CHAPTER VII.
CHARLIE GETS NEW IDEAS WHILE IN BOSTON.
WHEN Ben returned, he was no less concerned than Sally, and instantlyproceeded to administer consolation in a more practical form, byproposing that he should take passage with his father and the boys toBoston, have the wig dressed, and procure an entire new suit, and hewould pay the bills.
But the good man’s troubles were not ended yet. The barbers wereaccustomed, when they dressed wigs, to put them on blocks of wood, madein the form of a head. It so happened that, there being a great deal ofwork in the barber’s shop, all the blocks were in use. The barber, forwant of a block, clapped the wig on the head of his negro apprenticeto dress it. A band of music came along, and the negro, jumping up,ran out to listen. He went by a carriage-maker’s shop, when a man, whowas at work painting wheels, struck with the ludicrous appearance of anegro with a snow-white wig, poured a whole paper of lampblack on hishead. This finished up the wig. But Captain Rhines, after laughing tillthe tears ran down his cheeks, procured another.
Charlie spent every leisure moment, while in Boston, in the ship-yardsand boat-builders’ shops.
Mr. Welch, who had become thoroughly acquainted with Charlie whilevisiting Elm Island, invited him and Fred to come with Captain Rhinesto dinner. He soon wormed out of Charlie all he had in view respectingFred, which caused him to become interested in the boy, and he gavehim much good advice in respect to business, concluding his remarks bytelling him he would buy all the fish he could cure, and give him thehighest market prices, according to quality.
Mr. Welch invited, and insisted on, Captain Rhines coming to tea, as hehad some private matters he wished to talk over with him.
“My old friend,” said the merchant, deeply moved, taking both thecaptain’s hands in his the moment they were alone, “my oldest son,who bears my name,--a name which I have ever striven to connect witheverything good and honorable,--is little better than a drunkard. He isboth indolent and vicious. His conduct has broken my heart, and is fastbringing my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.”
Captain Rhines, not knowing how to reply, remained silent; but thepressure of the hand, and the tears that gathered in his eyes,attested, beyond the power of words, his sympathy.
“He is,” continued the parent, “of large business capacity, attractivein his manners, and makes friends, though of violent temper whenaroused.”
“Why don’t you send him to sea? Let him see the hard side of life, cometo misery, and learn to submit.”
“I would, but it would kill his mother. She thinks his temper is soviolent he would kill some one, or be killed himself.”
“Nonsense! begging your pardon. He may be very violent with you or hismother; but let the mate of a vessel get afoul of him, and he wouldknuckle fast enough. I wish I was going to sea now; I’d engage to bringhim to his bearings, and not hurt him, either.”
“His mother would never consent to his going to sea. But I’ll tell youwhat I’ve been thinking of ever since I was at Elm Island. That is aplace free from temptation. He resembles me in many things. Like me, heis extravagantly fond of gunning and fishing, and has keen appreciationof everything beautiful in nature. I thought, if he could spend asummer in that beautiful spot,--he likes you and Ben; he couldn’t helpliking Charlie and Sally,--perhaps it might aid him to rally, for Ithink of late he has made some effort in that direction. His mother hasoften spoken of it, and says she would not be afraid to have him go toElm Island.”
“She need be under no apprehension of his hurting Ben, and Bencertainly won’t hurt him.”
“It is not altogether in respect to Elm Island that I wished to speak.But while I was there, I became acquainted with Mr. Murch--Uncle Isaac,as everybody there calls him. He is certainly a most remarkable man. Idon’t know what it is, but there’s something about him impresses andinfluences one in spite of himself. I couldn’t help feeling, while Iwas talking with him, that I wanted him to have a good opinion of me,and was vexed with myself for wishing that I knew what he thought ofme.”
“Let me tell you, my friend, you couldn’t have a greater complimentthan Isaac’s good opinion.”
“But the most remarkable thing is the liking that your John andCharlie, and, as far as I could see, every other boy, seems to havefor him, and the influence he has over them. Why, John told me--andCharlie says the same--that this young Williams was a bad, mischievousboy, so bad that they were determined not to play with him, and wouldhave given him up had it not been for Mr. Murch. Now, if he can worksuch miracles, why, if my poor boy was down there, couldn’t he, withGod’s help and blessing, do something for him?”
