III ~ THE TAVERN OF THE SEAS

  Now, Mister Macliver, you knows him quite well, He comes upon deck and he cuts a great swell; It's damn your eyes there and it's damn your eyes here, And straight to the gangway he takes a broad sheer. --La Pique "Come-all-ye."

  Into Saturday Cove, all during that late afternoon, they camesurging--spars and tackle limned against the on-sweeping pall of thegray fog--those wayfarers of the open main.

  First to roll in past the ledgy portals of the haven were the venerablesea-wagons--the coasters known as the "Apple-treers." Their weatherwiseskippers, old sea-dogs who could smell weather as bloodhounds snifftrails, had their noses in the air in good season that day, and knewthat they must depend on a thinning wind to cuff them into port. Oneafter the other, barnacled anchors splashed from catheads, draggingrusty chains from hawse-holes, and old, patched sails came sprawlingdown with chuckle of sheaves and lisp of running rigging.

  A 'long-coast shanty explains the nickname, "Apple-treers":

  O, what's the use of compass or a quadrant or a log? Keep her loafin' on her mudhook in a norther or a fog. But as soon's the chance is better, then well ratch her off once more, Keepin' clost enough for bearings from the apple-trees ashore.

  Therefore, the topsail schooners, the fore-and-afters, the Bluenoseblunt-prows, came in early before the fog smooched out the loom ofthe trees and before it became necessary to guess at what the old cardcompasses had to reveal on the subject of courses.

  And so, along with the rest of the coastwise ragtag, which was seekingharbor and holding-ground, came the ancient schooner _Polly_. Fog-maskedby those illusory mists, she was a shadow ship like the others; but,more than the others, she seemed to be a ghost ship, for her lines andher rig informed any well-posted mariner that she must be a centenarian;with her grotesqueness accentuated by the fog pall, she seemed unreal--apicture from the past.

  She had an out-thrust of snub bow and an upcock of square stern, andsag of waist--all of which accurately revealed ripe antiquity, just asa bell-crowned beaver and a swallow-tail coat with brass buttons wouldidentify an old man in the ruck of newer fashions. She had seams likethe wrinkles in the parchment skin of extreme old age. She carried awooden figurehead under her bowsprit, the face and bust of a woman onwhom an ancient woodcarver had bestowed his notion of a beatific smile;the result was an idiotic simper. The glorious gilding had been wornoff, the wood was gray and cracked. The _Polly's_ galley was entirelyhidden under a deckload of shingles and laths in bunches; theafter-house was broad and loomed high above the rail in contrast to themere cubbies which were provided for the other fore-and-afters in theflotilla which came ratching in toward Saturday Cove.

  The _Polly_, being old enough to be celebrated, had been the subject ofa long-coast lyric of seventeen verses, any one of which was capable ofproducing most horrible profanity from Captain Epps Candage, her master,whenever he heard the ditty echoing over the waves, sung by a satiristaboard another craft.

  In that drifting wind there was leisure; a man on board a lime-schoonerat a fairly safe distance from the _Polly_ found inclination and liftedhis voice:

  "Ow-w-w, here comes the _Polly_ with a lopped-down sail, And Rubber-boot Epps, is a-settin' on her rail. How-w-w long will she take to get to Boston town? Can't just tell 'cause she's headin' up and down."

  "You think that kind o' ky-yi is funny, do you, you walnut-nosed,blue-gilled, goggle-eyed son of a dough-faced americaneezus?" bellowedCaptain Candage, from his post at the _Polly's_ wheel.

  "Father!" remonstrated a girl who stood in the companionway, her elbowspropped on the hatch combings. "Such language! You stop it!"

  "It ain't half what I can do when I'm fair started," returned thecaptain.

  "You never say such things on shore."

  "Well, I ain't on shore now, be I? I'm on the high seas, and I'm talkingto fit the occasion. Who's running this schooner, you or me?"

  She met his testiness with a spirit of her own, "I'm on board here,where I don't want to be, because of your silly notions, father. I havethe right to ask you to use decent language, and not shame us both."

  Against the archaically homely background the beauty of the young girlappeared in most striking contrast. Her curls peeped out from under thewhite Dutch cap she wore. Her eyes sparkled with indignant protest, herface was piquant and was just then flushed, and her nose had the leastbit of a natural uptilt, giving her the air of a young woman who had awill of her own to spice her amiability.

  Captain Candage blinked at her over the spokes of the wheel, and in hisfather's heart acknowledged her charm, realizing more acutely thathis motherless girl had become too much of a problem for his limitedknowledge in the management of women.

  He had not seen her grow up gradually, as other fathers had viewed theirdaughters, being able to meet daily problems in molding and mastery.

