COLLECTION 
 
 OF 
 
 BRITISH AUTHORS. 
 
 VOL. VI. 
 
 JACOB FAITHFUL BY CAPT. MAMYAT. 
 
 IN ONE VOLUME. 
 
JACOB FAITHFUL. 
 
 BV 
 
 CAPTAIN MARRYAT, R. N. f . R. 
 
 WITH THE PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
 LEIPZIG 
 
 BERNH. TAUCHNITZ J U N. 
 1842. 
 
JACOB 
 
 FAITHFUL. 
 
 B 
 
 0 0 K I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 My biith , parentage , and family pretensions. Unfortunately I prove 
 to he a detrimental or younger son, which is remedied by a trifling 
 accident. — 1 hartUy receive the first elements of science from my 
 father, vhen the elements conspire against me, and 1 am left an 
 orphan. 
 
 Oen'tle reader, I was born upon the water — not upon the 
 salt and angry ocean, but upon the fresh and rapid-flowing river. 
 It was in a floating sort of box, cafled a lighter, and upon the river 
 Thames, at low water, that I first smelt the mud. This lighter 
 was manned (an expression amounting to buUism, if not construed 
 kind-ly) by my father, my mother, and your humble servant. 
 My father had the sole charge — he was monarch of the deck ; my 
 mother of course was queen , and I was the heir apparent. 
 
 Before I say one word about myself, allow me dutifully to de- 
 scribe my parents. First, then , I wifl portray my queen mother. 
 Report says , that when first she came on board of the lighter, a 
 lighter figure and a lighter step never pressed a plank; but as far 
 as I can tax my recollection , she was always a fat , unwieldy wo- 
 man. Locomotion was not to her taste — gin was. She seldom 
 ({uitted the cabin — never quitted the lighter: a pair of shoes may 
 have lasted her for five years , for the wear and tear that she took 
 out of them. Being of this domestic habit , as all married women 
 ought to be , she was always to bo found when wanted ; but , al- 
 
 Jacob FailhfuL \ 
 
2 
 
 though always at hand , she was not always on her feet. Towards 
 the close of the day, she lay down upon her bed — a wise pre- 
 caution when a person can no longer stand. The fact was , that 
 my honoured mother, although her virtue was unimpeachable, 
 was frequently seduced by liquor; and although constant to my 
 father, was debauched and to be found in bed with that insidious 
 assailer of female uprightness — gin. The lighter, which might 
 have been compared to another garden of Eden , of which my mo- 
 ther was the Eve , and my father the Adam to consort with , was 
 entered by this serpent who tempted her; and if she did not eat, 
 she drank , which was even worse. At first , indeed — and I may 
 mention it to prove how the enemy always gains admittance under 
 a specious form — she drank it only to keep the cold out of her 
 stomach, which the humid atmoshpere from the surrounding water 
 appeared to warrant. My father took his pipe for the same reason ; 
 but , at the time that I was born , he smoked and she drank , from 
 morning to night , because habit had rendered it almost necessary 
 to their existence. The pipe was always to his lips, the glass in- 
 cessantly to hers. I would have defied any cold ever to have pe- 
 netrated into their stomachs ; — but I have said enough of my mo- 
 ther for the present ; I will now pass on to my father. 
 
 My father was a puffy, round-bellied, long-armed, little man, 
 admirably calculated for his station in, or rather out of, society. 
 He could manage a lighter as well as any body ; but he could do no 
 more. He had been brought up to it from his infancy. He went 
 on shore for my mother, and came on board again — the only re- 
 markable event in his life. His whole amusement was his pipe; 
 and, as there is a certain indefinable link between smoking and 
 philosophy, my father, by dint of smoking, had become a per- 
 fect philosopher. It is no less strange than true , that we can pufT 
 away our cares with tobacco, when, without it, they remain an 
 oppressive burthen to existence. There is no composing draught 
 like the draught through the tube of a pipe. The savage warriors 
 of North America enjoyed the blessing before we did; and to the 
 pipe is to be ascribed the wisdom of their councils , and the laconic 
 delivery of their sentiments. It would be well introduced into our 
 own legislative assembly. Ladies , indeed , would no longer peep 
 
3 
 
 down through the ventilator; but we should have more sense and 
 fewer words. It is also to tobacco that is to be ascribed the stoical 
 firmness of those American warriors , who , satisfied with the pipe 
 in their mouths , submitted with perfect indifference to the torture 
 of their enemies. From the well-known virtues of this weed 
 arose that peculiar expression , when you irritate another , that you 
 **put his pipe out.'* 
 
 My father's pipe, literally and metaphorically , was never put 
 out. He had a few apophthegms which brought every disaster to a 
 happy conclusion ; and, as he seldom or never indulged in words, 
 these sayings were deeply impressed upon my infant memory. One 
 was, *'It 's no use crying; what 's done can't be helped." 
 When once these words escaped his lips , the subject was never 
 renewed. Nothing appeared to move him : the adjurations of those 
 employed in the other lighters, barges, vessels, and boats of 
 every description , who were contending with us for the extra foot 
 of water, as we drifted up or down with the tide , affected him not, 
 further than an extra column or two of smoke rising from the bowl 
 of his pipe. To my mother, , he used but one expression , *'Take 
 it coolly;" but it always had the contrary effect with my mother, 
 as it put her more in a passion. It was like pouring oil upon flame ; 
 nevertheless, the advice was good, had it ever been followed. 
 Another favourite expression of my father's, when any thing went 
 wrong, and which was of the same pattern as the rest of his philo- 
 sophy, was, *'Better luck next time." These aphorisms 
 were deeply impressed upon my memory. I continually recalled 
 them to mind, and thus I became a philosopher long before my 
 wise teeth were in embryo , or I had even shed the first set with 
 which kind Nature presents us, that in the petticoat age we may 
 fearlessly indulge in lollipop. 
 
 My father's education had been neglected. He could neither 
 write nor read ; but although he did not exactly , like Cadmus , in- 
 vent letters, he had accustomed himself to certain hieroglyphics, 
 generally speaking sufficient for his purposes , and which might be 
 considered as an artificial memory. **I can't write nor read, 
 Jacob," he would say; *' I wish I could; but look, boy, I means 
 this mark for three quarters of a bushel. Mind you recollects it 
 
 1* 
 
4 
 
 when I axes you, or I '11 be blowed if I don't wallop you." But it 
 was only a case of peculiar difficulty which would require a new 
 hieroglyphic , or extract such a long speech from my father. I 
 was well acquainted with his usual scratches and dots , and having 
 a good memory , could put him right when he was puzzled with 
 some misshapen x or z , representing some unknown quantity, like 
 the same letters in algebra. 
 
 I have said that I was heir apparent , but I did not say that I 
 was the only child born to my father in his wedlock. My honoured 
 mother had had two more children ; but the first, who was a girl, 
 had been provided for by a fit of the measles ; and the second , my 
 eld,er brother, by tumbling over the stern of the lighter when he 
 was three years old. At the time of the accident, my mother had 
 retired to her bed , a little the worse for liquor; my father was on 
 deck forward , leaning against the windlass , soberly smoking his 
 evening pipe. What was that?" exclaimed my father, taking 
 his pipe out of his mouth, and listening; '* I shouldn't wonder if 
 it wasn't Joe." And my father put in his pipe again , and smoked 
 away as before. 
 
 My father was correct in his surmises. It was Joe — who had 
 made the splash which roused him from his meditations, for the 
 next morning Joe was no where to be found. He was, however, 
 found some days afterwards; but, as the newspapers say, and 
 as may well be imagined, the vital spark was extinct;" and 
 moreover, the eels and chubs had eaten off his nose and a portion 
 of his chubby face, so that, as my father said ''he was of no use 
 to nobody." The morning after the accident, my father was up 
 early and had missed poor little Joe. He went into the cabin, 
 smoked his pipe , and said nothing. As my brother did not appear 
 as usual for his breakfast , my mother called ou't for him in a harsh 
 voice; but Joe was out of hearing, and as mute as a fish. Joe 
 opened not his mouth in reply, neither did my father. My mother 
 then quitted the cabin , and walked round the lighter, looked into 
 the dog kennel to ascertain if he was asleep with the great mastilf 
 — but Joe was nowhere to be found. 
 
 "Why, what can have become of Joe?" cried my mother, with 
 maternal alarm in her countenance , appealing to my father, as she 
 
5 
 
 hastened back to the cabin. My father spoke not, but taking his 
 pipe out of his mouth , dropped the bowl of it in a perpendicular 
 direction till it landed softly on the deck, then put it into his mouth 
 again , and puffed mournfully. " Why, you don't mean to say that 
 he is overboard?" screamed my mother. 
 
 My father nodded his head , and puffed away at an accumulated 
 rate. A torrent of tears, exclamations, and revilings, succeeded 
 to this characteristic announcement. My father allowed my mother 
 to exhaust herself. By the time that she had finished , so was his 
 pipe ; he then knocked out the ashes , and quietly observed , It 's 
 no use crying; what 's done can't be helped," and proceeded to 
 refill the bowl. 
 
 Can't be helped!" cried my mother; **but it might have 
 been helped." 
 
 '*Take it coolly," replied my father. 
 
 *'Take it coolly!" replied my mother in a rage — **take it 
 coolly ! Yes , you 're for taking every thing coolly : I presume , if I 
 fell overboard , you would be taking it coolly." 
 
 *' You would be taking it coolly, at all events ," replied my im- 
 perturbable father. 
 
 "0 dear! 0 dear!" cried my poor mother; **two poor 
 children , and lost them both ! '* 
 
 *' Bettor luck next time," rejoined my father; **no, Sail, say 
 no more about it." 
 
 My father continued for some time to smoke his pipe , and my 
 mother to pipe her eye , until at last my father , who was really a 
 kind-hearted man , rose from the chest upon which he was seated, 
 went to the cupboard, poured out a teacup-ful of gi n , and handed 
 it to my mother. It was kindly done of him, and my mother was to 
 be won by kindness. It was a pure offering in the spirit , and taken 
 in the spirit in which it was offered. After a few repetitions, which 
 were rendered necessary from its potency being diluted with her 
 tears, grief and recollection were drowned together, and disap- 
 peared like two lovers jvho sink down entwined in each other's 
 arms. 
 
 With this beautiful metaphor, I shall wind up the episode of 
 my unfortunate brother Joe. 
 
6 
 
 It was about a year after the loss of my brother, that I was 
 ushered into the world without any other assistants or spectators 
 than my father and Dame Nature , who I believe to be a very clever 
 midwife, if not interfered with. My father, who had some faint 
 ideas of Christianity , performed the baptismal rites, by crossing 
 me on the forehead with the end of his pipe , and calling me Jacob : 
 as for my mother being churched , she had never been but once to 
 church in her life. In fact, my father and mother never quitted the 
 lighter , unless when the former was called out by the superinten- 
 dent or proprietor, at the delivery or shipment of a cargo, or was 
 once a month for a few minutes on shore to purchase necessaries. 
 1 cannot recall much of my infancy : but I recollect that the lighter 
 was often very brilliant with blue and red paint, and that my 
 mother used to point it out to me as so pretty," to keep me quiet. 
 I shall therefore pass it over, and commence at the age of five 
 years, at which early period I was of some little use to my father. 
 Indeed , I was almost as forward as some boys at ten. This may 
 appear strange; but the fact is , that my ideas, although bounded, 
 were concentrated. The lighter, its equipments, and its destina- 
 tion, were the microcosm of my infant imagination; and my ideas 
 and thoughts being directed to so few objects , these objects were 
 deeply impressed , and their value fully understood. Up to the 
 time that 1 quitted the lighter , at eleven years old , the banks of the 
 river were the boundaries of my speculations. I certainly com- 
 prehended something of the nature of trees and houses ; but I do 
 not think that I was aware that the former grew. From the time 
 that I could recollect them on the banks of the river, they appeared 
 to be exactly of the same size as they were when first I saw them, 
 and I asked no questions. But by the time that I was ten years 
 old , I knew the name of every reach of the river , and every point — 
 the depth of water, and the shallows, the drift of the current, and 
 the ebb and flow of the tide itself. I was able to manage the lighter 
 as it floated down with the tide; for what I lacked in strength I 
 made up with the dexterity arising from constant practice. 
 
 It was at the age of eleven years that a catastrophe took place 
 which changed my prospects in life , and I must therefore say a 
 little more about my faUier and mother, bringing up their history 
 
7 
 
 to that period. The propensity of my mother to ardent spirits had, 
 as always i& the case, greatly increased upon her, and her corpu- 
 L*nce had increased in the same ratio. She was now a most un- 
 wieldy, bloated mountain of flesh, such a form as I have never 
 since beheld , although , at the time , she did not appear to me to be 
 disgusting, accustomed to witness imperceptibly her increase , and 
 not seeing any other females, except at a distance. For the last two 
 years she had seldom quitted her bed — certainly she did not crawl 
 out of the cabin more than five minutes during the week — indeed 
 her obesity and habitual intoxication rendered her incapable. My 
 father went on shore for a quarter of an hour once a month , to pur- 
 chase gin , tobacco , red herrings , and decayed ship biscuit ; — the 
 latter was my principal fare , except w hen I could catch a fish over 
 the sides , as we lay at anchor. I was therefore a great water 
 drinker, not altogether from choice , but from the salt nature of my 
 food , and because my mother had still sense enough left to discern 
 that *'Gin wasn't good for little boys." But a great change had 
 taken place in my father. I was now left almost altogether in 
 charge of the deck, my father seldom coming up except to assist 
 me in shooting the bridges, or when it required moie than my 
 exertions to steer clear of the crowds of vessels which we encoun- 
 tered when between them. In fact, as I grew more capable, my 
 father became more incapable , and passed most of his time in the 
 cabin, assisting my mother in emptying the great stone bottle. The 
 woman had prevailed upon the man, and now both were guilty in 
 partaking of the forbidden fruit of the Juniper Tree. Such was the 
 state of affairs in our little kingdom, when the catastrophe occurred 
 which I am now about to relate. 
 
 One fine summer's evening, we were floating up with the tide, 
 deeply laden with coals , to be delivered at the proprietor's wharf, 
 some distance above Putney Bridge; a strong breeze sprang up, 
 and checked our progress , and we could not , as we expected , gain 
 the wharf that night. We were about a mile and a half above the 
 bridge when the tide turned against us, and we dropped our 
 anchor. My father, who, expecting to arrive that evening, had 
 very unwillingly remained sober, waiting until the lighter had 
 swung to the stream , and then saying to me , Remember, Jacob, 
 
8 
 
 we must be at the wharf early to-morrow morning , so keep alive/' 
 he went into the cabin to indulge in his potations , leaving me in 
 possession of the deck , and also of my supper , which I never ate 
 below, the little cabin being so unpleasantly close. Indeed , I took 
 all my meals al fresco, and, unless the nights were intensely 
 cold, slept on deck , in the capacious dog-kennel abaft, which had 
 once been tenanted by the large mastiff; but he had been de^d 
 some years, was thrown overboard, and, in all probability, had 
 been converted into savory sausages, at Is. per lb. Some time 
 after his decease , I had taken possession of his apartment and had 
 performed his duty. I had finished my supper, which I washed 
 down with a considerable portion of Thames water, for I always 
 drank more when above the bridges , having an idea that it tasted 
 more pure and fresh. I had walked forward and looked at the 
 cable to see if all was right, and then having nothing more to do, 
 I lay down on the deck , and indulged in the profound speculations 
 of a boy of eleven years old. I was watching the stars above me, 
 which twinkled faintly, and appeared to me ever and anon to be ex- 
 tinguished tnd then relighted. 1 was wondering what they could 
 be made of, and how they came there, when of a sudden I was 
 interrupted in my reveries by a loud shriek , and perceived a strong 
 smell of something burning. The shrieks were renewed again and 
 again , and I had hardly time to get upon my legs when my father 
 burst up from the cabin , rushed over the side of the lighter, and 
 disappeared under the water. I caught a glimpse of his features as 
 he passed me, and observed fright and intoxication blended 
 together. I ran to the side where he had disappeared, but could 
 see nothing but a few eddying circles as the tide rushed quickly 
 past. For a few seconds I remained staggered and stupefied at his 
 sudden disappearance and evident death , but I was recalled to re- 
 collection by the smoke which encompassed me , and the shrieks of 
 my mother, which were now fainter and fainter, and I hastened to 
 her assistance. 
 
 A strong, empyreumatic, thick smoke ascended from the 
 hatchway of the cabin, and, as it had now fallen calm, it mounted 
 straight up the air in a dense column. I attempted to go in , but 
 so soon as I encountered the smoke , I found that it was impos- 
 
9 
 
 sible; it would have suffocated me in half a minute. I did what 
 most children would have done in such a situation of excitement 
 and distress — I sat down and cried bitterly. In about ten minutes 
 I removed my hands , with which I had covered up my face , and 
 looked at the cabin hatch. The smoke had disappeared, and all 
 was silent. I went to the hatchway, and although the smell was 
 still overpowering, I found that I could bear it. I descended the 
 little ladder of three steps, and called Mother!" but there was 
 no answer. The lamp fixed against the after bulk-head, with a 
 glass before it, was still alight, and I could see plainly to every 
 corner of the cabin. Nothing was burning — not even the curtains 
 to my mother's bed appeared to be singed. I was astonished — 
 breathless with fear, with a trembling voice, I again called out 
 ** Mother!" I remained more than a minute panting for breath, 
 and then ventured to draw back the curtains of the bed — my mo- 
 ther was not there ! but there appeared to be a black mass in the 
 centre of the bed. I put my hand fearfully upon it — it was a sort 
 of unctuous, pitchy cinder. I screamed with horror — my little 
 senses reeled — I staggered from the cabin and fell down on the 
 deck, in a state amounting almost to insanity : it was followed by a 
 sort of stupor , which lasted for many hours. 
 
 As the reader may be in some doubt as to the occasion of my 
 mother's death, I must inform him that she perished in that very 
 peculiar and dreadful manner, which does sometimes, although 
 rarely, occur, to those who indulge in an immoderate use of spi- 
 rituous liquors. Cases of this kind do indeed present themselves 
 but once in a century, but the occurrence of them is too well 
 authenticated. She perished from what is termed spontaneous 
 combustion, an inflammation of the gases generated from the 
 spirits absorbed into the system. It is to be presumed that the 
 flames issuing from my mother's body, completely frightened out 
 of his senses my father, who had been drinking freely ; and thus 
 did I lose both my parents , one by fire and the other by water , at 
 one and the same time. 
 
10 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I fulfil the last injunctions of my father, and I am emharked upon a nev 
 €lenient. — First bargain in my life very profitable, first parting with 
 old friends very painful. — First introduction into civilised life very 
 unsatisfactory to all parties. 
 
 It was broad daylight when I awoke from my state of bodily and 
 mental imbecility. For some time I could not recall to my mind all 
 that had happened : the weight which pressed upon my feelings 
 told me that it was something dreadful. At length, the cabin 
 hatch , still open , caught my eye ; I recalled all the horrors of the 
 preceding evening, and recollected that I was left alone in the 
 lighter. I got up and stood upon my feet in mute despair. I looked 
 around me — the mist of the morning was hanging over the river, 
 and the objects on shore were with difficulty to be distinguished. I 
 was chilled from lying all night in the heavy dew , and perhaps still 
 more from previous and extraordinary excitement. Yenture to go 
 down into the cabin I dare not. I had an indescribable awe , a de- 
 gree of horror at what I had seen , that made it impossible ; still I 
 was unsatisfied , and would have given worlds , if I had had them, 
 to explain the mystery. 1 turned my eyes from the cabin hatch to 
 the water, thought of my father, and then for more than half an 
 hour watched the tide as it ran up — my mind in a state of vacancy. 
 As the sun rose , the mist gradually cleared away ; trees, houses, 
 and green fields, other barges coming up with the tide, boats pass- 
 ing and repassing, the barking of dogs, the smoke issuing from 
 the various chimneys, all broke upon me by degrees ; and I was re- 
 called to the sense that I was in a busy world, and had my own task 
 to perform. The last words of my father — and his injunctions had 
 ever been a law to mc — were , ' ' Mind , Jacob , we must be up at 
 the wharf early to-morrow morning." I prepared to obey him. 
 Purchase the anchor I could not; I therefore slipped the cable, 
 lashing a broken sweep to the end of it , as a buoy rope , and once 
 more the lighter was at the mercy of the stream , guided by a boy 
 of eleven years old. In about two hours I was within a hundred 
 yards of the wharf, and well in-shore. I hailed for assistance, and 
 two men who were on board of the lighters moored at the wharf, 
 
11 
 
 pushed off in a skiff to know \Vhat it was that I wanted. I told them 
 that I was alone in the lighter, without anchor or cable, and re- 
 quested them to secure her. They came on board , and in a few 
 minutes the lighter was safe alongside of the others. As soon as 
 the lashings were passed, they interrogated me as to what had 
 happened, but although the fulfilling of my father's last injunctions 
 had borne up my spirits , now that they were obeyed , a re-action 
 took place. I could not answer them ; I threw myself down on the 
 deck in a paroxysm of grief,' and cried as if my heart would 
 break. 
 
 The men , who were astonished not only at my conduct, but at 
 finding me alone in the lighter, went on shore to the clerk, and 
 stated the circumstances. He returned with them, and would 
 have interrogated me , but my paroxysm was not yet over , and my 
 replies, broken by my sobs , were unintelligible. The clerk and 
 the two men went down into the cabin, returned hastily, and 
 quitted the ligliter. In about a quarter of an hour I was sent for, 
 and conducted to the house of the proprietor — the first time in my 
 life that I had ever put my foot on terra firm a. I was led into the 
 parlour, where I found the proprietor at breakfast with his wife 
 and his daughter, a little girl nine years old. By this time I had 
 recovered myself, and on being interrogated, told my story clearly 
 and succinctly, while the big tears coursed each other down my 
 dirty face. 
 
 "How strange and how horrible!" said the lady to her bus* 
 band ; 1 cannot understand it even now." 
 
 Nor can I; but still it is true, from what Johnson the clerk 
 has witnessed." 
 
 In the mean time my eyes were directed to every part of the 
 room , which appeared to my ignorance as a Golconda of wealth 
 and luxury. There were few things which I had seen before , but 
 I had an innate idea that they were of value. The silver tea-pot, 
 the hissing urn , the spoons , the pictures in their frames , every 
 article of furniture, caught my wondering eye, and for a short 
 time I had forgotten my father and my mother; but I was recalled 
 from my musing speculations by the proprietor inquiring how far I 
 had brought the lighter >yithout assistance. 
 
12 
 
 * ' Have you any friends , my poor boy ? " inquired the lady. 
 *'No." 
 
 **What! no relations on shore?'*. 
 
 I never was on shore before in my life.'* 
 * ' Do you know that you are a destitute orphan ? " 
 "What's that?" 
 
 *' That you have no father or mother ," said the little girl. 
 
 *'Well," replied I, in my father's words, having no answer 
 more appropriate, **it's no use crying; what's done can't be 
 helped. " 
 
 "But what do you intend to do now?" inquired the proprietor, 
 looking hard at me after my previous answer. 
 
 "Don't know, I'm sure. Take it coolly," replied I, whim- 
 pering. 
 
 " What a very odd child ! " observed the lady. "Is he aware 
 of the extent of his misfortune? " 
 
 "Better luck next time, missus," replied I, wiping my eyes 
 with the back of my hand. 
 
 "What strange answers from a child who has shown so much 
 feeling," observed the proprietor to his wife. "What is your 
 name?" 
 
 "Jacob Faithful." 
 
 " Can you write or read?" 
 
 "No," replied I, again using my father's words: "No, I 
 can't; I wish I could." 
 
 "Very well , my poor boy, we'll see what 's to be done," said 
 the proprietor. 
 
 "I know what's to be done," rejoined I; "you must send a 
 couple of hands to get the anchor and cable , afore they cut the 
 buoy adrift." 
 
 "You are right, my lad, that must be done immediately," 
 said the proprietor ; "but now you had better go down with Sarah 
 into the kitchen; cook will take care of you. Sarah, my love, 
 take him down to cook." 
 
 The little girl beckoned me to follow her. I was astonished at 
 the length and variety of the companion ladders, for such I 
 considered the stairs, and was at last landed below, when little 
 
13 
 
 Sarah, giving cook the injunction to take care of me, again tripped 
 lightly up to her mother. 
 
 I found the signification of take care of any one very diffe- 
 rent on shore from what it was on the river, where taking care of 
 you means getting out of your way, and giving you a wide berth ; 
 and I found the shore-reading much more agreeable. Cook did 
 take care of me; she was a kind-hearted , fat woman , who melted 
 at a tale of woe , although the fire made no impression on her. I 
 not only beheld , but I devoured , such things as never before 
 entered into my mouth or my imagination. Grief had not taken 
 away my appetite. I stopped occasionally to cry a little, wiped 
 my eyes , and sat down again. It was more than two hours before 
 I laid down my knife, and not until strong symptoms of suffocation 
 played round the regions of my trachea, did I cry out, *'hold, 
 enough." Somebody has made an epigram about the vast ideas 
 which a miser's horsft must have had of corn. I doubt, if such 
 ideas were existent, whether they were at all equal to my astonish- 
 ment at a leg of mutton. I had never seen such a piece of meat 
 before, and wondered if it were fresh or otherwise. After such 
 refection I naturally felt inclined to sleep; in a few minutes I was 
 snoring upon two chairs, cook having covered me up with her 
 apron to keep away the flics. Thus was I fairly embarked upon an 
 element new to me — my mother earth ; and it may be just as well 
 to examine now into the capital I possessed for my novel enterprise. 
 In person I was well looking; I was well made, strong, and 
 active. Of my habiliments the less said the better ; I had a pair of 
 trowscrs with no scat to them ; but this defect when I stood up was 
 hid by my jacket, composed of an old waistcoat of my father's, 
 which reached down as low as the morning frocks worn in those 
 days. A shirt of coarse duck , and a fur cap , which was as rough 
 and ragged as if it had been the hide of a cat pulled to pieces by 
 dogs, completed my attire. Shoes and stockings I had none; 
 these supernumerary appendages had.riever confined the action of 
 my feet. My mental acquisitions were not much more valuable ; — 
 they consisted of a tolerable knowledge of the depth of water, 
 names of points and reaches, in the river Thames, all of which 
 was not verj' available on dry land — of a few hieroglyphics of my 
 
14 
 
 father's, which, as the crier says, sometimes winding up his 
 oration , were of no use to nobody but the owner." Add to the 
 above, the three favourite maxims.of my taciturn father, which 
 were indelibly imprinted upon my memory, and you have the 
 whole inventory of my stock in trade. These three maxims were, 
 I may say, incorporated into my very system , so continually had 
 they been quoted to me during my life ; and before I went to sleep 
 that night, they were again conned over. What's done, can't 
 be helped," consoled me for the mishaps of my life; Better luck 
 next time," made me look forward with hope; and, **Take it 
 coolly," was a subject of deep reflection, until I fell into a deep 
 sleep ; for I had sufficient penetration to observe , that my father 
 had lost his life by not adhering to his own principles; and this 
 perception only rendered my belief in the infallibility of these 
 maxims to be even slill more stedfast. 
 
 I have stated what was my father's legacy, and the reader will 
 suppose that from the maternal side the acquisition was nil. 
 Directly such was the case, but indirectly she proved a very good 
 mother to me, and that was by the very extraordinary way in which 
 she had q^uitted the world. Had she met with a common death, 
 she would have been worth nothing. Burke himself would not 
 have been able to dispose of her; but dying as she did , her ashes 
 were the source of wealth. The bed, with her remains lying in 
 the centre, even the curtains of the bed, were all brought on shore, 
 and locked up in an outhouse. The coroner came down in a post- 
 chaise and four, charged to the county; the jury was empanneled, 
 my evidence was taken, surgeons and apothecaries attended from 
 far and near to give their opinions, and «fter much examination, 
 much arguing, and much disagreement, the verdict was brought 
 in that she died by the visitation of God." As this, in other 
 phraseology, implies that **God only knows how she died," it 
 was agreed to nem. con., and gave universal satisfaction. But 
 the extraordinary circumstance was spread every where, with all 
 due amplifications, and thousands flocked to the wharfinger's yard 
 to witness the elTects of spontaneous combustion. The proprietor 
 immediately perceived that he could avail himself of the public 
 curiosity to my advantage. A plate, with some silver and gold, 
 
15 
 
 was placed at the foot of my poor mother's flock mattress, with, 
 " For the benefit of the orphan," in capital text, placarded above 
 it; and many were the shillings, half-crowns, and even larger 
 sums , which were dropped into it by the spectators , who shud- 
 dered as they turned away from this awful specimen of the effectf 
 of habitual intoxication. For many days did the exhibition con- 
 tinue, during which time I was domiciled with the cook, who 
 employed me in scouring her saucepans, and any other employ- 
 ment in which my slender services might be useful , little thinking 
 at the time that my poor mother was holding her levee for my ad- 
 vantage. On the eleventh day the exhibition was closed, and I 
 was summoned up-stairs by the proprietor, whom I found in com- 
 pany with a little gentleman in black. This was a surgeon , who 
 had offered a sum of money for my mother's remains , bed and 
 curtains, in a lot. The proprietor was willing to get rid of them 
 in so advantageous a manner, but did not conceive that he was 
 justified in taking this step , although for my benefit , without first 
 consulting me , as heir-at-law. 
 
 "Jacob," said he, **this gentleman offers 20 ^, which is a 
 great deal of money, for the ashes of your poor mother. Have 
 you any objection to let him have them?" 
 
 " What do you want *em for?" inquired I. 
 
 **I wish to keep them, and take great care of them," an- 
 swered he. 
 
 **Well," replied I, after a little consideration, **if you *ll 
 take care of the old woman, you may have her," — and the 
 bargain was concluded. Singular that the first bargain I ever made 
 in my life should be that of selling my own mother. The proceeds 
 of the exhibition and sale amounted to 47;^; odd, which the worthy 
 proprietor of the lighter, after deducting for a suit of clothes, laid 
 up for my use. Thus ends the history of my mother's remains, 
 which proved more valuable to me than ever she did when living. 
 In her career she somewhat reversed the case of Semele , who was 
 first visited in a shower of gold , and eventually perished in the 
 fiery embraces of the god : whereas my poor mother perished first 
 by the same element , and the shower of gold descended to he • 
 
16 
 
 only son. But this is easily explained. Semele was very lovely 
 and did not drink gin — my mother was her complete antithesis. 
 
 When I was summoned to my master's presence to arrange the 
 contract with the surgeon , I had taken off the waistcoat which I 
 wore as a garment over all , that I might be more at my ease in 
 chopping some wood for the cook , and the servant led me up at 
 once, without giving me time to put it on. After I had given my 
 consent, I turned away to go down stairs again, when having, as I 
 before observed, no seat to my trowsers, the solution of continuity 
 was observed by a little spaniel , who jumped from the sofa , and 
 arriving at a certain distance, stood at bay, and barked most 
 furiously at the exposure. He had been bred up among respec- 
 table people, and had never seen such an expos6. Mr. Drum- 
 mond, the proprietor, observed the defect pointed out by the dog, 
 and forthwith I was ordered to be suited with a new suit — certainly 
 not before they were required. In twenty-four hours I was thrust 
 into a new garment, by a bandy-legged tailor, assisted by my 
 friend the cook, and turn or twist whichever way I pleased, de- 
 cency was never violated. A new suit of clothes is generally an 
 object of ambition, and flatters the vanity of young and old ; but 
 with me it was far otherwise. Encumbered with my novel apparel, 
 I experienced at once feelings of restraint and sorrow. My shoes 
 hurt me, my worsted stockings irritated the skin; and as I had 
 been accustomed to hereditarily succeed to my father's cast off 
 skins, which were a world too wide for my shanks, having but few 
 ideas, it appeared to me as if I had swelled out to the size of the 
 clothes which I had been unaccustomed to wear, not that they had 
 been reduced to my dimensions. I fancied myself a man, but was 
 very much embarrassed with my manhood. Every step that I took 
 I felt as if I was checked back by strings. I could not swing my 
 arms as I was wont to do , and tottered in my shoes like a rickety 
 child. My old apparel had been consigned to the dust-hole by 
 cook, and often during the day would I pass, casting a longing eye 
 at it, wishing that I dare recover it , and exchange it for that which 
 I wore. I knew the value of it, and , like the magician in Alad- 
 din's tale , would have offered new lamps for old ones , cheerfully 
 submitting to ridicule , that I might have repossessed my treasure. 
 
17 
 
 With the kitchen and its apparatus I was now quite at home ; 
 but at every other part of the house and furniture I was completely 
 puzzled. Every thing appeared to me foreign, strange, and un- 
 natural , and Prince Le Boo or any other savage never stared or 
 wondered more than I did. Of most things I knew not the use, of 
 many not even the names. I was literally a savage , but still a 
 kind and docile one. The day after my new clothes had been put 
 on , I was summoned into the parlour. Mr. Drummond and his 
 wife surveyed me in my altered habiliments , and amused them- 
 selves at my awkwardness , at the same time that they admired my 
 well-knit, compact, and straight figure, set off by a fit, in my 
 opinion, much too strait. Their little daughter, Sarah , who often 
 spoke to me, went up and whispered to her mother. ** You must 
 ask papa," was the reply. Another whisper, and a kiss, and Mr. 
 Drummond told me that I should dine with them. In a few mi- 
 nutes I followed them into the dining-room, and for the first time I 
 was seated to a repast which could boast of some of the supernu- 
 merary comforts of civilised life. There I sat, perched on a chair, 
 with my feet swinging close to the carpet , glowing with heat from 
 the compression of my clothes, and the novelty of my situation, 
 and all that was around me. Mr. Drummond helped me to some 
 scalding soup , a silver spoon was put into my hand , which I 
 twisted round and round, looking at my face reflected in miniature 
 on its polish. 
 
 **Now, Jacob, you must eat the soup with the spoon," said 
 little Sarah, laughing; we shall all be done. Be quick." 
 
 '*Take it coolly," replied I, digging my spoon into the burning 
 preparation, and tossing it into my mouth. It burst forth from my 
 tortured throat in a diverging shower, accompanied with a howl 
 of pain. 
 
 "The poor boy has scalded his mouth," cried the lady, pouring 
 out a tumbler of water. 
 
 It's no use crying," replied I, blubbering with all my might; 
 what's done can't be helped." 
 "Better that you had not been helped," observed Mr. Drum- 
 mond, wiping off his share of my liberal spargefication from his 
 coat and waistcoat. 
 Jacob Faithful. ^ 
 
18 
 
 1 — 
 
 The poor boy has been shamefully neglected/* observed the 
 good-natured Mrs. Drummond. **Come, Jacob, sit down and 
 try it again ; it will not burn you now." 
 
 better luck next time," said I, shoving in a portion of it, 
 with a great deal of tremulous hesitation, and spilling one half of it 
 in its transit. It was now cool, but I did not get on very fast; I 
 held my spoon awry, and soiled my clothes. 
 
 Mrs. Drummond interfered, and kindly showed me how to 
 proceed ; when Mr. Drummond said , * ' Let the boy eat it after his 
 own fashion, my dear — only be quick, Jacob, for we are waiting.'* 
 
 *'Then I see no good losing so much of it, taking it in tale,'* 
 observed I, *'when I can ship it all in bulk in a minute." I laid 
 down my spoon, and stooping my head , applied my mouth to the 
 edge of the plate, and sucked the remainder down my throat 
 without spilling a drop. I looked up for approbation, and was 
 very much astounded to hear Mrs. Drummond quietly observe, 
 ** That is not the way to eat soup.'* 
 
 I made so many blunders during the meal, that little Sarah was 
 in a continued roar of laughter ; and I felt so miserable , that I 
 heartily wished myself again in my dog-kennel on board of the light- 
 er, gnawing biscuit in all the happiness of content, and dignity 
 of simplicity. For the first time, I felt the pangs of humiliation. 
 Ignorance is not always debasing. Oa board of the lighter , I was 
 sufficient for myself, my company, and my duties. I felt an 
 elasticity of mind, a respect for myself, and a consciousness of 
 power, as the immense mass was guided through the waters by my 
 single arm. There, without being able to analyse my feelings, I 
 was a spirit guiding a little world ; and now , at this table , and in 
 company with rational and well-informed beings , I felt humiliated 
 and degraded ; my heart was overflowing with shame , and at one 
 unusual loud laugh of the little Sarah , the heaped up measure of 
 my anguish overflowed , and I burst into a passion of tears. As I 
 lay with my head upon the table-cloth , regardless of those decen- 
 cies I had so much feared, and awake only to a deep sense of 
 wounded pride, each sob coming from the very core of my heart, I 
 felt a soft breathing warm upon my cheek , that caused me to look 
 up timidly , and I beheld the glowing and beautiful face of little 
 
19 
 
 Sarah , her eyes filled with tears , looking so softly and beseech- 
 ingly at me , that I felt at once I was of some value , and panted 
 to be of more. 
 
 *'I won't laugh at you any more," said she; '*so don't cry, 
 Jacob." 
 
 *^No more I will," replied I, cheering up. She remained 
 standing by me , and I felt grateful. ** The first time I get a piece 
 of wood," whispered I, ^Tll cut you out a barge." 
 
 *' Oh, papa ! Jacob says he'll cut me out a barge." 
 That boy has a heart ," said Mr. Drummond to his wife. 
 But will it swim, Jacob?" inquired the little girl, 
 
 * * Yes ; and if it's lopsided, call me a lubber." 
 
 ** What's lopsided, and what's a lubber? " replied Sarah. 
 
 "Why, don't you know?" cried I; and I felt my confidence 
 return , when I found that in this little instance I knew more than 
 she did. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 I am sent to a charity school, where the boys do not consider charity as 
 a part of their education. — The peculiarities of the master, and 
 the magical effects of a blow, of the nose. — A disquisition upon the 
 letter A, from which 1 find all my previous learning thrown away. 
 
 Before I quitted the room, Sarah and I were in deep converse 
 at the window, and Mr. and Mrs. Drummond employed likewise 
 at the table. The result of the conversation between Sarah and me 
 was the intimacy of children; that of Mr. and Mrs. Drummond, 
 that the sooner I was disposed of, the more it would be for my own 
 advantage. Having some interest with the governors of a charity 
 school near Brentford , Mr. Drummond lost no time in procuring 
 me admission ; and before I had quite spoiled my new clothes, 
 having worn them nearly three weeks , I was suited afresh in a for- 
 mal attire — a long coat of pepper and salt, yellow leather-breeches 
 tied at the knees , a worsted cap with a tuft on the top of it, 
 stockings and shoes to match , and a large pewter plate upon my 
 breast, marked with No. 63., which, as I was the last entered Doy, 
 indicated the sum total of the school. It was with regret that I left 
 
 2* 
 
20 
 
 the abode of the Drummonds , who did not think it advisable to 
 wait for the completion of the barge , much to the annoyance of 
 Miss Sarah and myself. I was conducted to the school by Mr. 
 Drummond, and before we arrived met them all out walking. I 
 was put into the ranks , received a little good advice from my 
 worthy patron , who then walked away one way, while we walked 
 another, looking like a regiment of yellow -thighed fieldfares 
 straightened into human perpendiculars. Behold, then, the last 
 scion of the Faithfuls , peppered, salted, and plated, that all the 
 world might know that he was a charity-boy, and that there was 
 charity in this world. But if heroes, kings , great and grave men, 
 must yield to destiny, lighter-boys cannot be expected to escape; 
 and I was doomed to receive an education , board , lodging , rai- 
 ment, &c., free, gratis, and for nothing. 
 
 Every society has its chief; and I was ab(3lit to observe that 
 every circle has its centre , which certainty would have been true 
 enough , but the comparison is of no use to me , as our circle had 
 two centres , or , to follow up the first idea , had two chiefs — the 
 chief schoolmaster, and the chief domestic — the chief mascuhne 
 and the chief feminine — the chief with the ferula and the chief 
 with the brimstone and treacle — the master and the matron , each 
 of whom had their appendages — the one in the usher, the other 
 in the assistant housemaid. But of this quartette , the master was 
 not only the most important, but the most worthy of description; 
 and, as he will often appear in the pages of my narrative long after 
 my education was complete , I shall be very particular in my de- 
 scription of Domine Dobiensis , as he delighted to be called , or 
 Dreary Dobbs , as his dutiful scholars delighted to call him. As, 
 in our school , it was necessary that we should be instructed in 
 reading, writing, and ciphering, the governors had selected the 
 Domine as the most fitting person that had oflered f«r the employ- 
 ment , because he had , in the first place , written a work that no- 
 body could understand upon the Greek particles; secondly, he 
 had proved himself a great mathematician, having, it is said, 
 squared the circle by algebraical false quantities , but would never 
 show the operation for fear of losing the honour by treachery. He 
 had also discovered as many errors in the demonstrations of Eu- 
 
21 
 
 did , as ever did Joey Hume in army and navy estimates , and with 
 as much benefit to the country at large. He was a man who brea- 
 thed certainly in the present age , but the half of his life was spent 
 inantiquity, oralgebra. Once carried away by a problem , or 
 a Greek reminiscence , he passed away , as it were , from his pre- 
 sent existence, and every thing was unheeded. His body remained, 
 and breathed on his desk , but his soul was absent. This pecu- 
 liarity was well known to the boys, who used to say, *'Domine 
 is in his dreams , and talks in his sleep." 
 
 Domine Dobiensis left reading and writing to the usher, con- 
 trary to the regulations of the school , putting the boys, if possible, 
 into mathematics, Latin, and Greek. The usher was not over 
 competent to teach the two first; the boys not over willing to learn 
 the latter. The master was too clever, the usher too ignorant; 
 hence the scholars profited little. The Domine was grave and iras- 
 cible, but he possessed a fund of drollery and the kindest heart. 
 His features could not laugh, but his trachea did. The chuckle 
 rose no higher than the rings of the wind -pipe, and then it was 
 vigorously thrust back again by the impulse of gravity into the re- 
 gion of his heart, and gladdened it with hidden mirth in its dark 
 centre. ' The Domine loved a pun, whether it was let off in Eng- 
 lish, Greek, or Latin. The last two were made by nobody but 
 himself, and not being understood, were of course relished by 
 himself alone. But his love of a pun was a serious attachment : 
 he loved it with a solemn affection — with him it was no laughing 
 matter. 
 
 In person, Domine Dobiergis was above' six feet, all bone and 
 sinews. His face was long, and his lineaments large; but his 
 predominant feature was his nose, which, large as were the others, 
 bore them down into insignificance. It was a prodigy — a ridi- 
 cule; but he consoled himself — Ovid was called Naso. It was 
 not an aquiline nose, nor was it an aquiline nose reversed. It 
 was not a nose snubbed at the extremity, gross, heavy , or carbun- 
 cled, or fluting. In all its magnitude of proportions, it was an 
 Intellectual nose. It was thin, horny, transparent, and so- 
 norous. Its snuffle was consequential, and its sneeze oracular. 
 The very sight of it was impressive ; its sound , when blown in 
 
22 
 
 school -hours , was ominous. But the scholars loved the nose for 
 the warning which it gave: like the rattle of the dreaded snake, 
 which announces its presence, so did the nose indicate to the 
 scholars that they were to be on their guard. The Domine would 
 attend to this world and its duties for an hour or two , and then 
 forget his scholars and his school -room, while he took a journey 
 into the world of Greek or algebra. Then , when he marked x, y, 
 and z, in his calculations, the boys knew that he was safe, and 
 their studies were neglected. 
 
 Reader , did you ever witness the magic effects of a drum in a 
 small village , when the recruiting party, with many- coloured ri- 
 bands, rouse it up with a spirit-stirring tattoo? Matrons leave 
 their domestic cares, and run to the cottage door: peeping over 
 their shoulders, the maidens admire and fear. The shuffling 
 clowns raise up their heads gradually, until they stand erect and 
 proud ; the slouch in the back is taken out , their heavy walk is 
 changed to a firm yet elastic tread, every muscle appears more 
 braced, every nerve, by degrees, new strung; the blood circulates 
 rapidly; pulses quicken, hearts throb, eyes brighten, and, as 
 the martial sound pervades their rustic frames, the Cimons of 
 the plough are converted , as if by magic , into incipient heroes for 
 the field ; — and all this is produced by beating the skin of the 
 most gentle , most harmless animal of creation. 
 
 Not having at hand the simile synthetical , we have resorted to 
 the antithetical. The blowing of the Domine's nose produced the 
 very contrary effect. It was a signal that he had returned from his 
 intellectual journey, and was on(^ more in his school -room — 
 that the master had finished with his x, y , z's , and it was time for 
 the scholars to mind their p's and q's. At this note of warning, 
 like the minute roll among the troops, every one fell into his place ; 
 half- munched apples were thrust into the first pocket — pop-guns 
 disappeared — battles were left to be decided elsewhere — books 
 were opened, and eyes directed to them — forms that were fidget- 
 ting and twisting in all directions , now took one regimental incli- 
 ned position over the desks — silence was restored , order resu- 
 med her reign, and Mr. Knapps, the usher, who always availed 
 himself of these interregnums , as well as the scholars , by desert- 
 
23 
 
 Ing to the matron's room , warned by the well-known sound, 
 hastened to the desk of toil ; — such were the astonishing effects 
 of a blow from Domine Dobiensis' sonorous and peace -restoring 
 nose. 
 
 Jacob Faithful, draw near," were the first words which 
 struck upon my tympanum the next morning , when I had taken 
 my seat at the farther end of the school -room. I rose and threaded 
 my way through two lines of boys , who put out their legs to trip 
 me up , in my passage through their ranks ; and surmounting all 
 difficulties , found myself within three feet of the master's high 
 desk, or pulpit, from which he looked down upon me like the 
 Olympian Jupiter upon mortals , in ancient time. 
 
 "Jacob Faithful, canst thou read?" 
 
 **No, I can't," replied I; "I wish I could.'* 
 
 **A well-disposed answer, Jacob; thy wishes shall be grati- 
 fied. Knowest thou thine alphabet? " 
 
 * * I don't know what that is." 
 
 '*Then thou knowest it not. Mr. Knapps shall forthwith 
 instruct thee. Thou shalt forthwith go to Mr. Knapps, who in- 
 culcateth the rudiments. Levior Puer, lighter-boy, thou hast 
 a crafty look." And then I heard a noise in his thorax that 
 resembled the ** cluck cluck," when my poor mother poured the 
 gin out of the great stone bottle. 
 
 '*Mylittle naviculator," continued he, *Hhou art a weed washed 
 on shore, one of Father Thames* cast-up wrecks. *Fluvi- 
 orum rex E rid anus.' [Cluck, cluck.] To thy studies; be 
 tliyself — that is, be Faithful. Mr. Knapps, let the Cadmean 
 art proceed forthwith." So saying, Domine Dobiensis thrust his 
 large hand into his right coat pocket , in which he kept his snuff 
 loose , and taking a large pinch , (the major part of which , the 
 stock being low, was composed or hairs and cotton abrasions, 
 which had collected in the corner of his pocket,) he called up the 
 first class , while Mr. Knapps called me to my first lesson. 
 
 Mr. Knapps was a thin, hectic -looking young man, appa- 
 rently nineteen or twenty years of age, very small in all his pro- 
 portions, red ferret eyes, and without the least sign of incipient 
 manhood ; but he was very savage nevertheless. Not being per- 
 
24 
 
 milted to pummel the boys when the Domine was in the school- 
 room , he played the tyrant most effectually when he was left com- 
 manding officer. The noise and hubbub certainly warranted his 
 interference — the respect paid to him was positively nil. His 
 practice was to select the most glaring delinquent, and let fly his 
 ruler at him, with immediate orders to bring it back. These or- 
 ders were complied with for more than one reason; in the first 
 place , was the offender hit, he was glad that another should have 
 his turn ; in the second , Mr. Knapps being a very bad shot , (ne- 
 ver having drove a Karaschatdale team of dogs,) he generally 
 missed the one he aimed at, and hit some other, who, if he did not 
 exactly deserve it at that moment, certainly did for previous, or 
 would for subsequent, delinquencies. In the latter case, the 
 ruler was brought back to him because there was no injury in- 
 flicted, although intended. However, be it as it may, the ruler 
 was always returned to him ; and thus did Mr. Knapps pelt the 
 boys as if they were cocks on Shrove Tuesday , to the great risk of 
 their heads and limbs. I have little further to say of Mr. Knapps, 
 except that he wore a black shalloon loose coat; on the left sleeve 
 of which he wiped his pen, and upon the right, but too often, 
 his ever- snivelling nose. 
 
 ''What is that , boy? " said Mr. Knapps , pointing to the let- 
 ler A. 
 
 I looked attentively , and recognising , as I thought , one of my 
 father's hieroglyphics, replied, *'That 'shalf a bushel;" and I 
 was certainly warranted in my supposition. 
 
 "Half a bushel! You 're more than half a fool. That 's the 
 letter A." 
 
 ''No; it's half a bushel; father told me so." 
 *' Then your father was as big a fool as yourself." 
 ' ' Father knew what half a bushel was, and so do I : that *s half 
 a bushel." 
 
 "I tell you it's the letter A," cried Mr. Knapps , in a rage. 
 
 *'It's half a bushel," replied I, doggedly. I persisted in my 
 assertion ; and Mr. Knapps , who dared not punish me while the 
 Domine was present, descended his throne of one step, and led 
 me up to the master. 
 
25 
 
 **I can do nothing with this boy, Sir/' said he, red as fire; 
 ** he denies the first letter in the alphabet , and insists upon it that 
 the letter A is not A , but half a bushel." 
 
 **Dost thou, in thine ignorance, pretend to teach when thou 
 comest here to learn , Jacob Faithful? " 
 
 Father always told me that that thing there meant half a 
 bushel." 
 
 **Thy father might, perhaps, have used that letter to signify 
 the measure which thou speakest of, in the same way as I , in my 
 mathematics , use divers letters for known and unknown quanti- 
 ties ; but thou must forget that which thy father taught thee , and 
 commence d e n o v o. Dost thou understand ? " 
 
 **No, I don't." 
 
 **Then, little Jacob* that represents the letter A, and what- 
 ever else Mr. Knapps may tell thee, thou wilt believe. Return, 
 Jacob , and be docile." 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Sleight of hand at the expense of my feet. — Filling a man's pockets as 
 great an offence as picking them, and punished accordingly. — A turn 
 out, a turn up, and a turn in. — Early impressions removed, and 
 redundancy of feeling corrected by a spell of the rattan. 
 
 I DID not quit Mr. Knapps until I had run through the al- 
 phabet , and then returned to my place , that I might con it over at 
 my leisure , puzzling myself with the strange complexity of forms, 
 of which the alphabet was composed. I felt heated and annoyed 
 by the constraint of my shoes , always an object of aversion from 
 the time I had put them on. I drew my foot out of one , then out 
 of the other, and thought no more of them for some time. In the 
 mean while the boys next me had passed them on with their feet to 
 the others , and thus were they shuffled along until they were right 
 up to the master s desk. I missed them , and perceiving that there 
 was mirth at my expense, I narrowly and quietly watched up and 
 down , until I perceived one of the head boys of the school , who 
 sat nearest to the Domine , catch up one of my shoes , and the 
 
2G 
 
 Domine being then in an absent fit, drop it into his coat-pocket. 
 A short time afterwards he got up , went to Mr. Knapps , put a 
 question to him , and while it was being answered , he dropped the 
 other into the pocket of the usher, and tittering to the other boys 
 returned to his seat. I said nothing ; but when the hours of school 
 were over , the Domine looked at his watch , blew his nose , which 
 made the whole of the boys pop up their heads , like the clansmen 
 ofRhoderick Dhu, when summoned by his horn, folded up his 
 large pocket-handkerchief slowly and reverently, as if it were a 
 banner, put it into his pocket, and uttered in a solemn tone, 
 *'Tempusestludendi." As this Latin phrase was used every 
 day at the same hour, every boy in the school understood so much 
 Latin. A rush from all the desks ensued, and amidst shouting, 
 yelling, and leaping, every soul disappeared except myself , who 
 remained fixed to my form. The Domine rose from his pulpit and 
 descended, the usher did the same, and both approached me on 
 their way to their respective apartments. 
 
 "Jacob Faithful, why still porest thou over thy book — didst 
 thou not understand that the hours of recreation had arrived? Why 
 risest thou not upon thy feet like the others ? " 
 'Cause I 've got no shoes.*' 
 
 *'And where are thy shoes , Jacob?" 
 
 "One's in your pocket," replied I, "and t' other's in his'n." 
 Each party placed their hands behind , and felt the truth of the 
 assertion. 
 
 '•Expound Jacob," said the Domine , "who hath done this?" 
 
 * ' The big boy with the red hair , and a face picked all over with 
 holes like the strainers in master's kitchen ," replied I. 
 
 " Mr. Knapps , it would be infra dig. on my part, and also 
 on yours , to suffer this disrespect to pass unnoticed. Ring in the 
 • boys." 
 
 The boys were rung in , and I was desired to point out the of- 
 fender, which I immediately did, and who as stoutly denied the 
 offence ; but he had abstracted my shoe-strings , and put them 
 into his own shoes. I recognised them , and it was sufficient. 
 
 "Bamaby Bracegirdle ," said the Domine, "thou art con- 
 victed, not only of disrespect towards me and Mr. Knapps, but 
 
27 
 
 further , of 'the grievous sin of lying. Simon Swapps , let him be 
 hoisted." 
 
 He was hoisted : his nether garments descended , and then the 
 birch descended with all the vigour of the Domine's muscular arm. 
 Barnaby Bracegirdle showed every symptom of his disapproval of 
 the measures taken ; but Simon Swapps held fast, and the Dominc 
 flogged fast. After a minute's flagellation , Barnaby was let down, 
 his yellow tights pulled up , and the boys dismissed. Baruaby's 
 face was red, but the antipodes were redder. The Domine de- 
 parted, leaving us together, — he adjusting his inexpressibles, I 
 putting in my shoe-strings. By the time Barnaby had buttoned up 
 and wiped his eyes , I had succeeded in standing in my shoes. 
 There we were t^te-li-t6te. 
 
 "Now, then," said Barnaby, holding one fist to my face, 
 while , with the other open hand he rubbed behind , come out in 
 the plaj-ground, Mr. Cinderella, and see if I won't drub you 
 within an inch of your life." 
 
 "It's no use crying," said I soothingly: for I had not wished 
 him to be flogged. "What's done can't be helped. Did it hurt 
 you much?" 
 
 This intended consolation was taken for sarcasm. Barnaby 
 stormed. 
 
 " Take it coolly ," observed I. 
 Barnaby waxed even more wroth. 
 
 " Better luck next time ," continued I , trying to soothe him 
 
 Barnaby was outrageous — he shook his fist and ran into the 
 play-ground , daring me to follow him. His threats had no weight 
 with me ; not wishing to remain in-doors , I followed him in a mi- 
 nute or two , when I found him surrounded by the other boys , to 
 whom he was in loud and vehement harangue. 
 
 " Cinderella, where's your glass slippers?" cried the boys, [as 
 I made my appearance. 
 
 "Come out, you water-rat," cried Barnaby: "you son of a 
 cinder ! " 
 
 " Come out and fight him, or else you're a coward ! " exclaimed 
 the whole host, from No. 1. to No. 6^. inclusive. 
 
28 
 
 '*He has had beating enough already to my mind replied I; 
 ** but he'd better not touch me — I can use my arms." 
 
 • A ring was formed , in the centre of which I found Barnaby 
 and myself. He took off his clothes, and I did the same. He was 
 much older and stronger than I , and knew something about fight- 
 ing. One boy came forward as my second. Barnaby advanced 
 and held out his hand , which I shook heartily , thinking it was all 
 over; but immediately received a right and left on the face , which 
 sent me reeling backwards. This was a complete mystery , but it 
 raised my bile , and I returned it with interest. I was very strong 
 in my arms, as may be supposed; and I threw them about like 
 sails of a windmill, never hitting straight out, but with semicir- 
 cular blows , which descended on or about his ears. On the con- 
 trary , his blows were all received straight-forward , and my nose 
 and face were soon covered with blood. As I warmed with pain 
 and rage, I flung about my arms at random, and Barnaby gave 
 me a knock-down blow. I was picked up , and sat upon ^y se- 
 cond's knee , who whispered to me , as I spat the blood out of my 
 mouth, Take it coolly , and make sure when you hit." 
 
 My own — my father's maxim — coming from another, it struck 
 with double force, and I never forgot it during the remainder of the 
 light. Again we were standing up face to face ; again I received it 
 right and left, and returned it upon his right and left ear. Barnaby 
 rushed in — I was down again. 
 
 **Better luck next time," said I to my second, as cool as a cu- 
 cumber. 
 
 A third and a fourth round succeeded, all apparently in Barna- 
 by's favour, but really in mine. My face was beat to a mummy, 
 but he was what is termed groggy, from the constant return of 
 blows on the sides of the head. Again we stood up , panting and 
 exhausted. Barnaby rushed at me and I avoided him : before he 
 could return to the attack, I had again planted two severe blows 
 upon his ears , and he reeled. He shook his head, and, with his 
 fists in the attitude of defence, asked me whether I had had 
 enough. 
 
 *' He has," said ray second; ** stick to him now, Jacob, and 
 you'll beat him." 
 
29 
 
 I did stick to him ; three or four more blows applied to the 
 same part , finished him , and he fell senseless on the ground. 
 
 *' You've settled him cried my second. 
 What's done can't be helped," replied I. **Ishedead?" 
 
 "What's all this?" cried Mr. Knapps, pressing his way 
 through the crowd , followed by the matron. 
 
 '^Barnaby and Cinderella having it out, Sir," said one of the 
 elder boys. 
 
 The matron , who had already taken a liking for me , because 
 I was good looking, and because I had been recommended to her 
 care by Mrs. Drummond , ran to me. 
 
 ** Well," says she, if the Domine don't punish that big brute 
 for this, I '11 see whether I 'm any body or not;" and taking me by 
 the hand , she led me away. In the mean time Mr. Knapps sur- 
 veyed Barnaby, who was still senseless, and desired the other 
 boys to bring him in , and lay him on his bed. He breathed hard, 
 but still remained senseless , and a surgeon was sent for , who 
 found it necessary to bleed him copiously. He then , at the re- 
 quest of the matron, came to me ; my features were undistinguish- 
 able , but elsewhere I was all right. As I stripped he examined 
 my arms. 
 
 '*It seemed strange," observed he, **that the bigger boy 
 should be so severely punished ; but this boy's arms are like little 
 sledge-hammers. I recommend you," said he to the other 
 boys , not to fight with him , for some day or other he '11 kill one 
 of you." 
 
 This piece of advice was not forgotten by the other boys, and 
 from that day I was the cock of the school. The name of Cinderella, 
 given me by Barnaby , in ridicule of my mother's death , was im- 
 mediately abandoned, and I suffered no more persecution. It was 
 the custom of the Domine, whenever two boys fought, to flog them 
 both; but, in this instance, it was not followed up, because I 
 was not the aggressor , and my adversary narrowly escaped with 
 his life. I was mider the matron's care for a week , and Barnaby 
 under the surgeon's hands for about the same time. 
 
 Neither was I less successful in my studies. 1 learnt rapidly 
 after I had conquered the first rudiments ; but I had another diffi- 
 
30 
 
 culty to conquer , which was my habit of construing every thing 
 according to my confined ideas; the force of association had be- 
 come so strong that I could not overcome it for a considerable 
 length of time. Mr. Knapps continually complained of my being 
 obstinate, when, in fact, I was anxious to please, as well as to 
 learn. For instance, in spelling, the first syllable always pro- 
 duced the association with something connected with my former 
 way of life. I recollect the Domine once , and only once, gave me 
 a caning , about a fortnight after I went to the school. 
 
 I had been brought up by Mr. Knapps as contumelious. 
 Jacob Faithful, how is this? thine head is good, yet wilt thou 
 refuse learning. Tell me now, what does c-a-t spell." 
 
 It was the pitch-pipe to cat-head, and I answered accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 '*Nay, Jacob, it spells cat; take care of thy head on thy 
 next reply. Understand me, head is not understood. Jacob, 
 thy head is in jeopardy. Now, Jacob, what does m- a- 1 spell?" 
 
 '*Chafing-mat," replied I. 
 
 **It spells mat only, silly boy; the chafing will be on my part 
 directly. Now, Jacob, what does d-o-g spell?" 
 Dog-kennel." 
 
 "Dog, Jacob, without the kennel. Thou art very contume- 
 lious , and deservest to be rolled in the kennel. Now, Jacob, this 
 is the last time that thou triflest with me, what does h-a-t 
 spell?" 
 
 **Fur-cap," replied I, after some hesitation. 
 
 *' Jacob, I feel the wrath rising within me, yet would I fain 
 spare thee; if h-a-t spell fur-cap, pray advise me, what doth 
 c-a-p spell then?" 
 
 **Capstern." 
 
 Indeed, Jacob, thy stern, as well as thy head, are in danger, 
 and I suppose then w-i-n-d spells windlass , does it not?" 
 * ' Yes , Sir ," replied I , pleased to find that he agreed with me. 
 
 Upon the same principle, what does r-a-t spell?" 
 ''Rat, Sir," replied I. 
 
 **Nay, Jacob, r-a-t must spell rattan, and as thou hast 
 missed thine own mode of spelling, thou shalt not miss the cane." 
 
31 
 
 The Domine thea applied it to my shoulders with considerable unc- 
 tion, much to the delight of Mr. Knapps, who thought the punish- 
 ment was much too small for the offence. But I soon extricated 
 myself from these associations , as my ideas extended , and was 
 considered by the Domine as the cleverest boy in the schooL 
 Whether it were from natural intellect , or from my brain having 
 lain fallow, as it were, for so many years, or probably from the two 
 causes combined, I certainly learnt almost by instinct. I read my 
 lesson once over, and threw my book aside, for I knew it all. I had 
 not been six months at the school, before I discovered that, in a 
 thousand instances , the affection of a father appeared towards me 
 under the rough crust of the Domine. I think it was on the third 
 day of the seventh month, that I afforded him a day of triumph and 
 warming of his heart , when he took me for the first time into his 
 little study , and put the Latin Accidence into my hands. I learnt 
 my first lesson in a quarter of an hour ; and I remember well how 
 that unsmiling , grave man , looked into my smiling eyes, parting 
 the chestnut curls , which the matron would not cut off, from my 
 brows, and saying, Benefecisti, Jacob e. Many times af- 
 terwards , when the lesson was over , he would fix his eyes upon 
 me, fallback on his chair, and make me recount all I could re- 
 member of my former life , which was really nothing but a record 
 of perceptions and feelings. He could attend to me, and as I 
 related some early and singular impression , some conjecture of 
 what I saw, yet could not comprehend, on the shore which I had 
 never touched , he would rub his hands with enthusiasm , and ex- 
 claim, *'I have found a new book — an album, whereon I may 
 write the deeds of heroes and the words of sages. Carissime 
 Jacobe! how happy shall we be when we get into Virgil!" I 
 hardly need say that I loved him — I did so from my heart, and 
 learnt with avidity to please him. I felt that I was of consequence 
 — my confidence in myself was unbounded. I walked proudly, yet 
 I was not vain. My school-fellows hated me , but they feared me 
 as much for my own prowess as my interest with the master ; but 
 still many were the bitter gibes and inuendoes which I was obliged 
 to hear as I sat down with them to our meals. At other times I 
 held communion with the Domine, the worthy old matron, and 
 
32 
 
 my books. We walked out every day, at first attended by Mr* 
 Knapps , the usher. The boys would not walk with me without 
 they were ordered , and if ordered , most unwillingly. Yet I had 
 given no cause of offence. The matron found it out , told the Do- 
 mine , and ever after that, the Domine attended the boys, and led 
 me by the hand. 
 
 This was of the greatest advantage to me , as he answered all 
 my questions , which were not few , and each day I advanced in 
 every variety of knowledge. Before I had been eighteen months at 
 school, the Domine was unhappy without my company, and I was 
 equally anxious for his presence. He was a father to me, and I 
 loved him as a son should love a father, and, as it will hereafter 
 prove , he was my guide through life. 
 
 But although the victory over Barnaby Bracegirdle, and the idea 
 of my prowess, procured me an enforced respect, still the Do- 
 raine's good-will towards me was tbe occasion of a settled hostility. 
 Affront me, or attack me openly, they dare not; but supported as 
 the boys were by Mr. Knapps , the usher, who was equally jealous 
 of my favour, and equally mean in spirit , they caballed to ruin me, 
 if possible , in the good opinion of my master. Barnaby Brace- 
 girdle had a talent for caricature , which was well known to all but 
 the Domine. His first attempt against me was a caricature of my 
 mother's death , in which she was represented as a lamp supplied 
 from a gin-bottle, and giving flame out of her mouth. This was 
 told to me , but I did not see it. It was given by Barnaby to Mr. 
 Knapps, who highly commended it, and put it into his desk. After 
 which , Barnaby made an oft-repeated caricature of the Domine 
 with a vast nose, which he showed to the usher as my perfor- 
 mance. The usher understood what Barnaby was at, and put it 
 into his desk without comment. Several other ludicrous carica- 
 tures were made of the Domine , and of the matron , all of which 
 were consigned to Mr. Knapps by the boys, as being the production 
 of my pencil; but this was not sufficient — it was necessary I 
 should be more clearly identified. It so happened , that one even- 
 ing, when sitting with the Domine at my Latin, the matron and Mr. 
 Knapps being in the adjoining room, the light, which had burnt 
 close down , fell in the socket and went out. The Domine rose to 
 
33 
 
 get another ; the matron also got up to fetch away the candlestick 
 with the same intent. They met in the dark , and ran their heads 
 together pretty hard. As this event was only known to Mr. Knapps 
 and myself, he communicated it to Barnaby , wondering whether I 
 should not make it a subject of one of my caricatures. Barnaby 
 took the hint; in the course of a few hours, this caricature was 
 added to the others. Mr. Knapps, to further his views, took an 
 opportunity to mention with encomium my talent for drawing, 
 adding that he had seen several of my performances. **The boy 
 hath talent/* replied the Domine; *' he is a rich mine, from which 
 much precious metal is to be obtained.'* 
 
 I hear that thou hast the talent of drawing , Jacob said he to 
 me, a day or two afterwards. 
 
 **Inever hadin my life. Sir," replied I. 
 
 **Nay, Jacob; I like modesty, but modesty should never lead 
 to a denial of the truth. Remember, Jacob, that thou do not repeat 
 the fault.'* 
 
 I made no answer, as I felt convinced that I was not in fault; 
 but that evening I requested the Domine to lend me a pencil , as I 
 wished to try and draw. For some days, various scraps of my per- 
 formance were produced , and received commendation. The boy 
 draweth well," observed the Domine to Mr. Knapps, as he 
 examined my performance through his spectacles. 
 
 *'Why should he have denied his being able to draw?" ob- 
 served the usher. 
 
 **It was a fault arising from modesty or want of confidence — 
 even a virtue, carried to excess, may lead us into error." 
 
 The next attempt of Barnaby was to obtain the Cornelius Nepos, 
 which I then studied. This was effected by Mr. Knapps , who took 
 it out of the Domine's study, and put it into Barnaby's possession, 
 who drew on the fly-leaf, on which was my name, a caricature head 
 of the Domine ; and under my own name , which I had written on 
 the leaf, added, in my hand, fecit, so that it appeared, Jacob 
 Faithful fecit. Having done this, the leaf was torn out of the 
 book , and consigned to the usher with the rest. The plot was now 
 ripe; and the explosion soon ensued. Mr. Knapps told the Do- 
 mine that I drew caricatures of my school-fellows. The Domine 
 
 Jacob Faithful, 3 
 
34 
 
 taxed me, and I denied it. So you denied drawing," observed 
 the usher. 
 
 A few days passed away, when Mr. Knapps informed the Do- 
 mine that I had been caricaturing him and Mrs. Bately, the 
 matron , and that he had proofs of it. I had then gone to bed ; the 
 Domine was much surprised , and thought it impossible that I 
 could be so ungrateful. Mr. Knapps said that he should make tha 
 charge openly, and prove it the next morning in the school-room ; 
 and wound up the wrong by describing me , in several points , as a 
 cunning, good-for-nothing, although clever boy. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Mr. Knapps thinks to catch me napping, hut the plot is discovered, 
 and Barnahy Bracegirdle is ohliged to loosen his hraces for the second 
 time on my account. — Drawing caricatures ends in drawing hlood. — 
 The usher is ushered out of the school, and I am very nearly ushered 
 into the next world, hut instead of heing hound on so long a journey, 
 I am hound "'prentice to a waterman.'* 
 
 Ignorant of what had passed, I slept soundly; and the next 
 morning found the matron very grave with me , which I could not 
 comprehend. The Domine also took no notice of my morning 
 salute : but supposing him to be wrapt in Euclid at the time , I 
 thought little of it. The breakfast passed over , and the bell rang 
 for school. We were all assembled ; the Domine walked in with a 
 very magisterial air , followed by Mr. Knapps , who , instead of 
 parting company when he arrived at his own desk , continued his 
 course with the Domine to his pulpit. We all knew that there was 
 something in the wind ; but of all, perhaps I was the least alarmed. 
 The Domine unfolded his large handkerchief, waved it, and blew 
 his nose and the school into profound silence. ** Jacob Faithful, 
 draw near said he , in a tone which proved that the affair was 
 serious. I drew near, wondering. **Thou hast been accused by 
 Mr. Knapps of caricaturing , and holding up to the ridicule of the 
 school, me — thy master. Upon any other boy, such disrespect 
 should be visited severely ; but from thee , Jacob , I must add , in 
 the words of Caesar, *et tu Brute,* I expected, I had a right 
 
35 
 
 to expect, otherwise. In se animi ingrati crimen vitia 
 omnia condit. Thou understandest me , Jacob — guilty, or not 
 guilty?" 
 
 Not guilty, Sir," replied I, firmly. 
 
 He pleadeth not guilty, Mr. Knapps ; proceed, then, to prove 
 thy charge." 
 
 Mr. Knapps then went to his desk, and brought out the draw- 
 ings with which he had been supplied by Barnaby Bracegirdle and 
 the other boys. **These drawings, Sir, which you will please to 
 look over, have been all given up to me as the performance of Jacob 
 Faithful. At first, I could not believe it to be true; but you will 
 perceive , at once , that they are all by the same hand." 
 
 *'That I acknowledge," said the Domine; **and all reflect upon 
 my nose. It is true that my nose is of large dimensions, but it 
 was the will of Heaven that I should be so endowed; yet are the 
 noses of these figures even larger than mine own could warrant , if 
 the limner were correct, and not malicious. Still have they merit," 
 continued the Domine , looking at some of them ; and I heard a 
 gentle cluck, cluck, in his throat, as he laughed at his own 
 mis -representations. '*Artis adumbratae meruit ceu se- 
 dulalaudem, as Prudeutius hath it. I have no time to finish 
 the quotation." 
 
 Here is one drawing, Sir," continued Mr. Knapps , " which 
 proves to me that Jacob Faithful is the party; in which you and 
 Mrs. Bately are shown up to ridicule. Who would have been 
 aware that the candle went out in your study , except Jacob Faith - 
 ful ? " 
 
 *'I perceive," replied the Domine, looking at it through his 
 spectacles, when put into his hand, ** the arcana of the study have 
 bieen violated." 
 
 **But, Sir," continued Mr. Knapps, "here is a more convin- 
 cing proof. You observe this caricature of yourself,, with his own 
 name put to it — his own hai)d-writing. I recognised it imme- 
 diately ; and happening to turn over his Cornelius Nepos, observed 
 the first bl^ink leaf torn out. Here it is , Sir, and you will observe 
 that it fits on to the remainder of the leaf in the book exactly." 
 
 I perceive that it doth ; and am grieved to find that such is the 
 
 3* 
 
36 
 
 case. Jacob Faithful, thou art convicted of disrespect and of false- 
 hood. Where is Simon Swapps? '* 
 
 ''If you please, Sir, may not I defend myself?" replied I. 
 ''Am I to be flogged unheard? " 
 
 "Nay, that were an injustice , " replied the Domine , "but 
 what defence canst thou ofl'er? 0 puer infelix et scele- 
 ratus!" 
 
 ' ' May I look at those caricatures, Sir ? " said I. 
 The Domine handed them to me in silence. I looked them all 
 over, and immediately knew them to be drawn by Barnaby Brace- 
 girdle. The last particularly struck me. I had felt confounded 
 and frightened with the strong evidence brought against me ; but 
 tliis re-assured me , and I spoke boldly. "These drawings are by 
 Barnaby Bracegirdle, Sir, and not by me. I never drew a carica- 
 ture in my life." 
 
 "So didst thou assert that thou couldst not draw, and after- 
 wards provedst by thy pencil to the contrary, Jacob Faithful." 
 
 "I knew not that 1 was able to draw when I said so; but 1 
 wished to draw when you supposed I was able — I did not like that 
 you should give me credit for what I could not do. It was to please 
 you, Sir, that I asked for the pencil." 
 
 "I wish it were as thou statest, Jacob — I wish from my in- 
 most soul that thou wert not guilty." 
 
 "Will you ask Mr. Knapps from whom he had these drawings, 
 and at what time? There are a great many of them." 
 
 "Answer, Mr. Knapps, to the question of Jacob Faithful." 
 
 * ' They have been given to me by the boys at different times 
 during this last month." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Knapps, point out the boys who gave them." 
 
 Mr. Knapps called out eight or ten boys, who came forward. 
 
 "Did Barnaby Bracegirdle give you none of them, Mr. 
 Knapps ? " said I , perceiving that Barnaby was not summoned. 
 
 "No," replied Mr. Knapps. 
 
 "If you please, Sir," said I to the Domine , " with respect to 
 the leaf out of my Nepos , the Jacob Faithful was written on it by 
 me, on the day that you gave it to me; but the fecit, and the 
 
37 
 
 caricature of yourself, is not mine. How it came there I don't 
 know." 
 
 '*Thou hast disproved nothing, Jacob," replied theDomine. 
 But I have proved something , Sir. On what day was it that 
 I asked you for the pencil to draw with? Was it not on a Sa- 
 turday?" 
 
 "Last Saturday week, I think it was." 
 
 "Well, then, Sir, Mr. Knapps told you the day before, that I 
 could draw?" 
 
 "He did; and thou deniedst it." 
 
 "How, then, does Mr. Knapps account for not producing 
 those caricatures of mine , which he says that he has collected for a 
 whole month? Why didn't he give them to you before? " 
 
 " Thou puttest it shrewdly ," replied the Domine. "Answer, 
 Mr. Knapps , why didst thou , for a fortnight at the least , conceal 
 thy knowledge of his offence?" 
 
 "I wished to have more proofs," replied the usher. 
 
 "Thouhearest, Jacob Faithful." 
 
 "Pray, Sir, did you ever hear me speak of my poor mother but 
 with kindness?" 
 
 "Never, Jacob ; thou hast ever appeared dutiful." 
 
 "Please, Sir, to call up John Williams." 
 
 "John Williams, No. 37 , draw near." 
 
 "Williams," said I, "did you not tell me that Barnaby Brace- 
 girdle had drawn my mother flaming at the mouth?" 
 
 "Yes, I did." 
 
 My indignation now found vent in a torrent of tears. **Now, 
 Sir," cried I, "if you believe that I drew the caricatures of you 
 and Mrs. Bately — did I draw this, which is by the same person ? " 
 And I handed up to theDomine the caricature of my mother, which 
 Mr. Knapps had inadvertently produced at the bottom of the rest. 
 Mr. Knapps turned white as a sheet. The Domine looked at the 
 caricature, and was silent for some time. At last he turned to the 
 usher. 
 
 "From whom didst thou obtain this , Mr. Knapps?" 
 Mr. Knapps replied, in his confusion, "From Barnaby Brace- 
 girdle." 
 
38 
 
 "It was but this moment, thou didst state that thou hadst re- 
 ceived none from Barnaby Bracegirdle. Thou hast contradicted 
 thyself, Mr. Knapps. Jacob did not draw his mother; and the 
 pencil is the same as that which drew the rest — ergo, he did not, 
 r really believe, draw one of them. Ite procul fraudes. God, 
 I thank thee, that the innocent have been protected. Narrowly 
 hast thou escaped these toils , 0 Jacob — Cum populo et duce 
 fraudulento. And now for punishment. Barnaby Bracegirdle, 
 thou gavest this caricature to Mr. Knapps; from whence hadst 
 thou it? Lie not." 
 
 Barnaby turned red and white, and then acknowledged that the 
 drawing was his own. 
 
 ** You boys," cried the Domine, waving his rod which he had 
 seized, '*you gave these drawings to Mr. Knapps; tell me from 
 whom they came." 
 
 The boys , frightened at the Domine*s looks , immediately re- 
 plied in a breath, ** From Barnaby Bracegirdle." 
 
 **Then, Barnaby Bracegirdle, from whom didst thou receive 
 them?" inquired the Domine. Barnaby was dumb-founded. **Tell 
 the truth ; didst not thou draw them thyself, since thou didst not 
 receive them from other people?" 
 
 Barnaby fell upon his knees , and related the whole circum- 
 stances , particularly the way in which the Cornelius Nepos had 
 been obtained, through the medium of Mr. Knapps. The indig- 
 nation of the Domine was now beyond all bounds. I never had 
 seen him so moved before. He appeared to rise at least a foot more 
 in stature: his eyes sparkled, his great nose turned red, his 
 nostrils dilated , and his mouth was more than half open , to give 
 vent to the ponderous breathing from his chest. His whole appear- 
 ance was withering to the culprits. 
 
 "For thee, thou base, degraded, empty-headed, and veno- 
 mous little abortion of a man , I have no words to signify my con- 
 tempt. By the governors of this charity I leave thy conduct to be 
 judged ; but until they meet, thou shalt not pollute and contami- 
 nate the air of this school by thy presence. If thou hast one spark 
 of good feeling in thy petty frame, beg pardon of this poor boy, 
 whom thou wouldst have ruined by thy treachery. If not , hastea 
 
39 
 
 to depart, lest in my wrath I apply to the teacher the punishment 
 intended for the scholar, but of which thou art more deserving than 
 even Barnaby Bracegirdle." 
 
 Mr. Knapps said nothing, hastened out of the school, and that 
 evening quitted his domicile. When the governors met he was 
 expelled with ignominy. ** Simon Swapps, hoist up Barnaby 
 Bracegirdle. " Most strenuously and most indefatigably was the 
 birch applied to Barnaby, a second time, through me. Barnaby 
 howled and kicked, howled and kicked, and kicked again. At 
 last the Domine was tired. **Consonat omne nemus stre- 
 pitu, (for nemus read school-room,)" exclaimed the Domine, 
 laying down the rod, and pulling out his handkerchief to wipe his 
 face. **Calcitrat, ardescunt germani caede bimem- 
 bres, that last quotation is happy," [cluck, cluck.] He then 
 blew his nose , addressed the boys in a long oration — paid me a 
 handsome compliment upon my able defence — proved to all those 
 who chose to listen to him, that innocence would always confound 
 guilt — intimated to Barnaby that he must leave the school, and 
 then , finding himself worn out with exhaustion , gave the boys a 
 holiday, that they might reflect upon what had passed , and which 
 they duly profited by, in playing at marbles , and peg in the ring. 
 He then dismissed the school , took me by the hand , and led me 
 into his study, where he gave vent to his strong and affectionate 
 feelings towards me until the matron came to tell us that dinner 
 was ready. 
 
 After this , every thing went on well. The Domine*s kindness 
 and attention were unremitting, and no one ever thought of ca- 
 balling against me. My progress became most rapid ; I had con- 
 quered Virgil , taken Tacitus by storm , and was reading the odes 
 of Horace. I had passed triumphantly through decimals, and 
 was busily employed in mensuration of solids , when one evening 
 I was seized with a giddiness in my head. I complained to the 
 matron; she felt my hands, pronounced me feverish, and ordered 
 me to bed. I passed a restless night ; the next morning I attempted 
 to rise , but a heavy burning ball rolled as it were in my head , and 
 I fell back on my pillow. The matron came , was alarmed at my 
 state, and sent for the surgeon, who pronounced that I had 
 
40 
 
 caught the typhus fever , then raging through the yicinity. This 
 was the first time in my life that I had known a day's sickness — 
 it was a lesson I had yet to learn. The surgeon bled me, and 
 giving directions to the matron , promised to call again. In a few 
 hours I was quite delirious — my senses ran wild. One moment 
 I thought I was with little Sarah Drummond , walking in green 
 fields , holding her by the hand. I turned round , and she was no 
 longer there , but I was in the lighter , and my hand grasped the 
 cinders of my mother ; my father stood before me, again jumped 
 overboard and disappeared ; again the dark black column ascended 
 from the cabin , and I was prostrate on the deck. Then I was 
 once more alone on the placid and noble Thames, the moon 
 shining bright , and the sweep in my hand , tiding up the reach, 
 and admiring the foliage which hung in dark shadows over the 
 banks. I saw the slopes of green, so pure and so fresh by that 
 sweet light, and in the distance counted the numerous spires of 
 the great monster city, and beheld the various bridges spanning 
 over the water. The faint ripple of the tide was harmony, the 
 reflection of the moon, beauty; I felt happiness in my heart; I 
 was no longer the charity-boy, but the pilot of the barge. Then, 
 as I would survey the scene , there was something that invariably 
 presented itself between my eyes and the object of my scrutiny; 
 whichever way Hooked, it stood in my way, and I could not re- 
 move it. It was like a cloud , yet transparent , and with a certain 
 undefined shape. I tried for some time , but in vain, to decypher 
 it, but could not. At last it appeared to cohese into a form — it was 
 the Domine's great nose, magnified into that of the Scripture , as 
 the tower which looketh towards Damascus." My temples throbbed 
 with agony — I burned all over. I had no exact notions of death in 
 bed, except that of my poor mother, and I thought that I was to die 
 like her ; the horrible fear seized me that all this burning was but 
 prefatory to bursting out into flame and consuming into ashes. The 
 dread hung about my young heart and turned that to ice, while the 
 rest of my body was on fire. This was my last recollection, and then 
 all was blank. For many days I lay unconscious of either pain or ex- 
 istence ; when I awoke from my stupor , my wandering senses gra- 
 dually returning, I opened my eyes, and dimly perceived something 
 
41 
 
 before me that cut across my vision in a diagonal line. As the 
 mist cleared away, and I recovered myself, I made out that it was 
 the nose of Domine Dobiensis , who was kneeling at the bed-side, 
 his nose adumbrating the coverlid of my bed, his spectacles 
 dimmed with tears , and his long grey locks falling on each side, 
 and shadowing his eyes. I was not frightened , but I was too weak 
 to stir or speak. His prayer-book was in his hand, and he still 
 remained on his knees. He had been praying for me. Supposing 
 me still insensible , he broke out in the following soliloquy : — 
 
 **Naviculator parvus pallidus — how beautiful even 
 in death ! My poor lighter-boy, that hath mastered the rudiments, 
 and triumphed over the Accidence — but to die ! Levior puer, 
 a puerile conceit, yet I love it, as I do thee. How my heart bleeds 
 for thee ! The icy breath of death hath whitened thee , as the hoar 
 frost whitens the autumnal rose. Why wert thou transplanted 
 from thine own element? Young prince of the stream — lord of 
 the lighter — 'Ratis rex et m agister' — heir apparent to the 
 tiller — betrothed to the sweep — wedded to the deck — how art 
 thou laid low! Where is the blooming cheek, ruddy with the 
 browning air? where the bright and swimming eye? Alas ! where? 
 *Tum breviter dirae mortis aperta via est,* as sweet 
 Tibullus hath it;'* and the Domine sobbed anew. *'Had this 
 stroke fallen upon me, the aged, the ridiculed, the little regarded, 
 the ripe one for the sickle , it would have been well , — (yet fain 
 would I have instructed thee still more before I quitted the scene 
 — fain have left thee the mantle of learning). Thou knowest. Lord, 
 that I walk wearily, as in a desert, that I am heavily burdened, 
 and that my infirmities are many. Must I then mourn over thee, 
 thou promising one — must I say with the epigramAatist — 
 
 *Hoc jacet in fumulo , raptug puerilibus annig, 
 Jacob Faithful domini cura, dolorque suil* 
 
 True , most true. Hast thou quitted the element thou so joyotisly 
 controlledst , and hast come upon the terra firma for thy grave? 
 
 'Sis licet inde gibi tellus placata, levisque, 
 Artificis levior non poteg egge manu.' 
 
 Earth, lay light upon the lighter-boy — the lotus, the water-lily, 
 that hath been cast on shore to die. Hadst thou lived , Jacob , I 
 
42 
 
 would have taught thee the Humanities ; we would have conferred 
 pleasantly together. I would have poured out my learning to thee, 
 ray Absalom , my son I " 
 
 He rose, and stood over me; the tears coursed down his 
 long nose from both his eyes , and from the point of it poured out 
 like a little rain gutter upon the coverlid. I understood not all his 
 words , but I understood the spirit of them — it was love. I 
 feebly stretched forth my arms, and articulated "Domine!" 
 The old man clasped his hands, looked upwards , and said, ♦'O 
 God, I thank thee — he will live. Hush, hush, my sweet one, 
 thou must not prate ; ** and he retired on tiptoe , and I heard him 
 mutter triumphantly, as he walked away, •*He called me 'Do- 
 mine!'" 
 
 From that hour I rapidly recovered , and in three weeks was 
 again at my studies. I was now within six months of being fourteen 
 years old , and Mr. Drummond , who had occasionally called to 
 ascertain my progress , came to confer with the Domine upon my 
 future prospects. All that I can do for him , Mr. Dobbs said 
 my former master, **is to bind him apprentice to serve his time 
 on the River Thames, and that cannot be done until he is fourteen. 
 Will the rules of the school permit his remaining?" 
 
 '*The regulations do not exactly, but I will," replied the Do- 
 mine. have asked nothing for my long services, and the go- 
 vernors will not refuse me such a slight favour; should they, I 
 will charge myself with him , that he may not lose his precious 
 time. What say est thou , Jacob , dost thou feel inclined to return 
 to thy father Thames?" 
 
 I replied in the affirmative , for the recollections of my former 
 life were thosefof independence and activity. 
 
 '*Thou hast decided well, Jacob — the tailor at his needle, 
 the shoemaker at his last , the serving boy to an exacting mistress, 
 and all those apprenticed to the various trades , have no time for 
 improvement , but afloat there are moments of quiet and of peace 
 — the still night for reflection, the watch for meditation; and 
 even the adverse wind or tide leaves moments of leisure , which 
 may be employed to advantage. Then wilt thou call to mind the 
 stores of learning which I have laid up in thy garner, and wilt add 
 
43 
 
 to them by perseverance and industry. Thou hast yet six months 
 to profit by, and , with the blessing of God , those six months 
 shall not be thrown away." 
 
 Mr. Drummond having received my consent to be bound ap- 
 prentice, wished me farewell, and departed. During the six 
 months, the Domine pressed me hard, almost too hard, but 
 I worked for love, and to please him I was most diligent. At 
 last the time had flown away , the six months had more than ex- 
 pired , and Mr. Drummond made his appearance , with a servant, 
 carrying a bundle under his arm. I slipped off my pepper-and- 
 salt, my yellows and my badge, dressed myself in a neat blue 
 jacket and trousers, and, with many exhortations from the Domine, 
 and kind wishes from the matron , I bade farewell to them , and to 
 the charity school , and in an hour was once more under the roof 
 of the kind Mrs. Drummond. 
 
 But how different were my sensations to those which oppressed 
 me when I had before entered ! I was no longer a little savage , un- 
 educated and confused in my ideas. On the contrj^y, I was full 
 of imagination, confident in myself, and in my own powers, 
 cultivated in mind , and proud of my success. The finer feelings 
 of my nature had been called into play. I felt gratitude , humility, 
 And love, at the same time that I was aware of my own capabilities. 
 In person I had much improved , as well as much increased in sta- 
 ture. I walked confident and elastic , joying in the world, hoping, 
 anticipating, and kindly disposed towards my fellow- creatures. 
 I knew, I felt my improvement, my total change of character, and 
 it was with sparkling eyes that I looked up at the window , where I 
 saw Mrs. Drummond and little Sarah watching my return and re- 
 appearance , after an absence of three years. 
 
 Mrs. Drummond had been prepared by her husband to find a 
 great change ; but still, she looked for a second or two with wonder 
 as I entered the room , with my hat in my hand , and paid my 
 obeisance. She extended her hand to me , which I took respect- 
 fully. 
 
 I should not have known you, Jacob; you have grown quite 
 a man said she , smiling. Sarah held back , looking at me with 
 pleased astonishment; but I went up to her, and she timidly ac- 
 
44 
 
 cepted my hand. I had left her as my superior — I returned, and 
 she soon perceived that I had a legitimate right to the command. 
 It was some time before she would converse , and much longer be- 
 fore she would become intimate ; but when she did so , it was no 
 longer the little girl encouraging the untutored boy by kindness, or 
 laughing at his absurdities , but looking up to him with respect 
 and affection , and taking his opinion as a guide for her own. I 
 had gained the power of knowledge. 
 
 By th-e regulations of the Watermen's Company , it is necessary 
 that every one who wishes to ply on the river on his own account, 
 should serve as an apprentice , from the age of fourteen to twenty- 
 one; at all events, he must serve an apprenticeship for seven 
 years , and be fourteen years old before he signs the articles. This 
 apprenticeship may be served in any description of vessel which 
 sails or works on the river, whether it be barge, lighter, fishing- 
 smack , or a boat of larger dimensions ; and it is not until that ap- 
 prenticeship is served, that he can work on his own account, either 
 in a wherry , or any other craft. Mr. Drummond offered to article 
 me on board of one of his own lighters , free of all expense , leaving 
 me at liberty to change into any other vessel that I might think pro- 
 per. I gratefully accepted the proposal , went with him to Water- 
 men's Hall, signed the papers, and thus was, at the age of 
 fourteen, **Bound 'prentice to a waterman.'* 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 I am reeommended to learn to swim, and I take the friendly advice. — 
 Heavy suspicion on board of the lighter, and a mystery, out of which 
 Mrs. Radclifife would have made a romance. 
 
 Jacob, this is Marables, who has charge of the Polly barge," 
 said Mr. Drummond, who had sent for me into his office, a few 
 days after my arrival at his house. Marables," continued my 
 protector, addressing Che man , *'I have told you that this lad is 
 bound 'prentice to the Polly. I expect you will look after him , and 
 treat him kindly. No blows or ill treatment. If he does not con- 
 duct himself well , (but well I'm sure he will) , let me know when 
 you come back from your trip." 
 
45 
 
 During this speech , I was scrutinising the outward man of my 
 future controller. He was stout and well-built, iqclining to cor- 
 pulence ; his features remarkably good , although his eyes w ere 
 not large. His mouth was very small , and there was a good-na- 
 tured smile on his lips , as he answered , * ' I never treated a cat ill, 
 master." 
 
 I believe not," replied Mr. Drummond; ** but l am anxious 
 that Jacob should do well in the world , and therefore let you know 
 that he will always have my protection , so long as he conducts 
 himself properly." 
 
 '*We shall be very good friends. Sir, I'll answer for it, if I 
 may judge from the cut of his jib," replied Marables, extending 
 to me an immense hand , as broad as it was long. 
 
 After this introduction , Mr. Drummond gave him some direc- 
 tions , and left us together. 
 
 *' Come and see the craft, boy," said Marables; and I followed 
 him to the barge , which was one of those fitted with a mast which 
 lowered down and hauled up again, as required. She plied up 
 and down the river as far as the Nore, sometimes extending her 
 voyage still farther; but that was only in the summer months. She 
 had a large cabin abaft, and a cuddy forward. The cabin was 
 locked , and I could not examine it. 
 
 *'This will be your berth," said Marables, pointing to the 
 cuddy-hatch forward ; ** you '11 have it all to yourself. The other 
 man and I sleep abaft." 
 
 Have you another man, then?" 
 
 *'Yes, I have, Jacob," replied he; and then muttering to 
 himself, *' I wish I had not — I wish the barge was only between 
 us, Jacob , or that you had not been sent on board ," continued ho 
 gravely. "It would have been better — much better." And he 
 walked aft, whistling in a low tone, looking down sadly on the 
 deck. 
 
 Is your cabin large?" inquired I, as he came forward. 
 **Yes, large enough: but I cannot show it to you now — he 
 has the key." 
 
 •*What, the other man under you?" 
 
46 
 
 **Yes," replied Marables, hastily, **rYe been thinking, 
 Jacob , that you may as well remain on shore till we start. You 
 can be of no use here." 
 
 To this I had no objection; but I often went on board during 
 the fortnight that the barge remained , and soon became very par- 
 tial to Marables. There was a kindness about him that won me, 
 and I was distressed to perceive that he was often very melancholy. 
 What surprised me most was , to find that during the first week 
 the cabin was constantly locked , and that Marables had not the 
 key; it appeared so strange that he, as master of the barge, should 
 be locked out of his own cabin by his inferior. 
 
