4. CHAPTER IV.
HOW HE DISPOSED OF HIS FOWLING-PIECE.
Next day I went alone to the shipping office to sign the
articles, and there I met a great crowd of sailors, who as
soon as they found what I was after, began to tip the wink
all round, and I overheard a fellow in a great flapping sou'wester
cap say to another old tar in a shaggy monkey-jacket,
“Twig his coat, d'ye see the buttons, that chap ain't going
to sea in a merchantman, he's going to shoot whales. I
say, maty—look here—how d'ye sell them big buttons by
the pound?”
“Give us one for a saucer, will ye?” said another.
“Let the youngster alone,” said a third. “Come here,
my little boy, has your ma put up some sweetmeats for ye
to take to sea?”
They are all witty dogs, thought I to myself, trying to
make the best of the matter, for I saw it would not do to
resent what they said; they can't mean any harm, though
they are certainly very impudent; so I tried to laugh off
their banter, but as soon as ever I could, I put down my
name and beat a retreat.
On the morrow, the ship was advertised to sail. So the
rest of that day I spent in preparations. After in vain trying
to sell my fowling-piece for a fair price to chance customers,
I was walking up Chatham-street with it, when a
curly-headed little man with a dark oily face, and a hooked
nose, like the pictures of Judas Iscariot, called to me
from a strange-looking shop, with three gilded balls hanging
over it.
With a peculiar accent, as if he had been over-eating himself
with Indian-pudding or some other plushy compound, this
curly headed little man very civilly invited me into his shop;
and making a polite bow, and bidding me many unnecessary
good mornings, and remarking upon the fine weather, begged
me to let him look at my fowling-piece. I handed it to him
in an instant, glad of the chance of disposing of it, and told
him that was just what I wanted.
“Ah!” said he, with his Indian-pudding accent again,
which I will not try to mimic, and abating his look of eagerness,
“I thought it was a better article, it's very old.”
“No,” said I, starting in surprise, “it's not been used
more than three times; what will you give for it?”
“We dont buy any thing here,” said he, suddenly looking
very indifferent, “this is a place where people pawn
things.”
Pawn being a word I had never heard before, I asked
him what it meant; when he replied, that when people
wanted any money, they came to him with their fowling-pieces,
and got one third its value, and then left the fowling-piece
there, until they were able to pay back the money.
What a benevolent little old man, this must be, thought
I, and how very obliging.
“And pray,” said I, “how much will you let me have for
my gun, by way of a pawn?”
“Well, I suppose it's worth six dollars, and seeing you're
a boy, I'll let you have three dollars upon it.”
“No,” exclaimed I, seizing the fowling piece, “it's worth
five times that, I'll go somewhere else.”
“Good morning, then,” said he, “I hope you'll do better,”
and he bowed me out as if he expected to see me again
pretty soon.
I had not gone very far, when I came across three more
balls hanging over a shop. In I went, and saw a long
counter, with a sort of picket-fence, running all along from
end to end, and three little holes, with three little old men
standing inside of them, like prisoners looking out of a jail.
Back of the counter were all sorts of things, piled up and
labeled. Hats, and caps, and coats, and guns, and swords,
and canes, and chests, and planes, and books, and writing-desks,
and every thing else. And in a glass case were lots
of watches, and seals, chains, and rings, and breastpins, and
all kinds of trinkets. At one of the little holes, earnestly
talking with one of the hook-nosed men, was a thin woman
in a faded silk gown and shawl, holding a pale little girl by
the hand. As I drew near, she spoke lower in a whisper;
and the man shook his head, and looked cross and rude; and
then some more words were exchanged over a miniature, and
some money was passed through the hole, and the woman
and child shrank out of the door.
I won't sell my gun to that man, thought I; and I passed
on to the next hole; and while waiting there to be served,
an elderly man in a high-waisted surtout, thrust a silver
snuff-box through; and a young man in a calico shirt and a
shiny coat with a velvet collar presented a silver watch; and
a sheepish boy in a cloak took out a frying-pan; and another
little boy had a Bible; and all these things were thrust
through to the hook-nosed man, who seemed ready to hook
any thing that came along; so I had no doubt he would
gladly hook my gun, for the long picketed counter seemed
like a great seine, that caught every variety of fish.
At last I saw a chance, and crowded in for the hole; and
in order to be beforehand with a big man who just then came
in, I pushed my gun violently through the hole; upon which
the hook-nosed man cried out, thinking I was going to shoot
him. But at last he took the gun, turned it end for end,
clicked the trigger three times, and then said, “one dollar.”
“What about one dollar?” said I.
“That's all I'll give,” he replied.
“Well, what do you want?” and he turned to the next
person. This was a young man in a seedy red cravat and
a pimply face, that looked as if it was going to seed likewise,
who, with a mysterious tapping of his vest-pocket and
other hints, made a great show of having something confidential
to communicate.
But the hook-nosed man spoke out very loud, and said,
“None of that; take it out. Got a stolen watch? We
don't deal in them things here.”
Upon this the young man flushed all over, and looked
round to see who had heard the pawnbroker; then he took
something very small out of his pocket, and keeping it hidden
under his palm, pushed it into the hole.
“Where did you get this ring?” said the pawnbroker.
“I want to pawn it,” whispered the other, blushing all
over again.
“What's your name?” said the pawnbroker, speaking
very loud.
“How much will you give?” whispered the other in
reply, leaning over, and looking as if he wanted to hush up
the pawnbroker.
At last the sum was agreed upon, when the man behind
the counter took a little ticket, and tying the ring to it
began to write on the ticket; all at once he asked the young
man where he lived, a question which embarrassed him very
much; but at last he stammered out a certain number in
Broadway.
“That's the City Hotel: you don't live there,” said the
man, cruelly glancing at the shabby coat before him.
“Oh! well,” stammered the other blushing scarlet, “I
thought this was only a sort of form to go through; I don't
like to tell where I do live, for I ain't in the habit of going
to pawnbrokers.”
“You stole that ring, you know you did,” roared out the
hook-nosed man, incensed at this slur upon his calling, and
now seemingly bent on damaging the young man's character
for life. “I'm a good mind to call a constable; we don't
take stolen goods here, I tell you.”
All eyes were now fixed suspiciously upon this martyrized
young man; who looked ready to drop into the earth; and
a poor woman in a night-cap, with some baby-clothes in her
hand, looked fearfully at the pawnbroker, as if dreading to
encounter such a terrible pattern of integrity. At last the
young man slunk off with his money, and looking out of the
window, I saw him go round the corner so sharply that he
knocked his elbow against the wall.
I waited a little longer, and saw several more served;
and having remarked that the hook-nosed men invariably
fixed their own price upon every thing, and if that was
refused told the person to be off with himself; I concluded
that it would be of no use to try and get more from them
than they had offered; especially when I saw that they had
a great many fowling-pieces hanging up, and did not have
particular occasion for mine; and more than that, they
must be very well off and rich, to treat people so cavalierly.
My best plan then seemed to be, to go right back to the
curly-headed pawnbroker, and take up with my first offer.
But when I went back, the curly-headed man was very busy
about something else, and kept me waiting a long time; at
last I got a chance and told him I would take the three
dollars he had offered.
“Ought to have taken it when you could get it,” he
replied. I won't give but two dollars and a half for it
now.”
In vain I expostulated; he was not to be moved, so I
pocketed the money and departed.