  She seemed to reach development, mental and physical, in disconcertingphases while he was away on his voyages. Each time he met her he wasobliged to get acquainted all over again, it appeared to him.

  Captain Candage had owned up frankly to himself that he was not able toexercise any authority over his daughter when she was ashore.

  She was not wilful; she was not obstinate; she gave him affection. Butshe had become a young woman while his slow thoughts were classing herstill as a child. She was always ahead of all his calculations. Inhis absences she jumped from stage to stage of character--almost ofidentity! He had never forgotten how he had brought back to her from NewYork, after one voyage, half a gunny sackful of tin toys, and discoveredthat in his absence, by advice and sanction of her aunt, who had becomeher foster-mother, she had let her dresses down to ankle-length and hadbecome a young lady whom he called "Miss Candage" twice before he hadmanaged to get his emotions straightened out. While he was wonderingabout the enormity of tin toys in the gunny sack at his feet, as he satin the aunt's parlor; his daughter asked him to come as guest ofhonor with the Sunday-school class's picnic which she was arranging asteacher. That gave him his opportunity to lie about the toys and allegethat he had brought them for her scholars.

  Captain Candage, on the deck of his ship, found that he was able tomuster a little courage and bluster for a few minutes, but he did notdare to look at her for long while he was asserting himself.

  He looked at her then as she stood in the gloomy companionway, aradiant and rosy picture of healthy maidenhood. But the expression onher face was not comfortingly filial.

  "Father, I must say it again. I can't help saying it. I am so unhappy.You are misjudging me so cruelly."

  "I done it because I thought it was right to do it. I haven't beentending and watching the way a father ought to tend and watch. I neverseemed to be able to ketch up with you. Maybe I ain't right. Maybe I be!At any rate, I'm going to stand on this tack, in your case, for a whilelonger."

  "You have taken me away from my real home for this? This is no place fora girl! You are not the same as you are when you are on shore. I didn'tknow you could be so rough--and--wicked!"

  "Hold on there, daughter! Snub cable right there! I'm an honest,God-fearing, hard-working man--paying a hundred cents on the dollar, andyou know it."

  "But what did you just shout--right out where everybody could hear you?"

  "That--that was only passing the compliments of the day as compared withwhat I can do when I get started proper. Do you think I'm going to letany snub-snooted wart-hog of a lime-duster sing--"

  "Father!"

  "What's a girl know about the things a father has to put up with when hegoes to sea and earns money for her?"

  "I am willing to work for myself. You took me right out of my goodposition in the millinery-store. You have made me leave all my youngfriends. Oh, I am so homesick!" Her self-reliance departed suddenly. Shechoked. She tucked her head into the hook of her arm and sobbed.

  "Don't do that!" he pleaded, softening suddenly. "Please
don't, Polly!"

  She looked up and smiled--a pleading, wan little smile. "I didn't meanto give way to it, popsy dear. I don't intend to do anything to make youangry or sorry. I have tried to be a good girl. I am a good girl. But itbreaks my heart when you don't trust me."

  "They were courting you," he stammered. "Them shore dudes was hangingaround you. I ain't doubting you, Polly. But you 'ain't got no mother.I was afraid. I know I've been a fool about it. But I was afraid!" Tearssprinkled his bronzed cheeks. "I haven't been much of a father becauseI've had to go sailing and earn money. But I thought I'd take you awaytill-till I could sort of plan on something."

  She gazed at him, softening visibly.

  "Oh, Polly," he said, his voice breaking, "you don't know how pretty youare-you don't know how afraid I am!"

  "But you can trust me, father," she promised, after a pause, with simpledignity. "I know I am only a country girl, not wise, perhaps, but I knowwhat is right and what is wrong. Can't you understand how terribly youhave hurt my pride and my self-respect by forcing me to come and bepenned up here as if I were a shameless girl who could not take care ofherself?"

  "I reckon I have done wrong, Polly. But I don't know much-not aboutwomen folk. I was trying to do right-because you're all I have in thisworld."

  "I hope you will think it all over," she advised, earnestly. "You willunderstand after a time, father, I'm sure. Then you will let me go backand you will trust me-as your own daughter should be trusted. That's theright way to make girls good-let them know that they can be trusted."

  "You are probably right," he admitted. "I will think it all over.As soon as we get in and anchored I'll sit down and give it a goodoverhauling in my mind. Maybe-"

  She took advantage of his pause. "We are going into a harbor, are we,father?"

  "Yes. Right ahead of us."

  "I wish you would put me ashore and send me back. I shall lose myposition in the store if I stay away too long."

  His obstinacy showed again, promptly. "I don't want you in thatmillinery-shop. I'm told that dude drummers pester girls in stores."

  "They do not trouble me, father. Haven't you any confidence in your owndaughter?"

