CHAPTER XIX.
THE ADVENTURES OF AN INVALID.
Mr. Cornwood had been very polite and pliable all day, and his skill asa pilot won my commendation. When he expressed a desire to remain onshore, at the wharf, I did not object. As soon as the anchor was letgo, all hands were piped to supper; but I was in no condition to takeanother meal that day, after the dinner with the excursionists, fromwhich I had risen an hour before. I was glad to be alone in mystate-room, after the excitement of the day. In spite of what hadtranspired in the morning, and in spite of the evidence obtained byWashburn in regard to the snake, I could not help wondering if, afterall, the pilot was not innocent of any evil intentions.
It seemed to me that a man of his education, having a profession, couldnot take part in any small conspiracy, such as Captain Boomsby would belikely to get up. If either Cornwood or Griffin Leeds, his agent,intended to do me any harm, it seemed to me they had had abundantopportunity to do it already. The pilot might have wrecked the vessel,and the waiter might have poisoned the food I ate. I resolved to bevery careful how I charged Cornwood with any evil, unless it wascapable of being proved.
"I should like to go on shore, Alick, if you have nothing better for meto do," said Washburn, coming into my room when he had finished hissupper.
"I have nothing for you to do," I replied. "What's up now?"
"I have some curiosity to know what has become of Cobbington; and Ithink I shall call upon his landlord," replied the mate, laughing.
"I will go with you, if you have no objection," I added.
"I should be glad of your company," said he, leading the way to thegangway. "Hold on a minute, captain," he added, when I began to ordermy boat. "There is the boatman that carried off Cornwood's letter. Heis looking for a job: suppose we give him one?"
I did not object, and the mate hailed the boatman. We seated ourselvesin his boat, and he pulled for the shore. Our uniforms gave us greatdistinction among the colored people. Very likely some of them thoughtwe were United States naval officers: at any rate, they all treated uswith "distinguished consideration."
"What's your name, boatman?" asked Washburn.
"Moses Dripple," replied the man.
"Well, Moses Dripple, were you alongside our steamer last evening?"continued the mate.
"Yes, sar; made a quarter taking a letter ashore," answered Moses,showing teeth enough for a full-grown alligator.
"Put it in the post-office, did you?" inquired Washburn, indifferently,as he looked behind him at the steamer.
"No, sar; didn't put it into the post-office; car'ed it to asaloon-keeper, and he gave me a drink of apple-jack, as soon as he hadread it, for bringin' de letter."
"Is it possible that you drink apple-jack?" asked the mate, with someobservations on the folly of drinking liquor.
"Drink it when I git it, sar."
"Where did you get your apple-jack?"
"At de saloon; where else would I get it, sar?"
"I suppose it made you so boozy you don't know where the saloon was,"added the mate, keeping up his indifference, as though his talk wasmere banter.
"It was de new saloon, sar; not boozy at all, sar; Captain Boomsbykeeps dat saloon. Mighty mean man, Captain Boomsby. As soon as he doneread de letter, he put on his coat, and left de saloon."
That was all that Washburn cared to know--that the letter from Cornwoodhad gone to Captain Boomsby; and he bestowed a look of triumph upon me.I paid the boatman a quarter, and we walked up to Bay Street. We hadhardly turned the corner before we came plump upon a man who seemed tobe very anxious to meet my friend and companion. I had never seen himbefore.
"Mr. Cobbington, this is Captain Garningham, of the steamer Sylvania,"said Washburn, chuckling.
"How do you do, Mr. Cobbington," I replied.
"How are you, captain: I'm glad to see both of you," repliedCobbington. "One of you has got me into a bad scrape, for this morning,Gavett, the man I boarded with, turned me out of his house because Ihad a moccasin snake in a box in my room."
"Rough on you, was he?" added the mate.
"Mighty rough! I have been looking for another room all day, and Ican't get one. I've got to sleep out-doors to-night," repliedCobbington, with a very long face.
"You shouldn't keep poisonous snakes in your room," I added.
"He never would have known it if this man hadn't told him," said thesnake-man, turning to the mate. "I don't know your name, but you got meinto a very bad scrape for an invalid; and that's the reason why I amdown in Florida, instead of at home where I could earn a decentliving," whined Cobbington. "I shall die in a week, if I have to sleepout in the night-air: and I don't know of even a shed to get under."
"It was no more than right to tell a man you had a poisonous reptile inhis house," added Washburn. "The snake might have got out, and bittenhis wife and children."
"Early this morning I paid Gavett the last dollar I had for the rent ofthe room; and I haven't had a mouthful to eat since I had my breakfast.How long can an invalid live, sleeping out-doors, with nothing to eat?"added Cobbington.
I saw the tears roll down the thin cheeks of the man, and my sympathieswere excited. I saw it was the same with Washburn.
