3. CHAPTER III.
From the boat's bow, I jumped ashore, before she was
secured, and following my brother's directions, proceeded
across the town toward St. John's Park, to the house of a
college friend of his, for whom I had a letter.
It was a long walk; and I stepped in at a sort of grocery to
get a drink of water, where some six or eight rough looking
fellows were playing dominoes upon the counter, seated upon
cheese boxes. They winked, and asked what sort of sport
I had had gunning on such a rainy day, but I only gulped
down my water and stalked off.
Dripping like a seal, I at last grounded arms at the door-way
of my brother's friend, rang the bell and inquired for him.
“What do you want?” said the servant, eying me as if
I were a housebreaker.
“I want to see your lord and master; show me into the
parlor.”
Upon this my host himself happened to make his appearance,
and seeing who I was, opened his hand and heart to
me at once, and drew me to his fireside; he had received a
letter from my brother, and had expected me that day.
The family were at tea; the fragrant herb filled the room
with its aroma; the brown toast was odoriferous; and every
thing pleasant and charming. After a temporary warming,
I was shown to a room, where I changed my wet dress, and
returning to the table, found that the interval had been well
improved by my hostess; a meal for a traveler was spread,
and I laid into it sturdily. Every mouthful pushed the
devil that had been tormenting me all day farther and farther
out of me, till at last I entirely ejected him with three
successive bowls of Bohea.
Magic of kind words, and kind deeds, and good tea! That
night I went to bed thinking the world pretty tolerable, after
all; and I could hardly believe that I had really acted that
morning as I had, for I was naturally of an easy and forbearing
disposition; though when such a disposition is temporarily
roused, it is perhaps worse than a cannibal's.
Next day, my brother's friend, whom I choose to call Mr.
Jones, accompanied me down to the docks among the shipping,
in order to get me a place. After a good deal of searching,
we lighted upon a ship for Liverpool, and found the
captain in the cabin; which was a very handsome one,
lined with mahogany and maple; and the steward, an elegant
looking mulatto in a gorgeous turban, was setting out
on a sort of sideboard some dinner service which looked like
silver, but it was only Britannia ware highly polished.
As soon as I clapped my eye on the captain, I thought to
myself he was just the captain to suit me. He was a fine
looking man, about forty, splendidly dressed, with very black
whiskers, and very white teeth, and what I took to be a
free, frank look out of a large hazel eye. I liked him amazingly.
He was promenading up and down the cabin, humming
some brisk air to himself when we entered.
“Good morning, sir,” said my friend.
“Good morning, good morning, sir,” said the captain.
“Steward, chairs for the gentlemen.”
“Oh! never mind, sir,” said Mr. Jones, rather taken
aback by his extreme civility. “I merely called to see
whether you want a fine young lad to go to sea with you.
Here he is; he has long wanted to be a sailor; and his
friends have at last concluded to let him go for one voyage,
and see how he likes it.”
“Ah! indeed!” said the captain, blandly, and looking
where I stood. He's a fine fellow; I like him. So you
want to be a sailor, my boy, do you?” added he, affectionately
patting my head. “It's a hard life, though; a hard
life.”
But when I looked round at his comfortable, and almost
luxurious cabin, and then at his handsome care-free face, I
thought he was only trying to frighten me, and I answered,
“Well, sir, I am ready to try it.”
“I hope he's a country lad, sir,” said the captain to my
friend, “these city boys are sometimes hard cases.”
“Oh! yes, he's from the country,” was the reply, “and of
a highly respectable family; his great-uncle died a Senator.”
“But his great-uncle don't want to go to sea too?” said
the captain, looking funny.
“Oh! no, oh, no!—Ha! ha!”
“Ha! ha!” echoed the captain.
A fine funny gentleman, thought I, not much fancying,
however, his levity concerning my great-uncle, he'll be
cracking his jokes the whole voyage; and so I afterward
said to one of the riggers on board; but he bade me look
out, that he did not crack my head.