  "Yes, I have," he said, firmly, and then added, "but I keep thinking ofthe dudes and then I get afraid."

  She gave him quick a glance, plainly tempted to make an impatientretort, and then turned and went down into the cabin.

  "Don't be mad with me, Polly," he called after her. "I guess, maybe, I'mall wrong. I'm going to think it over; I ain't promising nothing sure,but it won't be none surprising if I set you ashore here and send youback home. Don't cry, little girl." There were tears in his voice aswell as in his eyes.

  The lime-schooner vocalist felt an impulse to voice another verse:

  "Ow-w-w, here comes the _Polly_ in the middle of the road, Towed by a mule and paving-blocks her load. Devil is a-waiting and the devil may as well, 'Cause he'll never get them paving-blocks to finish paving hell."

  Captain Candage left his wheel and strode to the rail. All the softnesswas gone from his face and his voice.

  "You horn-jawed, muck-faced jezebo of a sea-sculpin, you dare to yapout any more of that sculch and I'll come aboard you after we anchor andjump down your gullet and gallop the etarnal innards out of ye! Don'tyou know that I've got ladies aboard here?"

  "It don't sound like it," returned the songster.

  "Well, you hear what _I_ sound like! Half-hitch them jaw taakuls ofyours!"

  Captain Candage's meditations were not disturbed after that.

  With the assistance of his one helper aboard ship, "Oakum Otie," a grayand whiskered individual who combined in one person the various officesof first mate, second mate, A-1 seaman, and hand before the mast-aswell as the skipper's boon companion-the _Polly_ was manoeuvered to heranchorage in Saturday Cove and was snugged for the night. Smoke began tocurl in blue wreaths from her galley funnel, and there were occasionalglimpses of the cook, a sallow-complexioned, one-eyed youth whose chiefand everlasting decoration provided him with the nickname of "Smut-nosedDolph."

  Then came some of the ocean aristocrats to join the humbler guests inthat tavern of the seas.

  Avant couriers of a metropolitan yacht club, on its annual cruise,arrived, jockeying in with billowing mountains of snowy canvas spread tocatch the last whispers of the breeze. Later arrivals, after the breezefailed, were towed in by the smart motor craft of the fleet. One by one,as the anchors splashed, brass cannons barked salute and were answeredby the commodore's gun.

  Captain Candage sat on the edge of the _Polly's_ house and snappedan involuntary and wrathful wink every time a cannon banged. In thathill-bound harbor, where the fog had massed, every noise was magnifiedas by a sounding-board. There were cheery hails, yachtsmen bawled overthe mist-gemmed brass rails interchange of the day's experiences, andfrisking yacht tenders, barking staccato exhausts, began to carry men toand fro on errands of sociability. In the silences Captain Candage couldhear the popping of champagne corks.

  "Them fellers certainly live high and sleep in the garret," observedOakum Otie. He was seated cross-legged on the top of the house and washammering down the lumps in a freshly twisted eye-splice with the end ofa marlinespike.

  "It has always been a wonder to me," growled Captain Candage, "how dudeswho don't seem to have no more wit than them fellows haw-hawing overthere, and swigging liquor by the cart-load, ever make money the waythey do so as to afford all this."

  On that point Captain Candage might have found Mate McGaw of the_Olenia_ willing to engage in profitable discussion and amicableunderstanding!

  "They don't make it-they don't know enough to make it," stated Otie,with the conviction of a man who knew exactly what he was talking about."It has all been left to 'em by their fathers."

  The bearded and brown men of the apple-tree crews leaned the patchedelbows of their old coats on the rails and gloomily surveyed theconviviality on board the plaything crafts. Remarks which they exchangedwith one another were framed to indicate a sort of lofty scorn for thesefrolickers of the sea. The coasting skippers, most of whom wore hardhats, as if they did not want to be confounded with those foppish yachtcaptains, patrolled their quarter-decks and spat disdainfully over theirrails.

  Everlastingly there was the clank of pumps on board the Apple-treers,and the pumps were tackling the everlasting leaks. Water reddenedby contact with bricks, water made turbid by percolation throughpaving-blocks, splashed continuously from hiccuping scuppers.

  Captain Ranse Lougee of the topsail schooner _Belvedere_, laden withfish scraps for a Boston glue-factory, dropped over the counter into hisdory and came rowing to the _Polly_, standing up and facing forward andswaying with the fisherman's stroke.

  He straddled easily over the schooner's scant freeboard and came aft,and was greeted cordially by Captain Candage.

  "Thought I'd show them frosted-cakers that there's a little sociabilityamongst the gents in the coasting trade, too," he informed hishost. "Furthermore, I want to borry the ex-act time o' day. _And_,furthermore, I'm glad to get away from that cussed aromy on board the_Belvedere_ and sort of air out my nose once in a while. What's the goodword, Cap?"