 One day I went early on board , and found not only the cabin 
 doors open , but the other man belonging to her walking up and 
 down the deck with Marables. He was a well-looking , tall, ac- 
 tive young man , apparently not thirty, with a general boldness of 
 countenance strongly contrasted with a furtive glance of the eye. 
 He had a sort of blue smock-frock over all , and the trousers which 
 appeared below were of a finer texture than those usually worn by 
 people of his condition. 
 
 **This is the lad who is bound to the barge," said Marables. 
 ** Jacob, this is Fleming." 
 
 **So, younker," said Fleming, after casting an inquiring eye 
 upon me , you are to sail with us , are you? It's my opinion that 
 your room would be better than your company. However, if you 
 keep your eyes open , I 'd advise you to keep your mouth shut. 
 When I don't like people's company , I sometimes give them a 
 hoist into the stream — so keep a sharp look out , my joker." 
 
 Not very well pleased with this address, I answered, **I 
 thought Marables had charge of the craft , and that I was to look to 
 him for orders." 
 
 Did you, indeed!" replied Fleming , with a sneer. *'Isay, 
 my lad , can you swim? " 
 
 *'No, I can't," replied I— *a wish I could." 
 
 "Well, then, take my advice — learn to swim as fast as you 
 can ; for I've a strong notion that one day or other , I shall take 
 you by the scruf of the neck , and send you to look after your 
 father." 
 
47 
 
 ** Fleming! Fleming! pray be quiet!" said Marables, who 
 had several times pulled him by the sleeve. '*He 's only joking, 
 Jacob continued Marables to me , as , indignant at the mention 
 of my father's death , I was walking away to the shore , over the 
 other lighters. 
 
 *'WelI," replied I, turning round, '*if I am to be tossed over- 
 board, it 's just as well to let Mr. Drummond know, that if I 
 missing he may guess what 's become of me." 
 
 *'Pooh! nonsense!" said Fleming, immediately altering his 
 manner and coming to me where I stood , in the barge next to 
 them. "Give us your hand, my boy; I was only trying what 
 stuff you were made of. Come, shake hands; I wasn't in 
 earnest. " 
 
 I took the proffered hand, and went on shore. ** Neverthe- 
 less ," thought I , **I '11 learn to swim ; for I rather think he was 
 in earnest." And I took my first lesson that day ; and , by dint of 
 practice , soon acquired that very necessary art. Had it not been 
 for the threat of Fleming, I probably should not have thought of it ; 
 but it occurred to me that I might tumble , even if I were not 
 thrown overboard , and that a knowledge of swimming would do 
 no harm. 
 
 The day before the barge was to proceed down the river to 
 Sheerness , with a cargo of bricks , I called upon my worthy old 
 master, Domine Dobiensis. 
 
 '* Salve puer!" cried the old man, who was sitting in his 
 study. "Verily, Jacob, thou art come in good time. I am at 
 leisure , and will give thee a lesson. Sit down , my child." 
 
 The Domine opened the iEneid of Virgil, and commenced 
 forthwith. I was fortunate enough to please him with my off-hand 
 translation ; and , as he closed the bool^ , I told him that I had 
 called to bid him farewell, as we started at daylight the next 
 morning. 
 
 "Jacob," said he, "thou hast profited well by the lessons 
 which I have bestowed upon thee : now take heed of that advice 
 which I am now about to offer to thee. There are many who will 
 tell thee that thy knowledge is of no use , for what avail can the 
 Latin tongue be to a boy on board of a lighter? Others may think 
 
48 
 
 that I have done wrong thus to instruct thee , as thy knowledge 
 may render thee vain — nil exactius eruditiusque est — or 
 discontended with thy situation in life. Such is too often the case, 
 I grant; but it is because education is not as general as it ought to 
 be. Were all educated , the superiority acquired or presumed 
 upon by education would be lost, and the nation would not only 
 be wiser, but happier. It would judge more rightly , would not 
 condemn the measures of its rulers , which at present it cannot 
 understand , and would not be led away by the clamour and mis- 
 representation of the disaffected. But I must not digress , as time 
 is short. Jacob, I feel that thou wilt not be spoilt by the knowledge 
 instilled into thee ; but mark me, parade it not, for it will be va- 
 nity, and make thee enemies. Cultivate thyself as much as thou 
 canst, but in due season — thy duties to thy employer must be 
 first attended to — but treasure up what thou hast, and lay up 
 more when thou canst. Consider it as hidden wealth , which may 
 hereafter be advantageously employed. Thou art now but an ap- 
 prentice in a barge ; but what mayst thou not be , Jacob , if thou 
 art diligent — if thou fear God , and be honest? I will now call to 
 my mind some examples to stimulate thee in thy career.'* 
 
 Here the Domine brought forward about forty or fifty instances 
 from history, in which people from nothing had risen to the highest 
 rank and consideration ; but, although I fistened to them very at- 
 tentively , the reader will probably not regret the omission of the 
 Domine's catalogue. Having concluded, the Domine gave me a 
 Latin Testament, the Whole Duty of Man , and hjs blessing. The 
 matron added to them a large slice of seed cake ; and by the time 
 that I had returned to Mr. Drummond's , both the Domine's pre- 
 cepts and the matron's considerate addition had been well di- 
 gested. 
 
 It was at six o'clock the next morning that we cast off our fasten- 
 ings and pulled into the stream. The day was lovely , the sun had 
 risen above the trees , which feathered their boughs down on the 
 sloping lawns in front of the many beautiful retreats of the nobility 
 and gentry , which border the river ; and the lamp of day poured a 
 flood of light upon the smooth and rapidly ebbing river. The heavy 
 dew which had fallen during the night studded the sides of the 
 
49 
 
 barge , and glittered like necklaces of diamonds; the mist and the 
 fog had ascended , except here and there , where it partially con- 
 cealed the landscape ; boats laden with the produce of the market- 
 gardens in the vicinity were hastening down with the tide to supply 
 the metropolis ; the watermen were in their wherries, cleaning and 
 mopping them out, ready for their fares; the smoke of the chim- 
 neys ascended in a straight line to heaven ; and the distant chirp- 
 ing of the birds in the trees added to the hilarity and lightness of 
 heart with which I now commenced my career as an apprentice. 
 
 I was forward , looking down the river , when Marables called 
 me to take the helm, while they went to breakfast. He commenced 
 giving me instructions; but I cut them short by proving to him 
 that I knew the river as well as he did. Pleased at the information, 
 he joined Fleming, who was preparing the breakfast in the cabin, 
 and I was left on the deck by myself. There, as we glided by every 
 object which for years I had not seen , but which was immediately 
 recognised, and welcomed as an old friend, with what rapidity did 
 former scenes connected with them flash into my memory ! There 
 was the inn at the waterside, where my father used to replenish the 
 stone bottle; it was just where the barge now was, that I had 
 hooked and pulled up the largest chub I had ever caught. Now I 
 arrived at the spot where we had run foul of another craft ; and my 
 father, with his pipe in his mouth, and his '*Take it coolly," 
 which so exasperated the other parties, stood as alive before mc. 
 Here — yes , it was here — exactly here — where we anchored on 
 that fatal night , when I was left an orphan — it was here that my 
 father disappeared ; and , as I looked down at the water , I almost 
 thought I could perceive it again close over him , as it eddied by ; 
 and it was here that the black smoke — The whole scene came 
 fresh to my memory*, my eyes filled with tears , and , for a little 
 while , I could not see to steer. But I soon recovered myself ; the 
 freshness of the air, the bright sky overhead , the busy scene be- 
 fore me, and the necessity of attending to my duty, chased away 
 my painful remembrances ; and when I had passed the spot, I was 
 again cheerful and content. 
 
 In half an hour I had shot Putney Bridge , and was sweeping 
 clear of the shallows on the reach below, when Marables and Flem- 
 
 Jaiob Faithful. 4 
 
50 
 
 ing came up. "How!" exclaimed Marables ; have we passed 
 the bridge? Why did you not call us?" 
 
 I have shot it without help many and many a time," replied I, 
 ** when I was but ten years old. Why should I call you from your 
 breakfast? But the tides are high now, and the stream rapid; 
 you had better get a sweep out on the bow, or we may tail on the 
 bank." 
 
 **Well!" replied Fleming, with astonishment; had no 
 idea that he would have been any help to us ; but so much the 
 better." He then spoke in a low tone to Marables. 
 
 Marables shook his head. Don't try it, Fleming; it will 
 never do." 
 
 '^So you said once about yourself," replied Fleming, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 I did — I did ! " replied Marables, clenching both his hands, 
 which at the time were crossed on his breast, with a look of pain- 
 ful emotion ; ' ' but I say again , don't try it ; nay, I say more, you 
 shall not." 
 
 '* Shall not," replied Fleming, haughtily. 
 
 "Yes," replied Marables , coolly; ** I say shall not, and I '11 
 stand by my words. Now, Jacob, give me the helm, and get 
 your breakfast." 
 
 I gave up the helm to Marables , and was about to enter the 
 cabin, when Fleming caught me by the arm, and slewed me 
 round. *'Isay, my joker, we may just as well begin as we leave 
 off. Understand me, that into that cabin you never enter; and 
 understand further, that if ever I find you in that cabin by day or 
 night, I '11 break every bone in your body. Your berth is forward ; 
 and as for your meals , you may either take them down there , or 
 you may .eat them on deck." * 
 
 From what I had already witnessed, I knew that, for som? 
 reason or another, Fleming had the control over Marables ; never- 
 theless I replied, '*If Mr. Marables says it is to be so, well and 
 good ; but he has charge of this barge." Marables made no reply ; 
 he coloured up , seemed very much annoyed , and then looked up 
 at the sky. 
 
 You'll find," continued Fleming, addressing me in a low 
 
51 
 
 voice , "that I command here — so be wise. Perhaps the day may 
 come when you may walk in and out of the cabin as you please, 
 but that depends upon yourself. By and by , when we know more 
 of each other — " 
 
 "Never, Fleming, never!" interrupted Marables, in a firm 
 and loud tone. "It shall not be." 
 
 Fleming muttered what I could not hear , and, going into the 
 cabin, brought me out my breakfast, which I despatched with 
 good appetite ; and soon aftenvards I offered to take the helm ; 
 which offer was accepted by MarabJcs , who retired to the cabin 
 with Fleming, where I heard them converse for a long while in a 
 low tone. 
 
 The tide was about three quarters ebb , when the barge arrived 
 abreast of Millbank. Marables came on deck, and taking the 
 helm , desired me to go forward and see the anchor clear for let- 
 ting go. 
 
 "Anchor clear!" said I, "why, we have a good hour more 
 before we meet the flood." 
 
 "I know that , Jacob , as well as you do ; but we shall not go 
 farther to - night. Be smart , and see all clear." 
 
 I went forward , and when the anchor and cable were ready, 
 we let it go, and swung to the stream. I thought, at the time, 
 that this was not making the best of our way , as in duty bound to 
 our master; but as I was not aware of what Marables* orders might 
 be , I held my tongue. Whether Fleming thought that it was ne- 
 cessary to blind me , or whether it was true that they were only 
 obeying their orders, he said to Marables in my hearing, "Will 
 you go on shore and give the letters to Mr. Drummond's corre- 
 spondent, or shall I go for you?" 
 
 "You had better go," replied Marables, carelessly; and shortly 
 after they went to dinner in the cabin , Fleming bringing me mine 
 out on deck. 
 
 The flood tide now made , and we rode to the stream. Having 
 nothing to do, and Marables as well as Fleming appearing to avoid 
 me, I brought the Domine's Latin Testament , and amused myself 
 with reading it. About a quarter of an hour before dusk, Fleming 
 made his appearance to go on shore. He was genteelly, I may 
 
 4* 
 
52 
 
 say fashionably , dressed in a suit of black , with a white neckloth. 
 At first I did not recognise him , so surprised was I at his altera- 
 tion ; and my thoughts , as soon as my suspense was over , natu^ 
 rally turned upon the singularity of a man who worked ia a 
 barge under another, now assuming the dress and appearance 
 of a gentleman. Marables hauled up the little skiff which lay 
 astern. Fleming jumped in and shoved off. I watched him till 
 I perceived him land at the stairs, and then turned round to 
 Marables : I can*t understand all this observed I. 
 
 **I don't suppose you can," replied Marables ; **but| still I 
 could explain it, if you will promise me faithfully not to say a word 
 about it." 
 
 "I will make that promise, if you satisfy me that all is right," 
 answered I. 
 
 ''As to all being right, Jacob, that's as may be ; but if I prove 
 to you that there is no harm done to our master, I suppose you 
 will keep the secret. However, I must not allow you to think 
 worse of it than it really is; no, I'll trust to your goodnature. 
 You wouldn't harm me, Jacob?" Marables then told me that 
 Fleming had once been well to do in the world , and during the 
 long illness and subsequent death of Marables' wife , had lent him 
 money ; that Fleming had been very imprudent , and had run up a 
 great many debts, and that the bailiffs were after him. On this 
 emergency he had applied to Marables to help him , and that, in 
 consequence , he had received him on board of the barge , where 
 they never would think of looking for him; that Fleming had 
 friends , and contrived to go on shore at night to see them , and 
 get what assistance he could from them in money : in the mean 
 time , his relations were trying what they could do to arrange with 
 his creditors. ''Now," said Marables, after this narration , "how 
 could I help assisting one who has been so kind to me? And what 
 harm does it do Mr. Drummond? If Fleming can't do his work , or 
 won't, when we unload, he pays another man himself; so Mr. 
 Drummond is not hurt by it." 
 
 "That may be all true," replied I; "but I cannot imagine 
 why I am not to enter the cabin, and why he orders about here 
 as master." 
 
53 
 
 "Why, you see, Jacob, I owe him money, and he allows 
 me so much per week for the cabin , by which means I shall pay it 
 off. Do you understand now ? " 
 
 ** Yes , I understand what you have said replied I. 
 
 **Well, then, Jacob, I hope you '11 say nothing about it. 
 Itwouldonly harm me, and do no good." 
 
 *'That depends upon Fleming's behaviour towards me," 
 replied I. * * I will not be bullied and made uncomfortable by him, 
 depend upon it; he has no business on board the barge , that's 
 clear, and I am bound 'prentice to her. I don't wish to hurt you ; 
 and as I suppose Fleming won't be long on board , I shall say 
 nothing, unless he treats me ill.*' 
 
 Marables then left me, and I reflected upon what he had 
 said. It appeared all very probable ; but still I was not satisfied. 
 I resolved to watch narrowly , and if any thing occurred which ex- 
 cited more suspicions, to inform Mr. Drummond upon our return. 
 Shortly afterwards Marables came out again , and told me I might 
 go to bed, and he would keep the deck till Fleming's return. I 
 assented, and went down to the cuddy; but I did not much like 
 this permission. It appeared to me as if he wanted to get rid of 
 me, and I laid awake, turning over in my mind all that I had 
 heard and seen. About two o'clock in the morning I heard the 
 sound of oars, and the skiff strike the side of the barge. I did 
 not go up , but I put my head up the scuttle to see what was going 
 on. It was broad moonlight, and almost as clear as day. Flem- 
 ing threw up the painter of the skiff to Marables , and , as he held 
 it , lifted out of the boat a blue bag, apparently well filled. The 
 contents jingled as it was landed on the deck. He then put out a 
 yellow silk handkerchief full of something else , and having gained 
 the deck , Marables walked aft with the painter in his hand until 
 the skiff had dropped astern , where he made it fast , and returned 
 to Fleming, who stood close to the blue bag. I heard Fleming ask 
 Marables , in a low voice , if I were in bed , and an answer given 
 in the affirmative. I dropped my head immediately that I might 
 not be discovered , and turned into my bed -place. I was restless 
 for a long while; thought upon thought, surmise upon surmise, 
 conjecture upon conjecture , and doubt upon doubt , occupied my 
 
54 
 
 / 
 
 brain , until at last I went fast asleep — so fast , that I did not 
 wake until summoned by Fleming. * I rose , and when I came on 
 deck, found that the anchor had been weighed more than two 
 hours, and that we were past all the bridges. **Why, Jacob, 
 my man , you've had a famous nap said Fleming, with apparent 
 good humour; **nowgoaft, and get your breakfast , it has been 
 waiting for you this half-hour." By the manner of Fleming , I 
 took it for granted that Marables had acquainted him with our con- 
 versation , and indeed , from that time , during our whole trip, 
 Fleming treated me with kindness and familiarity. The veto had 
 not , however , been taken off the cabin , which I never attempted 
 to enter. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The mystery becomes more and more interesting, and I determine to 
 find it out. — Prying after things locked up , 1 am locked up myself. — 
 Fleming proves to me that his advice "was good when he recommended 
 me to learn to swim. 
 
 0\ our arrival off the Medway, I had just gone down to bed, 
 and was undressing, when I heard Fleming come on deck and 
 haul up the boat. I looked up the hatchway ; it was very dark, 
 but I could perceive Marables hand him the bag and handkerchief, 
 with which he pulled on shore. He did not return until the next 
 morning at daylight, when I met him as he came up the side. 
 *'Well, Jacob," said he, you've caught me. I've been on 
 shore to see my sweetheart ; but you boys ought to know nothing 
 about these things. Make the boat fast , there's a good lad." 
 
 When we were one night discharging our cargo , which was for 
 government , I heard voices alongside. From habit , the least noise 
 now awoke me : a boat striking the side was certain so to do. It 
 was then about twelve o'clock. I looked up the hatchway, per- 
 ceived two men come on board and enter the cabin with packages. 
 They remained there about ten minutes , and then , escorted to the 
 side by Fleming , left the barge. When the barge was cleared , we 
 hauled off to return , and in three days were again alongside of Mr. 
 Drummond's wharf. The kindness both of Marables and of Flem- 
 ing had been very great. They lived in a style very superior to 
 
55 
 
 what they could be expected to do , and I fared well in conse- 
 quence. 
 
 On our arrival at the wharf, Marables came up to me, and said, 
 **!\ow, Jacob , as I have honestly told you the secret, I hope you 
 won't ruin me by saying a word to Mr. Drummond." I had before 
 made up my mind to say nothing to my master until my suspicions 
 were confirmed , and I therefore gave my promise ; but I had also 
 resolved to impart my suspicions , as well as what I had seen , to 
 the old Domine. On the third day after our arrival I w alked out to 
 the school, and acquainted him with all that had passed, and asked 
 him for his advice. 
 
 ** Jacob," said he, ''thou hast done well, but thoumightest 
 have done better; hadst thou not given thy promise, which is 
 sacred, I would have taken thee to Mr. Drummond, that thou 
 mightest impart the whole , instanter. I like it not. Evil deeds are 
 done in darkness. Noctem peccatis et fraudibus objice 
 nub em. Still, as thou sayest, nought is yet proved. Watch, 
 therefore, Jacob — watch carefully over thy master's interests, and 
 the interests of society at large. It is thy duty, I may say, Vigi- 
 lare noctesque dicsque. It may be as Marables hath said — 
 and all may be accounted for; still, I say, be careful, and be 
 honest." 
 
 I followed the suggestions of the Domine : we were soon laden 
 with another cargo of bricks , to be delivered at the same place, and 
 proceeded on our voyage. Marables and Fleming, finding that I 
 had not said a word to Mr. Drummond , treated me with every 
 kindness. Fleming once offered me money, which I refused, say- 
 ing that I had no use for it. I was on the best terms with them , at 
 the same time that I took notice of all that passed, without offering 
 a remark to excite their suspicions. But not to be too prolix, it 
 will suffice to say, that we made many trips during several months, 
 and that during that time I made the following observations : — 
 that Fleming w ent on shore at night at certain places , taking w ith 
 him bags and bundles ; that he generally returned with others, 
 which were taken into the cabin; that sometimes people came off 
 at night, and remained some time in the cabin with him ; and that 
 all this took place when it was supposed that I was asleep. The 
 
56 
 
 cabin was invariably locked when the barge was lying at the 
 wharfs , if Fleming was on shore , and at no time was I permitted 
 to enter it. Marables was a complete cipher in Fleming's hands, 
 who ordered every thing ^s he pleased ; and , in the conversations 
 which took place before me , with much less restraint than at first, 
 there appeared to be no idea of Fleming's leaving us. As I felt 
 convinced that there was no chance of discovery without further 
 efforts on my part, and my suspicions increasing daily, I resolved 
 upon running some hazard. My chief wish was to get into the 
 cabin and examine its contents ; but this was not easy, and would, 
 in all probability , be a dangerous attempt. One night I came on 
 deck in my shirt. We were at anchor off Rotherhithe : it was a 
 dark night, with a drizzling rain. I was hastening below , when I 
 perceived a light still burning in the cabin , and heard the voices 
 of Marables and Fleming. I thought this a good opportunity , and 
 having no shoes , walked softly on the wet deck to the cabin-door, 
 which opened forward, and peeped through the crevices. Marables 
 and Fleming were sitting opposite each other, at the little table. 
 There were some papers before them, and they were dividing some 
 money. Marables expostulated at his share not being sufficient, 
 and Fleming laughed and told him he had earned no more. Fear- 
 ful of being discovered, I made a silent retreat, and gained my 
 bed. It was well that I had made the resolution ; for just as I was 
 putting my head below the hatch , and drawing it over the scuttle, 
 the door was thrown open , and Fleming came out. I pondered 
 over this circumstance , and the remark of Fleming, that Marables 
 had not earned any more , and I felt convinced that the story told 
 me by Marables relative to Fleming was ali false. This conviction 
 stimulated me more than ever to discover the secret, and many and 
 many a night did I watch , with a hope of being able to examine the 
 cabin ; but it was to no purpose , either Fleming or Marables was 
 always on board. I continued to report to the Doraine ail I had 
 discovered , and he agreed at last , that it was better that I should 
 not say any thing to Mr. Drummond until there was the fullest 
 proof of the nature of their proceedings. 
 
 The cabin was now the sole object of my thoughts, and many 
 were the schemes resolved in mymind to obtain an entrance. Fatima 
 
57 
 
 never coveted admission to the dreadful chamber of Bluebeard , as 
 I did to ascertain the secrets of this hidden receptacle. One night 
 Fleming had quitted the barge , and I ascended from my dormi- 
 tory. Marables was on deck , sitting upon the water cask , with his 
 elbow resting on the gunwale , his hand supporting his head , as if 
 in deep thought. The cabin doors were closed , but the h'ght still 
 remained in it. I watched for some time , and perceiving that Ma- 
 rables did not move, walked gently up to him. He was fast asleep ; 
 I waited for some little time alongside of him. At last he snored. 
 It was an opportunity not to be lost. I crept to the cabin door; it 
 was not locked. Although I did not fear the wrath of Marables , in 
 case of discovery, as I did that of Fleming, it was still with a beat- 
 ing heart and a tremulous hand that I gently opened the door, 
 pausing before I entered, to ascertain if Marables were disturbed. 
 He moved not , and I entered , closing the door after me. I caught 
 up the light , and held it in my hand , as I hung over the table. On 
 each side were the two bed places of Marables and Fleming, which 
 I had before then had many a partial glimpse of. In front of the 
 bed places were two lockers, to sit down upon. I tried them — 
 they were not fast — they contained their clothes. At the after part 
 of the cabin were three cupboards; I opened the centre one, it 
 contained crockery, glass, and knives and forks. I tried the ono 
 on the starboard sfde; it was locked, but the key was in it. 
 I turned it gently, but being a good lock, it snapped loud. 
 I paused in fear — but Marables still slept. The cupboard had 
 three shelves, and every shelf was loaded with silver spoons , forks, 
 and every variety of plate , mixed with watches , bracelets , and or- 
 naments of every description. There was, I perceived, a label on 
 each , with a peculiar mark. Wishing to have an accurate survey, 
 and encouraged by my discovery, I turned to the cupboard opposite, 
 on the larboard side , and I opened it. It contained silk handker- 
 chiefs in every variety, lace veils, and various other articles of 
 value; on the lower shelf were laid three pairs of pistols. I was 
 now satisfied , and closing the last cupboard , which had not been 
 locked , was about to retreat, when I recollected that I had not re- 
 locked the first cupboard , and, that they might not, by finding it 
 open , suspect my visit , I turned the key. It made a louder snap 
 
58 
 
 than before. I heard Marables start from his slumber on deck ; in 
 a moment I blew out the lamp , and remained quiet. Marables got 
 up , took a turn or two, looked at the cabin doors, which were shut, 
 and opened them a little. Perceiving that the lamp had, as he 
 thought, gone out he shut them again, and to my consternation, 
 turned the key. There I was, locked up , until the arrival of Flem- 
 ing — then to be left to his mercy. I hardly knew how to act : at 
 last I resolved upon calling to Marables, as I dreaded his anger less 
 than Fleming's. Then it occurred to me, that Marables might come 
 in , feel for the lamp to re-light it , and , that as he came in on one 
 side of the cabin , I might, in the dark , escape by the other, this 
 all but forlorn hope prevented me for some time from applying to 
 him. At last I made up my mind that I would , and ran from the 
 locker to call through the door , when I heard the sound of oars. 
 I paused again — loitered — the boat was alongside , and I heard 
 Fleming jump upon the deck. 
 
 ** Quick said he to Marables , as he came to the cabin door, 
 and tried to open it; "we *ve no time to lose — we must get up 
 tlie sacks , and sink every thing. Two of them have 'peached, and 
 the fence will be discovered." 
 
 He took the key from Marables , and opened the door ; I had 
 replaced the lamp upon the table. Fleming entered, took a seat 
 on the locker on the larboard side, and felt for the lamp. Marables 
 followed him, and sat down on the starboard locker; — escape 
 was impossible. With a throbbing heart I sat in silence, watching 
 my fate. In the mean time Fleming had taken out of his pocket 
 his phosphorus match box. I heard the tin top pulled open — 
 even the slight rustling of the one match selected was perceived. 
 Another second it was withdrawn from the bottle, and a wild flame 
 of light illumined the deck cabin , and discovered me to their view. 
 Staggered at my appearance , the match fell from Fleming's hand, 
 and all was dark as before ; but there was no more to be gained by 
 darkness — I had b^en discovered. 
 
 * * Jacob ! " cried Marables . 
 
 **Will not live to tell the tale," added Fleming, with a fi*m 
 voice, as he put another match into the bottle, and then re-lighted 
 
59 
 
 the lamp. **Corae/* said Fleming, fiercely; **out of the cabio 
 immediately." 
 
 I prepared to obey him. Fleming went out , and I was follow- 
 ing him round his side of the table , when Marables interposed. 
 **Stop: Fleming, what is that you mean to do?" 
 Silence him ! " retorted Fleming. 
 
 But not murder him, surely?" cried Marables , trembling 
 from head to foot. You will not , dare not , do that." 
 
 What is it that I dare not do , Marables? but it is useless to 
 talk; it is now his life or mine. One must be sacrificed, and I 
 will not die yet to please him." 
 
 '*You shall not — by God, Fleming, you shall not!" cried 
 Marables , seizing hold of my other arm , and holding me tight. 
 
 I added my resistance to that of Marables ; when Fleming, 
 perceiving that we should be masters, took a pistol from his 
 pocket, and struck Marables a blow on the head , which rendered 
 him senseless. Throwing away the pistol , he dragged me out of 
 the cabin. I was strong , but he was very powerful ; my resistance 
 availed me nothing : by degrees he forced me to the side of the 
 barge, and, lifting me up in his arms, dashed me into the dark 
 and rapidly flowing water. It was fortunate for me that the threat 
 of Fleming, upon our first meeting, had induced me to practise 
 swimming, and still more fortunate that I was not encumbered 
 with any other clothes than my shirt, in which I had come on deck. 
 As it was , I was carried away by the tide for some time before 1 
 could rise, and at such a distance that Fleming, who probably 
 watched , did not perceive that I came up again. Still, I had but 
 little hopes of saving myself in a dark night, and at nearly a quarter 
 of a mile from shore. I struggled to keep myself afloat, when I 
 heard the sound of oars ; a second or two more , and I saw them 
 over my head. I grasped at and seized the last, as the others 
 passed me, crying *'Help!" 
 
 **What the devil! Oars, my men; here's somebody over- 
 board," cried the man, whose oar I had seized. 
 
 They stopped pulling; he dragged in his oar till he could lay 
 hold of me, and then they hauled me into the boat. I was ex- 
 hausted with cold and my energetic struggles in the water ; and it 
 
60 
 
 was not until they had wrapped me up in a great coat, and poured 
 some spirits down my throat, that I could speak. They inquired 
 to which of the craft I belonged. 
 **The Polly barge." 
 
 **The very one we are searching for. Where about is she, 
 my lad?" 
 
 I directed them ; the boat was a large wherry, pulling six oars, 
 belonging to the River Police. The officer in the stern sheets, who 
 steered her , then said , * * How came you overboard? " 
 
 **I was thrown overboard," replied I, **by a man called 
 Fleming." 
 
 "The name he goes by," cried the officer. **Give way, my 
 lads. There's murder, it appears, as well as other charges." 
 
 In a quarter of an hour we were alongside ; the officer and four 
 men sprang out of the boat, leaving the other two , with directions 
 for me to remain in the boat. Cold and miserable as I was , I was 
 too much interested in the scene not to rise up from the stem 
 sheets, and pay attention to what passed. When the officer and 
 his men gained the deck, they were met by Fleming in the advance, 
 and Marables about a yard or two behind, 
 
 ** What's all this?" cried Fleming, boldly. *'Are you river 
 pirates , come to plunder us ? " 
 
 '*Not exactly," replied the officer; "but we are just come to 
 overhaul you. Deliver up the key of your cabin," continued he» 
 after trying the door, and finding it locked. 
 
 "With all my heart, if you prove yourselves authorised to 
 search," replied Fleming; "but you '11 find no smuggled spirits 
 here, I can tell you. Marables, hand them the key; I see that 
 they belong to the river guard." 
 
 Marables, who had never spoken, handed the key to the officer, 
 who , opening a dark lanthorn , went down into the cabin and pro- 
 ceeded in his search, leaving two of the men to take charge of 
 Fleming and Marables. But his search was in vain ; he could find 
 nothing , and he came out on the deck. 
 
 "Well," said Fleming, sarcastically, "have you made a 
 seizure?" 
 
61 
 
 **Wait a little," said the officer; **how many men have you 
 in tiiis barge?" 
 
 You see them," replied Fleming. 
 
 "Yes; but you have a boy: where is he?" 
 
 **We have no boy," replied Fleming ; ''two men are quite 
 enough for this craft." ^ 
 
 *' Still I ask you, what has become of the boy? for a boy was 
 on your decks this afternoon." 
 
 ** If there was one , I presume he has gone on shore again." 
 
 ** Answer me another question : which of you threw him over- 
 board?" 
 
 At this query of the officer, Fleming started, while Marables 
 cried out, *'It was not I; I would have saved him. O that the 
 boy were here to prove it ! " 
 
 *'Iamhere, Marables," saidi, coming on the deck, "and 
 I am witness that you tried to save me , until you were struck 
 senseless by that ruffian Fleming, who threw me overboard, that 
 I might not give evidence as to the silver and gold which I found in 
 the cabin ; and which I overheard him tell you must be put into 
 sacks and sunk, as two of the men had 'peached." 
 
 Fleming, when he saw me, turned round, as if not to look 
 at me. His face I could not see ; but after remaining a few seconds 
 in that position , he held out his hands in silence for the handcuffs, 
 which the officer had already taken out of his pocket. Marables, 
 on the contrary, sprang forward as soon as I had finished speaking, 
 and caught me in his arms. 
 
 "My line, honest boy! I thank God — I thank God! All that 
 he has said is true. Sir. You will find the goods sunk astern, 
 and the buoy-rope to them fastened to the lower pintle of the 
 rudder. Jacob , thank God , you are safe : I little thought to see 
 you again. There, Sir," continued he to the officer , holding out 
 his hands, "I deserve it all. I had not strength of mind enough 
 to be honest." 
 
 The handcuffs were put on Marables as well as on Fleming, 
 and the officer, allowing me time to go down and put on my clothes, 
 hauled up the sacks containing the valuables, and leaving two 
 hands in charge of the barge , rowed ashore with us all in the boat. 
 
62 
 
 It was then about three o'clock in the morning, and I was very 
 glad when we arrived at the receiving house, and I was permitted 
 to warm myself before the fire. As soon as I was comfortable , I 
 laid down on a bench and fell fast asleep. 
 
 , CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 More of the nps and downs of life. — Up before the magistrates , then 
 down the river again in the lighter. — The Toms. — A light heart upon 
 two sticks. — Receive my first lessons in singing. — Our lighter well 
 manned with two boys and a fraction. 
 
 I DID not awake the next morning till roused by the police, 
 who brought us up before the magistrates. The crowd that fol- 
 lowed, appeared to make no distinction between the prisoners 
 and the witness , and remarks not very complimentary, and to me 
 very annoying, were liberally made. **He 's a young hand for 
 such work cried one. There 's gallows marked in his face," 
 observed another, to whom , when I turned round to look at him, 
 I certainly could have returned the compliment. The station was 
 not far from the magistrates' office, and we soon arrived. The 
 principal officer went into the inner room, and communicated 
 with the magistrates before they came out and took their seats on 
 the bench. 
 
 Where is Jacob Faithful? My lad, do you know the nature of 
 
 an oath?" 
 
 I answered in the affirmative ; the oath was adminisleied, and 
 my evidence taken down. It was then read over to the prisoners, 
 who were asked if they had any thing to say in their defence. Flem- 
 ing, who had sent for his lawyer, was advised to make no answer. 
 Marables quietly replied , that all the boy had said was quite true. 
 
 **RecoUect," said the magistrate, **we cannot accept you as 
 king's evidence ; that of the boy is considered sufficient." 
 
 **I did not intend that you should," replied Marables; only 
 want to ease my conscience , not to try for my pardon." 
 
 They were then committed for trial , and led away to prison. I 
 could not help going up to Marables and shaking his hand , before 
 he was led away. He lifted up his two arms, for he was still hand- 
 
63 
 
 cuffed, and wiped his eyes , saying, "Let it be a warning to you, 
 Jacob — not that I think you need it ; but still I once was honest as 
 yourself — and look at me now." And he cast his eyes down sor- 
 rowfully upon his fettered wrists. They quitted the room , Flem- 
 ing giving me a look which was very significant of what my chance 
 would be , if e ver I fell into his clutches. 
 
 **We must detain you, my lad," observed one of the ma- 
 gistrates , without you can procure a sufficient bail for your ap- 
 pearance as witness on the trial." 
 
 I replied , that I knew of no one, except my master Mr. Drum- 
 mond, and my schoolmaster; and had no means of letting them 
 know of my situation. 
 
 The magistrate then directed the officer to go down by the first 
 Brentford coach , acquaint Mr. Drummond with what had passed, 
 and that the lighterwould remain in charge of the river police, until 
 he could send hands on board of her; and I was allowed to sit 
 down on a bench behind the bar. It was not until past noon that 
 Mr. Drummond, accompanied by the Domine , made his appear- 
 ance. To save time , the magistrates gave them my deposition to 
 read; they put in bail, and I was permitted to leave the court. We 
 went down by the coach , but , as they went inside and I was out, 
 I had not many questions asked until my arrival at Mr. Drum- 
 mond's house , when I gave them a detailed account of all that had 
 happened. 
 
 *' Proh ! Deus ! " exclaimed the Domine , when I had finished 
 my story. ** What an escape ! How narrowly, as Propertius hath 
 it femininely, *Eripitur nobis jampridem carus puer.' 
 Well was it, that thou hadst learnt to swim — verily thou must 
 have struggled lustily. *Pugnat in adversas ire natator 
 aquas,* yea, lustily for thy life, child. Now, God be praised ! " 
 
 But Mr. Drummond was anxious that the lighter should be 
 brought back to the wharf; he therefore gave me my dinner, for I 
 had eaten nothing that day, and then despatched me in a boat with 
 two men , to bring her up the river. The next morning we ar- 
 rived ; and Mr. Drummond, not having yet selected any other per- 
 son to take her in charge, I was again some days on shore, dividing 
 my time between the Domine and Mr. Drummond's , where I was 
 
64 
 
 always kindly treated , not only by him , but also by his wife , and 
 his little daughter Sarah. 
 
 A master for the lighter was soon found ; and as I passed a con- 
 siderable time under his orders , I must describe him particularly. 
 He had served the best part of his life on board a man-of-war , had 
 been in many general and single actions, and, at the battle of 
 Trafalgar, had wound up his servitude with the loss of both his 
 legs, and an out-pension from Greenwich Hospital, which he pre- 
 ferred, to being received upon the establishment, as he had a wife 
 and child ; since that time he had worlied on the river. He was 
 very active, and broad-shouldered , and had probably , before he 
 lost his legs, been a man of at least five feet eleven or six feet high; 
 but , as he found that he could keep his balance better upon short 
 stumps than long ones, he had reduced his wooden legs to about 
 eight inches in length, which, with his square body, gave him the 
 appearance of a huge dwarf. He bore, arid I will say most de- 
 servedly, an excellent character. His temper was always cheerful, 
 and he was a little inclined to drink ; but the principal feature in 
 him was lightness of heart ; he was always singing. His voice was 
 very fine and powerful. When in the service , he used to be sum- 
 moned to sing to the captain and officers , and was; the delight of 
 the forecastle. His memory was retentive , and his stock of songs 
 incredible ; at the same time , he seldom or ever sang more than 
 one or two stanzas of a song in the way of quotation , or if apt to 
 what was going on , often altering the words to suit the occasion. 
 He was accompanied by his son Tom , a lad of my own age , as 
 merry as his father , and who had a good treble voice and a great 
 deal of humour : he would often take the song up from his father, 
 with words of his own putting in, with ready wit and good tune. 
 We three composed the crew of the lighter ; and , as there had al- 
 ready been considerable loss from demurrage , were embarked as 
 soon as they arrived. The name of the father was Tom Beazeley, 
 but he was always known on the river as ** old Tom or, as some 
 more learned wag had christened him, the Merman on two 
 sticks." As soon as we had put our traps on board, as old Tom 
 called them, he received his orders, and we cast off from the wharf. 
 The wind was favourable. Young Tom was as active as a monkey, 
 
65 
 
 and as full of tricks. His father took the helm, while we two, as- 
 sisted by a dog of the small Newfoundland breed, which Tom had 
 taught to take a rope in his teeth, and be of no small service to two 
 boys in bowsing on a tackle, made sail upon the lighter, and 
 away we went , while old Tom's strain might be heard from eitner 
 shore. 
 
 "Loose, loose every sail to the breeze, 
 The course of the vessel improve. 
 I 've done with the toil of the seas; 
 Ye sailors, 1 'm bound to my love. 
 
 *' Tom, you beggar, is the bundle ready for your mother? We 
 must drop the skiff, Jacob, at Battersea Reach , and send the 
 clothes on shore for the old woman to wash, or there *11 be no clean 
 shirts for Sunday. Shove in your shirts , Jacob , the old woman 
 won't mind that. She used to wash for the mess. Clap on , both 
 of you , and get another pull at those haulyards. That '11 do , my 
 bantams. 
 
 "Hoist, hoist, every sail to the breeze, 
 
 Come, shipmates, and join in the song, 
 Let *s drink while the barge cuts the seas, 
 To the gale that may drive her along. 
 
 **Tom, where 's my pot of tea? Come, my boy, we must pipe 
 to breakfast. Jacob, there 's a rope towing overboard. Now, 
 Tom. hand me my tea, and I '11 steer with one hand, drink with 
 the other, and as for the legs, the less we say about them the 
 better. 
 
 "No glory I covet, no riches I "want, 
 Ambition is nothing to me. 
 But one thing 1 beg of kind Heaven to grant — " 
 
 Here Tom's treble chimed in , handing him the pot, 
 "For breakfast a good cup of tea.'* 
 
 ** Silence, you sea-cook! how dare you shove in your penny 
 whistle? How's tide, Tom?" 
 
 Three quarters ebb." 
 *'No, ita'n't, fou thief ; how is it, Jacob?" 
 ^^A-bouthalf, I think." 
 
 And you 're right." 
 
 What water have we down here on the side?" 
 
 Jacob Faithful. 5 
 
66 
 
 You must give the point a wide berth," replied I, **the shoal 
 runs out." 
 
 **Thanky, boy, so I thought, but wasn't sure : " and then old 
 Tom burst out in a beautiful air. 
 
 "Trust not too much your own opinion, 
 When your vessel's under weigh, 
 Let good advice still hear dominion, 
 That 's a compass will not stray.'* 
 
 *'01d Tom, is that you?" hallooed a man from another 
 barge. 
 
 **Yes; what 's left of me, my hearty." 
 ''You'll not fetch the bridges this tide — there's a strong breeze 
 right up the reaches below." 
 
 " Never mind , we '11 do all we can. 
 
 "If unassail'd hy squall or shower, 
 Wafted by the gentle gales, " 
 Let 's not lose the favouring hour, 
 While success attends our sails.** 
 
 "Bravo, old Tom ! why don't the boys get the lines out, for all 
 the fishes are listening to you ," cried the man, as the barges were 
 parted by the wind and tide. 
 
 **I did once belong to a small craft, called the Arion," ob- 
 served old Tom, '*and they say as how the story was, that that 
 chap could make the fish follow him just when he pleased. I know 
 that when we were in the North Sea , the shoaKof seals would fol- 
 low the ship if you whistled ; but those brutes have ears — now fish 
 hav'n't got none. 
 
 " Oh well do I remember that cold dreary land. 
 Where the northern light, 
 In the winter's night, 
 Shone bright on its snowy strand. > 
 
 ''Jacob, have you finished your breakfast? Here, take the helm, 
 while I and Tom put the craft a little into apple-pie order." 
 
 Old Tom then stumped forward , followed by his son and the 
 Newfoundland dog, who appeared to consid^ himself as one of 
 the most useful personages on board. After coinng down the ropes, 
 and sweeping the decks , they went into the cabin to make their 
 little arrangements. 
 
67 
 
 **A good lock that, Tom," cried the father, turning the key 
 of the cupboard. (I recollected it, and that its snapping so loud 
 was the occasion of my being tossed overboard.) Old Tom con- 
 tinued: *'Isay, Tom, you won't be able to open that cupboard, 
 so I '11 put the sugar and the grog into it, you scamp^ It goes too 
 fast, when you 're purser's steward. — 
 
 "For grog is onr larboard and starboard, 
 Onr main-mast, ourniizen, our log. 
 Onshore, or at sea, or when liarbour'd, 
 The mariner's compass is grog." 
 
 *'But it ar'n't a compass to steer steady by, father," replied 
 Tom. 
 
 '* Then don't you have nothing to do with it , Tom." 
 
 only takes a little, father, because you mayn't take too 
 
 much." 
 
 '*Thanky for nothing; when do I ever take too much, you 
 
 scamp?" 
 
 " Not too much for a man standing on his own pins, but too 
 much for a man on two broomsticks." 
 
 "Stop your jaw , Mr. Tom , or I '11 unscrew one of the broom- 
 sticlis , and lay it over shoulders." 
 
 "Before it 's out of the socket, I '11 give you leg-bail. What 
 will you do then , father?" 
 
 " Catch you when I can , Tom , as the spider takes the fly." 
 
 "What 's the good o* that, when you can't bear malice for ten 
 minutes?" 
 
 "Very true, Tom; then thank your stars that you have two 
 good legs , and that your poor father has none." 
 
 " I very often do thank my stars, and that 's the truth of it; but 
 what 's the use of being angry about a drop of rum , or a handful of 
 sugar?" 
 
 "because you takes more than your allewance." 
 "Well, do you take less , then all will be right." 
 "And why should I take less , pray?" 
 
 "Because you 're only half a man ; you haven't any legs to pro- 
 vide for, as I have." 
 
 5* 
 
68 
 
 **Now I tell you, Tom, that 's the very reason why I should have 
 more , to comfort my old body for the loss of them." 
 
 " When you lost your legs you lost your ballast , father , and , 
 therefore, you mus'n't carry too much sail, or you '11 topple over- 
 board some dark night. If I drink the grog, it 's all for your good, 
 you see." 
 
 *^ You *re a dutiful son in that way, at all events ; and a sweet 
 child, as far as sugar goes ; but Jacob is to sleep in the cabin with 
 me , and you *11 shake your blanket forward." 
 
 **Now that I consider quite unnatural; why part father and 
 son?" 
 
 **It 's not that exactly, its only parting son and the grog 
 bottle." 
 
 * * That's just as cruel ; why part two such good friends ? " 
 'Cause , Tom , he 's too strong for you, and floors you some- 
 times." 
 
 ** Well , but I forgives him ; it's all done in good humour." 
 
 **Tom , you're a wag ; but you wag your tongue to no purpose. 
 Liquor ar'n't good for a boy like you , and it grows upon you." 
 
 "Well , don't I grow too? we grow together." 
 
 *'You '11 grow faster without it." 
 
 "I 've no wish to be a tall man cut short, like you." 
 If I hadn't been a tall man, my breath would have been cut 
 short for ever ; the ball which took my legs, would have cut you 
 right in half." 
 
 '*And the ball that would take your head off, would whistle 
 over mine ; so there we are equal again." 
 
 **And there's the grog, fast," replied old Tom, turning the 
 key, and putting it into his pocket. "That's a stopper over all; 
 so now we'll go on deck." 
 
 I have narrated this conversation , as it will give the reader a 
 better idea of Tom, and his way of treating his father. Tom 
 was fond of his father , and although mischievous , and too fond of 
 drinking when he could obtain liquor, was not disobedient or 
 vicious. We had nearly reached Battersea-fields when they re- 
 turned on deck* 
 
69 
 
 *'Do you know, Jacob , how the parish of Battersea came into 
 possession of those fields? " 
 ^*No, I do not." 
 
 **Well, then, I'll tell you; it was because the Battersea people 
 were more humane and charitable than their neighbours. There 
 was a time when those fields were of no value , now they're worth a 
 mint of money, they say. The body of a poor devil, who was 
 drowned in the river, was washed on shore on those banks, and 
 none of the parishes would be at the expense of burying it. The 
 Battersea people , though they had least right to be called upon, 
 would not allow the poor feHow's corpse to be lying on the mud, 
 and they went to the expense. Now, when the fields became of 
 value, the other parishes were ready enough to claim them; but 
 the case was tried , and as it was proved that Battersea had buried 
 the body, the fields were decided to belong to that parish. So 
 they were well paid for their humanity , and they deserved it. Mr, 
 Drummond says you know the river well , Jacob." 
 
 "I was born on it." 
 
 **Yes, so I heard, and all about your father and mother's 
 death. I was teUingTom of it, because he's too fond of bowsing 
 up his jib." 
 
 **Wcll, father; there's no occasion to remind Jacob; the tear 
 is in his eye already ," replied Tom , with consideration. 
 
 **I wish you never had any other drop in your eye, — but 
 never mind , Jacob , I did'nt think of what I was saying. Look ye, 
 d'ye see that Httle house with the two chimneys — that's mine, 
 and there's my old woman — I wonder what she's about just now." 
 Old Tom paused for a while , with his eyes fixed on the object, and 
 then burst out — 
 
 *'I 've crossM the wide "waters, I 've trod the lone strand, 
 I 've triumph'd in battle , 1 've lighted the brand; 
 I 've borne the loud thunder of deatli o'er the foam, 
 , Fame, riches, ne'er found them, — jet still found a home. 
 
 **Tom, boy, haul up the skiff and paddle on shore with the 
 bundle; ask the old woman how she is, and tell her I'm hearty." 
 Tom was in the boat in a moment, and pulling lustily for the shore. 
 " That makes me recollect when I returned to my mother, a'ter the 
 
70 
 
 first three years of my sea service. I borrowed the skiff from the 
 skipper — I was in a Greenlandman , my first ship , and pulled 
 ashore to my mother's cottage under the cliff. I thought the old 
 soul would have di£d with joy." Here old Tom was silent, brushed 
 a tear from his eye , and, as usual, commenced a strain, sotto 
 voce. 
 
 ^' Why , what 's that to you , if my eyes I *m a -wiping? 
 A tear is a pleasure, d'ye see, in its way." 
 
 **How miserable," continued he, after another pause, **the 
 poor thing was when I would go to sea — how she begged and pray- 
 ed — boys have no feeling , that's sartain." 
 
 "0 bairn, dinna leave me, to gang far away, 
 0 hairn, dinna leave me , ye 're all that I hae, 
 Think on a mither, the wind and the wave, 
 A mither set on ye, her feet on the grave. 
 
 ** However , she got used to it at last , as the woman said, when 
 she skinned the eels. Tom's a good boy, Jacob , but not steady, 
 as they say you are. His mother spoils him, and I can't bear to 
 be cross to him neither; for his heart's in the right place, after all. 
 There's the old woman shaking her dishclout at us , as a signal. I 
 wish I had gone on shore myself, but I can't step into those paper- 
 built little boats, without my timber toes going through the 
 bottom." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The two Toms take to protocolling. — Treaty of peace ratified between 
 the belligerent parties. — Lots of songs and supper. — The largest 
 mess of roas4; meat upon record. 
 
 Tom then shoved off the skiff. When half-way between tne 
 lighter and the shore , while his mother stood watching us , he lay 
 on his oars. **Tom, Tom!" cried his mother, shaking her fist 
 at him, as he stooped down his head; ** if you do, Tom!" 
 
 Tom, Tom!" "cried his father, shaking his fi§t also; *'if 
 you dare , Tom ! " 
 
 But Tom was not within reach of either party ; and he dragged 
 a bottle out of the basket which his mother had intrusted to him, 
 and putting it to his mouth , took a long swig. 
 
71 
 
 That's enough, Tom ! " screamed his mother, from the shore. 
 That's too much, you rascal!** cried his father, from the 
 barge. 
 
 Neither admonition was , however , minded by Tom , who took 
 what he considered his allowance , and then very coolly pulled 
 alongside, and handed up the basket and bundle of clean clothes 
 on deck. Tom then gave the boat's painter to his father, who, I 
 perceived, intended to salute him with the end of it, as soon as he 
 came up ; but Tom was too knowing — he surged the boat ahead, 
 and was on deck and forward, before his father could stump up 
 to him. The main hatch was open , and Tom put that obstacle 
 between his father and himself, before he commenced his parley. 
 
 What's the matter, father?" said Tom ^ smiling, and look- 
 ing at me. 
 
 *' Matter , you scamp ! How dare, you touch the bottle ! " 
 The bottle — the bottle's there , as good as ever." 
 
 ** The grog is what I mean — how dare you drink it? " 
 
 **I was half way between my mother and you, and so I drank 
 success and long life to you both. Arn't that being a very dutiful 
 son?" 
 
 * ' I wish I had my legs back again , you rascal ! " 
 
 *'You wish you had the grog back again, you mean, father. 
 You have to choose between — for if you had the grog, you'd never 
 keep your legs." 
 
 For the matter of drinking the grog, you scamp, you seem 
 determined to stand in my shoes." 
 
 ** Well, shoes are of no use to you now, father — why shouldn't 
 I? Why don't you trust me? If you hadn't locked the cupboard, 
 I wouldn't have helped myself." And Tom , whose boot-lace was 
 loose , stooped down to make it fast. 
 
 Old Tom , who was still wrath , thought this a good oppor- 
 tunity , as his son's head was turned the other way , to step over 
 t^e bricks , with which , as I before said , the lighter had been 
 laden level with the main hatchway , and take his son by surprise. 
 Tom, who had no idea of his manoeuvre, would certainly have 
 been captured , but , fortunately for him , one of the upper bricks 
 turned over, and let his father's wooden leg down between two of 
 
72 
 
 the piles, where it was jammed fast. Old Tom attempted to ex- 
 tricate himself , but could not. **Tom, Tom, come here," cried 
 he, and pull me out." 
 
 "Not I," replied Tom, coolly. 
 
 "Jacob, Jacob, come here; Tom, run and take the helm." 
 "Not I," replied Tom. 
 
 "Jacob, never mind the helm, she'll drift all right for a mi- 
 nute," cried old Tom; "come, and help me." 
 
 But I had been so amused with the scene , and having a sort of 
 feeling for young Tom , that I declared it impossible to leave the 
 helm without her going on the banks. I therefore remained, 
 wishing to see in what way the two Toms would get out of their 
 respective scrapes. 
 
 "Confound these — ! Tom, you scoundrel, am I to stick 
 here all day?" 
 
 "No, father, I don't suppose you will. I shall help you 
 directly. " 
 
 "Well, then, why don't you do it? " 
 
 * * Because I must come to terms. You don't think I'd help my- 
 self to a thrashing , do you?" 
 
 "I won't thrash you, Tom. Shiver my timbers if I do." 
 " They're in a fair way of being shivered as it is, I think. Now, 
 father, we 're both even." 
 "How's that?" 
 
 "Why, you clapped a stopper over all on me this morning, 
 and now you've got one on yourself." 
 
 "Well, then, take off mine, and I '11 take off yours." 
 " If I unlock your leg , you '11 unlock the cupboard? " 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And you promise me a stiff one after dinner?" 
 
 * * Yes , ' yes ; as stiff as I stand here ." 
 
 "No, that will be too much, for it would set me fast. I 
 only like it about half-and-half, as I took it just now." 
 
 Tom, who was aware that his father would adhere to his agree- 
 ment, immediately went to his assistance , and throwing out some 
 of the upper bricks , released him from his confinement. When 
 old Tom was once more on the deck and on his legs , he observed, 
 
73 
 
 '*It 's an ill wind that blows nobody good. The loss of my legs 
 has been the saving of you many a time, Mr. Tom." 
 
 It was now time to anchor, as we were meeting the flood. Tom, 
 who ofliciated as cook, served up the dinner, which was ready; 
 and we were all very pleasant; Tom treating his father with perfect 
 confidence. As we had not to weigh again for some hours , our 
 repast was prolonged , and old Tom , having fulfilled his promise 
 to his son, ofastiff one, took one or two himself , and became 
 very garrulous. 
 
 ** Come, spin us a good yarn, father; we 've nothing to do, 
 and Jacob will like to hear you." 
 
 **WeIl, then, so I will," answered he; **what shall it be 
 about?" 
 
 *' Fire and water, of course," replied Tom. 
 • **Well, then, I'll tell you something about both, since you 
 wish it; how I came into his Majesty's sarvice through fire, and 
 how the officer who pressed me went out of it through water. I 
 was still 'prentice, and wanted about three months to sarve my 
 time, when, of course, I should no longer be protected from 
 sarving the king, when the ship I was in sailed up the Baltic with a 
 cargo of bullocks. We had at least two hundred on board , tied 
 up on platforms on every deck , with their heads close to the sides, 
 and all their sterns looking in board. They were fat enough when 
 they were shipped, but soon dwindled away : the weather was very 
 bad, and the poor creatures rolled against each other, and slipped 
 about in a way that it pitied you to see them. However, they were 
 stowed so thick, that they held one another up, which proved of 
 service to them in the heavy gales which tossed the ship about like 
 a pea in a rattle. We had joined a large convoy, and were entering 
 the Sound, when, as usual, it fell calm, and out came the Danish 
 gun-boats to attack us. The men-of-war who had charge of the* 
 convoy behaved nobly ; but still they were becalmed , and many of 
 us were a long way astern. Our ship was pretty well up , but she 
 was too far in-shore ; and the Danes made a dash at us with the 
 hope of making a capture. The men-of-war , seeing what the 
 enemy were about, sent boats to beat them off ; but it was too late 
 to prevent them boarding, which they did. Not wishing to peep 
 
74 
 
 through the bars of the gaol at Copenhagen , we left the ship in our 
 boats on one side, just as the Danes boarded on the other, and 
 pulled towards the men-of-war's armed boats coming to our as- 
 sistance. The men-of-war's boats pulled right for the ship to retake 
 her, which they did certainly, but not before the enemy had set fire 
 to the vessel, and had then pulled off towards another. Seeing 
 this, the men-of-war's boats again gave chase to the Danes, 
 leaving us to extinguish the flames , which were now bursting out 
 fore and aft, and climbing like fiery serpents up to the main cat- 
 harpings. We soon found that it was impossible; we remained 
 as long as the heat and smoke would permit us , and then we were 
 obliged to be off; but I shall never forget the roaring and moaning 
 of the poor animals who were then roasting alive. It was a cruel 
 thing of the Danes to fire a vessel full of these poor creatures. 
 Some had broken loose , and were darting up and down the decks 
 goring others, and tumbling down the hatchways: others remained 
 trembling, or trying to snuff up a mouthful of fresh air amongst 
 the smoke; but the struggling and bellowing, as the fire caught 
 tlie vessel fore and aft, and was grilling two hundred poor creatures 
 at once, was at last shocking, and might have been heard for a 
 mile. We did all we could. I cut the throats of a dozen, but they 
 kicked and struggled so much , falling down upon , and treading 
 you under their feet ; and once lay upon me , and I expected to be 
 burnt with them , for it was not until I was helped that I got clear 
 of the poor animal. So we stayed as long as we could , and then 
 left them to their fate ; and the smell of burnt meat as we shoved 
 off, was as horrible as the cries and wailings of the ptfor beasts 
 themselves. The men-of-war's boats returned, having chased 
 away the Danes , and very kindly offered us all a ship, as we had 
 lost our own, so that you see that by fire I was forced into his 
 • Majesty's sarvice. Now, the boat which took us , belonged to one 
 of the frigates who had charge of the convoy, and the lieutenant 
 who commanded the boat, was a swearing, tearing sort of a chap, 
 who lived as if his life was to last for ever. After I was taken on 
 board , the captain asked me if I would enter, and I thought that I 
 might as well sarve the king handsomely , so I volunteered. It's 
 always the best thing to do , when you're taken , and can't help 
 
75 
 
 yourself, for you are more trusted than a pressed man ^vho is 
 obstinate. I liked the sarvice from the first — the captain was not 
 a particular man; according to some people's idea of the sarvice, 
 she wasn't in quite man-of-war fashion, but she was a happy ship, 
 and the men would have followed and fought for the captain to the 
 last drop of their blood. That 's the sort of ship for me. I've seen 
 cleaner decks, but I never saw merrier hearts. The only one of the 
 officers disliked by the men was the lieutenant who pressed me ; he 
 had a foul mouth, and no discretion ; and as for swearing , it was 
 really terrible to hear the words which came out of his mouth. I 
 don't mind an oath rapped out in the heat of the moment, but he 
 invented his oaths when he was cool , and let them out in his rage. 
 We were returning home, after having seen the convoy safe, when 
 we met with a gale of wind in our teeth , one of the very worst I 
 ever fell in with. It had been blowing hard from the S. W. , and 
 then shifted to the N. W. , and made a cross sea , which was tre- 
 mendous. Now, the frigate was a very old vessel , and although 
 they had often had her into dock and repaired her below, they had 
 taken no notice of her upper works , which were as rotten as a 
 medlar. I think it was about three bells in the middle watch , when 
 the wind was howling through the rigging, for we had no canvas 
 onher'cept a staysail and trysail, when the staysail sheet went, 
 and she broached-to afore they could prevent her. The lieutenant 
 I spoke of had the watch, and his voice was heard through the 
 roaring of the wind, swearing at the men to haul down the staysail, 
 that we might bend on the sheet, and set it right again ; when, she 
 having, I said, broached-to, a wave — ay , a wave as high as the 
 maintop almost, took the frigate right on her broadside , and the 
 bulwarks of the quarter deck being, as I said, quite rotten, cut 
 them off clean level with the main chains, sweeping them, and 
 guns , and men , all overboard together. The mizen-mast went, 
 but the main-mast held on , and I was under its lee at the time, 
 and was saved by clinging on like a nigger, while for a minute I 
 was under the water , which carried almost all away with it to lee- 
 ward. As soon as the water passed over me , I looked up and 
 around me — it was quite awful ; the quarter-deck was cut off as 
 with a knife — not a soul left there , that I could see ; no man at 
 
76 
 
 the wheel — mizen-mast gone — skylights washed away — waves 
 making a clear breach , and no defence ; boats washed away from 
 the quarters — all silent on deck , but plenty of noise below and 
 on the main-deck , for the ship was nearly full of water, and all 
 below were hurrying up in their shirts, thinking that we were 
 going down. At last the captain crawled up, and clung by the 
 stancheons , followed by the first lieutenant and the officers , and 
 by degrees all was quiet, the ship was cleared, and the hands were 
 turned up to muster under the half-deck. There were forty-seven 
 men who did not answer to their names — they had been sum- 
 moned to answer for their lives , poor fellows ! and there was also 
 the swearing lieutenant not to be found. Well , at last we got the 
 hands on deck, and put her before the wind , scudding under bare 
 poles. As we went aft to the taffrail, the bulwark of which still 
 remained , with about six feet of the quarter-deck bulwark on each 
 side, we observed something clinging to the stern ladder, dipping 
 every now and then into the sea, as it rose under her counter, and 
 assisted the wind in driving her before the gale. We soon made it 
 out to be a man , and I went down , slipped a bowling knot over 
 the poor fellow , and with some difficulty we were both hauled up 
 again. It proved to be the lieutenant, who had been washed under 
 the counter, and clung to the stern ladder, and had thus miracu- 
 lously been preserved. It was a long while before he came to, and 
 he never did any duty the whole week we were out, till we got into 
 Yarmouth Roads ; indeed, he hardly ever spoke a word to any one, 
 but seemed to be always in serious thought. When we arrived, he 
 gave his commission to the captain, and went on shore; went to 
 school again, they say, and b ore up for a parson, and for all 
 I know, he '11 preach somewhere next Sunday. So you see , water 
 drove him out of the service, and fire forced me in. There 's a 
 yarn for you , Jacob." 
 
 ' * I like it very much replied I. 
 
 ** And now, father, give us a whole song, and none of your 
 little bits." Old Tom broke out with the * 'Death of Nelson," in 
 a style that made the tune and words ring in my ears for the whole 
 evening. 
 
 The moon was up before the tide served , and we weighed our 
 
77 
 
 anchor; old Tom steering, while his son was preparing supper, 
 and I remaining forward , keeping a sharp look out that we did not 
 run foul of any thing. It was a beautiful night ; and as we passed 
 through the several bridges , the city appeared as if it were illumi- 
 nated, from the quantity of gas throwing a sort of halo of light 
 over the tops of the buildings which occasionally marked out the 
 main streets from the general dark mass — old Tom's voice was 
 still occasionally heard, as the scene brought to his remembrance 
 his variety of song. 
 
 "For the murmur of thy lip, love, 
 Comes sweetly unto me, 
 As the sound of oars that dip, love, 
 At moonlight in the sea." 
 
 I never was more delighted than when I heard these snatches of 
 different songs poured forth in such melody from old Tom's lips, 
 the notes floating along the water during the silence of the night. 
 I turned aft to look at him; his face was directed upwards, looking 
 on the moon , which glided majestically through the heavens , sil- 
 vering the whole of the landscape. The water was smooth as glass, 
 and the rapid tide had swept us clear of the ranges of ships in the 
 pool; both banks of the river were clear, when old Tom again 
 commenced. 
 
 "The moon is up, her silver heam 
 
 Shines bower, and grove, and mountain over, 
 A flood of radiance heaven doth seem 
 To light thee, maiden, to thy lover. 
 
 "Jacob, how does the bluff-nob bear? on the starboard 
 bow?" 
 
 ** Yes — broad on the bow; you 'd better keep up half a point, 
 the tide sweeps us fast.'* 
 
 *' Very true , Jacob ; look out , and say when Steady it is, boy. 
 
 "If o'er her orb a cloud should rest, 
 
 'T is but thy cheek's soft blush to cover; 
 He waits to clasp thee to Jiis breast. 
 The moon is up — go, meet thy lover. 
 
 **Tom , what have you got for supper , boy? What's that frizzing 
 in your frying-pan? Smells good , any how." 
 
 **Yes, and I expect will taste good too. However, you look 
 
78 
 
 after the moon, father, and leave me and the frying-pan to play 
 our parts." 
 
 While I sing mine, I suppose, boy. 
 
 "The moon is up, round beauty's shrine, 
 Love's pilgrims bend at vesper hour. 
 Earth breathes to heaven, and looks divine, 
 And lovers' hearts confess her power.'* 
 
 Old Tom Stopped , and the frying-pan frizzed on , sending 
 forth an odour which , if not grateful to Heaven , was peculiarly 
 so to us mortals, hungry with the fresh air. **How do we go 
 now, Jacob?" 
 
 "Steady, and all's right; but we shall be met with the wind 
 next reach , and had better brail up the mainsail." 
 Go then, Tom, and help Jacob." 
 
 "I can't leave the in gons, father, not if the lighter tumbled 
 overboard; it would bring more tears in my eyes to spoil them, 
 now that they are frying so merrily, than they did when I was 
 cutting them up. Besides , the liver would be as black as the 
 bends." 
 
 ''Clap the frying-pan down on deck, Tom, and brail the sail 
 up with Jacob , there's a good boy. You can give it another shake 
 or two afterwards." 
 
 " Glide on , my bark; how sweet to rove, 
 With such a beaming eye above! 
 
 That's right, my boys, belay all that; now to our stations; 
 Jacob on the look- out , Tom to his frying-pan , and I to the helm. 
 
 "No sound is heard to break the spell. 
 Except the water's gentle swell; 
 While midnight, like a mimic day, 
 Shines on to guide our moonlight way. 
 
 "Well, the moon's a beautiful creature — God bless her! How 
 often have we longed for her in the dark winter, channel-cruizing, 
 when the waves were flying over the Eddystone, and trying in their 
 malice to put out the light. I don't wonder at people making songs 
 to the moon , nor at my singing them. We '11 anchor when we get 
 down the next reach." 
 
 We swept the next reach with the tide , which was now slack- 
 ing fast. Our anchor was dropped, and we all went to supper, 
 
79 
 
 and to bed. I have been particular in describing the first day of 
 my being on board with my new shipmates, as it may be taken as a 
 sample of our every-day life; Tom and his father fighting and 
 making friends, cooking, singing, and spinning yarns ; still, I 
 shall have more scenes to describe. Our voyage was made, we 
 took in a return cargo, and arrived at the proprietor's wharf, when 
 I found that I could not proceed with them the next voyage , as the 
 trial of Fleming and Marables was expected to come on in a few' 
 days. The lighter, therefore, took in another cargo, and sailed 
 without me ; Mr. Drummond , as usual , giving me the run of 
 his house. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 I help to hang my late bargemate for hig attempt to drown me. — One 
 good turn deserves another. — The subject suddenly dropped, at 
 Newgate. — A yarn in the law line. — With due precautions and 
 preparations, the Domine niakes his first voyage — to Gravesend. 
 
 It was on the 7th of November^ if I recollect rightly, that 
 Fleming and Marables were called up to trial at the Old Bailey, and 
 I was in the court, with Mr. Drummond and the Domine, soon 
 after ten o'clock. After the judge had taken his seat, as their 
 trial was first on the list , they were ushered in. They were both 
 clean , and well dressed. In Fleming I could perceive little dilTe- 
 rence ; he was pale , but resolute : but when I looked at Marables, 
 I was astonished. Mr. Drummond did not at first recognise 
 him ; — he had fallen away from seventeen stone to , at the most, 
 thirteen — his clothes hung loosely about him — his ruddy cheeks 
 had vanished — his nose was become sharp , and his full round 
 face had been changed to an oblong. Still there remained that 
 natural good-humoured expression in his countenance, and the 
 sweet smile played upon his lips. His eyes glanced fearfully round 
 the court — he felt his disgraceful situation — the colour mounted 
 to his temples and forehead, and he then became again pale as a 
 sheet , casting down his eyes , as if desirous to see no more. 
 
 After the indictment had been read over, the prisoners were 
 asked by the clerk whether they pleaded guilty or not guilty. *' Not 
 
80 
 
 guilty,'* replied Fleming, in a bold voice. **John Marables — 
 guilty or not guilty?" Guilty," replied Marables — guilty, 
 my lord ; " and he covered up his face with his hands. 
 
 Fleming was indicted on three counts; — an assault, with 
 intent to murder; having stolen goods in his possession; and for 
 a burglary in a dwelling-house , on such a date ; but I understand 
 that they had nearly twenty more charges against him , had these 
 failed. Marables was indicted for having been an accessary to the 
 last charge, as receiver of stolen goods. The counsel for the 
 crown, who opened the trial, stated that Fleming, alias Barkett, 
 alias Wenn, with many more aliases, had for a long while 
 been at the head of the most notorious gang of thieves which had 
 infested the metropolis for many years; that justice had long been 
 in search of him, but that he had disappeared, and it had been 
 supposed that he had quitted the kingdom to avoid the penalties of 
 the law, to which he had subjected himself by his enormities. It 
 appeared, however, that he had taken a step which not only 
 blinded the officers of the police, but at the same time had enabled 
 the gang to carry on their depredations with more impunity than 
 ever. He had concealed himself in a lighter on the river, and ap- 
 pearing in her as one diligently performing his duty, and earning 
 his livelihood as an honest man , had by such means been enabled 
 even to extend his influence , the number of his associates , and 
 his audacious schemes. The principal means of detection in cases 
 of burglary was by advertising the goods , and the great difficulty 
 on the part of such miscreants was to obtain a ready sale for them 
 — the receivers of stolen goods being aware that the thieves were 
 at their mercy, and must accept what was offered. Now, to ob- 
 viate these difficulties, Fleming had, as we before observed, con- 
 cealed himself from justice on board of a river barge, which was 
 made the receptacle for stolen goods : those which had been ne- 
 fariously obtained at one place , being by him and his associates 
 carried up and down the river in the craft, and disposed of at a 
 great distance , by which means the goods were never brought to 
 light, so as to enable the police to recognise or trace them. This 
 system had now been carried on with great success for upwards of 
 twelve months , and would , in all probability, have not been dis- 
 
81 
 
 covered even now , had it not been that a quarrel as to profits had 
 taken place , which had induced two of his associates to give in- 
 formation to the officers ; and these two associates had also been 
 permitted to turn king's evidence , in a case of burglary, in which 
 Fleming was a principal, provided that it was considered necessary. 
 But there was a more serious charge against the prisoner, — that 
 of having attempted the life of a boy, named Jacob Faithful , be- 
 longing to the lighter , and who , it appeared , had suspicions of 
 what was going on, and, in duty to his master, had ciarefully 
 watched the proceedings, and given notice to others of what he 
 had discovered from time to time. The lad was the chief evidence 
 against the prisoner Fleming, and also against Marables, the 
 other prisoner, of whom he could only observe, that circum- 
 stances would transpire, during the trial, in his favour, which he 
 had no doubt would be well considered by his lordship. He would 
 not detain the gentlemen of the jury any longer , but at once call 
 on his witnesses. 
 
 I was then summoned, again asked the same questions as to 
 the nature of an oath, and the judge being satisfied with my replies, 
 I gave my evidence as before ; the judge, as I perceived, carefully 
 examining my previous deposition , to ascertain if any thing I now 
 said was at variance with my former assertions. I was then cross- 
 examined by the counsel for Fleming, but he could not make me 
 vary in my evidence. I did, however, take the opportunity, 
 whenever I was able, of saying all I could in favour of Marables. 
 At last, the counsel said he would ask me no more questions. I 
 was dismissed ; and the police officer who had picked me up , and 
 other parties who identified the various property as their own, 
 and the manner in which they had been robbed of it , were 
 examined. The evidence was too clear to admit of doubt. The 
 jury immediately returned a verdict of guilty against Fleming and 
 Marables , but strongly recommended Marables to the mercy of 
 the crown. The judge rose , put on his black cap , and addressed 
 the prisoners as follows. The court was so still , that a pin falling 
 might have been heard. 
 
 '*You, William Fleming, have been tried by a jury of your 
 countrymen , upon the charge of receiving stolen goods , to whiph 
 
 Jacob Faithful 6 
 
82 
 
 you have added the most atrocious crime of intended murder. You 
 have had a fair and impartial trial, and have been found guilty; 
 and it appears that, even had you escaped in this instance , other 
 charges equally heavy, and which would equally consign you to 
 condign punishn*ent, were in readiness to be preferred against 
 you. Your life has been one of guilt , not only in your own person, 
 but also in abetting and stimulating others to crime ; and you have 
 wound up your shameful career by attempting the life of a fellow- 
 creature. To hold out to you any hope of mercy is impossible. 
 Your life is justly forfeited to the offended laws of your country; 
 and your sentence is , that you be removed from this court to the 
 place from whence you came, and from thence to the place of 
 execution , there to be hanged by the neck till you are dead ; and 
 may God , in his infinite goodness , have mercy on your soul ! 
 
 **You, John Marables, have pleaded guilty to the charges 
 brought against you; and it has appeared, during the evidence 
 brought out on the trial , that , although you have been a party to 
 these nefarious transactions , you are far from being hardened in 
 your guilt." [**No, no!" exclaimed Marables.] **I believe 
 sincerely that you are not , and much regret that one who , from 
 the evidence brought forward , appears to have been , previously 
 to this unfortunate connection, an honest man, should now appear 
 in so disgraceful a situation. A severe punishment is, however, 
 demanded by the voice of justice , and by that sentence of the law 
 you must now be condemned : at the same time I trust that an 
 appeal to the mercy of your sovereign will not be made in vain." 
 
 The judge then passed the sentence upon Marables , the pri- 
 soners were led out of court, and a new trial commenced; while 
 Mr. Drummond and the Domine conducted me home. About a 
 week after the trial, Fleming suffered the penalty of the law; 
 while Marables was sentenced to transportation for life , which, 
 however, previous to his sailing, was commuted to seven years. 
 
 In a few days, the lighter returned. Her arrival was an- 
 nounced to me, one fine sunny morning, as I lay in bed, by a 
 voice , whose well-known notes poured into my ear , as I was half 
 dozing on my pillow. 
 
83 
 
 "Bright are the heams of the morning sky, 
 And sweet the dew the red blossoms sip, 
 But brighter the glances on dear woman's eye — 
 
 *' Tom , you monkey, belay the warp , and throw the fenders over 
 the side. Be smart, or old Fuzzle will be growling about his red 
 paint. 
 
 "And sweet is the dew on her lip." 
 
 I jumped out of my little crib, threw open the window, the 
 panes of which were crystallised with the frost in the form of little 
 trees , and beheld the lighter just made fast to the wharf, the sun 
 shining brightly, old Tom's face as cheerful as the morn , and 
 young Tom laughing, jumping about, and blowing his fingers. 
 I was soon dressed , and shaking hands with my bargemates. 
 
 ''Well, Jacob, how do you like the Old Bailey? Never was 
 in it but once in my life , and never mean to go again if I can help 
 it ; that was , when Sam Bowles was tried for his life , but my 
 evidence saved him. I'll tell you how it was. Tom, look a'ter 
 the breakfast ; a bowl of tea this cold morning will be worth having. 
 Come, jump about." 
 
 '*But I never heard the story of Sam Bowles answered Tom. 
 
 "What's that to you? I'm telling it to Jacob." 
 
 "But I want to hear it — so go on, father. I'll start you. 
 Well, d'ye see, Sam Bowles — " 
 
 "Master Tom, them as play with bowls may meet with 
 rubbers. Take care I don't rub down your hide. Off, you 
 thief, and get breakfast." 
 
 "No, I won't; if I don't have your Bowles, you shall 
 have no bowls of tea. I 've made my mind up to that." 
 
 "I tell you what , Tom ; I shall never get any good out of you, 
 until I have both your legs ampitated. I've a great mind to send for 
 the farrier." 
 
 "Thanky, father; but I find them very useful." 
 
 "Well," said I, "suppose we put off the story till breakfast 
 time , and I'll go and help Tor^ to get it ready." 
 
 "Be it so, Jacob. I suppose Tom must have his way, as I 
 spoilt him myself. I made him so fond of yarns , so I was a fool to 
 be vexed. 
 
 6* 
 
84 
 
 "Oh I life is a river, and man is the boat 
 That over its surface is destined to float; 
 And joy is a cargo so easily stored, 
 That he is a fool who takes sorrow on board. 
 
 **Now I'll go on shore to master, and find out what 's to be 
 done next. Give me my stick, boy, and I shall crawl over the 
 planks a little safer. A safe stool must have three legs, you 
 know." 
 
 Old Tom then stumped away on shore. In about a quarter of 
 an hour he returned , bringing half a dozen red herrings. *' Here, 
 Tom, grill these sodgers. Jacob, who is that tall oid chap , with 
 such a devil of a cutwater , that I met just now with master? We 
 are bound for Sheerness this trip , and I'm to land him at Green- 
 wich." 
 
 What, the Domine?" replied I, from old Tom's description. 
 **His name did begin with a D , but that wasn't it.'* 
 **Dobbs?" 
 
 *'Yes, that 's nearer; he's to be a passenger on board of us, 
 going down to see a friend who's very ill. Now, Tom, my hearty, 
 bring out the crockery, for I want a little inside lining." 
 
 We all sat down to our breakfast , and as soon as old Tom had 
 finished , his son called for the history of Sam Bowles. 
 
 Well , now you shall have it. Sam Bowles was a shipmate of 
 mine on board of the Greenlandman ; he was one of our best 
 harpooners , and a good, quiet, honest messmate , as ever slung a 
 hammock. He was spliced to as pretty a piece of flesh as ever was 
 seen, but she wasn't as good as she was pretty. We were fitting 
 out for another voyage , and his wife had been living on board with 
 him some weeks , for Sam was devilish spoony on her, and couldn't 
 bear her to be out of his sight. As we 'spected to sail in a few 
 days , we were filling up our complement of men , and fresh hands 
 came on board every day. 
 
 **One morning, a fine tall fellow, with a tail as thick as a 
 hawser , came on board and ofrere4 himself ; he was taken by the 
 skipper, and went on shore again to get his traps. While he was 
 still on deck I went below , and seeing Sam with his little wife on 
 his knee playing with his love-locks , I said that there was a famous 
 
85 
 
 stout and good-looking fellow that we should have as a shipmate. 
 Sam's wife , who, like all women, was a little curious, put her head 
 up the hatchway to look at him. She put it down again very quick, 
 as I thought, and made some excuse to go forward in the eyes of 
 her, where she remained some time, and then , when she came aft, 
 told Sam that she would go on shore. Now, as it had been agreed 
 that she should remain on board till we were clear of the river, Sam 
 couldn't think what the matter was ; but she was positive , and go 
 away she did , very much to Sam's astonishment and anger. In the 
 evening, Sam went on shore and found her out, and what d'ye 
 think the little Jezebel told him? — why, that one of the men had 
 been rude to her when she went forward, and that 's why she 
 wouldn't stay on board. Sam was in a devil of a passion at this, 
 and wanted to know which was the man ; but she fondled him, and 
 wouldn't tell him , because she was afraid that he 'd be hurt. At 
 last she bamboozled him , and sent him on board again quite con- 
 tent. Well, we remained three days longer, and then dropped 
 down the river to Greenwich, where the captain was to come on 
 board , and we were to sail as soon as the wind was fair. Now, this 
 fine tall fellow was with us when we dropped down the river, and 
 as Sam was sitting down on his chest eating a basin o* soup, the 
 other man takes out a 'baccy pouch of seal-skin ; — it was a very 
 curious one , made out of the white and spotted part of a young 
 seal's belly. *I say, shipmate,' cries Sam, *hand me over my 
 'baccy pouch. Where did you pick it up?' 
 
 '*'Your pouch!' says he to him; *I killed the seal, and my 
 fancy girl made the pouch for me.' 
 
 ** * Well , if that ar'n't cool ! you'd swear a man out of his life, 
 mate. Tom ,' says he to me , * ar'n't that my pouch which my wife 
 gave me n^hen I came back last trip?" 
 
 **I looked at it, and knew it again, and said it was. The tall 
 fellow denied it, and there was a devil of a bobbery. Sam called 
 him a thief, and he pitched Sam right down the main hatchway 
 among the casks. After that there was a regular set-to, and Sam 
 was knocked all to shivers , and obliged to give in. When the fight 
 was over, I took up Sam's shirt for him to put on. *That 's my 
 shirt,' cried the tall fellow. 
 
St) 
 
 ' That *s Sam*s shirt / replied I ; * I know it his.' 
 
 * I tell you it 's mine replied the man ; * my lass gave it to 
 me to put on when I got up this morning. The other is his shirt/ 
 
 We looked at the other, and they both were Sam's shirts. 
 Now when Sam heard this , he put two and two together , and be- 
 came very jealous and uneasy : he thought it odd that his wife was 
 so anxious to leave the ship when this tall fellow carlie on board ; 
 and what with the pouch and the shirt, he was puzzled. His wife 
 had promised to come down to Greenwich and see him off. When 
 we anchored , some of the men went on shore — among others the 
 tail fellow. Sam, whose head was swelled up like a pumpkin , told 
 one of his shipmates to say to his wife that he could not come on 
 shore, and that she must come off to him. Well , it was about nine 
 o'clock, dark, and all the stars were twinkling, when Sam says to 
 me , ' Tom , let 's go on shore ; my black eyes can't be seen in the 
 dark.' As we hauled up the boat, the second mate told Sam to 
 take his harpoon iron on shore for him , to have the hole for the 
 bccket punched larger. Away we went, and the first place of 
 course that Sam went to , was the house where he knew that his 
 wife put up at, as before. He went up-stairs to her room , and I 
 followed him. The door was not made fast, and in we went. There 
 was his little devil of a wife, fast asleep in the arms of the tall 
 fell6w. Sam couldn't command his rage , and having the harpoon 
 iron in his hand , he drove it right through the tall fellow's body, 
 before I could prevent him. It was a dreadful sight: the man 
 groaned , and his head fell over the side of the bed. Sam's wife 
 screamed , and made Sam more wroth by throwing herself on the 
 man's body , and weeping over it. Sam would have pulled out the 
 iron to run her through with , but that was impossible. The noise 
 brought up the people of the house , and it was soon known that 
 murder had been committed. The constables came, Sam was 
 thrown into prison , and I went on board and told the whole story. 
 Well, we were just about to heave up, for we had shipped two 
 more men in place of Sam , who was to be tried for his life , and the 
 poor fellow he had killed , when a lawyer chap came on board with 
 what they call a suppeny for me; all I know is, that the lawyer 
 pressed me into his service , and I lost my voyage. I was takeu on 
 
87 
 
 shore , and well fed till the trial came on. Poor Sam was at the bar 
 for murder. The gentleman in his gown and wig began his yarn, 
 stating how the late fellow , whose name was Will Errol , was with 
 his own wife when Sam harpooned him. 
 
 * That 's a lie ! ' cried Sam ; * he was with my wife.* 
 
 *"My lord / said the lawyer, * that is not the case ; it was his 
 own wife , and here are the marriage certificates.' 
 
 False papers!' roared Sam. *Here are mine;* and he 
 pulled out his tin case , and handed them to the court. 
 
 "The judge said that this was not the way to try people, and 
 that Sam must hold his tongue; so the trial went on, and at first 
 they had it all their own way. Then our turn came , and I was 
 called up to prove what had passed , and I stated how the man was 
 with Sam's wife , and how he , having the harpoon iron in his hand, 
 had run it through his body. Then they compared the certificates, 
 and it .was proved that the little Jezebel had married them both; 
 but she had married Sam first, so he had most right to her; but, 
 fancying the other man afterwards , she thought she might as well 
 have two strings to her Low. So the judge declared that she was 
 Sam's wife, and that any man, even without the harpoon in his 
 hand , would be justified in killing a man whom he found in bed 
 with his own wife. So Sam went scot free ; but the judge wouldn't 
 let off Sam's wife, as she had caused murder by her wicked con- 
 duct; he tried her a'terwards for biggery, as they call it, and 
 sent her over the water for life. Sam never held up his head a'ter- 
 wards ; what with having killed an innocent man , and the 'haviour 
 of his wife, he was always down. He went out to the fishery, and a 
 whale cut the boat in two with her tail ; Sam was stunned, and went 
 down like a stone. So you see the mischief brought about by this 
 little Jezebel , who musUiave two husbands , and be d — d to her." 
 
 *'Well, that's a good yarn, father," said Tom, as soon as 
 it was finished. * 'I was right in saying I would hear it. Wasn't I?" 
 
 *'No," replied old Tom, putting out his large hand, and 
 seizing his son by the collar ; and now you 've put me in mind of 
 it , I '11 pay you off for old scores." 
 
 **Lord love you, father, you don't owe me any thing," said 
 Tom. 
 
88 
 
 **Yes, I do, and now I'll give you a receipt in full." 
 
 **0 Lord! they'll be drowned/' screamed Tom, holding up 
 both his hands with every symptom of terror. f 
 
 Old Tom turned short round to look in the direction , letting go 
 his hold. Tom made his escape, and burst out a-laughing. I 
 laughed also , and so at last did his father. 
 
 I went on shore, and found that old Tom's report was correct 
 — the Domine was at breakfast with Mr. Drummond. The new 
 usher had charge of the boys , and the governors had allowed him 
 a fortnight's holiday to visit an old friend at Greenwich. To save 
 expense, as well as to indulge his curiosity, the old man had ob- 
 tained a passage down in the lighter. "Never yet , Jacob , have I 
 put my feet into that which floateth on the watery element," ob- 
 served he to me; '*nor would I now, but that it savetb money, 
 which thou knowest well is with me not plentiful. Many dangers I 
 expect, many perils shall I encounter; such have I read of in 
 books; and well might Horace exclaim — 'Illi robur et aes 
 triplex,' with reference to the first man who ventured afloat 
 Still doth Mr. Drummond assure me that the lighter is of that 
 strength as to be able to resist the force of the winds and waves ; 
 and , confiding in Providence , I intend to venture , Jacob , * te 
 duce.'" 
 
 **Nay, Sir," replied I, laughing at the idea which the Doming 
 appeared to have formed of the dangers of river navigation, **old 
 Tom is the Dux." 
 
 Old Tom ; where have I seen that name? Now I do recall to 
 mind that I have seen the same painted in large letters upon a cask 
 at the tavern bar of the inn at Brentford ; but what it did intend to 
 signify, I did not inquire. What connection is there?" 
 
 '*None," replied I; *'butl rather think they are very good 
 friends. The tide turns in half an hour , Sir ; are you ready to go 
 onboard?" 
 
 **TrulyamI, and well prepared , having my habiliments in a 
 bundle, my umbrella and my great coat, as well as my spencer 
 for general wear. But where I am to sleep hath not yet been made 
 known tome. Peradventure one sleepeth not — 'tan to in 
 periculo.*" 
 
89 
 
 '* Yes , Sir , we do. You shall have my berth , and I'll turn in 
 with young Tom." 
 
 **Hast thou, then, a young Tom as well as an old Tom on 
 board?" 
 
 ** Yes, Sir; and a dog, also of the name of Tommy." 
 Well , then , we will embark , and thou shalt make me known 
 to this triad of Thomases. *Inde Tomos d ictus locus est/ 
 (Cluck, cluck.) Ovid, I thank thee." f 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Much learning afloat. — Young Tom is very lively upon the ilead lan- 
 guages. — The Domine, after experiencing the Avonders of the mighty 
 deep, prepares to revel upon lohscouse. — Though the man of learn- 
 ing gets many songs and some yarns from old Tom, he loses the best 
 part of a tale without kno-wing it. 
 
 Thb old Domine's bundle and other paraphernalia being sent 
 on board, he took farewell of Mr. Drummond and his family in so 
 serious a manner, that I was convinced that he considered he was 
 about to enter upon a dangerous adventure , and then I led him 
 down to the wharf where the lighter lay alongside. It was with 
 some trepidation that he crossed the plank, and got on board, when 
 he recovered himself and looked round. 
 
 **My sarvice to you, old gentleman ," said a voice behind the 
 Domine. It was that of old Tom , who had just come from the 
 cabin. The Domine turned round and perceived old Tom. 
 
 **This is old Tom, Sir," said I to the Domine, who stared 
 with astonishment. 
 
 Art thou indeed? Jacob, thou didst not tell me that he had 
 been curtailed of his fair proportions, and I was surprised. Art 
 thou then Dux?" continued the Domine, addressing old Tom. 
 
 ** Yes ," interrupted young Tom , who had come from for\^^ard, 
 **heis ducks, because he waddles on his short stumps; and I 
 won*t say who be goose. Eh , father?" 
 
 ** Take care you don't buy goose, for your imperance , Sir," 
 cried old Tom. 
 
 *' A forward boy ," exclaimed the Domine. 
 
90 
 
 **Yes," replied Tom ; I *m generally forward." 
 ** Art thou forward in thy learning? Canst thou tell me Latin 
 for goose?" 
 
 *' To be sure," replied Tom; Brandy." 
 **Brandy!" exclaimed the Domine. * 'Nay, child, it is anser." 
 *' Then I was right," replied Tom. You had your answer!" 
 '*Theboy is apt." (Cluck, cluck.) 
 
 '*He i^apt to be devilish saucy, old gentleman; but never 
 mind that , there's no harm in him." 
 
 "This, then, is young Tom, I presume, Jacob," said the 
 Domine , referring to me. 
 
 ''Yes, Sir," replied I. You have seen old Tom, and young 
 Tom , and you have only to see Tommy." 
 
 "Want to see Tommy, Sir?" cried Tom. "Here, Tommy, 
 Tommy!" 
 
 But Tommy, who was rather busy with a bone forward, did 
 not immediately answer to his call , and the Domine turned round 
 to survey the river. The scene was busy, barges and boats passing 
 in every direction , others lying on shore , with waggons taking out 
 the coals and other cargoes, men at work, shouting or laughing 
 with each other. "'Populus in fluviis,' as Yirgil hath it. 
 Grand indeed is the vast river. *Labitur et labetur in omne 
 volubilis aevum,' as the generations of men are swept into 
 eternity," said the Domine musing aloud. But Tommy had now 
 made his appearance, andTom, in his mischief, had laid hold of the 
 tail of the Domine's coat, and shown it to the dog. The dog, ac- 
 customed to seize a rope when it was shown to him , immediately 
 seized the Domine's coat, making three desperate tugs at it. The 
 Domine, who was in one of his reveries, and probably thought it 
 was I , who wished to direct his attention elsewhere , each time 
 waved his hand , without turning round, as much as to say — "I 
 am busy now." 
 
 "Haul and hold," cried Tom to the dog, splitting his sides 
 and the tears running down his cheeks with laughing. Tommy 
 made one more desperate tug, carrying away one tail of the Do- 
 mine's coat; but the Domine perceived it not, he was still "in 
 nubibus," while the dog galloped forward with the fragment, 
 
91 
 
 and Tom chased him to recover it. The Domine continued in his 
 reverie , when old Tom burst out — 
 
 "0 England, dear England, bright gem of the ocean, 
 Thy valleys and fields look fertile and gay. 
 The heart clings to thee m ith a sacred devotion, 
 And memoty adores when in far lands away.'* 
 
 The song gradually called the Domine to his recollection ; in- 
 deed , the strain was so beautiful , that it would have vibrated in 
 the ears of a dying man. The Domine gradually turned round, 
 and when old Tom had finished , exclaimed , ** Truly it did delight 
 mine ear, and from such — and continued the Domine, looking 
 down upon old Tom — without legs too ! " 
 
 *'Why, old gentleman, I don't sing with my legs," an- 
 swered old Tom. 
 
 **Nay, good Dux, I am not so deficient as not to be aware that 
 a man singeth from the mouth ; yet is thy voice mellifluous , sweet 
 as the honey of Hybla , strong — " 
 
 ** As the Latin for goose," finished Tom. **Come, father, old 
 Dictionary is in the doldrums; rouse him up with another 
 stave. " 
 
 **I'll rouse you up with the stave of a cask over your shoulders, 
 Mr. Tom. What have you done with the old gentleman's swallow 
 tail?" 
 
 Leave me to settle that affair, father; 1 know how to get out 
 of a scrape." 
 
 *'So you ought, you scamp, considering how many you get 
 into ; but the craft are swinging and heaving up. Forward there, 
 Jacob , and sway up the mast ; there 's Tom and Tommy to help 
 you." 
 
 The mast was hoisted up, the sail set, and the lighter in the 
 stream , before the Domine was out of his reverie. 
 
 Are there whirlpools here? " said the Domine , talking more 
 to himself than to those about him. 
 
 "Whirlpools!" replied young Tom, who was watching and 
 mocking him; **yes, that there are, under the bridges. I 've 
 watched a dozen chips go down one after the other." 
 
92 
 
 *' A dozen ships!" exclaimed the Domine , turning to Tom ; 
 * ' and every soul lost? " 
 
 ** Never saw them afterwards," replied Tom in a mournful 
 voice. 
 
 "How little did I dream of the dangers of those so near me," 
 said the Domine, turning away, and communing with himself. 
 '* ' Those who go down to the sea in ships , and occupy their busi- 
 ness in great waters;' — *Et vastas aperit Syrtes*/ — *These 
 men see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.' *A1- 
 ternante vorans vasta Charybdis aqua.' — *For at his 
 word the stormy wind ariseth , which lifteth up the waves thereof.' 
 — *Surgens a puppi ventus. — TJbi tempestas et coeli 
 mob i lis humor,' — 'They are carried up to the heavens, and 
 down again to the deep.' — * Gurgitibus miris et lactis ver- 
 tice torrens.' — 'Their soul melteth away because of their 
 trouble.' — *Stant pavidi. Omnibus ignotae mortis ti- 
 mor, omnibus hostem.' — * They reel to and fro, and stagger 
 like a drunken man.'" 
 
