he was always kind. Nobody knew how old he was. Some said that he was so old that he had never been born. Some said that he must be young, or he could not be so wicked. So you see, there were two opinions about him. There are always two opinions about a celebrated man. If you look at him, you will see that he dressed to please himself. He wore a nice hat, but you have noticed that, and he had a roving eye. By which I do not mean his eye walked about, like this, but that he looked around him a good deal. If you are thinking of becoming a pirate and there is plenty of room at the top of every profession, you will have to look about a good deal because you will have enemies. Tom Toome, that was not his name, but it was the way he signed other people's checks. And your father and mother will tell you that this is a very mean trick. Lift partly on an island, and partly on board the inky murk. You will understand that I mean not with one foot on the island and one on the boat, but sometimes on one and sometimes on the other. Now TT never robbed the poor, because it was not worth his while. But any person who looked rich suffered accordingly. The inky murk was the name of his boat. You can make one curiously like it with two chairs and a rug. One day, Toome captured a young fellow, a very handsome lad too. It was off a certain island where Tom Toome had a neat cottage in the garden of which he grew flowers for a pastime. Because, of course, he needed a little time to himself in between his tremendous fights. The young fellow was stealing flowers. He was surprised to see Captain Toome. When I say he was surprised, you will see what I mean by this picture. What cinder a dust mat do you mean? Yelled Toome, in a voice like a railway accident, by stealing my flowers. I thought they were wild, so the young fellow, taking his pipe from his mouth. Wild, shrieked Toome. Wild, he bald. This last yell was so powerful that three of his buttons flew off his coat. The young fellow caught them neatly in his hand and presented them to the captain on bended knee. The neat act saved the lad's life. "In honor to serve you, Captain Thomas Toome," he said. "You know me?" asked Toome, smiling upon the boy. "I thought it must be your face," said the lad boldly. He was about to speak again, had not Toome silenced him with a gesture. He liked the lad. Had he spoken again, Toome would have silenced him forever. He was about to say that any other man with a face like that would have died long ago from wounded vanity. "Would you care to be a pirate, my youthful fellow?" said Toome. The lad hesitated. "My father," he began. "Dead," said Toome, in a hollow voice. "My mother." "Dead," Toome replied, in a monotonous whisper. "My brother and sister," Toome raised a sorrowful hand. His heart was touched. "My family," said the young man in despair. "My poor boy," said Toome with tears in his eyes. "My poor dear fellow, I killed them all not an hour ago!" "Then my sweetheart would object to my becoming a pirate," said the lad, weepingly. "Enough," said Toome. "You are called from Henchforth, dingy David, now to see!" For ten years they plundered upon the Spanish mane until they acquired so much money that the village island, Toome's business address, smelt of hoarded gold and the beach glittered with jewels. Then both Toome and David, I am keeping the secret of his real name to the end, became tired of so much adventure. They had sailed in many seas, the Spanish mane, commonly known as the dining room carpet waters, the kitchen archipelago, the drawing room in linsey, the creek of conservatory, and the lake of passages. They had roamed the wilderness of the high street, the terrors of the gardens they knew, and the gulf of front hall with common water. So they retired for a breathing space and a wash to that island where the neat cottage stood and the geraniums grew. They moored the inky merc to a low-growing pom-pom tree, and then, stepping carefully, like those unaccustomed to dry land, or wetland either, for the matter of that, they gazed upon each other in silence. No one, not even the most careful observer would have recognized in the two dusty figures, the once spruce forms of Captain Thomas Toome and dingy David. "Home," said the young fellow, throwing a diamond at a wave crest. When I say diamond, they were always finding them in the corners of their pockets. "Home, once more." "Cinderella dust mat," exclaimed Toome. "Let me hear you. Oh, let me hear you say that word again." "Home," said the young fellow, gazing at the ripe acapillies hanging overhead. Mastering his ill-concealed emotion, TT rose and strode. When I say strode, TT never walked. He strolled, strutted, strode, or stepped invariably, towards the house. "Through open the door." "Excess, OZ, what a sight met his eyes." "Dust, dust, dust." Everywhere, dust met his eye. When