Now that I have been on board about a month, I find that my life is not
disagreeable. I don't smell the pitch and tar, and I can get into my
hammock without tumbling out on the other side. My messmates are
good-tempered, although they laugh at me very much: but I must say that
they are not very nice in their ideas of honour. A few days after I
came onboard, I purchased some tarts of the bumboat woman, as she is
called; I wished to pay for them, but she had no change, and very
civilly told me she would trust me. She produced a narrow book, and
said that she would open an account with me, and I could pay her when I
thought proper. To this arrangement I had no objection, and I sent up
for different things until I thought that my account must have amounted
to eleven or twelve shillings. As I promised my father that I never
would run in debt, I considered that it was then time that it should be
settled. When I asked for it, what was my surprise to find that it
amounted to 2 pounds 14 shillings, 6 pence. I declared that it was
impossible, and requested that she would allow me to look at the items,
when I found that I was booked for at least three or four dozen tarts
every day, ordered by the young gentlemen "to be put down to Mr
Simple's account." I was very much shocked, not only at the sum of
money which I had to pay, but also at the want of honesty on the part of
my messmates; but when I complained of it in the berth, they all laughed
at me.
At last one of them said, "Peter, tell the truth; did not your father
caution you not to run in debt?"
"Yes, he did," replied I.
"I know that very well," replied he: "all fathers do the same when their
sons leave them; it's a matter of course. Now observe, Peter; it is out
of regard to you, that your messmates have been eating tarts at your
expense. You disobeyed your father's injunctions before you had been a
month from home; and it is to give you a lesson that may be useful in
after-life, that they have considered it their duty to order the tarts.
I trust that it will not be thrown away upon you. Go to the woman, pay
your bill, and never run up another."
"That I certainly shall not," replied I; but as I could not prove who
ordered the tarts, and did not think it fair that the woman should lose
her money, I went up and paid the bill, with a determination never to
open an account with anybody again.
But this left my pockets quite empty, so I wrote to my father, stating
the whole transaction, and the consequent state of my finances. My
father, in his answer, observed that whatever might have been their
motives, my messmates had done me a friendly act; and that as I had lost
my money by my own carelessness, I must not expect that he would allow
me any more pocket-money. But my mother, who added a postscript to his
letter, slipped in a five-pound note, and I do believe that it was with
my father's sanction, although he pretended to be very angry at my
forgetting his injunctions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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