 So they do, father, don't they, sometimes?" observed Tom, 
 leering his eye at his father. *' That 's all I 've understood of his 
 speech." 
 
 "They are at their wit's end ," continued the Domine. 
 
 "Mind the end of your wit, master Tom," answered his fa- 
 ther, wroth at the insinuation. 
 
 " *So when they call upon the Lord in their trouble' — * Cu j u s 
 jurare timent et fallere nomen' — *He delivereth them out 
 of their distress , for he maketh the storm to cease , so that the 
 waves thereof are still ; ' yea, still and smooth as the peaceful water 
 which now floweth rapidly by our anchored vessel — yet it ap- 
 peareth to me that the scene hath changed. These fields met not 
 mine eye before. *Riparumque toros et prata recentia 
 rivis.' Surely we have moved from the wharf" — and the Domine 
 turned round , and discovered , for the first time , that we were 
 more than a mile from the place at which we had embarked. 
 
 "Pray, Sir, what 's the use of speech. Sir?" interrogated 
 Tom , who had been listening to the whole of the Domine's long , 
 soliloquy. 
 
93 
 
 * ' Thou askest a foolish question , boy. We are endowed with 
 the power of speech to enable us to communicate our ideas." 
 
 *'That 's exactly what I thought, Sir. Then pray what 's the 
 use of your talking all that gibberish, that none of us could under- 
 stand?" 
 
 I crave thy pardon , child ; I spoke , I presume , in the dead 
 languages." 
 
 " If they 're dead , why not let them rest in their graves?" 
 
 '*Good: thouhastwit. (Cluck, cluck.) Yet, child, know 
 that it is pleasant to commune with the dead." 
 
 Is it? then we '11 put you on shore at Battersea churchyard." 
 
 *' Silence, Tom. He 's full of his sauce. Sir, — you must 
 forgive it." 
 
 " Nay, it pleaseth me to hear him talk ; but it would please mc 
 more to hear thee sing." 
 
 " Then here goes , Sir , to drown Tom's impudence." 
 
 "Glide on, my bark, the morning tide 
 Is gently flowing by thy side; 
 Around thy prow the waters bright, 
 In circling rounds of broken light, 
 Are glittering, as if ocean gave 
 Her countless gems unto the wave. 
 
 ^' That 's a pretty air , and I first heard it sung by a pretty woman ; 
 but that 's all I know of the song. She sang another — 
 
 **I 'd be a butterfly, born in a bower." 
 
 ** You'd be a butterfly," said the Domine , taking old Tom li- 
 terally , and looking at his person. 
 
 Young Tom roared, *'Yes, Sir, he 'd be a butterfly, and I 
 don't see why he shouldn't very soon. His legs are gone , and his 
 wings ar'n't come; so he 's a grub now, and that, you know, is 
 the next thing to it. What a funny old beggar it is , father — 
 ar'n't it?" 
 
 **Tom, Tom, go forward, Sir; we must shoot the bridge." 
 ** Shoot!" exclaimed the Domine ; shoot what?" 
 '* You ar'n't afraid of fire-arms, are ye. Sir?" inquired Tom. 
 *'Nay, I said not that I was afraid af fire-arms; but why 
 should you shoot?" » 
 
94 
 
 "We never could get on without it , Sir; we shall have plenty 
 of shooting, by and by. You don't know this river." 
 
 Indeed, I thought not of such doings ; or that there were other 
 dangers besides that of the deep waters." 
 
 ** Go forward , Tom , and don't be playing with your betters/* 
 cried old Tom. Never mind him, Sir, he 's only humbugging 
 you." 
 
 "Explain, Jacob. The language of both old Tom and young 
 Tom are to me as incomprehensible as would be that of the dog 
 Tommy." 
 
 " Or as your Latin is to them , Sir." 
 
 "True, Jacob, true. I have no right to complain; nay, I 
 do not complain, for I am amused, although at times much 
 puzzled." 
 
 We now shot Putney Bridge , and as a wherry passed us , old 
 Tom carolled out — 
 
 ••Did you ever hear tell of a jolly young \ratermanr' 
 
 "No, I never did," said the Domine, observing old Tom's eyes 
 directed toward him. Tom, amused by this naivet^ on the part 
 of the Domine , touched him by the sleeve , on the other side, and 
 commenced with his treble. 
 
 ••Did you ne'er hear a tale 
 Of a maid in the vale ? '* 
 
 "Not that I can recollect , my child ," replied the Domine. 
 
 "Then where have you been all your life?" 
 
 "My life has been employed, my lad, in teaching the young 
 idea how to shoot." 
 
 "So, you 're an old soldier after all, and afraid of fire-arm?. 
 Why don't you hold yourself up? I suppose it 's that enormous jib 
 of yours that brings you down by the head." 
 
 "Tom , Tom , I '11 cut you into pork pieces , if you go on that 
 gait. Go and get dinner under weigh , you scamp and leave the 
 gentleman alone. Here 's more wind coming. 
 
 •*A "wet sheet and a flowing sea 
 A wind that follows fast, 
 And fills the white and rustling sail, 
 And hen<^ the gallant mast. 
 
95 
 
 And bends the gallant Tnast, my boys, 
 
 While, like the eagle free, 
 Away the good ship flies , and leaves 
 
 Old England on the lee." 
 
 ''Jacob," said the Domine, *'I have heard by the mouth of 
 Rumour, with her hundred tongues , how careless and indifferent 
 are sailors unto danger ; but I never could have believed that such 
 lightness of heart could have been shown. Yon man, although cer- 
 tainly not in years, yet, what is he? — a remnant of a man resting 
 upon unnatural and ill-proportioned support. Yon lad, who is yet 
 but a child, appears as blythe and meiry as if he were in possession 
 of all this world can afford. I have an affection for that bold child, 
 and would fain teach him the rudiments, at least, of the Latin 
 tongue." 
 
 * ' I doubt if Tom would ever learn them , Sir. He has a will of 
 his own." 
 
 '*It grieveth me to hear thee say so , for he lacketh not talent, 
 but instruction ; and the Dux, he pleaseth me mightily — a second 
 Palinurus. Yet how that a man could venture to embark upon an 
 element, to struggle through the horrors of which must occasionally 
 demand the utmost exertion of every limb , with the want of the 
 two most necessary for his safety , is to me quite incomprehen- 
 sible." 
 
 '* He can keep his legs. Sir." 
 
 ''Nay, Jacob, how can he keep what are already gone? 
 Even thou speakest strangely upon the water. I see the dangers 
 that surjound us, Jacob, yet am I calm; I feel that I have not 
 lived a wicked life — 'Integer vitae, scelerisque purus,' 
 as Horace truly saith, may venture, even as I have done, upon the 
 broad expanse of water. What is it that the boy is providing for 
 us ? it hath an inviting smell. " 
 
 "Lobscouse, master," replied old Tom, " and not bad lining 
 either. " 
 
 " I recollect no such word — unde derivatur, friend?" 
 "What's that, master?" inquired old Tom. 
 "It's Latin for lobscouse, depend upon it, father," cried 
 Tom , who was stirring up the savoury mess with a large wooden 
 
96 
 
 spoon. He be a deadly lively old gentleman, with his dead 
 language. Dinner *s all ready. Are we to let go the anchor, or 
 pipe to dinner first?." 
 
 " We may as well anchor , boys. We have not a quarter of an 
 hour's more ebb , and the wind is heading us." 
 
 Tom and I went forward, brailed up the mainsail, cleared away 
 and let go the anchor. The lighter swung round rapidly to the 
 stream. The Domine , who had been in a fit of musing , with his 
 eyes cast upon the forests of masts which we had passed below 
 London Bridge , and which were now some way astern of us , of a 
 sudden exclaimed in a loud voice, "Parceprecor! Peri- 
 culosum estl' 
 
 The lighter swinging short round to her anchor, had surprised 
 the Domine with the rapid motion of the ponorama, and he thought 
 we had fallen in with one of the whirlpools mentioned by Tom. 
 "What has happened , good Dux? tell me cried the Domine to 
 old Tom, with alarm in his countenance. 
 
 ''Why, master. Til tell you after my own fashion," replied 
 old Tom, smiling; and then singing, as he held the Domine by 
 the button of his spenser — 
 
 "Now to her berth' the craft draws nigh, 
 
 With slackea'd sail, she feels the tide — 
 'Stand clear the cable!' is the cry — 
 'The anchor *s gone, we safely ride.' 
 
 '* And now, master, we'll bail out the lobscouse. Wesha'n't 
 weigh anchor again until to-morrow morning; the wind's right in 
 our teeth, and it will blow fresh, I'm sartain. Look how the 
 scud 's flying; so now we'll have a jolly time of it, and you shall 
 have your allowance of grog on board before you turn in." 
 
 ''I have before heard of that potation," replied the Domine, 
 sitting down on the coamings of the hatchway, ''and fain would 
 taste it. " 
 
97 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Is a chapter of tales in a double sense. — The Domine, from the natural 
 effects of his single-heartedness, begins to see double. — A new de- 
 finition of philosophy , with an episode on jealousy 
 
 We now took our seats on the deck , round the saucepan , for 
 we did not trouble ourselves with dishes , and the Domine ap- 
 peared to enjoy the lobscouse very much. In the course of half an 
 hour, all was over; that is to say, we had eaten as much as we 
 wished, and the Newfoundland dog , who , during our repast, lay 
 close by young Tom , flapping the deck with his tail , and snuffing 
 the savoury smell of the compound, had just licked all our plates 
 quite clean, and was now finishing with his head in the saucepan ; 
 while Tom was busy carrying the crockery into the cabin , and 
 bringing out the bottle and tin pannikins, ready for the promised 
 carouse. 
 
 There, now, master, there's a glass o* grog for you that 
 would float a marilnespike. See if that don't warm the cockles 
 of your old heart." 
 
 **Ay," added Tom, **and set all your muscles as taut as 
 weather backstays." 
 
 Master Tom, with your leave, I'll mix your grog for you 
 myself. Hand me back that bottle , you rascal." 
 
 "Just as you please, father," replied Tom, handing the bottle ; 
 ** but recollect, none of your water bewitched. Only help me 
 as you love me." 
 
 Old Tom mixed a pannikin of grog for Tom , and another for 
 himself. I hardly need say which was tne s t i f f e r of the two. 
 
 *'Well, father, I sappose you think the grog will run short. 
 To be sure, one bottle ar'n't too much 'mong four of us." 
 
 One bottle, you scamp ; there's another in the cup board." 
 
 '* Then you must see double already, father." 
 
 Old Tom , who was startled at this news , and who imagined 
 that Tom must have gained possession of the other bottle, jumped 
 up and made for the cupboard , to ascertain whether what Tom 
 asserted was correct. This was what Tom wished: he imme- 
 
 Jacnb Faithful, 7 
 
98 
 
 diately changed pannikins of grog with his father, and remained 
 quiet. 
 
 There is another bottle , Tom said his father, coming out 
 and taking his seat again. ''I knew there was. You young rascal, 
 you don't know how you frightened me;" and old Tom put the 
 pannikin to his lips. *' Drowned the miller, by heavens!" said 
 he ; what could I have been about?" ejaculated he, adding more 
 spirit to his mixture. 
 
 suppose, upon the strength of another bottle in the locker, 
 you are doubling the strength of your grog. Come, father," and 
 Tom held out his pannikin , do put a little drop of stuff in mine 
 — it's seven water grog ; and I'm not on the black list. " 
 
 *'No, no, Tom; your next shall be stronger. Well, master, 
 how do you like your liquor?" 
 
 *'Verily," replied the Domine, it is a pleasant and seducing 
 liquor. Lo and behold ! I am at the bottom of my tin utensil.'* 
 
 Stop till I fill it up again , old gentleman. I see you are one 
 of the right sort — you know what the song says — 
 
 "A plague on those musty old luhbera. 
 Who tell us to fast and to think, 
 > And patient fall in with life's rubbers. 
 With nothing but water to drink. 
 
 Water, indeed! the only use of water I know, is to mix your 
 grog with, and float vessels up and down the world. Why was the 
 sea made salt, but to prevent our drinking too much water? Water, 
 indeed ! 
 
 "A can oF good grog, had they swigg'd it, 
 •T would have set them for pleasure agog, 
 And in spite of the rules 
 Of the schools. 
 The old fools, 
 Would have all of them swigg'd it. 
 And swore there was nothing like grog." 
 
 **rm exactly of your opinion, father," said Tom, holding out 
 his empty pannikin. 
 
 "Always ready for two things, master Tom — grog and mis- 
 chief; but, however, you shall have one more dose." 
 
 * ' It hath, then , medicinal virtues ? " inquired the Domine. 
 
99 
 
 **Ay, that it has, master, more than all the quacking medi- 
 cines in the world. It cures grief and melancholy , and prevents 
 spirits from getting low." 
 
 ''I doubt that, father," cried Tom, holding up the bottle; 
 '*for the more grog we drink, the more the spirits become low." 
 
 Cluck, cluck, came from the thorax of the Domine. *'Ve- 
 rily, friend Tom, it appeareth, among other virtues , to sharpen 
 the wits. Proceed, friend Dux, in the medicinal virtues of grog." 
 
 *'Well, master, it cures love when it's not returned, and adds 
 to it when it is. I've heard say it will cure jealousy ; but that I've 
 my doubts of. Now I think on it, I will tell you a yarn about a 
 jealous match between a couple of fools. Jacob , ar'n't your pan- 
 nikin empty, my boy?" 
 
 Yes ," replied I , handing it up to be filled. It was empty, 
 for, not being very fond of it myself, Tom, with my permission, 
 had drunk it as well as his own. 
 
 ** There, Jacob, is a good dose for you — you ar'n't always 
 craving after it , like Tom." 
 
 He isn't troubled with low spirits , as I am , father." 
 
 '"How long has that been your complaint, Tom?" inquired I. 
 
 *'Ever since I heard how to cure it. Come, father, give us 
 the yarn." 
 
 '*Well, then, you must mind that an old shipmate o' mine, 
 Ben Leader, had a wife named Poll, a pretty sort of craft in her 
 way, neat in her rigging, swelling bows, taking sort of figure- 
 head, and devilish well-rounded in the counter; altogether, she 
 was a very fancy girl, and all the men were a'ter her. She'd a 
 roguish eye , and liked to be stared at, as most pretty women do, 
 because it flatters their vanities. Now, although she liked to be 
 noticed so far by the other chaps , yet Ben was the only one she 
 ever wished to be handled by — it was * Paws off, Pompey with 
 all the rest. Ben Leader was a good-looking, active , smart chap, 
 and could foot it in a reel, or take a bout at single -stick with the 
 very best o' them; and she was mortal fond of him, and mortal 
 jealous if he talked to any other woman , for the women liked Ben 
 as much as the men liked she. Well, as they returned love for 
 love , so did they return jealousy for jealousy ; and the lads and 
 
 7* 
 
100 
 
 lasses ; seeing that, had a pleasure in making them come to a 
 misunderstanding. So every day it became worse and worse 
 between them. Now I always says that it's a stupid thing to be 
 jealous, 'cause if there be cause, there be no cause for Jove ; 
 and if there be no cause, there be no cause for jealousy." 
 
 You're like a row in a rookery , father — nothing but caws," 
 interrupted Tom. 
 
 *'WeIl, I suppose I am; but that's what I call chop logic — 
 ar'n't it, master?" 
 
 *'It was a syllogism," replied the Domine, taking the pannikin 
 from his mouth. 
 
 I don't know what that is , nor do I want to know," replied 
 old Tom; **so I '11 just go on with' my'story. Well, at last they 
 came to downright fighting. 'Ben licks Poll 'cause she talked and 
 laughed with other men , and Poll cries and whines all day 'cause 
 he won't sit on her knee, instead of going on board and 'tending 
 to his duty. Well one night, a'ter work was over, Ben goes on 
 shore to the house where he and Poll used to sleep ; and when he 
 sees the girl in the bar, he says , * Where is Poll?' Now the girl 
 at the bar was a fresh-comer, and answers , ' What girl?' So Ben 
 describes her, and the bar- girl answers, *She be just gone to 
 bed, with her husband, I suppose;' for, you see, there was a 
 woman like her who had gone up to her bed , sure enough. When 
 Ben heard that , he gives his trowsers one hitch , and calls for a 
 quartern, drinks it off with a sigh, and leaves the house, belie- 
 ving it all to be true. A'ter Ben was gone , Poll makes her appear- 
 ance, and when she finds Ben wasn't in the tap, says, * Young 
 woman, did a man go up stairs just now?' ' Yes replied the bar- 
 girl, 'with his wife, I suppose; they be turned in this quarter of 
 an hour.* When Poll hears this , she almost turned mad with 
 rage , and then as white as a sheet , and then she burst into tears 
 and runs out of the house, crying out, *Poor misfortunate creature 
 that! am!' knocking every thing down undersized, and running 
 into the arms of every man who came athwart her hawse." 
 
 I understood him but just now, that she was running on foot, 
 yet doth he talk about her h o rs e. Expound , Jacob." 
 '* It was a nautical figure of speech , Sir." 
 
101 
 
 Exactly/' rejoined Tom; *'it meant her figure-head, old 
 gentleman; but my yarn won't cut a figure, if I'm brought up all 
 standing in this way. Suppose, master, you hear the story first, 
 and understand it afterwards." 
 
 ** I will endeavour to comprehend by the context," replied the 
 Domine. 
 
 That is , I suppose* that you '11 allow me to stick to my text. 
 Well, then, here's coil away again. Ben, you see, what with 
 his jealousy , and what with a whole quartern at a draught, became 
 somehow nohow, and he w^alked down to the jetty with the in- 
 tention of getting rid of himself , and his wife, and all his troubles, 
 by giving his soul back to his Creator, and his body to the fishes.'* 
 
 **Bad philosophy," quoth the Domine. 
 
 *' I agree with you, master," replied old Tom. 
 
 '*Pray what sort of a thing is philosophy?" inquired Tom. 
 Philosophy," replied old Tom , *' is either hanging, drown- 
 ing, shooting yourself, or, in short, getting out of the world 
 without help." 
 
 "Nay," replied the Domine , *'thatis felo de se." 
 
 **Well, I pronounce it quicker than you, master; but it s one 
 and the same thing: but to go on. While Ben was standing on 
 the jetty, thinking whether he should take one more quid of backey 
 afore he dived , who should come down but Poll , with her hair all 
 adrift, streaming and coach-whipping aslarn of her , with the same 
 intention as Ben — to commit philo-zoffy. Ben, who was 
 standing at the edge of the jetty , his eyes fixed upon the water , as 
 it eddyed among the piles, looking as dismal as if he had swal- 
 lowed a hearse and six, with the funeral feathers hanging out of 
 his mouth — " 
 
 '* A bold comparison ," murmured the Domine. 
 
 ''Never sees her; and she was so busy with herself, that, 
 although close to him , she never sees he — always remembering 
 that the night was dark. So Poll turned her eyes up , for all the 
 world like a dying jackdaw." 
 
 VTell me, friend Dux," interrupted the Domine, **doth a 
 jackdaw die in any peculiar way?" 
 
 **Yes," replied young Tom ; he always dies black, master." 
 
102 
 
 *'Then dothhe die asheliveth. (Cluck, cluck.) Proceed, 
 good Dux." 
 
 And don't you break the thread of my yarn any more, master, 
 if you wish to hear the end on it. So Poll begins to blubber about 
 Ben. * 0 Ben, Ben,' cried she ; * cruel, cruel man ; for to come — 
 for to go ; for to go — for to come ! " 
 " 'Who's there?' shouted Ben. 
 
 * For to come — for to go ,' cried Poll. 
 Ship ahoy ! ' hailed Ben, again. 
 
 '"For to go — for to come,' blubbered Poll; and then she 
 couldn't bring out any thing more for sobbing. With that, Ben, 
 who thought he knew the voice, walks up to her, and says, *Be 
 that you, Poll?' 
 
 ***Be that you, Ben?' replied Poll, taking her hands from 
 her face , and looking at him. 
 
 'I thoughtyou were inbed with — with — oh! Poll!' saidBeu. 
 
 * And I thought you were in bed with — oh ! Ben ! ' replied 
 
 Poll. 
 
 But I wasn't, Poll.* 
 ' Nor more warn't I, Ben.* 
 " * And what brought you here , Poll? * 
 
 I wanted for to die, Ben. And what brought you here Ben?' 
 I didn't want for to live. Poll, when I thought you false.' 
 Then Polly might have answered in the words of the old song, 
 master; but her poor heart was too full, I suppose." And 
 Tom sang, 
 
 "Yonr Polly has never been false, she declares, 
 Since last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs. 
 
 "Howsomever, in the next minute they were both hugging and 
 kissing, sobbing, shivering and shaking in each other's arms; 
 and as soon as they had settled themselves a little, back they went, 
 arm in arm , to the house , had a good stiff glass to prevent their 
 taking the rheumatism , went to bed , and were cured of the 
 jealousy ever afterwards — which, in my opinion, was a much 
 better philo-zoffy than the one they had both been bound on. 
 There , I 've wound it all off at last , master , and now we '11 fill up 
 our pannikins." 
 
103 
 
 Before I consent, friend Dux, pr'ythee inform me how much 
 of this pleasant liquor may be taken without inebriating , vulgo, 
 getting tipsy." 
 
 ^'Father can drink enough to float a jolly-boat, master," 
 replied Tom ; ''so you needn't fear. I *11 drink pan for pan with 
 you, all night long." 
 
 *' Indeed you won't, mister Tom ," replied the father. 
 
 ** But I will, master." 
 
 I perceived that the liquor had already had some effect upon my 
 worthy pedagogue , and was not willing that he should be per- 
 suaded into excess. I therefore pulled him by the coat as a hint; 
 but he was again deep in thought , and he did not heed me. Tired 
 of sitting so long, I got up, and walked forward to look at the cable. 
 
 *' Strange," muttered the Domine, ** that Jacob should thus 
 pull me by the garment. What could he mean? " 
 
 " Did he pull you , Sir?" inquired Tom. 
 
 *' Yea , many times ; and then he walked away." 
 It appears that you have been pulled too much. Sir," replied 
 Tom , dexterously appearing to pick up the tail of his coat , which 
 had been torn off by the dog , and handing it to him. 
 
 *'Eheu! Jacobe — fili dilectissime — quid fe- 
 ci sti?" cried the Domine, holding up the fragment of his coat 
 with a look of despair. 
 
 *' 'Along pull, a strong pull, and a pull all together,*" sang 
 out old Tom: and then looking at Tom, "Now, ar'n't you a 
 pretty rascal, master Tom?" 
 
 *'It is done," exclaimed the Domine, with a sigh, putting 
 the fragment into the remaining pocket; "and it cannot be un- 
 done." 
 
 "Now, I think it is undone, and can be done, master," 
 replied Tom. "A needle and thread will soon joiii the pieces of 
 your old coat again — in holy matrimony, I may safely say — " 
 
 "True. (Cluck, cluck.) My housekeeper will restore 
 it; yet will she be wroth. 'Fieminae curaeque iraeque;' 
 but let us think no more about it," cried the Domine, drinking 
 deeply from his pannikin , and each minute verging fast to in- 
 toxication. "Nunc est bibendum. nunc pede libero 
 
104 
 
 pulsanda tcilus. I feel as if I were lifted up , and could dance, 
 yea, and could exalt my voice and sing." 
 
 Could you , my jolly old master? then we '11 both dance and 
 
 sing. 
 
 Come , let us dance and sing, 
 While all Barbadoeg bells shall ring, 
 Mars scrapes the fiddle string 
 While Venus plays the lute. 
 Hymen gay, trips away, 
 Jocund at the \i'edding-day. 
 
 **Now for chorus. 
 
 ''Come, let us dance and sing.'* 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 The "fun grows fast and furious." — The pedagogue does not scan cor- 
 rectly, and his feet become very unequal. — An allegorical compliment 
 almost worked up into a literal quarrel. — At length, the mighty are 
 laid low, and the Domine hurts his nose. 
 
 I HEARD Tom's treble, and a croaking noise, which I recog- 
 nised to proceed from the Domine, who had joined the chorus; 
 and I went aft, il possible , to prevent further excess ; but I found 
 that the grog had mounted into the Domine's head , and all my 
 hints were disregarded. Tom was despatched for the other bottle, 
 and the Domine's pannikin was repleniihed, old Tom roaring 
 out — 
 
 •* Come , sling the flowing bowl j 
 
 Fond hopes arise, 
 
 The girls we prize. 
 Shall bless each jovial soui; 
 
 The can, boys, bring, 
 
 We '11 dance and siHg, 
 While foaming billows roll. 
 
 **Now for the chorus again. 
 
 "Come, sling the flowing bowl, «&c. 
 Jacob, why don't you join?" The chorus was given by the 
 whole of us. Domine's voice even louder, though not quite so 
 musical as old Tom's. 
 
 **Evoe'" cried the Domine; **evoe! cantemus." 
 
 "Amo, amas — I loved a lass, 
 For she was tall and slender j 
 
105 
 
 Amas, a mat — she iaid me fiat, 
 Though of the feminine gender. 
 
 Truly do I forget the songs of my youth, and of my hilarious 
 days ; yet doth the potent spirit work upon me like the god in the 
 Cumean sybil ; and I soon shall prophesy that which shall come 
 to pass/' 
 
 So can I /* said Tom, giving me a nudge , and laughing. 
 **Do thine office of Ganymede, and fill up my pannikin; 
 put not in too much of the element. Once more exalt thy voice, 
 good Dux." 
 
 "Always ready, master," cried Tom, who sang out again 
 in praise of his favourite liquor. 
 
 *' Smiling grog is the sailor's Lest hope, his sheet anchor, 
 His compass, hiscahle, his log, 
 That gives him a heart, which life's cares cannot canker. 
 Though dangers around him. 
 Unite to confound him. 
 He hraves them, and tips off his grog. 
 
 'T is grog, only grog 
 Is his rudder, his compass, his cahle, bis log. 
 The sailor's sheet anchor is grog." 
 
 ** Verily, thou art an Apollo — or rather, referring to thy want 
 of legs, half an Apollo — that is, a demi-god. (Cluck, 
 cluck.) Sweet is thy lyre , friendDux." 
 
 "Fair words, master; I 'm no liar," cried Tom. "Clapa 
 stopper on your tongue ; or you '11 get into disgrace." 
 
 "Ubi lapsus quid feci," exclaimed the Domine; "1 
 spoke of thy musical tongue ; and fu,rthermore , I spoke alia — 
 gori — cal — ly." 
 
 "I know a man lies with his tongue, as well as you do, old 
 chap; but as for telling a hell of a (something) lie, as you 
 states, I say, I never did," rejoined old Tom, who was getting 
 cross in his cups. 
 
 I now interfered , as there was every appearance of a fray ; 
 and in spite of young Tom, who wished, as he termed it, to 
 kick up a shindy, prevailed upon them to make friends, 
 which they did, sJiaking hands for nearly five minutes. When 
 this was ended , I again entreated the Domine not to drink any 
 more, but to go to bed. 
 
106 
 
 Amice Jacobe," replied the Domine; **the liquor hath 
 mounted into thy brain , and thou wouldst rebuke thy master and 
 preceptor. Betake thee to thy couch, and sleep off the effects of 
 thy drink. Verily, Jacob, thouart plenus Veteris Bacchi; 
 or, in plain English, thou art drunk. Canst thou conjugate, 
 Jacob? I fear not. Canst thou decline, Jacob? I. fear not. 
 Canst thou scan, Jacob? I fear not. Nay, Jacob, methinks, 
 that thou art unsteady in thy gait , and not over clear in thy vision. 
 Canst thou hear, Jacob? if so, I will give thee an oration against 
 inebriety, with which thou mayst down on thy pillow. Wilt thou 
 have it in Latin or in Greek? " 
 
 *'0 d — n your Greek and Latin," cried old Tom: **keep 
 that for to-morrow. Sing us a song, my old hearty; ov shall I 
 sing you one? Here goes. 
 
 "For Avhile the grog goes round, 
 All sense of danger 's drown'd> 
 We despise it to a man; 
 We sing a little — " 
 
 *^Sing a little," bawled the Domine. 
 
 "And laugh a little — " 
 
 Laugh a little ," chorused young Tom. 
 
 And vork a little — " 
 
 Work a little ," cried the Domine. 
 
 " And swear a little — " 
 
 Swear not a little," echoed Tom. 
 
 "And fiddle a little — " 
 
 •* Fiddle a little," hiccuped the Domine. 
 
 "And foot it a little — 
 
 Foot it a little ," repeated Tom. 
 
 "And swig the flowing can, 
 And fiddle a little, 
 And foot it a little, 
 And swig the flowing can — ** 
 
 roared old Tom , emptying his pannikin. 
 
 "And swig the flowing can — " 
 
 followed the Domine , tossing off his. 
 
 "And swig the flowing can," 
 
 cried young Tom , turning up his pannikin empty. 
 
107 
 
 '•Hurrah! that's what I calls glorious. Let's have it over 
 again, and then we'll have another dose. Come, now, ail to- 
 gether." Again was the song repeated ; and when they came to 
 **foot it a little," old Tom jumped on his stumps, seizing hold 
 of the Domine, who immediately rose, and the three danced 
 round and round for a minute or two, singing the song and chorus, 
 till old Tom, who was very far gone, tripped against the coamings 
 of the hatchway, pitching his head into the Domine's stomach, 
 who fell backwards, clinging to young Tom's hand; so that they 
 all rolled on the deck together — my worthy preceptor underneath 
 the other two. 
 
 Foot it rather too much that time, father," said young 
 Tom, getting up the first, and laughing. *'Come, Jacob, let's 
 put father on his pins again; he can't right without a purchase." 
 With some difficulty we succeeded. As soon as he was on his 
 legs again, old Tom put a hand upon each of our shoulders , and 
 commenced with a drunken leer — 
 
 "What though his timbers they are gone, 
 And he 's a slave to tipple, 
 No better sailor ere was born, 
 Than Tom , the jovial cripple. 
 
 **Thanky, my boys, thanky; now rouse up the old gentleman. 
 I suspect we knocked the wind out of him. Hollo, there, are 
 you hard and fast?" 
 
 ''The bricks are hard, and verily my senses are fast de- 
 paiting," quoth the Domiue, rousing himself, and sitting up, 
 staring around him. 
 
 ''Senses going, do you say, master?" cried old Tom. 
 "Don't throw them overboard till we have made a finish. One 
 more pannikin apiece, one more song, and then to bed. Tom, 
 Where's the bottle?" 
 
 "Drink no more. Sir, I beg; you '11 be ill to-morrow," said 
 I to the Domine. 
 
 "Deprome quadrimum," hiccuped the Domine. "Carpe 
 diem — quam minimum — credula postero — Sing, 
 friend Dux — Quem virum — sumes celebrare — musis 
 amicus — Where 's my pattypan? — We are not Thracians — 
 
108 
 
 Natis in usum — Isetitise scyphis pugnare — (hiccup) 
 — Thracum est — therefore we — will not fight — but we 
 will drink — recepto dulce mihi furere est amico. — 
 Jacob , thou art drunk — sing, friend Dux, — or shall I sing? — 
 
 "Propria quae maribus had a little dog, 
 Q,uae genus -was iiis name — 
 
 My memory faileth me — what was the tune? " 
 
 "That tune was the one the old cow died of, I 'm sure," 
 replied Tom. ''Come, old Nosey, strike up again." 
 
 "Nosey, from nasus — truly it is a fair epithet; and it 
 remiudeth me that my nose — suffered in the fall which J received 
 just now. Yet I cannot sing — having no words — " 
 
 "Nor tune either, master," replied old Tom : "so here goes 
 for you — 
 
 *' Young Susan had lovers so many, that she 
 
 Hardly knew upon which to decide; 
 They all spoke sincerely, and promised to be 
 
 All worthy of such a sweet bride. 
 In the morning she'd gossip with AVilliam, and then 
 
 The noon would }»e spent with young Harry, 
 The evening with Tom ; so , amongst all the men. 
 
 She never could tell which to marry, 
 Heigho! I am afraid 
 
 Too many lovers will puzzle a maid." 
 
 "It pleaseth me — it ringeth in mine ears — yea, most 
 pleasantly. Proceed, the girl was as the Pyrrha of Horace — 
 
 " Q^uis multa gracilis — te puer in rosa — 
 Perfusus liquidis urget odoribus. 
 Grato , Pyrrha — sub antro ? " 
 
 "That *s all high Dutch to me , master; but I '11 go on if I can. 
 My memory box be a little out of order. Let me see — oh ! 
 
 *'Now William grew jealous , and so went away; 
 
 Harry got tired of wooing; 
 And Tom having teased her to fix on the day. 
 
 Received but a frown for so doing; 
 So, 'mongst all her lovers, quite left in the lurch. 
 
 She pined every night on her pillow; 
 And meeting one day a pair going to church, 
 
 Turn'd away, and died under a willow. 
 Heigho! 1 am afraid 
 
 Too many lovers will puzzle a maid. 
 
109 
 
 **Now, then, old gentleman, tip off your grog. You 've got 
 your allowance , as 1 promised you." 
 
 **Come, master, you 're a cup too low," said Tom, who, . 
 although in high spirits , was not at all intoxicated; indeed, as I 
 afterwards found, he could carry more than his father. *'Come, 
 shall I give you a song ? " 
 
 That's right, Tom; a volunteer's worth two pressed men. 
 Open your mouth wide , an' let your whistle fly away with the gale. 
 You whistles in tune , at all events." 
 
 Tom then struck up , the Domine see-sawing as he sat , and 
 getting very sleepy — 
 
 "Luck in life, or good or bad, 
 
 Ne'er could make me melancholy; 
 Seldom rich, yet never sad, 
 
 Sometimes poor, yet always jolly. 
 Fortune 's in my scale , that 's poz. 
 
 Of mischance put more than half ini 
 Yet I don't know how it was, 
 
 I could never cry for laughing — 
 Ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 I could never cry for laughing. 
 
 * ' Now for chorus , father. 
 
 "Ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha! 
 I could never cry for laughing. 
 
 "That 's all I know ; and that 's enough , for it won't wake up 
 the old gentleman." 
 
 But it did. ** Ha, ha, ha — ha, ha, ha ! I could never die for 
 laughing ," bawled out the Domine , feeling for his pannikin ; but 
 this was his last effort. He stared round him. Verily , verily, 
 we are in a whirlpool — how every thing turneth round and round ! 
 Who cares ? Am not I an ancient mariner — *Quividit mare 
 turgidum — et infames scopulos.' Friend Dux, listen to 
 me — favete Unguis." 
 
 *'Well," hiccuped old Tom , **soIwill — butspeak — plain 
 English — as I — do." 
 
 That ril be hanged if he does," said Tom to me. •* In half 
 an hour more , I shall understand old Nosey's Latin just as well as 
 his — plain English , as he calls it." 
 
 I will discourse in any language — that is — in any tongue — 
 
no 
 
 be it in the Greek or the Latin — nay, even — (hiccups) — friend 
 Dux — hast thou not partaken too freely — of — dear me ! Quo 
 me, Bacche, rapis tui — plenum — truly I shall be tipsy 
 
 — and will but finish my pattypan — dulce periculum est — 
 Jacob — can there be two Jacobs — and two old Toms — nay — 
 mirabile dictu — there are two young Toms, and two dog 
 Tommies — each with — two tails. Bacche, parce — precor 
 
 — precor — Jacob , where art thou? — Ego sum — tu es — 
 thou art — sumus, we are — where ami? Procumbit huml 
 bos — for Bos — read Dobbs — amo, am as — I loved a lass. 
 Tityre, tu patulae sub teg — mine — nay — I quote wrong 
 
 — then must I be — I do believe that — I'm drunk." 
 
 *' And I'm cock sure of it,'* cried Tom laughing, as the Domine 
 fell back in a state of insensibility. 
 
 *' And I 'm cock sure said old Tom, rolling himself along the 
 deck to the cabin hatch — **that I 've as much — as I can stagger 
 
 — under, at all events — so I '11 sing myself to sleep — 'cause why 
 
 — I 'm happy. Jacob — mind you keep all the watches to-night — 
 and Tom may keep the rest." Old Tom then sat up , leaning his 
 back against the cabin hatch , and commenced one of those doleful 
 ditties which are sometimes heard on the forecastle of a man-of- 
 war ; he had one or two of these songs that he always reserved for 
 such occasions. While Tom and I dragged the Domine to bed, old 
 lorn slowly drawled out his ditty — 
 
 "0! we sailed to Virgi-ni-a, and thence to Fy-al, 
 Where vre water'd our shipping, and so then weigh-ed all, 
 Full in view, on the seas — boys — seven sail we did — es-py, 
 0! we man- nted our cap stern, and weighed spee-di-ly. 
 
 *'That *s right, my boys, haul and hold — Stow the old Dictionary 
 away — for he can't command the parts of speech. 
 
 • *' The very next morning — the engagement proved — hot, 
 And brave Admiral Benbow receiv-ed a chain — shot, 
 0 when he was wounded, to his merry men — he — did — say, 
 Take me up in your arms, boj's, and car-ry me a-way. 
 
 **Now, boys, come and help me — Tom — none of your foolery 
 
 — for your poor old father is — drunk — " 
 
 We assisted old Tom into the other bed-place in the cabin. 
 
Ill 
 
 Thanky , lads — one little bit more , and then I'm done — as the 
 auctioneer says — going , going — 
 
 " 0 the guns they did rattle , and the bul-lets — did — flj, 
 When brave Benbow — for help loud — did cry, 
 Carry me down to the cock-pit — there is ease for my smarts, 
 If my merry men should see me — 't will sure — break — their — hearts 
 
 Going — old swan-hopper — as I am — going — gone." 
 Tom and I were left on the deck. 
 
 '*Now Jacob , if you've a mind to turn in. I 'm not sleepy — 
 you shall keep the morning watch." 
 
 "No, Tom, you'd better sleep first. I '11 call you at four o'clock. 
 We can't weigh till tide serves ; and I shall have plenty of sleep be- 
 fore that." 
 
 Tom went to bed , and I walked the deck till the morning, 
 thinking over the events of the day, and wondering what the Do- 
 mine would say when he came to his senses. At four o'clock , as 
 agreed , I roused Tom out and turned into his bed , and was soon 
 as fast asleep as old Tom and theDomine, whose responsive snores 
 had rung in my ears during the whole time that I had >valked the 
 deck. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Cold water and repentance. — The two Toms almost moral, and myself 
 full of wise reflections. — The chapter, he'inc; full of grave saws, is 
 luckily very short; and though a very sensible one, 1 would not ad- 
 vise it to be skipped. 
 
 About half-past eight the next morning, I was called up by 
 Tom to assist in getting the lighter under weigh. When I came on 
 deck I found old Tom as fresh as if he had not drunk a drop the 
 night before , very busily stumping about the windlass , with which 
 we hove up first the anchor, and then the mast, *'Well, Jacob, 
 my boy , had sleep enough? Not too much , I dare say ; but a bout 
 like last night don't come often , Jacob — only once in a way; now 
 and then I do believe it 's good for my health. It 's a great comfort 
 tome, my lad, to have you on board with, me , because, as you 
 never drinks , I may now indulge a little oftener. As for Tom, 
 can't trust him — too much like his father — had nobody to trust 
 
112 
 
 to for the look-out , except the dog Tommy , till you came with us. 
 I can trust Tommy as far as keeping off the .river sharks ; he 11 
 never let them take a rope-yarn off the deck , night or day ; but a 
 dog 's but a dog after all. Now we 're brought to ; so clap on , my 
 boy , and let 's heave up with a will." 
 
 ** How 's the old gentleman , father?*' said Tom, as we paused 
 a moment from our labour at the windlass. 
 
 Oh ! he 's got a good deal more to sleep off yet. There he lies, 
 flat on his back , blowing as hard as a grampus. Better leave him 
 as long as we can. We '11 rouse him as soon as we turn the 
 Greenwich reach. Tom, didn't you think his nose loomed de- 
 vilish large yesterday?" 
 
 *' Never seed such a devil of a cutwater in my life , father." 
 
 **Well, then, you '11 see a larger when he gets up, for it's 
 swelled bigger than the brandy bottle. Heave and haul! Now 
 bring to the fall , and up with the mast , boys , while I goes aft 
 and takes the helm." 
 
 Old Tom went aft. During the night the wind had veered to 
 the north , and the frost had set in sharp , the rime covered the 
 deck of the barge , and here and there floating ice was to be seen 
 coming down with the tide. The banks of the river and fields ad- 
 jacent were white with hoar frost, and would have presented but a 
 cheerless aspect, had not the sun shone out clear and bright. 
 Tom went aft to light the fire , while I coiled away and made all 
 snug forward. Old Tom as usual carolled forth — 
 
 " Oh! for a soft and gentle wind, 
 I heard a fair one cry, 
 But give to me the roaring breeze, 
 And white waves beating high, 
 ' And white waves beating high, my boys, 
 
 The good ship tight and free, 
 The world of waters is our own, 
 And merry men are we. 
 
 nice morning this for cooling a hot head, that's sartain. 
 Tommy, you rascal, you 're like a court lady, with her velvet 
 gownd, covered all over with diamonds," continued old Tom, 
 looking at the Newfoundland dog, whose glossy black hair was be- 
 sprinkled with little icicles, which glittered in the sun. **You 
 
113 
 
 and Jacob were the only sensible ones of the party last night , for 
 you both were sober." 
 
 ** So was I, father. I was as sober as a judge," observed Tom, 
 who was blowing up the fire. 
 
 **May be, Tom, as a judge a'ter dinner; but a judge on the 
 bench be one thing, and a judge over a bottle be another, and not 
 bad judges in that way either. At all events , if you warn't sewed 
 up, it wasn't your fault." 
 
 * ' And I suppose ," replied Tom , it was only your misfortune 
 that you were." 
 
 No , I don't say that ; but still, when I look at the dog, who 's 
 but a beast by nature , and thinks of myself who wasn't meant to 
 be a beast , why then I blushes , that 's all." 
 
 *' Jacob, look at father — now, does he blush? " cried Tom. 
 
 ** I can't say that I perceive it ," replied I , smiling. 
 
 *'WeIl, then, if I don't, it 's the fault of my having no legs. I'm 
 sure when they were knocked off, I lost half the blood in my body, 
 and that 's the reason, I suppose. At all events, I meant to blush, 
 so we '11 take the will for the deed." 
 
 *'But do you mean to keep sober in future, father?" said 
 Tom. 
 
 *' Never do you mind that — mind your own business, Mr. 
 Tom. At all events , I sha'n't get tipsy till next time , and that 's 
 all I can say with safety, 'cause d'ye see I knows my failing. Jacob, 
 did you ever see that old gentleman sail too close to the wind be- 
 fore?" 
 
 *' I never did — I do not think that he was ever tipsy before last 
 night." 
 
 **Then I pities him — his headache, and his repentance. More- 
 over, there be his nose and the swallow tail of his coat to make him 
 unhappy. We shall be down abreast of the Hospital in half an 
 hour. Suppose you go and give him a shake, Jacob. Not you, 
 Tom, I won't trust you — you '11 be doing him a mischief; you 
 hav'n't got no fellow feeling , not even for dumb brutes." 
 
 "I '11 thank you not to take away my character that way , fa- 
 ther," replied Tom . * ' Didn't I put you to bed last night when you 
 were speechless?" 
 
 Jacob Faithful 8 
 
il4 
 
 *' Suppose you did — what then? " 
 
 ''Why, then, I had a feeling for a dumb brute. I only say that, 
 father, for the joke of it, you know," continued Tom, going up to 
 his father and patting his rough cheek. 
 
 "I know that, my boy ; you never were unkind, that 's sartain ; 
 but you must have your joke — 
 
 "Merry thoughts are link'd with laughter, 
 Why should we bury them, 
 Sighs and tears may come hereafter. 
 
 No need to hurry them : 
 They who through a spying-glass, 
 View the minutes as they pass. 
 Make the sun a gloomy mass, 
 
 But the fault's their own, Tom/* 
 
 In the meantime I was vainly attempting to rouse the Domine. 
 After many fruitless attempts, I put a large quantity of snuff on his 
 upper lip , and then blew it up his nose. But, merciful powers ! 
 what a nose it had become , larger than the largest pear that I ever 
 saw in my Hfe. The whole weight of old Tom had fallen on it, and 
 instead of being crushed by the blow, it appeared as if, on the con- 
 trary, it had swelled up, indignant at the injury and affront which it 
 had received. The skin was as tight as the parchment of a drum, 
 and shining as if it had been oiled , while the colour was a bright 
 purple. Verily , it was the Domine's nose in a rage. 
 
 The snuff had the effect of partially awakening him from his 
 lethargy. Six o'clock — did you say, Mrs. Bately? Are the boys 
 washed — and in the school-room? I will rise speedily — yet I am 
 overcome with much heaviness. Delapsus somnus ab — " 
 and the Domine snored again. I renewed my attempts, and 
 gradually succeeded. The Domine opened his eyes , stared at the 
 deck and carlines above him , then at the cupboard by his side ; 
 lastly, he looked at and recognised me. *'Eheu, Jacobe! — 
 where am I ? And what is that which presses upon my brain ? 
 What is it so loadeth my cerebellum , even as if it were lead? My 
 memory — where is it? Let me recall my scattered senses." Here 
 the Domine was silent for some time. **Ah me ! yea , and venly, 
 I do recollect — with pain of head and more pain of heart — that 
 which I would fain forget , which is , that I did forget myself ; and 
 
115 
 
 indeed have forgotten all that passed the latter portion of the night. 
 Friend Dux hath pioved no friend , but hath led me into the wrong 
 path; and as for the potation called Grog — Eheu, Jacobe! 
 how have I fallen — fallen in my own opinion — fallen in thine — 
 how can I look thee in the face ! O Jacob ! what must thou think of 
 him who hath hitherto been thy preceptor and thy guide ! " Here 
 the Domine fell back on the pillow, and turned away his head. 
 
 *' It was not your fault, Sir," replied I, to comfort him ; "you 
 were not aware of what you were drinking — you did not know that 
 the liquor was so strong. Old Tom deceived you." 
 
 *'Nay, Jacob, I cannot lay that flattering unction to my wounded 
 heart. I ought to have known, nay, now I recall to mind, that thou 
 wouldst have warned me — even to the pulling off of the tail of my 
 coat — yet I heeded thee not, and I am humbled — even I, the 
 master over seventy boys ! " 
 
 *'Nay, Sir, it was not I who pulled off the tail of your coat, it 
 was the dog." 
 
 ** Jacob, I have heard of the wonderful sagacity of the canine 
 species, yet could not I ever have believed that a dumb brute would 
 have perceived my folly, and warned me from intoxication. Mi- 
 rabile dictu! Tell me, Jacob, thou who hast profited by these 
 lessons which thy master could give — although he could not follow 
 up his precept by example — tell me, what did take place? Let me 
 know the full extent of my backsliding." 
 
 You fell fast asleep , Sir, and we put you to bed." 
 
 * * Who did me that office , Jacob ? " 
 Young Tom and I, Sir; as far old Tom, he was not in a 
 state to help anybody." 
 
 " I am hui?fibled , Jacob." 
 
 ** Nonsense, old gentleman ; why make a fuss about nothing? " 
 said old Tom , who , overhearing our conversation , came into the 
 cabin. You had a drop too much , that *s all , and what o' that? 
 It *s a poor heart that never rejoiceth. Rouse a bit, wash your face 
 with cold Thames-water, and in half an hour you '11 be as fresh as a 
 daisy." 
 
 *' My head acheth ! " exclaimed the Domine » even as if there 
 
 8* 
 
116 
 
 were a ball of lead rolling from one temple to the other; but my 
 punishment is just." 
 
 That is the punishment of making too free with the bottle, for 
 sartain ; but if it is an offence, then it carries its own punishment, 
 and th^it's quite sufficient. Every man knows that when the heart's 
 over light at night, that the head *s over heavy in the morning. I 
 have known and proved it a thousand times. Well, what then? 
 I puts the good against the bad , and I takes my punishment like a 
 man." 
 
 ** Friend Dux, for so I will still call thee, thou lookest not at the 
 offence in a moral point of vision." 
 
 **What's moral?" replied old Tom. 
 
 ** I would point out that intoxication is sinful." 
 Intoxication sinful! I suppose that means that it 's a sin to 
 get drunk. Now, master, it 's my opinion that as God Almighty 
 has given us good liquor, it was for no other purpose than to drink 
 it; and therefore it would be ungrateful to him, and a sin. not to 
 get drunk, that is, with discretion." 
 
 **How canst thou reconcile getting drunk, with discretion, 
 good Dux?" 
 
 **I mean, master, when there's work to be done, the work 
 should be done ; but when there 's plenty of time , and every thing 
 is safe, and all ready for a start th6 next morning, I can see no 
 possible objection to a jollification. Come, master, rouse out; the 
 lighter 's abreast of the Hospital almost by this time , and we must 
 put you on shore." 
 
 The Domiue, whose clothes were all on, turned out of his bed- 
 place, and went with us on deck. Young Tom, who was at the 
 helm , as soon as we made our appearance , wished him a good 
 morning very respectfully. Indeed , I always observed that Tom, 
 with all his impudence and waggery, had a great deal of considera- 
 tion and kindness. He had overheard the Domine's conversation 
 with me, and would not further wound his feelings with a jest. Old 
 Tom resumed his place at the helm, while his son prepared the 
 breakfast, and I drew a bucket of water for the Domine to wash his 
 face and hands. Of his nose not a word was said ; and the Domine 
 made no remarks to me on the subject, although I am persuaded it 
 
117 
 
 must have been very painful , from the comfort he appeared to de- 
 rive in bathing it with the freezing water. A bowl of tea was a great 
 solace to him , and he had hardly finished it when the lighter was 
 abreast of the Hospital stairs. Tom jumped into the boat and 
 hauled it alongside. I took the other oar, and the Domine , sha- 
 king hands with old Tom , said, "Thou didst mean kindly, and 
 therefore I wish thee a kind farewell , good Dux." 
 
 *'Godbe with you, master," replied old Tom ; shall we call 
 for you as we come back? " 
 
 **Nay, nay," replied the Domine, '*the travelling by land is 
 more expensive , but less dangerous. I thank thee for thy songs, 
 and — for all thy kindness , good Dux. Are my paraphernalia in 
 the boat, Jacob?" 
 
 I replied in the affirmative. The Domine stepped in , and we 
 pulled him on shore. He landed, took his bundle and umbrella 
 under his arm , shook hands with Tom and then with me , without 
 speaking, and I perceived the tears start in his eyes as he turned 
 and walked away. 
 
 Well, now," said Tom , looking after the Domine , **IwishI 
 had been drunk instead of he. He does so take it to heart, poor 
 old gentleman ! " 
 
 **He has lost his self-esteem , Tom," replied I. **It should be 
 a warning to you. Come , get your oar to pass." 
 
 '* Well , some people be fashioned one way and some another. 
 I 've been tipsy more than once , and I never lost any thing but my 
 reason , and that came back as soon as the grog left my head. 
 I can't understand that fretting about having had a glass too much. 
 I only frets when I can't get enough. Well , of all the noses I ever 
 saw, his bests them by chalks ; I did so want to laugh at it , but I 
 knew it would pain him." 
 
 "It was very kind of you, Tom, to hold your tongue, and I 
 thank you very much." 
 
 "And yet that old dad of mine swears I Ve got no fellow- 
 feeling, which I consider a very undutiful thing for him to say. 
 What 's the reason , Jacob , that sons be always cleverer than their 
 fathers?" 
 
 "I didn't know that was the case , Tom 
 
118 
 
 "But it is so now, if it wasn't in olden time. The proverb 
 says , 'Young people think old people to be fools , but old people 
 know young people to befools.* We must alter that , for I says, 
 'Old people think young people to be fools, but young people 
 know old people to be fools."* 
 
 ** Have it your own way, Tom , that will do , rowed of all.** 
 We tossed in our oars, made the boat fast, and gained the 
 deck, where old Tom still remained at the helm. **Well,** said 
 he , Jacob , I never thought I should be glad to see the old gentle- 
 man clear of the lighter , but 1 was — devilish glad ; he was like a 
 load on my conscience this morning ; he was trusted to my charge 
 by Mr. Drummond , and I had no right to persuade him to make a 
 fool of himself. But, however, what 's done can't be helped, as 
 you say sometimes ; and it 's no use crying; still it was a pity, for 
 he be , for all the world , like a child. There 's a fancy kind of lass 
 in that wherry, crossing our bows ; look at the streamers from her 
 top-gallant. 
 
 " Come o'er the sea, 
 Maiden, to me, 
 Mine through sunshine , storm, and snows, 
 
 Seasons may roll, 
 
 But the true softl. 
 Burns the same wherever it goes. 
 
 Then come o'er the sea, 
 
 Maiden, with me." 
 
 See you hanged first, you underpinned old hulk replied the 
 female in the boat, which was then close under our bows. 
 
 ''Well , that be civil , for sartain ,'* said old Tom y laughing. 
 
 CHAPTER XV, 
 
 I am unshipped for a short time, in order to record shipments and 
 engross invoices. — Form a new acquaintance, what is called in the 
 world 'a warm man,' though he passed the hest part of his life among 
 icebergs, and one whole night within the ribs of death. — His wife 
 works hard at gentility. 
 
 We arrived at Sheeruess the next morning, landed the bricks, 
 which were for the government buildings , and returned in ballast 
 to the wharf. My first inquiry was for the Domine ; but he had 
 
119 
 
 not yet returned; and Mr. Drummond further informed me, that 
 he had been obliged to send away his under clerk , and wished me 
 to supply his place until he could procure another. The lighter 
 therefore took in her cargo , and sailed without me , which was of 
 no consequence , as my apprenticeship still went on. I now lived 
 with Mr. Drummond as one of his own family, and wanted for 
 nothing. His continual kindness to me made me strive all I could 
 to please him by diligence and attention , and I soon became very 
 expert at accounts , and , as he said , very useful. The advantages 
 to me , I hardly need observe , w ere considerable , and I gained in- 
 formation every day. Still , although I w^as glad to be of any use to 
 Mr. Drummond , the confinement to the desk was irksome , and I 
 anxiously looked for the arrival of the new clerk to take my place, 
 and leave me free to join the lighter. Mr. Drummond did not ap- 
 pear to me to be in any hurry ; indeed, I believe that he would have 
 retained me altogether , had he not perceived that I still wished to 
 be on the river. 
 
 '*At all events, Jacob, I shall keep you here until you are 
 master of your work ; it w ill be useful to you hereafter he said to 
 me one day ; "and you do not gain much by sailing up and down 
 the river." 
 
 This was true ; and I also derived much advantage from the 
 evenings spent with Mrs. Drummond, who was a very sensible, 
 good woman , and would make me read aloud to her and little 
 Sarah as they sat at their needle. I had no idea , until I was em- 
 ployed posting up the books , that Mr. Drummond's concern was 
 so extensive , or that there was so much capital employed in the 
 business. The Domine returned a few days after my arrival. 
 When we met , his nose had resumed its former appearance , and 
 he never brought up the subject of the evening on board of the 
 lighter. 1 saw him frequently, mostly on Sundays after I had been 
 to church with the family ; and half an hour , at least , w as certain 
 to be dedicated to our reading together one of the classics. 
 
 As I was on shore several months , I became acquainted with 
 many families , one or two of which were worth noticing. Among 
 the foremost was Captain Turnbull , at least such was his appella- 
 tion until within the last two months previous to my making his 
 
120 
 
 acquaintance, when Mr. Turnbull sent out his cards, George 
 Turnbull, Esq. The history of Captain Turnbull was as 
 follows. He had, with his twin brother, been hung up at the 
 knocker, and afterwards had been educated at the Foundling 
 Hospital ; they had both been apprenticed to the sea ; grown up 
 thorough-bred , capital seamen , in the Greenland fishery ; rose to 
 be mates, then captains; had been very successful , owned part, 
 then the whole , of a ship , afterwards two or three ships ; and Imd 
 wound up with handsome fortunes. Captain Turnbull was a 
 married man without a family ; his wife , fine in person , vulgar in 
 speech, a would-be fashionable lady, against which fashion Cap- 
 tain T. had , for years , pleaded poverty; but his brother , who had 
 remained a bachelor, died , leaving him forty thousand pounds , — 
 a fact which could not be concealed. Captaiil Turnbull had not 
 allowed his wife to be aware of the extent of his own fortune , more 
 from a wish to live quietly and happily , than from any motive of 
 parsimony, for he was liberal to excess ; but now he had no further 
 excuse to plead , and Mrs. Turnbull insisted upon f a s h i o n. The 
 hoiise they had lived in was given up , and a marine villa on the 
 borders of the Thames , to a certain degree , met the views of both 
 parties; Mrs. Turnbull anticipating dinners and f6tes, and the 
 captain content to watch what was going on in the river, and amuse 
 himself in a wherry. They had long been acquaintances of Mr. 
 and Mrs. Drummond ; and Captain Turnbull's character was such 
 as always to command the respect of Mr. Drummond , as he was an 
 honest , friendly man. Mrs. Turnbull had now set up her carriage, 
 and she was, in her own opinion, a very great personage. She 
 would have cut all her former acquaintance ; but on that point the 
 captain was inflexible , particularly as regarded the Drummonds. 
 As far as they were concerned, Mrs. Turnbull gave way, Mrs. 
 Drummond being a lady-like woman , and Mr. Drummond uni- 
 versally respected as a man of talent and information. Captain , or 
 rather, Mr. Turnbull , was a constant visiter at our house , and very 
 partial to me. He used to scold Mr. Drummond for keeping me so 
 close to my desk, and would often persuade him to give me a 
 couple of hours* run. When this was obtained, he would call a 
 waterman, throw him a crown , and tell him to get out of his wherry 
 
121 
 
 as fast as he could. We then embarked, and amused ourselves 
 pulling up and down the river, while Mrs. Turnbull , dressed in the 
 extremity of the fashion , rode out in the carriage and left her cards 
 in every direction. ^ 
 
 One day Mr. Turnbull called upon the Drummonds, and asked 
 Ihem to dine with him on the following Saturday : they accepted 
 the invitation. *'By the by," said he, **rve got what my wife 
 calls a remind in my pocket;" and he pulled out of his coat- 
 pocket a large card, " with Mr. andMrs.Turnbuirs compliments," 
 &c. which card had been doubled in two by his sitting down upon 
 it, shortly after he came in. Mr. Turnbull straightened it again as 
 well as he could , and laid it on the table. And Jacob," said he, 
 *' you'll come too. You don't want a remind; but if you do, my 
 wife will send you one." 
 
 I replied, ''that I wanted no remind for a good dinner. " 
 
 "No , I dare say not, my boy; but recollect that you come an 
 hour or two before the dinner-hour, to help me; there's so much 
 fuss with one thing or another, that I'm left in the lurch ; and as 
 for trusting the keys of the spirit-room to that long-togged rascal 
 of a butler, I'll see him harpoon'd first; so do you come and help 
 me, Jacob." 
 
 This having been promised , he asked Mr. Drummond to lend 
 me for an hour or so, as he wished to take a row up the river. This 
 was also consented to : we embarked and pulled away for Kew 
 Bridge. Mr. Turnbull was as good a hand at a yarn as old Tom, 
 and many were the adventures he narrated to me of what had taken 
 place during the vicissitudes of his life , more especially when he 
 was employed in the Greenland fishery. He related an accident 
 that morning, which particularly bore upon the marvellous, al- 
 though I do not believe that he was at all guilty of indulging in a 
 traveller's licence. 
 
 *' Jacob," said he, **I recollect once when I was very near 
 eaten alive by foxes , and that in a very singular manner. I was 
 then mate of a Greenland ship. We had been on the fishing 
 ground for three months, and had twelve fish on board. Finding 
 we were doing well , we fixed our iceanchors upon a very large ice- 
 berg, drifting up and down with it, and taking fish as we fell in 
 
12% 
 
 with them. One morning we had just cast loose the carcase of a 
 fish which we had cut up, when the man in the crow's nest , on the 
 look out for another * fall / cried out that a large polar bear and her 
 cub were swimming over to the iceberg, against the side of which, 
 and about half a mile from us , the carcase of a whale was beating. 
 As we had nothing to do, seven of us immediately started in chase: 
 we had intended to have gone after the foxes , which had gathered 
 there also in hundreds, to prey upon the dead whale. It was then 
 quite calm: we soon came up with the bear, who at first was for 
 making off; but as the cub could not get on over the rough ice as 
 well as the old one, she at last turned round to bay. We shot the 
 cub to make sure of her , and it did make sure of the dam not 
 leaving us till either she or we perished in the conflict. I never 
 shall forget her moaning over the cub, as it lay bleeding on the ice, 
 while we fired bullet after bullet into her. At last she turned 
 round, gave a roar and a gnashing snarl, which you might have 
 heard a mile , and , with her eyes flashing fire , darted upon us. 
 We received her in a body, all close together, with our lances to 
 her breast ; but she was so large and so strong, that she beat us all 
 back, and two of us fell ; fortunately the others held their ground, 
 and as she was then on end , three bullets were put into her chest, 
 which brought her down. I never saw so large a beast in my life. 
 I don't wish to make her out larger than she really was , but I have 
 seen many a bullock at Smith which would not weigh two thirds of 
 her. Well, after that, we had some trouble in despatching her; 
 and while we were so employed , the wind blew up in gusts from 
 the northward , and the snow fell heavy. The men were for re- 
 turning to the ship immediately , which certainly was the wisest 
 thing for us all to do ; but I thought that the snow storm would 
 blow over in a short time , and not wishing to lose so fine a skin, 
 resolved to remain and flay the beast ; for I knew , that if left there 
 a few hours, as the foxes could not get hold of the carcase of the 
 whale, which had not grounded, they would soon finish the bear 
 and cub, and the skins be worth nothing. Well, the other men 
 went back to the ship , and as it was , the snow storm came on so 
 thick, that they lost their way, and would never have found her, if 
 it was not that the bell was kept tolling for a guide to them. I soon 
 
123 
 
 found that I had done a very foolish thing ; instead of the storm 
 blowing over, the snow came down thicker and thicker ; and be- 
 fore I had taken a quarter of the skin off, I was becoming cold and 
 numbed, and then 1 was unable to regain the ship, and with every 
 prospect of being frozen to death before the storm was over. At 
 last, I knew what was my only chance. I had flayed all the belly 
 of the bear, but had not cut her open. I ripped her up, tore out 
 all her inside, and then contrived to get into her body, where I lay, 
 and, having closed up the entrance hole , was warm and comfor- 
 table, for the animal heat had not yet been extinguished. This 
 manoeuvre, no doubt, saved my life: and I have heard that the 
 French soldiers did the same in their unfortunate Russian 
 campaign, killing their horses, and getting inside to protect them- 
 selves from the dreadful weather. Well , Jacob , I had not lain 
 more than half an hour, when I knew by sundry jerks and tugs at 
 my new invented hurricane-house, that the foxes were busy — and 
 so they were, sure enough. There must have been hundreds of 
 them , for they were at work in all directions , and some pushed 
 their sharp noses into the opening where I had crept in ; but I con- 
 trived to get out my knife and saw their noses across whenever they 
 touched me, otherwise I should have been eaten up in a very short 
 time. There were so many of them, and they were so ravenous, 
 that they soon got through the bear's thick skin , and were tearing 
 away at the flesh. Now I was not so much afraid of their eating 
 me, as I thought that if I jumped up and discovered myself , they 
 would have all fled. No saying, though; two or three hundred 
 ravenous devils take courage when together; but I was afraid that 
 they would devour my covering from the weather, and then I 
 should perish with the cold ; and I also was afraid of having pieces 
 nipped out of me , which would of course oblige me to quit my 
 retreat. At last , daylight was made through the upper part of the 
 carcase , and I was only protected by the ribs of the animal , be- 
 tween which every now and then their noses dived and nipped my 
 seal-skin jacket. I was just thinking of shouting to frighten them 
 away, when I heard the report of half a dozen muskets , and some 
 of the bullets struck the carcase, but fortunately did not hit me. I 
 immediately hallooed as loud as I could , and the men , hearing 
 
124 
 
 me, ceased firing. They had fired at the foxes, little thinking that 
 I was inside of the bear. I crawled out , the storm was over , and 
 the men of the ship had come back to look for me. My brother, 
 who was also a mate on board of the vessei, who had not been with 
 the first party, had joined them in the search, but with little hopes 
 of finding me alive. He hugged me in his arms , covered as I was 
 with blood, as soon as he saw me. He's dead now , poor fellow! 
 — That 's the story, Jacob." 
 
 Thank you. Sir," replied I; but perceiving that the memory 
 of his brother affected him, I did not speak again for a few minutes. 
 We then resumed our conversation, and pulling back with the tide, 
 landed at the wharf. 
 
 On the day of the dinner party, I went up to Mr. TurnbuU's at 
 three o'clock, as he had proposed. I found the house in a bustle ; 
 Mr. and Mrs. Turnbull, with the butler and footman, in the 
 dining-room, debating as to the propriety of this and that being 
 placed here or there, both servants giving their opinion, and 
 arguing on a footing of equality, contradicting and insisting, Mr. 
 Turnbull occasionally throwing in a word , and each time snubbed 
 by his wife , although the servants dare not take any liberty with 
 him. *'Do, pray, Mr. Turnbull, leave //us to settle these mat- 
 ters. Get //up your wine, that is your department. Leave the 
 room, Mr. Turnbull , //if you please. Mortimer and I know what 
 we are about , without your //interference." 
 
 *'0h! by the Lord, I don't wish to interfere; but I wish you 
 and your servants not to be squabbling, that 's all. If they gave 
 me half the c h e e k — " 
 
 **Do pray, Mr. Turnbull, leave the room, and allow me to 
 regulate my own *o u s e hold." 
 
 *'Come, Jacob, we'll go down into the cellar," said Mr. Turn- 
 Dull; and accordingly we went. 
 
 I assisted Mr. Turnbull in his department as much as I could, 
 but he grumbled very much. *' I can't bear all this nonsense, all 
 this finery and foolery. Every thing comes up cold, every thing is 
 out of reach. The table 's so long, and so covered with uneatables, 
 .that my wife is hardly within hail; and, by jingo, with her, the 
 servants are masters. Not with me, at all events ; for if they spoke 
 
125 
 
 to me as they do to Mrs. Turnbull, I would kick them out of the 
 house. However, Jacob, there 's no help for it. All one asks for 
 is quiet; and I must put up with all this sometimes, or I should 
 have no quiet from one year's end to another. When a woman w ill 
 have her way, there 's no stopping her: you know the old verse — 
 
 A man 's a fool, who strives by force or skill 
 
 To stem the torrent of a woman's will; 
 
 For if she will, she will, you may depend on 't, 
 
 And if she won't, she won't — and there 's an end on 't. 
 
 *' Now let 's go up into ray room , and we will chat while I wash my 
 hands." 
 
 As soon as Mr. Turnbull was dressed , we went down into the 
 drawing-room , which was crowded with tables , loaded with every 
 variety of ornamental articles. *'Now this is what my wife calls 
 fashionable. One might as well be steering through an ice floe as 
 try to come to an anchor here without running foul of something. 
 It 's hard a port or hard a starboard every minute; and if 
 your coat-tail jibes, away goes something, and whatever it is 
 that smashes, Mrs. T. always swears it w\is the most valuable 
 thing in the room. I'm like a bull in a china-shop. One comfort 
 is , that I never come in here e^ept when there 's company. In- 
 deed I *m not allowed , thank God. Sit on a chair, Jacob , one of 
 those spider-like French things , for my wife won't allow blacks, 
 as she calls them , to come to an anchor upon her sky-blue silk so- 
 fas. How stupid to have furniture that one *s not to make use of! 
 Give me comfort; but it appears that 's not to be bought for 
 money." 
 
 CHAPTER XVL 
 
 High life above stairs, a little below the mark, — Fashion, French, 
 Vertu, and all that. 
 
 Six o'clock was now near at hand, and Mrs. Turnbull entered 
 the drawing-room in full dress. She certainly was a very handsome 
 woman , and had every appearance of being fashionable ; but it 
 was her language which exposed her. She w as like the peacock. As 
 long as she was silent you could but admire the plumage , but her 
 
126 
 
 voice spoilt all. ''Now, Mr. Turnbull," said she, **I wish to 
 //explain to you that there are certain //improprieties in your be- 
 haviour which I cannot put //up with , particularly that //of talking 
 about when you were before the mast." 
 
 Well , my dear , is that any thing to be ashamed of? " 
 
 *'Yes, Mr. Turnbull, that //is — one //always sinks them ere 
 particulars in fashionable society. To e^^/Vtuperate in company 
 a'n't pleasant, and Hi 've thought of a plan which may //act as an 
 //impediment to your vulgarity. Recollect, Mr. T. when//ever I 
 say that Hi 've an '^«c?ache , it 's to be a sign for you to 'old your 
 tongue; and Mr. T., //oblige me by wearing kid gloves all the 
 evening." 
 
 ' ' What , at dinner time , my dear ? " 
 
 *'Yes, at dinner time; your 'ands are not fit to be touched.** 
 
 ** Well , I recollect when you thought otherwise." 
 
 **When, Mr. T.? 'ave I not often told you so?" 
 
 "Yes, lately; but I referred to the time when one Poll Bacon 
 of Wapping took my hand for better or for worse." 
 
 ''Really, Mr. T., you quite shock me. My name was Mary, 
 and the Bacons are a good old /finglish name. You 'ave their 
 //arms quartered on the carriage iR right o' me. That 's something, 
 I can tell you." 
 
 " Something I had to pay for pretty smartly , at all events." 
 
 "The payment, Mr. T., was on account of granting //arras to 
 you who never 'ad any." 
 
 "And never wished for them. What do I care for such 
 stuff?" 
 
 "And when you did choose, Mr. Turnbull, you might have 
 consulted me, instead of making yourself the laughing-stock of 
 Sir George Naylor and all the 'eralds. Who but a madman would 
 have chosen three harpoons saluims, and three barrels 
 cou chants, with a spouting whale for a crest? Just to point 
 out to evQry body what should //ever be buried in //oblivion; and 
 then your beastly motto — which I would have changed — 
 'Blubber for ever!' Blubber indeed ! //enough to make //any 
 one blubber for ever." 
 
127 
 
 ** Well , the heralds told me they were just what I ought to have 
 chosen , and very apposite , as they termed it." 
 
 *'They took your money and laughed at you. Two pair of 
 griffins , a lion , half a dozen leopards , and a hand with a dagger, 
 wouldn't 'ave cost a farthing more. But what can you Aexpect from 
 an 'og?" 
 
 **Butif Iwas cured, I should be what you were — Bacon." 
 I won't demean myself, Mr. Turnbull.'* 
 That 's right, my dear, don't; there 's no curing you. Re- 
 collect the motto you chose in preference to mine." 
 
 "Well, and a very proper one — *Too much familiarity 
 breeds contempt' — is it not, Master Faithful?" 
 '*Yes, madam, it was one of our copies at school." 
 ** I beg your pardon , Sir , it was my //own //invention." 
 Rap tap , rap tap tap , tap tap. 
 
 ''Mr. and Mrs. Peters, of Petercumb Hall," announced the 
 butler. Enter Mrs. Peters first, a very diminutive lady, and 
 followed by Mr. Peters , six feet four inches without his shoes , de- 
 duct for stooping and curved shoulders seven inches. Mr. Peters 
 had retired from the Slock Exchange with a competence , bought a 
 place, named it Petercumb Hall , and set up his carriage. An- 
 other knock, and Mr. and Mrs. Drummond were announced. 
 Compliments exchanged , and a pastile lighted by Mrs. Turnbull. 
 
 "Well, Drummond," said Mr. Turnbull , "what are coals 
 worth now?" 
 
 ' ' Mr. Turnbull , I 've got such an * e a d a c h e." 
 
 This was of course a matter of condolence from all present, and 
 a stopper upon Mr. Turnbull's tongue. 
 
 Another sounding rap , and a pause. "Monsieur and Madame 
 de Tagliabue coming up." Enter Monsieur and Madame de 
 Tagliabue. The former a dapper little Frenchman, with a neat 
 pair of legs , and a stomach as round as a pea. Madame sailing in 
 like an outward-bound Eastlndiaman, with studding sails below 
 and aloft ; so large in her dimensions , that her husband might be 
 compared to the pilot-boat plying about her stern. 
 
 "Charm^e de vous voir, Madame Tom-buUe. Vous vous 
 portezbien; n'est-ce pas?" 
 
128 
 
 *' Ve /* replied Mrs. TurnbuU , who thus exhausted her know- 
 ledge of the French language ; while the Monsieur tried in vain, 
 first on one side , and then on the other, to get from under the lee 
 of his wife and make his bow. This was not accomplished until 
 the lady had taken possession of a sofa , which she tilled most com- 
 fortably. 
 
 Who these people were , and how they lived , I never could find 
 out ; they came in a fly from Brentford. 
 
 Another announcement. **My Lord Babbleton and Mr. Smith 
 coming up." 
 
 **Mr. T. pray go down and receive his lordship. (There are 
 two wax candles for you to light on the hall table, and you must 
 walk up with them before his lordship said the lady , aside.) 
 
 **£ *11 be hanged if I do," replied Mr. Turnbull ; **let the ser- 
 vants light him." 
 
 *^ O Mr. T., I 've such an 'eadache ! " 
 
 ** So you may have ," replied Mr. T., sitting down doggedly. 
 
 In the mean time Mr. Smith entered , leading Lord Babbleton, 
 a boy of twelve or thirteen years old, shy, awkward, red-haired, 
 and ugly, to whom Mr. Smith was tutor. Mrs. T. had found out 
 Mr. Smith, who was residing near Brentford with his charge, and 
 made his acquaintance on purpose to have a lord on her visiting 
 list , and , to her delight , the leader had not forgotten to bring his 
 bear with him. Mrs. Turnbull sprang to the door to receive them, 
 making a prepared courtesy to the aristocratial cub , and then 
 shaking him respectfully by the hand, — ''Won't your lordship 
 walk to the fire? isn't your lordship cold? I hope your lordship's 
 sty is better in your lordship's eye. Allow me to introduce to your 
 lordship's notice, Mr. and Mrs. Peters — Madame and Mounsheer 
 Tagleebue — Mr. and Mrs. Drummond, the Right Honourable 
 Lord Viscount Babbleton." As for Mr. Turnbull and myself, we 
 were left out, as unworthy of introduction. *'We are ready for 
 dinner , Mr. Turnbull." 
 
 *' Snobbs , get dinner dressed up said Mr. T. to the butler. 
 0 Mr. T. , I 've such an 'eadache." 
 
 This last headache was produced by Mr. T. forgetting himself, 
 -nd calling the butler by his real name, which was Snobbs; but 
 
129 
 
 Mrs. Turnbull had resolved that it should be changed to Mor- 
 timer — or rather, to Mr. Mortimer, as the household were di- 
 rected to call him , on pain of expulsion. 
 
 Dinner was announced. Madame Tagliabue , upon Vhat pre- 
 tence I know not, was considered the first lady in the room, 'and 
 Lord Babbleton was requested by Mrs. Turnbull to hand her down. 
 Madame rose, took his lordship's hand, and led him away. Before 
 they were out of the room, his lordship had disappeared 
 among the ample folds of Madame's gown , and was seen no more 
 until she pulled him out, on their arrival at the dinner-table. At 
 last we were all arranged according to Mrs. Turnbull's wishes , al- 
 though there were several chops and changes about, until the order 
 of precedence could be correctly observed. A French cook had 
 been sent for by Mrs. Turnbull; and not being mistress of the 
 language, she had a card with the names of the dishes to refresh 
 her memory , Mr. Mortimer having informed her that such was al- 
 ways the custom among great people, who, not ordering their own 
 dinners , of course they could not tell what there was to eat. 
 
 *'Mrs. Turnbull, what soup have you there?" 
 
 **Consummy soup, my lord. Will your lordship make 
 use of that or of this here, which is o'juss." 
 
 Bis lordship stared, made no answer ; looked foolish ; and Mr. 
 Mortimer placed some soup before him. 
 
 ** Lord Babbleton takes soup," said Mr. Smith, pompously; 
 and the little right honourable supped soup , much to Mrs. Turn- 
 bull's satisfaction. 
 
 *^ Madame, do you soup? or do you fish?" 
 
 **Merci, no soup — poisson." 
 Don't be afraid , madame ; we 've a French cook; you won't 
 be poisoned here," replied Mrs. Turnbull, rather annoyed. 
 
 * * Comment , ma ch^re madame , I meant to say dat I prefer de 
 cod." 
 
 *'Mr. T. , some fish for Madame. John, a clean plate for 
 Lord Babbleton. What will your lordship condescend to make 
 use of now?" (Mrs. Turnbull thought the phrase, make use, 
 excessively refined and elegant.) 
 
 Jacob Faithful, 9 
 
130 
 
 *'Ah! madame, votre cuisine estsuperbe," exclaimed Mon- 
 sieur Tagliabue , tucking the corner of his napkin into his button- 
 hole , and making preparations for well filling his little rotundity. 
 
 **Ve,'v replied Mrs. TurnbuU. **Mrs. Peters, will you try 
 the dish next Mr. Turnbull? What is it?" (looking at her 
 card) — "Agno roty. Will you, my lord? If your lordship 
 has not yet got into your French — it means roast quarter of 
 lamb." 
 
 "His lordship i^ very partial to lamb ,** said Mr. Smith, with 
 emphasis. 
 
 Mr. Turnbull, some Iamb for Lord Babbleton , and for Mr. 
 Peters." 
 
 Directly, my dear. — Well, Jacob, you see, when I was 
 first mate — " 
 
 ** Dear ! Mr. Turnbull — I 've such an 'eadache. Do pray cut 
 the lamb. (Aside.) Mr. Mortimer, do go and whisper to Mr. 
 Turnbull that I beg he will put on his gloves." 
 
 **Mrs. Peters, you 're doing nothing. Mr. Mortimer 'and 
 round the side dishes , and let John serve out the champagne." 
 
 "Mrs. Peters, there 's a wolley went o' weaters. Will 
 you make use of some? Mrs. Drummond, will you try the dish 
 cominground? itis — letmesee — it is chew f arsy. My Lord 
 Babbleton, I*ope the lamb's to your liking? Monshere Tagliabue 
 — William, give Monshere a clean plate. What will you take 
 next?" 
 
 ** Vraiment , madame , tout est excellent , superbe ! Je vou- 
 drois embrasser votre cuisinier — c'est un artiste comme il n'y a 
 pas." 
 
 " V e , " replied Mrs . Turnbull . 
 
 The first course was removed ; and the second , after some de- 
 lay , made its appearance. In the interim , Mr. Mortimer handed 
 round one or two varieties of wine. 
 
 "Drummond, will you take a glass of wine with me?*' said 
 Mr. Turnbull. "I hate your sour French wines. Will you take 
 Madeira? I was on shore at Madeira once, for a few hours, when I 
 was before the mast , in the — " 
 
 "Mr. Turnbull , I 've such an 'eadache Cried his lady, in an 
 
131 
 
 angry tone. ''My lord, will you take some of this? — it is — a 
 ding dong o' turf — a turkey, my lord." 
 
 '*His lordship is fond of turkey," said Mr. Smith, dictato- 
 rially. 
 
 MoDsieur Tagliabue, who sat oq the other side of Mrs. T., 
 found that the turkey was in request — it was some time before he 
 could help himself. 
 
 "C'est superbe!" said Monsieur, thrusting a truffle into his 
 mouth. '*Apparemment, madame n'aime pas la cuisine Ang- 
 laise?" 
 
 '* Ve ," replied Mrs. Turnbull. ''Madame , what will you be 
 /^assisted to?" continued Mrs. T. 
 "Toutdebon, madame." 
 
 "Ve; what are those by you , Mr. Peters?" inquired the lady 
 io continuation. 
 
 "I really cannot exactly say; but they arc fritters of some 
 sort. " 
 
 ^' Let me see — hoh! bidet du poms. Madame, will you eat 
 some bidet du poms?" 
 
 "Comment, madame, je ne vous comprends pas — " 
 '^Ve." 
 
 "Monsieur Tagliabue, expliquez done ; " said the foreign lady, 
 red as a quarter of beef. 
 
 "Permettez," said Monsieur, looking at the card. "Ah 
 c'est impossible, machere," continued he laughing. "Madame 
 Turnbull se trompoit, elle voudroit dire Beignets de pom- 
 mes." 
 
 " Vous trouvez notre langue fort difficile , n'est-ce pas? " con- 
 tinued Madame, who recovered her good-humour, and smiled 
 graciously at Mrs. T. 
 
 "Ve," replied Mrs. Turnbull, who perceived that she had 
 made some mistake, and was anxiously awaiting the issue of the 
 dialogue. It had, however, the effect of checking Mrs. T. , who 
 said little more during the dinner and dessert. 
 
 At last the ladies rose from the dessert, and left the gentlemen 
 at the table: but we were not permitted to remain long, before 
 coffee was announced , and we went upstairs. A variety of French 
 
 9* 
 
132 
 
 liqueurs were handed about , and praised by most of the com- 
 pany. Mr. Turnbull, however, ordered a glass of brandy , as a 
 settler. 
 
 * ' Oh ! Mr. Turnbull , Tve such an 'eadache ! " 
 
 After that the party became very dull. Lord Babbleton fell 
 asleep on the sofa. Mr. Peters walked round the room , admiring 
 the pictures , and asking the names of the masters. 
 
 I really quite forget; but, Mr. Druntmond, you are a judge 
 of paintings , I hear. Who do you think this is painted by ? " said 
 the lady, pointing to a very inferior performance. ** I am not quite 
 sure; but I think it is Van — Van Daub.*' 
 
 I should think so too," replied Mr. Drummond, drily; **we 
 have a great many pictures in England , by the same hand." 
 
 The French gentleman proposed ^ cart 6, but no one knew 
 how to play it except his wife; who sat down with him to pass 
 away the time. The ladies sauntered about the room , looking at 
 the contents of the tables, Mrs. Peters occasionally talking of Pe- 
 tercumb Hall; Mr. Smith played at patience in one corner; while 
 Mr. Turnbull and Mr. Drummond sat in another in close conversa- 
 tion; and the lady of the house divided her attentions, running 
 from one to the other, and requesting them not to talk so loud as 
 to awake the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Babbleton. At last 
 the vehicles were announced , and the fashionable party broke up, 
 much to the satisfaction of every body , and to none more than 
 myself. 
 
 I ought to observe, that all the peculiar absurdities I have 
 narrated , did not strike me so much at the time ; but it was an 
 event to me to dine out , and the scene was well impressed upon 
 my memory. After what occurred to me in my after life, and when 
 I became better able to judge of fashionable pretensions, the whole 
 was vividly brought back to my recollection. 
 
133 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Tomkinses* fete champetre and fete dansante. — Lights among the 
 gooseberry-bushes. — All went off \rell, excepting the lights, they 
 went out. — A winding up that had nearly proved a catastrophe. — 
 Old Tom proves that danger makes friends, by a yarn, young Tom, 
 by a fact. 
 
 I REMAINED With Mr. Drummond about eight months , when 
 at last the new clerk made his appearance — a little fat fellow, 
 about twenty, with a face as round as a full moon , thick lips, and 
 red cheeks. During this time I frequently had the pleasure of 
 meeting with old and young Tom , who appeared very anxious that 
 I should rejoin them ; and I must say that I was equally willing to 
 return to the lighter. Still Mr. Drummond put his veto on it , and 
 Mrs. Drummond was also constantly pointing out the very desi- 
 rable situation I might have on shore as a clerk in the office ; but I 
 could not bear it — seated nearly the whole day — perched up on a 
 high stool — turning over Dr., contra Cr., and only occasionally 
 interrupted by the head clerk, with his attempts to make rhymes. 
 When the new clerk came , I expected my release , but I was dis- 
 appointed. Mr. Drummond discovered him to be so awkward, and 
 the head clerk declared that the time was so busy , that he could 
 not spare me. This was true ; Mr. Drummond had just come to a 
 final arrangement, which had been some time pending, by which 
 he purchased a wharf and large warehouses , with a house adjoin- 
 ing , in Lower Thames Street — a very large concern , for which 
 he had paid a considerable sum of money. What with the valua- 
 tions , winding up of the Brentford concern on the old account, 
 <fec., there was much to do, and I toiled at the desk until the re- 
 moval took place ; and when the family were removed , I was still 
 
134 
 
 detained, as there was no warehouseman to superintend the un- 
 loading and hoisting up of goods. Mr. Tomkins , the head clerk, 
 who had been many years a faithful servant to Mr. Drummond, 
 was admitted as a partner, and had charge of the Brentford wharf> 
 a species of promotion which he and his wife resolved to celebrate 
 with a party. After a long debate , it was resolved that they should 
 give a ball, and Mrs. Tomkins exerted all her taste and ingenuity 
 on the occasion. My friend Tomkins lived at a short distance from 
 the premises , in a small house , surrounded with half an acre of 
 garden , chiefly filled with gooseberry-bushes , and perambulated 
 by means of four straight gravel walks. Mr. and Mrs. Drummond 
 were invited, and accepted the invitation, which was considered 
 by the Tomkinses as a great mark of condescension. As a speci- 
 men of Mr. Tomkins 's poeticaLtalents , I shall give his invitation 
 to Mr. Drummond , written in the very best German text : — 
 
 "Mr. and Mrs. T— 
 Sincerely hope to see 
 Mr. and Mrs. Drum- 
 Mond, to a very hum- 
 Ble party that they in- 
 Tend to ask their kin 
 To, on the Saturday 
 Of the week ensuing; 
 When fiddles they will play, 
 And other things be doing." 
 Belle Vue House. 
 
 To which jeu d'e sprit Mr. Drummond answered with a pencil 
 on a card — 
 
 "Mr. and Mrs. Drum- 
 Mond intend to come." 
 
 *'Here, give Tomkins that, Jacob; it will please him better 
 than any formal acceptation." Mr. and Mrs. Turnbull were also 
 asked : the former accepted , but the latter indignantly refused. 
 
 When I arrived with Mr. and Mrs. Drummond, many of the 
 company were there ; the garden was what they called illuminated, 
 that is, every gooseberry-bush had one variegated lamp suspended 
 about the centre; and, as Mr. Tomkins told me afterwards , the 
 lamps were red and yellow, according to the fruit they bore. It 
 was a cold , frosty, clear night, and the lamps twinkled as brightly 
 
185 
 
 among the bare boughs of the gooseberry-trees as the stars did in 
 the heavens. The company in general were quite charmed with 
 the novelty. ** Quite a minor Wauxhall," cried one lady, 
 whose exuberance of fat kept her warm enough to allow her to 
 stare about in the open air. The entrance porch had a dozen little 
 lamps , backed with laurel twigs , and looked very imposing. Mrs. 
 Tomkins received her company upon the steps outside , that she 
 might have the pleasure of hearing their praises of her external ar- 
 rangements; still it was freezing, and she shivered not a little. 
 The drawing-room , fourteen feet by ten, was fitted up as the ball- 
 room , with two fiddlers and a fifer sitting in a corner, and a coun- 
 try-dance was performing when we arrived. Over the mantel- 
 piece was a square of laurel twigs, inclosing as a frame, this 
 couplet, from the poetical brain of the master of the house, cut 
 out in red paper , and bespangled with blue and yellow tinsel — 
 
 **Here vre are to dance so gay, 
 AVhile the fiddlers play away." 
 
 Other appropriate distichs, which I have now forgotten, were 
 framed in the same way on each of the other compartments. But 
 the dining-room was the chef d'oeuvre. It was formed into a 
 bower, with evergreens , and on the evergreen boughs were stuck 
 real apples and oranges in all directions , so that you could help 
 yourself. 
 
 **Vell, I do declare, this is a paradise!" exclaimed the fat 
 lady who entered with me. 
 
 '*In all but one thing, ma*am," replied Mr. Turnbull , who, 
 with his coat off, was squeezing lemons for the punch — ** there's 
 no forbid den fruit. You may help yourself.'* 
 
 This bon-mot was repeated by Mr. Tomkins to the end of his 
 existence, not only for its own sake, but because it gave him an 
 opportunity of entering into a detail of the whole f 6te — the first 
 he had ever given in his life. **Ah, Jacob, my boy, glad to see 
 you — come and help here — they '11 soon be thirsty, I '11 war- 
 rant," said Mr. Turnbull, who was in his glory. The company, 
 although not so very select, were very happy ; they danced , drank 
 punch , laughed , and danced again ; and it was not till a late hour, 
 long after Mr. and Mrs. Drummond had gone home , that I quitted 
 
136 
 
 the festive scene;" Mr. TurnbuII, who walked away with me, 
 declaring that it was worth a dozen of his party , although they had 
 not such grand people as Mrs. Tagliabue , or the Right Honourable 
 Lord Viscount Babbleton. I thought so too ; every one was happy, 
 and every one at their ease; and I do believe they would have 
 stayed much longer , but the musicians took so much punch , that 
 one fiddler broke his fiddle, the other broke his head in going down 
 the steps into the garden , and the fifer swore he could blow no 
 longer; so, as there was an end to the music, clogs, pattens, 
 and lanterns were called for, the shawls were brought out of the 
 kitchen, and every one went away. Nothing could go off better. 
 Mrs. Tomkins had a cold and rheumatism the next day ; but that 
 was not surprising, a minor Wauxhall not being seasonable 
 in the month of December. 
 
 A week after this party, we removed to Thames Street, and 
 1 performed the duty of warehouseman. Our quantity of lighters 
 was now much increased, and employed in carrying dry goods, 8cc, 
 One morning old Tom came under the crane to discharge his 
 lighter, and wishing to see me , when the fall had been overhauled 
 down , to heave up the casks with which the lighter was laden, 
 instead of hooking on a cask, held on by his hands, crying, ''Hoist 
 away," intending to be hoisted himself up to the door of the ware- 
 house where I was presiding. Now , there was nothing unusual in 
 this whim of old Tom's , but still he ran a very narrow chance , in 
 consequence of an extra whim of young Tom's , who, as soon as his 
 father was suspended in the air, caught hold of his two wooden 
 stumps, to be hoisted up also; and as he caught hold of them, 
 standing on tiptoe, they both swung clear of the lighter, which 
 could not approach to within five feet of the buildings. The crane 
 was on the third story of the warehouse, and very high up. "Tom, 
 Tom, you rascal, what the devil are you about?" cried the old 
 man , when he felt the weight of his sou's body hanging to him. 
 
 "Going up along with you, father — hope we shall go to 
 heaven the same way." 
 
 "More likely to go to the devil together, you little fool; I 
 never can bear your weight. Hoist away, there, quick." 
 
 Hearing the voices , I looked out of the door , and perceiving 
 
137 
 
 their situation, ordered the men to hoist as fast as they could, 
 before old Tom's strength should be exhausted; but it was a com- 
 pound movement crane, and we could not hoist very fast, al- 
 though we could hoist very great weights. At last, as they were 
 wound up higher and higher, old Tom's strength was going fast. 
 ** O Tom, Tom, what must be done? I can't — I can't hold on 
 but a little longer, and we shall be both dashed to pieces. My 
 poor boy!" 
 
 "Well then, I'll let go, father; it was all my folly, and I'll 
 be the sufferer." 
 
 "Let go!" cried old Tom; *'no, no, Tom — don't let go, 
 my boy; I'll try a little longer. Don't let go, my dear boy — 
 don't let go!" 
 
 **Well, father, how much longer canyon hold on?" 
 
 "A little — very little longer," replied the old man, strug- 
 gling. 
 
 **Well, hold fast now," cried young Tom , who, raising his 
 head above his arms, with a great exertion shifted one of his hands 
 to his father's thigh, then the other; raising himself as before, 
 he then caught at the seat of his father's trousers with his teeth ; 
 old Tom groaned, for his son had taken hold of more than the 
 garments ; he then shifted his hands round his father's body — 
 from thence he gained the collar of his jacket — from the collar he 
 climbed on his father's shoulders , from thence he seized hold of 
 the fall above, and relieved his father of his weight. **Now, 
 .father, are you all right?" cried Tom , panting as he clung to the 
 fall above him. 
 
 '*I can't hold on ten seconds more, Tom — no longer — my 
 clutch is going now." 
 
 "Hang on by your eyelids, father, if you love me," cried 
 young Tom, in agony. 
 
 It was indeed an awful moment: they were now at least sixty 
 feet above the lighter, suspended in the air; the men whirled 
 round the wheel, and I had at last the pleasure of hauling them 
 both in on the floor of the warehouse , the old man so exhausted 
 that he could not speak for more than a minute. Young Tom , as 
 soon as all was safe, laughed immoderately. Old Tom sat upright*. 
 
