We and the World: A Book for Boys. Part IIEwing, Juliana Horatia
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We and the World: A Book for Boys. Part II
Ewing, Juliana Horatia
Sea stories
"I didn't mean to steal a passage, sir," said I, "and I don't mean it
now. I tried to get taken as a sailor-lad, but they seemed to expect me
to have been to sea before, and to have some papers to show it. So I
stowed away, and I'm very sorry if you think it dishonest, sir, but I
meant to work for my passage, and I will work hard."
"And what do you suppose an ignorant land-lubber like you can do, as we
don't happen to be short of public speakers?"
"I thought I could clean things, and carry coals, and do rough work till
I learnt my trade, sir."
"Can you climb?" said the captain, looking at the rigging.
"I've never climbed on board ship, sir, but I was good at athletics when
I was at school, and I believe I could."
"We'll see," said the captain significantly. "And supposing you're of no
use, and we kick ye overboard, can ye swim?"
"Yes, sir, and dive. I'm at home in the water."
"It's more than you are _on_ it. Bo'sun!"
"Yes, sir."
"Take this accomplished young gentleman of fortune, and give him
something to do. Give him an oil-rag and let him rub some of our brass,
and stow his own. And, bo'sun!"
"Yes, sir."
"Take him first to Mr. Johnson, and say that I request Mr. Johnson to
ascertain how much change Mister Moses Cohen has left him, and to take
charge of it."
"Yes, sir."
The captain's witticisms raised renewed chuckling among the crew, as I
followed the boatswain, duly saluting my new master as I passed him, and
desperately trying to walk easily and steadily in my ordinary boots upon
the heaving deck.
Mr. Johnson was the third mate, and I may as well say at once that his
shrewdness and kindness, his untiring energy and constant cheerfulness,
make his memory very pleasant to me and to all who served with him, and
whose reasons for being grateful to him belong to all hours of the day
and night, and to every department of our work and our play.
I was far too giddy to hear what the boatswain said to Mr. Johnson, but
I was conscious that the third mate's eyes were scanning me closely as
he listened. Then he said, "_Have_ you got any money, youngster?"
"Here, sir," said I; and after some struggles I got the leather bag from
my neck, and Mr. Johnson pocketed it.
"Ran away from school, I suppose?"
I tried to reply, and could not. Excitement had kept me up before the
captain, but the stress of it was subsiding, and putting my arms up to
get my purse had aggravated the intense nausea that was beginning to
overpower me. I managed to shake my head instead of speaking, after
which I thought I must have died then and there of the agony across my
brow. It seemed probable that I should go far to pay for my passage by
the amusement I afforded the crew. Even Mr. Johnson laughed, as he said,
"He seems pretty bad. Look after him, and then let him try his hand on
those stanchions--they're disgraceful. Show him how, and see that he
lays on--"
"Aye, aye, sir."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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