Chapter Sixteen--In Which Sailor Ben Spins a Yarn
Of course we were all very curious to learn what had befallen SailorBen that morning long ago, when he bade his little bride goodby anddisappeared so mysteriously.
After tea, that same evening, we assembled around the table in thekitchen--the only place where Sailor Ben felt at home--to hear what hehad to say for himself.
The candles were snuffed, and a pitcher of foaming nut-brown ale wasset at the elbow of the speaker, who was evidently embarrassed by therespectability of his audience, consisting of Captain Nutter, MissAbigail, myself, and Kitty, whose face shone with happiness like one ofthe polished tin platters on the dresser.
"Well, my hearties," commenced Sailor Ben--then he stopped short andturned very red, as it struck him that maybe this was not quite theproper way to address a dignitary like the Captain and a severe elderlylady like Miss Abigail Nutter, who sat bolt upright staring at him asshe would have stared at the Tycoon of Japan himself.
"I ain't much of a hand at spinnin' a yarn," remarked Sailor Ben,apologetically, "'specially when the yarn is all about a man as hasmade a fool of hisself, an' 'specially when that man's name is BenjaminWatson."
"Bravo!" cried Captain Nutter, rapping on the table encouragingly.
"Thankee, sir, thankee. I go back to the time when Kitty an' me waslivin' in lodgin's by the dock in New York. We was as happy, sir, as twoporpusses, which they toil not neither do they spin. But when I seed themoney gittin' low in the locker--Kitty's starboard stockin', savin' yourpresence, marm--I got down-hearted like, seem' as I should be obleegedto ship agin, for it didn't seem as I could do much ashore. An' then thesea was my nat'ral spear of action. I wasn't exactly born on it, lookyou, but I fell into it the fust time I was let out arter my birth. Mymother slipped her cable for a heavenly port afore I was old enough tohail her; so I larnt to look on the ocean for a sort of step-mother--an'a precious hard one she has been to me.
"The idee of leavin' Kitty so soon arter our marriage went agin my grainconsiderable. I cruised along the docks for somethin' to do in theway of stevedore: an' though I picked up a stray job here and there,I didn't arn enough to buy ship-bisket for a rat; let alone feedin' twohuman mouths. There wasn't nothin' honest I wouldn't have turned a handto; but the 'longshoremen gobbled up all the work, an' a outsider likeme didn't stand a show.
"Things got from bad to worse; the month's rent took all our cash excepta dollar or so, an' the sky looked kind o' squally fore an' aft. Well,I set out one mornin'--that identical unlucky mornin'--determined to comeback an' toss some pay into Kitty's lap, if I had to sell my jacket forit. I spied a brig unloadin' coal at pier No. 47--how well I remembersit! I hailed the mate, an' offered myself for a coal-heaver. But Iwasn't wanted, as he told me civilly enough, which was better treatmentthan usual. As I turned off rather glum I was signalled by one of themsleek, smooth-spoken rascals with a white hat an' a weed on it, as isalways goin' about the piers a-seekin' who they may devower.
"We sailors know 'em for rascals from stem to starn, but somehow everyfresh one fleeces us jest as his mate did afore him. We don't larnnothin' by exper'ence; we're jest no better than a lot of babys with nobrains.
"'Good mornin', my man,' sez the chap, as iley as you please.
"'Mornin', sir,' sez I.
"'Lookin' for a job?' sez he.
"'Through the big end of a telescope,' sez I--meanin' that the chancesfor a job looked very small from my pint of view.
"'You're the man for my money,' sez the sharper, smilin' as innocent asa cherubim; 'jest step in here, till we talk it over.'
"So I goes with him like a nat'ral-born idiot, into a littlegrocery-shop near by, where we sets down at a table with a bottle atweenus. Then it comes out as there is a New Bedford whaler about to startfor the fishin' grounds, an' jest one able-bodied sailor like me iswanted to make up the crew. Would I go? Yes, I wouldn't on no terms.
"'I'll bet you fifty dollars,' sez he, 'that you'll come back fustmate.'
"'I'll bet you a hundred,' sez I, 'that I don't, for I've signed papersas keeps me ashore, an' the parson has witnessed the deed.'
"So we sat there, he urgin' me to ship, an' I chaffin' him cheerful overthe bottle.
"Arter a while I begun to feel a little queer; things got foggy in myupper works, an' I remembers, faint-like, of signin' a paper; then Iremembers bein' in a small boat; an' then I remembers nothin' until Iheard the mate's whistle pipin' all hands on deck. I tumbled up withthe rest; an' there I was--on board of a whaler outward bound for a threeyears' cruise, an' my dear little lass ashore awaitin' for me."