138 
 
 *'It might have been no laughing matter, Mr. Tom," said he, 
 looking at his son. 
 
 ''What's done can't be helped, father, as Jacob says. After 
 all , you *re more frightened than hurt." 
 
 "I don't know that, you young scamp," replied the old man, 
 putting his hand behind him, and rubbing softly; "you 'vebit a 
 piece clean out of my starn. -Now let this be a warning to you, 
 Tom. Jacob, my boy, couldn't you say that I 've met with an 
 accident, and get a drop of something from Mr. Drummond?" 
 
 I thought, after his last observation, I might honestly say 
 that he had met with an accident, and I soon returned with a glass 
 of brandy, which old Tom was drinking olf , when his son inter- 
 rupted him for a share. 
 
 "You know, father, father, I shared the danger." 
 
 "Yes, .Tom, I know you did," replied the father; "but this 
 was sent to me on account of my accident, and as I had that all 
 to myself, I shall have all this too." 
 
 , "But, father, you ought to give me a drop, if it were only to 
 take the taste out of my mouth." 
 
 "Your own flesh and blood, Tom," replied his father, 
 emptying his glass. 
 
 "Well , I always heard it was quite unnatural not to like your 
 own flesh and blood," replied Tom; "but I see now that there 
 may be reasons for it." 
 
 "Be content, Tom," replied his father, putting down the 
 glass: "we 're now just square. You 've had your raw nip, 
 and I 've had mine." 
 
 Mr. Drummond now came up , and asked what had been the 
 matter. "Nothing, Sir — only an accident. Tom and I had a 
 bit of a hoist." 
 
 As this last word had a double meaning, Mr. Drummond 
 thought that a cask had surged , when coming out of the lighter, 
 and struck them down. He desired old Tom to be more careful, 
 and walked away, while we proceeded to unload the lighter. The 
 new clerk was a very heavy, simple young man , plodding and 
 attentive certainly, but he had no other merit; he was sent into 
 the lighter to take the marks and numbers of the casks as they were 
 
139 
 
 hoisted up , and soon became a butt to young Tom , who gave 
 him the wrong marks and numbers of all the casks , to his inter- 
 rogations. 
 
 *'What 's that, boy?" cried the pudding-faced fellow, with 
 his pencil in one hand , and his book in the other. 
 
 ** Pea soup, 13," repliedTom; ** ladies' bonnets, 24. Now, 
 then, master, chalk again, pipe -clay for sodgers, 3; red her- 
 rings, 26." All of which were carefully noted down by Mr. 
 Gubbins, who, when the lighter was cleared, took the memo- 
 randa to Mr. Drummond. 
 
 Fortunately, we had checked the number of the casks as they 
 were received above — their contents w ere flour. Mr. Drummond 
 sent for young Tom, and asked him how^ he dared play such a 
 trick. Tom replied very boldly, *'that it was meant as a good 
 lesson to the young man , that in future he did his own work , and 
 did not trust to others." To this Mr. Drummond agreed, and 
 Master Tojn was dismissed without punishment. 
 
 As the men had all gone to dinner, I went down into the lighter 
 to have a little chat with my old shipmates. *'Weli, Jacob," 
 said old Tom , Tom 's not a bit wiser than he was before — tw o 
 scrapes to-day, already." 
 
 "Well, father, if I prove my folly by getting into scrapes, 
 I prove my wit by getting out of them." 
 
 "Yes, that may be true, Tom; but suppose we had both 
 come down with a run , what would you have thought then? " 
 "I suspect, father, that I should have been past all thinking." 
 "I once did see a thing of that kind happen," said old Tom, 
 calling to mind former scenes in his life ; "and I *11 tell you a yarn 
 about it, boys, because they say danger makes friends." Tom 
 and I sat down by old Tom , who narrated as follows : — 
 
 "When I was captain of the main- top in the La Minerve, 
 forty-four gun frigate , *we were the smartest ship up the Medi- 
 terranean ; and many 's the exercise we were the means of gi>ing 
 to other ships* companies, because they could not beat us — no, 
 not even hold a candle to us. In both fore and main top we had 
 eight and tw enty as smart chaps as ever put their foot to a rattling, 
 or slid down by an a'ter backstay. Now the two captains of the 
 
140 
 
 fore-top were both prime young men, active as monkeys, and 
 bold as lions. One was named Tom Herbert , from North Shields, 
 a dark, good-looking chap , with teeth as white as a nigger's , and 
 a merry chap he was, always a showing them. The other was a 
 cockney chap. Your Lunnuners ar'n't often good seamen ; but 
 when they are seamen , there 's no better ; they never allow any 
 one to show them the way, that 's for sartain, being naturally 
 gpunky sort of chaps, and full of tricks and fun. This fellow's 
 name was Bill Wiggins , and between him and Herbert there was 
 always a jealousy, who should be the smartest man. I 've seen 
 both of them run out on the yard, in fine weather, without holding 
 on nothing, seize the lift , and down to their station , haul up the 
 earing, in no time; up by the lift again, and down on deck , by 
 the backstay, before half the men had time to get clear of the top. 
 In fact, they often risked their lives in bad weather, when there 
 was no occasion for it , that one might outdo the other. Now this 
 was all very well , and a good example to the other men : the 
 captain and officers appeared to like these contests for superiority, 
 but it ended in their hating each other, and not being even on 
 speaking terms, which, as the two captains of the top, was bad. 
 They had quarrelled often , and fought five times , neither proving 
 the better man ; either both done up , or parted by the master-at- 
 arms, and reported to the first lieutenant, so that at last they were 
 not so much countenanced by the officers, and were out of favour 
 with the captain , who threatened to disrate them both if ever they 
 fought again. 
 
 ''We were cruising off the Gulf of Lyons, where sometimes it 
 blows hard enough to blow the devil's horns off, though the gales 
 never last very long. We were under close reefed fore and main- 
 top sails , storm staysail and trysail, when there was a fresh hand 
 at the bellows, and the captain desired the officer of the watch, just 
 before dinner, to take in the fore-top sail. Not to disturb the 
 watch below, the main-top men were ordered up forward , to help 
 the fore-top men of the watch ; and I was of course aloft , ready to 
 lie out on the lee yard-arm — when Wiggins , who had the watch 
 below, came up in the top, not liking that Herbert should beat 
 work in such weather, without he being there too. 
 
141 
 
 * ' ' Tom,' says Wiggins to me , * 1*11 take the yard-arm.* 
 * ' ' Very well ,* says I , * with all my heart , then I'll look to the 
 bunt.' 
 
 '*Just at that time there came on a squall with rain, which 
 almost blinded us ; the sail was taken in very neatly , clew-lines 
 chock-a-block, bunt-lines and leech-lines well up, reef-tackles 
 overhauled, rolling tackles taut, and all as it should be. The men 
 lied out on the yard , the squall wore worse and worse , but they 
 were handing in the leech of the sail , when snap went one bunt- 
 line , then the other , the sail flapped and flagged , till away went 
 the leech-lines, and the men clung to the yards for their lives ; for 
 the sail mastered them, and they could do nothing. At last it split 
 like thunder, buffeting the men on the yard-arms, till they were 
 almost senseless , until to windward it wore away into long coach 
 whips , and the whole of the canvass left was at the lee yard-arm. 
 The men laid in at last with great difliculty , quite worn out by fa- 
 tigue and clinging for their existence; all but Wiggins, who was 
 barred by the sail to leeward from making his footing good on the 
 horse; and there he was, poor fellow, completely in irons, and 
 so beaten by the canvass that he could hardly be said to be sensible. 
 It takes a long while to tell all this , but it wasn't the work of a mi- 
 nute. At last he made an attempt to get up by the lift, but was 
 struck down , and would have been hurled overboard , if it hadn't 
 been that his leg fell over the horse , and there he was head down- 
 wards, hanging over a raging sea, ready to swallow him up as soon 
 as he dropt into it. As every one expected he would be beat off 
 before any assistance could be given , you may guess that it was an 
 awful moment to those below who were looking up at him, 
 watching for his fall and the roll of the ship , to see if he fell clear 
 into the sea or was dashed to pieces in the fore-chains. 
 
 "I couldn't bear to see a fellow-creature , and good seaman in 
 the bargain, in that state, and although the captain dared not 
 order any one to help him, yet there were one or two midshipmen 
 hastening up the fore-rigging, with the intent, I have no doubt, of 
 trying to save him (for midshipmen don't value their lives at a quid 
 of tobacco), so I seizes the studding sail halyards, and runs up the 
 topmost rigging, intending to go down by the lift, and pass a bowl- 
 
142 
 
 ing knot round him before he fell , when w-ho should I meet at the 
 cross-trees but Tom Herbert , who snatched the rope out of my 
 hand, bawling to me through the gale, 'This is my business, Tom/ 
 ''Down he goes by the lift, the remainder of the canvass flap- 
 ped over him , and I seed no more until I heard a cry from all be- 
 low, and away went Herbert and Wiggins, both together, flying 
 to leeward just as the ship was taking her recovery to windward. 
 Fortunately they both fell clear of the ship about two feet, not 
 more, and as their fall was expected, they had prepared below. A 
 master's mate, of the name of Simmonds , and the captain of the 
 forecastle, both went overboard in bowling knots , with another in 
 their hands , and in a minute or two they were afl four on board 
 again ; but Herbert and Wiggins were both senseless , and a long 
 while coming to again. Well, now, what do you think was the 
 upshot of it? why, they were the best friends in the world ever 
 afterwards, and would have died for one another; and if one had 
 a glass of grog from the officers for any little job , instead of touch- 
 ing his forelock and drinking it off to the officer's health, he always 
 took it out of the gun-room , that he might give half of it to the 
 other. So, d'ye see, my boys, as I said before I began my yarn, 
 that danger makes friends. 
 
 *"T is said %ve ventrous die hard. 
 
 When we leave the shore, 
 Our friends may monrn, lest -we return 
 
 To bless their sight no more. 
 But this is all a notion 
 
 Bold Jack can't understand. 
 Some die upon the ocean, 
 
 And some upon dry land." 
 
 "And if we had tumbled, father, we should have just died 
 betwixt and between , not water enough to float us. It would have 
 been woolez wous parlez wous, plump in the mud, as you 
 say sometimes." 
 
 "Why, yes, Tom. I've a notion that I should have been 
 planted too deep , ever to have struck root," replied the old many 
 looking at his wooden stumps. 
 
 "Why, yes, father legs are legs, when you tumble into six 
 
143 
 
 foot of mud. How you would have dibbled down, if your dad- 
 dies hadn't held on/' 
 
 **Well, then, Tom, recollect that you never sell your father 
 for a lark again." 
 
 Tom laughed , and catching at the word , although used in a 
 different sense , sung, 
 
 "Just like the lark, high poised in air. 
 
 ** And so were you, father, only that you didn't sing as he does, 
 and you didn't leave your young one below in the nest." 
 
 Ay , it is the young uns which prevent the old ones from ri- 
 sing in the world — that's very true, Tom. Holla, who have we 
 got here? My service to you at all events." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The art of hard lying made easy, though I am made very uneasy by hard 
 lying. — I send my ruler as a missive, to let the parties concerned 
 know, that I'm a rebel to tyrannical rule. — I am arraigned, tried and 
 condemned without a hearing. — What I lose in speech is made up in 
 feeling, the whole wound up with magnanimous resolves and a little 
 sobbing. 
 
 It was the captain of the American schooner^ from out of 
 which we were then taking the casks of flour. 
 
 ''We've no sarvice in our country, I've a notion, my old 
 bob-tail roarer," said he. When do you come alongside of my 
 schooner, for t'other lading, with this raft of yours? Not to-night, 
 I guess." 
 
 ''Well, you've guessed right this time," replied old Tom, ''tn-g 
 shall lie on the mud till to-morrow morning, with your permis- 
 sion ." 
 
 "Yes, for all the world like a Louisiana alligator. You take 
 things coolly , I 've a notion , in the old country. I don't want to 
 be hanging head and starn in this little bit of a river of your'n. 1 
 must be back to New York afore fever time." 
 
 " She be a pretty craft, that little thing of yours," observed old 
 Tom ; ' ' liow long may she take to make the run ? " 
 
 "How long? I expect in just no time; and she'd go as fast 
 again, only she won't wait for the breeze to come up with her." 
 
144 
 
 ** Why don't you heave-to for it? " said young Tom. 
 
 * ' Lose too much time I guess. I've been chased by an easterly 
 wind all the way from your Land's End to our Narrows , and it ne- 
 ver could overhaul me." 
 
 **And I presume the porpoises give it up in despair, don't 
 they? " replied old Tom, with a leer ; and yet I've seen the crea- 
 tures playing across the bows of an English frigate at her speed, 
 and laughing at her.'* 
 
 *' They never play their tricks with me, old snapper; if they do, 
 I cuts them in halves , and a-starn they go , • head part floating on 
 one side , and tail part on the other." 
 
 *'But don't they join together again when they meet in your 
 wake?" inquired Tom. 
 
 * ' Shouldn't wonder ," replied the American captain, 
 
 **Pray, captain, what may be that vessel they talk so much 
 about at New York?" Old Tom referred to the first steam vessel, 
 whose qualities at that time had been tried, and an exaggerated 
 report of which had been copied from the American papers. 
 **That ship, or whatever she may be, that sails without masts, 
 yards, or canvass ; it's quite above my comprehension." 
 
 ** Old country heads can't take it in. I'll tell you what — she 
 goes slick through the water, a-head or a-starn , broadside on, or 
 up or down , or any way ; and all you have to do is to poke the fire 
 and warm your fingers ; and the more you poke , the faster she 
 goes, Against wind and tide." 
 
 ** Well, I must see that, to believe it, though," replied old Tom. 
 
 **No fear of a capsize, I calculate. My little craft did upset 
 with me one night, in a pretty considerable heavy gal; but she *s 
 smart, and came up again on the other side in a moment, all right 
 as before. Never should have known any thing about it , if the man 
 at the wheel had not found his jacket wet , and the men below had a 
 round turn in all the clues of their hammocks." 
 
 After that round turn, you may belay," cried young Tom, 
 laughing. 
 
 *' Yes , but don't let 's have a stopper over all , Tom ," replied 
 his father. **I consider all this excessively diva r ting. Pray, 
 captain , does every thing else g Cast in the new country?" 
 
145 
 
 Every thing with us clean slick, I guess." 
 
 **What sort of horses have you in America?" inquired I. 
 
 *'Our Kentucky horses, I've a notion, would surprise you. 
 They're almighty goers, at a trot, beat a N.W. gal of wind. I once 
 took an Englishman with me in a gig up Allibama country , and he 
 says, *What 's this great churchyard we are passing through?' 
 * And stranger,' says I, * I calculate it's nothing but the milestones, 
 we are passing so s 1 i c k.' But I once had a horse , who , I expect, 
 was a deal quicker than that. I once seed a flash of lightning chase 
 him for half an hour round the clearance , and I guess it couldn't 
 catch him. But I can't wait no longer. I expect you'll come along- 
 side to-morrow afore meridian." 
 
 **Ay, ay, master," replied old Tom , tuning up. 
 
 "'Twas post meridian, half-past four, 
 By signal I from Nancy parted, 
 At five she lingered on the shore, 
 With uplift eyes and broken-hearted." 
 
 **I calculate you are no fool of a screamer," said the American, 
 shoving off his boat from the barge , and pulling to his vessel. 
 
 And I calculate you're no fool of a liar," said young Tom, 
 laughing. 
 
 ** Well , so he is ; but I do like a good lie , Jacob , there 's some 
 fun in it. But what the devil does the fellow mean by calling a gale 
 of wind — a gal?" 
 
 **I don't know," replied Tom, **\2nless for the same reason 
 that we call a girl — a blowing." 
 
 Our conversation was here interrupted by Mr. Hodgson, the 
 new head clerk, of whom I have hitherto said nothing. He came 
 into the establishment in the place of Mr. Tomkins , when we 
 quitted the Battersea wharf, and had taken an evident dislike to 
 me, which appeared to increase every day, as Mr. Drummond gave 
 me fresh marks of his approbation. You , Faithful , come out of 
 that barge directly, and go to your desk. I will have no eye-servers 
 under me. Come out, Sir, directly." 
 
 I say, Mr. Quilldriver ," cried old Tom , do you mean for to 
 say that Jacob is an eye-sarver?" 
 
 Jacob FaithfuL \ 0 
 
146 
 
 Yes, I do : and want none of your impertinence, or I'll unship 
 you, you old blackguard/' 
 
 ''Well , then , for the first part of your story, my sarvice to you, 
 and you lies ; and as for the second, that remains to be proved." 
 
 Mr. Hodgson's temper was not softened by this reply of old 
 Tom. My blood was also up , for I had borne much already ; and 
 young Tom was bursting with impatience to take my part. He 
 walked carelessly by the head-clerk, saying to me as he passed by, 
 *'WhyI thought, Jacob, you were 'prentice to the river; but it 
 seems that you 're bound to the counting-house. How long do you 
 mean to sarve?" 
 
 ''I don't know," repliedl, as I walked away sulkily ; **butl 
 wish I was out of my time." 
 
 ** Very well. Sir, I shall report your behaviour to Mr. Drum- 
 mond. I'll make him know your tricks." 
 
 *' Tricks! you won't let him know his tricks. His duty is to 
 take his trick at the wheel ," replied old Tom ; '* not to be brought 
 up at your cheating tricks at the desk." 
 
 ''Cheating tricks, you old scoundrel, what do you mean by 
 that? " replied Mr. Hodgson , in a rage. 
 
 "My father means ledgerdemain, I suppose," replied young 
 Tom. 
 
 This repartee from a quarter so little expected, sent off the 
 head-clerk more wroth than ever. 
 
 *'You seemed to hit him hard there, Tom," said his father; 
 "but I can't say that I understand how." 
 
 "You 've had me taught to read and write, father," replied 
 young Tom ; "and a'ter that , a lad may teach himself every thing. 
 I pick up every day , here and there ; and I never see a thing or a 
 word that I don 't understand, but I find out the meaning when I 
 can. I picked up that hard word at Bartlemy fair." 
 
 " And very hard you hit him with it." 
 
 "Who wouldn't, to serve a friend? But mark my words, 
 father, this won't last long. There 's a squall blowing up, and 
 Jacob , quiet as he seems to be , will show his teeth ere long." 
 
 Tom was correct in his surmise. I had not taken my seat at 
 my desk more than a minute, when Mr. Hodgson entered, and 
 
147 
 
 commenced a tirade of abuse, which my pride could no longer 
 allow me to submit to. An invoice, perfectly correct and well 
 written, which I had nearly completed, he snatched from before 
 me, tore into fragments, and ordered me to write it over again. 
 Indignant at this treatment, I refused, and throwing down my pen, 
 looked him determinedly in the face. Irritated at this defiance , he 
 caught up a directory , and threw at my head. No longer able to 
 command myself, I seized a ruler and returned the salute. It was 
 whizzing through the air as Mr, Drummond entered the room ; and 
 he was just in time to witness Mr. Hodgson struck on the forehead 
 and felled to the ground, while I remained with my arm raised, 
 standing upon the cross-bar of my high stool , my face glowing 
 with passion. 
 
 Appearances were certainly against me. Assistance was sum- 
 moned, and the head-clerk removed to his chamber, during all 
 which time I remained seated on my stool before the desk , my 
 breast heaving wit/i tumultuous feelings. How long I remained 
 there I cannot siy, it might have been two hours; feelings long 
 dormant had been aroused, and whirled round and round in a con- 
 tinual cycle in my feverish brain. I should have remained probably 
 much longer in this state of absorption , had I not been summoned 
 to attend Mr, Drummond. It appeared that in the mean time , Mr. 
 Hodgson had come to his own senses , and had given his own ver- 
 sion of the fracas, which had been to an unjustifiable degree corro- 
 borated by the stupid young clerk, who was no friend of mine, and 
 who sought favour with his principal. I walked up to the drawing- 
 room , where I found Mr. and Mrs. Drummond , and little Sarah, 
 whose eyes were red with crying. I entered without any feeling of 
 alarm, my breast was too full of indignation. Mrs. Drummond 
 looked grave and mournful , Mr. Drummond severe. 
 
 Jacob Faithful , I have sent for you to tell you , that in conse- 
 quence of your disgraceful conduct to my senior clerk , you can no 
 longer remain under my roof. It appears that what I have been a 
 witness to , this day , has been but a sequel to behaviour equally 
 improper , and impertinent ; that so far from having , as I thought, 
 done your duty , you have constantly neglected it ; and that the 
 association you have formed with that drunken old man and his 
 
 10* 
 
148 
 
 insolent son , has led you into this folly. You may say that it was 
 not your wish to remain on shore , and that you preferred being on 
 the river. At your age , it is too often the case that young people 
 consult their wishes rather than their interests ; and it is well for 
 them if they find those who are older , and wish them well , to de- 
 cide for them. I had hoped to have been able to place you in a 
 more respectable situation in society, than was my original inten- 
 tion when you were thrown upon me a destitute orphan ; but I now 
 perceive my error. You have proved yourself not only deceitful 
 but ingrateful." 
 
 " I have not interrupted I , calmly. 
 You have. I have been a witness myself to your impropriety 
 of conduct , which it appears has long beta concealed from me ; 
 but no more of that. I bound you apprentice to the river , and you 
 must now follow up your apprenticeship; but expect nothing 
 farther from me. You must now work your own way up in the 
 world , and I trust that you will reform and do veil. You may re- 
 turn to the lighter until I can procure you a situation in another 
 craft, for I consider it my duty to remove you from the influence 
 of those who have led you astray , and with the old man and his 
 son you shall not remain. I have one thing more to say. You have 
 been in my counting-house for some months, and ycu are now 
 about to be thrown upon the world. There are ten pounds for your 
 services ^ (and Mr. Drummond laid the money on the table). 
 ** You may also recollect that I have some money belonging to you, 
 which has been laid by until you shall be out of your apprentice- 
 ship. I consider it my duty still to retain that money for you; as 
 soon as yoUr apprenticeship is expired , you may demand it , and 
 it shall be made over to you. I trust , sincerely trust , Jacob, that 
 the severe lesson you are now about to receive , will bring you to a 
 sense of what is right , and that you will forget the evil counsel you 
 have received from your late companions. Do not attempt to 
 justify yourself, it is useless." Mr. Drummond then rose , and 
 left the room. 
 
 I should have replied , had it not been for this last sentence of 
 Mr. Drummond's , which again roused the feelings of indignation, 
 which , in their presence , had been gradually giving way to softer 
 
149 
 
 emotions. I therefore stood still, and firmly met the glance of 
 Mr. Drummond , as he passed me. My looks were construed into 
 hardness of heart. 
 
 It appeared that Mr. Drummond had left the room by previous 
 arrangement , that he might not be supposed to be moved from his 
 purpose , and that Mrs. Drummond was then to have talked to me, 
 and to have ascertained how far there was a chance of my pleading 
 guilty , and begging for a mitigation of my sentence ; but the firm 
 composure of innocence was mistaken for defiance ; and the blood 
 mounting to my forehead from a feeling of injustice — of injustice 
 from those I loved and venerated — perhaps the most poignant 
 feeling in existence to a sensitive and generous mind — was falsely 
 estimated as proceeding from impetuous and disgraceful sources. 
 Mrs. Drummond looked upon me with a mournful face, sighed, 
 and said nothing; little Sarah watching me with her large black 
 eyes , as if she would read my inmost soul. 
 
 **Have you nothing to say, Jacob," at last observed Mrs. 
 Drummond, **that I can tell Mr. Drummond when his anger is 
 not so great?" 
 
 ** Nothing , madam ," replied I , ** except that I 'II try to forgive 
 him." 
 
 This reply was offensive even to the mild Mrs. Drummond. 
 She rose from her chair. "Come, Sarah," said she: and she 
 walked out of the room , wishing me , in a kind , soft voice , a 
 ** good bye, Jacob," as she passed me. 
 
 My eyes swam with tears. I tried to return the salutation , but 
 I was too much choked by my feelings ; I could not speak , and my 
 silence was again looked upon as contumacy and ingratitude. 
 Little Sarah still remained — she had not obeyed her mother's in- 
 junctions to follow her. She was now nearly fourteen years old, 
 and I had known her as a companion and a friend for five years. 
 During the last six months that I had resided in the house , we had 
 become more intimately acquainted. I joined her in the evening 
 in all her pursuits , and Mr. and Mrs. Drummond appeared to lake 
 a pleasure in oyr intimacy. I loved her as a dear sister; my love 
 was based on gratitude. I had never forgotten her kindness to me 
 when I first came under her father's roof, and a long acquaintance 
 
150 
 
 with the sweetness of her disposition had rendered the attachment 
 so firm, that I felt I could have died for her. But I never knew the 
 full extent of the feeling until now that I was about to leave her, 
 perhaps for ever. My heart sank when Mr. Drummond left the 
 room — a bitter pang passed through it as the form of Mrs. Drum- 
 mond vanished from my sight; but now was to be the bitterest of 
 all. I felt it, and I remained with -the handle of the door in my 
 hand, gasping for breath — blinded with the tears that coursed 
 each other rapidly down my cheeks. I remained a minute in this 
 state , when I felt that Sarah touched my other listless hand. 
 
 '* Jacob ! " she would have said , but before half my name was 
 out, she burst into tears , and sobbed on my shoulder. My heart 
 was too much surcharged not to take the infection — my grief found 
 vent, and I mingled my sobs with those of the affectionate girl. 
 When we were more composed , I recounted to her all that had 
 passed, and one, at least in the world acknowledged that I had 
 been treated unjustly. I had but just finished , when the servant 
 interrupted us with a message to Sarah, that her mother desired 
 her presence. She threw herself into my arms, and bade me 
 farewell. When I released her, she hastened to obey her mother, 
 but perceiving the money still upon the table, she pointed to it, 
 ** Your money, Jacob!" 
 
 **No, Sarah, 1 will not accept it. I would accept of any thing 
 from those who treat me kindly, and feel more and more grateful 
 to them ; but that I will not accept — I cannot, and you must not 
 let it be left here. Say that I could not take it..*' 
 
 Sarah would have remonstrated, but perceiving that I was firm, 
 and at the same time , perhaps , entering into my feelings , she 
 again bade me farewell, and hastened away. 
 
 The reader may easily imagine that I did not put off my depar-« 
 ture. I hastened to pack up my clothes , and in less than ten mi- 
 nutes after Sarah had quitted me , I was on board the lighter, with 
 old Tom and his son , who were then going to supper. They knew 
 a part of what had happened , and I narrated the rest. 
 
 *'Well," replied old Tom , after I had finished my story, **I 
 don*t know that I have done you any harm , Jacob , and I 'm sorry 
 that Mr. Drummond should suppose so. I 'm fond of a drop, that's 
 
151 
 
 true ; but I appeals to you , whether I ever force it on you — and 
 whether I don't check that boy as much as I can ; but then , d'ye 
 see , although I preach, I don't practise , that *s the worst of it; 
 and I know I 've to answer for making Tom so fond of grog; and 
 though I never says any thing about it, I often think to myself 
 that if Tom should chance to be pressed some of these days, and 
 be punished for being in liquor, he '11 think of his old father, and 
 curse him in his heart, when he eyes the cat flourishing round be- 
 fore it strikes." 
 
 '*I'll curse the cat, father, or the boatswain's mate, or the 
 officer who complained of me, or the captain who flogs me, or my 
 own folly, but I '11 be hanged if ever I curse you, who have been 
 so kind to me ," replied Tom , taking his father's hand. 
 
 *' Well, we must hope for the best, my dear boy," replied 
 old Tom; '*but, Jacob, you've not had fair play , that's sartain. 
 It 's very true, that master did take you as an orphan , and help you 
 to an education ; but that 's no reason why he should take away 
 your free will , and after binding you 'prentice to the river, perch 
 you up on a high stool , and grind your nose down to the desk. If 
 so be he was so kind to you only to make you a slave , why then 
 there was no kindness at all in my opinion ; and as for punishment 
 without hearing what a man has to say in his own defence — there 's 
 ne'er a Tartar in the sarvice but would alloy/ a man to speak before 
 he orders him to strip. I recollect a story about that in the sarvice, 
 but I 'm in no humour to spin a yarn now. Now you see , Jacob, 
 Master Drummond has done a great deal for you, and now he has 
 undone a great deal. I can't pretend to balance the account, but 
 it does appear to me that you don't owe him much ; for what 
 thanks is there if you take a vessel in tow, and then cast her off, 
 halfway, when she most needs your assistance? But what hurts 
 me most , is his saying that you sha'n't stay in the lighter with us ; 
 if you had , you shouldn't have wanted , as long as pay and pension 
 are forthcoming. Never mind — Tom , my boy , bring cut the 
 bottle — hang care : it killed the cat." 
 
 The grog did not , however , bring back old Tom's spirits ; the 
 evening passed heavily, and we retired to our beds at a seasonable 
 
152 
 
 hour, as we were to drop down to the schooner early the next 
 morning. That night I did not close my eyes. I ran over , in my 
 mind , all that had occurred , and indignation took full possession 
 of my soul. My whole life passed in review before me. I travelled 
 back to my former days — to the time which had been almost 
 obliterated from my memory , when I had navigated the barge with 
 my father. Again was the scene of his and my mother's death pre- 
 sented to my view ; again I saw him disappear , and the column of 
 black smoke ascend to the sky. The Domine, the matron, Marables, 
 and Fleming, the scene in the cabin — all passed in rapid succes- 
 sion. I felt that I had done my duty , and that I had been unjustly 
 treated ; my head ached with tumultuous and long suppressed feel- 
 ings. Keader, I stated that when I was first taken in hand by Mr, 
 Drummond I was a savage , although a docile one , to be reclaimed 
 by kindness, and kindness only. You may have been surprised 
 at the rapid change which took place in a few years; that change 
 was produced by kindness. The conduct of Mr. Drummond, of 
 his amiable wife and daughter, had been all kindness ; the Domine 
 and the worthy old matron had proved equally beneficent. Mara- 
 bles had been kind; and, although now and then, as in the case 
 of the usher at the school , and Fleming on board the lighter , I 
 had received injuries , still , these were but trifling checks to the 
 uninterrupted series of kindness with which I had been treated by 
 every body. Thus was my nature rapidly formed by a system of 
 kindness assisted by education ; and had this been followed up, in 
 a few years my new character would have been firmly established* 
 But the blow was now struck , injustice roused up the latent feel- 
 ings of my nature, and when I rose the next morning I was 
 changed. I do not mean to say that all that precept and education 
 had done for me was overthrown ; but if not overthrown , it was so 
 shaken to the base , so rent from the summit to the foundation, 
 that, at the slightest impulse , in a wrong direction , it would have 
 fallen in and left nothing but a mixed chaos of ruined prospects. 
 If any thing could hold it together , it was the kindness and affec- 
 tion of Sarah , to which I would again and again return in my re- 
 volving thoughts , as the only and bright star to be discovered in 
 my clouded horizon. 
 
153 
 
 How dangerous , how foolish , how presumptuous , is it in 
 adults to suppose that they can read the thoughts and the feehngs 
 of those of a tender age ! How often has this presumption, on their 
 part, been the ruin of a young mind, which, if truly estimated 
 and duly fostered, would have blossomed and produced good 
 fruit! The blush of honest indignation is as dark as the blush of 
 guilt — and the paleness of concentrated courage as marked as 
 that of fear — the firmness of conscious innocence is but too often 
 mistaken as the effrontery of hardened vice — and the tears spring- 
 ing from a source of injury, the tongue tied from the oppression 
 of a wounded heart, the trembling and agitation of the little frame 
 convulsed with emotion , have often and often been ascribed by 
 prejudging and self-opinionated witnesses, to the very opposite 
 passions to those which have produced them. Youth should never 
 be judged harshly, and even when judged correctly, should it be 
 in an e\il course, may always be reclaimed; — those who decide 
 otherwise, and leave it to drift about the world, have to answer 
 for the cast-away. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The breach -widened. — I turn sportsman , poacher, and desperado. — 
 Some excellent notions propounded of common law upon common 
 rights. — The common keeper uncommonly savage. — I warn him 
 ofiF. — He prophesies that we shall both come to the galloAvs. — Some 
 men are prophets in their own country. — The man right after all. 
 
 ** Hollo! in the lighter there — I say, you lighter boy!" 
 were the words I heard, as I was pacing the deck of the vessel in deep 
 cogitation. Tom and his father were both in the cabin ; there could 
 be no doubt but that they were addressed to me. I looked up and 
 perceived the grinning, stupid, sneering face of the young clerk, 
 Gubbins. *' Why don't you answer when you're called to , heh?" 
 continued the numscull. You're wanted up here! come up di- 
 rectly.!' 
 
 *' Who wants me?" replied I, reddening with anger. 
 
 What's that to you? Do you mean to obey my order or not?" 
 *'No, I do not," replied I; **rm not under the orders of 
 such a fool thank God; and if you come within my reach, 
 
104 
 
 rii try if I can't break your head , thick as it is , as well as your 
 master's." 
 
 The lout disappeared , and I continued to pace up and down. 
 
 As I afterwards discovered, the message was from Mrs. Drum- 
 mond, who requested to speak tome. Sarah liad communicated 
 the real facts of my case, and Mrs. Drummond had been convinced 
 lliat what I had said was correct. She had talked with her hus- 
 band ; she pointed out to him that my conduct under Mr. Tomkins 
 had been so exemplary, that there must have been some reason for 
 so sudden a change- Sarah had gone down into tlie counting- 
 house , and obtained the invoice which the senior clerk had lorn 
 up. The correctness of it established the fact of one part of my 
 assertions , and that nothidg but malice could have warranted its 
 having been destroyed. Mr. Drummond felt more than he chose 
 to acknowledge ; he was now aware that he had been too precipi- 
 tate; even my having refused the money assumed a different 
 appearance ; he was puzzled and mortified. Few people like to 
 acknowledge that they have been in error. Mr. Drummond there- 
 fore left his wife to examine further into the matter, and gave 
 her permission to send for me. The message given, and the re- 
 sults of it, have been stated. The answer returned was, that I 
 would not come, and that I had threatened to break the clerk's 
 head as well as that of Mr. Drummond ; for although the scoundrel 
 knew very well that in making use of the word *' master I refer- 
 red to the senior clerk, he thought it proper to substitute that of 
 Mr. Drummond. The effect of this reply may easily be imagined. 
 Sarah was astonished , Mrs. Drummond shocked , and Mr. Drum- 
 mond was almost pleased to find that he could not have been in the 
 wrong. Thus was the breach made even wider than before , and 
 all communication broken off. Much depends in this world upon 
 messages being correctly given. 
 
 In half an hour we had hauled out of the tier and dropped down 
 to .the American schooner, to take out a cargo of flour, which old 
 Tom had directions to land at the Battersea wharf; so that I was, 
 for the time, removed from the site of my misfortune. I cannot 
 say that I felt happy , but I certainly felt glad that I was away. 
 I was reckless to a degree that was insupportable. I had a heavy 
 
155 
 
 load on my mind which I could not sjiake off — a prey upon my 
 spirits — a disgust at almost every thing. How well do I recollect 
 with what different feelings I looked upon the few books which Mr. 
 Drummond and the Domine had given me to amuse my leisure 
 hours. I turned from them with contempt, and thought I would 
 never open them again. I felt as if all ties on shore were now cut 
 off, and that I was again wedded to the Thames; my ideas, my 
 wishes , extended no farther, and I surveyed the river and its busy 
 scene , as I did before I had been taken aw ay from it , as if ail my 
 energies , all my prospects , were , in future , to be bounded by 
 its shores. In the course of four- and -twenty hours , a revulsion 
 Bad taken place , which again put me on the confines of barbarism. 
 
 My bargemates were equally dull as I was ; they were too par- 
 tial to me, and had too much of kindness of heart, not to feel my 
 situation, and anger at the injustice with which I had been treated. 
 Employment, however, for a time relieved our melancholy 
 thoughts. Our cargo was on board of the lighter, and we were 
 again tiding it through the bridges. 
 
 Wo dropped our anchor above Putney Bridge a little after 
 twelve o'clock, and young Tom, with the wish of amusing me, 
 proposed that we should go "on shore and walk. **Ah! do, my 
 lads, do — it will do you good, Jacob; no use moping here a 
 whole tide. I '11 take care of the 'barkey. Mind you make the 
 boat well fast, and take the skulls into the public -house there. 
 I '11 have the supper under weigh when you come back , and then 
 we '11 have a night on't. It's a poor heart that never rejoices ; and, 
 Tom, take a bottle on shore, get it filled, and bring it off with 
 you. Here's the money. But I say, Tom , honour bright." 
 
 ** Honour bright, father;" and to do Tom justice , he always 
 kept his promise, especially after the w ord had passed of *' honour 
 bright." Had there been gallons of spirits under his charge he 
 would not have tasted a drop after that pledge. 
 
 **Haul up the boat, Jacob, quick," said Tom, as his father 
 went into the cabin to fetch an empty bottle. Tom hastened down 
 below forward, and brought up an old gun, which he put under 
 the stern sheets before his father came out on the deck. We then 
 
156 
 
 received the bottle from him, and Tom called out for the dog 
 Tommy. 
 
 "Why, you're not going to take the dog. What's the use of 
 that? I want him here to keep watch with me said old Tom. 
 
 ** Pooh ! father ; why can't you let the poor devil have a run on 
 shore? He wants to eat grass , I 'm sure , for I have watched him 
 this day or two. We shall be back before dark." 
 
 **Well, well, just as you please, Tom." Tommy jumped 
 into the boat , and away we went. 
 
 ''And now, Tom, what are you after?" said I, as soon as 
 we were ten yards from the lighter. 
 
 "A 'ter , Jacob , going to have a little shooting on Wimbledon 
 Common ; but father can't bear to see a gun in my hand , because 
 I once shot my old mother. I did pepper her , sure enough; her 
 old flannel petticoat was full of shot, but it was so thick that it 
 saved her. Are you any thing of a shot? " 
 
 ''Never fired a gun in my life." 
 
 "Well, then, we'll fire in turns, and toss up, if you like, 
 fbr first shot." 
 
 We landed , carried the sculls up to the public-house , and 
 left the bottle to be filled , and then , with Tommy bounding be- 
 fore us , and throwing about his bushy tail with delight , ascended 
 Putney Hill , and arrived at the Green Man public-house , at the 
 corner of Wimbledon Common. "I wonder where green men are 
 to be found?" observed Tom, laughing; "I suppose they live in 
 the same country with the blue dogs my father speaks about 
 sometimes. Now, then, it 's time to load." 
 
 The bowl of a tobacco-pipe full of powder was then inserted, 
 with an equal dose of shot, and all being ready, we were soon 
 among the furze. A halfpenny decided it was my first shot, and 
 fate further decided that a water-wagtail should be the mark, I 
 took good aim, as I thought, at least I took sufficient time, fori 
 followed him with the muzzle of the gun for three or four minutes 
 at least , as he ran to and fro ; at last I fired , Tommy barked w ith 
 delight, and the bird flew away. "I think I must have hit it," 
 said I , "I saw it wag its tail." 
 
157 
 
 *'More proof of a miss than a hit replied Tom. **Had you 
 hit it, he 'd never have wagged his tail again." 
 
 *' Never mind," said I, "better luck next time." 
 
 Tom then knocked a blackbird off a furze bush , and loading 
 the gun, handed it to me. I was more successful than before; 
 a cock sparrow three yards distant, yielded to the prowess of my 
 arm , and I never felt more happy in my life , than in this first 
 successful attempt at murder. 
 
 Gaily did we trudge over the common , sometimes falling in 
 with gravel-pits half full of water, at athers bogs and swampy 
 plains , which obliged us to make a circuit. The gun was fired 
 again and again ; but our game-bag did not fill very fast. However, 
 if we were not quite so well pleased when we missed as when we 
 hit, Tommy was, every shot being followed up with a dozen 
 bounds, and half a minute's barking. At last we began to feel 
 tired, and agreed to repose a while in a cluster of furze bushes. 
 We sat down , pulled out our game , and spread it in a row before 
 us. It consisted of two sparrows , one greenfinch , one blackbird, 
 and three tomtits. All of a sudden we heard a rustling in the furze, 
 and then a loud squeal. It was the dog, who scenting something, 
 had forced his way into the bush , and had caught a hare , which 
 having been wounded in the loins by some other sportsman, had 
 dragged itself there to die. In a minute we had taken possession 
 of it, much to the annoyance of Tommy, who seemed to consider 
 that there was no copartnership in the concern , and would not 
 surrender his prize until after sundry admonitory kicks. When 
 we had fairly beaten him off we were in an ecstacy of delight. We 
 laid the animal out between us , and were admiring it from the ear 
 to the tip of his tail, when we were suddenly saluted with a voice 
 close to us. Oh ! you blam 'd young poachers , so I 've caught 
 you, have I?" We looked up and beheld the common -keeper. 
 '*Come — come along with me; we 've a nice clink at Wands- 
 worth to lock you up in. I 've been looking a'rter you some time. 
 Hand your gun here." 
 
 *' I should rather think not," replied 1. The gun belongs to 
 us and not to you ; " and I caught up the gun , and presented the 
 muzzle at him. 
 
158 
 
 **What! do you mean to commit murder? Why, you young 
 villains!" 
 
 *'Do you mean to commit a robbery?'* retorted I, fiercely; 
 ** because if you do, I mean to commit murder. Shall I shoot 
 him, Tom?" 
 
 **No, Jacob, no; you mustn't shoot men," replied Tom, 
 who perceived that I was in a humour to keep my word with the 
 common-keeper. **Indeed you can't," continued he, whispering 
 tome, '* the gun's not loaded." 
 
 "Do you mean to refuse to give me up your gun?" repeated 
 the man. 
 
 "Yes, I do," replied I, cocking the lock , "so keep off." 
 
 " Oh ! you young reprobates — you 'U come to the gallows be- 
 fore long, that's certain. Then do you refuse to come with me?" 
 
 "I should rather think we do ," replied I. 
 
 "You refuse, do you? Recollect I 've caught you in the fact, 
 poaching., with a dead hare in your possession." 
 
 "Well, it 's no use crying about it. What 's done can't be 
 helped ," replied I. 
 
 "Don't you know that all the game, and all the turf, and all 
 the bog, and all the gravel, and all the furze on this common, 
 belong to the Right Honourable Earl Spencer? " 
 
 "And all the blackbirds, and all the greenfinches, and all 
 the sparrows, and all the tomtits too , I suppose?" replied I. 
 
 "To be sure they do — and I 'm common-keeper. Now you'll 
 give me up that hare immediately." 
 
 "Look you," replied Tom, "we didn't kill that hare, the dog 
 caught it, and it is his property. We sha'n't interfere in the 
 matter. If Tommy chooses to let you have it, well and good. 
 Here , Tommy, this here gentleman says ," (and Tom pointed to 
 the keeper), "that this hare," (and Tom pointed to the hare), 
 •'is not yours ; now will you ' watch it ,' or let him have it? " 
 
 At the word * watch it,' Tommy laid down with his fore-paws 
 over the hare , and showing a formidable set of ivories , looked 
 fiercely at the man , and growled. 
 
 "You see what he says : now you may do as you please," con- 
 tinued Tom , addressing the man. 
 
159 
 
 Yes — very well — you *11 come to the gallows , I see that ; 
 but I 'Jl just go and fetch half a dozen men to help me, and then 
 we '11 have you both in gaol." 
 
 "Then, be smart,'* replied I, jumping up and levelling the 
 gun. Tommy jumped up also to fly at the man , but Tom caught 
 him by the neck , and restrained him. The common-keeper took 
 to his heels, and as soon as he was out of gun-shot, turned round, 
 shook his list, and then hastened away to obtain the reinforcement 
 he desired. 
 
 '* I wish the gun had been loaded said I. 
 
 **Why, Jacob, what *s come over you? Would you have fired at 
 him? The man is only doing his duty — we have no business here." 
 
 **I think otherwise," replied I. *'A hare on a common is 
 as much mine as Lord Spen'cer's. A common belongs to every 
 body." 
 
 ** That 's my opinion, too; but, nevertheless, if he gets hold 
 of us , he '11 have us in gaol ; and therefore I propose we make off 
 as fast as we can in the opposite way to which he is gone." 
 
 •We started accordingly, and as the keeper proceeded in the 
 direction of Wandsworth , we took the other direction ; but it so 
 happened, that on turning round, after a quarter of an hour's 
 walk, we perceived the man coming back with three or four others. 
 **We must run for it," cried Tom, **and then hide ourselves." 
 After ten minutes' hard run we descended into a hollow and 
 swampy place, looking round to see if they could perceive us, 
 and finding that they were not in sight, we plunged into a thick 
 cluster of furze bushes , which completely concealed us. Tommy 
 followed us, and there we lay. **Now they never will find us," 
 said Tom , * * if I can only keep the dog quiet. Lie down, Tommy. 
 Watch , and lie down." The dog appeared to understand what 
 was required ; he lay between us perfectly still. 
 
 We had remained there about half an hour when we heard 
 voices. I motioned to Tom to give me the powder to load the gun, 
 but he refused. The voices came nearer; Tommy gave a low 
 growl. Tom held his mouth with his hands. At last they were 
 close to the bushes, and we heard the common -keeper say, 
 "They never went over the hill, that's for certain, the little 
 
160 
 
 wagrants ; they can't be far off — they must be down in the hollow. 
 Come along.'* 
 
 **But I 'm blessed if I 'm not up to my knees in the bog," cried 
 oneofthemen; * Til not go further down, dang me if I do." 
 
 Well, then, let's try the side of the bog," replied the keeper, 
 I'll show you the way." And the voices retreated, fortunately 
 Ibr us, for there had been a continual struggle between us and the 
 dog for the last minute, I holding his fore-paws, and Tom jam- 
 ming up his mouth. We were now all quiet again, but dare not 
 leave our hiding-place. 
 
 We remained there for half an hour , when it became nearly 
 dark, and the sky, which had been quite clear, when we set out, 
 clouded over, Tom put up his head , looked all round, and per- 
 ceiving nobody, proposed that we should return as fast as we 
 could , to which I agreed. But we were scarcely clear of the furze 
 in which we had been concealed , when a heavy fall of snow com- 
 menced, which, with the darkness, prevented us from distin- 
 guishing our way. Every minute the snow-storm increased, the 
 wind rose, and hurled the flakes into our faces until we w.ere 
 blinded. Still we made good way against it, and expected every 
 minute to be on the road, after which our task would be easy. On 
 we walked in silence , I carrying the gun , Tom with the hare over 
 his shoulder, and Tommy at our heels. For upwards of an hour 
 did we tread our way through the furze , but could find no road. 
 Above us all was dark as pitch ; the wind howled ; our clothes were 
 loaded with snow ; and we began to feel no inconsiderable degree 
 of fatigue. 
 
 Atlast, quite tired out, we stopped. **Tom," saidi, *^rm 
 sure we've not kept a straight course. The wind was on our star- 
 board side , and our clothes were flaked with snow on that side, 
 and now you see we've got it on our quarter. What the devil shall 
 we do?" 
 
 We must go on till we fall in with something, at all events ," 
 replied Tom. 
 
 **And I expect that will be a gravel-pit," replied I; **but 
 never mind, * better luck next time.' I only wish I had that rascal 
 of a common-keeiier here. Suppose we turn back again, and keep 
 
161 
 
 the wind on the starboard side of us^s before ; we must pitch upon 
 something at last." 
 
 We did so, but our difficulties increased every moment; we 
 floundered in the bogs , we tumbled over the stumps of the cut 
 furze, and had I not caught hold of Tom as he w^as sliding down, 
 he would have been at the bottom of a gravel-pit. This obliged us 
 to alter our course , and we proceeded for a quarter of an hour in 
 another direction, until, worn out with cold and fatigue, we began 
 to despair. 
 
 **This will never do, Tom," said I, as the wind rose and 
 roared with double fury. * * I think we had better get into the furze, 
 and wait till the storm is over." 
 
 Tom's teeth chattered with the cold ; but before he could reply, 
 they chattered with fear. Wc heard a loud scream overhead. 
 
 What was that? " cried he. I confess that I was as much alarmed 
 as Tom. The scream was repeated, and it had an unearthly sound. 
 It was no human voice — it was between a scream and a creak. 
 Again it was repeated, and carried along with the gale. I mustered 
 up courage sufficient to look up to where the sound proceeded 
 from; but the darkness was so intense, and the snow blinded me 
 so completely, that I could see nothing. Again and again did the 
 dreadful sound ring in our ears, and we remained fixed and mo- 
 tionless with horror; even the dog crouched at our feet trembling. 
 We spoke not a word — neither of us moved; the gun had fallen 
 from my hand , the hare lay at Tom's feet ; we held each other's 
 hand in silence , and there we remained for more than a quarter of 
 an hour, every moment more and more sinking under the effects of 
 cold, fatigue, and horror. Fortunately for us, the storm, in 
 which , had it continued much longer , we should , in all probabi- 
 lity, have perished, was by that time over; the snow ceased to 
 fall ; the clouds were rolled away to leeward ; and a clear sky , be- 
 spangled with a thousand twinkling lights, roused us from our 
 state of bodily and mental suijering. The first object which caught 
 my eye was a post within two yards of us. I looked at it, followed 
 it up with my eyes , and , to my horror , beheld a body suspended 
 and swinging in chains over our heads. 
 
 As soon as I recovered from the shock \Yhich the first view oc- 
 
 Jacob FaithfuU \ \ 
 
162 
 
 casioned , I pointed it out to Tom , who had Dot yet moved. He 
 looked up, started back, and fell over the dog — jumped up agaiu, 
 and burst out into as loud a laugh as his frozen jaws would permit. 
 *' It's old Jerry Abershaw," said he, ''I know him well, and now 
 I know where we are." This was the case ; Abershaw had , about 
 three years before , been hung in chains on Wimbledon Common ; 
 and the unearthly sound we had heard was the creaking of the rusty 
 iron as the body was swung to and fro by the gale. All's right, 
 Jacob," said Tom, looking up at the brilliant sky, and then taking 
 up the hare, ** We'll be on the road in five minutes." I shouldered 
 the gun, and off we set. By the Lord, that rascally common - 
 keeper was right," continued Tom, as we renewed our steps ; *'he 
 prophesied we should come to the gallows before long, and so we 
 have. Well, this has been a pretty turn out. Father will be in a 
 precious stew." 
 
 Better luck next time, Tom," repliedl, it 's all owing to 
 that turf-and-bog rascal. I wish we had him here." 
 **Why, what would you do with him?" 
 
 Take down old Abershaw, and hang him up in his place, as 
 sure as my name 's Jacob. " 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Our last adventure not fatal. — Take to my grog kindly. — Grog mukes 
 me a very unkind return. — Old Tom at his yarns again. — How to put 
 your foot in a mischief, without having a hand in it. — Candidates for 
 the cat-o'-nine-tails. 
 
 We soon recovered the road , and in half an hour were at Put- 
 ney Bridge ; cold, wet, and tired, but not so bad as when we were 
 stationary under the gallows ; the quick walking restored the cir- 
 culation. Tom went in for the bottle of spirits, while I went for 
 the skulls and carried them down to tj^e boat, which was high and 
 dry, and nearly up to the thwarts with snow. When Tom joined 
 me, he appeared with two bottles under his arms. **I have taken 
 another upon tick, Jacob," said he, **for I 'm sure we want it, and 
 so will father say, when he hears our story." We launched our 
 
163 
 
 boat, and in a couple of minutes were close to the lighter, on the 
 deck of which stood old Tom. 
 
 **Boatahoy! isthatyou, lads?" criedhe. 
 
 *'Yes, father, all *s right,'* replied Tom, as we laid in our 
 oars. 
 
 Thank God! replied the old man. **Boys, boys, how you 
 frightened me ! where have you been? I thought you had met with 
 some disaster. How have I been peeping through the snow storm 
 these last two hours, watching for the boat, and I 'm as wet as a 
 shag, and as cold as charity. What has been the matter? Did 
 you bring the bottle, Tom?" 
 
 *'Yes, father; brought two, for we shall want them to-night, 
 if we go without for a week; but we must all get on dry rigging as 
 fast as possible, and then you shall have the story of our cruise." 
 
 In a few minutes we had changed our wet clothes and were 
 seated at the cabin-table, eating our supper, and narrating our 
 adventures to the old man. Tommy , poor fellow , had his shore, 
 and now lay snoring at our feet , as the bottles and pannikins were 
 placed upon the little table. 
 
 Come , Jacob , a drop will do you good," said old Tom, fill- 
 ing me one of the pannikins. *'A'terall, it *s much better being 
 snug here in this little cabin, than shivering with fear and cold 
 under old Abershaw's gallows; and Tom, you scamp, if ever you 
 go gunning again , I'll disinherit you." 
 
 ''What have you got to leave, father, except your wooden leg?^' 
 replied Tom. Your's would be but a wooden-leg-acy." 
 
 "How do you know but what I can 'post the coal?*" 
 
 "So you will, if I boil a pot o' Hatoel with your legacy — but it 
 will only be char-coal." 
 
 "Well, I believe you are aDout right, Tom; still, somehow 
 or other , the old woman always picks out a piece or two of gold 
 when I 'm rather puzzled how to raise the wind. I never keeps no 
 'count with her. If I follow my legs before she, I hope the old 
 soul will have saved something; for you know when a man goes to 
 kingdom come, his pension goes with him. However, let me 
 only hold on another five years , and then you'll not see her want; 
 will you, Tom?" 
 
 IP 
 
164 
 
 *'No, father, I '11 sell myself to the king, and stand to be 
 shot at, at a shilling a day ; and give the old woman half/' 
 
 Well, Tom, 't is but natural for a man to wish to serve his 
 country ; so here 's to you , my lad , and may you never do worse ! 
 Jacob , do you think of going on board of a man-of-war ? " 
 
 **I'd like to serve my apprenticeship first, and then I don't 
 care how soon." 
 
 **Well, my boy, you '11 meet more fair play on board of a 
 king's ship , than you have from those on shore." 
 
 ** I should hope so," replied I, bitterly. 
 
 *'And I hope to see you a man before I die, yet, Jacob. I 
 shall very soon be laid up in ordinary — my toes pain me a good 
 deal lately!" 
 
 Your toes!" cried Tom and I , both at once. 
 
 * ' Yes , boys ; you may think it odd , but sometimes I feel them 
 just as plain as if they were now on , instead of being long ago in 
 some shark's maw. At nights I has the cramp in them till it almost 
 makes me halloo out with pain. It 's a hard thing, when one has 
 lost the sarvice of his legs, that all the feelings should remain. 
 The doctor says as how it's narvous. Come, Jacob, shove in 
 your pannikin. You seem to take it more kindly than you did." 
 
 *'Yes," replied I, **I begin to like grog now." The now, 
 however, might be comprehended within the space of the last twenty- 
 four hours. My depressed spirits were raised with the stimulus, 
 and , for the time , I got rid of the eternal current of thought which 
 pressed upon my brain. 
 
 "I wonder what your old gentleman, theDomine, as you call 
 him, thought, after he gcft on shore again ," said old Tom. **He 
 seemed to be mighty cut up. I suppose you '11 give him a hail, 
 Jacob?" 
 
 ''No," replied I, '* I shall not go near him , nor any one else, 
 if I can help it. Mr. Drummond may think I wish to make it up 
 again. I 've done with the shore. I only wish I knew what is to 
 become of me ; for you know I am not to serve in the lighter with 
 you." 
 
 ''Suppose Tom and I look out for another craft, Jacob? I care 
 nothing for Mr. Drummond. He said t'other day I was a drunken 
 
165 
 
 old swab — for which, with my sarvice to him, he lies. A drunken 
 fellow is one who <?an't, for the soul of him, keep from liquor, 
 when he can get it, and who 's overtaken before he is aware of it. 
 Now that 's not the case with me ; I keep sober when there 's work 
 to be done ; and when I knows that every thing is safe under 
 hatches , and no fear of nothing, why then I gets drunk like a ra- 
 tional being, with my eyes open ^ 'cause why — 'cause I chooses." 
 
 "That 's exactly my notion of the thing," observed Tom, drain- 
 ing his pannikin, and handing it over to his father for a fresh 
 supply. 
 
 "Mind you keep to that notion, Tom, when you gets in the 
 king's sarvice , that 's all ; or you '11 be sure to have your back 
 scratched, which I understand is no joke a'ter all. Yet I do re- 
 member once , in a ship I was in , when half a dozen fellows were 
 all fighting who should be flogged." 
 
 "Pray give us that yarn, father; but before you begin, just 
 fill my pannikin. I shoved it over half an hour ago , just by w ay of 
 a hint." 
 
 "Well, then," said old Tom, pouring out some spirits into 
 Tom's pannikin, *^*it was just as follows. It was when the ship 
 was lying at anchor in Bermuda harbour, that the purser sent a 
 breaker of spirits on shore, to be taken up to some lady's house, 
 whom he was very anxious to splice , and I suppose that he found 
 a glass of grog helped the matter. Now there were about twenty 
 of the men who had liberty to go on shore to stretch their limbs — 
 little else could they do , poor fellows , for the first lieutenant 
 looked sharp after their kits , to see that they did not sell any of 
 their rigging; and as for money, we had been five years without 
 touching a farthing of pay, and I don't suppose there was a matter 
 of threepence among the men before the mast. However, liberty 's 
 liberty, a'ter all; and if they couldn't go ashore and get glorious, 
 rather than not go on shore at all — they w ent ashore , and kept 
 sober perforce. I do think , myself, it 's a very bad thing to keep 
 the seamen without a farthing for so long — for you see a man who 
 "will be very honest with a few shillings in his pocket, is often 
 tempted to help himself, just for the sake of getting a glass or two 
 of grog , and the temptation 's very great , that 's sartain , 'ticularly 
 
166 
 
 ID a hot climate., when the sun scorches you , and the very ground 
 itself is so heated , that you can hardly bear th^ naked foot to it.* 
 But to go on. The yawl was ordered on shore for the liberty men, 
 and the purser gives this breaker , which was at least half full , and 
 I dare say there might be three gallons in it, under my charge as 
 coxswain , to deliver to madam at the house. Well, as soon as 
 we landed , I shoulders the breaker , and starts with it up the hill. 
 
 " * What have you there , Tom ? ' said Bill Short. 
 
 *"What I wish I could share with you.. Bill,' says I: *it's 
 some of old Nipcheese's eighths, that he has sent on shore to 
 bowse his jib up with , with his sweetheart.' 
 
 * I *ve seen the madam ,' said Holmes to me — for you see all 
 the liberty men were walking up the hill at the same time — * and 
 I 'd rather make love to the breaker than to her. She's as fat as an 
 ox, as broad as she's long, built like a Dutch schuyt, and as 
 yellow as a nabob.' 
 
 "'But old Tummings knows what he's about,' said a Scotch 
 lad, of the name of M'AIpine; *they say she has lots of gold dust, 
 more ducks, and ingons, and more inches of water in her tank, 
 than any one on the island.' 
 
 You see, boys, Bermuda be a queer sort of place, and water 
 very scarce ; all they get there is a God-send , as it comes from 
 heaven ; and they look sharp out for the rain , which is collected in 
 large tanks, and an inch or two more of water in the tank is con- 
 sidered a great catch. I 've often heard the ladies there talking 
 after a shower : — 
 
 " * Good morning, marm. How do you do this find morning?' 
 
 * Pretty well , I tank you , marm. Charming shower hab last 
 night.' 
 
 *Yes, so all say; but me not very lucky. Cloud not came 
 over my tank. How many inches of water you get last night, 
 marm?' 
 
 " * I get good seven inches , and I tink a little bit more , which 
 make me very happy.* 
 
 * This has been corrected; the men have for some time received a 
 portion of fcheir pay on foreign stations, and this portion has been 
 greatly increased during Sir James Graham's administration. 
 
167 
 
 *Me no so lucky, marm; so help me God , me only get four 
 inches of water in my tank ; and dat noting.' 
 
 **Well, but I've been yawing again, so now to keep my 
 course. As soon as I came to the house I knocked at the door, 
 and a little black girl opens the jalousies , and put her finger to her 
 thick lips. 
 
 *No make noise ; missy sleep.* 
 * * * Where am I to put this ? ' 
 
 ' Put down there ; by-and-by I come fetch it; ' and then she 
 closed the jalousies , for fear her mistress should be woke up, and 
 she get a hiding, poor devil. So I puts the breaker down at the 
 door , and walks back to the boat again. Now you see these liberty 
 men were all by when I spoke to the girl , and seeing the liquor 
 left with no one to guard it, the temptation was too strong for them. 
 So they looked all about them, and then at one another, and 
 caught one another's meaning by the eye ; but they said nothing. 
 * I 'II have no hand in it,' at last says one , and walked away. 'Nor 
 1,' said another, and walked away too. At last all of them walked 
 away except eight , and then Bill Short walks up to the breaker and 
 says, 
 
 1 won't have no hand in it either ; ' but he gave the breaker 
 a kick , which rolls it away two or three yards from the door. 
 
 *"Nor more will I,' said Holmes , giving the breaker another 
 kick , which rolled it out in the road. So they all went on, without 
 having a hand in it, sure enough , till they had kicked the breaker 
 down the hill to the beach. Then they were at a dead stand , as no 
 one would spile the breaker. At last a black carpenter came by, 
 and they offered him a glass, if he would bore a. hole with his 
 gimlet, for they were determined to be able to swear, every one 
 of them, that they had no hand in it. Well, as soon as the 
 hole was bored , one of them borrowed a couple of little mugs from 
 a black woman , who sold beer , and then they let it run , the black 
 carpenter shoving one mug under as soon as the other was full, and 
 they drinking as fast as they could. Before they had half finished, 
 more of the liberty men came down ; I suppose they scented the 
 good stuff from above , as a shark does any thing in the water, and 
 they soon made a finish of it; and when it was all finished, they 
 
168 
 
 were all drunk , and made sail for a cruise , that they might not he 
 found too near the empty breaker. Well , a little before sunset, 
 I was sent on shore with the boat to fetch off the liberty men , and 
 the purser takes this opportunity of going ashore to see his ma- 
 dam , and the first thing he falls athwart of is his own empty 
 breaker. 
 
 " * How's this? * says he , * didn't you take this breaker up as I 
 ordered you?' 
 
 * Yes, Sir,' replied I, i I did , and gave it in charge to the little 
 black thing ; but madam was asleep , and the girl did not allow me 
 to put it inside the door.' At that he began to storm , and swore 
 that he'd find out the malefactors, as he termed the liberty men, 
 who had emptied his breaker; and away he went to the house. 
 As soon as he was gone , we got hold of the breaker, and made a 
 bull of it." 
 
 '*How did you manage that?" inquired I. 
 
 ** Why, Jacob, a bull means putting a quart or two of water 
 into a cask which has had spirits in it ; and what with the little that 
 may be left, and what has soaked in the wood, if you roll it and 
 shake it well , it generally turns out pretty fair grog. At all events 
 it 's always better than nothing. Well , to go on , — but suppose 
 we fill up again and take a fresh departure , as this is a tolerable 
 long yarn , and I must wet the threads , or they may chance to 
 break." 
 
 Our pannikins , which had been empty , were all replenished, 
 and then old Tom proceeded. 
 
 **It was a long while before we could pick up the liberty men, 
 who were reeling about every corner of the town , and quite dark 
 before I came on board. The first lieutenant was on deck, and had 
 no occasion to ask me why I waited so long , when he found they 
 were all lying in the stern sheets. * Where the devil could they 
 have ,picked up the liquor?' said he, and then he ordered the 
 master-at-arms to keep them under the half-deck till they were 
 sober. The next morning the purser comes off, and makes his 
 complaint on the quarter-deck , as how somebody had stolen his 
 liquor. The first lieutenant reports to the captain , and the captain 
 orders up all the men who came off tipsy. 
 
169 
 
 I 
 
 Which of you took the liquor?' said he. They all swore 
 that they had no hand in it. * Then how did you get tipsy? Come 
 now, Mr. Short, answer me; you came off beastly drunk — who 
 gave you the liquor?' 
 
 *' * A black fellow, Sir,* replied Short; which was true enough, 
 as the mugs were tilled by the black carpenter, and handed by him. 
 
 Well , they all swore the same, and then the captain got into a 
 rage , and ordered them all to be put down on the report. The next 
 day the hands were turned up for punishment, and the captain 
 said , ' Now, my lads , if you won 't tell who stole the purser's grog, 
 I will flog you all round. I only want to flog those who committed 
 the theft, for it is too much to expect of seamen, that they would 
 refuse a glass of grog when offered to them.' 
 
 *' Now Short and the others had a parley together , and they had 
 agreed how to act; they knew that the captain could not bear 
 flogging, and was a very kind-hearted man. So Bill Short steps 
 out, and says, touching his forelock to the captain, 'If you please, 
 Sir , if aU must be flogged , if nobody will peach , I think it better to 
 tell the truth at once. It was I who took the liquor.' 
 
 *** Very well, then,' said the captain; 'strip. Sir.' So Bill 
 Short pulls off his shirt, and is seized up. 'Boatswain's mate,' 
 said the captain , ' give him a doz.en.' 
 
 " ' Beg your honour's pardon ,' said Jack Holmes , stepping out 
 of the row of men brought out for punishment; 'but! can't bear 
 to see an innocent man punished , and since one must be flogged, 
 it must be the right one. It warn 't Bill Short that took the liquor ; 
 it was I.' 
 
 *"Why how's this?' said the captain; 'didn't you own that 
 you took the liquor, Mr. Short?' 
 
 "'Why, yes, I did say so, 'cause I didn't wish to see every 
 body flogged — but the truth's the truth , and I had no hand in it.' 
 
 '"Cast him loose — Holmes, you'll strip. Sir.' Holmes 
 stripped and was tied up. 'Give him a dozen,' said the captain; 
 when out steps M'Alpine , and swore it was him , and not Holmes ; 
 and axed leave to be flogged in his stead. At which the captain bit 
 his lips to prevent laughing , and then they knew all was right. So 
 another came forward , and says it was him , and not M'Alpine ; 
 
170 
 
 and another contradicts him again , and so on. At last the captain 
 says , * One would think flogging was a very pleasant affair, you are 
 all so eager to be tied up; but, however, Isha'n't flog, to please 
 you. I shall find out who the real culprit is , and then punish him 
 severely. In the mean time , you keep them all on the report , Mr. 
 p — / speaking to the first lieutenant, 'Depend upon it, I'll not 
 let you off, although I do not choose to flog innocent men.' So they 
 piped down, and the first lieutenant, who knew that the captain 
 never meant to take any more notice of it, never made no inquiries, 
 and the thing blew over. One day, a month or two after, I told the 
 officers how it was managed , and they laughed heartily." 
 
 We continued our carouse till a late hour, old Tom constantly 
 amusing us with his long yarns ; and that night , for the first time, 
 I went to bed intoxicated. Old Tom and his son assisted me into 
 my bed-place, old Tom observing, ''Poor Jacob, it will do him 
 good ; his heart was heavy , and now he'll forget it all , for a little 
 time, at all events." 
 
 "Well but, father, I don't like to see Jacob drunk,'* replied 
 young Tom. "It's not like him — it 's not worthy of him; as for 
 you or me , it 's nothing at all ; but I feel Jacob was never meant to 
 be a toper. I never saw a Iqd so altered in a short time , and I ex- 
 pect bad will come of it, when he leaves us." 
 
 I awoke , as might be supposed , after my first debauch , with a 
 violent headach , but I had also a fever , brought on by my previous 
 anxiety of mind. I rose, dressed, and went on deck, where the 
 snow was nearly a foot deep. It now froze hard , and the river was 
 covered with small pieces of floating ice. I rubbed my burning 
 forehead with the snow, and felt relief. For some time I assisted 
 Tom to heave it overboard , but the fever pressed upon me , and in 
 less than half an hour I could no longer stand the exertion. I sat 
 down on the water cask , and pressed my hands to my throbbing 
 temples. 
 
 "You are not well, Jacob?" inquired Tom, coming up to me 
 with the shovel in his hand , and glowing with health and exercise. 
 
 "I am not indeed, Tom," replied I; "feel how hot I am." 
 
 Tom went to his father, who was in the cabin, padding, with 
 extra flannel , his stumps , to defend them from the cold , which 
 
171 
 
 always made him suffer much , and thenled me iuto the cabin. It 
 was with much difficulty I could walk; my knees trembled, and 
 my eyesight was defective. Old Tom took my hand as I sank on 
 the locker. 
 
 **Do you think that it was taking too much last night?" in- 
 quired Tom of his father. 
 
 There's more here than a gallon of liquor would have brought 
 about," replied old Tom. *'No, no — I see it all. Go to bed 
 again, Jacob." 
 
 They put me into bed , and I was soon in a state of stupor , in 
 which I remained until the lighter had arrived at the Brentford 
 Wharf, and for many days afterwards. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 On a sick bed. — Fever, firmness, and folly. — "Bound 'prentice to a 
 waterman.^' — 1 take niy first lesson in love, and give my first lesson 
 in Latin. — The love lesson makes an impression on my auricular 
 organ. — Verily, none are so deaf as those who won't hear. 
 
 When I recovered my senses, I found myself in bed, and Cap- 
 tain TurnbuU sitting by my side. I had been removed to his house 
 when the lighter had arrived at the wharf. Captain Turnbull was 
 then talking with Mr. Tomkins, the former head clerk, now in 
 charge. Old Tom came on shore and stated the condition I was 
 in , and Mr. Tomkins having no spare bed in his house , Captain 
 Turnbull immediately ordered me to be taken to his residence, and 
 sent for medical advice. During the time I had remained in this 
 state. Old Tom had informed Captain Turnbull, the Domine, and 
 Mr. Tomkins, of the circumstances which had occurred, and how 
 much I had been misrepresented to Mr. Drummond ; and not say- 
 ing a word about the affair of Wimbledon Common , or my subse- 
 quent intemperance , had given it as his opinion that ill-treatment 
 had produced the fever. In this, I believe, he was nearly correct, 
 although my disease might certainly have been aggravated and 
 hastened by those two unmentioned causes. They all of them took 
 my part, and Mr. Turnbull went to London to state my condition 
 to- Mr. Drummond , and also to remonstrate at his injustice. Cir- 
 
172 
 
 cumstances had since occurred which induced Mr. Drummond to 
 lend a ready ear to my justification; but the message I had sent 
 was still an obstacle. This, however, was partly removed by the 
 equivocating testimony of the young clerk, when he was interro- 
 gated by Captain Turnbull and Mr. Dri>mmond ; and wholly so by 
 the evidence of young and old Tom, who, although in the cabin, 
 had overheard the whole of the conversation ; and Mr. Drummond 
 desired Captain Turnbull to inform me, as soon as I recovered, 
 that all was forgotten and forgiven. It might have been on his part, 
 but not on mine ; and when Captain Turnbull told me so, with the 
 view of raising my spirits , I shook my head as I lay on the pillow. 
 As the reader will have observed, the feeling roused in me by the 
 ill-usage I had received was a vindictive one — one that must 
 have been deeply implanted in my heart, although, till then, it had 
 never been roused into action, and now, once roused, was not to be 
 suppressed. That it was based on pride was evident, and with it 
 my pride was raised in proportion. To the intimation of Captain 
 Turnbull, I therefore gave a decided dissent. "No, Sir, I cannot 
 return to Mr. Drummond : that he was kind to me , and that I owe 
 much to his kindness, I readily admit; and now that he has 
 acknowledged his error in supposing me capable of such ingrati- 
 tude , I heartily forgive him ; but I cannot and will not receive any 
 more favours from him. I cannot put myself in a situation to be 
 again mortified as I have been. I feel I should no longer have the 
 same pleasure in doing my duty as I once had , and I never could 
 live under the same roof with those who at present serve him. Tell 
 him all this , and pray tell little Sarah how grateful I f«el to her for 
 all her kindness to me , and that I shall always think of her with 
 regret, at being obliged to leave her." And at the remembrance of 
 little Strah, I burst into tears, and sobbed on my pillow. Captain 
 Turnbull , whether he rightly estimated my character, or felt con- 
 vinced that I had made up my mind , did not renew the subject. 
 
 "Well, Jacob," replied he, "we '11 not talk of that any more. 
 I '11 give your messages just in your own words. Now, take your 
 draught , and try to get a little sleep." 
 
 I complied with this request, and nothing but weakness now 
 remaining, I rapidly regained my strength, and with my strength, 
 
173 
 
 my feelings of resentment increased in proportion. Nothing but 
 the yery weak state that I was in when Captain Turnbull spoke to 
 me , would have softened me down to give the kind message that I 
 did ; but my vindictive mind was subdued by disease , and better 
 feelings predominated. The only effect this had was to increase 
 my animosity against the other parties who were the cause of my 
 ill-treatment , and I vowed that they , at least , should one day re- 
 pent their conduct. 
 
 The Domine called upon me the following Sunday. I was 
 dressed and looking through the window when he arrived. The 
 frost was now intense, and the river was covered with large masses 
 of ice , and my greatest pleasure was to watch them as they floated 
 down with the tide. "Thou hast had a second narrow escape, my 
 Jacob," said he, after some preliminary observations. "Once 
 again did death (pallida mors) hover over thy couch; but thou 
 hast arisen, and thy fair fame is again established. When wilt 
 thou be able to visit Mr. Drummond, and be able to thank him for 
 his kindness?" 
 
 "Never, Sir," replied I. "I will never again enter Mr. 
 Drummond's house." 
 
 "Nay , Jacob , this savoureth of enmity. Are not we all likely 
 to be deceived — all likely to do wrong? Did not I , even I , in thy 
 presence, backslide into intemperance and folly? Did not I dis- 
 grace myself before my pupil — and shalt thou, in thy tender years, 
 harbour ill-will against one who hath cherished thee when thou 
 wert destitute , and who was deceived with regard to thee by the 
 base and evil speaking?" 
 
 "I am obliged to Mr. Drummond for all his kindness, Sir," 
 replied I ; "but I never wish to enter his house. I was turned out 
 of it , and never will again go into it." 
 
 "Eheu! Jacobe, thou art in error ; it is our duty to forgive, 
 as we hope to be forgiven." 
 
 "I do forgive, Sir, if that is what is requested ; but I cannot, 
 and will not , accept of further favours." 
 
 The Domine urged in vain , and left me. Mr. Tomkins also 
 came , and argued the point without success. I was resolved. I 
 was determined to be independent; and I looked to the river as my 
 
174 
 
 father, mother, home, and every thing. As soon as my health was 
 reinstated, Captain Turnbull one day came to me. "Jacob," said 
 he, 'Uhelighter has returned: and I wish to know if you intend to 
 go on board again, and afterwards go into the vessel into which Mr. 
 Drummond proposes to send you." 
 
 ''I will go into no vessel through Mr. Drummond*s means or 
 interest," replied I. 
 
 "What will you do then? " replied he. 
 
 "I can always enter on board a man-of-war," replied I, **if the 
 worst comes to the worst ; but if I can serve out my apprenticeship 
 on the river , I should prefer it." 
 
 "I rather expected this answer, Jacob, from what you have 
 said to me already ; and I have been trying if I cannot help you to 
 something which may suit you. You don't mind being obliged 
 tome?" 
 
 "0 no ; but promise you will never doubt me — never accuse . 
 me." My voice faltered , and I could say no more. 
 
 "No, my lad, that I will not; I know you, as I think, pretty 
 well; and the heart that feels a false accusation as yours does, is 
 sure to guard against committing what you are so angry at being 
 accused of. Now, Jacob, listen to me. You know old deaf Staple- 
 ton, whose wherry we have so often pulled up and down the river? 
 I have spoken to him to take you as his help, and he has consented. 
 Will you like to go? He has served his time , and has a right ta 
 take a 'prentice." 
 
 "Yes," repliedl, "with pleasure; and with more pleasure, 
 from expecting to see you often." 
 
 "0, I promise you all my custom, Jacob," replied he, laugh- 
 ing. "We '11 often turn old Stapleton out, and have a row together. 
 Is it agreed?" 
 
 " It is ," replied I; "and many thanks to you." 
 
 "Well, then, consider it settled. Stapleton has a very good 
 room , and all that 's requisite on shore , at Fulham. I have seen 
 his place , and I think you will be comfortable." 
 
 I did not know at the time how much Captain Turnbull had 
 been my friend — that he had made Stapleton take better lodgings, 
 and had made up the difference to him , besides allowing him a 
 
175 
 
 trifle per week, and promising him a gratuity occasionally, if I were 
 content with my situation. In a few days I had removed all my clo- 
 thes to Stapleton's , had taken my leave of Mr. Turnbull , and was 
 established as an apprentice to a waterman on the Thames. The 
 lighter was still at the wharf when I left, and my parting with old 
 Tom and his son was equally and sincerely felt on both sides. 
 
 ''Jacob,'* said old Tom, "I likes your pride after all, *cause 
 why , I think you have some right to be proud ; and the man who 
 only asks fair play, and no favour, always will rise in this world. 
 But look you, Jacob, there 's sometimes a current 'gainst a man, 
 that no one can make head against ; and if so be that should be your 
 case for a time , recollect the old house , the old woman , and old 
 Tom, and there you '11 always find a hearty welcome, and a hearty 
 old couple, who '11 share with you what they have, be it good, bad, 
 or indifferent. Here 's luck to you, my boy; and recollect, I means 
 to go to the expense of painting the sides of my craft blue, and then 
 you '11 always know her as she creeps up and down the river." 
 
 "And Jacob," said young Tom ; — "I may be a wild one, but 
 I 'm a true one ; if ever you want me, in fair weather and in foul — 
 good or bad — for fun or for mischief — for a help , or for a friend 
 in need , through thick or thin , I 'm yours, even to the gallows ; 
 and here 's my hand upon it." 
 
 **Just like you, Tom," observed his father; "but I know 
 what you mean , and all *s right." 
 
 I shook hands with them both , and we parted. 
 
 Thus did I remove from the lighter, and at once take up the 
 profession of a waterman. I walked down to the Fulham side, 
 where I found Stapleton at the door of the public-house, standing 
 with two or three others, smoking his pipe. "Well, lad, so 
 you 're chained to my wherry for two or three years ; and I 'm to 
 'nitiate you into all the rules and regulations of the company. Now, 
 I'll tell you one thing, which is, d'ye see, when the river 's co- 
 vered with ice, as it is just now, hand your wherry up high and 
 dry, and smoke your pipe till the river is clear, as I do now." 
 
 "I might have guessed that," replied I, bawling in his ear, 
 "without your telling me." 
 
 "Very true, my lad; but don't bawl in my ear quite so loud, 
 
176 
 
 I licars none the better for it ; my ears require coaxing , "that 's 
 all." 
 
 * * Why, I thought you were as deaf as a post." 
 
 **Yes, so I be with strangers, 'cause I don't know the pitch 
 of their voice ; but with those about me I hear better when they 
 speak quietly — that's human natur. Come , let's go home, my 
 pipe is finished , and as there's nothing to be done on the river, 
 we may just as well make all tidy there." 
 
 Stapleton had lost his wife; but he had a daughter, fifteen 
 years old, who kept his lodgings, and did for him, as he 
 termed it. He lived in part of some buildings leased by a boat- 
 builder; his windows looked out on the river; and, on the first 
 floor , a bay-window was thrown out , so that at high water the 
 river ran under it. As for the rooms, consisting of five, I can 
 only say, that they could not be spoken of as large and small, but 
 as small and smaller. The sitting-room was eight feet square, 
 the two bed-rooms at the back, for himself and his daughter, 
 just held a small bed each, and the kitchen, and my room below, 
 were to match ; neither were the tenements in the very best repair, 
 the parlour especially, hanging over the river, being lop-sided, 
 and giving you the uncomfortable idea that it would every minute 
 fall into the stream below. Still the builder declared that it would 
 last many years without sinking further , and that was suflicient. 
 At all events , they were very respectable accommodations for a 
 waterman, and Stapleton paid for them lOjfper annum. Sta- 
 pleton's daughter was certainly a very well-favoured girl. She 
 liad rather a large mouth ; but her teeth were very fine, and beauti- 
 fully white. Her hair was auburn — her complexion very fair, 
 her eyes were large , and of a deep blue , and from her figure, 
 which was very good , I should have supposed her to have been 
 ^eighteen , although she was not past fifteen , as I found out after- 
 wards. There was a frankness and honesty of countenance about 
 her, and an intellectual smile, which was very agreeable. 
 
 *'Well, Mary, how do you get on?" said Stapleton, as we 
 ascended to the sitting-room. ** Here's young Faithful come to 
 take up with us." 
 
 Well, father, his bed 's all ready; and I have taken so much 
 
177 
 
 dirt from the room , that I expect we shall be indicted for filling up 
 the river. I wonder what nasty people lived in this house be- 
 fore us." 
 
 Very nice rooms, nevertheless: a*n't they, boy?" 
 
 *'0 yes, very nice for idle people; you may amuse yourself 
 looking out on the river, or watching what floats by, or fishing 
 with a pin at high water," replied Mary, looking at me. 
 
 like the river," replied I, gravely; **I was born on it, 
 and hope to get my bread on it." 
 
 "And I like this sitting-room," rejoined Stapleton; **how 
 mighty comfortable it will be to sit at the open window, and smoke 
 in the summer time , with one's jacket off"! " 
 
 '*At all events you'll have no excuse for dirtying the room, 
 father; and as for the lad, I suppose his smoking^ days have not 
 come yet." ' 
 
 **No," replied I; **but my days for taking off my jacket are, 
 I suspect." 
 
 "Oyes," replied she, never fear that: father will let you 
 do all the work you please , and look on — won't you father? " 
 
 *'Don't let your tongue run quite so fast, Mary; you're not 
 over fond of work yourself." 
 
 "No; there's only one thing I dislike more," replied she, 
 "and that's holding my tongue." 
 
 "Well, I shall leave you and Jacob to make it out together; 
 I am going back to the Feathers." And old Stapleton walked 
 downstairs, and went back to the inn, saying, as he went<K)uf, 
 that he should be back to his dinner. 
 
 Mary continued her employment, of wiping the furniture of 
 the room with a duster for some minutes , during which I did not 
 speak, but watched the floating ice on the river. "Well," said 
 Mary, "do you always talk as you do now? if so, you'll be a 
 very nice companion. Mr. Turnbull, who came to my father, 
 told me that you was a sharp fellow , could read , write , and do 
 every thing, and that I should like you very much; but if you 
 mean to keep it all to yourself, you might as well not have had it." 
 
 "I am ready to talk when I have any thing to talk about," 
 replied I. 
 
 Jacob Faithful, 1 J 
 
i78 
 
 **That 's not enough. I 'm ready to talk about nothing , and 
 you must do the same." 
 
 Very well," replied I. How old are you?" 
 
 **How old am I! O then you consider me nothing. I 'II try 
 hard but you shall alter your opinion , my fine fellow. However, 
 to answer your question , I believe I 'm about fifteen." 
 
 ''Not more! well there's an old proverb, which I will not 
 repeat." 
 
 **I know it, so you may save yourself the trouble, you saucy 
 boy; but now, foryour age?" 
 
 "Mine! let me see; well, I believe that I am nearly se- 
 venteen." 
 
 *'Are you really so old! well, now, I should have thought 
 you no more than fourteen." 
 
 This answer at first surprised me , as I was very stout and tall 
 for my age ; but a moment's reflection told me that it was given to 
 annoy me. A lad is as much vexed at being supposed younger 
 than he really is , as a man of a certain age is annoyed at being 
 taken for so much older. ''Pooh!" replied I: " that shows how 
 little you know about men." 
 
 "I wasn't talking about men, that I know of; but still, I do 
 know something about them. I 've had two sweethearts already." 
 
 "Indeed! and what have you done with them?" 
 
 "Done with them! I jilted the first for the second, because 
 the second was better looking; and when Mr. TurnbuU told me so 
 much about you, I jilted the second to make room for you; but 
 now , I mean to try if I can't get him back again." 
 
 "With all my heart," repfied I, laughing. "I shall prove 
 but a sorry sweetheart , for I never made love in my life." 
 
 "Have you ever had any body to make love to?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "That's the reason, Mr. Jacob, depend upon it. All you 
 have to do, is to swear that I 'm the prettiest girl in the world, 
 that you like me better than any body else in the world; do any 
 thing in the world that I wish you to do — spend all the money you 
 have in the world in buying me ribbons and fairings, and then — " 
 
 "And then, what?" 
 
179 
 
 Why, then I shall hear all you have to say, take all you hav^ 
 to give , and laugh at you in the bargain." 
 
 But I shouldn't stand that long." 
 * ' O yes you would . I *d put you out of humour , and coax you 
 in again ; the fact is , Jacob Faithful , I made my mind up, before 
 I saw you, that you should be my sweetheart, and when I will 
 have a thing, I will, so you may as well submit to it at once; if 
 you don't , as I keep the key of the cupboard , I '11 half starve you ; 
 that 's the way to tame any brute , they say. And I tell you why, 
 Jacob , I mean that you shall be my sweetheart , it 's because Mr. 
 Turnbull told me that you knew Latin; now tell me*, what is 
 Latin?" 
 
 Latin is a language which people spoke in former times , but 
 now they do not." 
 
 **Well, then, you shall make love to me in Latin, that's 
 agreed." 
 
 * ' And how do you mean to answer me ? " 
 **0 in plain English, to be sure." 
 
 *'But how are you to understand me?" replied I, much 
 amused with the conversation. 
 
 0, if you make love properly, I shall soon understand you ; 
 I shall read the English of it in your eyes." 
 
 ** Very well, I 've no objection ; when am I to begin?" 
 
 *'Why directly, you stupid fellow, to bQ sure. What a 
 question ! " • 
 
 I went close up to Mary , and repealed a few words of Latin — 
 **Now," says I, **look into my eyes, and see if you can trans- 
 late them." 
 
 Something impudent, I 'm sure/* replied she, fixing her 
 blue eyes on mine. 
 
 *'Not at all," replied I; **I only asked for this," and I 
 snatched a kiss, in return for which I received a box on the ear, 
 which made it tingle for five minutes. *' Nay," replied I, " that 's 
 not fair; I did as you desired — I made love in Latin." 
 
 "And I answered you,, as I said I would, in plain English," 
 replied Mary, reddening up to the forehead, but directly after 
 bursting out into a loud laugh. " Now , Mr. Jacob , I plainly see 
 
 12* 
 
180 
 
 that yoa know nothing about making love. Why, bless me, a 
 year's dangling, and a year's pocket-money should not have given 
 you what you have had the impudence to take in so many minutes. 
 But it was my own fault, that 's certain, and I have no one to 
 thank but myself. I hope I didn't hurt you — I 'm very sorry if I 
 did ; but no more making love in Latin , I 've had quite enough 
 of that." 
 
 *'WeIl, then, suppose we make friends," replied I, holding 
 out my hand. 
 
 "That 's what I really wished to do, although I 've been talking 
 so much nonsense," replied Mary. "I know we shall like one 
 another, and be very good friends. You can't help feeling kind 
 towards a girl you 've kissed ; and I shall try by kindness to make 
 up to you for the box on the ear; so now sit down , and let's have 
 a long talk. Mr. TurnbuU told us that he wished you to serve out 
 your apprenticeship on the river with my father, so that if you 
 agree, we shall be a long while together. I take Mr. Turnbull's 
 word, not that I can find it out yet, that you are a very good- 
 tempered, good-looking, clever, modest, lad; and as an appren- 
 tice who remains with my father must live with us , of course I had 
 rather it should be one of that sort, than some ugly, awkward 
 brute who — " 
 
 Is not fit to make love to you ," replied I. 
 
 **Who is not fit company for me," replied Mary. **I want 
 no more love from you, at present. The fact is, that father spends 
 all the time he can spare from the wherry, at the ale-house, smo- 
 king; and it's very dull for me, and having nothing to do , I look 
 out of window , and make faces at the young men as they pass by, 
 just to amuse myself. Now there was no great harm in that a year 
 or two ago; but now, you know, Jacob — " 
 
 **Wellnow% what then?" 
 
 **0, I'm bigger, that's all; and what might be called sau- 
 cin€ss in a girl, may be thought something more of in a young wo- 
 man. So I 've been obliged to leave jit off: but being obliged to 
 remain at home, with nobody to talk to, I never was so glad as 
 when I heard that you were to come ; so you see , Jacob, we must 
 be friends. I daren't quarrel with you long, although I shall 
 
181 
 
 sometimes , just for variety, and to have the pleasure of making it 
 up again. Do you hear me — or what are you thinking of? 
 
 **I 'm thinking that you 're a very odd girl." 
 
 **I dare say that I am , but how can I help that? Mother died 
 when I was five years old,, and father couldn't afford to put me 
 out , so he used to lock me in all day , till he came home from the 
 river; and it was not till I was seven years old , and of some use, 
 that the door was left open. I never shall forget the day when he 
 told me that in future he should trust me, and leave the door open. 
 I thought I was quite a woman, and have thought so ever 
 since. I recollect, that I often peeped out, and longed to run 
 about the world ; but I went two or three yards from the door, 
 and felt so frightened, that I ran back as fast as I could. Since 
 that I have seldom quitted the house for an hour , and never have 
 been out of Fulham." 
 
 * ' Then you have never been at school ? " 
 
 « 0 no — never. I often wish that I had. I used to see the little 
 girls coming home, as they passed our door, so merrily, with 
 their bags, from the school house; andl'msuro, if it were only 
 to have the pleasure of going there and back again for the sake of 
 the run , I would have worked hard , if for nothing else." 
 
 *' Would you like to learn to read and write? " 
 
 "Will you teach me?" replied Mary, taking me by the arm, 
 and looking me earnestly in the face. 
 
 **Yes, I will, with pleasure," replied I, laughing. "We 
 will pass the evening better than making love , after all , especially 
 if you hit so hard. How came you so knowing in those matters?" 
 
 "I don't know," replied Mary, smiling; *'I suppose, as 
 father says , it 's human nature , for I never learnt any thing; but 
 you will teach me to read and write?" 
 
 " I will teach you all I know myself, Mary , if you wish to learn. 
 Every thing but Latin — we 've had enough of that." 
 
 " Oh ! I shall be so much obliged to you. I shall love you so I " 
 
 "There you are again." 
 
 "No, no, I didn't mean that," replied Mary, earnestly. "I 
 meant that — after all , I don't know what else to say. I mean 
 
182 
 
 that I shall love you for your kindness , without your loving me . 
 again , that 's it," 
 
 understand you; but now, Mary, as we are to be such 
 good Ifriends , it is necessary that your father and I should be good 
 friends ; so I must ask you what sort of a person he is , for I know 
 little of him , and of course wish to oblige him 
 
 Well , then , to prove to you that I am sincere , I will tell you 
 something. My father , in the first place , is a very good-tempered 
 sort of man. He works pretty well , but might gain more , but he 
 likes to smoke at the public-house. All he requires of me is his 
 dinner ready, his linen clean, and the house tidy. He never 
 drinks too much, and is always civil spoken; but he leaves 
 me too much alone, and talks too much about human nature, 
 that 's all." 
 
 ** But he 's so deaf — he can't talk to you." 
 
 Give me your hand — now promise — for I 'm going to do a 
 very foolish thing , which is to trust a man — promise you '11 never 
 tell it again." 
 
 '*Well, I promise," replied I; supposing her secret of no 
 jonsequence. 
 
 ' ' Well , then — mind — you've promised. Father is no more 
 deaf than you or I." 
 
 Indeed!" replied I; **why he goes by the name of Deaf 
 Stapleton?" 
 
 *' I know he does , and makes every body believe that he is so , 
 but it is to make money." 
 
 *' How can he make money by that? " 
 
 ** There 's many people in business who go down the river, and 
 they wish to talk of their affairs without being overheard as they go 
 down. They always call for Deaf Stapleton: and there 's many a 
 gentleman and lady , who have much to say to each other , without 
 wishing people to listen — you understand me?" 
 
 **Oyes, I understand — Latin!" 
 Exactly and they call for Deaf Stapleton; and by this 
 means he gets more good fares than any other waterman , and does 
 less work." 
 
 '*But how will he manage now that I am with him?" j 
 
183 
 
 *'0 I suppose it will depend upon his customers ; if a single 
 person wants to go down , you will take the sculls ; if they call for 
 oars , you will both go ; if he considers Deaf Stapleton only is 
 wanted , you will remain on shore ; or , perhaps , he will insist 
 upon your being deaf too." 
 
 **But I do not like deceit." 
 
 **No, it's not right; although it appears to me that there is a 
 great deal of it. Still I should like you to sham deaf, and then tell 
 me all that people say. It would be so funny. Father never will 
 tell a word." 
 
 *'So far, your father, to a certain degree, excuses himself." 
 
 " Well , I think he will soon tell you what I have now told you, 
 but till then you must keep your promise ; and now you must do as 
 you please, as I must go down in the kitchen , and get dinner on 
 the fire." 
 
