Therefore I made no effort in this direction, but after wandering
aimlessly about until I was dog tired, I went down the West India Dock
Road until I came to a house with the legend painted up--"Seamen's
Boarding House," and knocked at its door with my heart thumping
furiously. A terrible looking man with a great grizzled beard and a
voice like a foghorn came to the door and looked at me in silence. I
swallowed nothing once or twice, then taking out my discharge from
my last ship, which I had treasured as if it were a bank-note for a
hundred pounds, I said, "Please, Sir, may I stay here. I want a ship
and I've got a good discharge. I'll pay you out of my advance if you'll
get me a ship." He growled.
"Wher's yer dunnage (clothes)?" I answered faintly, "I've got none,
I was shipwrecked." He hesitated for a moment, then rumbled, "come
inside," and with my heart leaping, I went into a stuffy front parlour,
where sat two or three men, obviously ill at ease, and a fat pale faced
woman who was looking fixedly in the fire. Taking me by the shoulder,
the boarding-master led me up to the woman saying--
"Here, mother, here's an able seaman wants to stop here. He's got no
clothes and no money, but he says he'll pay me out of his advance note."
Then I saw with a wave of pity that she was blind. She turned at the
voice and put out both hands, touching me and feeling me from my
forehead down to my waist.
"Why, Bill," she cried, "its only a child, a poor little boy," and with
a motherly movement she drew me to her, and felt me all over again.
Then she asked me many questions, all of which I answered with absolute
truth, for there could be no reason why I should not. And at the
conclusion of her examination I was entered on the books of the house
as a boarder, while the master went growling about saying that at this
rate he would soon be in the workhouse. But the old lady kept me by
her side and whispered that it was only Mr Jones's fun, he didn't mean
anything by it, and that he would surely do his best to get me a ship
soon.
This was true, for though he was always grumpy, and given to regaling
his boarders at meal times with lugubrious forebodings of his speedy
entrance to Poplar Workhouse, with victuals at the price they were and
so many hungry outward-bounders to feed, I know he did his best for me;
did it so well, that in five days from entering his house I obtained
a ship as boy with a wage of twenty-five shillings per month, to my
intense surprise. I received, like the rest of the crew, a note for a
month's advance, which I handed over to him at once. Out of this he
gave me a small supply of most necessary clothes bought second hand, so
that he must have dealt with me not merely honestly but in a spirit of
generosity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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