Chapter 1 "Is it not a glorious day to be alive, Higgins?" I ask, sitting on the hatch of my fleet little schooner with my back to the aftermast and my legs sprawled out before me, looking up at the trim of the sails. Im clad in my usual sailing gear of light cotton shirt, short buckskin skirt, bare of lower limbs and bare of feet. The breeze ruffles through the stubble of hair that is regrowing itself on my head and the sun feels good on my face. "It is indeed, Miss," says my very, very good John Higgins, Confidant, Personal Assistant, and Highest-Paid Employee of Faber Shipping, Worldwide. Highest-paid, that is, when Faber Shipping has any money at all to pay anything to anybody. Right now, my corporation consists of two small boats, the Evening Star and the Morning Star, and the Nancy B. Alsop, my beautiful little Gloucester schooner and current flagship of Faber Shipping, Worldwide, on which my bottom now rests. "However," continues Higgins, nudging, once again, my ankles back together and pulling the hem of my buckskin skirt back down over my knees, over which knees it had crawled up a bit, "you really should stay out of the sun as it is not good for your complexion. I assume youll be taking your lunch up here on the hatch?" I nod and smile up at my good friend and protector. "You spoil me too much, Higgins." "Well, Miss, we must keep you tidy, mustnt we?" says Higgins. He reaches over and runs his hand through my hair, which is now about three inches long. "Soon well be able to comb this, which will be a relief. I will be back directly." I had lost my long, sandy locks in a not-very-pleasant incident on my way down the Mississippi River this summer. To make up for my loss of coiffure, I have purchased, in various ports, a collection of wigs, some rather fancy, some very plain, and I must admit I enjoy prancing about in some of the gaudier ones when we are in foreign portsI have one especially outrageous long, curly red one festooned with yellow ribbons, which comes all the way down to my bum. Higgins, upon seeing me wearing it for the first time, visibly recoiled and said, "God, thats ghastly," this being the only time I think I have ever moved him to taking the Lords name in vain, which is something, considering what I have done in the past to offend both his sensibilities and his sense of propriety. Ah, yes, that was all in good fun, but here, in the sun and amongst my friends who all know me for my eccentricities, I wear no wig at all. The Nancy B is headed south to pick up more sugar in Jamaicathats what weve been doing during the past few months since we left New Orleans. We haul granite down from New Englandit doesnt bring much, but its good ballast and from what else are they gonna make fine buildings and tombstones down there in Jamaica? Sand? Coral?and so after we off-load and sell that, we buy sugar and haul it north from the Caribbean to Boston to be made into rum by the many distilleries there. Then we turn Excerpted from My Bonny Light Horseman: Being an Account of the Further Adventures of Jacky Faber, in Love and War by L. A. Meyer All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