“It is quite a different case. These were boys; your son is--”
“Twenty-two next March.”
“They were on the same level with Isaac. Your son is educated, andIsaac would seem like an old codger to an educated man.”
“He wouldn’t hold to that opinion long when he came to be acquaintedwith him. It is too late now for this year. But if you think Benjaminwould be willing,--I should expect to pay his way, of course,--I shouldlike to try it, if I could get him to go.”
“Anything that I or Ben can do, we will be glad to. Our hearts andhomes are open to you.”
“You are very kind, and I will think more about it; there’s timeenough. Now, my dear friend, permit me to say a word to you. I amconsiderably older than yourself. Our friendship is of long standing.It dates back to the year you was twenty-one, and came to Boston mateof the first vessel I ever owned any part of. We ought by this time to_know_ each other as well as we _love_ each other. I feel as if I musttell you there is but one thing you lack. Do, my old friend, give yourheart to God. Let us be one in feeling and sympathies here, as we arein every other respect. In this bitter trial which has come upon me, ithas been my stay and comfort. If I could not have cast my burden on thebosom of the Savior, I should have gone mad. There are sorrows to whichwealth can offer no alleviation, but there are none beyond the aid ofdivine grace.”
Captain Rhines was touched to the very heart, and most of all by thenoble spirit manifested by his friend, who, when crushed to the earthby individual grief, turned from his own sorrows to seek his good.
“I have, indeed,” he replied, “endeavored to live a moral life. I wasthe child of godly parents, have been blessed with a pious wife, andam a firm believer in the truths of the gospel; but I know that Ineed more than this--that I must be born again. It is impossible fora man of ordinary intelligence and capacity to follow the sea, as Ihave for more than thirty years, without at times feeling deeply hisaccountability. Oftentimes at sea, and at other times at home, when Mr.Goodhue, a good, faithful man, has talked with me, I have resolved--Ihave resolved to pray, but never have done it; yet I trust I shall.”
“Life is uncertain. We may never meet again. Kneel down with me.”
They knelt together, and Mr. Welch pleaded with his Maker for thesalvation of his friend; and, as they parted, Captain Rhines promisedhim that he would take the matter into serious consideration, andendeavor to pray for himself. “The same energy and resolution, my dearfriend, that carried the Ark through the storms of the Gulf Stream intothe harbor of Havana, and at one stroke won a fortune for yourselfand son, will carry you into the Ark of Safety, and perhaps be thesalvation of your whole family.”
During their stay in Boston, Mr. Welch derived great pleasure fromtalking with Charlie. It was a relief to the heart of the worn andweary old man to listen to the conversation of the fresh-hearted boy,full of hope and buoyancy. He entered into all his plans, and drewfrom him his little secrets, which helped to withdraw him from his owngriefs. Charlie told him about his great disappointment by the wreckof the West Wind, and he didn’t know how it would be, but thought sometime he should try to build a boat with timbers. Aware of Charlie’slove of the soil, and all connected with it, he took him into hisorchard, where his gardener was putting in grafts, and told him to showCharlie how to set them, and also how to bud. The first thing he
said,after he found he could perform the operation, was, “O, how glad fatherand mother will be!”
“I wish he was my boy,” was the thought that arose in the mind of themerchant, as he perceived how love for his adopted parents coloredevery impulse of his heart.
“Has your father got his ground ready for his orchard? If he has, youmight take some trees home with you.”
“No, sir, but he will have it ready in the fall.”
“But haven’t you got some room in the garden, where you could put a fewtrees temporarily, and then take them up?”
“O, yes, sir.”
“Well, you can take home some apple and pear trees that have neverbeen grafted, and the scions, and graft them yourself. It will be goodpractice for you; and then, when you get the ground ready, you can putthem in the orchard. Are there not wild cherry trees and thorn busheson the island?”
“Yes, sir, plenty of both. Lots of cherry trees came up on the burns.”
“Well, you can graft the cherries with cherries, and the thorns withpears.”