"I have been in to see Captain Boomsby; I had a room in his house for awhile, and always paid for it. He wouldn't let me sleep on the floor inone of his empty chambers, nor give me anything to eat," continued thepoor wretch.
"You shall have something to eat, and a place to sleep," I said.
We went over the way to Lyman's restaurant with him, and I ordered asirloin steak and fried potatoes for him, with other food. When itcame, he devoured it like a starving man. Whatever other lies he hadtold, it was the truth that he was very hungry.
"That is the best meal I have eaten since I came into Florida," said hewith emphasis, when he had drained his coffee-cup. "Gentlemen, I ammore than grateful to you. I have struggled hard to keep my soul andbody together, and I've done it so far, though there isn't much left ofmy body. I could live here, if I could earn enough to live on. You havebeen kind to me; and now I'm going to tell you something: I have nomoccasin-snake, and I never had one, say nothing of two. I know I'm aliar; but I told that lie for a dollar Boomsby gave me for telling it,so that I need not be turned out of my room. If I had that Judasdollar, I would send it back to Boomsby, and die with a cleanconscience."
"It never pays to do wrong," I added, deeply moved by the invalid'sstory.
"I told Gavett I had no snake; but he turned me out, all the same. Ishowed him everything I had; and he could find no box for the snake:only a lot of baby alligators, that won't hurt anybody. I make aquarter now and then by selling them to the children at the hotels. Ihad to sell my gun I used to shoot alligators with for their teeth; mybest clothes are pawned; and my trunk is about as empty as my stomachwas half an hour ago. I have got about to the end of my rope; and Idon't know what will become of me."
"We will see what we can do for you, Mr. Cobbington," I added. "Whatwas your business at home?"
"I have done almost everything. I was brought up on a farm, and had apretty good education. My father and mother both died, and my brotherfollowed them, all in consumption. I went to teaching school, for welost the farm, and I had to take care of myself before I was twenty. Myhealth gave out, and I tried to work on a farm, but I wasn't strongenough. Then I went to tending table at a summer hotel, and saved abouta hundred dollars. A man told me I should get well if I came toFlorida. I thought I could make my living here, and I came. I brought agun with me, and went into the woods. I shot deer, wild turkeys, andalligators. I sold the game and the teeth, and got along pretty well inthe winter. Last summer I spent all the money I had left in coming downhere. My health was pretty good then. I sold my gun for sixty dollars,half what it was worth, and did jobbing enough to keep me alive. Iworked as a waiter on a steamer, in place of a sick man, for a month,and left the boat at Silver Spring, where the man took his place. Ihired a gun, and tried to get a living by shooting
again; but Icouldn't find a market for the game. I had to give it up.
"I had a lot of alligators' teeth, a rattlesnake, which a gentleman ona steamer offered to give me ten dollars for in Jacksonville, and Iworked my way down here. I sold the teeth; but the man that wanted therattlesnake was at St. Augustine, and I had to wait till he came back,on his way north. Boomsby's wife turned me out when she found shedidn't like me, and they killed the snake at the St. Johns. I couldn'tstay there any longer now I had lost the ten dollars for the snake. Mymoney was all gone; but I picked up a little selling babies."
"Selling babies!" exclaimed Washburn.
"Baby alligators, I mean," added Cobbington, with a languid smile. "Myhealth was good while I was in the woods; I don't have any cough now,but I've been running down lately."
Poor fellow! My heart was touched for him. It was hard to grub for abare subsistence, with the immediate prospect of dying in the street.Washburn looked expressively at me, and I nodded to him. We rose fromthe table, and told Cobbington to come with us. We took him to aclothing-house, fitted him out with a new suit, yacht-club style, witha white canvas cap like my own, except the gold band. We supplied himwith under-clothing, and with everything he needed, even tohandkerchiefs, socks, and shoes. Having obtained these, one-half of thecost of which Washburn insisted upon paying, we next visited abath-house, where the invalid "washed and was clean." He then clothedhimself in the new clothes, and came out of the bath-room looking likeanother person.
We went to the wharf, where we obtained a boat, and in a few minutes wewere on board. I formally engaged the man to take the place of GriffinLeeds, as the waiter at the mess in the forward cabin. He had served inthis capacity in an hotel, and on steamers on the St. Johns andOcklawaha rivers. I gave him a berth in the forward cabin. I think hewas happy when he turned into it.
On Sunday I went to church in St. James Square, and called upon Owen asI came out. Colonel Shepard informed me that he had chartered a steamerthat plied on the Ocklawaha at times, to take us anywhere that asteamer could go. She was small, but large enough for our party.
I dined with the family and their guests, and went on board in theafternoon. The steward was entirely satisfied with the manner in whichCobbington had discharged his duties, and the invalid was the happiestman I had seen in the Land of Flowers.