 I have nothing to do," replied I; can I help you?" 
 
 **To be sure you can, and talk to me, which is better still. 
 Come down and wash the potatoes for me , and then I'll find you 
 some more work. Well, I do think we shall be very happy." 
 
 I followed Mary Stapleton down into the kitchen , and we were 
 soon very busy, and very noisy, laughing, talking, blowing the 
 fire, and preparing the dinner. By the time that her father came 
 home, we were sworn friends. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 very didactic, and treats learnedly of the various senses, and "human 
 nature;" is also diffuse on the hest training to produce a moral phiio> 
 iopher. — Indeed, it contains materials with which to build up one 
 system, and half a dozen theories, as these things are now made. 
 
 I WAS rather curious , after the secret confided to me by Mary 
 Stapleton , to see how her father would behave ; but when we had 
 sat and talked some time , as he appeared to have no difficulty in 
 answering to any observation in a common pitch of the voice , I 
 observed to him that he was not so deaf as I thought he was. 
 
 **No, no," replied he, * 'in the house I hear very well , but in 
 the open air I can't hear at all , if a person speaks to me two yards 
 
184 
 
 off. Always speak to me close to my ear in the open air , but not 
 loud, and then I shall hear you very well/' I caught a bright glance 
 from Mary's blue eye, and made no answer. **This frost will 
 hold, I'm afraid," continued Stapleton, '*and we shall have 
 nothing to do for some days but to blow our fingers and spend our 
 earnings ; but there's never much doing at this time of the year. 
 The winter cuts us watermen up terribly. As for me , I smokes 
 my pipe and thinks on human natur; but what you are to do, 
 Jacob , I can't tell." 
 
 "Oh! he will teach me to read and write," replied Mary. 
 
 "I don't know that he shall," replied Stapleton. "What's 
 the use of reading and writing to you? We 've too many senses 
 already in my opinion , and if so be we have learning to boot , why 
 then all the worse for us." 
 
 " How many senses are there, father? " 
 
 **How many! I 'm sure I can't tell, but more than enough to 
 puzzle us." 
 
 "There are only five, I believe," said I: "first, there's 
 hearing." 
 
 "Well," replied Stapleton, "hearing may be useful at times, 
 but not hearing at times is much more convenient. I make twice 
 as much money since I lost the better part of my hearing." 
 
 "Well, then, there's s eeing ," continued I. 
 
 " Seeing is useful at times , I acknowledge : but I knows this, 
 that if a man could pull a young couple about the river , and not be 
 able to see now and then , it would be many a halfcrown in his 
 pocket. " 
 
 "Well, then, now we come to tasting." 
 
 "No use at all — only a vexation. If there was no tasting, we 
 should not care whether we ate brown bread or roast beef, drank 
 water or XX ale ; and in these hard times , that would he no small 
 saving." 
 
 "Well, then, let me see, there's smelling." 
 
 " Smelling 's no use whatever. For one good smell by the river's 
 side , there be ten nasty ones ; and so there is every where , to my 
 conviction." 
 
 " Which is the next, Jacob?" said Mary, smiling archly. 
 
185 
 
 "Feeling/' 
 
 Feeling ! that 's the worst of the whole. Always feel too cold 
 in winter, too hot in summer — feel a blow too ; feeling only gives 
 pain ; — that 's a very bad sense." 
 
 **Well, then, I suppose you think we should get on better 
 without our senses." 
 
 *'No, not without all of them. A little hearing and a little 
 seeing be all very well; but there are other senses which you have 
 forgot, Jacob. Now one I takes to be the very best of the bunch, 
 is smoking." 
 
 * * I never heard that was a sense ," replied I, laughing. 
 
 **Then you hav'n't half finished your education, Jacob." 
 
 ** Are reading and writing senses, father?" inquired Mary. 
 
 *'To be sure they be, girl; for without sense you can't read 
 and write ; and r o w i n g be a sense just as well : and there be many 
 other senses; but, in my opinion, most of the senses be nonsense, 
 and only lead to mischief." 
 
 Jacob," said Mary, whispering to my ear , isn't loving a 
 sense?" 
 
 **No, that's nonsense," replied I. 
 
 **Well, then," replied she, *'I agree with my father, thai 
 nonsense is better than sense ; but still I don't see why I should 
 not learn to read and write, father." 
 
 I've lived all my life without it , and never felt the want of it 
 — why can't you?" 
 
 Because I do feel the want of it. " 
 
 ** So you may, but they leads to no good. Look at these fel- 
 lows at the Feathers , all were happy enough before Jim Holder, 
 who 's a scholar, came among them, and now since he reads to 
 them, they do nothing but grumble, and growl, and talk about I 
 don't know what — corn laws, and taxes, and liberty, and all 
 other nonsense. Now what could you do more than y.ou do now, if 
 you larnt to read and write ? " 
 
 " I could amuse myself when I 've nothing to do, father, when 
 you and Jacob are away. I often sit down , after I 've done all my 
 work, and think what I shall do next, and at last I look out of 
 the window and make faces at people, because I 've nothing better 
 
186 
 
 to do. Now, father, you must let him learn me to read and 
 write." 
 
 **Well, Mary, if you will, you will; but recollect, don t blame 
 me for it — it must be all on your own head , and not on my con- 
 science. I 've lived some forty or fifty years in this world, and all 
 my bad luck has been owing to having too much senses, and all 
 my good luck to getting rid of them." 
 
 I wish you would tell me how that came to pass," said I; **I 
 should like to hear it very much, and it will be a lesson to Mary." 
 
 "Well, I don't care if I do , Jacob, only I must light my pipe 
 first ; and Mary, do you go for a pot o' beer." 
 
 Let Jacob go , father. I mean him to run on all my errands 
 now." 
 
 You must'n't order Jacob, Mary." 
 
 No , no — I wouldn't think of ordering him , but I know he 
 will do it — won't you, Jacob?" 
 '*Yes, with pleasure ," replied I. 
 
 "Well, with all my heart, provided it be all for love," said 
 Stapleton. 
 
 "Of course all for love," replied Mary, looking at me, "or 
 Latin — which, Jacob?" 
 
 "What's Latin?'* said her father. 
 
 "Oh! that 's a new sense Jacob has been showing me 
 something of, which , like many others , proved to be nonsense." 
 
 I went for the beer, and when I returned found the fire burning 
 brightly, and a strong sense of smoking from old Stapleton's 
 pipe. He puffed once or twice more, and then commenced his 
 history as follows : — ^ 
 
 "I can't exactly say when I were born, nor where," said old 
 Stapleton , taking his pipe out of his mouth , because I never axed 
 either father or mother, and they never told me, because why, I 
 never did ax^ and that be all agreeable to human natur." Here 
 Stapleton paused, and took three whiffs of his pipe. "I recol- 
 lects when I was a little brat about two foot nothing, mother used 
 to whack me all day long, and I used to cry in proportion. Father 
 used to cry shame , and then mother would fly at him : he would 
 whack she ; she would up with her apron in one corner and cry, 
 
187 
 
 while 1 did the same with my pinbefore in another : all that was 
 nothing but human natur." [A. pause , and six or seven whilfs of 
 the pipe.] 
 
 "I was sent to a school at a penny a week, to keep me out of 
 the way, and out of mischief. I larnt nothing but to sit still on the 
 form and hold my tongue, and so I used to amuse myself twiddling 
 my thumbs, and looking at the flies as they buzzed about the room 
 in the summer time ; and in the winter, 'cause there was no flies of 
 no sort, I used to watch the old missus a knitting of stockings , and 
 think how soon the time would come when I should go home and 
 have my supper, which, in a child, was nothing but human natur. 
 [Puff, puff, puff.J Father and mother lived in a cellar; mother 
 sold coals and 'tatoes , and father used to go out to work in the 
 barges on the river. As soon as I was old enough, the schoolmis- 
 sus sent word that I ought to larn to read and write , and that sh« 
 must be paid three-pence a week, so father took me away from 
 school, because he thought I had had education enough ; and mo- 
 ther perched me on a basket upside down, and made me watch 
 that nobody took the goods while she was busy down below; and 
 then I used to sit all day long watching the coals and 'tatoes, and 
 never hardly speaking to nobody ; so having nothing better to do, I 
 used to think about this, and that, and every thing, and when din- 
 ner would be ready , and when I might get off the basket ; for you 
 see t h i n k i n g be another of the senses, and when one has nothing 
 to do, and nothing to say, to think be nothing more than human 
 natur. [Puff, puff, and a pause for a drink out of the pot.] At 
 last , I grew a big stout boy , and mother said that I ate too much, 
 and must earn my livelihood somehow or other, and father for once 
 agreed with her ; but there was a little difficulty how that was to be 
 done ; so until that was got over, I did nothing at all but watch the 
 coals and 'tatoes as before. One day mother wouldn't give me 
 wituals enough, so I helped myself; so she whacked me; so I 
 being strong whacked she ; so father coming home whacked me, 
 so I takes to my heels and runs away a good mile before^ I thought 
 at all about how I was to live ; and there I was, very sore, very un- 
 happy, and very hungry. [Puff, puff, puff, and a spit.] I walks 
 on , and on , and then I gets behind a coach , and then the fellow 
 
188 
 
 whips me , and I gets down again in a great hurry , and tumbles 
 into the road , and before I could get up again , a gemman in a gig 
 .drives right over me and breaks my leg. I screams with the pain, 
 which if I hadn't had the sense of feeling, of course I shouldn't 
 have minded. He pulls up and gets out, and tells me he 's very 
 sorry. I tells him so am I. His servant calls some people , and 
 they takes me into a public-house , and lays me on the table all 
 among the pots of beer, sends for a doctor who puts me into bed, 
 and puts my leg right again ; and then I was provided for, for at 
 least six weeks, during which the gemman calls and axes how I feel 
 myself; and I says, * Pretty well, I thanky.' [Puff, puff — knock 
 the ashes out, pipe refilled, relighted, a drink of beer, and go 
 on.] So when I was well, and on my pins again , the gentleman 
 says, *What can I do for you?' and the landlord cuts him short, 
 by saying, that he wanted a pot-boy, if I liked the profession. 
 Now, if I didn't like the pots I did the porter, which I had no share 
 of at home, so I agrees. The gemman pays the score, gives me half 
 a guinea , and tells me not to be lying in the middle of the road an- 
 other time. I tells him I won't, so he jumps into his gig, and I 'va 
 Tiever cast eyes upon him since. I staid three years with my mas- 
 ter, taking out beer to his customers, and always taking a little out 
 of each pot for myself, for that 's nothing but human natur, when 
 you likes a thing; but I never got into no trouble until one day I 
 sees my missus a kissing in the back parlour with a fellow who 
 travels for orders. I never said nothing at first: but at last I sees 
 too much, and then I tells master, who gets into a rage, and goes in 
 to his wife , stays with her half an hour, and then comes out and 
 kicks me out of the door, calling me a liar, and telling me never to 
 show my face again. I shies a pot at his head, and showed him any 
 thing but my face, for I took to my heels, and ran for it as fast as I 
 could. So much for s e e i n g , if I hadn't seen , that wouldn't have 
 happened. So there I was adrift, and good-bye to porter. [Puff, 
 puff; * Mary, where 's my 'ba?cy stopper?* poke down, puff, puff, 
 spit, and proceed.] Well, I walks towards Lunnen , thinking 
 on husbands and wives, porter and human natur, until I finds my- 
 self there, and then I looks at all the lighted lamps , and recollects 
 that I haven't no lodging for the night, and then all of a sudden I 
 
189 
 
 thinks of my father and mother, and wonders how they be going 
 on. So I thought I 'd go and see, and away I vent; comes to the 
 cellar, and goes down. There is my mother with a quartern of gin 
 before her, walking to and fro, and whimpering to herself; so says 
 I, 'Mother, what 's the matter now? ' at which she jumps up and 
 hugs me , and tells me I 'm her only comfort left. I looks at the 
 quartern and thinks otherwise; so down I sits by her side, and 
 then she pours me out a glass , and pours out all her grief, telling 
 me how my father had left her for another woman, who kept another 
 cellar in another street , and how she was rery unhappy , and how 
 she had taken to gin — which was nothing but human natur, you 
 see , and how she meant to make away with herself; and then she 
 sent for more quarterns, and we finished them. What with the joy 
 of finding me, and the grief at losing my father, and the quarterns 
 of gin, she went to bed crying drunk, and fell fast asleep. So did 
 I , and thought home was home , after all. Next morning I takes 
 up the business, and finds trade not so bad after all ; so I takes the 
 command of all, keeps all the money , and keeps mother in order; 
 and don't allow drinking nor disorderly conduct in the house ; but 
 goes to the public-house every night for a pipe and a pot. 
 
 "Well , every thing goes on very well for a month , when who 
 should come home but father, which I didn't approve of, because I 
 liked being master. So I being a strong chap, then says, * If you 
 be come to ill treat my mother , I '11 put you in the kennel , father. 
 Be off to your new woman. Ar 'n't you ashamed of yourself?' 
 says I. So father looks me in the face, and tells me to stand out of 
 his way , or he '11 make cat's meat of me ; and then he goes to my ^ 
 mother, and after a quarter of an hour of sobbing on her part, and 
 coaxing on his, they kiss and make friends: and then they both 
 turns to me, and orders me to leave the cellar, and never to show 
 my face again. I refuses: father flies at me, and mother helps 
 him ; and between the two I was hustled out to find my bread how 
 and where I could. I 've never taken a woman's part since. [Puff, 
 puff, puff, and a deep sigh.] I walks down to the water-side, and 
 having one or two shillings in my pocket, goes into a public-houso 
 to get a drop of drink and a bed. And when I comes in , I sees a 
 man hand a note for change to the landlady, and she gives him 
 
190 
 
 change. *That wo 'n*t do/ says he, and he was half tipsy: *I 
 gave you a ten-pound note , and this here lad be witness.' 'It was 
 only a one/ says the woman. 'You are a d— d old cheat/ says 
 he , * and if you do 'n't give me the change , I '11 set your house on 
 fire , and burn you alive.' With that there was a great row, and 
 he goes out for the constable , and gives her in charge , and gives 
 me in charge as a witness , and then she gives him in charge , and 
 so we all went to the watchouse together, and slept on the benches. 
 The next morning we all appeared before the magistrate, and the 
 man tells his story, and calls me as a witness ; but recollecting how 
 much I had suffered from seeing, I wouldn't see any thing this 
 time. It might have been a ten-pound note , for it certainly didn't 
 look like a one; but my evidence went rather for than against the 
 w^oman, for I only proved the man to be drunk ; and she was let off, 
 and I walked home with her. So says she, 'you're a fine boy, 
 and I '11 do you a good turn for what you have done for me. My 
 husband is a waterman, and I '11 make you free of the river; for he 
 hasn't no 'prentice, and you can come on shore and stay at the 
 public-house, when you ar' n't wanted.' I jumped at the offer, 
 and so, by not seeing, I gets into a regular livelihood. Well, 
 Jacob, how do you like it?" 
 
 *' Very much/' replied I. 
 
 •* And you, Mary?" 
 
 "Oh! I like it very much; but I want father to go on , and to 
 know how he fell in love , and married my mother." 
 
 "Well , you shall have it all by-and-by ; but now I must take 
 a spell." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A very sensible chapter, having reference ta the senses. — Stapleton, 
 by keepini? his under control, keeps his head above water in his 
 wherry. — Forced to fight for his wife , and when he had won her, to 
 fight on to keep her. — No great prize, yet it made him a prize-lighter. 
 
 • Old Stapleton finished his pipe, took another swig at the 
 porter , filled , relighted , puffed to try it , cleared his mouth , and 
 
 theQ proceeded : — 
 
191 
 
 •'Now you see , Barlley , her husband , was the greatest rogue 
 on the river; he was up to every thing, and stood at nothing. He 
 fleeced as much on the water as she did on the land ; for I often 
 seed her give w rong change afterwards when people were tipsy, but 
 I made a rule always to walk away. As for Bartley , his was always 
 night work , and many 's the coil of rope I have brought on shore, 
 what, although he might have paid for, he didn't buy it of the law- 
 ful owner , but I never seed or heard, that was my maxim ; and 
 I fared well till I served my time , and then they gave me their old 
 wherry, and built a new one for themselves. So I set up on my 
 own account , and then I seed , and heard , and had all my senses, 
 just as they were before — more 's the pity, for no good came of it. 
 [Puff, puff, puff, puff.] The Bartleys wanted me to join them , but 
 that wouldn't do ; for though I never meddled with other people's 
 concerns , yet I didn't choose to go wrong myself. I 've seed all the 
 world cheating each other for fifty years or more, but that's no con- 
 cern of mine ; I can't make the world better ; so all I thinks about 
 it, is to keep honest myself : and if every one was to look after his 
 own soul , and not trouble themselves about their neighbours , why 
 then it would be all the better for human natur. I plied at the Swan 
 Stairs, gained my livelihood, and spent it as I got it; for I was then 
 too young to look out a'ter a rainy day. 
 
 **One night a young woman in a cloak comes down to the 
 stairs with a bundle in her arms , and seems in a very great taking, 
 and asks me for a boat. I hauls out of the row alongside of the 
 hard, and hands her in. She trips as she steps in , and I catches to 
 save her from falling, and in catching her I puts my hand upon the 
 bundle in her arms , and feels the warm face of a baby. * Where 
 am I to go , ma'am? * says I. * O ! pull across , and land me on the 
 other side ,* says she ; and then I hears sobbing to herself, as if her 
 heart would break. When we were in the middle o* the stream, 
 she lifts up her head, and then first she looks at the bundle and 
 kisses it, and then she looks up at the stars which were glittering 
 above in the sky. She kisses the child once more , jumps up , and 
 afore I could be aware of what she was about , she tosses me her 
 purse, throws the child into the water, and leaps in herself. 
 I pulls sharp round immediately, and seeing her again, I made 
 
192 
 
 one or two good strokes , comes alongside of her, and gets hold of 
 her clothes. A'ter much ado I gets her into the wherry, and as 
 soon as I seed she was come to again , I pulls her back to the stairs 
 where she had taken me from. As soon as I lands I hears a noise 
 and talking, and several people standing about- it seems it were 
 her relatives , who had missed her, and were axing whether she had 
 taken a boat; and while they were describing her, and the other 
 watermen were telling them how I had taken a fare of that descrip- 
 tion , I brings her back. Well , they takes charge of her , and leads 
 her home ; and then for the first time I thinks of the purse at the 
 bottom of the boat, which I picks up , and sure enough there were 
 four golden guineas in it , beside some silver. Well , the men who 
 plied at the stairs axed me all about it; but I keeps my counsel, 
 and only tells them how the poor girl threw herself into the water, 
 and how I pulled her out again ; and in a week I had almost forgot 
 all about it, when up comes an officer, and says to me, 'You be 
 Stapleton the waterman?' and I says, *Yes, I be.' *Then you 
 must come along with me; ' and he takes me to the police-office, 
 where I finds the poor young woman in custody for being accused 
 of having murdered her infant. So they begins to tax me upon my 
 Bible oath, and I was forced to tell the whole story; for though you 
 may lose all your senses when convenient, yet somehow or 
 another, an oath on the Bible brings them all back again. *Did 
 you see the child?' said the magistrate. 'I seed a bundle,' said I. 
 *Did you hear the child cry?' said he. *No,' says I, * I didn't;' 
 and then I thought I had got the young woman off ; but the ma- 
 gistrate was an old fox, and had all the senses at his finger's ends. 
 So says he, * When the young woman stepped into the boat, did 
 she give you the bundle?' 'No ,' says I again. * Then you never 
 touched it?' *Yes,' I did, 'when her foot slipped.' 'And what 
 did it feel like? ' ' It felt like a piece of human natur ,' says I , * and 
 quite warm like.' ' How do you mean ? ' 5ays he. * Why, I took it 
 by the feel for a baby.' ' And it was quite warm , was it? ' ' Yes,' 
 repliedl, 'itwas.' 'Well, then, what el.se took place?' 'Why, 
 when we were in the middle of the stream , she and her child went 
 overboard ; I pulled her in again, but couldn't see the child.' For- 
 tunately for the poor girl, they didn't ask me which went overboard 
 
193 
 
 Crst, and that saved her from hanging. She was confined six 
 months in prison , and then let out again ; but you see , if it hadn't 
 been for my unfortunately feeling the child, and feeling it was 
 warm , what proved its being alive, the poor young woman would 
 have got off altogether , perhaps. So much for the sense of feeling, 
 which I says is of no use to nobody, but only a vexation." [Puff — 
 the pipe out, relighted — puff, puff.] 
 
 '* But father," said Mary, ** did you ever hear the history of the 
 poor girl?" 
 
 ** Yes , I heard as how it was a hard case , how she had been se- 
 duced by some fellow who had left her and her baby , upon which 
 she determined to drown herself, poor thing! and her baby too. 
 Had she only tried to drown her baby , I should have said it was 
 quite unnatural ; but as she wished to drown herself at the same 
 time , I considers that drowning the baby to take it to heaven with 
 her , was quite natural , and all agreeable to human natur. Love 's 
 a sense which young women should keep down as much as 
 possible, Mary; no good comes of that sense." 
 
 ** And yet, father, it appears to me to be human nature," re- 
 plied Mary. 
 
 So it is , but there 's mischief in it , girl , so do you never have 
 any thing to do with it." 
 
 "Was there mischief when you fell in love with my mother and 
 married her?" 
 
 **You shall hear, Mary," replied old Stapleton, who recom- 
 menced. 
 
 '*It was 'bout two months after the poor girl threw herself into 
 the river , that I first seed your mother. She was then mayhap two 
 years older than you may be , and much such a same sort of person 
 in her looks. There was a young man who plied from our stairs, 
 named Ben Jones ; he and I were great friends , and used for to 
 help each other, and when a fare called for oars, used to ply 
 together. One night he says to me , * Will , come up and I'll show 
 you a devilish fine piece of stuff.' So I walks with him , and he 
 takes me to a shop where they dealed in marine stores, and we goes 
 and finds your mother in the back parlour. Ben sends out for 
 pipes and beer, and we sat down and made ourselves comfortable. 
 
 Jacob Faith fuL 13 
 
194 
 
 Now , Mary , your mother was a very jilting kind of girl , who would 
 put one fellow off to take another , just as her whim and fancy took 
 her. [I looked at Mary, who cast down her eyes.] Now these 
 women do a mint of mischief among men, and it seldom ends well ; 
 and I 'd sooner see you in your coffin to-morrow, Mary, than tnink 
 you should be one of this flaunting sort. Ben Jones was quite in 
 for it, and wanted for to marry her, and she had turned off a fine 
 young chap for him , and he used to come there every night, and it 
 was supposed that they would be spliced in the course of a month ; 
 but when I goes there, she cuts him almost altogether, and takes to 
 me , making such eyes at me , and drinking beer out of my pot and 
 re^tising his'n, till poor Jones was quite mad and beside himself. 
 Well , it wasn't in human natur to stand those large blue eyes, 
 (just like yours, Mary,) darting fire at a poor fellow; and when 
 Jones got up in a surly humour , and said it was time to go away, 
 instead of walking home arm in arm , we went side by side , like 
 two big dogs with their tails as stiff up as a crow bar, and all ready 
 for a fight ; neither he nor T saying a word , and we parted without 
 saying , good night. Well I dreamed of your mother all that night, 
 and the next day went to see her, and felt worser and worser each 
 time , and she snubbed Jones , and at last told him to go about his 
 business. This was 'bout a month after I had first seen her ; and 
 then one day Jones , who was a prime fighter , says to me , * Be you 
 a man?' and slaps me on the ear. So I knowing what he 'd be 
 a'ter, pulls off my duds, and we sets to. We fights for ten minutes 
 or so , and then I hits him a round blow on the ear , and he falls 
 down on the bar d , and couldn't come to time. No wonder, poor 
 fellow! for he had gone to eternity. [Here oldStapleton paused 
 for half a minute, and passed his hand across his eyes.] I was 
 tried for manslaughter; but it being proved that he came up and 
 struck me first, I was acquitted , after lying two months in gaol, for 
 I couldn't get no bail ; but it was because I had been two months 
 in gaol that I was let off. At first , when I came out , I determined 
 never to see your mother again; but she came to me, and wound 
 round me , and I loved her so much , that I couldn't shake her off. 
 As soon as she found that I was fairly hooked , she began to play 
 with others ; but I wouldn't stand that , and every fellow that came 
 
195 
 
 near her was certain to have a turn out with me , and so I became a 
 great fighter ; and she , seeing that I was the best man , and that no 
 one else would come to her , one fine morning agreed to marry me. 
 Well, we were spliced, and the very first night I thought I saw poor 
 Ben Jones standing by my bedside , and, for a week or so, I was 
 not comfortable; but howsomever, it wore off, and I plied at the 
 stairs, and gained my money. But my pipe 's out, and I'm dry 
 with talking. Suppose I take a spell for a few minutes." 
 
 Stapleton relighted his pipe, and for nearly half an hour smoked 
 in silence. What Mary's thoughts were I cannot positively assert ; 
 but I imagined that , like myself, she was thinking about her mo- 
 ther's conduct and her own. I certainly was making the com- 
 parison , and we neither of us spoke a word. 
 
 *'Well," continued Stapleton, at last, "I married your mo- 
 ther, Mary, and I only hope that any man who may take a fancy 
 to you, will not have so much trouble with his wife as I had. I 
 thought that a'ter she were settled she would give up all her non- 
 sense , and behave herself — but I suppose it was in her natur and 
 she couldn't help it. She made eyes and gave encouragement to 
 the men, until they became saucy, and I became jealous, and I 
 had to fight one and then the other, until I became a noted pugilist. 
 I will say that your mother seemed always very happy when I beat 
 my man , which latterly I always did ; but still she liked to be f i t 
 for, and I had hardly time to earn my bread. At last, some one 
 backed me against another man in the ring for fifty pound aside, 
 and I was to have half, if I won. I was very short of blunt at the 
 time, and I agreed; so, a'ter a little training, the battle was 
 fought, and I won easy; and the knowing ones liked my way of 
 hitting so much , that they made up another match with a better 
 man, for two hundred pounds ; and a lord and other great people 
 came to me, and I was introduced to them at the public-house, 
 and all was settled. So I became a regular prize fighter, all through 
 your mother, Mary. Nay, don't cry, child, I don't mean to say 
 that your mother, with all her love of- being stared at and talked 
 to , would have gone wrong ; but still it was almost as bad in my 
 opinion. Well , I was put into training , and after five weeks we 
 met at Moulsey Hurst , and a hard fight it was — but I 've got the 
 
 13* 
 
196 
 
 whole of it somewhere, Mary; look in the drawer there, and 
 you'll see a newspaper." 
 
 Mary brought out the newspaper , which was rolled up and 
 tied with a bit of string, and Stapleton handed it over to me, 
 telling me to read it aloud. I did so , but I shall not enter into 
 the details. 
 
 **Yes, that's all right enough," said Stapleton, who had taken 
 advantage of my reading to smoke furiously , to make up for lost 
 time; **but no good came of it, for one of the gemmen took a 
 fancy to your mother , Mary, and tried to win her away from me. 
 I found him attempting to kiss her , and she refusing him — but 
 laughing , and , as I thought , more than half-willing ; so I floored 
 him , and put him out of the house , and after that I never would 
 have any thing more to say with lords and gemmen, nor with fight- 
 ing either. I built a new wherry and stuck to the river, and I 
 shifted my lodgings , that I mightn't mix any more with those who 
 knew me as a boxer. Your mother was then brought to bed with 
 you , and I hoped for a good deal of happiness , as I thought she 
 would only think of her husband and child ; and so she did until 
 you were weaned , and then she wept on just as afore. There was 
 a captain of a vessel lying in the river , who used now and then to 
 stop and talk with her ; but I thought little about that , seeing how* 
 every one talked with her and she with every body ; and besides, 
 she knew the captain's wife , who was a very pretty woman , and 
 used very often to ask Mary to go and see her , which I permitted. 
 But one morning when I was going ofiF to the boat — for he had 
 come down to me to take him to his vessel — just as I was walking 
 away with the sculls over my shoulder , I recollects my 'baccy box, 
 which I had left, and I goes back and hears him say before I came 
 into "the door — * Recollect , I shall be here again by two o'clock, 
 and then you promised to come on board my ship , and see — * I 
 didn't hear the rest, but she laughed and said yes, she would. 
 I didn't show myself, but walked away and went to the boat. He 
 followed me , and I rowed him up the river and took my fare — 
 and then I determined to watch them, for I felt mighty jealous. 
 So I lays off on my oars in the middle of the stream , and sure 
 
197 
 
 enough I see the captain and your mother get into a small skiff be- 
 longing to his ship , and pull away; the captain had one oar and 
 one of his men another. I pulled a'ter them as fast as I could , and 
 at last they seed me; and not wishing me to find her out, she 
 begged them to pull away as fast as they could , for she knew how 
 savage I would be. Still I gained upon them , every now and then 
 looking round and vowing vengeance in my heart, when all of a 
 sudden I heard a scream , and perceived their boat to capsize , and 
 all hands in the water. They had not seen a warp of a vessel get- 
 ting into the row , and had run over it, and, as it tautened , they 
 capsized. Your mother went down like a stone , Mary , and was 
 not found for three days a'terward ; and when I seed her sink I fell 
 down in a fit." Here old Stapleton stopped , laid down his pipe, 
 and rested his face in his hands. Mary burst into tears. After a 
 few minutes he resumed: **When I came to, I found myself on 
 board of the ship in the captain's cabin , with the captain and his 
 wife watching over me — and then I came to understand that it 
 was she who had sent for your mother, and that she was living on 
 board, and that your mother had at first refused, because she 
 knew that I did not like her to be on the river , but wishing to see 
 a ship , had consented. So it was not so bad a'ter all , only that 
 a woman shouldn't act without her husband — but you see , Mary, 
 all this would not have happened if it hadn't been that I overheard 
 part of what was said ; and you might now have had a mother , and 
 I a wife to comfort us , if it hadn't been for my unfortunate hear- 
 ing — so , as I said before , there 's more harm than good that 
 comes from these senses — at least, so it has proved to me. And 
 now you 've heard my story , and how your mother died , Mary, 
 so take care you don't fall into the same fault, and be too fond of 
 being looked at, which it does somehow or another appear to me 
 you have a bit of a hankling a'ter — but like mother like child, 
 they say, and that 's human natur.'^ 
 
 When Stapleton had concluded his narrative , he smoked his 
 pipe in silence. Mary sat at the table , with her hands pressed to 
 her temples , apparently in deep thought; and I felt any thing but 
 communicative. In half an hour the pot of beer was finished , and 
 Stapleton rose. 
 
198 
 
 Come, Mary, don't be thinking so much ; let 's all go to-bed. 
 Show Jacob his room , and then come up." 
 
 Jacob can find his own room, father," replied Mary, * 'without 
 my showing him ; he knows the kitchen, and there is but one other 
 below." 
 
 I took my candle, wished them good night, and went to my 
 bed, which, although very homely, was at all events comfortable. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The ■warmth of my gratitude proved by a very cold test. — The road 
 to fortune may sometimes lead over a bridge of ice. — Mine lay under 
 it. — Amor vincit every thing but my obstinacy , which young Tom 
 and the old Domine in the sequel will prove to their cost. 
 
 For many days the frost continued , until at last the river was 
 frozen over, and all communication by it was stopped. Stapleton's 
 money ran short, our fare became very indifferent, and Mary de- 
 clared that w e must all go begging with the market gardeners if it 
 lasted much longer. 
 
 "I must go and call upon Mr. Turnbull, and ax him to help 
 us," said Stapleton, one day, pulling his last shilling out and 
 laying it on the table. **I 'm cleaned out; but he 's a good gen- 
 tleman, and will lend me a trifle." In the afternoon Stapleton 
 returned , and I saw by his looks that he had been successful. 
 *' Jacob ," said he, *'Mr. Turnbull desires that you will breakfast 
 with him to-morrow morning, as he wishes to see you." 
 
 I set off accordingly at daylight the next morning, and was ia 
 good time for breakfast. Mr. Turnbull was as kind as ever , and 
 began telling me long stories about the ice in the northern regions. 
 
 "By-the-by, I hear there is an ox to be roasted whole, Jacob, 
 a little above London Bridge ; suppose we go and see the fun." 
 
 I consented , and we to*ok the Brentford coach , and were put 
 down at the corner of Queen-street , from whence we walked to 
 the river. The scene was very amusing and exciting. Booths 
 were erected on the ice, in every direction, with flags flying, 
 people walking, and some skating, although the ice was too rough 
 for that pastime. The whole river was crowded with people , who 
 
199 
 
 now walked in security over where they a month before would have 
 met with death. Here and there smoke ascended from various 
 fires, on which sausages and other eatables were cooking; but 
 the great attraction was the ox roasting whole , close to the centre 
 pier of the bridge. Although the ice appeared to have fallen at the 
 spot where so many hundreds were assembled , yet as it was now 
 four or five feet thick, there was no danger. Here and there, 
 indeed , were what were called rotten places , where the ice was 
 not sound ; but these were intimated by placards , warning people 
 not to approach too near; and close to them were ropes and poles 
 for succour, if required. We amused ourselves for some time 
 with the gaiety of the scene , for the sun shone out brightly, and 
 the sky was clear. The wind was fresh from the northward, and 
 piercing cold in the shade , the thermometer beiog then , it was 
 said, twenty-eight degrees below the freezing point. We had 
 been on the ice about three hours , amusing jsurselvcs , when Mr. 
 Turnbull proposed our going home , and we walked up the river 
 towards Blackfriars' Bridge where we proposed to land , and take 
 the coach at Charing Cross. 
 
 *'I wonder how the tide is now," observed Mr. Turnbull to 
 me ; it would be rather puzzling to find out.'* 
 
 *'Not if I can find a hole," replied I, looking for one. **Stop, 
 here is one." I threw in a piece of ice, and found that it was 
 strong ebb. We continued our walk over the ice , which was now 
 very rough, when Mr. TurnbuU's hat fell off, and the wind 
 catching it, it blew away, skimming across the ice at a rapid rate. 
 Mr. Turnbull and I gave chase , but could scarcely keep up with 
 it, and, at all events, could not overtake it. Many people on 
 the river laughed as we passed , and watched us in our chase. 
 Mr. Turnbull was the foremost, and , heedless in the pursuit, did 
 not observe a large surface of rotten ice before him ; neither did I, 
 until all at once I heard it break and saw Mr. Turnbull fall in and 
 disappear. Many people were close to us , and a rope was laid 
 across the spot to designate the danger. I did not hesitate — I 
 loved Mr. Turnbull , and my love and my feelings of resentment 
 were equally potent. I seized the bight of the rope , twisted it 
 round my arm , and plunged in after , recollecting it was ebb tide ; 
 
200 
 
 fortunate for Mr. Turnbull it was , that he had accidentally put the 
 question. I sank under the ice, and pushed down the stream, 
 and in a few seconds felt myself grappled by him I sought, and at 
 almost the same time , the rope hauling in from above. As soon 
 as they found there was resistance , they knew that I at least , was 
 attached to it, and they hauled in quicker, not, however, until I 
 had lost my recollection. Still I clung to the rope with the force of 
 a drowning man , and Mr. Turnbull did the same to me , and we 
 shortly made our appearance at the hole in which we had been 
 plunged. A ladder was thrown across , and two of the men of the 
 Humane Society came to our assistance , pulled us out , and laid 
 us upon it. They then drew back and hauled us on the ladder to 
 a more secure situation. We were both still senseless ; but having 
 been taken to a public-house on the river side, were put to bed, 
 and medical advice having been procured, were soon restored. The 
 next morning we were able to return in a chaise to Brentford, where 
 our absence had created the greatest alarm. Mr. Turnbull spoke 
 but little the whole time ; but he often pressed my hand, and when 
 I requested him to drop me at Fulham, that I might let Stapleton 
 and his daughter know that I was safe , he consented , saying, 
 ** God bless you, my fine boy; I will see you soon.'' 
 
 When I went up the stairs of Stapleton's lodgings , I found 
 Mary by herself; she started up as soon as she saw me. 
 
 Where have you been, you naughty boy?" said she, half 
 crying, half smiling. 
 
 Under the ice," I replied, **and only thawed again this 
 morning." 
 
 Are you in earnest, Jacob?" said she; '*now don't plague 
 and frighten me , I Ve been too frightened already. I never slept 
 a wink last night." I then told her the circumstances which had 
 occurred. **I was sure something had happened," she replied. 
 **I told my father so, but he wouldn't believe it. You promised 
 to be at home to give me my lesson , and I know you never break 
 your word; but my father smoked away, and said, that when 
 boys are amused, they forget their promises, and that it was 
 nothing but human natur. O Jacob , I 'm so glad you 're back 
 again , and after what has happened , I don't mind your kissing 
 
201 
 
 me for once." And Mary held her face towards me , and returned 
 my kiss. 
 
 ** There, that must last you a long while^ recollect," said she, 
 laughing; **you must not think of another, until you 're under 
 the ice again." 
 
 ** Then I trust it will be the last," replied I, laughing. 
 
 •*You are not in love with me, Jacob, that's clear, or you 
 would not have made that answer ," replied Mary. 
 
 I had seen a great deal of Mary, and though she certainly was 
 a great flirt, yet she had many excellent and amiable qualities. 
 For the first week after her father had ^iven us the history of his 
 life , his remarks upon her mother appeared to have made a de- 
 cided impression upon her, and her conduct was much more staid 
 and demure; but as the remembrance wore off, so did her con- 
 duct become coquettish and flirting as before; still it was im- 
 possible not to be fond of her, and even with all her caprice there 
 was such a fund of real good feeling and amiableness, which when 
 called forth was certain to appear, that I often thought how dan- 
 gerous and captivating a girl she would be when she grew up. I 
 had again produced the books , which I had thrown aside with dis- 
 gust, to teach her to read and write. Her improvement was rapid, 
 and would have been still more so, if she had not been just as busy 
 in trying to make me fond of her, as she was in surmounting the 
 difficulties of her lessons. But she was very young ; and although, 
 as her father declared, it was her natur to run after the men, 
 there was every reason to hope that a year or two would render her 
 less volatile, and add to those sterling good qualities which she 
 really possessed. In heart and feeling she was a modest girl , al- 
 though the buoyancy of her spirits often carried her beyond the 
 bounds prescribed by decorum , and often called forth a blush 
 upon her own animated countenance , when her good sense , or 
 the remarks of others , reminded her of her having committed her- 
 self. It was impossible to know Mary and not like her, although, 
 at a casual meeting, a rigid person might go away with an im- 
 pression by no means favourable. As for myself, I must say, 
 that the more I was in her company, the more I was attached to 
 her , and the more I respected her. 
 
202 
 
 Old Stapleton came home in the evening. He had , as usual, 
 been smoking, and thinking of human natur, at the Feathers 
 public-house. I told him what had happened, and upon the 
 strength of it he sent for an extra pot of beer for Mary and me, 
 which he insisted upon our drinking between us — a greater proof 
 of good will on his part could not have been given. Although 
 Captain Turnbull appeared to have recovered from the effects of 
 the accident, yet it seemed that such was not the case, as the 
 morning after his arrival he was taken ill with shivering and pains 
 in his loins, which ended in ague and fever, and he did not quit 
 his bed for three or four weeks. I , on the contrary , felt no ill ef- 
 fects ; but the constitution of a youth is better able to meet such 
 violent shocks, than that of a man of sixty years old, already 
 sapped by exposure and fatigue. As the frost still continued, I 
 complied with Captain Turnbull's request to come up and stay with 
 him, and for many days , until he was able to leave his bed, I was 
 his constant nurse. The general theme of his conversation was on 
 my future prospects, and a wish that I would- embark in some pur- 
 suit or profession more likely to raise me in the world ; but on this 
 head I was positive, and also another point, which was, that I 
 would in future put myself under an obligation to no one. I could 
 not erase from my memory the injuries I had received, and my vin- 
 dictive spirit continually brooded over them. I was resolved to be 
 independent and free. I felt that in the company I was in , I was 
 with my equals, or, if there were any superiority, it was on my 
 part, arising from education, and I never would submit to be again 
 in the society of those above me , in which I was admitted as a 
 favour, and by the major part looked down upon, and at the same 
 time liable, as I had once been, to be turned out with contumely on 
 the first moment of caprice. Still I was very fond of Captain Turn- 
 bull. He had always been kind to me , spoke to me on terms of 
 equality , and had behaved with consistency , and my feelings to- 
 wards him since the accident , had consequently strengthened ; 
 but we always feel an increased regard towards those to whom we 
 have been of service , and my pride was softened by the reflection 
 that whatever might be Mr. TurnbulFs good-will toward me , he 
 never could , even if I would permit it, repay me for the life which 
 
203 
 
 I had preserved. Towards him I felt unbounded regard — towards 
 those who had ill-treated me, unlimited hatred ; towards the world 
 in general a mixture of feeling which I could hardly analyse ; and, 
 as far as regarded myself, a love of Jiberty and independence, 
 which nothing would ever have induced me to compromise. As I did 
 not wish to hurt Captain TurnbuU's feelings by a direct refusal to 
 all his proffers of service , and remarks upon the advantages which 
 might arise , I generally made an evasive answer ; but when on the 
 day proposed for my departure , he at once came to the point, of- 
 fering me every thing, and observing that he was childless , and 
 therefore my acceptance of his offer would be injurious to nobody, 
 when he took me by the hand, and drawing me near to him, passed 
 his arm round me, and spoke to me in the kind accents of a father, 
 almost entreating me to consent — the tears of gratitude coursed 
 each other rapidly down my cheeks, but my resolution was no less 
 firm — although it was with a faltering voice that I replied , You 
 have been very kind to me, Sir — very kind — and I shall never 
 forget it ; and I hope I shall deserve it — but — Mr. Drummond, 
 and Mrs. Drummond, and Sarah, were also kind to me — very 
 kind to me — you know the rest. I will remain as I am , if you 
 please ; and if you wish to do me a kindness — if you wish me to 
 love you , as I really do , let me be as I am — free and indepen- 
 dent. I beg it of you as the greatest favour that you can possibly 
 confer on me — the only favour which I can accept, or shall be 
 truly thankful for." 
 
 Captain TurnbuU was some minutes before he could reply. He 
 then said^ — **I see it is useless, and I will not tease you any 
 more; but, Jacob, do not let the first injustice which you have 
 received from your fellow-creatures prey so much upon your mind, 
 or induce you to form the mistaken idea that the world is bad. As 
 you live on, you will find much good; and recollect, that those who 
 have injured you, from the misrepresentation of others, have been 
 willing, and have offered , to repair their fault. They can do no 
 more , and I wish you could get over this vindictive feeling. Re- 
 collect , we must forgive , as we hope to be forgiven." 
 
 '*I do forgive — at least, I do sometimes," replied I, **for Sa- 
 rah's sake but I can't always." 
 
204 
 
 ** But you ought to forgive , for other reasons , Jacob." 
 
 ** I know I ought — but if I cannot , I cannot." 
 
 *'Nay, my boy, I never heard you talk so — I was going to say 
 — wickedly. Do you not perceive that you are now in error? You 
 will not abandon a feeling which your own good sense and religion 
 tell you to be wrong — you cling to it — and yet you will admit of 
 no excuse for the errors of others." 
 
 "I feel what you say — and the truth of it, Sir," replied I; 
 ** but I cannot combat the feeling. I will therefore admit every ex- 
 cuse you please , for the faults of others ; but at the same time , I 
 am surely not to be blamed if I refuse to put myself in a situation 
 where I am again liable to meet with mortification. Surely I am 
 not to be censured , if I prefer to work for my bread after my own 
 fashion, and prefer the river to dry land?" 
 
 '* No , that I acknowledge ; but what I dislike in the choice is, 
 that it is dictated by feelings of resentment." 
 
 '*What 's done can't be helped," replied I, quickly, 
 wishing to break off the conversation. 
 
 *'Very true, Jacob; but I follow that up with another of 
 your remarks, which is, 'Better luck next time.* God bless 
 you, my boy; take care of yourself, and don't get under the ice 
 again!" 
 
 **For you I would to-morrow," replied I, taking the prof- 
 fered hand ; '* but if I could only see that Hodgson near a hole — " 
 You 'd not push him in ? " 
 
 **IndeedI would," replied I, bitterly, 
 
 ** Jacob , you would not, I tell you — you think so now, but if 
 you saw him in distress , you would assist him as you did me. I 
 know you , my boy , better than you know yourself." 
 
 Whether Captain Turnbull or I were right, i^emains to be 
 proved in the sequel. We then shook hands, and I hastened 
 away to sec Mary, whom I had often thought of during my 
 absence. 
 
 ** Who do you think has been here? " said Mary, after our first 
 greeting. 
 
 I cannot guess," replied I. Not old Tom and his son?" 
 **No; I don't think it was old Tom, but it was such an old 
 
205 
 
 quiz — with such a nose — 0 heavens ! I thought I should have died 
 with laughing as soon as he went down stairs. Do you know, Ja- 
 cob , that I made love to him , just to see how he 'd take it. You 
 know who it is now?" 
 
 '* 0 yes ! you mean the Domine , my schoolmaster/' 
 ** Yes, he told me so; and I talked so much about you, and 
 about your teaching me to read and write , and how fond I was of 
 learning, and how I should like to be married to an elderly man 
 who was a great scholar , who would teach me Latin and Greek, 
 that the old gentleman became quite chatty , and sat for two hours 
 talking to me. He desired me to say that he should call here to- 
 morrow afternoon , and I begged him to stay the evening , as you 
 are to have two more of your friends here. Now, who do you think 
 are those?" 
 
 I have no others , except old Tom Beazeley and his son." 
 **Well, it is your old Tom after all, and a nice old fellow he 
 is, although I would not like him for a husband; but as for 
 his son — he 's a lad after my own heart — I *m quite in love with 
 him." 
 
 '*Your love will do you no harm, Mary; but recollect, what 
 may be a joke to you may not be so to other people. As for the Do- 
 mine meeting old Beazeley and his son , I don't exactly know how 
 that will suit , for I doubt if he will like to see them." 
 
 ''Why not?" inquired Mary. 
 
 Upon a promise never to hint at them , I briefly stated the cir- 
 cumstances attending the worthy man's voyage on board of the 
 lighter. Mary paused, and then said, ** Jacob, did we not read 
 the last time, that the most dangerous rocks to men were wine 
 and women?" 
 
 *' Yes , we did , if I recollect right." 
 Humph," said she; **the old gentleman has given plenty 
 of lessons in his time , and it appears that he has received one." 
 
 ** We may do so to the last day of our existence , Mary." 
 
 *'Well, he is a very clever, learned man, I've no doubt, and 
 looks down upon all us (not you , Jacob) as silly people. I '11 try 
 if / can't give him a lesson." 
 
 **You, Mary, what can you teach him?" 
 
206 
 
 "Never mind , we shall see; " and Mary turned the discourse 
 on her father. ' ' You know , I suppose , that father is gone up to 
 Mr. Turnbull's." 
 
 ''No, I did not." 
 
 "Yes , he has ; he was desired to go there this morning, and 
 hasn't been back since. Jacob, I hope you wo'n't be so foolish 
 again , for I don't want to lose my master." 
 
 " O , never fear ; I shall teach you all you want to know before 
 I die," I replied. 
 
 "Don't be too sure of that," replied Mary, fixing her large blue 
 eyes upon me ; "how do you know how much I may wish to have 
 of your company?" 
 
 "Well , if I walk off in a hurry , I '11 make you over to young 
 Tom Beazeley. You 're half in love with him already , you know," 
 replied I, laughing. 
 
 "Well, he is a nice fellow," replied she; "he laughs more 
 than you do, Jacob.'' 
 
 "He has suffered less," replied I, gloomily, calling to mind 
 what had occurred ; "but, Mary, he is a fine young man, and a 
 good-hearted clever fellow to boot; and when you do know him, 
 you will like him very much." As I said this , I heard her father 
 coming up stairs ; he came in high good humour with his interview 
 with Captain Turnbull, called for his pipe and pot, and was exces- 
 sively fluent upon "human natur.'* 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 *'TIie feast of reason and the flow of soul." — Stapleton, on human 
 nature, proves the former; the Domine, in his melting mood, the 
 latter. — Sail's shoe particularly noted, and the true "reading made 
 easy" of a mind at ease, by old Tom. 
 
 Thk afternoon of the next day I heard a well-known* voice, 
 which carolled forth , as Mary huddled up her books , and put 
 them out of the way ; for at that time I was , as usual , giving her 
 a lesson ; 
 
 *'And many strange sights I 've seen, 
 And long 1 're been a rover, 
 And every where I 've been, 
 But now the wars are over. 
 
207 
 
 1 've been across the line, 
 Where the sun will burn your nose off, 
 And I 've been in northern climes, 
 Where the frost would bite your toes off. 
 Fal de ral, fal de ral, fal de ral de liddy. 
 
 ** Heave a-head, Tom, and let me stump up at my leisure. It 's 
 like warping 'gainst wind and tide with me — and I gets up about 
 as fast as lawyers go to heaven." 
 
 I thought when Tom came up first, that he had been at an un- 
 usual trouble in setting off his person, and certainly a better-look- 
 ing, frank, open, merry countenance, was seldom to be seen. In 
 person he was about an inch taller than I , athletic , and well- 
 formed. He made up to Mary, who, perceiving his impatience, 
 and either to check him before me , or else from her usual feeling 
 of coquetry , received him rather distantly , and went up to old 
 Tom, with whom she shook hands warmly. 
 
 * * Whew ! what 's in the wind now , Jacob ? Why , we parted 
 the best friends in the world said Tom , looking at Mary. 
 
 Sheer off yourself, Tom," replied I laughing ; **and you'll 
 see that she '11 come to again." 
 
 " Oh, oh ! so the wind's in that quarter, is it? " replied Tom, 
 ** with all my heart — I can show false colours as well as she can. 
 But I say, Jacob, before I begin my manoeuvres, tell me if 
 you wish me to hoist the neutral flag — for I wo'n't interfere with 
 you." 
 
 Here *s my hand upon it, Tom, that the coast is clear as far as 
 I 'm concerned ; but take care — she 's a clipper, and not unlikely 
 to slip through your fingers , even when you have her under your 
 lee, within hail." 
 
 ** Let me alone, Jacob, for that." 
 
 ** And more, Tom, when you 're in possession of her, she will 
 require a good man at the helm." 
 
 Then she 's just the craft after my fancy. I hate your steady, 
 slow-sailing craft, that will steer themselves, almost; give me one 
 that requires to be managed by a man , and a seaman." 
 
 ** If well manned, she will do any thing, depend upon it, Tom, 
 for she 's as sound below as possible ; and although she is down to 
 
208 
 
 her bearings on the puff of the moment, yet she 'd not careen 
 further.'* 
 
 **Well, then, Jacob, all 's right; and now you \e told me 
 what tack she 's on , see if I don't shape a course to cut her off.'* 
 
 "Well, Jacob, my good boy , so you 've been under the water 
 again ; I thought you had enough of it when Fleming gave you such 
 a twist; but, however, this time you went to sarve a friend, which 
 was all right. My sarvice to you , Mr. Stapleton continued old 
 Tom, as Stapleton made his appearance. "I was talking to Jacob 
 about his last dive." 
 
 Nothing but human natur replied Stapleton. 
 
 '*WelI, now," replied old Tom, consider that going plump 
 into the river, when covered with ice, to be quite contrary to human 
 natur." 
 
 . "But not to save a friend, father?" 
 
 "No — because that be Jacob's nature ; so you see, one nature 
 conquered the other, and that 's the whole long and short of it. " 
 
 "Well, now, suppose we sit down and make ourselves com- 
 fortable," observed Stapleton; "but here be somebody else 
 coming up — who can it be ? " 
 
 "I say, old codger, considering you be as deaf as a post, you 
 hears pretty well," said old Tom. 
 
 "Yes, I hear very well in the house, provided people don't 
 speak loud. " 
 
 "Well, that 's a queer sort of deafness; I think we are all 
 troubled with the same complaint," cried Tom, laughing. 
 
 During this remark the Domine made his appearance, Salve 
 Do mine," said I upon his entering, taking my worthy peda- 
 gogue by the hand. 
 
 "Et tu quoque, fill mi, Jacobe! but whom have we 
 here? the deaf man, the maiden, and — - ehu! — the old man 
 called old Tom , and likewise the young Tom ; " and the Domine 
 looked very grave. 
 
 "Nay, Sir," said young Tom, going up to the Domine, "I 
 know you are angry with us, because we both drank too much when 
 we were last in your company; but we promise — don't we, 
 father? — not to do so again." 
 
209 
 
 This judicious reply of young Tom's put the Domine more at 
 his ease ; what he most feared was raillery and exposure on their 
 parts. 
 
 ** Very true, old gentleman ; Tom and I did bowse our jibs up 
 a little too taut when last we met — but what then? — there was 
 the grog, and there was nothing to do." 
 
 * ' All human natur observed Stapleton. 
 
 ** Come , Sir , you have not said one word to me ,** said Mary, 
 going up to the Domine. Now you must sit down by me , and 
 take care of me , and see that they all behave themselves and keep 
 sober." 
 
 The Domine cast a look at Mary , which was intended for her 
 alone, but which was not unperceived by young Tom or me. * * We 
 shall have some fun , Jacob " said he , aside , as we all sat down 
 to the table , which just admitted six , with close stowage. The 
 Domine on one side of Mary, Tom on the other, Stapleton next to 
 Tom, then I and old Tom, who closed in on the other side of the 
 Domine , putting one of his timber toes on the old gentleman's 
 corns, which induced him to lift up his leg in a hurry, and draw 
 his chair still closer to Mary, to avoid a repetition of the accident; 
 while old Tom was axing pardon, and Stapleton demonstrating that 
 on the part of old Tom, not to feel with a wooden leg, and on the 
 part of the Domine , to feel with a bad corn, was all nothing but 
 *'human natur." At last we were all seated , and Mary, who 
 had provided for the evening , produced two or three pots of beer, 
 a bottle of spirits, pipes, and tobacco. 
 
 Liberty Hall — I smokes," said Stapleton, lighting his pipe, 
 and falling back on his chair. 
 
 '* I '11 put a bit of clay in my mouth too," followed up old Tom ; 
 **it makes one thirsty, and enjoy one's liquor." ^ 
 
 ** Well, I malts," said Tom, reaching a potof porter, and taking 
 a long pull, till he was out of breath. * * What do you do, Jacob ? " 
 
 ** I shall wait a little, Tom." 
 
 **And what do you do, Sir?" said Mary to the Domine. The 
 Domine shook his head. ** Nay , but you must — or I shall think 
 you do not like my company. Come, let mc fill a pipe for you." 
 Mary tilled a pipe , and handed it to the Domine , who hesitated, 
 Jacob Faithful. 14 
 
210 
 
 looked at her, and was overcome. He lighted it and smoked 
 furiously. 
 
 *'The ice is breaking up — we shall have a change of weather 
 — the moon quarters to-morrow," observed old Tom, puffing 
 between every observation ; and then honest men may earn their 
 bread again. Bad times for you, old codger, heh! " continued he, 
 addressing Stapleton, Stapleton nodded an assent through the 
 smoke , which was first perceived by old Tom. Well , he ar'n't 
 deaf, a'ter all; I thought he was only shamming a bit. I say, 
 Jacob , this is the weather to blo^ your fingers , and make your 
 eyes bright." 
 
 Rather to blow a cloud and make your eyes water," replied 
 Tom, taking up the pot: "I'm just as thirsty with swalbwing 
 smoke, as if I had a pipe myself — at all events , I pipe my eye. 
 Jacob," continued Tom, to me apart, *Mo look how the old gen- 
 tleman is f u n k i n g Mary, and casting sheep's eyes at her through 
 the smoke. " 
 
 *' He appears as if he were inclined to board her in the smoke," 
 replied I. 
 
 '*Yes, and she to make no fight of it, but surrender imme- 
 diately," said Tom. 
 
 "Don't you believe it, Tom; I know her better; she wants to 
 laugh at him ; nothing more ; she winked her eye at me just now, 
 but I would not laugh, as I do not choose that the old gentleman 
 should be trifled with. I will tax her severely to-morrow." 
 
 During all this time old Tom and Stapleton smoked in silence : 
 the Domine made use of his eyes in dumb parlance to Mary, who 
 answered him with her own bright glances, and Tom and I began 
 to find it rather dull; when at last old Tom's pipe was exhausted, 
 and he laid it dqjivn. ' * There, 1 '11 smoke no more — the worst of 
 a pipe is, that one can't smoke and talk at the same time. Mary, 
 •my girl , take your eyes off the Domine's nose , and hand me that 
 bottle of stuff. What, glass to mix it in , that 's more genteel than 
 we are on board , Tom." Tom filled a rummer of grog, took half 
 off at a huge sip , and put it down on the table. "Will you do as 
 we do. Sir?" said he, addressing the Domine. 
 
 "Nay, . friend Dux, nay — pr'ythee persuade me not - 
 
211 
 
 avaunt ! " and the Domiue, with an appearance of horror, turned 
 away from the bottle handed towards him by old Tom. 
 
 Not drink any thing?" said Mary to the Domine, looking at 
 him with surprise; *'but indeed you must, or I shall think you 
 despise us, and do not think us fit to be in your company. '* 
 
 ' ' Nay maiden, entreat me not. Ask any thing of me but this," 
 replied the Domine. 
 
 *' Ask any thing but this — that 's just the way people have of 
 refusing," replied Mary ; ** were I to ask any thing else , it would 
 be the same answer — 'ask any thing but this.' Now if you will 
 not drink to please me , I shall quarrel with you. You shall drink 
 a glass, and I'll mix it for you." The Domine shook his head. 
 Mary made a glass of grog , and then put it to her lips. "Now if 
 you refuse to drink it, after I have tasted it, I'll never speak to you 
 again." So saying she handed the glass to the Domine. 
 
 "Verily, maiden, I must needs refuse, for I did make a 
 mental vow." 
 
 "What vow was that? was it sworn on the Bible? " 
 
 "Nay, not on the sacred book, but in my thoughts, most 
 solemnly." 
 
 " 0 ! I make those vows every day, and never keep one of them ; 
 so that wo'n't do. Now, observe, I give you one more chance. I 
 shall ^rink a little more , and if you do not immediately put your 
 lips to the same part of the tumbler, I'll never drink to you again.'* 
 Mary put the tumbler again to her lips , drank a little , with her 
 eyes fixed upon the Domine , who watched her with distended no- 
 strils and muscular agitation of countenance. With her sweetest 
 smile, she handed him the tumbler; the Domine half held out his 
 hand, withdrew it, put it down again, and by degrees took the 
 tumbler. Mary conquered, and I watched the malice of her look 
 as the liquor trickled down the Domine's throat. Tom and I ex- 
 changed glances. The Domine put down the tumbler , and then, 
 looking round like a guilty person , coloured up to the eyes ; but 
 Mary, who perceived that her victory was but half achieved, put 
 her hand upon his shoulder , and asked him to let her taste the 
 grog again. I also, to make him feel more at ease, helped my- 
 self to a glass. Tom did the s«mc , and old Tom , with more 
 
212 
 
 regard to the feelings of the Domine than in his own bluntness of 
 character I would have given him credit for, said in a quiet tone, 
 **The old gentleman is afraid of grog, because he seed me take a 
 drop too much , but that's no reason why grog ar'n't a good thing, 
 and wholesome , in moderation. A glass or two is very well , and 
 better still when sweetened by the lips of a pretty girl ; and even if 
 the Domine does not like it, he's too much of a gentleman not to 
 give up his dislikes to please a lady. More's the merit; for if he 
 did like it, it would be no sacrifice, that's sartain. Don't you think 
 so, my old boozer?" continued he, addressing Stapleton, who 
 smoked in silence. 
 
 ** Human natur " replied Stapleton , taking the pipe out of his 
 mouth , and spitting under the table. 
 
 "Very true, master; and so here's to your health, Mr. Do- 
 mine , and may you never want a pretty girl to talk to, or a glass of 
 grog to drink her health with." 
 
 **0 but the Domine don't care about pretty girls, father," 
 replied Tom; "he's too learned and clever; he thinks about 
 nothing but the moon , and Latin , and Greek , and philosophy, 
 and all that." 
 
 "Who can say what's under the skin , Tom? there's no know- 
 ing what is , and what isn't — Sail's shoe for that." 
 
 * * Never heard of Sail's shoe , father ; that's new to me." 
 
 "Didn't I ever tell you that, Tom? — Well, then, you shall 
 have it now — that is , if all the company be agreeable." 
 
 "Oyes," cried Mary; "pray tell us." 
 
 " Would you like to hear it , Sir ? " 
 
 "I never heard of Sail Sue in my life , and would fain hear her 
 history," replied the Domine ; "proceed, friend Dux." 
 
 "Well, then, you must know when I was a -board of the 
 Terp-sy- chore, there was a fore-topman, of the name of Bill 
 Harness, a good sort of chap enough, but rather soft in the upper- 
 works. Now we'd been on the Jamaica station for some years, 
 and had come home , and merry enough , and happy enough we 
 were , (those that were left of us,) and we were spending our 
 money like the devil. Bill Harness had a wife , who was very fond 
 of he , and he were very fond of she , but she was a slatternly sort 
 
213 
 
 of a body, never tidy in her rigging, all adrift at all times, and 
 what's more , she never had a shoe up at heel , so she went by the 
 name of Slatternly Sail , and the first lieutenant, who was a Hicu- 
 lar sort of a chap , never liked to see her on deck , for you see she 
 put her hair in paper on New Year's day, and never changed it or 
 took it out till the year came round again. However, be it as it 
 may be , she loved Bill , and Bill loved she , and they were very 
 happy together. A'ter all, it ar'n't whether a woman 's tidy 
 without, that makes a man's happiness , it depends upon whether 
 she be right within ; that is , if she be good-tempered , and obli- 
 ging, and civil, and 'commodating, and so forth. A'ter the first 
 day or two , person 's nothing — eyes get palled , like the capstern 
 when the anchor 's up to the bows ; but what a man likes is , not 
 to be disturbed by vagaries , or gusts of temper. Well , Bill was 
 happy — but one day he was devilish unhappy, because Sail had 
 lost one of her shoes , which wasn't to be wondered at, consider- 
 ing as how she. was always slipshod. 'Who has seen my wife's 
 shoe?' says he. *Hang your wife's shoe/ said one, *it warn't 
 worth casting an eye upon.' Still he cried out, *Who has seen 
 my wife's shoe?' *I seed it,' says another. * Where?' says Bill. 
 * I seed it down at heel ,' says the fellow. But Bill still hallooed 
 out about his wife's shoe, which it appeared she had dropped off 
 her foot as she was going up the forecastle ladder to take the air a 
 bit, just as it was dark. At last. Bill made so n\uch fuss about 
 it that the ship's company laughed, and all called out to each other, 
 *Who has seen Sail's shoe?' — * Have you got Sail's shoe?' and 
 they passed the word fore and aft the whole evening, till they went 
 to their hammocks. Notwithstanding, as Sail's shoe was not 
 forthcoming , the next morning Bill goes on the quarter deck , and 
 complains to the first lieutenant, as how he had lost Sail's shoe. 
 •D — n Sail's shoe,' said he, * haven't I enough to look after 
 without your wife's confounded shoes , which can't be worth two- 
 pence?' Well, Bill argues that his wife has only one shoe left, and 
 that wo'n't keep two feet dry, and begs the first lieutenant to 
 order a search for it; but the first lieutenant turns away, and 
 tells him to go to the devil , and all the men grin at Bill's making 
 such a fuss about nothing. So Bill at last goes up to the first 
 
214 
 
 lieutenant, and whispers something, and the first lieutenant booms 
 him off with his speaking trumpet, as if he was making too free, in 
 whispering to his commanding officer, and then sends for the 
 master-at-arms. * Collier,' says he, *this man has lost his 
 Wife's shoe : let a search be made for it immediately — take all the 
 ship's boys, and look every where for it; if you find it bring it up 
 to me.' So away goes the master-at-arms with his cane, and 
 collects all the boys to look for Sail's shoe — and they go peeping 
 about the maindeck, under the guns, and under the hen-coops, 
 and in the sheep-pen, and every where; now and then getting a 
 smart slap with the cane behind , upon the taut part of their trow- 
 sers , to make them look sharp , until they all wished Sail's shoe at 
 Old Nick and her too , and Bill in the bargain. At last one of the 
 boys picks it out of the manger, where it had lain all the night, 
 poked up and down by the noses of the pigs , who didn't think it 
 eatable, although it might have smelt human -like; the fact was, 
 it was the same boy who had picked up Sail's, shoe when she 
 dropped it, and had shied it forward. It sartainly did not seem to 
 be worth all the trouble , but howsomever it was taken aft by the 
 master-at-arms , and laid on the capstern head. Then Bill steps 
 out, and takes the shoe before the first lieutenant, and cuts it 
 open, and from between the lining pulls out four ten -pound notes, 
 which Sail had sewn up there by way of security ; and the first 
 lieutenant tells Bill he was a great fool to trust his money in the 
 shoe of a woman who always went slipshod , and tells him to go 
 about his business , and stow his money away in a safer place next 
 time. A'ter, if any thing was better than it looked to be, the 
 ship's company used always to say it was like SalTs shoe. 
 There you have it all." 
 
 **Well," says Stapleton, taking the pipe out of his mouth, 
 I know a fact, much of a muchness with that, which happened 
 to me when I was below the river, tending a ship at Sheerness — 
 for at one time, d'ye see, I used to ply there. She was an old 
 fifty- gun ship , called the Adamant, if I recollect right. One day, 
 the first lieutenant, who, like yourn, was a mighty particular 
 sort of chap , was going round the maindeck, and he sees an old 
 pair of canvass trowsers stowed in under the trunnion of one of the 
 
215 
 
 guns. So says he, * Whose be these?' Now no man would answer, 
 because they knowed very well that it would be as good as a fort- 
 night in the black list. With that, the first lieutenant bundles them 
 out of the port, and away they floats astern with the tide. It was 
 about half an hour after that, that I comes off with the milk for 
 the wardroom mess , and a man named Will Heaviside , saj^ to 
 me, 'Stapleton,' says he, *the first lieutenant has thrown my 
 canvass trowsers overboard , and be d — d to him ; now I must 
 have them back.* 'But where be they?' says I: 'I suppose 
 down at the bottom by this time, and the flat-fish dubbing their 
 noses into them.' *No, no,* says he, *they wo'n't never sink, 
 but float till eternity; they be gone down with the tide, and 
 they wiU come back again: only you keep a sharp look out for 
 them, and I '11 give you five shillings if you bring them.' Well, 
 I seed little chance of ever seeing them again, or of my seeing five 
 shillings, but as it so happened next tide, the very 'denticle pair 
 of trowsers comes up staring me in the face. I pulls them in , and 
 takes them to Will Heaviside , who appears to be mightily pleased, 
 and gives me the money. * I wouldn't have lost them for ten , no, 
 not for twenty pounds,' says he. *At all events you've paid me 
 more than they are worth,' says I. *Have I?' says he; * stop a 
 bit;' and he outs with his knife, and rips open the waistband, 
 and pulls out a piece of Hnen , and out of the piece of linen he pulls 
 out a child's caul. *There,' says he, *now you knows why 
 the trowsers wouldn't sink , and I 'II leave you to judge whether 
 they ar'n't worth five shillings.' That's my story." 
 
 *' Well , I can't understand how it is , that a caul should keep 
 people up ," observed old Tom. 
 
 "At all events, a call makes people come up fast enough on 
 board a man of war, father." 
 
 **That 's true enough, but I 'm talking of a child's caul, not 
 of a boatswain's , Tom." 
 
 **I'lljust tell you how it is," replied Stapleton, whohadre- 
 commenced smoking; ''it's human natur." 
 
 '* What is your opinion , Sir?" said Mary to the Domine. 
 
 *'Maideti," replied the Domine, taking his pipe out of his 
 mouth, ** I opine that it 's a vulgar error. Sir Thomas Brown, I 
 
216 
 
 think it is , hath the same idea ; many and strange were the su- 
 perstitions which have been handed down by our less enlightened 
 ancestors — all of which mists have been cleared away by the pow- 
 erful rays of truth." 
 
 Well , but master, if a vulgar error saves a man from Davy 
 Jonfs's locker, ar'n't it just as well to sew it up in the waistband 
 of your trowsers?" 
 
 Granted, good Dux, if it would save a man; but how is it 
 possible? it is contrary to the first elements of science." 
 
 What matter does that make, provided it holds a man up?'* 
 
 ** Friend Dux , thou art obtuse." 
 
 **Well, perhaps I am, as I don't know what that is." 
 
 **But, father, don't you recollect," interrupted Tom, *^what 
 the parson said last Sunday , that faith saved men ? Now , Master 
 Domine, may it not be the faith that a man has in the caul, 
 which may save him ? " 
 
 * * Young Tom , thou art astute ." 
 
 ** Well, perhaps I am , as father said, for I don't know what 
 that is. You knock us all down with your dictionary." 
 
 ''Well, I do love to hear people make use of such hard words," 
 said Mary, looking at the Domine. "How very clever you must 
 be, Sir! I wonder whether I shall ever understand them?" 
 
 *'Nay, if thou wilt, I will initiate — sweet maiden, will steal 
 an hour or so to impregnate thy mind with the seeds of learning, 
 which in so fair a soil must needs bring forth good fruit?" 
 
 '' That's a fine word that impregnate — will you give us the 
 English of it, Sir?'* said young Tom to the Domine. 
 
 '*It is English, Tom, only the old gentleman razeed it a little. 
 The third ship in the lee line of the Channel fleet was a eighty, 
 called the Impregnable, but the old gentleman knows more 
 about books than sea matters." 
 
 *' A marvellous misconception," quoth the Domine. 
 
 /'There's another," cried Tom, laughing; "that must be js 
 three-decker. Come , father , here 's the bottle , you must take 
 another glass to wash that down." 
 
 "Pray what was the meaning of that last long word, Sir," said 
 Mary , taking the Domine by the arm , "mis — something." 
 
217 
 
 * ' The word replied the Domine , * ' is a compound from con- 
 ception, borrowed from the Latin tongue, implying conceiving; 
 and the mis prefixed, which negatives or reverses the meaning; 
 misconception therefore implies not to conceive. I can make you 
 acquainted with many others of a similar tendency as mis- con- 
 ception ; videlicet , mis- apprehension , mis- understanding, 
 mis- contriving, mis-applying, mis—" 
 
 **Dearme, what a many misses," cried Mary, **anddo 
 you know them all? " 
 
 ** Indeed do I," replied the Domine, **andmany, many more 
 are treasured in my memory, quod nunc describere longum 
 est." 
 
 Well, I'd no idea that the old gentleman was given to run- 
 ning after the girls in that way," said old Tom to Stapleton. 
 
 Human natur," replied the other. 
 *'Nomore did I," continued Mary ; **I shall have nothing to 
 say to him ; " and she drew off her chair a few inches from that of 
 the Domine. 
 
 "Maiden," quoth the Domine , **thou art under a mistake." 
 Another miss, I declare," cried Tom, laughing. 
 
 ** What an old Turk ! " continued Mary , gelling farther off. 
 
 *'Nay, then, I will not reply ," said the Domine, indignantly 
 putting down his pipe , leaning back on his chair , and pulling out 
 his great red handkerchief, which he applied to his nose , and pro- 
 duced a sound that made the windows of the little parlour vibrate 
 for some seconds. 
 
 *'Isay, master Tom, don't you make too free with your bet- 
 ters ," said old Tom , when he perceived the Domine affronted. 
 
 **Nay," replied the Domine, *Mhere 's an old adage which 
 saith, *As the old cock crows, so doth the young.* Wherefore 
 didst thou set'him the example? " 
 
 *'Yery true, old gentleman, and I axes your pardon, and 
 here 's my hand upon it." 
 
 **AndsodoI, Sir, and here 's my hand upon it," said young 
 Tom , extending his on the Domine's other side. 
 
 **rriendDux, and thou young Tom , I do willingly accept thy 
 proffered reconciliation ; knowing, as I well do , that there may be 
 
218 
 
 much mischief in thy composition, but naught of malice." The 
 Domine extended his hands , and shook both those offered to him 
 warmly. 
 
 There," said old Tom, ''now my mind's at ease, as old 
 Pigtown said." 
 
 "I know not the author whom thou quotest from, good 
 Dux." 
 
 "Author! — I never said he was an author; he was only cap- 
 tain of a schooner , trading between the islands , that I sailed with 
 a few weeks in the West Indies." 
 
 "Perhaps, then, you will relate to the company present, the 
 circumstances which took place to put old Pegtop's — (I may not 
 be correct in the name) but whoever it may be — " 
 
 "Pigtown, master." 
 
 "Well, then — that put old Pigtown's mind at ease — for I am 
 marvellously amused with thy narrations , which do pass away the 
 time most agreeably , good Dux." 
 
 "With all my heart, old gentleman ; but first let us fill up our 
 tumblers. I don't know how it is, but it does appear to me that 
 grog drinks better out of a glass than out of metal ; and if it wasn't 
 that Tom is so careless — and the dog has no respect for crockery 
 any more than persons , I would have one or two on board for par- 
 ticular service; but I *ll think about that, and hear what the old 
 woman has to say on the subject. Now to my yarn. D' ye see, 
 old Pigtown commanded a little schooner, which plied between 
 the isles , and he had been in her for a matter of forty years , and 
 was as well known as Port Royal Tom." 
 
 "Who might Port Royal Tom be?" inquired the Domine; 
 ' ' a relation of yours ? " 
 
 "I hope not, master, for I wanted none of his acquaintance; 
 » he was a shark about twenty feet long, who rode guard in the 
 harbour , to prevent the men-of-war's men from deserting , and 
 was pensioned by government." 
 
 ' 'Pensioned by government ! nay, but that souudeth strangely. 
 I have heard that pensions have been most lavishly bestowed, but 
 not that it extended so far. Truly it must have been a sinecure." 
 
 "I don'tknow whatthatlastmaybe," replied old Tom ; "but 
 
219 
 
 I heard our boatswain , in the Minerve , who talked politics a bit, 
 say, 'as how half the pensions were held by a pack of d — d sharks ; ' 
 but in this here shark's case, it wasn't in money, master; but 
 he 'd regular rations of bullock's liver to persuade him to remain in 
 the harbour and no one dare swim on shore when he was cruising 
 round and round the ships. Well, old Pigtown with his white 
 trowsers and straw hat , red nose and big belly , was as well known 
 as could be, and was a capital old fellow for remembering and 
 executing commissions, provided you gave him the money first; 
 if not, he always took care to forget them. Old Pigtown had a son, 
 a little dark or so , which proved that his mother wasn't quite as 
 fair as a lily, and this son was employed in a drogher, that is, a 
 small craft which goes round to the bays of the island, and takes 
 off the sugars to the West India traders. One fine day the drogher 
 was driven out to sea, and never heard of a'terwards. Now old 
 Pigtown was very anxious about what had come of his son, and 
 day after day expected he would come back again; but he never 
 did, for very good reasons, as you shall hear by-and-by; and 
 everyone knowing old Pigtown, and he knowing every body, it 
 was at least fifty times a day that the question was put to him, 
 *Wcll, Pigtown, have you heard any thing of your son?' And 
 fifty times a day he would reply, 'No; and my mind's but ill 
 at ease.' Well, it was two or three months afterwards, that 
 when I was in the schooner with him , as we lay becalmed between 
 the islands , with the sun frizzing our wigs, and the planks so hot 
 that you couldn't walk without your shoes , that we hooked a large 
 shark which came bowling under our counter. We got him ou 
 board and cut him up. When we opened his inside , what should 
 I see but something shining. I took it out, and sure enough it 
 was a silver watch. So I hands it to old Pigtown. He looks at it 
 very 'tentively , opens the outside case, reads the maker's name, 
 and then shuts it up again. ' This here watch ,' says he , 'belonged 
 to my son Jack. I bought it of a chap in a South Whaler for three 
 dollars and a roll of pigtail, and a very good watch it was , though 
 I perceive it to be stopped now.. Now , d* ye see , it 's all clear — 
 the drogher must have gone down in a squall — the shark must 
 have picked up my son Jack, and must have disgested his body, 
 
220 
 
 but has not been able to d i s g e s t his watch. Now I knows what 's 
 become of him, and so — my mind's at ease." 
 
 ** Well," observed old Stapleton, I agrees with old Poptown, 
 or whatever his name might be , that it were better to know the 
 worst at once , than to be kept on the worry all your days. I con- 
 sider it 's nothing but human natur. Why, if one has a bad tooth, 
 which is the best plan, to have it out with one good wrench at once, 
 or to be tormented night and day the whole year round? " 
 
 **Thou speakest wisely, friend Stapleton, and like a man of 
 resolve , — the anticipation is often , if not always , more painful 
 than the reality. Thou knowest , Jacob, how often I have allowed a 
 boy to remain unbuttoned in the centre of the room for an hour 
 previous to the application of the birch — and it was with the con- 
 sideration that the impression would be greater upon his mind 
 than even upon his nether parts. Of all the feelings in the human 
 breast , that of suspense is — " 
 
 **Worsethan hanging," interrupted young Tom. 
 
 **Even so, boy, [cluck, cluck,] an apt comparison, seeing 
 that in suspense you are hanging, as it were , in the very region of 
 doubt, without being able to obtain a footing even upon conjecture. 
 Nay, we may further add another simile, although not so well 
 borne out, which is, that the agony of suspense doth stop the 
 breath of a man for the time , as hanging doth stop it altogether, so 
 that it may be truly said , that suspense is put an end to by sus- 
 pending." [Cluck, cluck.] 
 
 And now that you 've got rid of all that, master, suppose you 
 fdl up your pipe ," observed old Tom. 
 
 '*AndI will fill up your tumbler. Sir," said Mary; for you 
 must be dry with talking such hard words." 
 
 The Domine this time made no objection , and again enveloped 
 Mary and himself in a cloud of smoke, through which his nose 
 loomed like an Indiaman in a Channel fog. 
 
221 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 The DomIne*g bosom grows too -warm; so the party and the frost break 
 up. — I go with the stream and against it; make money both ways. — 
 Coolness between Mary and me. — No chance of a Thames* edition of 
 Abelard and Eloise. — Love, learning, and Latin all lost in a fit of 
 the sulks. 
 
 ^ ** I SA Y , master Stapleton , suppose we were to knock out half 
 a port/' observed old Tom , after a silence of two minutes; **for 
 the old gentleman blows a devil of a cloud : that is , if no one has 
 an objection." Stapleton gave a nod of assent , and I rose and put 
 the upper window down a few inches. **Ay, that's right, Jacob; 
 now we shall see what Miss Mary and he are about. You 've been 
 enjoying the lady all to yourself, master," continued Tom, 
 addressing the Domine. 
 
 ** Verily and truly," replied the Domine, **even as a second 
 Jupiter." 
 
 ** Never heard of him." 
 
 *' I presume not ; still , Jacob will tell thee that the history is to 
 be found in Ovid's Metamorphoses." 
 
 *' Never heard of the country , master." 
 
 "Nay, friend Dux, it is a book not a country, in which thou 
 mayst read how Jupiter at first descended unto Semele in a 
 cloud." 
 
 "And pray, where did he come from , master." 
 "He came from heaven." 
 
 ,"The devil he did. Well, if ever I gets there, I mean to 
 stay." 
 
 " It was love , all-powerful love , which induced him , maiden ," 
 replied the Domine , turning, with a smiling eye, to Mary. 
 
 "'Bove my comprehension altogether," replied old Tom. 
 
 "Human natur," muttered Stapleton , with the pipe still be- 
 tween his lips. 
 
 "Not the first vessels that have run foul in a fog," observed 
 young Tom. 
 
 "No, boy; but generally there ar'n't much love bethem at 
 those times. But, come, now that we can breathe again, suppose I 
 
222 
 
 give you a song. What shall it be , young woman , a sea ditty , or 
 something spooney?" 
 
 '*0! something about love , if you 've no objection , Sir," said 
 Mary, appeahng to the Domine. 
 
 Nay , it pleaseth me , maiden , and I am of thy mind. Friend 
 Dux, let it be Anacreontic." 
 
 " What the devil 's that?" cried old Tom, lifting up his eyes, 
 and taking the pipe out of his mouth. 
 
 **Nothingof your own, father, that's clear; but something to 
 borrow, for it's to be on tick," replied Tom. 
 
 ** Nay, boy, I would have been understood that the song should 
 refer to woman or wine." 
 
 **Both of which are to his fancy ," observed young Tom to me, 
 aside. 
 
 **Humqjft natur," quaintly observed Stapleton. 
 Well , then , you shall have your wish. I *11 give you one that 
 might be warbled in a lady's chamber, without stirring the silk 
 curtains. 
 
 "Oh I the days are g^one hy when heauty bright 
 
 My heart's chain wove, 
 When my dream o£ life , from morn to night. 
 
 Was Love — still Love. 
 
 New hope may bloom, , 
 
 And days may come, 
 
 Of milder, calmer beam ; 
 But there 's nothing half so sweet in life 
 
 As Love's young dream; 
 01 there's nothing half so sweet in life. 
 
 As Love's young dream." 
 
 The melody of the song, added to the spirits he had drunk, and 
 Mary's eyes beaming on him , had a great effect upon the Domine. 
 As old Tom warbled out, so did the pedagogue gradually approach 
 the chair of Mary , and as gradually entwine her waist with his own 
 arm, his eyes twinkling brightly on her. Old Tom , who perceived 
 it, had given me and Tom a wink, as he repeated the two last lines ; 
 and when we saw what was going on , we burst into an uncontroll- 
 able fit of laughter. **Boys! boys!" said the Domine, starting 
 up, "thou hast awakened me, by thy boisterous mirth, from a 
 sweet musing created by the harmony of friend Dux's voice. 
 
223 
 
 Neither do I discover the source of thy cachinnation , seeing that 
 the song is amatory and not comic. Still it may not be supposed, 
 at thy early age , that thou canst be affected with what thou art too 
 young to feel. Pr'ythee continue, friend Dux — and, boys, restrain 
 thy mirth." 
 
 " Though the hard to purer fame may soar 
 AVhen wild youth 's past; 
 Though he find the wise, who frowned hefore, 
 To smile at last. 
 He '11 never meet 
 A joy so sweet 
 In all his noon of fame, 
 As when he sung to woman's ear, 
 
 The soul-felt tlame; 
 And at every close , she hlush'd to hear 
 The once-lov'd name.'* 
 
 At the commencement of this verse, theDomine appeared to 
 be on his guard; but gradually moved by the power of song, he 
 dropped his elbow on the table, and his pipe underneath it; his 
 forehead sank into his broad palm, and he remained motionless. 
 The verse ended , and the Domine forgetting all around him , softly 
 ejaculated , without looking up , Eheu ! Mary." 
 
 "Did you speak to me. Sir?" said Mary, who perceiving 
 us tittering, addressed theDomine, with a half- serious, half- 
 mocking air. 
 
 Speak, maiden? nay, I spoke not; yet thou mayest give me 
 my pipe , which apparently hath been abducted while I was listen- 
 ing to the song." 
 
 Abducted! that 's a new word; but it means smashed into 
 twenty pieces , I suppose ," observed young Tom. ** At all events, 
 your pipe is , for you let it fall between your legs." 
 
 ** Never mind," said Mary, rising from her chair , and going 
 to the cupboard; here 's another. Sir." 
 
 ''Well, master, amitolinish, or have you had enough of it?" 
 
 ''Proceed, friend Dux, proceed; and believe that I am all 
 attention." 
 
 "0 that hallowed form is ne'er forgot 
 Which first love trac'd, 
 Still it lingering haunts the greenest spot 
 On memory's waste. 
 
224 
 
 'T was odour fled 
 
 As soon as shed, 
 *T was memory's winged dream. 
 'T was a light that ne'er can shine again 
 
 On life's dull stream ; 
 0! 't was a light that ne'er can shine again 
 
 On life's dull stream." 
 
 *'Nay," said the Domine, again abstracted, **the metaphor 
 is not just. *L if 6 's .dull stream/ *Lethe tacitus amnis/ 
 as Lucan hath it ; but the stream of life flows — ay, flows rapidly 
 — even in my veins. Doth not the heart throb and beat — yea, 
 strongly — peradventure too forcibly against my better judgment? 
 'Confiteor miserp molle cor esse mihi,' as Ovid saith. 
 Yet must it not prevail? Shall one girl be victorious over seventy 
 boys? Shall I, Domine Dobbs, desert my post? — Again suc- 
 cumb to — I will even depart , that I may be at my desk at matu- 
 tinal hours." 
 
 *'You don't mean to leave us, Sir?" said Mary, taking the 
 Domine's arm. 
 
 **Even so, fair maiden, for it waieth late, and I have my 
 duties to perform ," said the Domine , rising from his chair. 
 **Then you will promise to come again." 
 
 Peradventure I may." 
 *'If you do not promise me that you will,. I will not let you go 
 now." 
 
 ** Verily, maiden — " 
 
 Promise," interrupted Mary. 
 
 Truly, maiden." 
 * * Promise ," cried Mary. 
 
 In good sooth, maiden — " 
 
 Promise," reiterated Mary, pulling the Domine towards her 
 
 chair. 
 
 Nay, then, I do promise, since thou wilt have it so," replied 
 the Domine. 
 
 "And when will you come ? " 
 
 I will not tarry," replied the Domine : ** and now good night 
 to all." 
 
 The Domine shook hands with us, and Mary lighted him down 
 
225 
 
 stairs. I was much pleased with the resolution and sense of his 
 danger thus shown by my worthy preceptor , and hoped that he 
 would have avoided Mary in future , who evidently wished to make 
 a conquest of him for her own amusement and love of admiration ; 
 but still I felt that the promise exacted would be fulfdled , and I 
 was afraid that a second meeting, and that perhaps not before 
 witnesses, would prove mischievous. I made up my mind to 
 speak to Mary on the subject as soon as I had an opportunity, and 
 insist upon her not making a fool of the worthy old man. Mary 
 remained below a much longer time than was necessary, and when 
 she re-appeared and looked at me , as if for a smile of approval, 
 I turned ftom her with a contemptuous air. She sat down and 
 looked confused. Tom was also silent , and paid her no attention. 
 A quarter of an hour passed, when he proposed to his father that 
 they should be off, and the party broke up. Leaving Mary silent 
 and thoughtful, and old Stapleton finishing his pipe, I took my 
 candle and went to bed. 
 
 The next day the moon changed , the weather changed , and a 
 rapid thaw took place. *' It 's an ill wind that blows nobody good," 
 observed old Stapleton ; we watermen will have the river to our- 
 selves again , and the hucksters must carry their gingerbread nuts 
 to another market." It was, however, three or four days before 
 the river was clear of the ice, so as to permit the navigation to pro- 
 ceed; and during that time, I may as well observe, that there 
 was dissension between Mary and me. I showed her that I re- 
 sented her conduct, and at first she tried to pacify me ; but finding 
 that I held out longer than she expected, she turned round and 
 was affronted in return. Short words and no lessons were the 
 order of the day ; and, as each party appeared determined to hold 
 out, there was little prospect of a reconciliation. In this she was 
 the greatest sufferer, as I quitted the house after breakfast, and 
 did not return until dinner time. At first old Stapleton plied very . 
 regularly, and took all the fares ; but about a fortnight after we 
 had worked together, he used to leave me to look after employ- 
 ment, and remain at the public-house. The weather was now 
 fine , and after the severe frost it changed so rapidly, that most of 
 the trees were in leaf, and the horse-chestnuts in full blossom. 
 
 Jacob Faithful \ 5 
 
226 
 
 The wherry was in constant demand , and every evening I handed 
 from four to six shillings over to old Stapleton. I was delighted 
 with my life , and should have been perfectly happy if it had not 
 been for my quarrel with Mary still continuing, she as resolutely 
 refraining from making advances as I. How much may life be 
 embittered by dissension with those you live with, even where 
 there is no very warm attachment : the constant grating together 
 worries and annoys, and although you may despise the atoms, the 
 aggregate becomes insupportable. I had no pleasure in the house; 
 and the evenings , which formerly passed so agreeably, were now 
 a source of vexation , from being forced to sit in company, with 
 one with whom I was not on good terms. Old Stapleton was 
 seldom at home till late , and this made it still worse. I was com- 
 muning with myself one night, as I had my eyes fixed on my book, 
 whether I should not make the first advances , when Mary, who 
 had been quietly at work , broke the silence by asking me what I 
 was reading. I replied in a quiet , grave tone. 
 
 ** Jacob," said she in continuation, *'I think you have used 
 me very ill to humble me in this manner. It was your business to 
 make it up first." 
 
 I am not aware that I have been in the wrong replied I. 
 I do not say that you have ; but what matter does that make? 
 You ought to give way to a woman." 
 
 *'Why so?" 
 
 **Why so! don't the whole world do so? Do you not offer 
 every thing first to a woman? Is it not her right?" 
 Not when she is in the wrong , Mary." 
 
 '*Yes, when she is in the wrong, Jacob; there's no merit in 
 doing it when she 's in the right." 
 
 **I think otherwise; at all events, it depends on how much 
 she has been in the wrong, and I consider you have shown a bad 
 heart, Mary." 
 
 *'Abad heart! in what way, Jacob?" 
 
 **In realising the fable of the boys and the frogs with the poor 
 old Domine , forgetting that what may be sport to you is death to 
 him." 
 
227 
 
 *' You don't mean to say that he '11 die of love ," replied Mary, 
 laughing, 
 
 *'I should hope not; but you may contrive, and you have 
 tried , all in your power to make him very wretched." 
 
 **And, pray, how do you know that I do not like the old 
 gentleman, Jacob? You appear to think that a girl is to fall in 
 love with nobody but yourself. Why should I not love an old man 
 with so much learning? I have been told that old husbands are 
 much prouder of their wives than young ones , and pay them more 
 attention , and don't run after other women. How do you know 
 that I am not serious? " 
 
 ''Because I know your character, Mary, and am not to be 
 deceived. If you mean to defend yourself in that way, we had 
 better not talk any more." 
 
 "Lord, how savage you are ! Well, then, suppose I did pay 
 the old gentleman any attention. Did the young ones pay me any? 
 Did either you , or your precious friend , Mr. Tom , even speak 
 to me?" 
 
 '*No; we saw how you were employed, and we both hate 
 a jilt." 
 
 "01 you do. Very well. Sir; just as you please. I may 
 make both of your hearts ache for this , some day or another." 
 
 "Forewarned, forearmed, Mary; and I shall take care that 
 they are both forewarned as well as myself. As I perceive that you 
 are so decided , I shall say no more. Only for your own sake, 
 and your own happiness , I caution you. Recollect your mother, 
 Mary, and recollect your mother 's death." 
 
 Mary covered her face and burst into tears. She sobbed for a 
 few minutes, and then came to me. "You are right, Jacob; 
 ^ and I am a foolish — perhaps wicked — girl ; but forgive me, and 
 indeed I will try to behave better. But, as father says, it is 
 human nature in me, and it 's hard to conquer our natures, 
 Jacob." 
 
 "Will you promise me not to continue your advances to the 
 Domine, Mary?" 
 
 "I will not, if I can help it, Jacob. I may forget for the 
 
 15* 
 
228 
 
 moment, but I '11 do all I can. It 's not very easy to look grave 
 when one is merry, or sour when one is pleased." 
 
 ''But what can induce you, Mary, to practise upon an old man 
 like him? If it were young Tom, I could understand it. There 
 might be some credit , and your pride might be flattered by the 
 victory ; but an old man — " 
 
 *' Still, Jacob, old or young, it's much the same. I would 
 like to have them all at my feet , and that 's the truth. I can't help 
 it. And I thought it a great victory to bring there a wise old man, 
 who was so full of Latin and learning, and who ought to know 
 better. Tell me, Jacob, if old men allow themselves to be caught, 
 as well as young, where is the crime of catching them? Isn't there 
 as much vanity in an old man , in his supposing that I really could 
 love him, as there is in me , who am but a young foolish girl, in 
 trying to make him fond of me?" 
 
 **That may be; but still recollect that he is in earnest, and 
 you are only joking , which makes a great difference ; and recollect 
 further, that in trying at all , we very often lose all." 
 
 **That I would take my chance of, Jacob," replied Mary, 
 proudly throwing her curly ringlets back with her hand from her 
 white forehead; *'but what I now want, is to make friends with 
 you. Come , Jacob , you have my promise to do my best." 
 
 *' Yes , Mary, and I believe you , so there 's my hand." 
 
 **You don't know how miserable I have been, Jacob, since 
 we quarrelled ," said Mary, wiping the tears away, which again 
 commenced flowing; "and yet I don't know why, for I 'm sure I 
 have almost hated you this last week — that I have ; but the fact is, 
 I like quarrelling very well for the pleasure of making it up again ; 
 but not for the quarrel to last so long as this has done." 
 
 *'It has annoyed me too, Mary, for I like yoi^very much in 
 general." 
 
