Summary

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Up The Baltic; Or, Young America in Norway…

A feeling akin to horror crept through the minds of the more timid, as they gazed upon the immovable body in the dilapidated craft; for they felt that they were in the presence of death, and to young people this is always an impressive season. By this time the ship was within a short distance of the water-logged bateau. As the waif on the ocean exhibited no signs of life, the first lieutenant, in charge of the vessel, was in doubt as to what he should do.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Up The Baltic; Or, Young America in Norway…

Blacklock, he encountered Peaks, who no sooner saw him than he laid violent hands upon him.
“Let me alone!” shouted Clyde, struggling to escape from the grasp of his powerful antagonist.
“Not yet, my beauty,” replied the boatswain, as he dragged his victim into his own room, which was near the office. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“I want to see my mother,” growled Clyde, when he had exhausted his strength in the fruitless struggle to escape.
“I dare say you do; babies always want to see their mothers.”
“I’m not a baby.”
“Then behave like a man.”
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Oliver Optic Oliver Optic Up The Baltic; Or, Young America in Norway…

By this time a crowd of young officers and seamen had leaped upon the top-gallant forecastle, and into the weather rigging, to obtain a view of the little boat, which, like a waif on the ocean, was drifting down towards the coast of Norway. It contained only a single person, who was either a dwarf or a boy, for he was small in stature.
Source: Gutenberg

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