Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen

Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen

Summary

Portrait of Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen In Collusion with Fate (1896)

It was but fitting that the commander of so large a ship should be a large man. His blond, slightly puffed, and weather-beaten face had something of the heaviness of that of a St. Bernard dog; while the swarthy, wild-eyed Italian, who stood opposite to him, was lean, wiry, and savagely alert like a tiger-cat. The captain rose with cumbrous marine gallantry as Polly entered, offered his chair to her, and gave Pemberton a seat at his side on the sofa.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen In Collusion with Fate (1896)

It was a most impressive spectacle, and to Pemberton seemed every time to signalize afresh the last and highest triumph of man. There always seemed to him to be a more complex and imposing combination of the subtlest brain labor of generations in these marvellous marine structures than in any other contrivance of human ingenuity or skill. He could never contemplate a ship like the Majestic or Fürst Bismarck without tacitly congratulating himself on being a man.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen In Collusion with Fate (1896)

But to Pemberton, though he was himself a dweller in the sunny clime of her favor, her tropical zone was much too populous to suit his taste. There was first the Honorable Algernon, not to speak of two Yale youths, who were so young that they did not even suspect how young they were. They could talk nonsense with a joyous grace which made Pemberton wither with envy, and when Polly laughed at their sophomoric wit, as she was constantly doing, he could have strangled them with enthusiasm.
Source: Wikisource

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