In the Days of Poor Richard

  CHAPTER IV

  THE CROSSING

  There were curious events in the voyage of Jack and Solomon. The dateof the letter above referred to would indicate that they sailed on orabout the eleventh of October, 1773. Their ship was _The Snow_ whichhad arrived the week before with some fifty Irish servants, indenturedfor their passage. These latter were, in a sense, slaves placed inbondage to sundry employers by the captain of the ship for a term ofyears until the sum due to the owners for their transportation had beenpaid--a sum far too large, it would seem.

  Jack was sick for a number of days after the voyage began but Solomon,who was up and about and cheerful in the roughest weather, having spenta part of his youth at sea, took care of his young friend. Jack tellsin a letter that he was often awakened in the night by vermin and everymorning by the crowing of cocks. Those days a part of every ship wasknown as "the hen coops" where ducks, geese and chickens were confined.They came in due time through the butcher shop and the galley to thecabin table. The cook was an able, swearing man whose culinaryexperience had been acquired on a Nantucket whaler. Cooks who couldstand up for service every day in a small ship on an angry sea when thegalley rattled like a dice box in the hands of a nervous player, werehard to get. Their constitutions were apt to be better than their art.The food was of poor quality, the cooking a tax upon jaw, palate anddigestion, the service unclean. When good weather came, by and by, andthose who had not tasted food for days began to feel the pangs ofhunger the ship was filled with a most passionate lot of pilgrims. Itwas then that Solomon presented the petition of the passengers to thecaptain.

  "Cap'n, we're 'bout wore out with whale meat an' slobgollion. We'reall down by the head."

  "So'm I," said the Captain. "This 'ere man had a good recommend an'said he could cook perfect."

  "A man like that kin cook the passengers with their own heat," saidSolomon. "I feel like my belly was full o' hot rocks. If you'll letme into the galley, I'll right ye up an' shift the way o' the wind an'the course o' the ship. I'll swing the bow toward Heaven 'stead o'Hell an' keep her p'inted straight an' it won't cost ye a penny.They's too much swearin' on this 'ere ship. Can't nobody be aChristian with his guts a-b'ilin'. His tongue'll break loose an' makehis soul look like a waggin with a smashed wheel an' a bu'sted ex. Acook could do more good here than a minister."

  "Can you cook?"

  "You try me an' I'll agree to happy ye up so ye won't know yerself.Yer meat won't be raw ner petrified an' there won't be no insecks inthe biscuit."

  "He'll make a row."

  "I hope so. Leave him to me. I'm a leetle bit in need o' exercise,but ye needn't worry. I know how to manage him--perfect. You comewith me to the galley an' tell him to git out of it. I'll do the rest."

  Solomon's advice was complied with. The cook--Thomas Crowpot byname--was ordered out of the galley. The sea cook is said to be thefather of profanity. His reputation has come down through the agesuntarnished, it would seem, by any example of philosophical moderation.Perhaps it is because, in the old days, his calling was a hard one andonly those of a singular recklessness were willing to engage in it._The Snow's_ cook was no exception. He was a big, brawny, black Yankeewith a claw foot look in his eyes. Profanity whizzed through the opendoor like buckshot from a musket. He had been engaged for the voyageand would not give up his job to any man.

  "Don't be so snappish," said Solomon. Turning to the Captain he added:"Don't ye see here's the big spring. This 'ere man could blister abull's heel by talkin' to it. He's hidin' his candle. This ain't nojob fer him. I say he orto be promoted."

  With an outburst still profane but distinctly milder the cook wished toknow what they meant.

  Solomon squinted with his rifle eye as if he were taking careful aim ata small mark.

  "Why, ye see we passengers have been swearin' stiddy fer a week," hedrawled. "We're wore out. We need a rest. You're a trained swearer.Ye do it perfect. Ye ortn't to have nothin' else to do. We want youto go for'ard an' find a comf'table place an' set down an' do all theswearin' fer the hull ship from now on. You'll git yer pay jest thesame as if ye done the cookin'. It's a big job but I guess ye're ekalto it. I'll agree that they won't nobody try to grab it. Ye may havea little help afore the mast but none abaft."

  This unexpected proposition calmed the cook. The prospect of full payand nothing to do pleased him. He surrendered.

  An excellent dinner was cooked and served that day. The lobscouse madeof pork, fowl and sliced potatoes was a dish to remember. But theformer cook got a line of food calculated to assist him in theperformance of his singular duty. Happiness returned to the ship andSolomon was cheered when at length he came out of the galley. Officersand passengers rendered him more homage after that than they paid tothe rich and famous Mr. Girard who was among their number. That daythis notice was written on the blackboard:

  "Thomas Crowpot has been engaged to do all the swearing that'snecessary on this voyage. Any one who needs his services will find himon the forward deck. Small and large jobs will be attended to whileyou wait."