I say that, I mean that he saw dust. Overall, the simple cottage furniture he loved. He groaned three times. The young man, who was idly chewing the stone of a cringit, turned and saw, through the open door. "Dust, dust, dust." Leaping to his feet, he rushed to the Captain's side. "Captain," he said, "we must have a charwoman." I say charwoman, meaning a woman who is paid to do work that other servants are hired to do, but will not. And less time than it takes to skin in a quat-a-torque. Dinghy David was in the rowing boat, making for the shore of the mainland. Sixty-eight hours of hard rowing without a rest brought the strong young fellow to the coast. It was night. A light burned in the window of a lonely cottage that stood upon the shore. It was the work of a moment for Dinghy David to seize upon the beautiful maiden who was writing jam labels by the light of a solitary candle. Such are the lives of a humble. Without a glance at her face, he carried her at breakneck speed to the boat, pushed off and rode like Hercules for the island. Exactly 136 hours, which is five days, 16 hours from the time he started, David brought the captive beauty and laid her senseless with fatigue at the feet of Tom Tum. "What have we here?" asked Tum, pronouncing the H very clearly. A child woman, Saya, responded David, and smiling, the lad fell asleep. When he awoke, the sun was shining and the day was warm. One glance showed him that the cottage was a model of cleanliness. Pirates are sharp glances. A smell of breakfast smote his nostrils pleasantly. It was the work of a moment to dash into the house, wash, shave, and there upon a snowy bed were laid the very close in which long years ago he had been captured. In another moment, he was in them and dashing downstairs, doing up the buttons as he went. He flung himself panting into the breakfast room. The glorious girl looked up from her bacon with a cry. Tum started to his feet, the young man opened his mouth. "Amena trude!" he called. "Once less!" she exclaimed. For once, Tum's cool courage failed him. He started back. The sweethearts in each other's arms. "Listen!" said Tum, when he regained his breath, and they, gazing into each other's eyes, listened. "Gaze elsewhere!" said Tum. "And I will unfold a tale." In the heat of the moment, he put his sleeve into the butter. Our menotrude sprang to his assistants. Tum unfolded her in his embrace. "This lady is my daughter," he said, turning to Winsless, who stood amazed. "I will not bother you with the story," said Tum. "But five and forty years ago, I wooed in wed her lovely mother." Twenty-one years ago today, a manotrude was born, and her mother, after lingering two years, died, leaving the poor girl in the care of an honest fishwife. When I say honest, I mean as honest as her, profession would allow. I roam the seas as a pirate. Sorrow made me merciless. Then, when I wished to return to my daughter, I found that I had lost her address. "Father!" said a menotrude. "My daughter," he exclaimed, "I am a careless man." "And I?" said Winsless. "What is the secret of my birth?" Going up to him, Tum, with one superb movement, bared the youth's arm. Upon it was tattooed in gold and purple, the crest of a noble family. "As I thought," exclaimed Tum, then he removed his hat. "Lord Winsless, of when she's lawn." Then my father was the youth began. "The Duke of Thingamaru!" said Tum, bowing low. A cry sounded from the cellars of the cottage. Tum again started. "I had forgotten!" said he. Then he put his hand into his pocket and drew forth this very book. "Ten years ago," said he, consulting his notes, "I told you that I had killed your family." "It was not true." "Not true," said Lord Winsless. "For so we must now call him, not strictly accurate," Tum replied. "I emerged them in these cellars with ten years' provisions." With a noble gesture, he flung the key of the cellars upon the table. "Release them, my lord," he said. "Draw a veil over the rapturous meeting." When the boat was loaded with the noble family, Lord Winsless, erstwhile Dingy David, and her menotrude Tum stood hand-in-hand in front of Captain Thomas Tum. "You must come and see us, father," said she. "My little menotrude," he said, "you can bet your back hair your poor old father will come." Lord W. Rung Tum's hand, his emotion was too great for words. They stepped into the boat and sailed away. As they touched the mainland, they started. "Boom, boom!" came the sound of guns across the water. Tum Tum was at his old game. End of the Pirates Pocket Book. I'm Victoria Cash, and I want to invite you to a place called Lucky Land, where you can play over a hundred social casino-style games for free for your chance to redeem some serious prizes. So what are you waiting for? The best way to discover your luck is to spin. 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