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by Bob
Rated: E · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #2257073
As Trhee dwells in solitude on his grassy hill, humans for the first time will appear.
The Music Tree

Chapter Three

"Come Da, yer out o coin and the pub's a closin' an it's a fer piece to the cabin," said Sean O'quin as he put his father's arm over his shoulder and eased him toward the door.
"Ye got paid t'day lad. Stand me for a rum for the road," slurred Billy O'quin in his son's ear.
"Nae, Da. I got to be savin' ever penny that we don't spend fer grub," said Sean as Billy's legs gave out and he had to sling his wirey father across his own powerful shoulder. They would both be on the docks of Boston harbor come daylight. Billy with a hangover and Sean keen eyed looking for an opportunity for profit. It came late in the day. The lanyard on a huge keg of ale gave and dropped on a corner. A stave took the hit and broke the seal. The stevedores quickly righted the keg. Lloyd's of London would pay off on the loss and what ever was left of the ale would sell for auction. Sean saw it happen and quickly moved to the salvage warehouse and put in a bid. He checked back at quitting time and found the wooden keg still held most of its contents and bought it for a pittance.
"Come Da, help me move this keg over to the Salted Dog and see if old Mort'l let us turn a bit o profit." The two work hardened men wrestled the keg on an iron wheeled dolly and pushed it down the cobble street to the Salted Dog.
"Mort, got almost a full barrel o ale here fresh of the boat. Sell it to you by the bucket and pour it into an empty keg for yuh." Offered Billy.
"Give you half wholesale poured up," growled Mort around the stub of a fat Cuban cigar.
"Done," said Sean, "we'll bring it around. Mort met them at the back door and brought them inside his storeroom.
"Just drained that one last night. It's still wet and tight. Here's a bucket and a funnel." Mort stood and watched them pour bucket after bucket from one barrel to the other counting as they worked.
He counted out payment in coin onto the counter. Grinning Sean pushed a couple of coins back and said, "Draw Billy a tankard for his hard work, Mort n I'll be headin' to the house."
"Aye, n you get a chance at anymore spirits come see me first," said Mort as Sean moved away from the bar.
Sean, not yet twenty saw the world through a different set of eyes than did his father. Billy had come from the old country serving as a deck hand on a freighter bound for the new world. He drew pay and jumped ship in Boston harbor to become an American. Abject poverty had been his lot in old Ireland. There was stevedore work on the docks. He wooed a pretty barmaid and the two brought forth Sean. When Molly died of the fever Billy drowned his grief in ale and rum and hard work on the docks. Billy's vision stopped at the pubs and saloons along the docks and a life of work and hand to mouth existence.
Though he inherited a bit of his father's brogue Sean was American through and through. He used his windfall to bid on any damaged freight and became a wiley trader. He was acquainted with every importer along the docks and found a ready market for his salvage goods.
Later he acquired a horse and wagon and began buying shipping off the boats. He started with ale and rum and developed a route of inns and pubs outside Boston. Yard goods and other merchandise were added to his inventory.
As Sean passed his nineteenth birthday he happened to off load the luggage of an Irish immigrant. As he removed the net from a load of luggage he saw a beautiful red haired coleen in the company of her parents coming down the gangway. Sean quickly stepped over and doffed his hat.
"There's carriages at the end of the docks sir, and I'd be obliged to deliver yer goods if you like." said Sean, his eyes catching the flashing green eyes of the pretty girl standing with her parents.
"You an Irish lad, boyo?" asked the well dressed gentleman.
"American Irish, sir, born here to Irish parents, I have a wagon and can follow your carriage to your new home."
"Very well then, see to it."
Sean loaded their luggage on a dolly cart and rolled it to where he had his wagon parked beside the docks. He loaded carefully and quickly never taking his eyes off the family moving toward the hacks at docks end. By the time they loaded into the hack he was pulling his one horse wagon in behind and followed them to their new home. He unloaded and carried each piece inside their home and deposited it gently where ever the lady of the house indicated.
Sean decided he would court the fair coleen with the dainty freckles across her upturned nose. This meant winning her father's approval. As he was taking his leave he chanced to enter conversation with Mister O'Malley.
"Lovely home sir, Your here to settle then?" asked Sean.
"Aye Lad, My brother and I have ventured to open an import export business and I've been sent to set up the American end of the venture."
"Import export, then you'll be needin' warehousin' along the docks," said Sean.
"Indeed I'll be needing a warehouse for sure."
"I'm acquainted with every merchant on the docks and I can get you some warehouse footage at a fair price. Should I send someone by?"
"Better, you find the warehouse and I'll come with you to have a look. Let me know."
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