 '*Well, then, now it's all over; but, Jacob, are you sure 
 you are friends with me? " 
 **Yes, Mary." 
 
 Mary looked archly at me. **You know the old saw, and I 
 feel the truth of it." 
 
229 
 
 **What, * kiss and make friends?"* replied I; **with all my 
 heart," and I kissed her, without any resistance on her part. 
 **No, I didn't mean that, Jacob." 
 **What then?" 
 **0! 'twas another." 
 **Well, then, what was the other?" 
 
 ** Never mind, I forget it now," said she, laughing, and 
 rising from the chair. *'Now I must go to my work again , and 
 you must tell me what you 've been doing this last fortnight." 
 
 Mary and I entered into a long and amicable conversation, till 
 her father came home , when we retired to bed. *' I think ," said 
 old Stapleton , the next morning, "that I 've had work enough; 
 and I 've belonged to two benefit clubs for so long as to 'title me to 
 an allowance. I think, Jacob , I shall give up the wherry to you, 
 and you shall in future give me one third of your earnings, and 
 keep the rest to yourself. I don't see why you 're to work hard all 
 day for nothing." I remonstrated against this excess of liberality ; 
 but old Stapleton was positive , and the arrangement was made. 
 I afterwards discovered , what may probably occur to the reader, 
 that Captain Turnbull was at the bottom of all this. He had pen- 
 sioned old Stapleton , that I might become independent by my 
 own exertions before I had served my apprenticeship ; and after 
 breakfast, old Stapleton walked down with me to the beach , and 
 we launched the boat. Recollect, Jacob," said he, "one 
 third, and honour bright;" so saying, he adjourned to his old 
 quarters, the public-house, to smoke his pipe and think of human 
 natur. I do not recollect any day of my life on which I felt more 
 happy than on this : I was working for myself, and independent. 
 I jumped into my wherry, and without waiting for a fare, I pushed 
 off, and gaining the stream, cleaved through the water with de- 
 light as my reward ; but after a quarter of an hour I sobered down 
 with the recollection that although I might pull about for nothing, 
 for my own amusement, that as Stapleton was entitled to one 
 third , I had no right to neglect his interest ; and I shot my wherry 
 into the row, and stood with my hand and fore- finger raised 
 watching the eye of every one who came towards the hard. I was 
 fortunate that day, and when I returned, was proceeding to give 
 
230 
 
 Stapletonhis share, when he stopped iile. Jacob, it *s no use 
 dividing now, once a week will be better. I likes things to come 
 inalump; 'cause d 'ye see — it's — it's — human natur." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A good fare. — Eat yonr pudding and hold your tongue. — The Domine 
 crossed in love. — The crosser also crossed. — 1 find that "all the 
 world 's a stage," not excepting the stern sheets of my wherry. — 
 Cleopatra's harge apostrophised on the river Thames. 
 
 I CONSIDER that the present was the period from which I might 
 date my first launching into human life. I w^as now nearly eighteen 
 years old , strong , active , and well made , full of spirits , and 
 overjoyed at the independence which I had so much sighed for. 
 Since the period of my dismissal from Mr. Drummond's my cha- 
 racter had much altered. I had become grave and silent, brood- 
 ing over my wrongs, harbouring feelings of resentment against the 
 parties , and viewing the world in general through a medium by no 
 means favourable. I had become in some degree restored from 
 this unwholesome state of mind from having rendered an impor- 
 tant service to Captain Turnbull , for we love the world better as 
 we feel that we are more useful in it; but the independence now 
 given to me was the acme of my hopes and wishes. I felt so happy, 
 so buoyant in mind, that I could even think of the two clerks in 
 Mr. Drummond's employ without feelings of revenge. Let it, how- 
 ever, be remembered , that the world was all before me in antici- 
 pation only. 
 
 ''Boat, Sir?" 
 
 *'No , thanky , my lad. I want old Stapleton — is he here?" 
 *'No, Sir; but this is his boat." 
 *' Humph! can't he take me down?" 
 '*No, Sir; but I can, if you please." 
 ''Well, then, be quick." 
 
 A sedate looking gentleman, about forty-five years of age, 
 stepped into the boat, and in a few seconds I was in the stream, 
 shooting the bridge with the ebbing tide. 
 
 "What 's the matter with deaf Stapleton?" 
 
231 
 
 ** Nothing, Sir; but he is getting old , and has made the boat 
 over to roe." 
 
 Are you his son?" 
 '*No, Sir, his 'prentice." 
 ** Humph ! sorry deaf Stapleton's gone." 
 ** I can be as deaf as he, Sir, if you wish it." 
 ** Humph!" 
 
 The gentleman said no more at the time, and I pulled do\Mi th^ 
 river in silence ; but in a few minutes he began to move his hands 
 up and down, and his lips, as if he was in conversation. Gradually 
 his action increased , and words were uttered. At last he broke 
 out: — '*It is with this conviction , I may say, important convic- 
 tion, Mr. Speaker, that I now deliver my sentiments to the Com- 
 mons House of Parliament, trusting that uo honourable member 
 will decide until he has fully weighed the importance of the argu- 
 ments which I have submitted to his judgment." He then stopped, 
 as if aware that I was present, and looked at me ; but, prepared as 
 I was , there was nothing in my countenance which exhibited the 
 least sign of merriment; or, indeed, of having paid any attention 
 to what he had been saying, for I looked carelessly to the right and 
 left at the banks of the river. He again entered into conversation. 
 Have you been long on the river?" 
 
 **Born on it. Sir." 
 
 **How do you like the profession of a waterman?" 
 **Very well. Sir; the great point is to h&ve regular custo- 
 mers." 
 
 *' And how do you gain them? " 
 By holding my tongue ; keeping their counsel and my own." 
 
 ** Very good answer, my boy. People who have much to do 
 cannot afford to lose even their time on the water. Just now I 
 was preparing and thinking over my speech in the House of Com- 
 mons." 
 
 *' So I supposed. Sir, and I think the river is a very good place 
 for it, as no one can overhear you except the person whose services 
 you have hired — and you need not mind him." 
 
 ** Very true , my lad ; but that 's why I liked deaf Stapleton — 
 he could not hear a word." 
 
232 
 
 **But, Sir, if you 've no objection , I like to hear it very much ; 
 and you may be sure that I should never say any thing about it , if 
 you will trust me/* 
 
 Do you, my lad? well, then, I '11 just try it over again. You 
 shall be the Speaker — mind you hold your tongue, and don't inter- 
 rupt me." 
 
 The gentleman then began : **Mr. Speaker, I should not have 
 ventured to address the House at this late hour, did I not consider 
 that the importance of the question now before it is — so impor- 
 tant — no , that wo'n't do — did I not consider that the question 
 now before it is of that , I may say , paramount importance , as to 
 call forth the best energies of every man who is a well-wisher to his 
 country. With this conviction , Mr. Speaker, humble individual 
 as I am , I feel it my duty, I may say, my bounden duty, to deliver 
 my sentiments upon the subject. The papers which I now hold in 
 my hand, Mr. Speaker, and to which I shall soon have to call the 
 attention of the House , will, I trust, fully establish — '* 
 
 **I say, waterman, be you taking that chap to Bedlam?" cried 
 a shrill female voice close to us. The speech was stopped; we 
 looked up , and perceived a wherry with two females passing close 
 to us. A shout of laughter followed the observation , and my fare 
 looked very much confused and annoyed. 
 
 I had often read the papers itf the public-house , and remem- 
 bering what was usual in the House in case of interruption , called 
 out ** Order, order!" This made the gentleman laugh, and as 
 the other wherry was now far off, he recommenced his oration, with 
 which I shall not trouble my reader. It was a very fair speech , I 
 have no doubt , but I forget what it was about. 
 
 I landed him at Westminster Bridge , and received treble my 
 fare. ** Recollect," said he, on paying me, '*that I shall look 
 out for you when I come again, which I do every Monday morning, 
 and sometimes oftener. What 's your name ? " 
 Jacob, Sir." 
 
 ** Very well; good morning, my lad." 
 
 This gentleman became a very regular and excellent customer, 
 and we used to have a great deal of conversation , independent of 
 debating, in the wherry; and I must acknowledge, that I received 
 
233 
 
 from him not only plenty of money, but a great deal of valuable in- 
 formation. 
 
 A few days after this I had an opportunity of ascertaining how 
 far Mary would keep her promise. I was plying at the river side as 
 usual, ,when old Stapleton came up to me, with his pipe in his 
 mquth, and said, Jacob, there be that old gentleman up at our 
 house with Mary. Now I sees a great deal , but I says nothing. 
 Mary will be her mother over again , that 's sartain. Suppose you 
 go and see your old teacher, and leave me to look a'ter a customer. 
 I begin to feel as if handling the sculls a little would be of sarvice 
 to me. We all think idleness be a very pleasant thing when we 're 
 obliged to work , but when we are idle , then we feel that a little 
 work be just as agreeable — that 's human natur." 
 
 I thought that Mary was very likely to forget all her good leso- 
 lutions, from her ardent love of admiration, and I was determined 
 to go and break up the conference. I therefore left the boat to 
 Stapleton , and hastened to the house. I did not much like to play 
 the part of an eavesdropper, and was quite -undecided how I 
 should act; whether to go in at once or not, when, as I passed 
 under the window, which was open , I heard very plainly the con- 
 versation which was going on. I stopped in the street, and li- 
 stened to the Domine in continuation. **But, fair maiden, 
 omnia vincit amor — here am I, Domine Dobbs, who have 
 long passed the grand climacteric, and can already muster three 
 score years — who have authority over seventy boys — being Ma- 
 gister Princeps, et Dux of Brentford Grammar School — who havo 
 alTectioned only the sciences, and communed only with the classics 
 — who have ever turned a deaf ear to the allurements of thy sex, 
 and even hardened my heart to thy fascination — here am I, even T, 
 Domine Dobbs, suing at the feet of a maiden who hath barely ri- 
 pened into womanhood , who knoweth not to read or write , and 
 whose father earns his bread by manual labour. I feel it all — I 
 feel that I am too old — that thou art too young — that I am de- 
 parting from the ways of wisdom, and am regardless of my worldly 
 prospects. Still, omnia vincit amor, and I bow to the all- 
 powerful god, doing him homage through thee, Mary. Vainly 
 have I resisted — vainly have I, as I have lain in bed, tried to drive 
 
234 
 
 thee from my thoughts, and tear thine image from my heart. Have 
 I not felt thy presence every where ? Do not I astonish my worthy 
 coadjutor, Mistress Bately, the matron, by calling her by the 
 name of Mary, when I had always before addressed her by her 
 baptismal name of Deborah? Nay, have not the boys in the classes 
 discovered my weakness , and do not they shout out Mary in 
 their hours of play? Mare periculosum et turbidum, hast 
 Ihou been to me. I sleep not — I eat not , — and every sign of 
 love which hath been adduced by Ovidius Naso , whom I have dili- 
 gently collated, do I find in mine own person. Speak, then, 
 maiden. I have given vent to my feelings , do thou the same, that 
 I may return, and leave not my flock without their shepherd. 
 Speak, maiden." 
 
 *'Iwill, Sir, if you will get up replied Mary, who paused, 
 and then continued. I think , Sir, that I am young and foolish, 
 and you are old and — and — " 
 
 *' Foolish, thou wouldest say." 
 
 *'I had rather .you said it. Sir, than I; it is not for me to use 
 such an expression towards one so learned as you are. I think. 
 Sir, that I am too young to marry, and that perhaps you are — too 
 old. I think , Sir , that you are too clever — and that I am very 
 ignorant; that it would not suit you in your situation to marry; 
 and that it would not suit me to marry you — equally obliged to 
 you all the same." 
 
 Perhaps thou hast in thy reply proved the wiser of the two," 
 answered the Domine ; "but why, maiden , didst thou raise those 
 feelings , those hopes in my breast , only to cause me pain , and 
 make me drink deep of the cup of disappointment? Why didst 
 thou appear to cling to me in fondness , if thou felt not a yearning 
 towards me?" 
 
 **But are there not other sorts of love besides the one you 
 would require, Sir? May I not love you because you are so clever, 
 and so learned in Latin? may I not love you as I do my father?" 
 
 **True, true, child; it is all my own folly, and I must retrace 
 my steps in sorrow. I have been deceived — but I have been de- 
 ceived only by myself. My wishes have clouded my understanding, 
 and have obscured my reason ; have made me forgetful of my ad- 
 
235 
 
 vanced years, and of the little favour I was likely to find in the eyes 
 of a young maiden. I have fallen into a pit through blindness, and 
 I must extricate myself, sore as will be the task. Bless thee, 
 maiden, bless thee ! May another be happy in thy love, and never 
 feel the barb of disappointment. I will pray for thee , Mary — 
 that Heaven may bless thee." And the Domine turned away 
 
 and wept. , 
 
 Mary appeared to be moved by the good old man s affliction, 
 and her heart probably smote her for her coquettish behaviour. 
 She attempted to console the Domine, and appeared to be more 
 than half crying herself. **Nay, Sir, do not take on so, you make 
 me feel very uncomfortable. I have been wrong - I feel I have — 
 though you have not blamed me. I am a very foolish girl." 
 
 Bless, thee, child — bless thee ! " replied the Domine , in a 
 
 subdued voice. , . , . ^ * u * 
 
 **Indeed, Sir, I don't deserve it — I feel I do not; but pray 
 do not grieve. Sir, things will go cross in love. Now, Sir, I'll 
 tell you a secret to prove it to you. I love Jacob — love him very 
 much, and he does not care for me — lam sure he does not; so 
 you see , Sir , you're not the only one — who is — very unhappy ;" 
 and Mary commenced sobbing with the Domine. 
 
 "Poor thing!" said the Domine; ''and thou lovest Jacob? 
 truly is he worthy of thy love. And, at thy early age, thou 
 knowest what it is to have thy love unrequited. Truly is this a vale 
 of tears — yet let us be thankful. Guard well thy heart, child, 
 for Jacob may not be for thee ; nay I feel that he will not be. 
 
 '*Andwhyso, Sir?" replied Mary, despondingly. 
 Because, maiden — but nay, I must not tell thee ; only take 
 my warning , which is mea.nt in kindness and in love. Fare thee 
 well, Mary — fare thee well! I come not here again." 
 
 '''Goodbye, Sir, and pray forgive me ; this will be a warning 
 tome." 
 
 <'Yerily, maiden, it will be a warning to us both. God 
 bless thee ! " 
 
 I discovered by the sound, that Mary had vouchsafed to the 
 Domine a kiss , and heard soon afterwards his steps , as he de- 
 scended the stairs. Not wishing to meet him, I turned round the 
 
236 
 
 corner, and went down to the river, thinking over what had passed. 
 I felt pleased with Mary, but I was not in love with her. 
 
 The spring was now far advanced , and the weather was de- 
 lightful. The river was beautiful , and parties of pleasure were 
 constantly to be seen floating up and down with the tide. The 
 Westminster boys, the funny club, and other amateurs in their 
 fancy dresses, enlivened the scene ; while the races for prize wher- 
 ries , which occasionally took place , rendered the water one mass 
 of life and motion. How I longed for my apprenticeship to be 
 over, that I might try for a prize ! One of my best customers was 
 a young man , who was an actor at one of the theatres , and who, 
 like the M. P., used to rehearse the whole time he was in the boat; 
 but he was a lively, noisy personage, full of humour, and perfectly 
 indifferent as to appearances. He had a quiz and a quirk for every 
 body that passed in another boat , and would stand up and rant at 
 them until they considered him insane. We were on very intimate 
 terms , and I never was more pleased than when he made his ap- 
 pearance, as it was invariably the signal for mirth. The first time 
 I certainly considered him to be a lunatic, for playhouse phraseo- 
 logy was quite new to me. *'Boat, Sir," cried I to him, as he 
 came to the hard. 
 
 '^My affairs do even drag me homeward. Go on, I'll follow 
 rhee,'* replied he, leaping into the boat. ** Our fortune lies upon 
 t}.is jump." 
 
 I shoved off the wherry : "Down Sir?" 
 
 **Down,*' replied he, pointing downwards with his finger, as 
 if pushing at something . 
 
 "Down, down to li — 11, and say I sent you there." 
 
 "Thanky, Sir, I'd rather not, if it 's all the same to you." 
 
 '* Our tongue is rough, coz — and my condition is not smooth." 
 We shot the bridge, and went rapidly down with the tide, when he 
 again commenced : — 
 
 "Thus with imagln'd wing our soft scene flies, 
 In motion of no less celerity 
 Than that of thought." 
 
 Then his attention was drawn by a collier's boat, pulled by two 
 men as black as chimney-sweeps , with three women in the stern- 
 
237 
 
 sheets. They made for the centre of the river, to get into the 
 strength of the tide, and were soon abreast and close to the wherry, 
 pulling with us down the stream. 
 
 There's a dandy young man," said one of the women , with 
 an old straw bonnet and very dirty ribbons, laughing, and pointing 
 to my man. 
 
 "Plead you to me, fair dame? 1 know you notj 
 At Ephesus 1 am but two hours old, 
 As strange unto your town as to your talk.** 
 
 ** Well, he be a reg'lar rum cove , I've a notion said another 
 of the women, when she witnessed the theatrical airs of the speaker, 
 who immediately recommenced — 
 
 "The Large she sat in, like a hurnisli'd throne, 
 Burn'd on the water — the poop was beaten goldj 
 Purple the sails, and so perfumed, that 
 Tlie winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, 
 Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made 
 The water, which they beat, to follow faster. 
 As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, 
 It beggar'd all description." 
 
 *'Come, I'll be blowed but we've had enough of that, so just 
 shut your pan said one of the women , angrily. 
 
 "Her gentlewomen, like the Naiades, 
 So many mermaids tend her." 
 
 **Mind what you're arter, or your mouth will tend to yovu 
 mischief, young fellow." 
 
 "From the barge 
 A strange, invisible perfume hits the sense 
 Of the adjacent wharfs." 
 
 **Jem, just run him alongside, and break his head with 
 your oar." 
 
 I thinks as how I will , if he don't mend his manners." 
 
 "I saw her once 
 Hop forty paces through the public streets." 
 
 "You lie, you liver-faced rascal, I never walked the streets 
 in my life ; I 'm a lawful married woman. Jem , do you call your- 
 self a man, and stand this here?" 
 
 **Wen, now, Sal, but he is a nice young man. Now an't 
 be? " observed one of the other women. 
 
238 
 
 •'Away, 
 
 Away, yon trifler. Love! I know thee not, 
 I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world 
 To play with mammets, and to tilt with lips*. 
 We must have hloody noses and cracked crowns.*' 
 
 **I 've a notion you will, too, my hearty," interrupted one 
 of the colliers. That 'ere long tongue of yours will bring you into 
 disgrace. Bill, give her a jerk towards the wherry, and we 11 
 duck him." 
 
 "My friend," said the actor, addressing me, 
 
 "Let not his unwiiolesome corpse come hetween the wind and my 
 
 nohility. 
 
 Let us exeunt, 0. P." 
 
 Although I could not understand his phrases , I knew very well 
 what he meant, and pulling smartly , I shoved towards the shore, 
 and ahead. Perceiving this, the men in the boat, at the intima- 
 tion of the women, who stood up, waving their bonnets, gave 
 chase to us , and my companion appeared not a little alarmed. 
 However, by great exertion on my part, we gained considerably, 
 and they abandoned the pursuit. 
 
 *'Now, by two-headed Janus," said my companion, as he 
 looked back upon the colliers , 
 
 •'Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time, 
 Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, 
 And laugh like parrots at a hagpiper. 
 And others of such a vinegar aspect, 
 That they'll not show their teeth hy way of smile, 
 Though Nestor swear the jest he laughahle. 
 
 And now," continued he, addressing me, ** what 's your name, 
 Sir? Of what condition are you — and of what place , I pray?" 
 
 Amused with what had passed, I replied, ''That my name 
 was Jacob — that I was a waterman , and born on the river." 
 
 "I find thee apt; but tell me, art thou perfect that our ship 
 hath touched upon the deserts of Bohemia?" 
 *'Do you land at Westminster, Sir?" 
 "No ; at Blackfriars — there attend my coming. 
 
 "Base is the slave who pays; nevertheless, what is your fare, 
 my lad? 
 
 "What money *s in my purse? Seven groats and two pence. 
 
239 
 
 "By Jove I am not covetous of gold, 
 Nor care 1 who doth feed upon my cost. 
 
 But, 
 
 »'I can get no remedy for this consumption of the purse. 
 
 Here, my lad, is that enough?" 
 *^Yes, Sir, I thank you." 
 
 *'Remember poor Jack, Sir,'* said the usual attendant at the 
 landing place , catching his arm as he careened the wherry on get- 
 ting out. 
 
 •'If he fall in, good night — or sink or swim. 
 
 **Jack, there is a penny for you. Jacob, farewell — we meet 
 again ; " and away he went , taking three of the stone steps at each 
 spring. This gentleman's name was , as I afterwards found out, 
 Tinfoil , an actor of second rate merit on the London boards. The 
 Haymarkct Theatre was where he principally performed, and as 
 we became better acquainted , he offered to procure me orders to 
 see the play , when I should wish to go there. 
 
 CHAPTER Xn. 
 
 The pic-nic party. — Sufferings by oil, ice, fire, and water. — Upon 
 the whole, the "divarting vagabonds," as the Thespian heroes and 
 heroines are classically termed, are very happy, excepting Mr. 
 Winterbottom, whose feelings are , by sitting down, down to zero. 
 
 One morning he came down to the hard, and, as usual, I 
 expected that he would go down the river. I ran to my boat, and 
 hauled in close. 
 
 No Jacob , no ; this day you will not carry Caesar and his for- 
 tunes , but I have an order for you." 
 
 '* Thank you, Sir; what is the play?" 
 
 **The play — pooh! no play; but I hope it will prove a farce, 
 nevertheless, before it 's over. We are to have a pic-nic parly 
 upon one of those little islands up the river by Kew. All sock and 
 buskin , all theatricals : if the wherries upset , the Haymarket may 
 shut up, for it will be *exeunt omnes' with all its best per- 
 formers. Look you , Jacob , we shall want three wherries , and 
 I leave you to pick out the other two — oars in each , of course. 
 
240 
 
 You must be at Whitehall steps exactly at nine o'clock , and 1 dare 
 say the ladies won't make you wait more than an hour or two, 
 which , for them , is tolerably punctual." 
 
 Mr. Tinfoil then entered into the arrangement for remunera- 
 tion , and walked away ; and I was conning over in my mind whom 
 I should select from my brother watermen , and whether I should 
 ask old Stapleton to take the other oar in my boat , when I heard a 
 voice never to be mistaken by me : — 
 
 * "Life 's like a summer day, 
 
 Warmed by a sunny ray. 
 
 ** Lower away yet , Tom. That'll do , my trump. 
 
 "Sometimes a dreary cloud, 
 Chill blast, or tempest loud." 
 
 **Look out for Jacob, Tom," cried the old man, as the head 
 of the lighter, with her mast lowered down , made its appearance 
 through the arch of Putney Bridge , with bright blue streaks on 
 her sides. 
 
 **IIere he is, father," replied Tom, who was standing for- 
 ward by the windlass , with the fall in his hand. 
 
 I had shoved off, on hearing old Tom's voice, and was alongside 
 almost as soon as the lighter had passed under the bridge, and dis- 
 covered old Tom at the helm. I sprung on the deck, with the 
 chain-painter of the wherry in my hand, made it fast, and went 
 aft to old Tom , who seized my hand. 
 
 **This is as it should be, my boy, both on the look out for 
 each other. The heart warms when we know the feeling is on both 
 sides. You 're seldom out of our thoughts, boy, and always in 
 our hearts. Now jump forward, for Tom's fretting lopeetyou, 
 I see, and you may just as well help him to sway up the mast when 
 you are there." 
 
 I went forward , shook hands with Tom , and then clapped on 
 the fall , and assisted him to hoist the mast. We then went aft to 
 his father, and communicated every thing of interest which had 
 passed since our last meeting at old Stapleton's. 
 
 **And how's Mary?" inquired Tom; *'she'sa very fine lass, 
 and I 've thought of her more than once ; but I saw that all you said 
 about her was true. How she did flam that poor old Domine I " 
 
241 
 
 *'I have had a few words with her about it, and she has pro-- 
 mised to be wiser/* replied I; "but as her father says , * in her, 
 it 's human natur."* 
 
 She 's a fine craft," observed old Tom, and they always be 
 a little ticklish. But, Jacob, you 've had some inquiries made 
 after you , and by the women , too." 
 
 '^Indeed!" replied I. 
 
 ''Yes; and I have had the honour of being sent for into the 
 parlour. Do you guess now ? " 
 
 *'Yes," said I, a gloom coming over my countenance, **I 
 presume it is Mrs. Drummond and Sarah whom you refer to?" 
 
 ''Exactly." 
 
 Tom then informed me that Mrs. Drummond had sent for him, 
 and asked a great many questions about me , and desired him to 
 say that they were very glad to hear that I was well and com- 
 fortable, and hoped that I would call and see her and Sarah when 
 I came that way. Drummond then left the room , and Tom 
 
 was alone with Sarah , who desired him to say, that her father had 
 found out that I had not been wrong ; that he had dismissed both 
 the clerks ; and that he was very sorry he had been so deceived — 
 •*and then ," said Tom , "Miss Sarah told me to say from herself, 
 that she had been very unhappy since you had left them , but that 
 she hoped that you would forgive and forget some day or another, 
 and come back to them ; and that I was to give you her love , and 
 call next time we went up the river for something that she wanted 
 to send to you. So you perceive , Jacob , that you are not forgot- 
 ten , and justice has been done to you." 
 
 "Yes," replied I, "but it has been done too late; so let us 
 say no more about it. I am quite happy as I am." 
 
 I then told them of the pic-nic party of the next day, upon 
 which Tom volunteered to take the other oar in my boat, as he 
 would not be wanted while the barge was at the wharf. Old Tom 
 gave his consent , and it was agreed he should meet me next morn- 
 ing at daylight. 
 
 " I 've a notion there'll be some fun , Jacob ," said he , "from 
 what you say." 
 
 Jacob Faithful. 
 
242 
 
 **I think so, too; but you \e towed me two miles, and I 
 must be off again, or I shall lose my dinner; so good bye." I 
 selected two other wherries in the course of the afternoon, and then 
 returned home. 
 
 It was a lovely morning when Tom and I washed out the boat, 
 and having dressed ourselves in our neatest clothes , "we shoved off 
 in company with the two other wherries , and dropped leisurely 
 down the river with the last of the ebb. When we pulled in to the 
 stairs at Whitehall , we found two men waiting for us with three 
 or four hampers , some baskets, an iron saucepan, a frying-pan, 
 and a large tin pail with a cover, full of rough ice to cool the 
 wines. We were directed to put all these articles into one boat, 
 the others to be reserved for the company. 
 
 "Jacob," said Tom, ''don't let us be kitchen, I'm togged 
 out for the parlour." 
 
 This point had just been arranged , and the articles put into 
 the wherry, when the party made their appearance, Mr. Tinfoil 
 acting as master of the ceremonies. 
 
 '*Fair Titania ," said he , to the lady who appeared to demand, 
 and, therefore, received the most attention, * 'allow me to hand you 
 to your throne." 
 
 "Many thanks, good Puck," replied the lady, "we are well 
 placed; but dear me, we hav' n't brought, or we have lost, our 
 vinaigrette; we positively cannot go without it. What can our 
 women have been about?" 
 
 "Pease-blossom and Mustard-seed are much to blame," re- 
 plied Tinfoil , "but shall I run back for it?" 
 
 "Yes," replied the lady , " and be here again , e'er the levia- 
 than can swim a league." 
 
 "I '11 put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes,'* replied 
 the gentleman , stepping out of the boat. 
 
 " Won't you be a little out of breath before you come back. 
 Sir?" said Tom, joining the conversation. 
 
 This remark , far from giving offence, was followed by a general 
 laugh. Before Mr. Tinfoil was out of sight , the lost vinaigrette 
 was dropped out of the lady's handkerchief; he was , therefore, 
 recalled; and the whole of the party being arranged in the two 
 
243 
 
 boats , we shoved off ; the third boat , in which the provender had 
 been stowed, followed us, and was occupied by the two attendants, 
 a call-boy and scene-shifter, who were addressed by Tinfoil as 
 Caliban and Stephano. 
 
 *'Is all our company here?" said a pert looking, little pug- 
 nosed man , who had taken upon himself the part of Quince , th« 
 Carpenter, in the Midsummer Night's Dream. **You, Nick 
 Bottom," continued he, addressing another, **are set down for 
 Pyramus." 
 
 The party addressed did not, however, appear to enter into 
 the humour. He was a heavy made, rather corpulent, white- 
 faced, personage, dressed in white jean trowsers, white waistcoat, 
 brown coat, and white hat. Whether any thing had put him out 
 of humour, I know not, but it is evident that he was the butt of 
 the ladies and of most of the party. 
 
 **I '11 just thank you," replied this personage, whose real 
 name was Winterbottom , *'to be quiet, Mr. Western, for I 
 sha'n't stand any of your nonsense." 
 
 '*0 Mr. Winterbottom, surely you are not about to sow the 
 seeds of discord so early. Look at the scene before you — hear 
 how the birds are singing, how merrily the sun shines, and how 
 beautifully the water sparkles! Who can be cross on such a 
 morning as this? " 
 
 *'No, miss," replied Mr. Winterbottom, *'not at all — not 
 at all — only my name 's Winterbottom, and not Bottom. I don't 
 wear an ass's head to please any body — that 's all. I won't be 
 Bottom — that 's flat." 
 
 That depends upon circumstances , Sir ," observed Tom. 
 What business have you to shove your oar in, Mr. Water- 
 man?" 
 
 **I was hired for the purpose replied Tom, dipping his oar 
 in the water,, and giving a hearty stroke. 
 
 ** Stick to your own element then — shove your oar into the 
 water , but not into our discourse." 
 
 **Well, Sir, I won't say another word, if you don't like it." 
 
 *'But you may to me," said TiXania,. laughing, *' whenever 
 you please 
 
244 
 
 And to me too said Tinfoil , who was amused with Tom's 
 replies. 
 
 Mr. Winterbottom became very wroth, and demanded to be 
 put on shore directly, but the Fairy Queen ordered us to obey him 
 at our peril , and Mr. Winterbottom was carried up the river very 
 much against his inclination. 
 
 **Our friend is not himself," said Mr. Tinfoil, producing a 
 key bugle, *'but 
 
 "Music hath charms to soothe the savage hreast, 
 To soften rocks, and rend the knotted oak; 
 
 and therefore will we try the effect of it upon his senses." Mr. 
 Tinfoil then played the air in Midas , 
 
 "Pray Goody, please to moderate," &c. 
 
 during which Mr. Winterbottom looked more sulky than ever. As 
 soon as the air was finished , another of the party responded with 
 his flute , from the other boat — while Mr. Quince played what he 
 called base, by snapping his fingers. The sounds of the instru- 
 ments floated along the flowing and smooth water, reaching the 
 ears and attracting the attention of many , who , for a time , rested 
 from their labour, or hung listlessly over the gunnels of the vessels, 
 watching the boats , and listening to the harmony. All was mirth 
 and gaiety — the wherries kept close to each other, and between 
 the airs the parties kept up a lively and witty conversation, oc- 
 casionally venting their admiration upon the verdure of the sloping 
 lawns and feathering trees , with which the banks of the noble river 
 is so beautifully adorned ; even Mr. Winterbottom had partially re- 
 covered his serenity, when he was again irritated by a remark of 
 Quince who addressed him, 
 
 ** You can play no part but Pyramus ; for Pyramus is a sweet- 
 faced man — a proper man as one shall see on a summer's day ; a 
 • most lovely gentleman-like man ; therefore you must needs play 
 Pyramus.'* 
 
 Take care I don't play the devil with your physiognomy, Mr. 
 Western," retorted Winterbottom. 
 
 Here Caliban , in the third boat , began playing the fiddle and 
 singing to it, 
 
 "Gaffer, Gaffer's son, and his little jackass* 
 Were trotting along the roadi" 
 
245 
 
 the chorus of which ditty was *Ec-aw, Ec-aw!' like the braying 
 of a jackass. 
 
 "Bless thee, Bottom, bless thee thou art translated cried 
 Quince, looking at Winterbottom. 
 
 "Very well — very well , Mr. Western. I don't want to upset 
 the wherry, and therefore you 're safe at present, but the reckoning 
 will come — so I give you warning." 
 
 " Slaves of my lamp , do my bidding, I will have no quarrel- 
 ling here. You, Quince, shut your mouth; you, Winterbottom, 
 draw in your lips, and I, your queen, will charm you with a 
 song said Titania , waving her little hand. The fiddler ceased 
 playing, and the voice of the fair actress rivetted all our attention. 
 
 "Wilt thou Avaken, LriJe of May, 
 AVIiile flowers are fresh, and sweet bells chime, 
 Listen and learn from my roundelay, 
 How all life's pilot boats sailed one day 
 A match with Time! 
 
 "Love sat on a lotus-leaf aloft, 
 And saw old Time in his loaded boat, 
 Slowly he crossed Life's narrow tide, 
 While Love sat clapping his wings, and cried, 
 * Who w ill pass Time ? ' 
 
 "Patience came first, but soon was gone, 
 With helm and sail to help Time on; 
 Care and Grief could not lend an oar. 
 And Prudence said, (while he staid on shore,) 
 
 'I wait for Time.' 
 "Hope filled with flowers her cork-tree bark. 
 And lighted its helm with a glow-worm's spark; 
 Then Love, when he saw his bark fly past. 
 Said, * Lingering Time will soon he passed,* 
 
 *Hope outspeeds Time.' 
 "Wit went nearest Old Time to pass. 
 With his diamond oar and hoat of glass, 
 A feathery dart from his store he drew. 
 And shouted, while far and swift it flew, 
 
 '0 Mirth kills Time.' 
 •*But Time sent the feathery arrow back, 
 Hope's boat of Araai-anthus miss'd its track: 
 Then Love bade its buttertly-pilots move, 
 And laughing, said, 'They shall see how Love 
 
 Can conquer Time.'" 
 
246 
 
 I need hardly say that the song was rapturously applauded, 
 and most deservedly so. Several others were demanded from the 
 ladies and gentlemen of the party, and given without hesitation; 
 but I cannot now recall them to my memory. The bugle and flute 
 played between whiles , and all was laughter and merriment. 
 
 *' There 's a sweet place," said Tinfoil, pointing to a villa on the 
 Thames. **Now, with the fair Titania and ten thousand a year, 
 one could there live happy.'* 
 
 **I 'm afraid the fair Titania must go to market without the 
 latter incumbrance," replied the lady ; " the gentleman must find 
 the ten thousand a-year , and I must bring as my dowry — " 
 
 **Ten thousand charms interrupted Tinfoil, — that 's most 
 true , and pity 't is 't is true. Did your fairyship ever hear my epi- 
 gram on the subject? 
 
 "Let the lads of the East love the maids ofCash-meer, 
 Nor affection with interests clash, 
 Far other idolatry pleases us here, 
 AVe adore but the maids of M e r e Cash." 
 
 *' Excellent, good Puck! Have you any more?" 
 **Not of my own, but you have heard what Winterbottom 
 wrote under the bust of Shakspeare last Jubilee ? " 
 **I knew not that Apollo had ever visited him." 
 ** You shall hear: 
 
 *'In this here place the bones of Shakspeare lie, 
 But that ere form of his shall never die ; 
 A speedy end and soon, this world may have, 
 But Shakspeare's name shall bloom beyond the grave." 
 
 **I '11 trouble you, Mr. Tinfoil, not to be so very witty at my 
 expense," growled out Winterbottom. *'I never wrote a line of 
 poetry in my life." 
 
 *'No one said you did, Winterbottom; but you won 't deny 
 that you wrote those lines." 
 
 Mr. Winterbottom disdained a reply. Gaily did we pass the 
 variegated banks of the river, swept up with a strong flood tide, 
 and at last arrived at a little island agreed upon as the site of the 
 pic-nic. The company disembarked , and were busy looking for a 
 convenient spot for their entertainment. Quince making a rapid 
 escape from Winterbottom, the latter remaining on the bank^ 
 
247 
 
 ** Jenkins said he to the man christened Caliban , you did not 
 forget the salad?" 
 
 ''No, Sir, I brought it myself. It 's on the top of the little 
 hamper/' 
 
 Mr. Winterbottom , who it appears was extremely partial to 
 salad , was satisfied with the reply, and walked slowly away. 
 
 Well," said Tom to me, wiping the perspiration from his brow 
 with his handkerchief, ** I wouldn 't have missed this for any thing. 
 I only%ish father had been here. I hope that young lady will sing 
 again before we part." 
 
 '*I think it very likely, and that the fun is only begun re- 
 plied I. *'But come, let 's lend a hand to get the prog out of the 
 boat." 
 
 *'Pat! Pat! and here 's a marvellous convenient place for our 
 rehearsal. This green plot shall be our stage ," cried Quince , ad- 
 dressing the others of the party. 
 
 The locality was approved of, and now all were busy in prepa- 
 ration. The hampers were unpacked, and cold meats, poultry, 
 pies of various kinds, pastry, &c., appeared in abundance. 
 
 ''This is no manager's feast," said Tinfoil; " the fowls are not 
 made of wood , nor is small beer substituted for wine. Don Juan's 
 banquet to the Commendador is a farce to it." 
 
 "All the manager's stage banquets are farces, and very sorry 
 jokes into the bargain ," replied another. 
 
 "I wish old Morris had to eat his own suppers." 
 
 "He must get a uqw set of teeth, or they'll prove a deal too 
 tough." 
 
 "Hiss! turn him out! he 's made a pun." 
 
 The hampers were now emptied; some laid the cloth upon 
 the grass, and arranged the plates, and knives and forks. The 
 ladies were as busy as the gentlemen — some Mere wiping the 
 glasses, others putting salt into the salt-cellars. Titania was pre- 
 paring the salad. Mr. Winterbottom , who was doing nothing, 
 accosted her ; "May I beg as a favour that you do not cut the salad 
 too small? it loses much of its crispness." 
 
 "Why, what a Nebuchadnezzar you are! However, Sir, you 
 shall be obeyed." 
 
248 
 
 **Who can fry fish?" cried Tinfoil. "Here are two pairs of 
 soles and some eels. Where 's Caliban? " 
 
 '* Here I am, Sir," replied the man , on his knees, blowing up a 
 fire which he had kindled. "I have got the soup to mind." 
 Where 's Stephano?" 
 
 *' Cooling the wine, Sir." 
 Who, then, can fry fish, I ask?" 
 
 "lean, Sir," replied Tom ; *' but not without butter." 
 
 ** Butter shalt thou have , thou disturber of the element. Have 
 >ve notHiren here?" 
 
 "I wasn't hired as a cook, at all events," replied Tom; '*but 
 I'm rather a dab at it." 
 
 ' ' Then shalt thou have the place ," replied the actor. 
 
 **With all my heart and soul,'* cried Tom, taking out his 
 knife, and commencing the necessary operation of skinning 
 the fish. 
 
 In half an hour all was ready: the fairTitania did me the ho- 
 nour to seat herself upon my jacket , to ward off any damp from the 
 ground. The other ladies had also taken their respective seats , as 
 allotted by the mistress of the revels ; the tables were covered by 
 many of the good things of this life ; the soup was ready in a tureen 
 at one end, and Tom had just placed the fish on the table, while 
 Mr. Quince and Winterbottom, by the commands of Titania, were 
 despatched for the wine and other varieties of potations. When 
 they returned , eyeing one another askance , Winterbottom looking 
 daggers at his opponent, and Quince not quite easy even under the 
 protection of Titania, Tom had just removed the frying-pan from 
 the fire, with its residuary grease still babbling. Quince having 
 deposited his load, was about to sit down , when a freak came into 
 Tom's head, which, however, he dared not put in execution him- 
 self; but ** a nod is as good as a wink to a blind horse," says the 
 proverb. Winterbottom stood before Tom, and Quince with his 
 back to them. Tom looked at Winterbottom , pointing slily to the 
 frying-pan , and then to the hinder parts of Quince. Winterbottom 
 snatched the hint and the frying-pan at the same moment. Quince 
 squatted himself down with a surge , as they say at sea , quoting at 
 the time — ** Marry , our play is the most lamentaMe comedy ," — 
 
249 
 
 but putting his hands behind him to soften his fall, they were re- 
 ceived into the hot frying-pan , inserted behind him by Winter- 
 bottom. 
 
 Oh Lord! oh! oh!" shrieked Mr. Quince, springing up like 
 lightning, bounding in the air with the pain , his hands behind still 
 adhering to the frying-pan. 
 
 At the first scream of Mr. Quince , the whole party had been 
 terrified; the idea was that a snake had bitten him, and the 
 greatest alarm prevailed ; but when they perceived the cause of the 
 disaster, even his expressions of pain could not prevent their 
 mirth. It was too ludicrous. Still the gentlemen and ladies con- 
 doled with him , but Mr. Quince was not to be reasoned with. He 
 walked away to the river side, Mr. Winterbottom slily enjoying his 
 revenge , for no one but Tom had an idea that it was any thing but 
 an'iccident. Mr. Quince's party of pleasure was spoiled, but the 
 others did not think it necessary that theirs should be also. 
 A really very sorry for poor Western," a half dozen "poor 
 fellows ! " intermingled with tittering , was all that his misfortunes 
 called forth after his departure ; and then they set to , like French 
 falconers. The soup was swallowed , the fish disappeared, joints 
 were cut up , pies delivered up their hidden treasures , fowls were 
 dismembered like rotten boroughs , corks were drawn , others flew 
 without the trouble, and they did cat and were filled. Mr. Winter- 
 bottom kept his eye upon the salad, his favourite condiment, 
 mixed it himself, offered it to all , and was glad to find that no one 
 would spare time to eat it; but Mr. Winterbottom could eat for 
 every body, and he did eat. The fragments Avere cleared away, 
 and handed over to us. We were very busy, doing as A/nple justice 
 to them as the party had done before us , when Mr. Winterbottom 
 was observed to turn very pale , and appeared very uneasy. 
 
 *' What 's the matter?" inquired Mr. Tinfoil. 
 
 'm — I 'm not very well — I — I 'm afraid something has 
 disagreed with me. I — I 'm very ill," exclaimed Mr. Winter- 
 bottom , turning as white as a sheet , and screwing up his mouth. 
 
 *' It must be the salad," said one of the ladies; **no one has 
 eaten it but yourself, and we are all well." 
 
250 
 
 I — rather think — it must be — oh 1 do recollect that I 
 thought the oil had a queer taste.'* 
 
 '*Why there was no oil in the castors," replied Tinfoil. '*I 
 desired Jenkins to get some." 
 
 **So did I, particularly," replied Winterbottom. **0h! — 
 di, dear — oh, dear!" 
 
 "Jenkins," cried Tinfoil, where did you get the oil for the 
 castors ? What oil did you get? — are you sure it was right? " 
 
 '*Yes, Sir, quite sure," replied Jenkins. I brought it here 
 in the bottle , and put it into the castors before dinner." 
 Where did you buy it? " 
 
 **At the chemist's. Sir. Here 's the bottle;" and Jenkins 
 produced a bottle with castor oil in large letters labelled on the 
 side. 
 
 The murder was out. Mr. Winterbottom groaned, rose from 
 his seat, for he felt very sick indeed. The misfortunes of indivi- 
 duals generally add to the general quota of mirth, and Mr. Winter- 
 bottom's misfortune had the same effect as that of Mr. Quince. 
 But where was poor Mr. Quince all this time? He had sent for the 
 iron kettle in which the soup had been warmed up , and filling it 
 full of Thames water, had immersed the afflicted parts in the cool- 
 ing element. There he sat with his hands plunged deep, when Mr. 
 Winterbottom made his appearance at the same spot, and Mr. 
 Quince was comforted by witnessing the state of his enemy. In- 
 deed, the sight of Winterbottom's'distress did more to soothe Mr. 
 Quince's pain , than all the Thames water in the world. He rose, 
 and leaving Winterbottom, with his two hands to his head, leaning 
 against a tree , joined the party, and pledged the ladies in succes- 
 sion , till h&was more than half tipsy. 
 
 In the space of half an hour Mr. Winterbottom returned, 
 trembling and shivering as if he had been suffering under an ague. 
 A bumper or two of brandy restored him, and before the day closed 
 in, both Winterbottom and Quince, one applying stimulants to his 
 stomach , and the other drowning his sense of pain in repeated li- 
 bations, were in a state (to say the least of it) of incipient intoxica- 
 tion. But there is a time for all things , and it was time to return. 
 The evening had passed freely ; song had followed song. Tinfoil 
 
251 
 
 had tried his bugle , and played not a little out of tune ; the flute 
 also neglected the flats and sharps as of no consequence ; the ladies 
 thought the gentlemen rather too forward, and, in short, it was time 
 to break up the party. The hampers were repacked, and handed, 
 half empty , into the boat. Of wine there was little left ; and , by 
 the directions of Titania, the plates, dishes, &c. only were to be 
 returned, and the fragments divided among the boatmen. The 
 company re-embarked in high spirits , and we had the ebb-tide to 
 return with. Just as we were shoving off", it was remembered that 
 the ice-pail had been left under the tree, besides a basket with 
 sundries. The other wherries had shoved off, and they were in 
 consequence brought into our boat, in which we had the same com- 
 pany as before, with the exception of Mr. Western, alias Quince, 
 who preferred the boat which carried the hampers, that he might 
 loll over the side, with his hands in the water. Mr. Winter- 
 bottom soon showed the effects of the remedy he had taken 
 against the effects of the castor oil. He was uproarious, and 
 it was with difficulty that he could be persuaded to sit still in the 
 boat, much to the alarm of Titania and the other ladies. He would 
 make violent love to the fairy queen ; and as he constantly shifted 
 his position to address her and throw himself at her feet, there was 
 some danger of the boat being upset. At lastTom proposed to him 
 to sit on the pail before her, as then he could address her with 
 safety; and Winterbottom staggered up to take the seat. As he was 
 seating himself, Tom took off the cover, so that he was plunged into 
 the half-liquid ice; but Mr. Winterbottom was too drunk to per- 
 ceive it. He continued to rant and rave, and protest and vow, and 
 even spout for some time, when suddenly the quantity of caloric 
 extracted from him produced its effect. 
 
 **I — I — really believe that the night is damp — the dew falls 
 — the seat is damp , fair Titania.'* 
 
 ** It 's only fancy, Mr. Winterbottom replied Titania, who 
 was delighted with his situation. Jean trowsers are cool in the 
 evening ; it 's only an excuse to get away from me, and I never will 
 speak again to you , if you quit your seat.'* 
 
 "The fair Titania, the mistress of my soul — and body too, if 
 she pleases — has — but to command — and her slave obeys." 
 
252 
 
 *'Irather think it is a little damp," said Tinfoil; *'alIowmeto 
 throw a little sand upon your seat; " and Tinfoil pulled out a large 
 paper bag full of salt , which he strewed over the ice. 
 
 Winterbottoni was satisfied, and remained ; but by the time we 
 had reached Vauxhall Bridge, the refrigeration had become so 
 complete, that he was fixed in the ice, which the application of the 
 salt had made solid. He complained of cold, shivered, attempted 
 to rise, but could not extricate himself; at last his teeth chattered, 
 and he became almost sober; but he was helpless from the effects 
 of the castor oil,*his intermediate intoxication, and his present state 
 of numbness. He spoke less and less ; at last he was silent, and 
 when we arrived at Whitehall stairs , he was firmly fixed in the ice. 
 When released he could not walk, and he was sent home in a 
 hackney coach. 
 
 ''It was cruel to punish him so , Mr. Tinfoil said Titania. 
 
 ''Cruel punishment. Why, yes; a sort of impailment," 
 replied Mr. Tinfoil , offering his arm. 
 
 The remainder of the party landed and walked home , followed 
 by the two assistants , who took charge of the crockery; and thus 
 ended the pic-nic party, which, as Tom said, was the very fun- 
 niest day he had ever spent in his life. 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 Mr. Tiirnbiill "sets his house in order." — Mrs. T. thinks such conduct 
 very disorderly. — The Captain at his old tricks with his harpoon. — 
 He pays his lady's de)»ts of honour, and gives the applicant a quit- 
 tance under his own foot. — Monsieur and Madame Tagliabue with- 
 draw from the society of ces barbares les Anglais. 
 
 It was on the Sunday after the pic-nic parly , when , feeling I 
 had neglected Captain Turnbull, and that he would think it unkind 
 of me not to go near him, after having accompanied Mary to church, 
 I set off on foot to his villa near Brentford. I rang at the porter's 
 lodge , and asked whether he was at home. 
 
 " Yes, Sir,'' replied the old woman at the lodge, who was very 
 communicative, and very friendly with me; "and missus be al 
 home too." 
 
253 
 
 I walked up the carriage-drive of one hundred yards, which led 
 to the entrance door; and when I rang, it was opened by a servant 
 I had not seen before as belonging to the establishment. ** Where 
 is Mr. Turnbull?" inquired I. 
 
 "He is in his own room, Sir," replied the man; "but you 
 must send up your name, if you please, as every one is not ad- 
 mitted." 
 
 I must observe to the reader that I was not dressed in jacket 
 and trowsers. The money I earned was more than sufficient to 
 supply all my expenses , and I had fitted on what are called at sea, 
 and on the river , long togs; i.e. I was dressed as most people 
 are on shore. The servant evidently took me for a gentleman ; and 
 perhaps, as far as dress went, I was entitled to that distinction. 
 Many people are received as such in this world with less claims 
 than I had. I gave my name; the man left me at the door, and 
 soon returned, requesting that I would follow him. I must say 
 that I was rather astonished; where were Mr. Mortimer , and the 
 two men in flaunting liveries , and long cotton epaulettes with 
 things like little marline-spikes hanging to the ends of them? Even 
 the livery was changed , being a plain brown coat, with light blue 
 collar and cuffs. I was, however, soon made acquainted with 
 what had taken place, on my entering the apartment of Mr. Turn- 
 bull, — his study, as Mrs. T. called it, although Mr. TurubuU 
 insisted upon calling it his cabin , a name certainly more appro- 
 priate, as it contained but two small shelves of books, the remain- 
 der of the space being fdled up with favourite harpoons , propoise* 
 skulls, sharks* jaws, corals, several bears* skins, brown and 
 white, and one or two models of the vessels which had belonged to 
 his brother and himself, and which had been employed in the 
 Greenland fishery. It was, in fact, a sort of museum of all he had 
 collected during his voyages. Esquimaux implements, ornaments, 
 and dresses, were lying about in corners; and skins of rare ani- 
 mals, killed by himself, such as black foxes, (irc, were scattered 
 about the carpet. His sea chest , full of various articles , was also 
 one of the ornaments of the room, much to the annoyance of Mrs. 
 T., who had frequently exerted her influence to get rid of it, but in 
 vain. The only articles of furniture were two sofas, a large table in 
 
254 
 
 the centre , and three or four heavy chairs. The only attempt at 
 adornment consisted in a dozen coloured engravings, framed and 
 glazed, of walrus shooting, d:c. , taken from the folio works of 
 Captains Cook and Mulgrave ; and a sketch or two by his brother, 
 such as the state of the William pressed by an iceberg on the morn- 
 ing of the 25th of January, lat. — , long. — , 
 
 Captain T. was in his morning gown , evidently not very well, 
 at least he appeared harassed and pale. *'My dear Jacob , this is 
 very kind of you. I did mean to scold you for not coming before ; 
 but I 'm too glad to see you to find the heart now. But why have 
 you kept away so long? " 
 
 *'I have really been very well employed. Sir: Stapleton has 
 given me up the wherry, and I could not neglect his interests, even 
 if I did my own." 
 
 Always right, boy; and how are you getting on?" 
 ** I am very happy , Sir, very happy, indeed." 
 
 I 'm glad to hear it, lacob ; may you always be so. Now take 
 the other sofa , and let us have a long palaver , as the Indians say. 
 I have something to tell you. I suppose you observed a change — 
 heh?" 
 
 ** Yes, Sir ; I observed that Mr. Mortimer was not visible. " 
 
 "Exactly. Well, Mr. Mortimer, or John Snobbs , the rascal 
 is at present in Newgate for trial; and I mean to send him out on 
 a voyage for the good of his health. I caught the scoundrel at last, 
 and I'll show him no more mercy than I would to a shark that has 
 taken the bait. But that's not all. We have had a regular mutiny, 
 and attempt to take the ship from me : but I have them all in irons, 
 and ordered for punishment. Jacob , money is but too often a 
 curse, depend upon it." 
 
 '* You'll not find many of your opinion, Sir," replied I, 
 laughing. 
 
 "Perhaps not; because those who have it are content with the 
 importance which it gives to them , and wo'n'^t allow the damnable 
 fact; and because those who have it not, are always sighing after 
 it, as if it were the only thing worth looking after in this world* 
 But now I will just tell you what has happened since I last saw you,, 
 and then you shall judge." 
 
255 
 
 As, however, Captain T.'s narrative ran to a length of nearly 
 three hours, I shall condense the matter for the information of the 
 reader. It appeared that Mrs. T. had continued to increase the 
 lengths of her drives in her carriage , the number of her aquain- 
 tances, and her manifold expenses, until Mr. T. had remonstrated 
 in very strong terms. His remonstrances did not, however, meet 
 with the attention which he had expected : and he found out by 
 accident, moreover, that the money with which he had constantly 
 supplied Mrs. T. , to defray her weekly bills, had been otherwise 
 appropriated; and that the bills for the two last quarters had none 
 of them been paid. This produced an altercation, and a desire 
 on his part to know in what manner these sums had been dis- 
 bursed. At first the only reply from Mrs. T. , who considered it 
 advisable to brazen it out, and, if possible, gain the ascendency 
 which was necessary, was a contemptuous toss of her head, which 
 undulated the three yellow ostrich feathers in her bonnet, as she 
 walked out of the room and entered her carriage. This, to Mr. T., 
 who was a matter-of-fact man, was not very satisfactory; he 
 waited per force until the carriage returned, and then demanded 
 an explicit answer. Mrs. T. assumed the highest ground , talked 
 about fashionable expenses, her knowledge of what w as due to his 
 character, (fee. Mr. T. rejoined about necessary expenses, and 
 that it was due to his character to pay his tradesmen's bills. Mrs. 
 T. then talked of good breeding, best society, and her many 
 plaiscrs, as she termed them. Mr. T. did not know what many 
 pleasures meant in French; but he thought she had been in- 
 dulged in as many as most women since they had come down to 
 this establishment. But to the question ; w hy were not the bills 
 paid, and what had she done with the money? Spent it in pin 
 money. Pin money! thirty pounds a week in pins! it would 
 have bought harpoons enough for a three years' voyage. She must 
 tell the truth. She wouldn't tell any thing, but called for her salts, 
 and called him a brute. At all events, he wouldn't becalleda 
 fool. He gave her till the next morning to consider of it. The 
 next morning the bills were all sent in as requested, and amounted 
 to six hundred pounds. They were paid and receipted. **Now, 
 Mrs. T. , will you oblige me by letting me know w hat you have 
 
256 
 
 done with this six hundred pounds?" Mrs. T. would not — she 
 was not to be treated in that manner. Mr. T. was not on board 
 whaler now, to bully and frighten as he pleased. She would have 
 justice done her. Have a separation, lialimonj, and a divorce. 
 She might have them all if she pleased , but she should have no 
 more money, that was certain. Then she would have a fit of 
 hysterics. So she did, and lay the whole of the day on the sofa, 
 expecting Mr. T. would pick her up. But the idea never came into 
 Mr. T.'s head. He went to bed ; and feeling restless, he rose very 
 early, and saw from his window a cart drive up to the wall, and the 
 parties who came with it leap over and enter the house, and return 
 carrying to it two large hampers. He snatched up one of his har- 
 poons, walked out the other way, and arrived at the cart just as 
 the hampers had been put in , and they were about to drive off; 
 challenged them , and instead of being answered , the horse was 
 flogged, and he nearly run over. He then let fly his harpoon into 
 the horse, which dropped, and pitched out the two men on their 
 heads insensible ; secured them, called to the lodge for assistance, 
 sent for constables, and gave them in charge. They proved to be 
 hampers forwarded by Mr. Mortimer, who had been in the habit 
 of so doing for some time. These hampers contained his best 
 wine, and various other articles , which also proved that Mr. xMor- 
 timer must have had false keys. Leaving the culprits and property 
 in charge of two constables, Mr. T. returned to the house in com- 
 pany with the third constable ; the door was opened by Mr..Morti- 
 mer, who followed him into his study, told him he should leave 
 the house directly, had always lived with gentlemen before, and 
 requested that he might have what was due to him. Mr. T. thought 
 the request but reasonable , and therefore gave him in charge of 
 the constable. Mr. Snobbs , rather confounded at such ungentle- 
 manly behaviour, was, with the others, marched off to Bow Street. 
 Mr. T. sends for the other two servants in livery, and assures them 
 that he has no longer any occasion for their services, having the 
 excessive vulgar idea that this peculation must have been known to 
 them. Pays them their wages, requests they will take off their 
 liveries, and leave the house. Both willing. They also had al- 
 ways lived with gentlemen before. Mr. T. takes the key of the 
 
257 
 
 butler's pantry , that the plate may not consider him too vulgar to 
 remain in the house, and then walks to the stables. Horses neigh, 
 as if to say they are all ready for their breakfasts ; but the door 
 locked. Hails the coachman , no answer. Returning from the 
 stables, perceives coachee rather dusty coming in at the lodge gate ; 
 requests to know why he did not sleep at home and take care of his 
 horses. He was missus's coachman, not master's, and could 
 satisfy her, but could not satisfy Mr.T. ; who paid him his wages, 
 and, deducting his liveries, sent him after the others. Coackee 
 also very glad to go — had always lived with gentlemen before. 
 Meets the lady's maid, who tells him Mrs. T. is much too ill to 
 come down to breakfast. Rather fortunate, as there was no break- 
 fast to be had. Dresses himself, gets into a pair-horse coach, ar- 
 rives at the White Horse Cellar, swallows his breakfast, goes to 
 Bow Street, commits Mr. Mortimer alias Snobbs, and his con- 
 federates , for trial. Hires a job-man to bring the horses up for 
 sale, and leaves his carriage at the coachmaker's. Obtains a tem- 
 porary footman, and then Mr. T. returns to his villa. A very good 
 morning's work. Finds Mrs. T. np in the parlour, very much 
 surprised and shocked at his conduct — at no Mr. Mortimer — at 
 no servants, and indebted to her own maid for a cup of tea. More 
 recriminations — more violence — another threat of //alimony, 
 and the carriage ordered , that she may seek counsel. No coach- 
 man — no carriage — no horses — no nothing, as her maid de- 
 clares. Mrs. T. locks herself up in her room, and another day is 
 passed with as little matrimonial comfort as can be expected. 
 
 In the mean time the news flies in every direction. Brentford is 
 full of it. Mr. T. had been living too fast — is done up — had 
 been had up at Bow Street — creditors had poured in with bills — 
 servants discharged — carriage and horses seized. Mrs. T., poor 
 creature, in hysterics, and — nobody surprised at it; indeed, 
 every body expected it. The Peters of Petercumb Hall heard it, 
 and shook their heads at the many upstarts there were in the world. 
 Mr. Smith requested the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Bab- 
 bleton never to mention to his father the Right Honourable Marquis 
 of Spring-guns , that he had ever been taken to see the Turnbulls, 
 or that he , Mr. Smith , would infallibly lose his situation in 
 
 Jacob Faithful. 17 
 
258 
 
 esse, and his living in posse: and Monsieur and Madame 
 Tagliabue were even more astounded ; but they felt deeply, and 
 resolved to pay a visit the next morning , at least Monsieur Taglia- 
 bue did, and Madame acknowledged to the propriety of it. 
 
 The next morning some little order had been restored; the 
 footman hired had been given in charge of a sufficient quantity of 
 plate, the rest had been locked up. The cook was to stay her 
 month ; the housemaid had no wish to leave ; and as for the lady's 
 maid, she Would remain as long as she could, to console her poor 
 mistress, and accept what she was inclined to give her in return, 
 in the way of clothes, dresses, &c., although, of course, she 
 could not hurt her character by remaining too long in a family 
 where there was no carriage , or gentleman out of livery. Still 
 Mr. T. did obtain some breakfast, and had just finished it when 
 Monsieur Tagliabue was announced , and was received. 
 
 **Ah! Monsieur T. , I hope madame, is better. Madame 
 Tagliabue did nothing but cry all last night when she heard the 
 very bad news about de debt, and all dat." 
 
 Very much obliged to Madame replied Turnbull , gruffly ; 
 *'and now, pray Sir, what may be your pleasure?" 
 
 **Ah! Monsieur Turnbull, I feel very much for you; but 
 suppose a gentleman no lose his honour, what matter de 
 money?" (Mr. Turnbull stared.) **You see. Monsieur Turn- 
 bull , honour be everything to a gentleman. If a gentleman owe 
 money to one rascally tradesfellow, and not pay him, dat no great 
 matter; but he always pay de debt of honour. Every gentleman 
 pay dat. Here , Monsieur Turnbull ," (and the little Frenchman 
 pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket,) **be a leetle note of 
 Madame Turnbull, which she gave to Madame Tagliabue, in 
 which she acknowledged she owe two hundred pounds for money 
 lost at ecart6. Dat you see. Monsieur Turnbull, be what 
 gentlemen call debt of honour, which every gentleman pay, or 
 else he lose de character, and be called one blackguard by all de 
 world. Madame Tagliabue and I too much fond of you and Ma- 
 dame Turnbull not to save your character, and so I come by her 
 wish to beg you to Settle this leetle note — this leetle debt of 
 
259 
 
 honour;*' and Monsieur Tagliabue laid the note on the table, 
 with a very polite bow. 
 
 Mr. Turnbull examined the note ; it was as described by Mon- 
 sieur Tagliabue. So, thought he, now thfe whole story's out; 
 she has been swindled out of her money by this rascally French 
 couple. *'Now, Monsieur Tagliabue," said he, allow me to 
 put a question or two , before I pay this money ; and if you answer 
 me sincerely, I shall raisje no objection. I think Mrs. T. has al- 
 ready lost about six hundred pounds at ^cart6 before?" (Mon- 
 sieur T., who presumed that Mrs. Turnbull had made him ac- 
 quainted with the fact, answered in the affirmative.) **And I 
 think that two months ago she never knew what ^cart^ was." 
 Dat is true ; but the ladies are very quick to learn." 
 
 **Well, but now, do you think that, as she knew nothing 
 about the game , and you and your wife are well acquainted with 
 it , it was honourable on your part to allow her to lose so much 
 money?" 
 
 **Ah! Monsieur, when a lady say she will play, comment 
 faire, what can you do?" 
 
 **But why did you never play at this house. Monsieur 
 Tagliabue?" 
 
 Ah ! Monsieur Turnbull , it is for de lady of de house to pro- 
 pose de game." 
 
 ** Very true," replied Mr. Turnbull , writing a cheque for the 
 two hundred pounds : there is your money, Mr. Tagliabue ; and 
 now that you are paid , allow me to observe that I consider you and 
 your wife a couple of swindlers ; and beg that you will never enter 
 my doors again." 
 
 Vat you say, sar? Swind-lare! Goddam! Sar, I will 
 have satisfaction." 
 
 You 've got your money — is that sufficient, or do you want 
 any thing else?" replied Mr. T. , rising from his chair. 
 "Yes, sar, I do want more I will have more." 
 "So you shall, then," replied Mr. Turnbull, kicking him 
 out of the room , along the passage and out of the front door. 
 
 Monsieur Tagliabue turned round every now and then, and 
 threatened, and then tried to escape, as he perceived the upraised 
 
 17* 
 
260 
 
 boot of Mr. TurnbuU. When fairly out of the house , he turned 
 round, Monsieur Turnbull, I will have de satisfaction, de 
 terrible satisfaction for this. You shall pay. By God , sar , you 
 shall pay — de money for this." 
 
 That evening Mr. Turnbull was summoned to appear at Bow 
 Street on the following morning for the assault. He met Mon- 
 sieur Tagliabue with his lawyer, and acknowledged that he had 
 kicked him out of his house for swindling his wife , refused all 
 accommodation, and was prepared with his bail. Monsieur 
 Tagliabue stormed and blustered, talked about his acquaintance 
 with the nobility; but the magistrate had seen too much of 
 foreigners to place much reliance on their asseverations. Who 
 are you, Monsieur?" 
 
 ' ' Sar , I am a gentleman." 
 What profession are you of, Sir?" 
 
 " Sar , a gentleman has no profession." 
 
 *'But how do you live , Monsieur Tagliabue?" 
 As a gentleman always does , sar." 
 
 *'You mentioned Lord Scrope just now as your particular 
 friend, I think?" 
 
 *'Yes, sar, me very intimate with Lord Scrope; me spend 
 three months at Scrope Castle with mi Lady Scrope ; mi Lady 
 Scrope very fond of Madame Tagliabue." 
 
 ''Very well, Monsieur Tagliabue; we must proceed with 
 another case until Mr. TurnbuU's bail arrives. Sit down for a 
 little while, if you please." 
 
 Another case was then heard, which lasted about half an 
 hour: but previous to hearing it, the magistrate , who knew that 
 Lord Scrope was in town , had despatched a runner with a note to 
 his lordship , and the answer was now brought back. The ma- 
 gistrate read it, and smiled; went on with the other case, and 
 when it was finished, said, *'Now, M. Tagliabue, you have said 
 that you were very intimate with Lord Scrope." 
 
 *'Yes, sar, very intimate." 
 
 ''Well, Lord Scrope I have the pleasure of knowing; and, 
 as he is in town, I wrote a note to him, and here is his answer. 
 I will read it." 
 
261 
 
 M. Tagliabue turned pale as the magistrate read the Follow- 
 ing: — 
 
 "Dear Sir, — A fellow of the name you mention came from 
 nnssia with me, as my valet. I discharged him for dishonesty; 
 after he left, Lady Scrope's attendant, who it appeared was, un- 
 known to us, married to him , left also, and then I discovered their 
 peculations to have been so extensive, that had we known where to 
 have laid hold of him, I should certainly have brought them before 
 you. Now the affair is forgotten; but a greater scoundrel never 
 existed. 
 
 ''Yours, ScROPK." 
 
 **Now, Sir, what have you to say for yourself?" continued 
 the magistrate in a severe tone. M. Tagliabue fell on his knees, 
 and begged for mercy from the magistrate, from Lord Scrope, 
 and , lastly , from Mr. TurnbuU , to whom he proffered the draft 
 for 200 f . The magistrate , seeing that Mr. TurnbuU did not 
 take it, said to him, *'Make no ceremony of taking your money 
 back again , Mr. TurnbuU ; the very offer of it proves that he has 
 gained it dishonestly; and 600 f are quite enough to have lost." 
 Mr. TurnbuU then took the cheque and tore it in pieces , and the 
 magistrate ordered Mr. Tagliabue to be taken to the alien office, 
 and he was sent to the other side of the Channel , in company with 
 his wife, to play dearth with whomsoever he pleased. Thus 
 ended this episode of Monsieur Tagliabue. 
 
262 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Mr. Turnbull finils out that money, though a necessary evil, is not a 
 source of happiness; the Domine finds out that a little calumny is 
 more eflfectual than Ovid's [remedy for love; and 1 find out that walk- 
 ing gives one a good appetite for fillet of veal and bacon. — 1 set an 
 example to the clergy in refusing to take money for a seat in church. 
 
 ** And now you see, Jacob , what a revolution has taken place ; 
 not ve ry pleasant , I grant , but still it was very necessary. I have 
 since been paying all my bills , for the report of my being in diffi- 
 culty has brought them in fast enough ; and I find that in these last 
 five months my wife has spent a whole year's income , so it was 
 quite time to stop." 
 
 ''I agree with you , Sir ; but what does Mrs. Turnbull say now 
 has she come to her senses?" 
 
 Pretty well , I expect , although she does not quite choose to 
 acknowlege it. I have told her that she must dispense with a car- 
 riage in future ; and so she shall, till I think she deserves it. She 
 knows that she must either have my company in the house, or 
 none at all. She knows that the Peters of Petercumb Hall have cut 
 her, for they did not answer a note of hers , sent by the gardener ; 
 and Mr. Smith has written a very violent answer to another of her 
 notes, wondering at her attempting to push herself into the com- 
 pany of the aristocracy. But what has brought her to her senses 
 more than all, is the aflfair of Monsieur Tagliabue. The magistrate, 
 at my request, gave me the note of Lord Scrope, and I have taken 
 good care that she should read the police report as well ; but the 
 fact is , she is so much mortified , that I say nothing to her. She 
 has been following the advice of these French swindlers, who have 
 led her wrong , to be able to cheat her of her money. I expect she 
 
263 
 
 will ask me to sell this place, and go elsewhere ; but at present we 
 hardly exchange a word during the whole day." 
 
 I feel very sorry for her , Sir ; for I really believe her to be a 
 very good, kind-hearted person." 
 
 That 's like you , Jacob — and so she is. At present she is 
 in a state to be pitied. She would throw a share of the blame upon 
 other people , and cannot — she feels it is all herself. All her 
 bubbles of grandeur have burst, and she finds herself not half so 
 respectable as she, was before her vanity induced her to cut her 
 former acquaintance , and try to get into the society, of those who 
 laughed at her, and at the same time were not half so creditable. 
 But it 's that cursed money which has proved her unhappiuess — 
 
 — and, I may add, mine." 
 
 Well , Sir, I see no chance of its ever adding to my misfor- 
 tunes, at all events." 
 
 ** Perhaps not, Jacob, even if you ever should get any ; but, at 
 all events, you may take a little to-morrow, if you please. I cannot 
 ask you to dine here , it would not be pleasant to you , and show a 
 want of feeling to my wife ; but I should like you to come up with 
 the wherry to-morrow , and we '11 take a cruize." 
 
 * * Very well , I shall bje at your orders — at w hat time ? " 
 
 **Say ten o'clock, if the weather is fine; if not, the next 
 day." 
 
 *'Then, Sir, I '11 now wish you good-by, as I must go and 
 s.ee theDomine." 
 
 Mr. TurnbuU shook my hand , and we parted. I was soon at 
 Brentford , and was continuing my course through the Long, main 
 street, when I met Mr. and Mrs. Tomkins, the former head clerk, 
 who had charge of the Brentford Wharf. *' I was intending to call 
 upon you , Sir , after I had paid a visit to my old master." 
 
 ** Very well, Jacob; and recollect we dine at half-past three 
 
 — fillet of veal and bacon — don't be too late for dinner." 
 
 I promised that I would not, and , in a few minutes more , ar- 
 rived at the Grammar School. I looked at its peaked , antiquated 
 front, and called to mind my feelings when, years back, I had first 
 entered its porch. What a difference between the little, uncouth, 
 ignorant, savage, tricked out like a harlequin , and now the tall, 
 
264 
 
 athletic, well-dressed youth, happy in his independence, and con- 
 scious , although not vain , of his acquirements ! and I mentally 
 blessed the founders. But I had to talk to the Domine, and to keep 
 my appointment with the veal and bacon at half-past three, so I 
 could not spare any time for meditation. I therefore unfolded my 
 arms, and, making use of my legs, entered the wicket, and pro- 
 ceeded to the Domine's room. The door was ajar, and I entered 
 without being perceived. I have often been reminded, by Flemish 
 paintings which I have seen since, of the picture which then pre- 
 sented itself. The room was not large, but lofty. It had but one 
 window, fitted with small diamond-sha^^»ed panes, in heavy wood- 
 work, through which poured a broad, but subdued, stream of 
 light. On one side of the window was an ancient armoire , con- 
 taining the Domine's library, not gilt and lettered, but well 
 thumbed and worn. On the other his huge chest of drawers, on 
 which lay , alas ! for the benefit of the rising generation , a new 
 birch rod, of large dimensions. The table was in the centre of the 
 room, and the Domine sat at it, with his back to the window, in a 
 dressing-gown, once black, having been a cassock, but now brown 
 with age. He was on his high and narrow-backed chair, leaning 
 forwards , with both elbows on the table , his spectacles on his 
 luxuriant nose, and his hands nearly meeting on the top of his bald 
 crown, earnestly poring over the contents of a book. A large Bible, 
 which he constantly made use of , was also on the table, and had 
 apparently been shoved from him to give place to the present ob- 
 ject of his meditations. His pipe lay on the floor, in two pieces, 
 having been thrown off without his perceiving it. On one side of 
 him was a sheet of paper, on which he evidently had been writing 
 extracts. I passed by him without his perceiving me, and, gaining 
 the back of his chair , looked over his shoulder. The work he was 
 so intent upon was * * Ovid's Remedy of Love." 
 
 It appeared that he had nearly finished reading through the 
 whole, for in less than a minute he closed the book, and laying his 
 spectacles down , threw himself back in his chair. ** Strange," 
 soliloquised the Domine. Yet, verily, is some of his advice im- 
 portant, and I should imagine commendable, yet I do not find my 
 remedy therein. *Avoid idleness,' — yes, that is sage counsel — 
 
265 
 
 and employment to one that hath not employed himself, may 
 drive away thought; but I have never been idle, and mine hath not 
 been love in idleness. *Avoid her presence,' — that I must 
 do; yet doth she still present herself to mine imagination, and I 
 doubt whether the tangible reality could be more clearly percep- 
 tible. Even now doth she stand before me in all her beauty. *Rea d 
 not Propertius and TibuUus,* — that is easily refrained 
 from ; but read what I will , in a minute the type passeth from my 
 eyes, and I see but her face beaming from the page, Nay, cast my 
 eyes in what direction I may wist , it is the same. If I look at the 
 stained wall , the indistinct lines gradually form themselves into 
 herprofde; if I look at the clouds, they will assume some of the 
 redundant outlines of her form; if I cast mine eyes upon the fire 
 in the kitchen grate , the coals will glow and cool until I see her 
 face; nay, but yesterday , the shoulder of mutton upon the spit, 
 gyrated until it at last assumed the decapitated head of Mary. 
 'Think of her faults and magnify them,' — nay, that were 
 unjust and unchristian. Let me rather correct mine own. I fear 
 me, that when Ovid wrote his picture, he intended it for the use of 
 young men, and not for an old fool like me. Behold ! I have again 
 broken my pipe — the fourth pipe that I have destroyed this week. 
 What will the dame say? already hath she declared me demented, 
 and God knows she is not very far from the truth; " and the Do- 
 mine covered up his face in his hands. I took this opportunity to 
 step to, the door , and appear to enter it , dropping the latch , and 
 rousing the Domine by the noise , who extended to me his hand. 
 ** Welcome, my son — - welcome to thine old preceptor, and to the 
 walls which first received thee , when thou wert cast on shore as a 
 tangle weed from the river. Sit , Jacob ; I was thinking of thee 
 and thine." 
 
 **What, Sir! of old Stapleton and his daughter, I suppose." 
 
 *'Even so; ye were all in my thoughts at the moment that thou 
 madest thy appearance. They are well ? " 
 
 "Yes, Sir," replied I. **I see but little of them; the old 
 man is always smoking, and as for the girl — why, the less one 
 sees of her the better, I should say." 
 
 **Nay, Jacob, this is new tome; yet is she most pleasant.*' 
 
266 
 
 I knew the Domine's character , and that if any thing could cure 
 his unfortunate passion , it would be a supposition , on his part, 
 that the girl was not correct. I determined at all events to de-* 
 preciate her, as I knew that what I said would never be mentioned 
 by him, and would therefore do her no harm. Still, I felt that I 
 had to play a difficult game , as I was determined not to state what 
 was not the fact. ** Pleasant, Sir; yes, pleasant to every body ; 
 the fact is , I don't like such girls as she is." 
 
 "Indeed, Jacob; what, is she light?'* I smiled, and made 
 no answer. Yet I perceived it not replied the Domine. 
 
 " She is just like her mother, Sir," observed!. 
 And what was her mother?" 
 
 I gave a brief account of her mother, and how she met her 
 death in trying to escape from her husband. The Domine mused. 
 ** Little skilled am I in women, Jacob, yet what thou sayest not 
 only surpriseth but grieveth me. She is fair to look upon." 
 
 Handsome is that handsome does, Sir. She '11 make many 
 a man's heart ache yet, I expect." 
 
 In deed , Jacob , I am full of marvel at what thou hast already 
 told me." 
 
 ' * I have seen more of her , Sir." 
 
 *' I pray thee tell me more." 
 
 '*No, Sir, I had rather not. You may now imagine all you 
 please." 
 
 Still she is young, Jacob; when she becometh a wife she 
 might alter." 
 
 '*Sir, it is my firm opinion (and so it was), that if you were 
 to marry her to-morrow, she would run away from you in a 
 week." 
 
 ' ' Is that thy candid opinion , Jacob ? " 
 I will stake my life upon her so doing, although not as to the 
 exact time." 
 
 Jacob, I thank thee — thank thee much; thou hast opened 
 mine eyes — thou hast done me more good than Ovid. Yes, boy ; 
 even the ancients, whom I have venerated, have not done me so 
 kind an act as thou , a stripling , whom thave fostered. Thou hast 
 repaid me , Jacob — thou hast rewarded me , Jacob — thou hast 
 
267 
 
 protected me, Jacob — thou hast saved me , Jacob — hasl saved 
 me ,. both from myself and from her ; for know, Jacob — know — 
 that mine heart did yearn towards that maiden ; and I thought her 
 even to be perfection. Jacob, I thank thee! Now leave me, 
 Jacob , that I may commune with myself, and search out my own 
 heart, for I am awakened — awakened as from a dream, and I 
 would fain be quite alone." 
 
 I was not sorry to leave the Domine , for I also felt that I would 
 fain be in company with the fillet of veal and bacon , so I shook 
 hands, and thus ended my second morning call. I was in good 
 time at Mr. Tomkins's, who received me with great kindness. 
 He was well pleased with his new situation , which was one of re- 
 spectability and consequence , independently of profit; and I met 
 at his table one or two people, who, to my knowledge, would 
 have considered it degrading to have visited him when only head 
 clerk to Mr. Drummond. We talked over old affairs, not forget- 
 ting the ball, and the illuminations, and Mr. TurnbuH's bon- 
 mot about Paradise; and after a very pleasant evening, I took 
 my leave with the intention of walking back to Fulham, but 1 found 
 old Tom waiting outside , on the look out for me. 
 
 ** Jacob , my boy , I want you to come down to my old shop one 
 of these days. What day will you be able to come? The lighter 
 will be here for a fortnight at least, I find from Mr. Tomkins , as 
 she waits for a cargo coming by canal , and there is no other craft 
 expected above bridge , so tell me what day will you come and see 
 •the old woman , and spend the whole day with us. I wants to talk 
 a bit with you, and ax your opinion about a good many little 
 things." 
 
 ** Indeed I" replied I, smiling. **What, are you going to 
 build a new house?" 
 
 **No, no — not that; but you see, Jacob, as I told you last 
 winter, it was time for me to give up night work up and down the 
 river. I 'm not so young as I was about fifty years ago , and there's 
 a time for all things. I do mean to give up the craft in the autumn, 
 and go onshore for a full due: but, at the same time, I must 
 see how I can make matters out, so tell me what day you will 
 come." 
 
268 
 
 **Well, then, shall we say Wednesday?" 
 Wednesday's as good a day as any other day; come to break- 
 fast, and you shall go away after supper, if you like; if not, thQ 
 old woman shall sling a hammock for you.*' 
 Agreed, then ; but where's Tom?" 
 
 '* Tom, I don't know ; but I think he's gope after that daughter 
 of Stapleton's. He begins to think of the girls now, Jacob ; but, 
 as the old buffer her father says , * it's all human natur.* Howsom- 
 ever , I never interferes in these matters ; they seem to be pretty 
 well matched, I think." 
 
 * * How do you mean ? " 
 Why, as for good looks, they be well enough matched, that's 
 sure; but I don't mean that, I mean, he is quite as knowing as 
 she is , and will shift his helm as she shifts hers. 'Twill be a long 
 running fight, and when one strikes , t'other wo'n't have much to 
 boast of. Perhaps they may sheer off, after all — perhaps they 
 may sail as consorts , God only knows ; but this I knows , that 
 Tom's sweetheart may be as tricky as she pleases , but Tom's wife 
 wo'n't be, — 'cause why? he'll keep her in order. Well, good 
 night ; I have a long walk." 
 
 When 1 returned home , I found Mary alone. * * Has Tom been 
 here?" inquired I. 
 
 What makes you ask that question? " replied Mary. 
 
 **To have it answered — if you have no objection." 
 
 **0 no! Well, then, Mr. Jacob, Tom has been here, and 
 very amusing he has been." 
 
 ** So he always is ," replied I. 
 And where may you have been ? " I told her. ** So you saw 
 oldDomine. Now, tell me, what did he say about me?" 
 
 *'That I shall not tell," replied I; *'but I will tell you this, 
 that he will never think about you any more ; and you must not ex- 
 pect ever to see him again." 
 
 * ' Bu t recollect that he promised 
 He kept his promise, Mary." 
 
 *'0 he told you so, did he? Did he tell you all that passed?" 
 
 '*No, Mary, be never told me that he had been here; neither 
 did he tell me what had passed ; but I happen to know all." 
 
269 
 
 I cannot understand that." 
 
 Still it is true ; and I think , on the whole , you behaved pretty 
 well, although I cannot understand- why you gave him a kiss at 
 parting." 
 
 Good heavens ! where were you? you must have been in the 
 room. And you heard every word that passed ? " 
 Every word replied I. 
 '* Well said Mary, *' I could not have believed that you could 
 have done so mean a thing." 
 
 **Mary, rather accuse your own imprudence; what I heard 
 was to be heard by every one in the street as well as by me. If you 
 choose to have love scenes in a room not eight feet from the 
 ground , with the window wide open , you must not be surprised 
 at every passer-by hearing what you say." 
 
 Well, that's true ; I never thought of the window being open ; 
 not that I would have caied if all the world had heard me , if you 
 had not." 
 
 It never occurred to me till then , why Mary was annoyed at my 
 having overheard her, but at once I recollected what she had said 
 about me. I made no answer. Mary sat down , leaned her fore- 
 head against her hands , and was also silent; I therefore took my 
 candle and retired. It appeared that Mary's pride was much 
 mortified at my having heard her confession of being partial to me 
 — a confession which certainly made very little impression on me, 
 as I considered- that she might , a month afterwards , confess the 
 same relative to Tom , or any other individual who took her fancy; 
 but in this I did not do her justice. Her manners were afterwards 
 much changed towards me; she always appeared to avoid, rather 
 than to seek, further intimacy. As for myself, I continued, as 
 before, very good friends , kind towards her, but nothing more. 
 The next morning I was up at Mr. Turnbull's by the time agreed 
 upon , but before I set off, rather a singular occurrence took place. 
 I had just finished cleaning my boat, and had resumed my jacket, 
 when a dark man , from some foreign country , came to the hard, 
 with a bundle under his arm. 
 
 **How much for to go to the other side of the river — how 
 much pence?" 
 
270 
 
 Two -pence replied I; but not caring to take him , I con- 
 tinued , **but you only pay one penny to cross the bridge." 
 
 ** I know very well , but suppose you take me? " 
 
 He was a well -looking, not very dark man ; his turban was of 
 coloured cloth — his trowsers not very wide ; and I could not com- 
 prehend whether he was a Turk or not ; I afterwards found out he 
 wasaParsee, from the East Indies. He spoke very plain English. 
 Ashe decided upon crossing, I received him, and shoved off; 
 when we were in the middle of the stream, he requested me to pull 
 a little way up. '*That will do," said he, opening his bundle, 
 and spreading a carpet on the stern flooring of the wherry. He 
 then rose, looking at the sun, which was then rising in all its 
 majesty, bowed to it, with his hands raised, three limes, then 
 knelt on the carpet, and touched it several times with his forehead, 
 again rose on his feet , took some common field flowers from his 
 vest, and cast them into the stream , bowed again , folded up his 
 carpet, and begged me to pull on shore. 
 
 **I say my prayers," said the man, looking at me with his 
 dark piercing eye. 
 
 * * Very proper ; whom did you say them to ? " 
 
 *'TomyGod." 
 But why don't you say them on shore? " 
 
 ** Can't see sun in the house ; suppose I go out, little boys laugh 
 and throw mud. Where no am seen , river very proper place." 
 
 We landed, and "he took out three-pence, and olTered it to 
 me. *'No, no," said I, *'I don't want you to pay for saying 
 your prayers." 
 
 *' No take money?" 
 
 **Yes, take money to cross the river, but not take money for 
 saying prayers. If you want to say them any other morning , come 
 down , and if I am here , I '11 always pull you into the stream." 
 
 ''You very good man , I thank you." 
 
 The Parsee made me a low salaam , and walked away. I may 
 here observe , that the man generally came down at sunrise two or 
 three days in the week , and I invariably gave him a pull off into 
 the stream , that he might pursue his religious ceremony. We 
 often conversed , and at last became intimate. 
 
271 
 
 Mr. Turnbull was at the bottom of the lawn which extended 
 from his house to the banks of the river, looking out for me, when 
 I pulled up. The basket with our dinner, <fec. was lying by him 
 on the gravel - walk . 
 
 "This is a lovely morning , Jacob ; but it will be rather a warm 
 day, I expect," said he; "come, let us be off at once; lay in 
 your sculls , and let us get the oars to pass." 
 
 "How is Mrs. Turnbull, Sir?" 
 
 "Pretty well, Jacob, more like the Molly Brown that I married, 
 than she has been for some years. Perhaps, after all, this affair 
 may turn out one of the best things that ever happened. It may 
 bring her to her senses — bring happiness back to our hearth ; 
 and if so , Jacob , the money is well spent." 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Mr. Turnbull and I go on a party of pleasure. — It turns out to he an 
 adventure, and winds up with a blunderbuss , a tin-box, and a lady's 
 cloak. 
 
 We pulled leisurely up stream, talking, and every now and 
 then resting on our oars, to take breath; for, as the old captain 
 said, "Why should we make a toil of pleasure? Hike the upper 
 part of the river best, Jacob, because the water is clear, and I 
 love clear water. How many hours have I , when a boy on board 
 ship , hung over the gunwale of a boat, lowered down in a calm, 
 .and watched the little floating objects in the dark blue un- 
 fathomable water beneath me; objects of all sizes, of all colours, 
 and of all shapes — all of them beautiful, and to be admired ; yet 
 of them , perhaps not one in hundreds of millions ever meet the 
 eye of man. You know, Jacob, that the North Seas are full of 
 these animals — you cannot imagine the quantity of them ; the 
 sailors call them blubbers , because they are composed of a sort 
 of transparent jelly , but the real name I am told is Medusae , that 
 is the learned name. The whale feeds on them, and that is the 
 reason why the whale is found where they are." 
 
 " I should like very much to go a voyage to the whale fishery," 
 replied I ; "I 'vc heard so much about it from you." 
 
272 
 
 ** It is a stirring life , and a hard life , Jacob , still it is an ex- 
 citing one. Some voyages will turn out very pleasant , but others 
 are dreadful , from their anxiety. If the weather continues fine, 
 it is all very well ; but sometimes when there is a continuance of 
 bad weather, it is dreadful. I recollect one voyage which made 
 me show more grey hairs than all the others , and I think I have 
 been twenty-two in all. We were in the drift ice , forcing our way 
 to the northward , when it came on to blow t- the sea rose , and 
 after a week's gale, it was tremendous. We had little daylight, 
 and when it was daylight , the fog was so thick that we could see 
 but little ; there we were tossing among the large drift ice , meet- 
 ing immense icebergs which bore down with all the force of the 
 gale , and each time we narrowly escaped perishing : the rigging 
 was loaded with ice ; the bows of the ship were cased with it; the 
 men were more than half frozen , and we could not move a rope 
 through a block, without pouring boiling water through it first, 
 to clear it out. But then the long , dreary, dreadful nights , when 
 we were rising on the mountain wave , and then pitching down into 
 the trough, not knowing but that at each send we might strike 
 upon the ice below , and go to the bottom immediately afterwards. 
 All pitchy dark — the wind howling , and as it struck you , cutting 
 you to the back-bone with its cold searching power, the waves 
 dancing all black around you , and every now and then perceiving 
 by its white colour and the foam encircling it , a huge mass of ice 
 borne upon you , and hurled against you as if there were a demon, 
 who was using it as an engine for your destruction. I never shall 
 forget the turning of an iceberg, during that dreadful gale, which 
 lasted for a month and three days.'' 
 
 I don't know what that means , Sir." 
 
 "Why you must know, Jacob , that the icebergs are all fresh 
 water , and are supposed to have been detached from the land by 
 the force of the weather and other causes. Now although ice floats, 
 yet it floats deep : that is , if an iceberg is five hundred feet high 
 above the water, it is generally six times as deep below the water - 
 do you understand? " 
 
 Perfectly, Sir." 
 
273 
 
 i **Now, Jacob, the water is much warmer than the air, and, 
 in consequence , the ice under the water melts away much faster; 
 so that if an iceberg has been some time afloat, at last the part 
 that is below is not so heavy as that which is above ; then it turns, 
 that is , it upsets and floats in another position." 
 ' * I understand you , Sir." 
 
 "Well, we were close to an iceberg, which was to windward 
 of us, a very tall one, indeed, and we reckoned that we should 
 get clear of it , for we were carrying a press of sail to efl*ect it. Still 
 all hands were eagerly watching the iceberg , as it came down very 
 fast before the storm. All of a sudden it blew twice as hard as 
 before, and then one of the men shouted out — * Turning, turn- 
 ing!* — and sure enough it was. There was its towering sum- 
 mit gradually bowing towards us , until it almost appeared as if 
 the peak was over our heads. Our fate appeared inevitable , as 
 the whole mountain of ice was descending on the vessel, and 
 would, of course, have crushed us into atoms. We all fell on 
 our knees, praying mentally, and watching its awful descent; 
 even the man at the helm did the same , although he did not let go 
 the spokes of the wheel. It had nearly half turned over, right for 
 us, when the ice below being heavier on one side than on the 
 other , gave it a more slanting impetus , and shifting the direction 
 of its fall, it plunged into the sea about a cable's length astern of 
 us, throwing up the water to the heavens in foam, and blinding 
 us all with the violence with which it dashed into our faces. For 
 a minute , the run of the waves was checked , and the sea appeared 
 to boil and dance , throwing up peaked pointed masses of water in 
 all directions, one sinking, another rising; the ship rocked and 
 reeled as if she were drunk; even the current of the "gale was 
 checked for a moment, and the heavy sails flapped and cleared 
 themselves of their icy varnishing — then all was over. There 
 was an iceberg of another shape astern of us, the gale recom- 
 menced, the waves pressed each other on as before, and we felt 
 the return of the gale , awful as it was , as a reprieve. That was a 
 dreadful voyage , Jacob , and turned one third of my hair grey ; 
 and what made it worse was , that we had only three fish on board 
 on our return. However, we had reason to be thankful, for 
 
 Jacob Faithful, IS 
 
274 
 
 eighteen of our vessels were lost altogether, and it was the mercy 
 of God that we were not among the number.'* 
 
 Well , I suppose you told me that story to prevent my going a 
 voyage?" 
 
 **Not a bit, Jacob; if it should chance that you find it your 
 interest to go to the North Pole , or any where else , I would say go, 
 by all me-ans ; let neither difficulty nor danger deter you ; but do 
 not go merely from curiosity , that I consider foolish. It 's all very 
 well for those who come back, to have the satisfaction to talk of 
 such things, and it is but fair that they should have it; but when 
 you consider how many there are who never come back at all , why 
 then it's very foolish to push yourself into needless danger and pri- 
 vation. You are amused with my recollections of arctic voyages; 
 but just call to mind how many years of hardship ,'of danger , cold, 
 and starvation, I have undergone to collect all these anecdotes , and 
 then judge whether it be worth any man's while to go for the sake 
 of mere curiosity." 
 
 I then amused Mr. Turnbull with the description of the pic- 
 nic party, which lasted until we had pulled far beyond Kew Bridge. 
 We thrust the bow of the wherry into a bunch of sedges , and then 
 we sat down to our meal, surrounded by hundreds of blue dragon- 
 flies , that flitted about as if to inquire what we meant by intruding 
 upon their domiciles. We continued there chatting and amusing 
 ourselves till it was late , and then shoved off and pulled down with 
 the stream. The sun had set , and we had yet six or seven miles to 
 return to Mr. TurnbuU's house , when we perceived a slight , hand- 
 some young man , in a small skifT, who pulled towards us. 
 
 *'I say, my lads ," said he, taking us both for watermen, *'have 
 you a mind to earn a couple of guineas , with very little trouble?" 
 
 yes," replied Mr. Turnbull, **if you can show us how. 
 A fine chance for you , Jacob ," continued he , aside. 
 
