"The ship anchored in the stream first; the mate got a boatman to take him across the Bay, and he hid up country somewhere for awhile, to keep clear of the police. Then he got aboard of a ship, just as she was going out of the harbor, and went second mate of her over to China. "When we hauled into the wharf on a Sunday afternoon, there were about a thousand people down to see 'the blood boat' as they called her, for the boarding-house runners had reported her character. The men got out warrants against the officers, but none of them were arrested, for they kept out of sight for awhile and the sailors all had a good drunk, and what didn't go up to the mines were all shipped off again in less than ten days, and the affair blew over. "The next I heard of Clarkson he was mate of the ship 'Fantail' with Capt. Harry Saunders, and went from Boston to Frisco in her. One day he punished the 'galoots' by making them jump overboard in a calm, and straddle a long plank made fast at one end by a rope from the ship. He had made them some paddles and they had to work them as though they were towing the ship ahead. Another time he lashed six of them, head and heels together, laid them along the deck in a line, lashed the heels of the last one to a ringbolt and putting a rope around the shoulders of the first one he took it to the capstan and made some of the sailors heave taut till the poor fellows on the stretch cried out blue murder. "Clarkson could always get more wages from the religious shipowners of Boston than any mate sailing out of the port; he was considered such a smart officer. "They complain that there are no American seamen to man our ships, and if the truth were known it would be found that the decent lads are driven out of the service, in disgust, by the brutality of the officers, or if they get through the forecastle they find it useless to become officers unless they are qualified to be prize-fighters. The boys on Cape Cod are going into stores in the cities, or on to farms out West, instead of going to sea as they used to do. "I've often wished I could have a word with Mr. Jones about that voyage. I don't profess to love sailors much and I think sometimes that the better you treat them the worse they are. But if a man really wants to do them good, I should think he would do it at sea as well as on shore." "Rather," I said, "he should do more at sea than on shore. A sailor spends three-fourths of his life on board ship and, if one wishes to subject him to good influences, it would seem reasonable to bring them to bear upon him where he passes most of his time. But Mr. Jones' style seemed to be to build bethels and homes for him to benefit by in the two weeks he is on shore, and then leave him for months in entire neglect to hear only curses and blackguardism, and suffer tyranny.