"Miserable wretch!" said Miss Abigail, in a voice that vibratedamong the tin platters on the dresser. This was Miss Abigail's way oftestifying her sympathy.
"Thankee, marm," returned Sailor Ben, doubtfully.
"No talking to the man at the wheel," cried the Captain. Upon which weall laughed. "Spin!" added my grandfather.
Sailor Ben resumed:
"I leave you to guess the wretchedness as fell upon me, for I've not gotthe gift to tell you. There I was down on the ship's books for a threeyears' viage, an' no help for it. I feel nigh to six hundred years oldwhen I think how long that viage was. There isn't no hour-glass as runsslow enough to keep a tally of the slowness of them fust hours. But Idone my duty like a man, seem' there wasn't no way of gettin' out of it.I told my shipmates of the trick as had been played on me, an they triedto cheer me up a bit; but I was sore sorrowful for a long spell. Many anight on watch I put my face in my hands and sobbed for thinkin' of thelittle woman left among the land-sharks, an' no man to have an eye onher, God bless her!"
Here Kitty softly drew her chair nearer to Sailor Ben, and rested onehand on his arm.
"Our adventures among the whales, I take it, doesn't consarn the presentcompany here assembled. So I give that the go by. There's an end toeverythin', even to a whalin' viage. My heart all but choked me the daywe put into New Bedford with our cargo of ile. I got my three years' payin a lump, an' made for New York like a flash of lightnin'. The peoplehove to and looked at me, as I rushed through the streets like a madman,until I came to the spot where the lodgin'-house stood on West Street.But, Lord love ye, there wasn't no sech lodgin'-house there, but a greatnew brick shop.
"I made bold to go in an' ask arter the old place, but nobody knowednothin' about it, save as it had been torn down two years or more. I wasadrift now, for I had reckoned all them days and nights on gittin' wordof Kitty from Dan Shackford, the man as kept the lodgin'.
"As I stood there with all the wind knocked out of my sails, the idee ofrunnin' alongside the perlice-station popped into my head. The perlicewas likely to know the latitude of a man like Dan Shackford, who wasn'tover an' above respecktible. They did know--he had died in the Tombs jailthat day twelvemonth. A coincydunce, wasn't it? I was ready to drop whenthey told me this; howsomever, I bore up an' give the chief a notion ofthe fix I was in. He writ a notice which I put into the newspapers everyday for three months; but nothin' come of it. I cruised over the cityweek in and week out I went to every sort of place where they hiredwomen hands; I didn't leave a think undone that a uneddicated man coulddo. But nothin' come of it. I don't believe there was a wretcheder soulin that big city of wretchedness than me. Sometimes I wanted to lay downin the sheets and die.
"Driftin' disconsolate one day among the shippin', who should Ioverhaul but the identical smooth-spoken chap with a white hat an' aweed on it! I didn't know if there was any spent left in me, till Iclapped eye on his very onpleasant countenance. 'You villain!' sezI, 'where's my little Irish lass as you dragged me away from?' an' Ilighted on him, hat and all, like that!"
Here Sailor Ben brought his fist down on the deal table with the forceof a sledge-hammer. Miss Abigail gave a start, and the ale leaped up inthe pitcher like a miniature fountain.
"I begs your parden, ladies and gentlemen all; but the thought of thatfeller with his ring an' his watch-chain an' his walrus face, is alustoo many
for me. I was for pitchin' him into the North River, when aperliceman prevented me from benefitin' the human family. I had to payfive dollars for hittin' the chap (they said it was salt and buttery),an' that's what I call a neat, genteel luxury. It was worth double themoney jest to see that white hat, with a weed on it, layin' on the wharflike a busted accordiun.
"Arter months of useless sarch, I went to sea agin. I never got into aforen port but I kept a watch out for Kitty. Once I thought I seed herin Liverpool, but it was only a gal as looked like her. The numbers ofwomen in different parts of the world as looked like her was amazin'. Soa good many years crawled by, an' I wandered from place to place, nevergivin' up the sarch. I might have been chief mate scores of times, maybemaster; but I hadn't no ambition. I seed many strange things in themyears--outlandish people an' cities, storms, shipwracks, an' battles. Iseed many a true mate go down, an' sometimes I envied them what went totheir rest. But these things is neither here nor there.
"About a year ago I shipped on board the Belphoebe yonder, an' of allthe strange winds as ever blowed, the strangest an' the best was thewind as blowed me to this here blessed spot. I can't be too thankful.That I'm as thankful as it is possible for an uneddicated man to be, Heknows as reads the heart of all."
Here ended Sailor Ben's yarn, which I have written down in his ownhomely words as nearly as I can recall them. After he had finished, theCaptain shook hands with him and served out the ale.
As Kitty was about to drink, she paused, rested the cup on her knee, andasked what day of the month it was.