 ** Well , then , I shall want your services, perhaps, for not more 
 ^ than an hour, it may be a little longer, as there is a lady in ques- 
 tion , and we may have to wait. All I ask is , that you pull well and 
 do your best. Are you agreed ? " 
 
 We consented ; and he requested us to follow him , and then 
 pulled for the shore. 
 
275 
 
 **This is to be an adventure , Sir," said I. 
 
 "So it seems/' replied Mr. TurnbuU; "all the better. I 'm 
 old now, but I *m fond of a spree." 
 
 The gentleman pulled into a little boat-house by the river's 
 side , belonging to one of the villas on the bank, made fast his boat, 
 and then stepped into ours. 
 
 "Now, we *ve plenty of time; just pull quietly for the present.*' 
 We continued down the river, and after we had passed Kew 
 Bridge, he directed us in-shore , on the right side, till we came to a 
 garden sweeping down to the river from a cottage orn^e, of large 
 dimensions , about fifty yards from the bank. The water was up to 
 to the brick wall , which rose from the river about four or five feet. 
 "That will do, st — , st — ,not a word ," said he, rising in the stern 
 sheets , and looking over. After a minute or two reconnoitring , he 
 climbed from the boat on to the parapet of the wall , and whistled 
 two bars of an air which I had till then never heard. All was silent. 
 He crouched behind a lilac bush , and in a minute he repeated the 
 same air in a whistle as before ; still there was no appearance of 
 movement at the cottage. He continued at intervals to whistle the 
 portion of the air, and at last a light appeared at an upper window : 
 it was removed, .and re-appeared three times, "Be ready now, 
 my lads said he. In about two minutes afterwards, a female , in 
 a cloak , appeared , coming down the lawn , with a box in her hand, 
 panting with excitement. 
 
 "Oh! William, I heard your first signal, but I could not get 
 into my uncle's room for the box; at last he went out, and here 
 it is." 
 
 The gentleman seized the box from her, and handed it to us in 
 the boat. 
 
 " Take great care of that , my lads ," said he ; "and now, Ceci- 
 lia, we have no time to lose; the sooner you are in the boat , the 
 better." 
 
 "How am I to get down there , William?" replied she. 
 
 " 0, nothing more easy. Stop , throw your cloak into the boat, 
 and then all you have to do is , first to get upon the top of the wall, 
 and then trust to the watermen below and to me above for help- 
 ing you." , 
 
 18* 
 
276 
 
 It was not, however, quite so easy a matter; the wall was four 
 feet high above the boat, and, moreover, there was a trellised work 
 of iron, about a foot high, which ran along the wall. Still she made 
 every effort on her own part , and we considered that we had ar- 
 ranged so as to conquer the difficulty, when the young lady gave a 
 scream. We looked up and beheld a third party on the wall. It 
 was a stout, tall, elderly man, as far as we could perceive in the 
 dark , who immediately seized hold of the lady by the arm , and was 
 dragging her away. This was resisted by the young gentleman, 
 and the lady was relinquished by the other, to defend himself; at 
 the same time that he called out , — 
 
 '^Help, help! Thieves, thieves!" 
 
 "Shall I go to his assistance?" said I , to Mr. Turnbull , **one 
 must stay in the boat." 
 
 Jump up then , Jacob , for I never could get up that wall.'* 
 
 I was up in a moment, and gaining my feet, was about to 
 spring to the help of the young man, when four servants with lights 
 and with arms in their hands , made their appearance , hastening 
 down the lawn. The lady had fainted on the grass; the elderly 
 gentleman and his antagonist were down together, but the elderly 
 gentleman had the mastery, for he was uppermost. Perceiving the 
 assistance coming, he called out, *' Look to the watermen , secure 
 them." I perceived that not a moment was to be lost. I could be 
 of no service , and Mr. Turnbull might be in an awkward scrape, 
 I sprang into the boat*, shoved off, and we were in the stream and 
 at thirty yards distance before they looked over the wall 16 see 
 where we were. 
 
 Stop in that boat! stop!" they cried. 
 
 "Fire, if they don't," cried their master. 
 
 We pulled as hard as we could. A musquetoon was dis- 
 charged , but the shot dropped short; the only person who fell was 
 the man who fired it. To see us he had stood upon the coping 
 bricks of the wall, and the recoil tumbled him over into the river: 
 we saw him fall, and heard the splash ; but we pulled on as hard as 
 we could, and in a few minutes the scene of action was far behind 
 us. We then struck across to the other side of the river, and when 
 we had gained close to the shore ,*we took breath. 
 
277 
 
 Well," said Mr. Turnbull, this is a spree I little looked for; 
 to have a blunderbuss full of shot sent after me." 
 
 *'No," replied I, laughing, *'lhat 's carrying the joke rather too 
 far on the river Thames." 
 
 *'Well, but what a pretty mess we are in: here we have 
 property belonging to God knows whom ; and what are we to do 
 with it?" 
 
 ''I think, Sir, the best thing we can do is, for you to land at 
 your own house with the property , and take c^e of it until we find 
 out what all this is about ; and I will continue on with the sculls to 
 the hard. We shall hear or find out something about it in a day or 
 two ; they may still follow up the pursuit and trace us." 
 
 ** The advice is good," replied Mr. Turnbull , and the sooner 
 we cut over again the better, for we are nearly abreast of my 
 place." 
 
 We did so; Mr. Turnbull landed in his garden, taking with 
 him the tin-box (it was what they call a deed-box) , and the lady's 
 cloak. I did not wait, but boating the oars, took my scuUs and 
 pulled down to Fulham as fast as I could. I had arrived , and was 
 pulling gently in , not to injure the other boats , when a man with a 
 lantern came into the wherry. 
 
 ** Have you any thing in your boat, my man?" said he. 
 
 ** Nothing, Sir," replied I. The man examined the boat, 
 and was satisfied. 
 
 **Tell me , did you see a boat with two men in it as you came 
 along?" 
 
 '*No, Sir," replied I, ** nothing has passed me." 
 
 Where do you come from now?" 
 
 From a gentleman's place near Brentford." 
 ** Brentford; 0 then you were far below them. They are not 
 down yet." 
 
 ** Have you a job for me, Sir?" saidi, notwishing to appear 
 anxious to go away. 
 
 **No, my man, no; nothing to-night. We are on the look- 
 out, but we have two boats in the stream, and a man at each 
 landing-place." 
 
 I made fast my boat, shouldered my oars and sculls , and dc- 
 
278 
 
 parted, not at all sorry to. get away. It appeared that as soon as 
 it was ascertained that we were not to be stopped by being fired at, 
 they saddled horses , and the distance by the road heing so much 
 shorter, had, by galloping as hard as they could, arrived at 
 Fulham some ten minutes before me. It was, therefore, most 
 fortunate that the box had been landed , or I should have been dis- 
 covered. That the contents were of value was evident, from the 
 anxiety to secure them; but the mystery was still to be solved. I 
 was quite tired wit^exertion and excitement when I arrived at Sta- 
 pleton's. Mary was there to give me my supper, which I ate in 
 silence , complained of a headache , and went to bed. 
 
 CHAPTER nr. 
 
 The waterman turns water-knight. — I become chivalrous, see a beauti- 
 ful face, and go with the stream. — The adventure seems to promise 
 more law than love, there being papers in the case, that is, in a 
 tin-box. 
 
 That night I dreamed of nothing but the scene , over and over 
 again , and the two bars of music were constantly ringing in my 
 ears. As soon as I had breakfasted the next morning, 1 set off to 
 Mr. TurnbuH's , and told him what had occurred. 
 
 "It was indeed fortunate that the box was landed," said he/ 
 ** or you might have now been in prison. I wish I had had nothing 
 to do with it; but, as you say, * what's done can't be helped.* 
 I will not give up the box , at all events , until I know which party 
 is entitled to it, and I cannot help thinking that the lady is. But, 
 Jacob, you will have to reconnoitre, and find out what this story 
 is. Tell me, do you think you could remember the tune which 
 he whistled so often?" 
 
 "It has been running in my head the whole night , andl have 
 been trying it all the way as I pulled here. I think I have it exact. 
 Hear, Sir,'* I whistled the two bars. 
 
 "Quite correct, Jacob, quite correct; weU take care not to 
 forget them. Where are you going to-day?" 
 
 "Nowhere, Sir." 
 
279 
 
 ** Suppose, then, you pull up the river, and find out the 
 place where we landed, and when you have ascertained that, you 
 can go on and see whether the young man is with the skiff; at all 
 events , you may find out something — but pray be cautious.'* 
 
 I promised to be very careful , and departed on my errand, 
 which I undertook with much pleasure, for I was delighted with 
 anything like adventure. I pulled up the river, and, in about 
 an hour and a quarter, came abreast of the spot. I recognised 
 the cottage o r n e e , the parapet wall , even the spot where we lay , 
 and perceived that several bricks were detached and had fallen 
 into the river. There appeared to be no one stirring in the house, 
 yetlcontinued to pull up and down, looking at the windows : at last 
 one opened, and a young lady looked out, who, I was persuaded, 
 was the same that we had seen the night before. There was no 
 wind , and all was quiet around. She sat at the window , leaning 
 her head on her hand. I whistled the two bars of the air. At the 
 first bar she started up, and looked earnestly at me as I completed 
 the second. I looked up, she waved her handkerchief once, and 
 then shut the window. In a few seconds she made her appearance 
 on the lawn, walking down towards the river. I immediately 
 pulled in under the wall. I laid in my sculls, and held on, 
 stahdiog up in the boat. 
 
 "Who are you? and who sent you?" said she, looking down 
 on me , and discovering one of the most beautiful faces I had ever 
 beheld. 
 
 " No one sent me, ma'am," replied I, *'butl was in the boat 
 last night. I am sorry you were so unfortunate , but your box and 
 cloak are quite safe." 
 
 *' You were one of the men in the boat. I trust no one was 
 nurt when they fired at you? " 
 '*No, ma'am." 
 And where is the box ? " 
 In the house of the person who was with me." , 
 Can he be trusted? for they will offer large rewards for it." 
 '*I should think so, ma'am," replied I, smiling; "the 
 person who was with me is a gentleman of large fortune , who 
 was amusing himself on the river. He desires me to say that he 
 
280 
 
 will not give up the box until he knows to whom the contents 
 legally belong." 
 
 ** Good heavens , how fortunate ! Am I to believe you? " 
 I should hope so, ma'am." 
 
 * ' And what are you , then ? You are not a waterman ? " 
 
 ** Yes, ma'am, I am." 
 
 She paused, looked earnestly at me for a little while, and then 
 continued , ** How did you learn the air you whistled?" 
 
 ** The young gentleman whistled it six or seven times last night 
 before you came. I tried it this morning coming up , as I thought 
 it would be the means of attracting your attention. Can I be of 
 any service to you, ma'am?" 
 
 Service — yes , if I could be sure you were to be trusted — 
 of the greatest service. I am confined here — cannot send a letter 
 — watched as I move — only allowed the garden, and even watched 
 while I walk here. They are most of them in quest of the tin-box 
 to~day, or I should not be able to talk to you so long." She looked 
 round at the house anxiously, and then said, **Stop here a mi- 
 nute, while I walk a little." She then retreated , and paced up 
 and down the garden walk. I still remamed under the wall , so as 
 not to be perceived from the house. In about three or four minutes 
 she returned and said, '*It would be very cruel — it would be 
 more than cruel — it would be very wicked of you to deceive me, 
 lor I am very unfortunate and very unhappy." The tears started 
 in her eyes. You do not look as if you would. What is your 
 name?" 
 
 Jacob Faithful, ma'am, and I will be true to my name, if 
 you will put your trust in me. I never deceived any one that I can 
 recollect ; and I 'm sure I would "not you — now that I 've seen 
 you." 
 
 ** Yes , but money will seduce every body." 
 
 **Notme, ma'am; I 've as much as I wish for." 
 
 **Well, then, I will trust you, and think you sent from 
 Heaven to my aid : but how am I to see you? To-morrow my uncle 
 will be back , and then I shall not be able to speak to you one mo- 
 ment , and if seen to speak to you , you will be laid in wait for, 
 and perhaps shot." 
 
281 
 
 **Well, ma'am," replied I, after a pause, **if you cannot 
 speak , you can write. You see that the bricks on the parapet are 
 loose here. Put your letter under this brick — I can tak»e it away 
 even in day-time, without being noticed, and can put the answer 
 in the same place, so that you can secure it when you come out." 
 
 **How very clever! Good heavens, what an excellent idea!" 
 
 **Was the young gentleman hurt , ma'am, in the scuffle last 
 night?" inquired I. 
 
 No I believe not much , but I wish to know where he is , to 
 write to him ; could you find out?" I told her where we had met 
 him, and what had passed. That was Lady Auburn's ," replied 
 she; *'he is often there — she is our cousin; but I don't know 
 where he lives , and how to find him I know not. His name is 
 William Wharncliffe. Do you think you could find him out? " 
 
 '*Yes, ma'am, with a little trouble it might be done. They 
 ought to know where he is at Lady Auburn's." 
 
 Yes , some of the servants might — but how will you get to 
 them?" 
 
 '*That, ma'am, I must find out. It may not be done in one 
 day, or two days, but if you will look every morning under this 
 brick , if there is any thing to communicate you will find it there." 
 You can write and read then ? " 
 I should hope so, ma'am," replied I, laughing. 
 *' I don't know what to make of you. Are you really a water- 
 man?" 
 
 ' ' Really , and — " She turned her head round at the noise of a 
 window opening. 
 
 *'You must go — don't forget the brick;" and she disap- 
 peared. 
 
 I shoved my wherry along by the side of the wall , so as to re- 
 main unperceived until I was clear of the frontage attached to the 
 cottage ; and then, taking my sculls, pulled into the stream ; and 
 as I was resolved to see if I could obtain any information at Lady 
 Auburn's , I had to pass the garden again, having shoved my boat 
 down the river instead of up , when I was under the wall. I per- 
 ceived the young lady walking with a tall man by her side : he 
 speaking very energetically, and using much gesticulation, she 
 
282 
 
 holding down her head. In another minute they were shut out 
 from my sight. I was so much stricken with the beauty and sweet- 
 ness of expression in the young lady's countenance, that I was re- 
 solved to use my best exertions to be of service to her. In about 
 an hour and a half, I had arrived at the villa , abreast of which we 
 had met the young gentleman , and which the young lady had told 
 me belonged to Lady Auburn. I could see no one in the grounds, 
 nor indeed in the house. After watching a few minutes , Handed 
 as near to the villa as I could , made fast the wherry , and walked 
 round to the entrance. There was no lodge , but a servant's door 
 at one side. I pulled the bell, having made up my mind how to 
 proceed as I was walking up. The bell was answered by an oid 
 woman, who, in a snarling tone , asked me "what didlwant?" 
 
 I am waiting below, with my boat, for Mr. WharnclilTe ; has 
 he come yet?'* 
 
 **Mr. Wharncliffe ! No — he 's not come; nor did he say that 
 he would come ; when did you see him ? " 
 
 ''Yesterday. Is Lady Auburn at home?'* 
 
 "Lady Auburn — no; she went to town this morning; every 
 body goes to London now, that they may not see the flowers and 
 green trees , I suppose." 
 
 " But I suppose Mr. Wharncliffe will come," continued I, ** so 
 I must wait for him." 
 
 "You can do just as you like ," replied the old woman , about 
 to shut the gate in my face. 
 
 "May I request a favour of you , ma'am , before you shut the 
 gate — which is , to bring me a little water to drink , for the sun is 
 hot, and I have had a long pull up here ; " and I took out my hand- 
 kerchief and wiped my face. 
 
 "Yes, I '11 fetch you some,'* replied she, shutting the gate, and 
 going away. 
 
 "This don't seem to answer very well," thought I to myself. 
 The old woman returned , opened the gate, and handed me a mug 
 of water. I drank some, thanked her, and returned the mug. 
 
 "I am very tired," said I, "I should like to sit down and wait 
 for the gentleman." 
 
283 
 
 Don't you sit down when you pull?" inquired the old 
 woman. 
 
 '*Yes," replied I. 
 
 **Then you must be tired of sitting, I should think, not of 
 standing; at all events,, if you want to sit, you can sit in your 
 boat , and mind it at the same time." With this observation she 
 shut the door upon me , and left me without any more comment. 
 
 After this decided repulse on the part of the old woman I had 
 nothing to do but to take her advice , viz. to go and look after ray 
 boat. I pulled down to Mr. Turnbull's, and told him my good and 
 bad fortune. It being late he ordered me some dinner in his study, 
 and we sat there canvassing over the affair. Well said he, as 
 we finished, **you must allow me to consider this as my affair, 
 Jacob , as I was the occasion of our getting mixed up in it. You 
 must do all that you can to find this young man , and I shall hiro 
 Stapleton's boat by the day until we succeed ; you need not tell him 
 so , or he may be anxious to know why. To-morrow you go down 
 to old Beazeley's?" 
 
 *' Yes . Sir ; you cannot hire me to-morrow." 
 
 *•* Still I shall , as I want to see you to-morrow morning beforo 
 you go. Here *s Stapleton's money for yesterday and to-day , and 
 now good night." 
 
 I was at Mr. Turnbull's early the next morning, and found him 
 with the newspaper before him. I expected this , Jacob said 
 he : " read that advertisement." I read as follows : — "Whereas, 
 on Friday night last, between the hours of nine and ten, a tin-box, 
 containing deeds and papers , was handed into a wherry, from the 
 grounds of a villa between Brentford and Kew, and the parties who 
 owned it were prevented from accompanying the same. This is to 
 give notice , that a reward of twenty pounds will be paid to the 
 watermen, upon their delivering up the same to Messrs. James and 
 John White, of No. 14. Lincoln's Inn Fields. As no other parties 
 are authorised to receive the said tin-box of papers, all other appli- 
 cations for it must be disregarded. An early attention to this ad- 
 vertisement will oblige." 
 
 ** There must be papers of no little consequence in that box, 
 Jacob, depend upon it," said Mr. TurnbuU ; however, here they 
 
284 
 
 arc, and here they shall remain until I know more about it, that 's 
 certain. I intend to try what I can do myself with the old woman, 
 for I perceive the villa is to be let for three months — here is the 
 advertisement in the last column. I shall go to town to-day, 
 and obtain a ticket from the agent , and it is hard but I '11 ferret 
 out Something. I shall see you to-morrow. Now you may go, 
 Jacob." 
 
 I hastened away, as I had promised to be down to old Tom's to 
 breakfast: an hour's smart pulling brought me to the landing- 
 place , opposite to his house. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A ten-pounil householder occupied with affairs of state.— The advantage 
 of the word "implication." — An unexpected meeting and a reconcilia- 
 tion. — Resolution versus hright black eyes. — Verdict for the 
 defendant, with heavy damages. 
 
 The house of old Tom Beazeley was situated on the verge of 
 Battersea Fields, about a mile and a half from the bridge bearing 
 the same name ; the river about twenty yards before it — the green 
 grass behind it , and not a tree within half'a mile of it. There was 
 nothing picturesque in it but its utter loneliness ; it was not only 
 lonely but isolated , for it was fixed upon a delta of about half an 
 acre , between two creeks , which joined at about forty yards from 
 the river, and ran up through the fields, so that the house was , at 
 high water , upon an island , and at low water was defended by an 
 impassable barrier of mud , so that the advances to it could be 
 made only from the river , where a small hard, edged with posts 
 worn down to the conformation of decayed double teeth, offered 
 the only means of access. The house itself was one story high; 
 dark red bricks , and darker tiles upon the roof ; windows very 
 scarce, and very small, although built long before the damnable tax 
 upon light, for it was probably built in the time of Elizabeth, to 
 judge by the peculiarity of the style of architecture observable in 
 the chimneys ; but it matters very little at what epoch was built a 
 tenement which was rented at only ten pounds per annum. The 
 major part of Che said island was stocked with cabbage plants ; but 
 
285 
 
 on one side there was half a boat set upright , with a patch of green 
 before it. At the time that oldBeazeley hired it, there was a bridge, 
 rudely constructed of old ship plank , by which you could gain a 
 path which led across the Battersea Fields ; but as all the commu- 
 nications of old Tom were by water , and Mrs. Beazeley never ven- 
 tured over the bridge, it was gradually knocked away for firewood, 
 and when it was low-water, one old post, redolent of mud, marked 
 the spot where the bridge had been. The interior was far more in- 
 viting; Mrs. Beazeley was a clean person and frugal housewife, 
 and every article in the kitchen , which was the first room you 
 entered , was as clean and as bright as industry could make it. 
 There was a parlour also, seldom used ; both of the inmates, when 
 they did meet, which was not above a day or two in three weeks, 
 during the time that old Beazeley was in charge of the lighter, pre- 
 ferring comfort to grandeur. In this isolated house, upon this 
 isolated spot , did Mrs. Beazeley pass a life of almost isolation. 
 
 And yet, perhaps, there never was a more lively or a more 
 happy woman than Mrs. Beazelwy, for she was strong and in good 
 health, and always employed. She knew that her husband was 
 following up his avocation on the river, and laying by a provision 
 for their old age, while she herself was adding considerably to it 
 by her own exertions. She had married old Tom long before he 
 had lost his legs , at a time when he was a prime active sailor , and 
 the best man of the ship. She was a net-maker's daughter, and 
 had been brought up to the business, at which she was very expert. 
 The most difficult part of the art, is that of leaking large seines 
 for taking sea-fish ; and when she had no order for those to com- 
 plete , the making of casting-nets beguiled away her time as soon 
 as her household cares had been disposed of. She made money 
 and husbanded it, not only for herself and her partner, but for her 
 son, young Tom, upon whom she doted. So accustomed was 
 she to work hard and be alone , that it was difficult to say whether 
 she was most pleased or most annoyed when her husband and son 
 made their appearance for a day or two, and the latter was alter- 
 nately fondled and scolded during the whole of his sojourn ; Tom, 
 as the reader may suppose from a knowledge of his character, 
 caring about as much for the one as the other. 
 
286 
 
 I pulled into the hard, and made fast my boat. There was 
 no one outside the door when I landed ; on entering, I found them 
 all seated at the table , and a grand display of fragments , in the 
 shape of herring-bones, Scc, **Well, Jacob — come at last — 
 thought you had forgot us ; piped to breakfast at eight bells — 
 always do, you know," said old Tom, on my making my 
 appearance. 
 
 ''Have you had your breakfast, Jacob?'* said Mrs. Beazeley. 
 
 **No,*' replied I; *'I was obliged to go up to Mr. TurnbuU's, 
 and that detained me." 
 
 *'No more sodgers, Jacob,** said Tom; father and I eat 
 them all." 
 
 **Have you?" replied Mrs. Beazeley, taking two more red 
 herrings out of the cupboard , and putting them on the lire to grill ; 
 **no, no, master Tom, there 's some for Jacob yet." 
 
 Well, mother, you make nets to some purpose , for you 've 
 always a fish when it 's wanted." 
 
 I despatched my breakfast, and as soon as all had been cleared 
 away by his wife , old Tom , crossing his two timber legs , com- 
 menced business , for it appeared , what I was not aware of, that 
 we had met on a sort of council of war. 
 
 Jacob, sit down by me; old woman, bring yourself to an 
 anchor in the high chair ; Tom, sit any where, so you sit still." — 
 •'And leave my net alone , Tom," cried his mother, in parenthe- 
 sis -T- **You see, Jacob, the whole long and short of it is this, 
 I feel my toes more and more, and flannel *s no longer warm. 
 I can *t tide it any longer, and I think it high time to lie up in 
 ordinary and moor abreast of the old woman. Now, there 's Tom, 
 in the first place, what 's to do with he? I think that I '11 build 
 him a wherry, and as I 'm free of the river, he can finish his 
 apprenticeship with liiy name on the boat; but to build him a 
 wherry would be rather a heavy pull for me." 
 
 "If you mean to build it yourself, I think it will prove a 
 heavy pull for me," replied Tom. 
 
 Silence, Tom; I built you, and God knows you 're light 
 enough." 
 
 ''And Tom , leave my net alone ," cried his mother. 
 
287 
 
 ** Father made me light-fingered , mother." 
 
 «* Ay, and light-hearted too, boy," rejoined the dame, looking 
 fondly at her son. 
 
 * * Well continued old Tom, * * supposing that Tom be provi-^ 
 ded for in that way ; then now I comes to myself. I *ve an idea 
 that I can do a good bit of work in patching up boats ; for you see 
 I always was a bit of a carpenter, and I know how the builders 
 extortionate the poor watermen when there 's a trifle amiss. Now, 
 if they knew I could do it, they 'd all come to me fast enough; 
 but then there 's a puzzle; I 've been thinking this week how 
 I can make them know it. I can 't put out a board and say, 
 Beazeley, Boat-builder, because I 'm no boat-builder, but 
 still I want a sign." 
 
 '*Lord, father, havVt you got one already?" interrupted 
 young Tom ; ** you 've half a boat stuck up there , and that means 
 that you 're half a boat builder." 
 
 Silence, Tom, with your frippery ; what do you think, Jacob?" 
 
 ** Could you not say, * Boats repaired here?* " 
 
 ** Yes, but that wo'n't exactly do ; they like to employ a builder 
 — and there 's the puzzle." 
 
 **Not half so puzzling as this net," observed Tom, who had 
 taken up the needle, unobserved by his mother, and begun to work; 
 *'I 've made only ten stitches, and six of them are long ones." 
 
 ** Tom, Tom, you good for nothing — why don *t you let my net 
 alone?" cried Mrs. Beazeley, now *t will take me as much time 
 to undo ten stitches as to have made fifty." 
 
 "All right, mother." 
 
 **No, Tom, airs wrong; look at these meshes?" 
 
 "Well, then, all's fair, mother." 
 
 **No, all's foul, boy; look how it 's tangled." 
 
 "Still, I say, all 's fair, mother, for it is but fair to give the 
 fish one or two chances to get away , and that 's just what I 've 
 done; and now, father, I '11 settle your affair to your own satis- 
 faction , as I have mother's." 
 
 "That will be queer satisfaction, Tom, I guess, but let 's 
 hear what you have to say." 
 
288 
 
 **Why, then, father, it seems, that you 're no boat- 
 builder, but you want people to fancy that you are — a'n't that 
 the question?'* 
 
 ''Why, 't is something like it, Tom — but I do nobody no 
 harm. " 
 
 ''Certainly not; it 's only the boats which will suffer. Now, 
 get a large board, with 'Boats built to order, and boats 
 repaired, by Tom Beazeley.* You know if any man is fool enough 
 to order a boat, that 's his concern , you didn't say you 're a boat- 
 builder , although you have no objection to try your hand." 
 
 "What do you say, Jacob?" said old Tom, appealing 
 to me, 
 
 "I think that Tom has given very good advice, and I would 
 follow it." 
 
 "Ah! Tom has a head said Mrs. Beazeley, fondly. "Tom, 
 let go my net again, will you? what a boy you are! Now touch 
 it again if you dare," and Mrs. Beazeley took up a little poker from 
 the fire-place and shook it at him. 
 
 "Tom has a head, indeed," said young Tom, "but as he 
 has no wish to have it broken, Jacob, lend me your wherry for 
 half an hour , and I '11 be off." 
 
 I assented , and Tom , first tossing the cat upon his mother's 
 back , made his escape , crying , 
 
 "Lord, Molly, what a fish," 
 as the animal fixed in its claws to save herself from falling, making 
 Mrs. Beazeley roar out and vow vengeance, while old Tom and I 
 could not refrain from laughter. 
 
 After Tom's departure , the conversation was renewed , and 
 every thing was finally arranged between old Tom and his wife, 
 except the building of the wherry, at which the old woman shook 
 her head. The debate would be too long, and not sufficiently 
 interesting to detail ; one part, however, I must make the reader 
 acquainted with. After entering into all the arrangements of the 
 house, Mrs. Beazeley took me up stairs to show me the rooms, 
 which were very neat and clean. I came down with her, and old 
 Tom said , "Did the old woman show you the room with the white 
 curtains, Jacob?" 
 
289 
 
 **Yes,*' replied 1, ^'andavery nice oneitis." 
 
 **WelI, Jacob, there's nothing sure in this world. You're well 
 off at present, and * leave well alone' is a good motto ; but recollect 
 this, that room is for you when you want it, and every thing else 
 we can share with you. It 's offered freely , and you will accept it 
 the same. Is it not, old lady?" 
 
 **Yes, that it is, Jacob; but may you do better — if not, I'll 
 be your mother for want of a better." 
 
 I was moved with the kindness of the old couple ; the more so, 
 as I did not know what I had done to deserve it. Old Tom gave 
 me a hearty squeeze of the hand, and then continued ; ** But about 
 this wherry — what do you say , old woman ? " 
 
 "What will it cost? " replied she, gravely. 
 
 '*Cost; let me see, — a good wherry with sculls and oars, will 
 be a matter of thirty pounds." 
 
 The old woman screwed up her mouth, shook her head, and 
 then walked away to prepare for dinner. 
 
 ** I think she could muster the blunt, Jacob, but she don't like 
 to part with it. Tom must coax her. I wish he hadn't shied the 
 cat at her. He 's too full of fun." 
 
 As old Beazeley finished , I perceived a wherry pulling in with 
 some ladies. I looked attentively, and recognised my own boat, 
 and Tom pulling. In a minute more they were at the hard , and 
 who, to my astonishment, were there seated, but Mrs. Drum- 
 mond and Sarah. As Tom got out of the boat and held it steady 
 against the hard, he called to me; I could not do otherwise than 
 go and assist them out; and once more did I touch the hands of 
 those whom I never thought to meet again. Mrs. Drummond 
 retained my hand a short time after she landed , saying , We are 
 friends, Jacob, are we not?" 
 
 '*0, yes, madam," replied I, much moved, in a faltering 
 voice. 
 
 ** I shall not ask that question," said Sarah, gaily, '*for we 
 parted friends." 
 
 And as I recalled to mind her affectionate behaviour, I pressed 
 her hand, and the tears glistened in my eyes as I looked into her 
 sweet face. As I afterwards discovered, this was an arranged plan 
 
 Jacob Faithful, J 9 
 
290 
 
 with old and young Tom , to bring about a meeting without my 
 knowledge. Mrs. Beazeley courtesied and stroked her apron — 
 smiled at the ladies, looked very cat-tish at Tom, showed the 
 ladies into the house , where old Tom assisted to do the honours 
 after his own fashion, by asking Mrs. Drummond if she would like 
 to whet her whistle after her pull. Mrs. Drummond looked 
 round to me for explanation, but young Tom thought proper to be 
 interpreter. Father wants to know, if you please, ma'am, 
 whether, after your pull in the boat, you wouldn't like to have a 
 p u 11 at the brandy bottle ? " 
 
 *'No," replied Mrs. Drummond, smiling; **but I should be 
 obliged for a glass of water. Will you get me one, Jacob ? " 
 
 I hastened to comply, and Mrs. Drummond entered into con- 
 versation with Mrs. Beazeley. Sarah looked at me , and went to 
 the door, turning back as inviting me to follow. I did so , and we 
 soon found ourselves seated on the bench in the old boat. 
 
 * * Jacob," said she, looking earnestly at me , * * you surely will 
 be friends with my father?'* 
 
 I think I should have shaken my head, but she laid an emphasis 
 on my , which the little gipsy knew would have its effect. All my 
 resolutions, all my pride, all my sense of injury vanished before 
 the mild beautiful eyes of Sarah, and I replied hastily, **Yes, 
 Miss Sarah , I can refuse you nothing." 
 
 **Why Miss, Jacob?" 
 
 ** I am a waterman, and you are much above me." 
 
 ** That is your own fault, but say no more about it. ** 
 
 **I must say something more, which is this: do not attempt 
 to make me leave my present employment; I am happy, because 
 I am independent; and that I will , if possible, be for the future." 
 
 **Any one can pull an oar, Jacob." 
 
 **Very true, Miss Sarah, and is under no obligation to any 
 one by so earning his livelihood. He works for all , and is paid 
 for all." 
 
 ♦'Will you come and see us, Jacob? Come to-morrow — now 
 do — promise me. Will you refuse your old playmate, Jacob?" 
 *'I wish you would not ask that." 
 
291 
 
 **How then can you say that you are friends with my father? 
 I will not believe you unless you promise to come." 
 
 "Sarah," replied I, earnestly, ** I will come; and to prove to 
 you that we are friends, I will ask a favour of him. " 
 
 '*0 Jacob, this is kind, indeed," cried Sarah, with her eyes 
 swimming with tears. '* You have made me so — so very happy ! 
 
 The meeting with Sarah humanised me , and every feeling of 
 revenge was chased from my memory. Mrs. Drummond joined us 
 soon after, and proposed to return. *'And Jacob will pull us 
 back," cried Sarah. **Come, Sir, look after your fare, in both 
 senses. Since you will be a waterman, you shall work." I 
 laughed, and handed them to the boat. Tom took the other oar, 
 and we were soon at the steps close to Mr. Drummond's house. 
 
 *' Mamma, we ought to give these poor fellows something to 
 drink, they 've worked very hard," said Sarah, mocking. *'Come 
 up, my good men." I hesitated. "Nay, Jacob, if to-morrow, 
 why not to-day? the sooner these things are over the better." 
 
 I felt the truth of this observation , and followed her. In a few 
 minutes I was again in that parlour in which I had been dismissed, 
 and in which the affectionate girl burst into tears on my shoulder, 
 as I held the handle of the door. I looked at it , and looked at Sa- 
 rah. Mrs. Drummond had gone out of the room to let jlr. Drum- 
 mond know that I had come. '*How kind you were, Sarah I" 
 8aid I. 
 
 Yes , but kind people are cross sometimes , and so am I — 
 and so was — " 
 
 Mr. Drummond came in, and stopped her. *' Jacob, I am 
 glad to see you again in my house ; I was deceived by appearances, 
 and did you injustice." How true is the observation of the wise 
 man, that a soft word turneth away wrath; that Mr. Drummond 
 should personally acknowledge that he was wrong to me — that he 
 should confess it — every feeling of resentment was gone, and 
 others crowded in their place. I recollected how he had protected 
 the orphan — how he had provided him with instruction — how 
 he had made his house a home to me — how he had tried to bring 
 rae forward under his own protection. I recollected — which, 
 alas ! I never should have forgotten — that he had treated me for 
 
 19* 
 
292 
 
 years with kindness and affection, all of which had been obliterated 
 from my memory by one single act of injustice. I felt that I was a 
 culprit, and burst into tears; and Sarah, as before, cried in 
 sympathy. 
 
 beg your pardon, Mr. Drummond," said I, as soon as I 
 could speak ; * * I have been very wrong in being so revengeful after 
 so much kindness from you." 
 
 *' We both have been wrong — but say no more on the subject, 
 Jacob ; I have an order to give , and then I will come up to you 
 again ; '* and Mr. Drummond quitted the room. 
 
 "You dear good boy," said Sarah, coming up to me, "Now 
 I really do love you." 
 
 What I might have replied was put a stop to, by Mrs. Drum- 
 mond entering the room. She made a few inquiries about where I 
 at present resided , and Sarah was catechising me rather inquisi- 
 tively about Mary Stapleton, when Mr. Drummond re-entered the 
 room, and shook me by the hand with a warmth which made me 
 more ashamed of my conduct towards him. The conversation 
 became general, but still rather embarrassed, when Sarah whispered 
 to me, — "What is the favour you would ask of my father?" I 
 had forgotten it at the moment, but I immediately told him that I 
 would be obliged if he would allow me to have a part of the money 
 belonging to me, which he held in his possession. 
 
 "That I will , with pleasure , and without asking what you in- 
 tend to do with it, Jacob. How much do you require?" 
 
 * ' Thirty pounds , if there is so much." 
 
 Mr. Drummond went down , and in a few minutes returned 
 with the sum, in notes and guineas. I thanked him, and shortly 
 afterwards took my leave. 
 
 "Did not young Beazeley tell you I had something for you, 
 Jacob?" said Sarah, as I wished her good-by. 
 
 "Yes; what is it?" 
 
 "You must come and ses," replied Sarah, laughing. Thus 
 was a finale to all my revenge brought about by a little girl of fifteen 
 years old , with large dark eyes. 
 
 Tom had taken his glass of grog below, and was waiting for 
 me at the steps. We shoved off, and retupned to his father's 
 
293 
 
 house , where dinner was just ready. After dinner old Tom re- 
 commenced the argument. *' The only hitch /' says he , **is about 
 the wherry. What do you say, old woman?" The old woman 
 shook her head. 
 
 "As that is the only hitch," said I, **I can remove it, for 
 here is the money for the wherry, which I make a present to Tom," 
 and I put the money into young Tom's hand. Tom counted it out 
 before his father and mother, much to their astonishment. 
 
 "You are a good fellow, Jacob," said Tom; ♦'but I say, do you 
 recollect Wimbledon Common?" 
 
 "What then?" replied I. 
 
 "Only Jerry Abershaw, that 'sail." 
 
 "Do not be afraid , Tom , it is honestly mine." 
 
 "But how did you get it, Jacob," said old Tom, 
 
 It may appear strange , but impelled by a wish to serve my 
 friends, I had asked for the money which I knew belonged to me, 
 but never thought of the manner in which it had been obtained. 
 The question of old Tom recalled every thing to my memory, and I 
 shuddered when I recollected the circumstances attending it. I 
 was confused and did not like to reply. * * Be satisfied , the money 
 is mine," replied I. 
 
 "Yes, Jacob, but how?" replied Mrs. Beazeley; "surely 
 you ought to be able to tell how you got so large a sum." 
 
 " Jacob has some reason for not telling , missus , depend upon 
 it ; mayhap Mr. Turnbull , or whoever gave it to him , told him to 
 hold his tongue." But this answer would ifbt satisfy Mrs. Beazely, 
 who declared she would not allow a farthing to be taken , unless 
 she knew how it was obtained. 
 
 "Tom, give back the money directly," said she, looking at 
 me suspiciously. 
 
 Tom laid it on the table before me without saying a word. 
 "Take it, Tom," said I, colouring up. "I had it from my 
 mother." ^ 
 
 "From your mother, Jacob!" said old Tom. "Nay, that 
 could not well be, if my memory sarves me right. Still it may be." 
 
 "Deary me, I don't like this at all," cried Mrs. Beazeley, 
 
294 
 
 getting up , and wiping her apron with a quick niction. Jacob, 
 that must be — not the truth." 
 
 I coloured up to the tips of my ears , at being suspected of 
 falsehood. I looked round , and saw that even Tom and his father 
 had a melancholy doubt in their countenances ; and certainly my 
 confused appearance would have caused suspicion in any body. 
 **I little thought," said I, at last, **when I hoped to have so 
 much pleasure in giving, and to find that I had made you happy in 
 receiving the money , that it would have proved a source of so much 
 annoyance. I perceive that I am suspected of having obtained it 
 improperly, and of not having told the truth. That Mrs. Beazeley 
 may think so, who does not know me, is not to be wondered at; 
 butthatyou," continued I, turning to old Tom, *'oryou," look- 
 ingathisson, *' should suspect me, is very mortifying; andldid 
 not expect it. I tell you that the money is mine , honestly mine, 
 and obtained from my mother. I ask you, do you believe me?" 
 
 I , for one , do believe you , Jacob," said young Tom, striking 
 his fist on the table. *'I can't understand it, but I know you 
 never told a lie , or did a dishonourable act , since I ' ve known 
 you." 
 
 **Thankyoii, Tom," saidi, taking his proffered hand. 
 And I would swear the same, Jacob," said old Tom; al- 
 though I have been longer in the world than my boy has , and have 
 therefore seen more; and sorry am I to say, many a good man 
 turned bad , from temptation being too great ; but when I looked 
 in your face, and saw the blood up to your forehead , I did feel a 
 little suspicious , I must own ; but I beg your pardon , Jacob , no 
 one can look in your face now, and not see that you are innocent. I 
 believe all you say , in spite of the old woman and -— the devil to 
 boot — and there's my hand upon it." 
 
 '*Why not tell — why not tell?" muttered Mrs. Beazeley, 
 shaking her head , and working at her net faster than ever. 
 
 But I had resolved to tell , and did so , narrating distinctly the 
 circumstances by which the money had been obtained. I did it, 
 however, with feelings of mortification which I cannot express. 
 I felt humiliation — I felt that, for my own wants, that money X 
 \ieYer could touch. Still my explanation had the effect of removing 
 
295 
 
 the doubts even of Mrs. Beazeley , and harmony was restored. 
 The money was accepted by the old couple , and promised to be 
 applied for the purpose intended. 
 
 '*Asforme, Jacob," said Tom, ** when I say I thank you, 
 you know I mean it. Had I had the money , and you had wanted 
 it, you will believe me when I say that I would have given it to 
 you." 
 
 That I'm sure of, Tom." 
 
 Still , Jacob , it is a great deal of money; and I shall lie by 
 my earnings as fast as I can , that you may have it in case you want 
 it; but it will take many a heavy pull and many a shirt wet with 
 labour, before I can make up a sum like that." 
 
 I did not stay much longer after this little fracas ; I was hurt 
 — my pride was wounded by suspicion , and fortunate it was that 
 the occurrence had not taken place previous to my meeting with 
 Mrs. Drummond and Sarah, otherwise no reconciliation would 
 have taken place in that quarter. How much are we the sport of 
 circumstances, and how insensibly they mark out our career in this 
 world ! With the best intentions we go wrong; instigated by un- 
 worthy motives , we fall upon our feet , and the chapter of accidents 
 has more power over the best regulated mind, than all the chapters 
 in the Bible. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 How I was revenged npon my enemies. — AVe try the bars of masic, hut 
 find that we are barred out. — Being no go, we go back. 
 
 I SHOOK hands with Tom, who perceiving that I was vexed, 
 had accompanied me down to the boat , with his usual sympathy, 
 and had offered to pull with me to Fulham , and walk back ; which 
 offer I declined , as I wished to be alone. It was a fine moonlight 
 night, and the broad light and shadow, with the stillness of all 
 around , were peculiarly adapted to my feelings. I continued my 
 way up the river , revolving in my mind the scenes of the day: the 
 reconciliation with one whom I never intended to have spoken to 
 again; the little quarrel with those whom I never expected to have 
 been at variance with , and that at the time when I was only ex- 
 
296 
 
 erting myself to serve them: and then I thought of Sarah, as an 
 oasis of real happiness in this contemplated desert, and dwelt 
 upon the thought of her as the most pleasant and calming to my 
 still agitated mind. Thus did I ruminate till I had passed Putney 
 Bridge , forgetting that I was close to my landing-place , and con^- 
 tinuing in my reverie to pull up the river, when my cogitations 
 were disturbed by a noise of men laughing and talking, apparently 
 in a state of intoxication. They were in a four-oared wherry, 
 coming down the river, after a party of pleasure , as it is termed, 
 generally one ending in intoxication. I listened. 
 
 **I tell you I can spin an oar with any man in the king's 
 service," said the man in the bow. **Nowlook." 
 
 He threw his oar out of the rollocks , spun it in the air , but 
 unfortunately did not catch it when it fell, and consequently it 
 went through the bottom ^ starting two of the planks of the fragile- 
 built boat , which immediately filled with water. 
 
 **Hilloa! waterman!" cried another, perceiving me, *'quick, 
 or we shall sink." But the boat was nearly up to the thwarts in 
 water, before I could reach her, and just as I was nearly alongside, 
 she filled and turned over. 
 
 * ' Help , waterman ; help me first , I *m senior clerk cried a 
 voice which I well knew. I put out my oar to him as h^ struggled 
 in the water, and soon had him clinging to the wherry. I then 
 tried to catch hold of the man who had sunk the boat by his attempt 
 to toss the oar , but he very quietly said , ''No, d — nit, there's 
 too many; we shall swamp the wherry; I'll swim on shore," — 
 and suiting the action to the word, he made for the shore with per- 
 fect self-possession , swimming in his clothes with great ease and 
 dexterity. 
 
 I picked up two more, and thought that all were saved, when 
 turning round and looking towards the bridge, I saw rcsplendant 
 in the bright beams of the moon, and *' round as its orb," the well- 
 remembered face of the stupid young clerk who had been so ini- 
 mical to me, struggling with all his might. I pulled to him, and 
 putting out my oar over the bow, he seized it after rising from his 
 first sink , and was, with the other four, soon clinging to the side of 
 the wherry. 
 
297 
 
 **Pull me in — pull me in , waterman ! " cried the head clerk, 
 whose voice I had recognised. 
 
 ** No , you will swamp the boat." 
 
 "Well, but pull me in, if not the others. I *m the senior 
 clerk." 
 
 **Can*t help that, you must hold on," replied I, **whileIpuU 
 you on shore; we shall soon be there." I must say that I felt a 
 pleasure in allowing him thus to hang in the water. I might have 
 taken them all in certainly, although at some risk , fr^m their want 
 of presence of mind and hurry, arising from the feeling of self- 
 preservation ; but I desired them to hold on , and pulled for the 
 landing-place , which we soon gained. The person who had pre- 
 ferred swimming, had arrived before us, and was waiting on the 
 beach. 
 
 '*Have you got them all , waterman i " said he. 
 *'Yes, Sir, I believe so; I have four." 
 
 **The tally is right," replied he, *'and four greater galloots 
 were never picked up ; but never mind that. It was my nonsense 
 that nearly drowned them ; and therefore I *m very glad you *ve 
 managed so well. My jacket went down in the boat, and I must 
 reward you another time." 
 
 *' Thank you, Sir, no occasion for that, it 's not a regular fare," 
 
 ** Nevertheless , give us your name." 
 
 ** Oh , you may ask Mr. Hodgson , the senior clerk, or that full- 
 moon-faced fellow — they know my name." 
 
 Waterman, what do you mean?" replied Mr, Hodgson, 
 shivering with cold. 
 
 Very impudent fellow," said the junior, of^the round face. 
 
 ** If they know your name, they won't tell it," replied the other. 
 *'Now I '11 tirst tell you mine , which is Lieutenant Wilson, of the 
 navy ; and now let 's have yours , that I may ask for it; and tell me 
 what stairs you ply from." 
 
 **My name is Jacob Faithful , Sir," replied I; **and you may 
 ask your friends whether they know it or not when their teeth don't 
 chatter quite so much." 
 
 At the mention of my name the senior and junior clerk walked 
 olT, and the lieutenant, telling me that I should hear from him 
 
298 
 
 again , was about to leave. **If you mean to give me money, Sir, 
 I tell you candidly I shall not take it. I hate these two men for the 
 injuries they have heaped on me; but I don 't know how it is, I 
 feel a degree of pleasure in having saved them , that I wish for no 
 better revenge. So farewell , Sir." 
 
 ''Spoken as you ought, my lad — that 's glorious revenge. 
 Well, then, I will not come; but if ever we meet again, I shall 
 never forget this night and Jacob Faithful." He held out his hand, 
 shook mine warmly, and walked away. 
 
 When they were gone , I remained for some little time quite 
 stupified at the events of the day. The reconciliation — the 
 quarrel — the revenge, I was still in thought when I heard the 
 sound of a horse's hoofs. This recalled me , and I w^as hauling up 
 my boat, intending to go home to Stapleton's; but with no great 
 eagerness. I felt a sort of dislike to Mary Stapleton , which I could 
 not account for; but the fact was, I had been in company with 
 Sarah Drummond. The horse stopped at the foot of the bridge; 
 and the rider giving it to his servant, who was mounted on another, 
 to hold , came down to where I was hauling up my boat. ** My lad, 
 is it too late for you to launch your boat? I will pay you well." 
 
 *' Where do you wish to go to , Sir? It is now past ten o'clock." 
 
 *'I know it is , and I hardly expected to find a waterman here; 
 but I took the chance. Will you take me about two miles up the 
 river?" 
 
 I looked at the person who addressed me , and was delighted to 
 recognise in him the young man who had hired Mr. Turnbull and 
 me to take him to the garden , and who had been captured when he 
 escaped with the tin-box; but I did not make myself known. 
 '*Well, Sir, ifyouwishit, I 've no objection ," replied I, putting 
 my shoulder to the bow of my wherry, and launching her again into 
 the water. At all events, this has been a day of adventure, thoughtl, 
 as I threw my sculls again into the water, and commenced pulling up 
 the stream. I w as some little while in meditation whether I should 
 make myself known to the young man ; but I decided that I would 
 not. Let me see, thought I , what sort of a person this is ; whether 
 he is as deserving as the young lady appeared to consider. ''Which 
 side, Si/?" inquired!. 
 
299 
 
 **The left was the reply. 
 
 I knew that well enough , and I pulled in silence until nearly up 
 to the wall of the garden which ran down to the bank of tiie river. 
 "Now pull in to that wall, and make no noise," was the injunction, 
 which I obeyed ; securing the boat to the very part where the coping 
 bricks had been displaced. He stood up, and whistled the two 
 bars of the tune as before , waited five minutes, repeated it, and 
 watched the windows of the house; but there was no reply, or 
 signs of any body being up or stirring. ** It is too late , she is gone 
 to rest." 
 
 '* I thought there was a lady in the case, Sir ," obser^'ed I. "If 
 you wish to communicate with her , I think I could manage it.*' 
 
 "Could you?" replied he. "Stop a moment, I 'II speak to 
 you by and by." He whistled the tune once more , and after wait- 
 ing another ten minutes, dropped himself down on the stern 
 sheets, and told me to pull back again. After a minute's silence 
 he said to me, " You think you could communicate with her, you 
 say. Pray, how do you propose?" 
 
 "If you will write a letter, Sir, I '11 try to let it come to her 
 hand?" 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " That, Sir, you must leave me to find out , and trust to oppor- 
 tunity ; but you must tell me what sort of person she is , that I may 
 not give it to another; and also, who there is in the house that I 
 must be careful does not see me." 
 
 "Very true," replied he. "I can only say, that if you do 
 succeed, I will reward you handsomely; but she is so strictl^ 
 watched, that I am afraid it will be impossible; however, a 
 despairing, like a drowning man, will catch at a straw, and I will 
 see whether you will be able to assist me." 
 
 He then informed me , that there was no one in the house ex- 
 cept her uncle and his servants , all of whom were spies upon her ; 
 that my only chance was watching if she were permitted to walk in 
 the garden alone , which might be the case : and perhaps by con- 
 cealing myself from eight o'clock in the morning till the evening, 
 under the parapet wall , I might find an opportunity. Ho directed 
 me to be at the foot of the bridge next morning at seven o'clock. 
 
300 
 
 when he would come with a letter written for nie to deliver, if 
 possible. We had then arrived at Fulham ; he landed , and , put- 
 ting a guinea in my hand, mounted his horse, wliichhis servant 
 walked up and down , waiting for him, and rode off. I hauled up 
 my boat , aud went home, tired with the manifold events of the day. 
 Mary Stapleton , who had sat up for me , was very inquisitive to 
 know what had occasioned my coming home so late , but I evaded 
 her questions, and she left me in any thing but good-humour; but 
 about that I never felt so indifferent. 
 
 The next morning, the servant made his appearance with the 
 letter, telling me that he had orders to wait till the evening; and I 
 pulled up the river. I placed it under the loose brick, as agreed 
 upon with the young lady , and then shoved off to the other side of 
 the river, where I had a full view of the garden , and could notice 
 all that passed. In half an hour the young lady came out, accom- 
 panied by another female , and sauntered up aud down the gravel 
 walk. After a while she stopped, and looked on the river, her 
 companion continuing her promenade. As if without hoping to 
 find any thing there , she moved the brick aside with her foot ; per- 
 ceiving the letter, she snatched it up eagerly, and concealed it in 
 her dress , and then cast her eyes on the river. It was calm , and I 
 whistled the bar of music. She heard it, and turning away, 
 hastened into the house. In about half an hour she returned , and 
 watching her opportunity, stooped down to the brick. I waited a 
 few minutes , when both she and her companion went into the 
 house. I then pulled in under the wall , lifted up the brick , took 
 the letter, and hastened back to Fulham, when I delivered the 
 letter to the servant, who rode off with it as fast as he could , and I 
 returned home quite pleased at the successful issue of my attempt, 
 and not a little curious to learn the real facts of this extraordinary 
 affair. 
 
301 
 
 CHAPTER VI, 
 
 The Domine rehds me a sermon out of the largest book I ever fell in 
 with, covering nearly two acres of ground. — The pages not very 
 easy to turn over, but the type very convenient to read without 
 spectacles. — He leaves oflF without shutting his book, as parsons 
 usually do at the end of their sermons. 
 
 The next day , being Sunday , as usual , I went to see the Do- 
 mine and Mr. Turnbull. I arrived at the school just as all the boys 
 were filing off, two and two, for church, the advance led by the 
 usher, and the rear brought up by the Domine in person, and I 
 accompanied them. The Domine appeared melancholy and out of 
 spirits — hardly exchanging a word with me during our walk. 
 When the service was over , he ordered the usher to take the boys 
 home , and remained with me in the churchyard — surveying the 
 tombstones and occasionally muttering to himself. At last the 
 congregation dispersed, and we were alone. 
 
 "Little did I think, Jacob," said he, at last, **that when I 
 bestowed such care upon thee in thy childhood , I should be re- 
 warded as I have been. Little did I think that it would be to the 
 boy who was left destitute, that I should pour out my soul when 
 afflicted, and find in him that sympathy which I have long lost, 
 by the removal of those who were once my friends. Yes , Jacob, 
 those who were known to me in my youth , those few in whom I 
 confided, and leant upon, are now lying here in crumbling dust, 
 and the generation hath passed away, and I now rest upon thee, 
 my son , whom I have directed in the right path , and who hast, 
 by the blessing of God, continued to walk straight in it. Verily 
 thou art a solace to me , Jacob , and though young in years , I feel 
 that in thee I have received a friend , and one that I may confide in. 
 Bless thee, Jacob ! bless thee , my boy, and before I am laid with 
 those who have gone before me , may I see thee prosperous and 
 happy. Then I will sing the Nunc dimittis — then will I say, 
 'Now, Lord, let thy servant depart in peace."' 
 
 "I am happy, Sir," replied I, to hear you say that I am of 
 any comfort to you , for I feel truly grateful for all your kindness to 
 me; but I wish that you did not require comfort." 
 
302 
 
 Jacob , in what part of a man's life docs he not require com- 
 fort and consolation; yea, even from the time when, as a child, 
 he buries his weeping face in his mother's lap, till the hour that 
 summons him to his account? Not that I consider this world to be, 
 as many have described it, a 'vale of tears.' No, Jacob, it is a 
 beautiful world , a glorious world, and would be a happy world, if 
 we would only restrain those senses and those passions with which 
 we have been endowed, that we may fully enjoy the beauty, the 
 variety, the inexhaustible bounty of a gracious Heaven. All was 
 made for enjoyment and for happiness , but it is we ourselves who, 
 by excess, delile that which otherwise were pure.' Thus, the 
 fainting traveller may drink wholesome and refreshing draughts 
 from the bounteous overflowing spring, but should he rush heed- 
 lessly into it, he muddies the source , and the waters are those of 
 bitterness. Thus, Jacob, was wine given to cheer the heart of 
 man, yet didst not thou witness me, thy preceptor, debased by 
 intemperance? Thus, Jacob, were the affections implanted in us 
 as a source of sweetest happiness, such as those which now yearn 
 in my breast towards thee ; yet hast thou seen me , thy preceptor, 
 by yielding to the infatuation and imbecility of threescore years^ 
 doat, in my folly, upon a maiden, and turn the sweet affections 
 into a source of misery and anguish." I answered not, for the 
 words of theDomine made a strong impression upon me, and I 
 was weighing them in my mind. "Jacob continued the Domine, 
 after a pause, **next to the book of life, there is no subject of 
 contemplation more salutary than the book of death, of which each 
 stone now around us may be considered as a page, and each page 
 contains a lesson. Read that which is now before us. It would 
 appear hard that an only child should have been torn away from its 
 doting parents , who have thus imperfectly expressed their anguish 
 on the tomb ; it would appear hard that their delight , their solace, 
 the object of their daily care, of their waking thoughts , of their 
 last imperfect recollections as they sank into sleep, of their only 
 dreams , should thus have heea taken from them ; yet did I know 
 them , and Heaven was just and merciful. The child had weaned 
 them from their God — they lived but in him, they were without 
 God in the world. The child alone had their affections , and they 
 
303 
 
 had been lost, had not He in his mercy removed it. Come this 
 way, Jacob." I followed the Domine till he stood before another 
 tombstone in a corner of the churchyard. **This stone, Jacob, 
 marks the spot where lie the remains of one who was my earliest 
 and dearest friend — for in my youth I had friends , because I had 
 anticipations , and little thought that it would have pleased God 
 that I should do my duty in that station to which I have been called. 
 He had one fault, which proved a source of misery through life, 
 and was the cause of an untimely death. He was of a revengeful 
 disposition. He never forgave an injury, forgetting, poor sinful 
 mortal , for how much he had need to be forgiven. He quarrelled 
 with his relations — he was shot in a duel with his friend. I 
 mention this , Jacob , as a lesson to thee , not that I feel myself 
 worthy to be thy preceptor, for I am humbled; but out of kind- 
 ness and love towards thee , that I might persuade thee to correct 
 that fault in thy disposition.'* 
 
 **I have already made friends with Mr. Drummond, Sir/' 
 answered I; **but still your admonition shall not be thrown away." 
 
 **Hast thou, Jacob? then is my mind much relieved. I trust 
 thou wilt no longer stand in thine own light, but accept the offers 
 which , in the fulness of his heart to make redress , he may make 
 unto thee." 
 
 **Nay, Sir, I cannot promise that: I wish to be independent 
 and earn my own livelihood." 
 
 '*Then hear me, Jacob, for the spirit of prophecy is on me; 
 the time will come when thou shalt bitterly repent. Thou 
 hast received an education by my unworthy endeavours, and 
 hast been blessed by Providence with talents far above the situa- 
 tion in life to which thou wouldst so tenaciously adhere ; the time 
 will come when thou wilt repent, yea bitterly repent. Look at 
 that marble monument with the arms so lavishly emblazoned upon 
 it. That,* Jacob, is the tomb of a proud man, whose career is 
 well known to me. He was in straitened circumstances, yet of 
 gentle race — but, like the steward in the Scripture, *work he 
 could not, to beg he was ashamed.' He might have prospered in 
 the world, but his pride forbade him. He might have made 
 friends, but his pride forbade him. He might have wedded himself 
 
304 
 
 to wealth and beauty , but there was no escutcheon , and his pride 
 forbade him. He did marry , and entail upon his children poverty. 
 He died , and the little he possessed was taken from his children's 
 necessities to build this record to his dust. Do not suppose that 
 I w ould check that honest pride, which will prove a safeguard from 
 imworthy actions. I only wish to check that ><indue pride which 
 will mar thy future prospects. Jacob, that which thou termest 
 independence is nought but pride." 
 
 I could not acknowledge that I agreed with the Domine, al- 
 though something in my breast told me that he was not wrong. I 
 made no answer. The Domine continued to muse — at last he 
 again spoke. 
 
 '*Yes; it is a beautiful world; for the Spirit of God is on it. 
 At the separation of chaos it came over the water, and hath since 
 remained with us , every where , but invisible. We see his hand 
 in the variety and the beauty of creation , but his Spirit we see not; 
 yet do we feel it in the still small voice of conscience , which would 
 lead us into the right path. — Now,. Jacob, we must return, for 
 I have the catechism and collects to attend to." 
 
 I took leave of the Domine , and went to Mr. Turnbuirs , to 
 whom I gave an account of yhathad passed since I last saw him. 
 He was much pleased with my reconciliation with theDrummonds, 
 and interested about the young lady to whom appertained the tin- 
 box in his possession. **I presume, Jacob, we shall now have 
 that mystery cleared up." 
 
 **I have not told the gentleman that we have possession of the 
 box," replied I. 
 
 **No ; but you told the young laqy, you silly fellow; and do 
 you think she will keep it a secret froni him?" 
 ** Very true ; I had forgotten that." 
 Jacob, I wish you to go to Mr. Drummond's and see his 
 family again; you ought to do so." I hesitated. *'Nay, I shall 
 give you a fair opportunity without wounding that pride of yours, 
 Sir," replied Mr. Turnbull; **I owe him some money for some 
 wine he purchased for me , and I shall send the cheque by you." 
 
 To this I assented, as I was not sorry of an opportunity of 
 seeing Sarah. I dined with Mr. Turnbull, who was alone, his 
 
305 
 
 wife being on a visit to a relation in the country. He again offered 
 me his advice as to giving up the profession of a waterman ; but if 
 I did not hear him with- so much impatience as before , nor use so 
 many>rguments against it, I did not accede to his wishes, and 
 the subject was dropped. Mr. TurnbuU was satisfied that my re- 
 sistance was weakened, and hoped in time to have the effect which he 
 desired. When I went home, Mary told me that Tom Beazeley had 
 been there , that his wherry was building , that his father had given 
 up the lighter, and was now on shore very busy in getting up his 
 board to attract customers, and obtain work in his new occupation. 
 
 I had not launched my wherry the next morning, when down 
 came the young gentleman to whom I had despatched the letter. 
 "Faithful," said he, "come to the tavern with me; I must have 
 some conversation with you." I follow ed him ; and as soon as we 
 were in a room, he said, "First let me pay my debt, for I owe 
 you much; " and he laid five guineas on the table. "I find from 
 Cecilia that you have possession of the tin-case of deeds which has 
 been so eagerly sought after by both parties. Why did you not 
 say so? And why did you not tell me that it was you whom I hired 
 on the night when I was so unfortunate?" 
 
 "I considered the secret as belonging to the young lady, and 
 having told her, I left it to her discretion to make you acquainted 
 or not, as she pleased." 
 
 "It was thoughtful and prudent of you, at all events, although 
 there w^as no occasion for it. Nevertheless I am pleased that yoa 
 did so , as it proves you to be trustworthy. Now tell me , who is 
 the gentJeman who was with you in the boat, and who has charge 
 of the box? Observe, Faithful, I do not intend do demand it. 
 I shall tell him the facts of the case in your presence, and then 
 leave him to decide whether he will surrender up the papers to the 
 other party, or to me. Can you take me there now?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir," replied I, "lean, if you please; I will pull you 
 up in half an hour. The house is at the river's side." 
 
 The young gentleman leaped into my wherry, and we were, in 
 less than the time I had mentioned, in the parlour of Mr. Turn- 
 bull. I will not repeat the conversation in detail, but give the 
 outline of the young man's story. 
 Jacob Faithful. ;jO 
 
306 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 A long story, which ends In the opening of the tin-box, which proves to 
 contain deeds much more satisfactory to Mr. Wharncliffe than the 
 deeds of his uncle. — 1 begin to feel the blessings of independence, 
 and suspect that I have acted like a fool. — After two years' con- 
 sideration I become quite sure of it, andj as Tom says, "no mistake." 
 
 **The gentleman who prevented my taking off the young lady 
 is uncle to both of us. We are therefore first cousins. Our fa- 
 mily name is Wharncliffe. My father was a major in the army. 
 He died when I was young, and my mother is still alive, and is 
 sister to Lady Auburn. The father and mother of Cecilia are both 
 dead. He went out to India to join his brother, another uncle , of 
 whom I shall speak directly. He has now been dead three years, 
 and out of the four brothers there is only one left, my uncle , with 
 whom Cecilia is living, and whose Christian name is Henry. He 
 was a lawyer by profession, but he purchased a patent place, 
 which he still enjoys. My father, whose name was William, died 
 in very moderate circumstances ; but still he left enough for my 
 mother to live upon , and to educate me properly. I was brought 
 up to the law under my uncle HenrJ^, with whom, for some years, 
 I resided. Cecilia's father, whose name was Edward, left nothing ; 
 he had ruined himself in England, and had gone out to India at 
 the request of my uncle there , whose name was James , and who 
 had amassed a large fortune. Soon after the death of Cecilia's 
 father, my uncle James came home on furlough, for he held a very 
 high and lucrative situation under the Company. A bachelor 
 from choice^ he was still fond of young people; and having but one 
 nephew and one niece to leave his money to , as soon as he arrived 
 with Cecilia , whom he brought with him , he was most anxious to 
 see me. He therefore took up his quarters with my uncle Henry, 
 and remained with him during his sojourn in England; but my 
 uncle James was of a very* cold and capricious temper. He liked 
 me best because I was a boy , and one day declared I should be his 
 heir. The next day he would alter his intention , and declare that 
 Cecilia, of whom he was very fond , should inherit every thing. If 
 we affronted him, for at the age of sixteen as a boy, and fourteen 
 as a girl, worldly prospects were little regarded, he would then 
 
307 
 
 declare that we should not be a shilling the better for his money. 
 With him, money was every thing: it was his daily theme of 
 conversation, his only passion; and he valued and respected 
 people in proportion to what they were supposed to possess. With 
 ihese feelings he demanded for himself the greatest deference from 
 Cecilia and me, as his expectant heirs. This he did not receive; 
 but on the whole he was pleased with us, and after remaining three 
 years in England, he returned to the East Indies. I had heard him 
 mention to my uncle Henry his intention of making his will, and 
 leaving it with him before he sailed ; but I was not certain whether 
 it had been done or not. At all events , my uncle Henry took care 
 that I should not be in the way ; for at that time my uncle carried 
 on his profession as a lawyer, and I was working in his office. It 
 was not until after my uncle James returned to India that he gave 
 up business, and purchased the patent place which I mentioned. 
 Cecilia was left with my uncle Henry , and as we lived in the same 
 house, our affections, as we grew up, ripened into love. We often 
 used to laugh at the threats of my uncle James , and agreed that 
 whoever might be the fortunate one to- whom he left his property, 
 we would go halves , and share it equally. 
 
 **In the mean time I still followed up my profession in another 
 house , in which I at present am a partner. Four years after the 
 return of my uncle James to India , news came home of his death ; 
 but it was also stated that no will could be found, and it was 
 supposed that he died intestate. Of course, my uncle Henry 
 succeeded as heir-at-law to the whole property, and thus were the 
 expectations and hopes of Cecilia and of myself dashed to the 
 ground. But this was not the worst of it: my uncle, who had 
 witnessed our feelings for each other, and had made no comment, 
 as soon as he was in possession of the property, intimated to 
 Cecilia that she should be his heiress , provided that she married 
 according to his wishes ; and pointed out to her that a fortune 
 such as she might expect would warrant the alliance of the first 
 nobleman in the kingdom ; and he very plainly told me that he 
 thought it advisable that I should find lodgings for myself, and 
 not be any longer an inmate in the same house as was my cousin, 
 as no good would result from it. Xhus, Sir, were we not only 
 
 20* 
 
308 
 
 disappointed in our hopes , but thwarted in our affections , which 
 had for some time been exchanged. Maddened at this intimation, 
 I quitted the house ; but at the same time the idea of my uncle 
 James having made a will still pressed upon me, as I called to 
 mind what I had heard him say to my uncle Henry previous to his 
 sailing for India. There was a box of deeds and papers, the very 
 box now in your possession, which my uncle invariably kept in 
 his bed-room. I felt convinced that the will, if not destroyed, 
 (and I did not believe my uncle would dare to commit an act of 
 felony,) was in that box. Had I remained in the house , I would 
 have found some means to have opened it; but this was no longer 
 possible. I communicated my suspicions to Cecilia , and begged 
 her to make the attempt , which would be more easy , as my uncle 
 would not suspect her of being bold enough to venture it, even 
 if he had the suspicion. Cecilia promised, and one day my uncle 
 fortunately left his keys upon his dressing-table when he came 
 down to breakfast, and went out without missing them. Cecilia 
 discovered them, and opened the box; and amongst other 
 parchments found a document labelled outside as the will of our 
 uncle James ; but women understand little about these things, and 
 she was in such trepidation for fear that my uncle should return, 
 that she could not examine very minutely. As it was, my uncle did 
 return for his keys just as she had locked the box , and placed the 
 keys upon the table. He asked her what she was doing there, 
 and she made some excuse. He saw the keys on the table, and 
 whether suspecting her, for she coloured up very much, or afraid 
 that the attempt might be made at my suggestion , he removed 
 the box and locked it up in a closet, the key of which , I believe, 
 he left with his banker in town. When Cecilia wrote to me an 
 account of what had passed, I desired her to find the means of 
 opening the closet, that we might gain possession of the box; 
 and this was easily effected , for the key of another closet fitted 
 the lock exactly. I then persuaded her to put herself under my 
 protection , with the determination that we would marry imme- 
 diately; and we had so arranged, that the tin-box was to have 
 accompanied us. You arc aware. Sir, how unfortunately our 
 plan turned out — at least , so far unfortunately , that I lost , as I 
 
309 
 
 thought, not only Cecilia, but the tin-box, containing, as I expect, 
 the will of my uncle , of which I am more than ever convinced 
 from the great anxiety shown by my uncle Henry to recover it. 
 Since the loss , he has been in a state of agitation which has worn 
 him to a shadow. He feels that his only chance is, that the 
 waterman employed might have broken open the box, expecting 
 to find money in it, and being disappointed, have destroyed the 
 papers to avoid detection. If such had been the case, and it might 
 have been , had it not fallen into such good hands , he then would 
 have obtained his only wish, that of the destruction of the will, 
 although not by his own hands. Now, Sir, I have given you a full 
 and honest account of the affair, and leave you to decide how 
 to act." 
 
 *' If you leave me to decide, I shall do it very quickly," replied 
 Mr. Turubull. *'A box has fallen into my hands, and I do not 
 know who is the owner. I shall open it, and take a list of the 
 deeds it contains, and advertise them in the Times and other 
 newspapers. If your dead uncle's will is in it, it will of course 
 be advertised with the others, and after such publicity, your uncle 
 Henry will not venture, I presume, to say a word, but be too glad 
 not to be exposed." 
 
 Mr. Turnbull ordered a locksmith to be summoned, and the 
 tin-box was opened. It contained the document of the uncle's 
 purchase of the patent place in the courts, and some other papers, 
 but it also contained the parchment so much looked after — the 
 last will and testament of James Wharncliffe, E*q. , dated two 
 months previous to his quitting England. **I think," observed 
 Mr. Turnbull, that in case of accident, it may be as well that this 
 will should be read before witnesses. You observe, it is witnessed 
 by Henry Wharncliffe, with two others. Let us take down 
 their names." 
 
 The will was read by young Wharncliffe, at the request of 
 Mr. Turnbull. Strange to say, the deceased bequeathed the whole 
 of his property to his nephew, William Wharncliffe, and his niece, 
 Cecilia, provided they married; if they did not, they were left 
 20,000 £ each , and the remainder of the fortune to go to the first 
 male child born after the marriage of either niece or nephew. 
 
310 
 
 To his brother, the sum of 10,000 £ was bequeathed, with 
 a liberal arrangement, to be paid out of the estate, as long 
 as his niece lived with him. The will was read , and returned 
 to Mr. Turnbull, who shook hands with Mr. Wharnciiffe, and 
 congratulated him. 
 
 ''I am so much indebted to you, Sir, that I can hardly express 
 my gratitude , but I am still more indebted to this intelligent lad, 
 Faithful. You must no longer be a waterman. Faithful," and Mr. 
 Wharnciiffe shook my hand. I made no answer to the latter ob- 
 servation , for Mr. Turnbull had fixed his eye upon me : I merely 
 said that I was very happy to have been of use to him. 
 
 *' You may truly say , Mr. Wharnciiffe , " observed Mr. Turn- 
 bull, "that your future prosperity will be through his means ; and, 
 as it appears by the will that you have 9,000 i per annum safe in 
 the funds , I think you ought to give a prize wherry, to be rowed 
 for every year.'* 
 
 "And I will take that," replied I , " for a receipt in full for my 
 share in the transaction." 
 
 "And now," said Mr. Turnbull, interrupting Mr. Wharnciiffe, 
 who was about to answer me, "it appears to me that it may be as 
 well to avoid any exposure — the case is too clear* Call upon your 
 uncle — state in whose hands the documents are — tell him that 
 he must submit to your terms , which are , that he proves the will, 
 and permits the marriage to take place immediately, and that no 
 more will be said on the subject. He, as a lawyer, knows how 
 severely and disgracefully he might be punished for what he has 
 done, and will be too happy now to accede to your terms. In the 
 mean time I keep possession of the papers, for the will shall never 
 leave my hands, until it is lodged in Doctors* Commons." 
 
 Mr. Wharnciiffe could not but approve of this judicious arrange- 
 ment , and we separated ; and, not to interfere with my narrative, 
 I may as well tell the reader at once , that Mr. Wharncliffe's uncle 
 bowed to circumstances, pretended to rejoice at the discovery of 
 the will, never mentioned the loss of his tin-box, put the hand of 
 Cecilia into that of William, and they were married one month after 
 the meeting at Mr. TurnbuU's, which I have now related. 
 
 The evening w as so far advanced before; this council of war was 
 
311 
 
 over, that I was obliged to defer the delivery of the cheque to Mr. 
 Drummond until the next day. I left about eleven o'clock, and 
 arrived at noon; when I knocked at the door the servant did not 
 know me. 
 
 What did you want?" 
 
 "I wanted to speak with Mrs. or Miss Drummond, and my 
 name is Faithful." 
 
 He desired me to sit down in the hall, while he went up ; and 
 wipe your shoes, my lad." I cannot say that I was pleased at this 
 command, as I may call it, but he returned , desiring me to walk 
 up, and I followed him. 
 
 I found Sarah alone in the drawing-room. 
 
 *' Jacob , I 'm so glad to see you , and I 'm sorry that you were 
 made to wait below , but — if people who can be otherwise , will 
 be watermen , it is not our fault. The servants only judge by ap- 
 pearances." 
 
 I felt annoyed for a moment, but it was soon over. I sat down 
 by Sarah, and talked with her for some time. 
 
 **The present I had to make you was a purse of my own knit- 
 ting, to put your — earnings in," said she, laughing; and then 
 she held up her finger in mockery, crying, *'Boat, Sir; boat. Sir. 
 Well, Jacob, there's nothing like independence , after all, and 
 you must not mind my laughing at you." 
 
 *' I do not heed it, Sarah," replied I; (but I did mind it very 
 much ;) there is no disgrace. " 
 
 * ' None whatever, I grant ; but a want of ambition which I can- 
 not understand. However , let us say no more about it." 
 
 Mrs. Drummond came into the room , and greeted me kindly. 
 When can you come and dine with us , Jacob? Will you come 
 on Wednesday?" 
 
 0 mamma ! he can't come on Wednesday ; we have company 
 on that day." « 
 
 *'So we have, my dear, I had forgotten it; but on Thursday 
 we are quite alone : will you come on Thursday , Jacob ? " 
 
 I hesitated, for I felt that it was because I was a waterman that 
 I was not admitted to the table where I had been accustomed to 
 dine at one time, whoever might be invited. 
 
312 
 
 Yes, Jacob/* said Sarah, coming to me, it must be Thurs- 
 day , and you must not deny us ; for although we have greater 
 people on Wednesday , the party that day will not be so agreeable 
 to me as your company on Thursday." 
 
 The last compliment from Sarah decided me , and I accepted 
 the invitation. Mr. Drummond came in , and I delivered to him 
 Mr. TurnbuU's cheque. He was very kind, but said little further 
 than that he was glad that I had promised to dine with them on 
 Thursday. The footman came in and announced the carriage at 
 the door, and this was a signal for me to take my leave. Sarah, as 
 she shook hands with me , laughing, asserted that it was not con- 
 siderate in them to detain me any longer, as I must have lost half 
 a dozen good fares already; "So go down to your boat, pull off 
 your jacket, and make up for lost time continued she ; "one of 
 these days, mamma and I intend to go on the water, just to pa- 
 tronize you.'* I laughed , and went away , but I was cruelly mor- 
 tified. I could not be equal to them , because I was a waterman. 
 The sarcasm of Sarah was not lost upon me ; still there was so 
 much kindness mixed with it that I could not be angry with her. 
 On the Thursday I went there , as agreed; they were quite alone ; 
 friendly and attentive ; but still there was a degree of constraint 
 which communicated itself to me. After dinner, Mr. Drummond 
 said very little ; there was no renewal of offers to take me into his 
 employ, nor any inquiry as to how I got on in the profession which 
 I had chosen. On the whole, I found myself uncomfortable , and 
 was glad to leave early, nor did I feel at all inclined to renew my 
 visit. I ought to remark., that Mr. Drummond was now moving in 
 a very different sphere than when I first knew him. He was con- 
 signee of several large establishments abroad, and was making a 
 rapid fortune. His establishment was also on a very different 
 scale , every department being appointed with elegance and con- 
 ducive to luxury. ^As I pulled up the river, something within my 
 breast told me that the Domine's prophecy would turn out correct, 
 and that I should one day repent of my having refused the advances 
 of Mr. Drummond" — nay, I did not exactly know whether I did 
 not , even at that moment , very much doubt the wisdom of my 
 asserting my independence. 
 
313 
 
 And now, reader, that I may not surfeit you with an unin- 
 teresting detail , you must allow nearly two years to pass away 
 before I recommence my narrative. \ The events of that time I shall 
 sum up in one or two pages. The Domine continued the even 
 tenor of his way — blew his nose and handled his rod with as much 
 effect as ever. I seldom passed a Sunday without paying him a 
 visit , and benefiting by his counsel. Mr. TurnbuU was always 
 kind and considerate, but gradually declining in health, having 
 never recovered from the effects of his submersion under the ice. 
 Of the Drummonds I saw but little; when we did meet, I was 
 kindly received , but I never volunteered a call, and it was usually 
 from a message through Tom, that I went to pay my respects. 
 Sarah had grown a very beautiful girl , and the well-known fact of 
 Mr. Drummond's wealth, and her being an only daughter, was an 
 introduction to a circle much higher than they had been formerly 
 accustomed to. Everyday, therefore, the disparity increased, 
 and I felt less inclined to make my appearance at their house. 
 
 Stapleton, as usual, continued to smoke his pipe and descant 
 upon human natur. Mary had grown into a splendid woman, 
 but coquettish as ever. Poor Tom Beazeley was fairly entrapped 
 by her charms, and was a constant attendant upon her, but she 
 played him fast and loose — one time encouraging and smiling on 
 him, at another rejecting and flouting him. Still Tom persevered, 
 for he was fascinated, and having returned me the money advanced 
 for his wherry , he expended all his earnings on dressing himself 
 smartly, and making presents to her. She had completely grown 
 out of any controul from me , and appeared to have a pleasure in 
 doing every thing she knew I disapproved; still we were on fair 
 friendly terms as inmates of the same house. 
 
 Old Tom Beazeley's board was up , and he had met with great 
 success; and all day he might be seen hammering at the bottoms 
 of boats of every description, and heard, at the same time, lighten- 
 ing his labour with his variety of song. I often called there on my 
 way up and down the river, and occasionally passed a few hours, 
 listening to his yarns, which, ^like his songs, appeared to be 
 inexhaustible. 
 
 With respect to myself, it would be more a narrative of feelings 
 
314 
 
 than of action. My life glided on as did my wherry — silently and 
 rapidly. One day was but the forerunner of another, with slight 
 variety of incident and customers. My acquaintance, as the reader 
 knows, were but few, and my visits occasional. I again turned to 
 my books during the long summer evenings, in which Mary would 
 walk out , accompanied by Tom , and other admirers ; Mr. Turn- 
 bull's library was at my service, and I profited much. After a 
 time, reading became almost a passion, and I was seldom without 
 a book in my hand. But although I improved my mind , I did not 
 render myself happier. On the contrary, I felt more and more that 
 I had committed an act of egregious folly in thus asserting my inde- 
 pendence. I felt that I was superior to my station in life, and that 
 I lived with those who were not companions — that I had thrown 
 away, by foolish pride, those prospects of advancement which had 
 offered themselves , and that I was passing my youth unprofitably. 
 All this crowded upon me more and more every day, and I bitterly 
 repented , as the Domine told me that I should , my spirit of inde- 
 pendence — now that it was too late. The offers of Mr. Drum- 
 mond were never renewed, and Mr. Turnbull, who had formed the 
 idea that I was still of the same opinion, and who, at the same time, 
 in his afflicted state — for he was a martyr to the rheumatism — 
 naturally thought more of himself and less of others, never again 
 proposed that I should quit my employment. I was still too proud 
 to mention my wishes, and thus did I continue plying on the river, 
 apathetic almost as to gain , and only happy when , in the pages of 
 history or among the flowers of poetry, I could dwell upon times 
 that were past, or revel in imagination. Thus did reading, like the 
 snake which is said to contain in its body a remedy for the poison 
 of its fangs, become, as it enlarged my mind , a source of discon- 
 tent at my humble situation ; but, at the same time, the only solace 
 in ray unhappiness , by diverting my thoughts from the present. 
 Pass, then, nearly two years , reader, taking the above remarks as 
 an outline, and filling up the picture from the colours of your ima- 
 gination, with incidents of no peculiar value , and I agein resume 
 my narrative. 
 
315 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A chapter of losses to all but the reader, thongli at first Tom works with 
 his wit, and receives the full value of his exertiotts. — We make tho 
 very worst hargain we ever made in our lives. — We lose our fare, 
 we lose our boat, and ^Ve lose our liberty. — AH l^ss arid no 
 profit. — Fare very unfair. — Two guineas' worth of argument, not 
 worth two-pence , except on the quarter-deck of a man-of-war. 
 
 ** Jacob," said Tom to me , pulling his wherry into the hard 
 alongside of mine , in which I was sitting, with one of Mr. Turn- 
 bull's books in my hand ; '* Jacob, do you recollect that my time is 
 up to-morrow? I shall have run off my seven years, and when the 
 sun rises , I shall be free of the river. How much more have you 
 to serve?'* 
 
 ''About fifteen months, as near as I can recollect, Tom. — 
 Boat, Sir?" 
 
 **Yes; oars, my lad; be smart, for I 'm in a hurry. How's 
 tide?" 
 
 *' Down, Sir, very soon; but it 's now slack water. Tom, see 
 if you can find Stapleton." 
 
 '*Pooh ! never mind him, Jacob, I '11 go with you. I say, Jones, 
 tell old 'human natur' to look after my boat," continued Tom, 
 addressing a waterman of our acquaintance. 
 
 "I thought you had come up to see her," said I to Tom, as we 
 shoved off. 
 
 "See her at Jericho first," replied Tom; "she's worse than 
 a dog vane." 
 
 "What, are you two again?" 
 
 "Two indeed — it's all two — we are two fools. She is too 
 fanciful , I am too fond ; she behaves too ill, and I put up with too 
 much. However, it 'sail one." 
 
 " I thought it was all two just now, Tom." 
 
 "But two may be made one , Jacob, you know." 
 
 "Yes, by the parson; but you are no parson." 
 
 "Anyhow, I 'm something like one just now," replied Tom, 
 who was pulling the foremost oar; "for you are a good clerk, and 
 I am sitting behind you." 
 
316 
 
 **That *s not so bad," observed the gentleman in the stern 
 sheets , whom we had forgotten in our colloquy. 
 
 *'A waterman would make but a bad parson, Sir," replied 
 Tom. 
 
 *'Whyso?" , 
 **He 's not likely to practise as he preaches." 
 '* Again, why so?" 
 Because all his life he looks one way and pulls another." 
 Very good — very good indeed." 
 **Nay, Sir, good in practice, but still not good in deled — 
 there *s a puzzle." 
 
 " A puzzle , indeed, to Gnd such a regular chain of repartee in 
 a wherry." 
 
 Well, Sir, if I *m a regular chain to-day, I shall be like an 
 irregular watch to-morrow." 
 
 '^Whyso, my lad?" 
 
 **Because I shall be out of my time." 
 
 **Take that, my lad," said the gentleman, tossing half-a-crown 
 to Tom. 
 
 Thanky, Sir ; when we meet again may you have no more wit 
 than you have now." 
 
 * ' How do you mean ? " 
 
 *' Not wit enough to keep your money , Sir — that 's all? " 
 *'I presume you think that I have not got much." 
 
 Which, Sir, wit or money?" 
 '*Wit, my lad." 
 Nay, Sir, I think you have both : the first you purchased just 
 now ; and you would hardly have bought it , if you had not money 
 to spare." 
 
 ''But I mean wit of my own." 
 
 *'No man has wit of his own; if he borrows it, it 's not bis 
 own; if he has it in himself, it 's mother wit, so it 's not his." 
 
 We pulled into the stairs near London Bridge, and the gen- 
 tleman paid me his fare. *'Good bye, my lad," said he to 
 Tom. 
 
 "Fare you well, for well you 've paid your fare," replied 
 Tom , holding out his arm to assist him out of the boat. ''Well, 
 
317 
 
 Jacob, I 've made more by my head than by my hands this 
 morui.ng. I wonder , in the long run , which gains most in the 
 world." 
 
 ''Head, Tom, depend upon it; but they work best toge- 
 ther/' 
 
 Here we were interrupted — *'I say, you waterman, have 
 you a mind for a good fare?" cried a dark looking, not over clean, 
 squarebuilt, short young man , standing on the top of the flight of 
 steps. 
 
 "Where to. Sir?" 
 
 **Gravesend, my jokers, if you a'u't afraid of salt water." 
 
 *' That 's along way, Sir," replied Tom; and for salt water, 
 we must have salt to our porridge." 
 
 "So you shall, my lads, and a glass of grog into the 
 bargain." 
 
 "Yes; but the bargain a'n't made yet. Sir. Jacob, will 
 you go?" 
 
 "Yes, but not under a guinea." 
 
 "Not under two guineas," replied Tom, aside. "Are you 
 in a great hurry. Sir?" continued he, addressing the young 
 man. 
 
 ' * Yes , in a devil of a hurry ; I shall lose my ship . What will 
 you take me for?" 
 
 "Two guineas, Sir." 
 
 " Very well. Just come up to the public-house here , and put 
 fn my traps." 
 
 We brought down his luggage, put it into the wherry , and 
 started down the river with the tide. Our fare was very communi- 
 cative , and we found out that he was master's mate of the Immor- 
 tality, forty-gun frigate , lying off Gravesend , which was to drop 
 down the next morning and wait for sailing orders at the Downs. 
 We carried the tide with us , and in the afternoon were close to the 
 frigate , whose blue ensign waved proudly over the taffrail. There 
 was a considerable sea arising from the wind meeting the tide , and 
 before we arrived close to her, we had shipped a great deal of 
 water; and when we were alongside, the wherry, with the chest 
 in her bows, pitched so heavily, that we were afraid of being 
 
318 
 
 swamped. Just as a rope had been made fast to the chest, and 
 they were weighing it out of the wherry, the ship's launch with 
 water came alongside, and, whether from accident or wilfully I 
 know not, although I suspect the latter, the midshipman who 
 steered her, shot her against the wherry, which was crushed in, 
 and immediately filled , leaving Tom and me in the water, and in 
 danger of being jammed to death between the launch and the side 
 of the frigate. The seamen in the boat, however, forced her off 
 with their oars , and hauled us in , while our wherry sank with her 
 gunnel even with the water's edge , and floated away astern. 
 
 As soon as we had shaken ourselves a little , we went up the 
 side , and asked one of the officers to send a boat to pick up our 
 wherry. 
 
 ** Speak to the first lieutenant — there he is was the reply. 
 I went up to the person pointed out to me; **If you please, 
 
 Sir 
 
 What the devil do you want?" 
 *'A boat, Sir, to — ** 
 '*Aboat! the devil you do ! " 
 '* To pickup our wherry, Sir," interrupted Tom. 
 Pick it up yourself," said the first lieutenant, passing us, 
 and hailing the men aloft. *'Maintop there, hook on your stays. 
 Be smart. Lower away the yards. Marines and after-guard , clear 
 launch. Boatswain's mate." 
 "Here, Sir." 
 
 " Pipe marines and after-guard to clear launch." 
 "Aye, aye, Sir." 
 
 "But we shall lose our boat, Jacob ," said Tom to me. "They 
 stove it in, and they ought to pick it up." Tom then went up to 
 the master's mate , whom we had brought on board , and explained 
 our difficulty. 
 
 "Upon my soul, I dar'n't say a word. I 'm in a scrape" for 
 breaking my leave. Why the devil didn't you take care of your 
 wherry, and haul a-head when you saw the launch coming? " 
 
 "How could we , when the chest was hoisting out?" 
 
 "Very true. Well, I am very sorry for you, but I must look after 
 my chest." So saying, he disappeared down the gangway ladder. 
 
319 
 
 try it again any how," said Tom, going up to the first 
 lieutenant. "Hard case to lose our boat and our bread. Sir," 
 said Tom , touching; his hat. 
 
 The first lieutenant , now that the marines and afterguard were 
 at a regular stamp and go, had, unfortunately, more leisure to 
 attend to us. He looked at us earnestly, and walked aft to see if 
 the wherry was yet in sight. At that moment up came the mas- 
 ter's mate, who had not yet reported himself to the first lieutenant. 
 
 **Tom," said I, ''there is a wherry close to, let us get into 
 it , and go after our boat ourselves." 
 
 ** Wait one moment to see if they will help us — and get our 
 money, at all events ," replied Tom : and we both walked aft. 
 
 "Come on board. Sir," said the master's mate , touching his 
 hat with humility. 
 
 " You 've broke your leave , Sir," replied the first lieutenant, 
 ** and now I 've to send a boat to pick up the wherry through your 
 carelessness." 
 
 ** If you please , they are two very fine young men ," observed 
 the mate. "Make capital foretopmen. Boat *s not worth sending 
 for. Sir?" 
 
 This hint, given by the mate to the first lieutenant, to regain 
 his favour, was not lost. "Who are you, my lads?" said the 
 first lieutenant to us. 
 
 "Watermen, 'Sir." 
 
 "Watermen , heh ! was that your own boat? '* 
 "No, Sir," replied I; "it belonged to the man that I serve 
 with." 
 
 "0! not your own boat? Are you an apprentice , then?" 
 "Yes, Sir, both apprentices." 
 " Show me your indentures." 
 " W^e don't carry them about with us." 
 "Then how am I to know that you are apprentices?" 
 "We can prove it. Sir, if you wish it." 
 "I do wish it; at all events, the captain will wish it." 
 "Will you please to send for the boat, Sir? she 's almost out 
 of sight." 
 
 " No , my lads ; I can't find king's boats for such service." 
 
320 
 
 **Then we had better go ourselves, Tom," said I, and we 
 went forward to call the waterman , who was lying on his oars close 
 to the frigate. 
 
 '*Stop — stop — not so fast. Where are you going, my lads?" 
 To pick up our boat, Sir?" 
 Without my leave, heh!" 
 ** We don't belong to the frigate , Sir." 
 **No ; but I think it very likely that you will , for you have no 
 protections." 
 
 **We can send for them, and have them down by to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 **WeIl, you may do so, if you please, my lads; but you 
 cannot expect me to believe every thing that is told me. Now, for 
 instance, how long have you to serve, my lad?" said he, ad- 
 dressing Tom. 
 
 * ' My time is up to-morrow , Sir." 
 
 **Up to-morrow. Why, then, I shall detain you until to- 
 morrow , and then I shall press you." 
 
 **If you detain mc now, Sir, I am pressed to-day." 
 
 **Ono! you are only detained until you prove your appren- 
 ticeship , that 's all." 
 
 **Nay , Sir, I certainly am pressed during my apprenticeship." 
 
 *' Not at all , and I '11 prove it to you. You don't belong to iht 
 ship until you are victualled on her books. Now I sha'n't victual 
 you to-day , and therefore you won't be pressed." 
 
 I shall be pressed with hunger , at all events ," replied Tom, 
 who never could lose a joke. 
 
 **No , you sha'n't; for I '11 send you both a good dinner out of 
 the gun-room. So you won't be pressed at all ," replied the lieu- 
 tenant , laughing at Tom's reply. 
 
 You will allow me to go, Sir, at all events," replied I; for 
 I knew that the only chance of getting Tom and myself clear was 
 my hastening to Mr. Drummond for assistance. 
 
 **Pooh! nonsense; you must both row in the same boat as 
 you have done. The fact is , my lads , I 've taken a great fancy to 
 you both , and I can't make up my mind to part with you." 
 
 ** It 's hard to lose our bread this way ," replied I. 
 
321 
 
 "We will find you bread, and hard enough you will find it," 
 replied the lieutenant , laughing ; "it's like a flint." 
 
 "So we ask for bread, and you give us a stone," said Tom; 
 "that *s 'gainst Scripture." 
 
 "Very true , my lad ; but the fact is , all the scriptures in the 
 world won't man the frigate. Men we must have, and get them 
 how we can, and where we can, and when we can. Necessity 
 has no law ; at least it obliges us to break through all laws. After 
 all , there's no great hardship in serving the king for a year or two, 
 and filling your pockets with prize-money. Suppose you volun- 
 teer?" 
 
 "Will you allow us to go on shore for half an hour to think 
 about it?" replied I. 
 
 "No; I 'm afraid of the crimps dissuading you. But 1 '11 give 
 you till to-morrow morning, and then I shall be sure of one, at 
 all events." 
 
 "Thanky for me," replied Tom. 
 
