The Story of Jennie- or the Abandoned by Paul Gallico Page A

as though on the verge of changing her mind, but then said, `Some day, perhaps, but not now. When we come hack, maybe. Alexandria, Cairo, then up the River Nile. Bubastis is where I want to get to. We really were sacred there . . .'
    Ship after ship they inspected whose home ports were dotted all over the globe from Suez to Calcutta, from Singapore to Colon, and from Bangor, Maine, to Jamaica, West Indies and Tampico, Mexico. And then, right at the end of the largest basin, almost at the entrance to St. Catherine's Docks, they came upon a little one squatting low and lumpy alongside its berth, and its letters weren't in gold, but plain white, and that so smudged and dirty from smoke and grime that Peter could hardly make them out and had to squint up a second time through the growing darkness, but when he did read it his heart gave a jump of excitement.
    'Jennie! It says: "Countess of Greenock—Glasgow"!'
    'Lumme!' Jennie whooped, a little inelegantly, `that's our ship. There's your new home for the next few weeks or so, Peter.'
    Peter's enthusiasm cooled somewhat as he looked her over, for she was far from a thing of beauty. Her hull was black and rusted red in spots, squat and ugly, with a stubby bow from which rose a short mast with an enormous cargo boom that was engaged at the very moment lifting crates and packing-cases and huge nets filled with barrels and drums from the dockside and lowering them into her interior.
    She had an island bridge amidships with a wheelhouse a-top in several different shades of brown, that reminded Peter of a large slice of chocolate layer cake. Another mast and busy boom stuck up behind this, and then back of the second cargo hold rose the brief cabin section with quarters, two lifeboats fastened on either side, and to cap it a long, thin, dirty smokestack in part buff topped with black. Thick smoke was pouring from this funnel, and from it there came a soft-coal smell so raw, acrid and pungent that Peter sneezed violently several times.
    `Bless you,' Jennie said, and then added with feeling: 'It's going to be a job to keep ourselves clean aboard her. But of course you know what it means when she's smoking like that. Probably getting up steam to sail to-night. We're just in time. You see they're loading as fast as they can.'
    Jennie studied the situation for a moment and then observed: 'Looks to me like they're loading general cargo. Which means plenty of work for us, especially since there'll be foodstuffs. Well, Peter, are you ready to go aboard? We might as well, while they're busy and pick ourselves a spot to stow away until they cast off.'
    Peter could hardly keep his teeth from chattering from pure excitement. But he said to Jennie, 'What if when they find us they are angry and decide to throw us overboard?' For he remembered reading that it went hard very often with stowaways found aboard ship after sailing.
    'What?' said Jennie, a little scornfully, `sailors? Throw us overboard? You forget that we are cats and they are superstitious. Now then! We shan't want to risk getting stepped on where they're loading. There ought to be a third gangway aft to the officers' quarters.' The mere sight of the vessel had been sufficient to turn Jennie's speech quite nautical. She continued: 'If I know anything about the discipline aboard, the way this tramp seems to be kept, there won't be any watch on it. The crew is probably mostly ashore having a last fling. Come along, we'll have a look.'
    They crept around the darkened portion of the pier to the stern of the Countess of Greenock, where, sure, enough, a small gangway led up from the dock to the head of a narrow companionway on the lower deck. And as Jennie had prophesied, there was no sailor on watch duty at either end, in fact there wasn't so much as a soul about.
    'No time like the present,' said Jennie cheerfully, having inspected the set-up thoroughly. She took a few more cautious sniffs all around, and then, without further ado, trotted up