Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone — John Shaqi
Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling StoneReid, Mayne
General
Lost Lenore: The Adventures of a Rolling Stone
Reid, Mayne
Adventure stories; Dime novels; Fiction
"Here I am," said he, "with clear twelve shillings in my pocket. What a
spell of fun I could have, if 'twas not for you! Seven weeks without a
spree, and now can't have it because I've you to take care of. Thought
'twould be so. Rowley, my boy! see what I'm suffering for you. You are
teaching me manners, whether I'm willing to larn 'em or not."
I allowed the sailor to go on uninterrupted with his storm of
complaints, although there was a reflection in my mind, that if I was
keeping him from getting drunk, the obligation was not all on my side.
Stormy had but twelve shillings, and I half-a-crown, which the Captain
had given to me before coming ashore.
It was necessary that something should be done, before this money should
be all spent.
Under ordinary circumstances, the sailor need not have felt any
apprehension, about being out of money. He could easily get employment
in another vessel; but as matters stood, Stormy was afraid of being
caught, should he attempt to join another ship--before that from which
he had deserted had taken her departure from the port. If caught,
Stormy knew he would be punished; and this rendered him a trifle
serious.
The next day we passed in wandering about the city--taking care to avoid
all places where we would be likely to meet with any of the officers, or
men of the ship "Hope."
Stormy's thoughts were all day in a fearful storm, commingled with
anxiety as to what we should do to make a living.
"On your account, Rowley," said he, "I'm not misinclined for a spell on
shore, if I could find anything to do, but that's the trouble. There's
not much work ashore, that be proper for an honest man to bear a hand
in. What little of such work there is here, is done by darkies, while
white men do all the cheating and scheming. Howsomever, lad, we must
try to get at something."
The next day Stormy did try; and obtained work at rigging a new ship,
that had just been launched. The job would last for a month. The wages
were good; and the storm in Stormy's mind had now subsided into an
agreeable calm.
We sought a cheap lodging-house, not far from where his work was to be
performed; and that evening the sailor indulged in a pipe and a glass,
from which he had prudently refrained during all the day.
I was unwilling that the burden of supporting me should be borne by my
generous protector; and being anxious to do something for myself, I
asked him what I should go about.
"I've just been thinking of that," said he, "and I believe I've hit upon
an idea. Suppose you sell newspapers? I see many lads about your age
in that business here; and they must make something at it. It's not
hard work, besides it appears to be very respectable. It is a lit'rary
business, as no boy should be 'shamed of."
I approved of the plan, and joyfully agreed to give it a trial.
It was arranged that the next morning I should go to the office of a
daily paper--buy a bundle of copies; and try to dispose of them at a
profit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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