“Well, my lad,” said the captain, “I suppose you know
we havn't any pastures and cows on board; you can't get
any milk at sea, you know.”
“Oh! I know all about that, sir; my father has crossed
the ocean, if I havn't.”
“Yes,” cried my friend, “his father, a gentleman of one
of the first families in America, crossed the Atlantic several
times on important business.”
“Embassador extraordinary?” said the captain, looking
funny again.
“Oh! no, he was a wealthy merchant.”
“Ah! indeed!” said the captain, looking grave and bland
again, “then this fine lad is the son of a gentleman?”
“Certainly,” said my friend, “and he's only going to sea
for the humor of it; they want to send him on his travels
with a tutor, but he will go to sea as a sailor.”
The fact was, that my young friend (for he was only about
twenty-five) was not a very wise man; and this was a huge
fib, which out of the kindness of his heart, he told in my
behalf, for the purpose of creating a profound respect for me
in the eyes of my future lord.
Upon being apprized, that I had willfully forborne taking
the grand tour with a tutor, in order to put my hand in a
tar-bucket, the handsome captain looked ten times more
funny than ever; and said that he himself would be my
tutor, and take me on my travels, and pay for the privilege.
“Ah!” said my friend, “that reminds me of business.
Pray, captain, how much do you generally pay a handsome
young fellow like this?”
“Well,” said the captain, looking grave and profound,
“we are not so particular about beauty, and we never give
more than three dollars to a green lad like Wellingborough
here, that's your name, my boy? Wellingborough Redburn!
—Upon my soul, a fine sounding name.”
“Why, captain,” said Mr. Jones, quickly interrupting
him, “that won't pay for his clothing.”
“But you know his highly respectable and wealthy relations
will doubtless see to all that,” replied the captain, with
his funny look again.
“Oh! yes, I forgot that,” said Mr. Jones, looking rather
foolish. “His friends will of course see to that.”
“Of course,” said the captain smiling.
“Of course,” repeated Mr. Jones, looking reufully at the
patch on my pantaloons, which just then I endeavored to
hide with the skirt of my shooting-jacket.
“You are quite a sportsman I see,” said the captain,
eying the great buttons on my coat, upon each of which
was a carved fox.
Upon this my benevolent friend thought that here was a
grand opportunity to befriend me.
“Yes, he's quite a sportsman,” said he, “he's got a very
valuable fowling-piece at home, perhaps you would like to
purchase it, captain, to shoot gulls with at sea? It's cheap.”
“Oh! no, he had better leave it with his relations,” said
the captain, “so that he can go hunting again when he returns
from England.”
“Yes, perhaps that would be better, after all,” said my
friend, pretending to fall into a profound musing, involving
all sides of the matter in hand. “Well, then, captain, you
can only give the boy three dollars a month, you say?”
“Only three dollars a month,” said the captain.
“And I believe,” said my friend, “that you generally
give something in advance, do you not?”
“Yes, that is sometimes the custom at the shipping offices,”
said the captain, with a bow, “but in this case, as
the boy has rich relations, there will be no need of that, you
know.”
And thus, by his ill-advised, but well-meaning hints concerning
the respectabilty of my paternity, and the immense
wealth of my relations, did this really honest-hearted but
foolish friend of mine, prevent me from getting three dollars
in advance, which I greatly needed. However, I said nothing,
though I thought the more; and particularly, how that
it would have been much better for me, to have gone on
board alone, accosted the captain on my own account, and
told him the plain truth. Poor people make a very poor
business of it when they try to seem rich.
The arrangement being concluded, we bade the captain
good-morning; and as we were about leaving the cabin, he
smiled again, and said, “Well, Redburn, my boy, you won't
get home-sick before you sail, because that will make you
very sea-sick when you get to sea.”
And with that he smiled very pleasantly, and bowed two
or three times, and told the steward to open the cabin-door,
which the steward did with a peculiar sort of grin on his
face, and a slanting glance at my shooting-jacket.
And so we left.