“How nice that will be!”
“But you must graft the thorns close to the ground, and bank the earthup around them, that the pear may take root for itself.”
“Why is that, sir?”
“Because the pear will, in a few years, outgrow the thorn bush, andwill break down just as it begins to bear. The pear and the thornfollow their own nature and habits of growth.”
“That is very singular, sir.”
“Yes, but so it is. Look at that apple tree just before us.”
The tree to which Mr. Welch referred had been grafted about two feetfrom the ground when it was little, and the graft jutted over the lowerportions all around three or four inches.
“These trees,” said Mr. Welch, “are both apple trees, but the upper oneis a larger growing variety; still there is not the difference thereis between a thorn bush and a pear tree, so that one breaks the otherdown. It’s just like religion, Charlie; religion don’t alter a person’scolor or size, or give him senses; but it gives him different tastes,turns sour to sweet, and leads him to a better improvement of whatfaculties he already has. Who runs out land down your way, Charlie?”
“Squire Eveleth, sir; but he’s getting quite old and feeble, and can’tgo into the woods; and people often come for father to run land andmeasure timber.”
“Has your father got instruments?”
“He has calipers and a rule to measure timber; but he hires SquireEveleth’s compass and chain when he runs land.”
“Would you like to learn surveying, Charlie?”
“O, yes, sir, I like to learn anything; but I would like to learn thatuncommon well.”
“You might pick up a good deal of money in that way in a new country,where people are always buying and selling land, and the stump leave oftimber.”
“Yes, sir; I suppose I might.”
“When you will write me that you have learned to survey, I will sendyou a compass, and all the instruments you want.”
“I thank you very much indeed, sir; I will get father to learn me thiswinter.”
When Charlie left, Mr. Welch gave him some books that treated ofagriculture, text-books to study surveying, a gauge, bevel, carpenter’spocket rule, and a case of instruments to draw geometrical figures.
“What a pretty craft this is!” said Mr. Welch, as he stood on thewharf to see them off; “she certainly don’t look or smell much like afisherman.”
“She hasn’t been a fishing since last fall,” replied the captain. “Ben,you know, is a deep-water sailor, and keeps to his old notions. Nobody,I guess, ever caught a fisherman holy-stoning his decks, and they don’tslush the masts any higher than they can reach.”
“She’s a beauty; but she seems small to go to the stormy coast ofLabrador, the Bay of Fundy, and those places where fishermen go.”
“Small! Believe me, I would sooner take my chance for life on a leeshore, or lying to in a gale of wind, in her, than in any _ship_ I wasever in. A chebacco boat will beat square to windward where a shipcouldn’t hold her own; lie to and keep dry till all is blue; and drugthem, they will live forever. I served my apprenticeship in a chebaccoboat; I ought to know something about them.”
Having a fair wind, Captain Rhines did not touch at Portland on hisway up to Boston; but going home, he put in there, saw John, and toldhim what disposition he had made of his money, of which John highlyapproved.
The goods they had bought and brought home were put into the mill.Charlie got up his “bee,” built the fish-house and flakes, and Fredsoon covered them with fish. As it took but three good days to make thefish sufficiently to put them in the house, it soon assumed the air ofa business place.
Fred’s stock of goods was so much larger than before, that the store inthe mill was enlarged, additional shelves put up, and many conveniencesadded; he also got rid of trusting anybody, as so large a portion ofhis goods were sold on commission. In order to render it easier to keepaccounts, each one put in separate articles. Teas and tobacco belongedto Captain Rhines; hardware, iron, and nails, to John; molasses, toCharlie; and so on; the smaller articles Fred purchased himself.
Charlie made Fred a sign-board, and he took it to Wiscasset and had itlettered. Every day, often before sunrise, Fred was to be seen takingfish from the pickle and putting them on the flakes, or salting themas they came from the boats, or turning them on the flakes, every nowand then running to the store to wait on some customer.
The good minister recognized the hand of Providence in the afflictionwhich resulted in a new suit from top to toe; yet it may well bedoubted whether he ever again became so fascinated with the study ofnatural history as to pursue it in a goose pen, or to take for hissubject a wild gander.