"The twenty-seventh," said the Captain, wondering what she was drivingat.
"Then," cried Kitty, "it's ten years this night sence--"
"Since what?" asked my grandfather.
"Sence the little lass and I got spliced!" roared Sailor Ben. "There'sanother coincydunce for you!"
On hearing this we all clapped hands, and the Captain, with a degreeof ceremony that was almost painful, drank a bumper to the health andhappiness of the bride and bridegroom.
It was a pleasant sight to see the two old lovers sitting side by side,in spite of all, drinking from the same little cup--a battered zincdipper which Sailor Ben had unslung from a strap round his waist. Ithink I never saw him without this dipper and a sheath-knife suspendedjust back of his hip, ready for any convivial occasion.
We had a merry time of it. The Captain was in great force this evening,and not only related his famous exploit in the War of 1812, but regaledthe company with a dashing sea-song from Mr. Shakespeare's play of TheTempest. He had a mellow tenor voice (not Shakespeare, but the Captain),and rolled out the verse with a will:
"The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,The gunner, and his mate,Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,But none of us car'd for Kate."
"A very good song, and very well sung," says Sailor Ben; "but some of usdoes care for Kate. Is this Mr. Shawkspear a seafarin' man, sir?"
"Not at present," replied the Captain, with a monstrous twinkle in hiseye.
The clock was striking ten when the party broke up. The Captain walkedto the "Mariner's Home" with his guest, in order to question himregarding his future movements.
"Well, sir," said he, "I ain't as young as I was, an' I don't cal'ulateto go to sea no more. I proposes to drop anchor here, an' hug theland until the old hulk goes to pieces. I've got two or three thousanddollars in the locker, an' expects to get on uncommon comfortablewithout askin' no odds from the Assylum for Decayed Mariners."
My grandfather indorsed the plan warmly, and Sailor Ben did drop anchorin Rivermouth, where he speedily became one of the institutions of thetown.
His first step was to buy a small one-story cottage located at thehead of the wharf, within gun-shot of the Nutter House. To the greatamusement of my grandfather, Sailor Ben painted the cottage a lightsky-blue, and ran a broad black stripe around it just under the eaves.In this stripe he painted white port-holes, at regular distances, makinghis residence look as much like a man-of-war as possible. With a shortflag-staff projecting over the door like a bowsprit, the effect wasquite magical. My description of the exterior of this palatial residenceis complete when I add that the proprietor nailed a horseshoe againstthe front door to keep off the witches--a very necessary precaution inthese latitudes.
The inside of Sailor Ben's abode was not less striking than the outside.The cottage contained two rooms; the one opening on the wharf hecalled his cabin; here he ate and slept. His few tumblers and a frugalcollection of crockery were set in a rack suspended over the table,which had a cleat of wood nailed round the edge to prevent the dishesfrom sliding off in case of a heavy sea. Hanging against the wallswere three or four highly colored prints of celebrated frigates, anda lithograph picture of a rosy young woman insufficiently clad in theAmerican flag. This was labelled "Kitty," though I'm sure it looked nomore like her than I did. A walrus-tooth with an Esquimaux engraved onit, a shark's jaw, and the blade of a sword-fish were among the enviabledecorations of this apartment. In one corner stood his bunk, or bed,and in the other his well-worn sea-chest, a perfect Pandora's box ofmysteries. You would have thought yourself in the cabin of a real ship.
The little room aft, separated from the cabin by a sliding door, was thecaboose. It held a cooking-stove, pots, pans, and groceries; also a lotof fishing-lines and coils of tarred twine, which made the place smelllike a forecastle, and a delightful smell it is--to those who fancy it.
Kitty didn't leave our service, but played housekeeper for bothestablishments, returning at night to Sailor Ben's. He shortly addeda wherry to his worldly goods, and in the fishing season made a veryhandsome income. During the winter he employed himself manufacturingcrab-nets, for which he found no lack of customers.
His popularity among the boys was immense. A jackknife in his experthand was a whole chest of tools. He could whittle out anything from awooden chain to a Chinese pagoda, or a full-rigged seventy-four a footlong. To own a ship of Sailor Ben's building was to be exalted aboveyour fellow-creatures. He didn't carve many, and those he refused tosell, choosing to present them to his young friends, of whom Tom Bailey,you may be sure, was one.
How delightful it was of winter nights to sit in his cosey cabin, closeto the ship's stove (he wouldn't hear of having a fireplace), and listento Sailor Ben's yarns! In the early summer twilights, when he sat onthe door-step splicing a rope or mending a net, he always had a bevy ofblooming young faces alongside.
The dear old fellow! How tenderly the years touched him after this--allthe more tenderly, it seemed, for having roughed him so cruelly in otherdays!