  Captain Candage replied to the commonplaces of the other skipper inabstracted fashion. He had viewed Lougee's approach with interest, andnow he was plainly pondering in regard to something wholly outside thischatter.

  "Captain Lougee," he broke in, suddenly, in low tones, "I want youshould come forward with me out of hearing of anybody below. I've got alittle taakul I want you to help me overhaul."

  The two walked forward over the deckload and sat on the fore-gaff, whichsprawled carelessly where it had fallen when the halyards were let run.

  "My daughter is below, there," explained Captain Candage.

  "Vacation trip, eh?"

  "I don't think it can be called that, Captain Lougee," stated the host,dryly. "She is having about as good a time as a canary-bird would havein a corn-popper over a hot
fire."

  "What did she come for, then?"

  "I made her come. I shanghaied her."

  "That's no way to treat wimmen folks," declared Captain Lougee. "I'veraised five daughters and I know what I'm talking about."

  "I know you have raised five girls, and they're smart as tophet andright as a trivet--and that's why I have grabbed right in on the subjectas I have. I was glad to see you coming aboard, Captain Lougee. I wantsome advice from a man who knows."

  "Then I'm the man to ask, Captain Candage."

  "Last time I was home--where she has been living with her Aunt Zilpah--Iketched her!" confessed Candage. His voice was hoarse. His fingers, bentand calloused with rope-pulling, trembled as he fingered the seam of histrousers.

  "You don't tell!" Lougee clucked, solicitously.

  "Yes, I ketched her buggy-riding!"

  "Alone?"

  "No, there was a gang of 'em in a beach-wagon. They was going to aparty. And I ketched her dancing with a fellow at that party."

  "Well, go ahead now that you've got started! Shake out the mainsail!"

  "That's about all there is to it--except that a fellow has been beauingher home from Sunday-school concerts with a lantern. Yes, I reckon thatis about all to date and present writing," confessed Candage.

  "What else do you suspect?"

  "Nothing. Of course, there's no telling what it will grow to be--withdudes a-pestering her the way they do."

  "There ain't any telling about anything in this world, is there?"demanded Captain Lougee, very sharply.

  "I reckon not--not for sure!"

  "Do you mean to say that because your girl--like any girl should--hasbeen having a little innocent fun with young folks, you have dragged heron board this old hooker, shaming her and making her ridiculous?"

  "I have been trying to do my duty as a father," stated Captain Candage,stoutly, and avoiding the flaming gaze of his guest.

  Captain Lougee straightened his leg so as to come at his trouserspocket, produced a plug of tobacco, and gnawed a chew off a corner,after careful inspection to find a likely spot for a bite.

  "I need to have something in my mouth about this time--somethingsoothing to the tongue and, as you might say, sort of confining, so thattoo much language won't bu'st out all at once," he averred, speakingwith effort as he tried to lodge the huge hunk of tobacco into acomfortable position. "I have raised five nice girls, and I have alwaystreated 'em as if they had common sense along with woman's nat'ralgoodness and consid'able more self-reliance than a Leghorn pullet. AndI used 'em like they had the ordinary rights and privileges of humanbeings. And they are growed up and a credit to the family. And I haven'tgot to look back over my record and reflect that I was either a Chinymanor a Turkeyman. No, sir! I have been a father--and my girls can comeand sit on my knee to-day and get my advice, and think it's worthsomething."

  He rose and walked toward his dory.

  "But hold on," called Captain Candage. "You haven't told me what youthink."

  "Haven't I? I thought I had, making it mild and pleasant. But if youneed a little something more plain and direct, I'll remark--still makingit mild and pleasant--that you're a damned old fool! And now I'll goback and be sociable with them fish scraps. I believe they will smellbetter after this!" He leaped into his dory and rowed away.

  Captain Candage offered no rejoinder to that terse and meaty summing up.Naturally, he was as ready with his tongue as Captain Ranse Lougee orany other man alongshore. But in this case the master of the _Polly_was not sure of his ground. He knew that Captain Lougee had qualified asfather of five. In the judgment of a mariner experience counts. Andhe did not resent the manner of Captain Lougee because that skipper'sbrutal bluntness was well known by his friends. Captain Candage hadasked and he had received. He rested his elbows on his knees and staredafter the departing caller and pondered.

  "Maybe he is right. He probably _is_ right. But it wouldn't be shipboarddiscipline if I told her that I have been wrong. I reckon I'll go aftand be pleasant and genteel, hoping that nothing will happen to rile myfeelings. Now that my feelings are calm and peaceful, and having takencourse and bearings from a father of five, I'll probably say to her,'You'd better trot along home, sissy, seeing that I have told you how tomind your eye after this.'"