 "You 're very welcome," replied the first lieutenant, as. 
 laughing at us , he went down the companion-lodder to his dinner. 
 
 "Well, Jacob, we are in for it," said Tom, as soon as we 
 were alone. "Depend upon it, there 's no mistake this time." 
 
 "lam afraid not," replied I, "unless we can get a letter to 
 your father, or Mr. Drummond , who , I am sure , would help us. 
 liutthat dirty fellow, who gave the lieutenant the hint, said the 
 frigate sailed to-morrow morning; there he is, let us speak to 
 him." 
 
 "When does the frigate sail?" said Tom to the master's mate, 
 who was walking the deck. 
 
 "My good fellow, it's not the custom on board of a man-of- 
 war for men to ask officers to answer such impertinent questions. 
 It 's quite sufficient for you to know that when the frigate sails, you 
 will have the honour of sailing in her." 
 
 "Well, Sir," replied I, nettled at his answer , "at all events 
 you will have the goodness to pay us our fare. We have lost our 
 wherry, and our liberty, perhaps , through you ; we may as well 
 have our two guineas." 
 
 V "Two guineas ! It 's two guineas you want, heh?" 
 
 Jacob Faithful, ^1 
 
322 
 
 ** Yes , Sir , that was the fare agreed upon." 
 
 *'Why, you must observe , my men," said the master's mate 
 hoolting a thumb into each armhole of his waistcoat, there must 
 be a little explauation as to that affair. I promised you two guioeas 
 as watermen; but now that you belong to a man-of-war, you are 
 no longer watermen. I always pay my debts honourably when I 
 can find the lawful creditors ; but where are the waterman? " 
 
 *'Hereweare, Sir." 
 
 '*No, my lads, you are men-of-war's men now, and that 
 quite alters the case." 
 
 But we are not so yet, Sir; even if it did alter the case , we 
 are not pressed yet." 
 
 ** Well , then , you will be to-morrow , perhaps ; at all events 
 we shall see. If you are allowed to go on shore again , I owe you 
 two guineas as watermen ; and if you are detained as men-of-war's 
 men , why then you will only have done your duty in pulling down 
 one of your officers. You see, my lads, I say nothing but what's 
 fair." 
 
 "Well, Sir, but when you hired us we were watermen," 
 replied Tom. 
 
 '* Very true, so you were; but recollect the two guineas were 
 not due until you had completed your task, which was not until 
 you came on board. When you came on board you were pressed, 
 and became men-of-war's men. You should have asked for your 
 fare before the first lieutenant got hold of you. Don't you perceive 
 the justice of my remarks? " 
 
 "Can'tsay I do. Sir; but 1 perceive there is very little chance 
 of our being paid," said Tom. 
 
 ** You are a lad of discrimination ," replied the master's mate : 
 ** and now I advise you to drop the subject , or you may induce me 
 to pay you ' man-of-war fashion.' " 
 How's that. Sir?" 
 
 Over the face and eyes , as the cat paid the monkey," replied 
 the master's mate , walking leisurely away. 
 
 ' No go , Tom ," said I , smiling at the absurdity of the argu- 
 ments. 
 
 **I 'm afraid it 's no go in every way, Jacob. However, I 
 
323 
 
 don't care much about it. I have had a h'ttle hankering after seeing 
 the world , and perhaps now's as well as any other time ; but I 'm 
 sorry for you, Jacob.'* 
 
 ' ' It 's all my own fault replied I ; and I fell into one of those 
 reveries so often indulged in of late, as to the folly of my conduct 
 in asserting my independence, which had now ended in my 
 losing my liberty. But we were cold from the ducking we had 
 received , and moreover very hungry. The first lieutenant did not 
 forget his promise: he sent us up a good dinner, and a glass of 
 grog each, which we discussed under the half-deck between two 
 of the guns. We had some money in our pockets , and we pur- 
 chased some sheets of paper from the bumboat people , who were 
 on the main -deck supplying the seamen; and I wrote to Mr, 
 Drummond and Mr. Turnbull, as well as to Mary and old Tom, 
 requesting the two latter to forward our clothes to Deal , in case of 
 our being detained. Tom also wrote to comfort his mother, and 
 the greatest comfort which he could give was , as he said , to pro- 
 mise to keep sober. Having entrusted these letters to the bumboat 
 woman, who promised faithfully to put them into the post-office, 
 we had then nothing else to do but to look out for some place to 
 sleep. Our clothes had dried onus, and we were walking under 
 the half-deck ; but not a soul spoke to , or even took the least 
 notice of us. In a newly-manned ship just ready to sail , there is 
 a universal feeling of selfishness prevailing among the ship's com" 
 pany. Some, if not most, had, like us, been pressed, and 
 their thoughts were occupied with their situation , and the change 
 in their prospects. Others were busy making their little arrange- 
 ments with their wives or relations ; while the mass of the seamen, 
 not yet organized by discipline , or known to each other , were in 
 a state of disunion and individuality, which naturally induced 
 every man to look after himself without caring for his neighbour. 
 We therefore could not expect, nor did we receive, any sympathy; 
 we were in a scene of bustle and noise , yet alone. A spare top- 
 sail, which had been stowed for the present between two of the 
 guns , was the best accommodation which offered itself. We took 
 possession of it , and tired with exertion of mind and body, w ere 
 soon fast asleep. 
 
 21* 
 
324 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 There are many ups and downs in this world.— AVe find ourselves in the 
 Downs. — Our captain comes on hoard, and gives us a short sermon 
 upon antipathies, which most of us never heard the like of. — He 
 sets us all upon the go, with his stop watch, and never calls the 
 watch, until the watch is satisfied with all hands. 
 
 At daylight the next morning , we were awakened with a start 
 by the shrill whistles of the boatswain and his mates piping all 
 hands to unmoor. The pilot was on board , and the wind was fair. 
 As the frigate had no anchor down , but was hanging to the moor- 
 ings in the river, we had nothing to do, but to cast off, sheet 
 home, and in less than half an hour, we were under all sail, 
 stemming the last quarter of the flood tide. Tom and I had re- 
 mained on the gangway, watching the proceedings, but not 
 assisting, when the ship being fairly under sail, the order was 
 given by the first lieutenant to coil down the ropes. 
 
 "I think, Jacob, we may as well help," said Tom, laying 
 hold of the main tack, which was passed aft, and hauling it 
 forward. 
 
 **With all my heart,'* replied I, and I hauled it forward, 
 while he coiled it away. 
 
 While we were thus employed the first lieutenant walked for- 
 ward and recognised us. "That 's what Hike, my lads," said 
 he; you do'n't sulk , I see, and I sha' n't forget it." 
 
 hope you wo' n't forget that we are apprentices , Sir, and 
 allow us to go on shore ," replied I. 
 
 *' I 've a shocking bad memory in some things ," was his reply, 
 as he continued forward to the forecastle. He did not, however, 
 forget to victual us that day, and insert our names in pencil upon 
 the ship's books ; but we were not put into any mess , or sta- 
 tioned. 
 
 We anchored in the Downs on the following morning. It 
 came on to blow hard in the afternoon , and there was no commu- 
 nication with the shore , except by signals , until the third day, 
 when it moderated, and the signal was made, ''Prepare to weigh, 
 and send boat for captain." In the mean time, several boats 
 
325 
 
 came off, and one had a postman on board. I had letters from 
 Mr. Druramond and Mr. Turnbull, telling me that they would 
 immediately apply to the Admiralty for our being liberated , and 
 one from Mary, half of which was for me, and the rest to Tom. 
 Stapleton had taken Tom's wherry and pulled down to old Tom 
 Beazely, with my ctothes, which, with young Tom's had been 
 despatched to Deal. Tom had a letter from his mother, half in- 
 dited by his father, and the rest from herself; but I shall not 
 trouble the reader with the contents , as he may imagine what was 
 likely to be said upon such an occasion. 
 
 Shortly afterwards our clothes, which had been sent to the care 
 of an old shipmate of Tom's father, were brought on board, and we 
 hardly had received them, when the signal man reported that the 
 captain was coming off. There were so many of the men in the fri- 
 gate who had never seen the captain, that no little anxiety was shown 
 by the ship's company to ascertain how far , by the **cut of his 
 jib," that is, his outward appearance, they might draw con- 
 clusions as to what they might expect from one who had such un- 
 limited power to make them happy or miserable. I was looking 
 out of the maindeck port with Tom, when the gig pulled alongside, 
 and was about to scrutinize the outward and visible signs of the 
 captain , when I was attracted by the face of a lieutenant sitting by 
 his side, whom I immediately recognised. It was Mr. Wilson, 
 the officer who had spun the oar and sunk the wherry, from which, 
 as the reader may remember , I rescued my friends , the senior 
 and junior clerk. I was overjoyed at this, as I hoped that he 
 would interest himself in our favour. The pipe of the boatswain 
 re-echoed as the captain ascended the side. He appeared on the 
 quarter-deck — every hat descending to do him honour; the ma- 
 rines presented arms, and the marine officers at their head lowered 
 the point of his sword. In return, the omnipotent personage, 
 taking his cocked hat with two fingers and a thumb, by the highest 
 peak, lifted it one inch olF his head, and replaced it, desiring 
 the marine officer to dismiss the guard. I had now an opportunity, 
 as he paced to and fro with the first lieutenant, to examine his 
 appearance. He was a tall, very large boned , gaunt man, with 
 an enormous breadth of shoulders , displaying Herculean strength 
 
326 
 
 (and this we found he eminently possessed). His face was of a 
 size corresponding to his large frame; his features were harsh, 
 his eye piercing, but his nose, although bold, was handsome, 
 and his capacious mouth was furnished with the most splendid row 
 of large teeth that I ever beheld. The character of his countenance 
 was determination rather than severity. When he smiled, the 
 expression was agreeable. His gestures and his language were 
 emphatic , and the planks trembled with his elephantine walk. 
 
 He had been on board about ten minutes , when he desired 
 the first lieutenant to turn the hands up , and all the men were 
 ordered on the larboard side of the quarter-deck. As soon as they 
 were all gathered together, looking with as much awe on the 
 captain as a flock of sheep at a strange, mischief- meaning dog, 
 he thus addressed them. ' ' My lads , as it so happens that we are 
 all to trust to the same planks, it maybe just as well that we should 
 understand one another. I like to see my officers attentive to 
 their duty, and behave themselves as gentlemen. I like to see 
 my men well disciplined, active, and sober. What I like, I 
 Will have — you understand me. Now," continued he, putting 
 on a stern look — " now just look in my face , and see if you think 
 you can play with me." The men looked in his face, and saw 
 that there was no chance of playing with him ; and so they ex- 
 pressed by their countenances. The captain appeared satisfied by 
 their mute acknowledgments, and to encourage them, smiled, 
 and showed his white teeth , as he desired the first lieutenant to 
 pipe down. 
 
 As soon as this scene was over, I walked up to Mr. Wilson, 
 the lieutenant, who was standing aft, and accosted him. Per- 
 haps, Sir, you do not recollect me; but we met one night when 
 you were sinking in a wherry, and you asked my name." 
 
 And I recollect it, my lad; it was Faithful , was it not?" 
 
 **Yes, Sir," and I then entered into an explanation of our 
 circumstances , and requested his advice and assistance. 
 
 He shook his head. *'Our captain," said he, **is a very 
 strange person. He has commanding interest, and will do more 
 in defiance of the rules of the Admiralty, than any one in the 
 service. If an admiralty order came down to discharge you he 
 
327 
 
 would obey it; but as for regulations, he cares very little for them. 
 Besides, we sail in an hour. However, I will speak to him, 
 although I shall probably get a rap on the knuckles , as it is the 
 business of the first lieutenant, and not mine." 
 
 "But, Sir, if you requested the first lieutenant to speak?" 
 
 " If I did , he would not , in all probability ; men are too 
 Talu:able , and the first lieutenant knows that the captain would 
 not like to discharge you. He will therefore say nothing until it is 
 loo late , and then throw all the blame upon himself for forgetting 
 it. Our captain has such interest, that his recommendation 
 would give a commander's rank to-morrow, and we must all take 
 carc'Of ourselves. However, I will try, although I can give you 
 -very little hopes." 
 
 Mr. Wilson went up to the captain , who was still walking with 
 the fijrst lieutenant, and touching his hat, introduced the subject, 
 statiog , as an apology, that he was acquainted with me. 
 
 Oh , if the man is an acquaintance of yours , Mr. Wilson , we 
 certainly must decide," replied the captain with mock politeness. 
 
 Wtiere is he?" I advanced, and Tom followed me. We stated 
 our case. I always like to put people out of suspense ," said the 
 captain, ** because it unsettles a man — so now hear me; if I 
 happtmed to press one of the blood royal, and the king, and the 
 quecii, and all the little princesses were to go down on their knees, 
 I M keep him, without an Admiralty order for his discharge. Now, 
 my lads, do you perceive your chance?" Then turning away to 
 Mr. "VVilson, he said, *' You will oblige me by stating upon what 
 grouads you ventured to interfere in behalf of these men, and I 
 trust your explanation will be satisfactory. Mr. Knight," continued 
 he, to the first lieutenant , ** send these men down below, watch, 
 and sta tion them." 
 
 We went below by the gangway ladder , and watched the con- 
 ference between the captain and Mr. Wilson , who we were afraid 
 had dotie himself no good by trying to assist us. But when it was 
 over, the captain appeared pleased , and Mr. Wilson walked away 
 with a s atisfied air. As I afterwards discovered it did me no little 
 good. !Xhe hands were piped to dinner, and after dinner we 
 
328 
 
 weighed and made sail , and thus were Tom and I fairly, or rslher 
 unfairly, embarked in his majesty's service. 
 
 **Well, Tom," said I, *'it 's no use crying. What 's done 
 can't be helped ; here we are , now let us do all we can to make 
 friends." 
 
 That 's just my opinion , Jacob. Hang care , it killed the cat ; 
 I shall make the best of it, and I don't see why we may not be as 
 happy here as any where else. Father says we may, if we do our 
 duty, and I don't mean to shirk mine. The more the merrier, they 
 say, and I '11 be hanged but there 's enough of us here." 
 
 I hardly need say, that for the first three or four days we were 
 not very comfortable, we had been put into the seventh mess, and 
 were stationed in the fore-top ; for although we had not been re- 
 gularly bred up as seamen , the first lieutenant so decided , saying, 
 that he was sure that , in a few weeks , there would be no smarter 
 men in the ship. 
 
 We were soon clear of the channel , and all hands were anxious 
 to know our destination, which, in this almost solitary instance, 
 had really been kept a secret, although surmises were correct. 
 There is one point , which by the present arrangements invariably 
 makes known whether a ship is '* fitting foreign," or forliome 
 service , which is , by the stores and provisions ordered on board ; 
 and these stores are so arranged , according to the station to which 
 the vessel is bound, that it is generally pretty well known what her 
 destination is to be. This is bad, and at the same time easily re- 
 medied; for if every ship, whether for home service or foreign, 
 was ordered to fit foreign , no one ^ould be able to ascertain where 
 she was about to proceed. With a very little trouble strict secrecy 
 might be preserved , now that the Navy Board is abolished ; but 
 during its existence that was impossible. The ImmortaliK; was a 
 very fast sailing vessel, and when the captain (whose nam(» I have 
 forgotten to mention, it was Hector Maclean ,) opened his sealed 
 orders, we found that we were to cruise for two months ^between 
 the Western Isles and Madeira , in quest of some privateerf ; , which 
 had captured many of our outward bound West Indianifjn, not- 
 withstanding that they were well protected by convoy, ao.d, after 
 that period, to join the admiral at Halifax, and relieve a frigate 
 
329 
 
 which had been mauy years on that station. In a- week we were on 
 our station , the weather was fine , and the whole of the day was 
 passed in training the men to the guns , small arms , making and 
 shortening sail , reefing topsails, and manoeuvring the ship. The 
 captain would never give up his point, and sometimes we were 
 obliged to make or shorten sail tw enty times running until he was 
 satisfied. 
 
 **My lads," he would say to the ship's company, sending for 
 them aft, ** you have done this pretty well , you have only been two 
 minutes ; not bad for a new ship's company , but I like it done in 
 a minute and a h^lf. We '11 try again." And sure enough it was 
 try again, until in the minute and a half it was accomplished. Then 
 the captain would say, **I knew you could do it, and having once 
 done it, my lads , of course you can do it again." 
 
 Tom and I adhered to our good resolutions. We were as active 
 and as forward as we could be; and Mr. Knight, the first lieu- 
 tenant, pointed us out to the captain. As soon as the merits of the 
 different men w ere ascertained , several alterations were made in 
 the watch and station bills , as well as in the ratings on the ship's 
 books , and Tom and I were made second captains , larboard and 
 starboard , of th<3 fore-top. This was great promotion for so young 
 hands, especially as we were not bred as regular sailors; but it 
 was for the activity and zeal which we displayed. Tom was a great 
 favourite among the men , always joking, and ready for any lark or 
 nonsense; moreover he used to mimic the captain, which few 
 others dared do. He certainly seldom ventured to do it below; it 
 was generally in the foretop, where he used to explain to the men 
 what he liked. One day we both ventured it, but it was on an 
 occasion which excused it. Tom and I were aft , sitting in the jolly 
 boat astern , fitting sonfie of her gear , for we belonged to the boat at 
 that time, although we were afterwards shifted into the cutter. 
 The frigate was going about four knots through the water, and the 
 sea was pretty smooth. One of the marines fell overboard, out of 
 the forechains. **Man overboard," was cried out immediately, 
 and the men were busy clearing away the starboard cutter, with all 
 the expedition requisite on such an occasion. The captain was 
 standing aft on the signal chest , when the marine passed astern ; 
 
330 
 
 the poor fellow could not swim , and Tom turning to me said / "Ja- 
 cob, I should like to save that Jolly," and immediately dashed 
 overboard^ 
 
 "And I should like to help you, Tom," cried I, and followed 
 him. 
 
 The captain was close to us , and heard us both. Between us, 
 we easily held up the marine , and the boat had us all on board in 
 less than a minute. When we came up the side , the captain was 
 at the gangway. He showed his white teeth , and shook the tele- 
 scope in his hand at us. "I heard you both; and I should like to 
 have a good many more impudent fellows like you." 
 
 We continued our cruise, looking sharp out for the privateers, 
 but without success : we then touched at Madeira for intelligence, 
 and w ere informed that they had been seen more to the southward. 
 The frigate's head was turned in that direction until we were 
 abreast of the Canary Isles, and then we traversed east and west, 
 north or south , just as the wind and weather, or the captain's like 
 — thought proper. We had now cruised seven weeks out of our time 
 without success, and the captain promised five guineas to the man 
 who should discover the objects of our search. Often did Tom and 
 I climb to the mast-head and scan the horizon , and so did many 
 others : but those who were stationed at the look-out were equally 
 on the alert. The ship's company were now in a very fair state of 
 discipline , owing to the incessant practice , and every evening the 
 hands were turned up to skylark , that is , to play and amuse them- 
 selves. There was one amusement which was the occasion of a 
 great deal of mirth , and it was a favourite one of the captain's, as it 
 made the men smart. It is called "Follow my leader." One of 
 the men leads , and all who choose, follow him : sometimes forty or 
 flfty will join. Whatever the leader does, the rest must do also; 
 wherever he goes they must follow. Tom , who was always the 
 foremost for fun, was one day the leader, and after having scam- 
 pered up the rigging, laid out on the yards , climbed in by the lifts, 
 crossed from mast to mast by the stays, slid down by the back- 
 stays , blacked his face in the funnel , in all which motions he was 
 followed by about thirty others , hallowing and laughing, while the 
 officers and other men were looking on and admiring their agility, 
 
331 
 
 a n©yel idea came into Tom's head ; it was then about seven o'clock 
 in the evening, the ship was lying becalmed , Tom again sprung up 
 the rigging , laid out to the main yard-arm , followed by me and the 
 rest , and as soon as he was at the boom iron , he sprung up , hold- 
 ing by the lift, and crying out, *' Follow my leader," leaped from 
 the yard-arm into the sea. I was second , and crying out, ** Follow 
 my leader" to the rest, I followed him, and the others , whether 
 they could swim or not , did the same , it being a point of honour 
 not to refuse. 
 
 The captain was just coming up the ladder, when he saw, as 
 he imagined, a man tumble overboard, which was Tom in his 
 descent; but how much more was he astonished at seeing twenty 
 or thirty more tumbling otf by twos or threes, until it appeared that 
 half the ship's company were overboard. He thought that they 
 were possessed with devils, like the herd of swine in the Scrip- 
 tures. Some of the men who could not swim , but were too proud 
 to refuse to follow , were nearly drowned. As it was the lirst lieu- 
 tenant was obliged to lower the cutter to pick them up , and they 
 were all brought on board. 
 
 **Confound that fellow," said the captain to the first lieutenant, 
 **he is always at the head of all mischief. Follow my leader, in- 
 deed ! Send Tom Beazeley here." We all thought that Tom was 
 about to catch it. **Hark ye, my lad," said the captain, **a 
 joke's a joke, but every body can't swim as well as you. I can't 
 afford to lose any of my men by your pranks, so don't try that again 
 — I don't like it." 
 
 Every one thought that Tom got off very cheaply; but he was a 
 favourite with the captain , although that never appeared but indi- 
 rectly. **Beg pardon, Sir," replied Tom, with great apparent hu- 
 mility, '*but they were all so dirty — they 'd blacked themselves at 
 the funnel , and I thought a little washing would not do them any 
 harm." 
 
 **Be off. Sir, and recollect what I have said," replied the cap- 
 tain , turning away , and showing his white teeth. 
 
 I heard the first lieutenant say to the captain, **He 's worth any 
 ten men in the ship , Sir. He keeps them all alive and merry, and 
 sets such a good exanfiple." 
 
332 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 **To be, or not to be," that is the question. — Splinters on board 
 of a man-of-M-ar, very different from splinters in the finger on 
 shore. — Tom prevents this narrative from being wound up fty my 
 going down. — I receive a lawyer's letter, and instead of being 
 annoyed, am delighted with it. 
 
 In the mean time Tom had gone up to the fore-royal yard, and 
 was looking round for the five guineas, and just as the conversa- 
 tion was going on , cried out, *'Sail, ho!" 
 Strange sail reported." 
 
 '* Where? " cried the first lieutenant, going forward. 
 Right under the sun." 
 
 "Mast-head there — do you make her out?" 
 
 **Yes, Sir; 1 think she 's a schooner; but I can only see down 
 to her mainyard." 
 
 "That 's one of them, depend upon it," said the captain. "Up 
 there , Mr. Wilson , and see what you make of her. Who is the 
 man who reported it?" 
 
 "TomBeazeley, Sir." 
 
 " Confound the fellow, he makes all my ship's company jump 
 overboard , and now I must give him five guineas. What do you 
 make of her, Mr. Wilson?" 
 
 "A low schooner, Sir, very rakish indeed, black sides. I can- 
 not make out her ports; but I should think she can show a very 
 pretty set of teeth. She is becalmed as well as we." 
 
 "Well, then, we must whistle for a breeze. In the mean time, 
 Mr. Knight , we will have the boats all ready." 
 
 If you whistle long enough the wind is certain to come. In 
 about an hour the breeze ditl come , and we took it down with us ; 
 but it was too dark to distinguish the schooner , which we had lost 
 sight of as soon as the sun had set. About midnight the Jjreeze 
 failed us , and it was again calm . The captain and most of the of- 
 ficers were up all night, and the watch were employed preparing 
 the boats for service. It was my morning watch , and at break of 
 day I saw the schooner from the foretop-sail-yar9, about four miles 
 to the N. W. I ran down on deck , and reported her. 
 
333 
 
 Very good , my lad. I have her, Mr. Knight/' said the cap- 
 tain, who had directed his glass to where I pointed; *'aud I will 
 have her too, one way or the other. No signs of wind. Lower down 
 the cutters. Get the yards and stays hooked all ready. We '11 
 wait a little, and see a little more of her when it 's broad day- 
 light." 
 
 At broad daylight the schooner, with her appointments, was 
 distinctly to be made out. She was pierced for sixteen guns , and 
 was a formidable vessel to encounter with the boats. The calm 
 still continuing, the launch , yawl and pinnace , were hoisted out, 
 manned , and armed. The schooner got out her sweeps, and was 
 evidently preparing for their reception. Still the captain appeared 
 unwilling to risk the lives of his men in such a dangerous conflict, 
 and there we all lay alongside, each man sitting in his place with 
 his oar raised on end. Cat's-paws of wind, as they call them, flew 
 across the water here and there , ruffling its smooth surface , por- 
 tending that a breeze would soon spring up , and the hopes of this 
 chance rendered the captain undecided. Thus did we remain 
 alongside , for Tom and I were stationed in the first and second 
 cutters , until twelve o'clock , when we were ordered out to take a 
 hasty dinner, and the allowance of spirits was served out. At one, 
 it was still calm. Had we started when the boats were first hoisted 
 out, the affair would have been long before decided. At last, the 
 captain perceiving that the chance of a breeze was still smaller then, 
 than in the forenoon, ordered the boats to shove off. We were still 
 about the same distance from the privateer , from three and a half 
 to four miles. In less than half an hour we were within gun-shot; 
 the privateer swept her broadside to us , and commenced firing 
 guns with single round shot, and with great precision. They ri- 
 cochetted over the boats, and at every shot, we made sure of our 
 being struck. At this time a slight breeze swept along the water. 
 It reached the schooner, filled her sails, and she increased her dis- 
 tance. Again it died away, and we neared her fast. She swept 
 round again, and recommenced firing, and one of her shot passed 
 through the second cutter, in which I was stationed , ripping open 
 three of her planks, and wounding two men besides me. The boat, 
 heavy with the gun , ammunition chests, itc, immediately filled 
 
334 
 
 and turned over with us , and it was with difficulty that we could 
 escape from the weighty hamper that was poured out of her. One 
 of the poor fellows , who had not been wounded , remained en- 
 tangled under the boat, and never rose again. The remainder of 
 the crew rose to the surface and clung to the side of the boat. The 
 first cutter hauled to our assistance, for we had separated to render 
 the shot less effectual ; but it was three or four minutes before she 
 was able to render us any assistance , during which time the other 
 two wounded men , who had been apparently injured in the legs or 
 body, exhausted with loss of blood, gradually unloosed their holds 
 and disappeared under the calm blue water. I had received a 
 splinter in my left arm, and held no longer than the others who had 
 been maimed; but I could not hold on till the cutter came; I lost 
 my recollection, and sank. Tom, who was in the bow of the cutter, 
 perceiving me to go down, dived after me, brought me up again to 
 the surface, and we were both hauled in. The other five men were 
 also saved. As soon as we were picked up, the cutter followed the 
 other boats , which continued to advance towards the privateer. I 
 recovered my senses , and found that a piece of one of the thwarts 
 of the boat, broken off by the shot, had been forced through the 
 fleshy part of my arm below the elbow, where it still remained. It 
 was a very dangerous as well as a painful wound. The officer of 
 the boat, without asking me, laid hold of the splinter and tore it 
 out ; but the pain was so great, from its jagged form, and the effu- 
 sion of blood so excessive after this operation , that I again fainted. 
 Fortunately no artery was wounded , or I must have lost my arm. 
 They bound it up, and laid me at the bottom of the boat. The firing 
 from the schooner was now very warm ; and we were within a 
 quarter of a mile of her, when the breeze sprang up , and she in- 
 creased her distance a mile. There was a prospect of wind from 
 the appearance of the sky, although, for a time, it again died away. 
 We were within less than half a mile of the privateer, when we per- 
 ceived that the frigate was bringing up a smart breeze, and rapidly 
 approached the scene of conflict. 
 
 The breeze swept along the water and caught the sails of the 
 privateer, and she was again, in spite of all the exertions of our 
 wearied men, out of gun-shot; and the first lieutenant verj pro- 
 
335 
 
 perly decided upon making for the frigate, which was now within a 
 mile of us. in less than ten minutes the boats were hoisted in, and . 
 the wind now rising fast, we were under all sail , going at the rate 
 of seyen miles an hour ; the privateer having also gained the breeze, 
 and gallantly holding her own. 
 
 I was taken down into the cockpit, the only wounded man 
 brought on board. The surgeon examined my arm, and at first 
 shook his head, and I expected immediate amputation; but on 
 re -examination he gave his opinion that the limb might be saved. 
 My wound was dressed, and I was put into my hammock, in a 
 screened bulk under the half- deck , where the cooling breeze from 
 the ports fanned my feverish cheeks. But I must return to the 
 chace. 
 
 In less than an hour the wind had increased , so that we could 
 with difficulty carry our royals ; the privateer was holding her own 
 about three miles right a-head , keeping our three masts in one. 
 At sun -set they were forced to take in the royals , and the sky gave 
 every prospect of a rough gale. Still we carried on every stitch of 
 canvas which the frigate could bear; keeping the chace in sight 
 with our night glasses , and watching all her motions. 
 
 The breeze increased; before morning there was a heavy sea, 
 and the frigate could only carry top -gallant sails over double- 
 reefed topsails. At daylight we had neared the schooner, by the 
 sextants, about a quarter of a mile, and the captain and officers • 
 went down to take some repose and refreshment , not having quil- 
 ted the deck for twenty-four hours. All that day did we chase the 
 privateer, without gaining more than a mile upon her, and it now 
 blew up a furious gale: the top -gallant sails had been before ta- 
 ken in ; the topsails were close reefed , and we were running at the 
 speed of nearly twelve miles an hour ; still so well did the privateer 
 sail , that she was barely within gunshot , when the sun went down 
 below the horizon , angry and fiery red. There was now great fear 
 that she would escape , from the difficulty of keeping the glasses 
 upon her during the night , in a heavy sea , and the expectation 
 that she would furl all and allow us to pass her. It appeared, how- 
 ever, that this manoeuvre did not enter into the head of the captain 
 of the privateer ; he stood on under a press of sail , w hich even iu 
 
336 
 
 day-time would have been considered alarmiug; and at daylight, 
 owing to the steering during night never being so correct as du- 
 ring the day , she had recovered her distance , and was about four 
 miles from us. The gale , if any thing , had increased , and Cap- 
 tain Maclean determined , nothwithstanding , to shake a reef out 
 of the topsails. 
 
 In the morning, as usual, Tom came to my cot, and asked 
 me how I was? I told him I was better and in less pain, and that 
 the surgeon had promised to dress my wound after breakfast, for 
 the bandages had not been removed since I had first come on 
 board. And the privateer, Tom, I hope we shall take her; it 
 will be some comfort to me that she is captured." 
 
 **I think, we shall, if the masts stand, Jacob; but we have 
 an enormous press of sail , as you may guess , by the way in which 
 the frigate jumps ; there is no standing on the forecastle, and there 
 is a regular waterfall down in the waist from forward. We are 
 nearing her now. It is beautiful to see how she behaves : when 
 she heels over, we can perceive that all her men are lashed on 
 deck, and she takes whole seas into her fore and aft mainsail , and 
 pours them out again as she rises from the lurch. She deserves to 
 escape , at all events." 
 
 She did rtot, however, obtain her deserts, for about twelve 
 o'clock in the day we were withiu a mile of her. At two, the 
 marines were firing small arms at her , for we would not yaw to fire 
 at her a gun , although she was right under our bows. When with- 
 in a cable's length we shortened sail , so as to keep at that 
 distance astern, and the chace, after having lost several men by 
 musketry , the captain of her waved his hat in token of surrender. 
 We immediately shortened sail to keep the weather gage , pelting 
 her until every sail was lowered down : we then rounded to , keep- 
 ing her under our lee, and firing at every man who made his 
 appearance on deck. Taking possession of her was a difficult 
 task: a boat could hardly live in such a sea; and when the captain 
 called aloud for volunteers , and I heard Tom's voice in the cutter 
 as it was lowering down , my heart misgave me lest he should meet 
 with some accident. At last I knew, from the conversation on 
 deck, that the cutter had got safe on board, and my mind was 
 
337 
 
 relieved. The surgeon came up and dressed my arm, and I then 
 received comparative bodily as well as mental relief. 
 
 It was not until the next day, when we lay to, with the schooner 
 close to us, that the weather became sufficiently moderate to 
 enable us to receive the prisoners and put our own men and offi- 
 cers on board. The prize proved to be an American built schooner, 
 fitted out as a French privateer. She was called the Cerf Agile, 
 mounting fourteen guns , of nearly three hundred tons measure- 
 ment , and with a crew of one hundred and seventy men , of which 
 forty-eight were away in prizes. It was , perhaps , fortunate that 
 the boats were not able to attack her , as they would have received 
 a very warm reception. Thus did we succeed in capturing this 
 mischievous vessel, after a chace of two hundred and seventy 
 miles. As soon as all the arrangements were made, we shaped our 
 course , with the privateer in company , for Halifax , where we ar- 
 rived in about five weeks. My wound was now nearly healed ; but 
 my arm had wasted away , and I was unable to return to my duty. 
 It was well known that I wrote a good hand , and I volunteered , as 
 I could do nothing else , to assist the purser and the clerk with 
 the ship's books , (fcc. 
 
 The admiral was at Bermuda , and the frigate which we were 
 to relieve had, from the exigence of the service , been despatched 
 down to the Honduras, and was not expected back for some 
 months. We sailed from Halifax for Bermuda, and joined the 
 admiral , and after three weeks , we were ordered on a cruize. My 
 arm was now perfectly recovered , but I had become so useful 
 in the clerk's office , that I was retained , much against my own 
 wishes: but the captain liked it, as Tom said, and after that, 
 there was no more to be said about the matter. 
 
 America was not the seat of war at that period , and , with the 
 exception of chasing French runners , there was nothing to be done 
 on the North American station. I have , therefore , little to narrate 
 during the remainder of the time that I was on board of the frigate. 
 Tom did his duty in the foretop , and never was in any disgrace ; 
 on the contrary, he was a great favourite both with officers and 
 men , and took more liberties with the captain than any one else 
 dared to have done ; but Captain Maclean knew that Tom was one 
 
 Jacob Faithful, 22 
 
338 
 
 of his foremost and best men, always active, zealous, and in- 
 different as to danger , and Tom knew exactly how far he could 
 venture to play with him. I remained in the clerk's office, and as 
 it was soon discovered that I received an excellent education , and 
 always behaved myself respectfully to my superiors , I was kindly 
 treated , and had no reason to complain of a man-of-war. 
 
 Such w^as the state of affairs , when the other frigate arrived 
 from the Honduras , and we , who had been cruising for the last 
 four months in Boston Bay, were ordered in by a culter, to join 
 the admiral at Halifax. We had now been nearly a year from Eng- 
 land without receiving any letters. The reader may , therefore, 
 judge of my impatience when , after the anchor had been let go and 
 the sails furled, the admiral's boat came on board with several 
 bags of letters for the officers and ship's company. They were 
 handed down into the gun-room, and I waited with impatience 
 for the sorting and distribution. 
 
 *'Faithful," said the purser, **here are two letters for you." 
 
 I thanked him, and hastened into the clerk's office, that I 
 might read them without interruption. The first was addressed 
 in a formal hand quite unknown to me. I opened it with son%€ 
 degree of wonderment, as to who could possibly write to so humble 
 an individual? It was from a lawyer, and the contents were as 
 follows : — 
 
 "Sir, — We hasten to advise you of the death of your good 
 friend Mr. Alexander Tiirnbull. By his will, wlUch has been opened 
 and read, and of which you are the executor, lie has made you his 
 sole heir, bequeathinj? you, at the present, the sum of 30,000/., 
 with the remainder of his fortune at the demise of his wife. With 
 the exception of 5000/., left to Mrs. Turnbull for her own disposal, 
 the legacies do not amount to more than 800/. The jointure, arising 
 from the interest of the money secured to Mrs. Turnbull during her 
 life, is 1080/. per annum, upon the 3 per cent, consols, so that at 
 her demise you will come into 36,000/. consols, which at 76, will 
 he equal to 27,360/. sterling. I beg to congratulate you upon your 
 good fortune, and, with Mr. Drummond, have made application to 
 the Admiralty for your discharge. This application , I am happy to 
 say, has been immediately attended to, and by the same mail that 
 conveys this letter, is forwarded an order for your discharge and a 
 
SS9 
 
 passage home. Should you think proper fo treaf our firm as your 
 legal advisers, we shall be most happy to enrol you among our 
 clients. 
 
 "lam, Sir, 
 Yours very respectfully, 
 
 "John Fjletcher." 
 
 I must leave the reader to judge of this unexpected and wel- 
 c,ome communication. At first I was so stunned , that I appeared 
 as a statue with the letter in my hand, and in this condition 1 
 remained until roused by the first lieutenant, who had come to the 
 office to desire me to pass the word for ** letters for England and 
 to desire the sail-maker to make a bag. 
 
 *' Faithful — why what 's the matter? Are you ill , or — ? " I 
 could not reply, but I put the letter into his hand. He read the 
 contents, expressing his astonishment by occasional exclamations. 
 *'I wish you joy, my lad, and may it be my turn next time. No 
 wonder you looked like a stuck pig. Had I received such news, 
 the captain might have hallooed till he was hoarse , and the ship 
 might have tumbled overboard , before I should have roused my- 
 self. Well, I suppose we shall get no more work out of you — " 
 
 *'The captain wants you, Mr. Knight,*' said one of the 
 midshipmen, touching his hat. 
 
 Mr. Knight went into the cabin, and in a few minutes returned, 
 holding the order for my dicharge in his hand. 
 
 ** It 's all right. Faithful, here is your discharge, and an order 
 for your passage home." 
 
 He laid it on the table and then went away, for a first lieutenant 
 in harbour has no time to lose. The next person who came was 
 Tom, holding in his hand a letter from Mary, with a postscript 
 from his mother. 
 
 *'Well, Jacob,*' said he, ''I have news to tell you. Mary 
 says that Mr. Turnbull is dead, and has left her father 200 and 
 that she has been told that he has left you something handsome." 
 
 *' He has indeed, Tom," replied I; **read this letter." 
 
 While Tom was reading, I perceived the letter from Mr. Drum- 
 mond, which I had forgotten. I opened it. It communicated the 
 same intelligence as that of the lawyer, in fewer words ; recom- 
 
 • 52* 
 
340 
 
 mended my immediate return , and inclosed a bill upon his house 
 for 100 i to enable me to appear in a manner coi responding to my 
 present condition. 
 
 *'Well," said Tom, "this is, indeed, good news, Jacob. 
 You are a gentleman , at last , as you deserve to be. It has made 
 me so happy; what do you mean to do?" 
 
 "I have my discharge here," replied I, **and am ordered a 
 passage home." 
 
 "Better still. I am so happy, Jacob ; so happy. But what i s 
 to become of me ? " And Tom passed the back of his hand across 
 his eyes to brush away a tear. 
 
 *' You shall soon follow me, Tom, if I can manage it either by 
 money or any influence." 
 
 "I will manage it, if you don't, Jacob. I won't stay here 
 without you, that I am determined." 
 
 "Do nothing rashly, Tom. I am sure I can buy your 
 discbarge, and on my arrival in Enghmd I will not think of any 
 thing else until it is done." 
 
 "You must be quick , then , Jacob , for I 'm sure I can't stay 
 here long." 
 
 "Trust to me, Tom ; you '11 still find me Jacob Faithful," said 
 I, extending my hand. Tom squeezed it earnestly, and with 
 moistened eyes, turned away, and walked forward. 
 
 The news had spread through the ship, and many of the officers, 
 as well as the men , came to congratulate me. What would I have 
 given to have been allowed only one half hour to myself — one half 
 hour in which I might be permitted to compose my excited feelings 
 — to have returned thanks for such unexpected happiness, and 
 paid a tribute to the memory of so sincere a friend. But in a ship 
 this is almost impossible, unless , as an officer, you can retreat to 
 your own cabin ; and those gushings from the heart, arising from 
 grief, or pleasure, the tears so sweet in solitude, must be pro- 
 stituted before the crowd, or altogether repressed. At last the 
 wished-for opportunity did come. Mr, Wilson, who had been 
 away on service , came to congratulate me as soon as he heard the 
 news, and with an instinctive perception of what might be my feel- 
 ings , aske^ me whether I would not like to write my letters in his 
 
341 
 
 cabin, which, for a few hours , was at my service. I thankfully 
 accepted the offer; and, when summoned by the captain , had re- 
 lieved my overcharged heart , and had composed my excited 
 feelings. 
 
 ** Jacob Faithful, you are aware there is an order for your 
 discharge," said he, kindly. You will be discharged this after- 
 noon into the Astrea; she is ordered home, and will sail with 
 despatches in a few days. You have conducted yourself well since 
 you have been under my command ; and , although you are now in 
 a situation not to require a good certificate , still you will have the 
 satisfaction of feeling that you have done your duty in the station of 
 life to which you have , for a certain portion of it , been called — I 
 wish you well." 
 
 Although Captain Maclean, in what he said, never lost sight of 
 the relative situations in which we had been placed , there was a 
 kindness of manner, especially in the last words, "I wish you 
 well," which went to my heart. I replied that I had been very 
 iappy during the time I had been under his command, and thanked 
 him for his good wishes. I then bowed and left the cabin. Cut 
 the captain did not send me on board the Astrea, although I was 
 discharged into her. He told the first lieutenant that I had better 
 go on shore, and equip myself in a proper manner; and, as I 
 afterwards found out, spoke of me in very favourable terms to the 
 captain of the Astrea , acknowledging that I had received the edu- 
 cation of a getnleman, and had been illegally impressed ; so that, 
 when I made my appearance on board the Astrea , the officers of 
 the gun-room requested that I would mess with them during the 
 passage home. 
 
 I went on shore, obtained the money for my bill , hastened to a 
 tailor, and with hisexertions, and other fitting-out people, procured 
 all that was requisite for the outward appearance of a gentleman. 
 I then returned to the Immortalite, and bade farewell to the officers 
 and seamen with whom I had been most intimate. My parting 
 with Tom was painful. Even the few days which I had been away, 
 I perceived, had made an alteration in his appearance. 
 
 * ' Jacob , " said he , ' * don't think I envy you ; on the contrary, 
 I am as grateful, even more grateful, than if such good fortune had 
 
342 
 
 fallen to my own lot; but I cannot help fretting at the thoughts of 
 being left here without you : and I shall fret until I am with you 
 again. 
 
 I renewed my promises to procure his discharge , and forcing 
 upon him all the money I thought that I could spare , I went over 
 the side as much affected as poor Tom. Our passage home was 
 rapid. We had a continuance of N. W. winds, and we flew before 
 them, and, in less than three weeks, we dropped our anchor at 
 Spithead. Happy in the change of my situation , and happier still 
 in anticipation, I shall only say, that I never was in better spirits, 
 or in company with more agreeable young men than were the 
 officers of the Astrea ; and although we were so short a time to- 
 gether, we separated with mutual regret. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 I interniiit a matrimonial duet and capsise the boat. — Being on dry 
 land, no one is drowned. — Tom leaves a man-of-war because he don't 
 like it. — 1 find the profession of a gentleman preferable to that 
 of a waterman. 
 
 My first object, on my return, was to call upon old Tom , and 
 assure him of his son's welfare. My wishes certainly would have 
 led me to Mr. Drummond's , but I felt that my duty required that I 
 should delay that pleasure. I arrived at the hotel late in the even- 
 ing, and early next morning I went down to the steps at West- 
 minster Bridge, and was saluted with the usual cry of *'Boat, 
 Sir?'* A crowd of recollections poured into my mind at the well- 
 known sound ; my life appeared to have passed in review in a few 
 seconds , as I took my seat in the stern of a wherry , and directed 
 the waterman to pull up the river. It was a beautiful morning, 
 and even at that early hour almost too warm , the sun was so pow- 
 erful. I watched every object that we passed with an interest 1 
 cannot describe ; every tree, — every building, — every point of 
 land; they were all old friends , who appeared, as the sun shone 
 brightly on them, to rejoice in my good fortune. I remained in a 
 reverie too delightful to wish to be disturbed from it, although oc- 
 casionally there were reminiscences which were painful; but they 
 
343 
 
 were but as light clouds, obscuring for a moment, as Ihey flew 
 past, the glorious sun of my happiness. At last the well-known 
 tenement of old Tom , his large board with **Boats built to order," 
 and the half of the boat stuck up on end, caught my sight, and I 
 remembered the object of my embarkation. I directed the water- 
 man to pull to the hard , and paying him well , dismissed him, for 
 I had perceived that old Tom was at work stumping round a 
 wherry, bottom up, and his wife was sitting on the bench in the 
 boat-arbour, basking in the warm sun, and working away at her 
 nets. I had landed so quietly, and they both were so occupied 
 with their respective employments , that they had not perceived 
 me, and I crept round by the house to surprise them. I had 
 gained a station behind the old boat , where I overheard the con- 
 versation. 
 
 It 's my opinion said old Tom, who left off hammering for 
 a time, **that all the nails in Birmingham won't make this boat 
 water-tight. The limbers are as rotten as a pear , and the nails fall 
 through them. I have put in one piece more than agreed for, and 
 if I don't put in another here , she '11 never swim." 
 
 **Well, then, put another piece in ," replied Mrs. Beazeley. 
 
 '*Yes, so I will; but, I 've a notion I shall be out of pocket by 
 the job — 7s. 6rf. won't pay for labour and all. However, never 
 mind ," and Tom carolled forth 
 
 *' Is not the sea 
 
 Made for the free,. 
 Land for courts and chains alone! 
 
 There we are slaves, 
 
 But on the waves 
 Love and liberty *8 all our own.'* 
 
 *'Now, if you do sing, sing truth, Beazeley," said the old 
 woman. A'n't our boy pressed into the service — and how can 
 you talk of liberty?" 
 
 Old Tom answered by continuing his song : 
 
 "No eye to watch, and no tongue to wound lis, 
 All earth forgot and all heaven around us." 
 
 *' Yes , yes ," replied the old woman , ** no eye to watch , in- 
 deed ; he may be in sickness and in sorrow — he may be wounded, 
 or dying of a fever, — and there 's no mother's eye to watch over 
 
344 
 
 him. As to all on earth being forgot , I won't believe that Tom has 
 forgotten his mother." 
 Old Tom replied , 
 
 "Seasons may roll, 
 But the true spul 
 Burns the same wherever it goes." 
 
 " So it does , Tom , so it does , and he 's thinking this mo- 
 ment of his father and mother, I do verily believe, and he loves 
 us more than ever." 
 
 So I believe," replied old Tom, *'that is, if he hasn't any 
 thing better to do ; but there's a time for all things, and when a 
 man is doing his duty as a seaman , he mustn't let his thoughts 
 wander. Never fear , old woman , he '11 be back again. 
 
 •♦There 's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft, 
 To take care of the life of poor Jack." 
 
 God grant it , God grant it ! " replied the old woman , wiping 
 her eyes with her apron, and then resuming her netting. *'He 
 seems," continued she, **by his letters, to be overfond of that 
 girl, Mary Stapleton, and I sometimes think that she cares not a 
 little for him , but she 's nevef^of one mind long. I didn't like to 
 see her flaunting and flirting so with the soldiers , and at the same 
 time Tom says that she writes that she cares for nobody but him." 
 
 ** Women are — women! that's sartain," replied old Tom, 
 musing for a time , and then showing that his thoughts were run- ? 
 ning on his son , by bursting out , 
 
 "Mary, when yonder boundless sea 
 Shall part us , and perchance for ever, 
 Think not my heart can stray from thee, 
 Or cease to mourn thine Absence — neveK 
 And when in distant climes 1 rohm, 
 Forlorn, unfriended, broken-hearted, — 
 
 *'Don*t say so, Tom — don't say so," interrupted the old 
 woman. 
 
 Tom continued, 
 
 " Oft shall I sigh for thee and home, 
 And all those joys for which 1 parted." 
 
 * ' Aye , SO he does , poor fellow , I '11 be bound to say. What 
 would I give to see his dear smiling face ! " said Mrs. Beazeley. 
 
345 
 
 *'And I 'd give no little, missus, myself. But still it 's the 
 duty for every man to serve his country , and so ought Tom , as his 
 father did before him. I shall be glad to see him' back , but I 'm 
 not sorry that he 's gone. Our ships must be manned, old wo- 
 man , and if they take men by force , it 's only because they won't 
 volunteer, that's all. When they're once on board, they don't 
 mind it. You women require pressing just as much as the men, 
 and it 's all much of a muchness." 
 
 *'How'sthat, Tom?" 
 
 ''Why when we make love, and ask you to marry, don't you 
 always pout and say no? You like being kissed , but we must take 
 it by force. So it is with manning a ship , the men all say no ; but 
 when they are once there, they like the service very much, only 
 you see , like you , they want pressing. Don't Tom write and say 
 that he 's quite happy, and don't care where he is so long as he 's 
 with Jacob?" 
 
 ''Yes , that 's true ! but they say Jacob is to be discharged and 
 come home , now that he 's come to a fortune , and what will Tom 
 say then?" 
 
 "Why that is the worst of it. I believe that Jacob 's heart is 
 in the right place; but still riches spoil a man; but we shall see. 
 If Jacob don't prove ' true blue I 'II never put faith in man again ; 
 but there be changes in this world , that *s sartin." 
 
 " We all have our taste of the ups and the downs, 
 As Fortune dispenses her smiles and her frowns; 
 But may we not hope , if she 's frowning to-day, 
 That to-morrow she '11 lend us the light of her ray ? " 
 
 * ' I only wish Jacob was here , that 's all ." 
 
 "Then you have your wish, my good old friend," cried I, 
 running up to Tom, and seizing his hand; but old Tom was so 
 taken by surprise that he started back , and lost his equilibrium, 
 dragging me after him , and we rolled on the turf together. Nor 
 was this the only accident, for old Mrs. Beazeley was so alarmed 
 that she also sprang from the bench fiied in the half of the old boat 
 stuck on end , and threw herself back against it. The boat , rotten 
 whenflrst put up, and with the disadvantage of exposure to the 
 elements for many years , could no longer stand such pressure. It 
 
346 
 
 gave way to the sudden force applied by the old woman , and she 
 and the boat went down together, she screaming and scruflling 
 among the rotten planks, which now, after so many years' close 
 intimacy, were induced to part company. I was first on my legs, 
 and ran to the assistance of Mrs. Beazeley, who was half smothered 
 with dust and flakes of dry pitch, and old Tom coming to my 
 assistance , we put the old woman on her legs again. 
 
 "0 deary me!'* cried the old woman, **0 deary me! I do 
 believe my hip is out. Lord , Mr. Jacob , how you frightened me ! " 
 
 **Yes," said old Tom, shaking me warmly by the hand, *'wc 
 were all taken aback, old boat and all. What a shindy you have 
 made, bowling us all down like nine pins! Well! my boy, I'm 
 glad to see you, and notwithstanding your gear, you're Jacob 
 Faithful still." 
 
 *' I hope so,'* replied I; and we then adjourned to the house, 
 where I made them acquainted with all that had passed , and what 
 I intended to do relative to obtaining Tom's discharge. I then left 
 them , promising to return soon ; and hailing a wherry going up 
 the river, proceeded to my old friend Domine, of whose welfare, 
 as well as Stapleton's and Mary's , I had been already assured. 
 
 But as I passed through Putney Bridge I thought I might as 
 well call first upon old Stapleton , and I desired the waterman to 
 pull in. I hastened to Stapleton's lodgings, and went up stairs, 
 where I found Mary in earnest conversation with a very good-look- 
 ing young man , in a Serjeant's uniform of the 93rd regiment. 
 Mary , who was even handsomer than when I had left her, starting 
 up, at first did not appear to recognise me, then coloured up to 
 tlie forehead as she welcomed me with a constraint I had never 
 witnessed before. The Serjeant appeared inclined to keep his 
 ground ; but on my taking her hand and telling her that I brought 
 a message from a person whom I trusted she had not forgotten , he 
 gave her a nod and walked down stairs. Perhaps there was a se- 
 verity in my countenance as I said, *'Mary, I do not know whe- 
 ther, after what I have seen, I ought to give the message; and 
 the pleasure I anticipated in meeting you again is destroyed by 
 what I have now witnessed. How disgraceful is it thus to play 
 with a man's feelings — to write to him, assuring him of your 
 
347 
 
 regard and constancy, and at the same time, encouraging 
 another/' 
 
 Mary hung down her head. ** If I have done wrong, Mr. Faith- 
 Cul," said she, after a pause, ''I have not wronged Tom; what 
 I have written , I felt." 
 
 *'If that is the case, why do you wrong another person? why 
 encourage another young man only to make him unhappy?" 
 
 *'I have promised him nothing; but why does not Tom come 
 back and look after me? I can't mope here by myself; I have 
 no one to keep company with; my father is always away at the 
 alehouse, and I must have somebody to talk to. Besides, Tom 
 is away, and may be away a long while, and absence cures love 
 in men , although it does not in women." 
 
 *'It appears, then, Mary, that you wish to have two strings 
 to your bow in case of accident." 
 
 ** Should the first string break, a second would be very accept- 
 able," replied Mary. **But it is always this way," continued 
 she, with increasing warmth; **I never can be in a situation 
 which is not right; whenever I do any thing which may appear 
 improper, so certain do you make your appearance when least 
 expected and least wished for — as if you were born to be my 
 constant accuser." 
 
 **Does not your own conscience accuse you, Mary?" 
 
 **Mr. Faithful," repeated she, very warmly, **you are not 
 my father confessor; but do as you please — write to Tom if 
 you please , and tell him all you have seen , and any thing you 
 may think — make him and make me miserable and unhappy 
 — do it, I pray. It will be a friendly act; and as you are now 
 a great man, you may persuade Tom that I am a jilt and a 
 good-for-nothing." 
 
 Here Mary laid her hands on the table , and buried her face 
 in them. 
 
 *<I did not come here to be your censor, Mary; you arc 
 certainly at liberty to act as you please , without my having any 
 right to interfere: but as Tom is my earliest and best friend, so 
 far as his interests and happiness are concerned , I shall carefully 
 watch over them. We have been so long together, and I am «o 
 
348 
 
 well acquainted with alJ his feelings , that I really believe that if 
 ever there was a young man sincerely and devotedly attached to a 
 woman , he is so to you ; and I wili add , that if ever there was a 
 young man who deserved love in return, it is Tom. When I left, 
 not a month back, he desired me to call upon you as soon 
 as I could, and assure you of his unalterable attachment; and 
 I am now about to procure his discharge , that he may be able to 
 return. All his thoughts are upon this point, and he is now waiting 
 with the utmost impatience the arrival of it , that he may again be 
 in your company ; you can best judge whether his return will or 
 will not be a source of happiness." 
 
 Mary raised her head — her face was wet with her tears. 
 
 '*Then he will soon be back again, and I shall see him. 
 Indeed, his return shall be no source of unhappiness, if I can 
 make him happy — indeed it shall not, Mr. Faithful; but pray 
 don't tell him of my foolish conduct, pray don't — why make him 
 unhappy? — I entreat you not to do it. I will not do so again. 
 Promise me, Jacob, will you?" continued Mary, taking me by 
 the arm , and looking beseechingly in my face. 
 
 "Mary, I never will be a mischief-maker, but recollect, I 
 exact the performance of your promise.** 
 
 "Oh! and I will keep it, now that I know he will soon be 
 home. I can , I think I can — I 'm sure I can wait a month or two 
 w ithout flirting. But I do wish that I was not left so much alone. 
 I wish Tom was at home to take care of me, for there is no one else. 
 I can't take care of myself." 
 
 I saw by Mary's countenance that she was in earnest, and I 
 therefore made friends with her, and we conversed for two hours, 
 chiefly about Tom. When I left her , she had recovered her usual 
 spirits, and said at parting, looking archly at me, "Now yon 
 will see how wise and how prudent I shall be." 
 
 I shook my head, and left her that 1 might find out old friend 
 Stapleton, who, as usual, was at the door of the public-house, 
 smoking his pipe. At first he did not recognise me , for when 
 I accosted him, he put his open hand to his ear, as usual, and 
 desired me to speak a little louder, but I answered, "Nonsense, 
 
349 
 
 Stapleton , that won't'do with me." He then took his pipe out of 
 his mouth , and looked me full in the face. 
 
 Jacob , as I 'm alive ! Didn't know you in jour long togs — 
 thought you was a gentleman wanting a boat. Well , I hardly need 
 say how glad I am to see you after so long, that's no more than 
 human natur. And how's Tom? Have you seen Mary? " 
 
 These two questions enabled me to introduce the subject that 
 I wished. I told him of the attachment and troth pledged between 
 the two , and how wrong it was for him to leave her so much alone. 
 The old man agreed with me, and said, that as to talking to the 
 men, that was on Mary's part nothing but human natur;" and 
 that as for Tom wishing to be at home and seeing her again , that 
 also was nothing hut **human natur;" but that he would smoke 
 his pipe at home in future, and keep the soldiers out of the house. 
 Satisfied with this assurance, 1 left him, and taking another 
 wherry, went up to Brentford to see the Domine. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 All the little boys are let loose, anil the Domine is caii'oHit. — Anxious 
 to supply my teeth, he falls in with other teeth, and Mrs. Batcly also 
 shows her teeth. — Gin outside, gin in, and gin out again, and old 
 woman out also. — Domine in for it again. — More like a whig ministry 
 than a novel. 
 
 I FOUND the worthy old Domine in the school-room , seated at 
 his elevated desk, the usher not present, and the boys making 
 a din enough to have awaked a person from a trance. That he was 
 in one of his deep reveries , and that the boys had taken advantage 
 of it, was evident. '*Mr. Dobbs said I, walking close up to 
 the desk, but the Domine answered not. I repeated his name in 
 a louder voice. 
 
 Cosine of X + ab — z — |: such must be the result," said 
 the Domine talking to himself. Yet it doth not prove corrrct. I 
 may be in error. Let me revise my work ," and the Domine lifted 
 up his desk to take out another piece of paper. When the desk lid 
 was raised , I removed his work and held it behind me. 
 
850 
 
 *'But how is this?" exclaimed the Domine, and he looked 
 every where for his previous calculations. Nay," continued he, 
 *'it must have been the wind;" and (hen he cast his eyes about 
 until they fixed upon me laughing at him. ''Eheu! what do my 
 eyes perceive? — It is, — yet it is not, — yes, most truly it is, 
 my son Jacob. Welcome, most welcome," cried the old man, 
 descending from his desk , and clasping me in his arms. Long 
 is it since I have seen tliee, my son, Interea magnum sol 
 circumvolvitur annum. Long, yes long, have I yearned 
 for thy return, fearful lest, nudus in ignota arena, thou 
 mightest, like another Palinurus, have been cast away. Thou 
 art returned, and all is well; as the father said in the Scripture, 
 I have found my son which I had lost, but no prodigal thou, 
 though I use the quotation as apt. Now all is well ; thou hast 
 escaped the danger of the battle , the fire , and the wreck , and 
 now thou mayst hang up thy wet garment as a votive offering; as 
 Horace hath it, Uvida suspendisse potenti vestimenta 
 maris Deo." 
 
 During the apostrophe of the Domine, the boys perceiving that 
 he was no longer wrapt up in his algebra, had partly settled to their 
 desks , and in their apparent attention to their lessons , reminded 
 me of the humming of bees before a hive on a summer*s day. 
 
 "Boys," cried the Domine, "nunc est ludendum, 
 verily ye shall have a holiday; put up your books, and depart 
 in peace." 
 
 The books were hastily put up , in obedience to the command ; 
 the depart in peace was not quite so rigidly adhered to — they gave 
 a loud shout , and in a few seconds the Domine and I stood alone 
 in tlie school-room. 
 
 "Come , Jacob , let us adjourn to my sanctum , there may we 
 commune without interruption. Thou shalt tell me thine adven- 
 tures, and I will communicate to thee what hath been made known 
 to me , relative to those with whom thou wert acquainted." 
 
 "First let me beg you to give me something to eat, for I am not 
 a little hungry," interrupted I, as we gained the kitchen. 
 
 '* Verily shalt thou have all that we possess, Jacob ; yet now, I 
 think, that will not be much , seeing that I and our worthy matron 
 
351 
 
 did pick the bones of a shoulder of mutton , this having been our 
 fourth day of repast upon it. She is out, yet I will venture to in- 
 trude into the privacy of her cupboard, for thy sake. Peradventure 
 she may be wroth, yet will I risk her displeasure.*' So saying, the 
 old Domine opened the cupboard , and, one by one, handed to me 
 the dishes with their contents. **IIere, Jacob, are two hard 
 dumplings from yesterday. Canst thou relish cold , hard dum- 
 plings? — but , stop , here is something more savoury — half of a 
 cold cabbage, which was left this day. We will look again. Here 
 is meat — yes, it is meat; but now do I perceive it is a piece of 
 lights reserved for the dinner of the cat to-morrow. I am fearful 
 that we must not venture upon that, for the dame will be wroth." 
 
 ** Pray put it back, Sir ; I would not interfere with puss on any 
 account." 
 
 **Nay then, Jacob, I see nought else, unless there maybe viands 
 on the upper shelf. Sir, here is bread, the staff of life, and also a 
 fragment of cheese; and now,~methinks, I discern something dark 
 at the back of the shelf." The Domine extended his hand, and im- 
 mediately withdrew it, jumping from his chair, with a loud cry. 
 He had put his fingers into a rat gin, set by the old woman for those 
 intruders, and he held up his arm, and stamped as he shouted out 
 with the pain. 1 hastened to him , and pressing down the spring, 
 released his fingers from the teeth, which, however, had drawn 
 blood, as well as bruised him; fortunately, like most of the articles 
 of their manage, the trap was a very old one, and he was not much 
 hurt. The Domine thrust his fingers into his capacious mouth, 
 and held them there some time without speaking. He began to 
 feel a little ease , when io came the matron. 
 
 "Why, what 's all this?" said she in a querulous tone. '* Ja- 
 cob here, and all my cupboard on the table. Jacob, how dare you 
 go to my cupboard?" 
 
 *' It was the Domine, Mrs. Bately, who looked there for some- 
 thing for me to eat , and he has been caught in a rat-trap." 
 
 " Serve him right; I have forbad him that cupboard. Have I 
 not, Mr. Dobbs?" 
 
 "Yea , and verily," quoth the Domine, **and I do repent me 
 
352 
 
 that I took not thine advice , for look at my fingers ; " and the Do- 
 mine extended his lacerated digits. 
 
 ** Dear me! well I 'd no idea that a rat-trap pinched so hard," 
 replied the old woman, whose wrath was appeased. *'How it must 
 hurt the poor things — I won't set it again, but leave them all to the 
 cat, he Ml kill them, if he only can get at them." The old lady went 
 to a drawer, unlocked it, brought out some fragments of rags, and 
 a bottle of friar's balsam, which she applied to the Domine's hand, 
 and then bound it up, scolding him the whole time. How stupid 
 of you , Mr. Dobbs ; you know that I was only out for a few mi- 
 nutes. Why didn't you wait — and why did you go to the cup- 
 board? Hav'n't I always told you not to look into it? and now you 
 see the consequences." 
 
 Verily my hand burneth ," replied the Domine. 
 
 **I will go for cold water, and it will ease you. What a deal of 
 trouble you do give, Mr. Dobbs ; you 're worse than a charity boy ; " 
 and the old lady departed to the pump. 
 
 Vinegar is a better thing. Sir," saidi, and there is a bottle 
 in the cupboard, which I dare say is vinegar." I went to the cup- 
 board, and brought out the bottle , took out the cork and smelt it. 
 ** This is not vinegar. Sir, it is Hollands or gin." 
 
 **Then would I like a glass, Jacob, for I feel a sickening faintness 
 upon me; yet be quick, peradventure the old woman may return." 
 
 *'Dnnk out of the bottle, Sir," said I, perceiving that the 
 Domine looked very pale, **and I will give you notice of her ap- 
 proach." The Domine put the bottle to his mouth , and was ta- 
 king a sufficient draught, when the old woman returned by another 
 door which was behind us ; she had gone that way for a wash- 
 basin. Before we could perceive her, she came behind the Do- 
 mine , snatched the bottle from his mouth with a jerk that threw a 
 portion of the spirits in his eyes , and blinded him. 
 
 ** That's why you went to my cupboard, is it, Mr. Dobbs?" 
 cried she , in a passion. *^ That 's it , is it? I thought my bottle 
 went very fast ; seeing that I don't take more than a tea-spoonful 
 every night, for the wind which vexes me so much. I '11 set the rat- 
 trap again , you may depend upon it ; and now you may get some- 
 body else to bind your fingers." 
 
353 
 
 ** It was I who took it out, Mrs. Bately ; the Domine would have 
 fainted with pain. It was very lucky that he has a housekeeper who 
 is careful to have something of the kind in the house , or he might 
 have been dead. You surely don't begrudge a little of your medi- 
 cine to recover Mr. Dobbs? " 
 
 Peace, woman, peace," said the Domine, who had gained 
 courage by his potation. Peace, I say: I knew not that thou 
 hadst in thy cupboard either a gin for my hand, or gin for thy 
 mouth ; since I have been taken in the one , it is but fair that I 
 should take in the other. In future both thy gins will not be inter- 
 fered with by me. Bring me the basin , that I may appease my 
 angry wounds, and then hasten to procure some viands to appease 
 the hunger of my son Jacob; lastly, appease thine own wrath. 
 Pax. Peace , I say ; " and the old woman, who perceived that the 
 Domine had asserted his right of dominion , went to obey his or- 
 ders, g.rumbling till she was out of hearing. The application of the 
 cold pump-water soon relieved the pain of the good old Domine, 
 and with his hand remaining in the basin, we commenced a long 
 conversation. 
 
 At first I narrated to him the events which had occurred during 
 my service on board of the frigate. When I told him of my part- 
 ing with Tom, he observed, Verily do I remember that young 
 Tom, a jocund, pleasant, yet intrusive lad. Yet do I wish him 
 well, and am grieved that he should be so taken by that maiden, 
 Mary. Well may we say of her, as Horace hath of Pyrrha — 
 'Quis multa gracilis te piier in rosa, perfusus liqui- 
 dis urget odoribus, grato Pyrrha sub antro. Cui fla- 
 vam religas comam, simplex munditiis. I grieve at it, 
 yea, grieve much. Heu quoties fidem, mutatosque Deos 
 f 1 e b i t ! Verily , Jacob , I do prophesy that she will lead him into 
 error, yea, perhaps into perdition." 
 
 ** I trust not, Sir," replied I ; but the Domine made no answer. 
 For half an hour he was in deep and serious thought, during which 
 ^ Mrs. Bately entered, and spreading a cloth, brought in from the 
 other room some rashers of bacon and eggs , upon which I made a 
 hasty and hearty meal. The old matron's temper was now 
 smopthed, and she welcomed me kindly, and shortly after went 
 
 Jacob Faithful, ^3 
 
354 
 
 out for a fresh basin of cold water for the Domine to bathe his 
 hand. This roused him, and he recommenced the conversation. 
 
 '* Jacob, I have not yet congratulated thee upon thy accession 
 to wealth; not that I do not sincerely rejoice in it, but because the 
 pleasure of thy presence has made me unmindful of it. Still, was 
 it fortunate for thee that thou hadst raised up such a friend as Mr. 
 Turnbull, otherwise what would have been the result of thy 
 boasted independence? thou wouldst probably have remained 
 many years on board of a man-of-war , and have been killed , or 
 have returned mutilated, to die unknown." 
 
 You were right. Sir," replied I, **my independence was 
 nothing but pride; and I did bitterly repent, as you said I should 
 do , even before I was pressed into the king's service — but Mr. 
 Drummond never repeated his offers." 
 
 "He never did, Jacob; but as I have since been informed by 
 him, although he was taken by surprise at thy being forced away to 
 serve thy country, still he was not sure that you would accept them ; 
 and he , moreover, wished you fully' to feel thine own folly. Long 
 before you had made friends with him , he had attested the will of 
 Mr. Turnbull , and was acquainted with the contents. Yet did he 
 watch over thee , and had he thought that thy way of life had led 
 Ihee into that which was wrong , he would have interfered to save 
 thee ; but he considered with Shakspeare , that * sweet were the 
 uses of adversity and that thou wouldst be more schooled by re- 
 maining some time under her unprepossessing frowns. He hath 
 ever been thy friend." 
 
 "I can believe it. I trust he is well , and his family." 
 
 **They were well and prosperous but a little while ago , Jacob ; 
 yet I have seen but little of them since the death of Mr. Turnbull. 
 It will pain thee to hear, that affliction at thy absence hastened his 
 dissolution. I was at his death-bed , Jacob ; and I verily believe he 
 was a good man , and will meet the reward of one ; yet did he talk 
 most strangely, and reminded me of that remnant of a man you 
 call old Tom. * It 's no use , old gentleman said he , as he lay in 
 his bed supported by pillows , for he had wasted away till he was 
 but a skeleton, having broken a blood-vessel with his violent 
 coughing. *It no use pouring that doctor's^ stuff down my 
 
355 
 
 throat; my anchor's short stay a-peak, and in a few minutes I 
 shall trip it, I trust for heaven, where I hope there are moorings 
 laid down for me.* *I would fain comprehend thee,' replied I, 
 *but thou speakest in parables/ 'I mean to say that death has 
 driven his harpoon in up to the shank, and that I struggle in vain. 
 I have run out all my line. I shall turn up in a few minutes — so 
 give my love and blessing to Jacob — he saved my life once — but 
 now I 'm gone.* With these last words his spirit took its flight; 
 and thus, Jacob, did your benefactor breathe his last, invoking a 
 blessing on your head." 
 
 I remained silent for a few minutes , for I was much affected by 
 the Domine's description; he at length resumed the conversation. 
 
 '*Thou hast not yet seen the Drummonds , Jacob?" 
 
 "I have not," I replied, *' but I will call upon them to-morrow; 
 but it is lime that I should go , for I have to return to London." 
 
 ** Thou needest not , Jacob. Thine own house is at hand." 
 
 ** My own house! " 
 
 *'Yes; by the will of Mr. Turnbull, his wife has been left a 
 handsome jointure, but for reasons which he did not eiplain , the 
 house and furniture are not left to her, but, as residuary legatee, 
 belong to thee." 
 
 *' Indeed! — then where is Mrs. Turnbull?" ^ 
 
 ** At Bath, where she hath taken up her residence. Mr. Drum- 
 mond, who hath acted in thy behalf, permitted her to take away 
 such articles as she niight wish, but they were but few, chiefly 
 those little objects , which filled up rather than adorned the draw- 
 ing-room. The house is all ready for thy reception, and thou 
 mayst take possession this evening." 
 
 * * But why did not Mr. Turnbufl leave it to his widow? " 
 
 ** I cannot exactly say, but I think he did not wish her to remain 
 in this place. He therefore left her 5000 f at her own disposal , to 
 enable her to purchase and furnish another." 
 
 I then took my leave of the Domine , and it being rather late, 
 I resolved to walk to the house and sleep there. 
 
 23* 
 
356 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 In which I take posAession of my own house, and think that it looks 
 very ill -furnished without a wife, — Tom's discharge is sent out, 
 hut by accident it never reaches him. — I take my new station in 
 society. 
 
 On my arrival, the front gates were opened by the gardener's 
 wife, who made me a profound courtesy. The gardener soon after- 
 wards made his appearance, hat in hand. Every thing was neat, 
 and in good order. I entered the house, and as soon as possible 
 rid myself of their obsequious attentions. I wished to be alone. 
 Powerful feelings crowded on my mind. I hastened to Mr. Turn- 
 bull's study, and sat down in the chair so lately occupied by him. 
 The proud feeling of possession, softened into gratitude to 
 Heaven , and sorrow at his death , came over me , and I remained 
 for a long while in a deep reverie. *' And all this, and more, much 
 more, are mine," I mentally exclaimed: *nhe sailor before the 
 mast , the waterman on the river , the charity-boy, the orphan , sits 
 down in quiet possession of luxury and wealth. What have I done 
 to deserve all this ? " My heart told me nothing , or if any thing , it 
 was almost valueless , and I poured forth my soul in thanks to 
 Heaven. I felt more composed after I had performed this duty, 
 and my thoughts then dwelt upon my benefactor. I surveyed the 
 room — the drawings , the furs and skins , the harpoons and other 
 instruments, all remaining in their respective places, as when I last 
 had an interview with Mr. Turnbull. I remembered his kindness, 
 his singleness of heart, his honesty, his good sense, and his real 
 worth; and I shed many tears for his loss. My thoughts then 
 passed to Sarah Drummond , and I felt much uneasiness on that 
 score. Would she receive me , or would she still remember what I 
 had been? I recollected her kindness and good will towards me. 
 I weighed these , and my present condition , against my origin and 
 my former occupation; and could not ascertain how the scale 
 might turn. I shall soon see , thought I. To-morrow, even, may 
 decide the question. The gardener's wife knocked at the door, 
 and announced that my bed was prepared. I went to sleep, 
 dreaming of Sarah , young Tom , the Domine , and Mary Stapleton. 
 
357 
 
 I was up early the next morning, and hastened to the hotel; 
 when having arranged my person to the best of my power (but at 
 the same time never so little to my satisfaction) , I proceeded to the 
 house of Mr. Drummond. I knocked ; and this time I was not 
 desired to wait in the hall , but was immediately ushered up into 
 the drawing-room. Sarah Drummond was sitting alone at her 
 drawing. My name was announced as I entered. She started 
 from her chair, and blushed deeply as she moved towards me. We 
 joined hands in silence. I was breathless with emotion. Never 
 had she appeared so beautiful. Neither party appeared willing to 
 break silence: at last I faltered out, Miss Drummond," — and 
 then I stopped. 
 
 **Mr. Faithful," replied she; and then after a break — **How 
 very silly this is : I ought to have congratulated you upon your safe 
 return, and upon your good fortune: and, indeed, Mr. Faithful, 
 no one can do so more sincerely.** 
 
 "Miss Drummond," replied I, confused, *'when I was an 
 orphan , a charity-boy , and a waterman , you called me Jacob : if 
 the alteration in my prospects induces you to address me in so 
 formal a manner — if we are in future to be on such different 
 terms — I can only say, that I wish that I were again — Jacob 
 Faithful, the waterman." 
 
 * * Nay ," replied she , * * recollect that it was your own choice to 
 be a waterman. You might have been different — very different. 
 You might at this time have been partner with my father, for he 
 said so but last night , when we were talking about you. But you 
 refused all : you threw away your education , your talents , your 
 good qualities , from a foolish pride , which you considered in- 
 dependence. My father almost humbled himself to you — not that 
 it is ever humiliating to acknowledge and attempt to repair a fault, 
 but still he did more than could be expected from most people. 
 Your friends persuaded you, but you rejected their advice; and, 
 what was still more unpardonable , even I had no influence over 
 you. As long as you punished yourself I did not upbraid you ; but 
 now that you have been so fortunate, I tell you plainly — " 
 
 *'What?" 
 
 ** That it is more than you deserve , that *s all." 
 
358 
 
 **You have said but the truth, Miss Drummond. I was very 
 proud and very foolish ; but I had repented of my folly long before 
 I was pressed ; and I candidly acknowledge that I do not merit the 
 good fortune I have met with. Can I say more? " 
 
 *'No: I am satisfied with your repentance and acknowledg- 
 ment. So now you may sit down and make yourself agreeable.'* 
 
 "Before I do that, allow me to ask, as you address me as Mr. 
 Faithful , how am I to address you? I should not wish to be con- 
 sidered impertinent?" 
 
 *'My name is Miss Drummond, but those who feel intimate 
 with me call me Sarah." 
 
 "I may reply that my name is Faithful , but those who feel in- • 
 timate with me call me Jacob." 
 
 ''Yery true; but allow me to observe that you show very little 
 tact. You should never force a lady into a corner. If I appear 
 affronted when you call me Sarah, then you will do wise to fall back 
 upon Miss Drummond. But why do you fix your eyes upon me so 
 earnestly?" 
 
 I cannot help it, and must beg your pardon; but you are so 
 improved in appearance since I last saw you. I thought no one 
 could be more perfect, but — " 
 
 "Well , that *s not a bad beginning, Jacob. I like to hear of 
 my perfections. Now follow up your but." 
 
 "I hardly know what I was going to say, but I think it was, 
 that I do not feel as if I ought or can address you otherwise than 
 as Miss Drummond." 
 
 "Oh! you've thought better of it, have you? Well, I begin 
 to think myself that you look so well in your present dress , and 
 have become so very different a person, that I ought not to address 
 you by any other name than Mr. Faithful. So now we are agreed." 
 
 "That *s not what I mean to say." 
 
 ''Well , then , let me know what you did mean to say." 
 
 This puzzling question fortunately did not require an an- 
 swer, for Mr. Drummond came into the room and extended his 
 hand. 
 
 "My dear Jacob," said he, in the most friendly manner, 
 "I'm delighted to see you back again, and to have the pleasure 
 
359 
 
 of congratulating you on your good fortune. But you have business 
 to transact which will not admit of any delay. You must prove 
 the will , and arrange with the lawyers as soon as possible. Will 
 you come now? All the papers are below, and I have the whole 
 morning to spare. We will be back to dinner, Sarah, if Jacob 
 has no other engagement." 
 
 ''I have none," replied I; *'and shall be most happy to avail 
 myself of your kindness. Miss Drummond, I wish you a good 
 morning." 
 
 '*Au re voir, Mr. Faithful," replied Sarah, courtesying 
 formally, with a mocking smile. 
 
 The behaviour of Mr. Drummond towards me was most kind 
 and parental , and my eyes were often suffused with tears during 
 the occupation of the morning. The most urgent business was 
 got through , and an interview with Mr. Turnbull's solicitor put 
 the remainder in progress ; still it was so late when we had ac- 
 complished it that I had no time to dress. On my return, Mrs. 
 Drummond received me with her usual kindness. I narrated, 
 during the evening, my adventures since we parted, and took 
 that opportunity to acknowledge to Mr. Drummond how bitterly I 
 had repented my folly, and I may add ingratitude , towards him. 
 
 "Jacob," said he, as we were sitting at the tea-table with 
 Mrs. Drummond and Sarah, knew at the time that you were 
 toiling on the river for shillings that you were the inheritor of 
 thousands ; for I not only witnessed but read the will of Mr. Turn- 
 bull; but I thought it best that you should have a lesson which 
 you would never forget in after life. There is no such thing in 
 this world as independence , unless in a savage state. In society 
 we are all mutually dependent upon each other. Independence of 
 mind we may have, butjQO more. As a waterman, you were 
 dependent upon your customers , as every poor man must be upon 
 those who have more means; and in refusing my offers, you 
 were obliged to apply for employment to others. The rich are as 
 entirely dependent upon others as the poor; they depend upon 
 tliem for their food, their clothes, their necessities, and their 
 luxuries. Such ever will be the case in society, and the more 
 refined the society may be — the more civilised its parts — the 
 
360 
 
 greater is the mutual dependence. Still it is an error originating 
 in itself from high feelings , and therefore must be considered as 
 an error on the right side ; but recollect how much you might have 
 thrown away, had not you, in the first place, secured such a 
 friend as Mr. Turnbull ; and , secondly , if the death of that friend 
 had not so soon put you in possession." 
 
 I was but too ready to acknowledge the truth of these remarks. 
 The evening passed away so rapidly, that it was midnight before I 
 rose to take my leave , and I returned to the hotel as happy in my 
 mind , and as grateful as ever any mortal could possibly be. The 
 next day, I removed to the house left me by Mr. Turnbull, and 
 the first order I gave was for a wherry. Such was the force of habit, 
 I could not do without one ; and half my time was spent upon tha 
 river , pulling every day down to Mr. Drummond's , and returning 
 in the evening, or late at night. Thus passed away two months, 
 during which I occasionally saw the Domine , the Stapletons, and 
 old Tom Beazeley. I had exerted myself to procure Tom's dis- 
 charge, and at last had the pleasure of telling the old people that 
 it was to go out by the next packet. By the Drummonds I was re- 
 ceived as a member of the family — there was no hinderance to 
 my being alone with Sarah for hours ; and although I had not ven- 
 tured to declare my sentiments , they appeared to be well under- 
 stood, as well by the parents as by Sarah herself. 
 
 Two days after I had communicated this welcome intelligence 
 to the old couple , as I was sitting at breakfast , attended by the 
 gardener and his wife (for I had made no addition to my establish- 
 ment), what was my surprise at the appearance of young Tom, 
 who entered the room as usual , laughing as he held out his hand* 
 
 ** Tom !" exclaimed I, '*why, how did you come here?" 
 By water, Jacob, as you may suppose." 
 
 **But how have you received your discharge? Is the ship 
 come home?" 
 
 I hope not : the fact is , I discharged myself, Jacob." 
 
 ** What ! did you dessert? " 
 
 "Even so. I had three reasons for so doing. In the first 
 place , I could not remain without you ; in the second , my mother 
 wrote to say Mary was taking up with a sodger j and the third was, 
 
361 
 
 I was put into the report for punishment, and should have been 
 flogged , as sure as the Captain had a pair of epaulettes." 
 
 ** Well , but sit down and tell me all about it. You know your 
 discharge is obtained." 
 
 **Yes, thanks to you,* Jacob; all the better, for now they 
 won't look after me. All 's well that ends well. After you went 
 away, I presume I was not in the very best of humours ; and that 
 rascal of a master's mate who had us pressed , thought proper to 
 bully me beyond all bearing. One day, he called me a lying 
 scoundrel ; upon which I forgot that I was on board of a man-of- 
 war , and replied that he was a confounded cheat, and that he had 
 better pay me his debt of two guineas for bringing him down the 
 river. He reported me on the quarter-deck for calling him a cheat, 
 and Captain Maclean, who, you know, won't stand any nonsense, 
 heard the arguments on both sides; upon which he declared that 
 the conduct of the master's mate was not that of an officer or a gen- 
 tleman , and therefore he should leave the ship ; and that my lan- 
 guage to my superior officer was subversive of the discipline of the 
 service , a«nd therefore he should give m e a good flogging. Now, 
 Jacob , you know that if the officers don't pay their debts , Captain 
 Maclean always does, and with interest into the bargain; so 
 finding that I was in for it, and no mistake, I swam ashore the 
 night before Black Monday, and made my way to Miramichi, 
 without any adventure, except a tussle with a sergeant of marines, 
 whom I left for dead about three miles out of the town. At Mira- 
 michi , I got on board of a timber ship , and here I am." 
 
 **I am sorry that you deserted , nevertheless," replied I; **it 
 may come to mischief." 
 
 Never fear : the people on the river know that I have my dis- 
 charge , and I 'm safe enough." 
 
 "Have you seen Mary?" 
 
 "Yes, and all 's right in that quarter. I shall build another 
 wherry, wear my badge and dress, and stick above bridge. 
 When I 'm all settled , I '11 splice , and live along with the old 
 couple." 
 
 "But will Mary consent to live there? It is so quiet and retired 
 that she wo'n't like it." 
 
362 
 
 "Mary Stapleton has given herself airs enough in all con- 
 science, and has had her own way quite enough. Mary Beazeley 
 will do as her husband wishes , or I will know the reason why." 
 
 '*We shall see, Tom. Bachelor's wives are always best 
 managed, they say. But now you want money to buy your boat." 
 
 '* Yes , if you '11 lend it to me ; I don't like to take it away from 
 the old people ; and I 'U'pay you when I can , Jacob." 
 
 **No; you must accept this, Tom; and when you marry you 
 must accept something more," replied I, handing the notes to 
 him. 
 
 "With all my heart, Jacob. 'I never can repay you for what 
 you have done for me, and so I may just as well increase the debt." 
 "That's good logic, Tom." 
 
 " Quite as good as independence; is it not, Jacob?" 
 "Better, much better, as I know to my cost," replied I, 
 laughing. 
 
 Tom finished his breakfast, and then took his leave. After 
 breakfast, as usual, I went to the boat-house, and unchaining 
 my wherry, pulled up the river, which I had not hitherto done; 
 my attendance upon Sarah having invariably turned the bow of my 
 wherry in the opposite direction. I swept by the various residences 
 on the banks of the river, until I arrived opposite to that of Mr. 
 Wharncliffe , and perceived a lady and gentleman in the ga-rden. 
 I knew them immediately, and , as they were standing close to the 
 wall , I pulled in and saluted them. 
 
 "Do you recollect me?" said I to them, smiling. 
 
 "Yes," replied the lady, "I do recollect your face — surely 
 — it is Faithful , the waterman ! " 
 
 " No , I am not a waterman ; I am only amusing myself in my 
 own boat." 
 
 "Come up," replied Mr. Wharncliffe; "we can't shake 
 hands with you at that distance." 
 
 I made fast my wherry and joined them. They received me 
 most cordially. 
 
 " I thought you were not a waterman , Mr. Fafthful , although 
 you said that you were said Mrs. Wharncliffe. "Why did you 
 deceive us in that way ? " 
 
363 
 
 ** Indeed, at that time I was, from my own choice and my 
 own folly, a waterman : now I am so no longer." 
 
 We were soon on the most intimate terms , and I narrated part 
 of my adventures. They expressed their obligations to me, and 
 requested that I would accept their friendship. ' 
 
 Would you like to have a^ow on the water? It is a beautiful 
 day, and if Mrs. Wharncliffe will trust herself — " 
 
 ** Oh ! I should like it above all things. Will you go William? 
 I will run for a shawl." 
 
 In a few minutes we were all three embarked , and I rowed 
 them to my villa. They had been admiring the beauty of the 
 various residences on the banks of the Thames. 
 
 **How do you like that one?" inquired I of Mrs. Wharnclifife. 
 
 ** It is very handsome , and I think one of the very best." 
 
 **That is mine," replied I. '^Will you allow m« to show it 
 to you?" 
 
 Yours?" 
 
 * * Yes , mine : but I have a very small establishment , for I am 
 a bachelor." 
 
 We landed , and after walking about the grounds , went into 
 the house. • 
 
 Do you recollect this room?" said I to Mr. Wharncliffe. 
 
 ^*Yes, indeed I do: it was here that the box was opened, and 
 my uncle's — But we must not say any thing about that : he is 
 dead." 
 
 **Dead!" 
 
 Yes ; he never held his head up after his dishonesty was dis- 
 covered. He pined and died within three months, sincerely re- 
 penting what he had attempted." 
 
 I accepted their invitation to dinner, as I rowed them back to 
 their own residence; and afterwards had the pleasure of enrolling 
 them among my sincerest friends. Through them I was introduced 
 to Lady Auburn and many others ; and I shall not forget the old 
 housekeeper recognising me one day, when I was invited to Lady 
 Auburn's villa. 
 
 ** Bless me! what tricks you young gentlemen do play. Only 
 to think how you asked me for watqr, and how I pushed the door 
 
364 
 
 in your face , and wouldn't let you rest yourself. But if you young 
 gentlemen will disguise yourselves , it 's your own faults , and you 
 must take the consequences." 
 
 My aquaintances now increased rapidly, and I had the advan- 
 tage of the best society. I hardly need observe that it was a great 
 advantage; for, although I was not considered awkward, still I 
 wanted that polish which can only, be obtained by an admixture 
 with good company. The reports concerning me were various; 
 but it was generally believed that I was a young man who had re- 
 ceived an excellent education , and might have been brought for- 
 ward, but that I had taken a passion for the river, and had chosen 
 to be a waterman in preference to any other employment; that I 
 had since come in to a large fortune , and had resumed my station 
 in society. How far the false was blended with the true, those 
 who have read my adventures will readily perceive. For my part, 
 I cared little what they said, and I gave myself no trouble to refute 
 the various assertions. I was not ashamed of my birth , because 
 it had no effect upon the Drummonds , still , I knew the world too 
 well to think it necessary to blazon it. On the whole , the balance 
 was in my favour; there was a degree of romance in my history, 
 with all its variations, which interested, and, jofhed to the know- 
 ledge of my actual wealth, made me to be well received, and gained 
 me attention wherever I went. One thing was much to my ad- 
 vantage — my extensive reading, added to the good classical 
 education which I had received. It is not often in society that an 
 opportunity occurs when any one can prove his acquisitions; but 
 when it does come , they always make an impression ; and thus 
 did education turn the scale in my favour, and every one was much 
 more inclined to believe the false rather than the true versions of 
 my history. 
 
365 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The Domine proves Stapleton^s "human natur" to be correct. — The 
 red-coat proves too much of a match for the blue. — Mary selU Tom, 
 and Tom sells what is left of him, for a shilling. — We never know 
 the value of any thing till we have lost it, 
 
 I HAD often ruminated in what manner I could render the 
 Domine more comfortable. I felt that to him I was as much 
 indebted as to any living being, and one day I ventured to open the 
 subject; but his reply was decided. 
 
 "I see, Jacob, my son, what thou wouldst wish: but it must 
 not be. Man is but a creature of habit : habit becomes to him not 
 only necessity but luxury. For five-and-forty years have I toiled, 
 instilling precepts and forcing knowledge into the brains of those 
 who have never proved so apt as thou. Truly, it hath been a pain- 
 ful task, yet can I not relinquish it. I might, at one time, that is, 
 during the first ten years , have met the offer with gratitude ; for I 
 felt the humiliation and annoyance of wearying myself with the 
 rudiments , when I would fain have commented upon the various 
 peculiarities of style in the ancient Greek and Latin authors ; but 
 now, all that has passed away. The eternal round of concord, 
 prosody and syntax has charms for me from habit : the rule of 
 three is preferable to the problems of Euclid, and even the Latin 
 grammar hath its delights. In short, I have a huj us pleasure in. 
 hie, hffic, hoc; [cluck, cluck;] and even the flourishing of 
 the twigs of that tree of knowledge , the birch , hath become a 
 pleasurable occupation to me, if not to those upon whom it is in- 
 flicted. I am like an old horse , who hath so long gone round and 
 round in a mill , that he cannot walk straight forward ; and , if it 
 please the Almighty, I will die in harness. Still I thank thee, 
 Jacob; and thank God that thou hast again proved the goodness 
 of thy heart, and given me one more reason to rejoice in thee and 
 in thy love ; but thine offer, if accepted, would not add to my hap- 
 piness ; for what feeling can be more consolatory to an old man 
 near into his grave , than the reflection that his life , if not dis- 
 tinguished, has at least been useful ? 
 
366 
 
 I had not, for some time, received a visit from Tom; and, 
 surprised at this, I went down to his father's, to make inquiry 
 about him. I found the old couple sitting in-doors; the weather 
 was fine, but old Tom was not at his work; even the old woman's 
 netting was thrown aside. 
 
 Where is Tom?'* inquired I, after wishing them good 
 morning. 
 
 '* Oh ! deary me," cried the old woman , putting her apron up 
 to her eyes ; * ' that wicked , good-for-nothing girl ! " 
 
 ** Good heavens ! what is the matter?" inquired I of old Tom. 
 
 '*The matter, Jacob," replied old Tom, stretching out his 
 two wooden legs, and placing his hands upon his knees, *'is, 
 that Tom has 'listed for a sodger." 
 
 '* Listed for a soldier ! " 
 
 **Yes; that's as sartain as it's true; and what's worse, I'm 
 told the regiment is ordered to the West Indies. So, what with 
 fever o' mind and yellow fever, he's food for the land crabs, that's 
 sartain. I think now," continued the old man, brushing a tear 
 from his eye with his fore-finger, *Uhat I see his bones bleaching 
 under the palisades ; for I know the place well. " 
 
 ** Don't say so, Tom; don't say so!" 
 
 '*0h, Jacob! beg pardon if I'm too free now; but can't you 
 help us?" 
 
 **I will if I can, depend upon it; but tell me how this hap- 
 pened." 
 
 **Why, the long and the short of it is this; that girl, Mary 
 Stapleton, has been his ruin. When he first came home , he was 
 well received , and looked forward to being spliced and living with 
 us; but it didn't last long. She couldn 't leave off her old tricks; 
 and so , that Tom might not get the upper hand , she plays him off 
 with the sergeant of a recruiting party, and flies off from one to the 
 other, just like the ticker of the old clock there does from one side 
 to the other. One day the sergeant was the fancy man , and the 
 next day it was Tom. At last, Tom gets out of patience, and 
 wishes to come to a fair understanding. So he axes her whether 
 she chooses to have the sergeant or to have him ; she might take 
 her choice , but he had no notion of being played with in that way. 
 
367 
 
 after all her letters and all her promises. Upon this she huffs 
 outright, and tells Tom he may go about his business, for she 
 didn't care if she never sees him no more. So Tom's blood was 
 up, and he calls her a d — d jilt , and, in my opinion , he was near 
 to the truth ; so then they had a regular breeze, and part company. 
 Well , this made Tom very miserable , and the next day he would 
 have begged her pardon , and come to her terms , for you see, 
 Jacob , a man in love has no discretion ; but she being still angry, 
 tells him to go about his business, as she means to marry the 
 sergeant in a week. Tom turns away again quite mad; and it so 
 happens that he goes into the public-house where the sergeant 
 hangs out , hoping to be revenged on him , and meaning to have a 
 regular set-to, and see who is the best man; but the sergeant 
 wasn't there, and Tom takes pot after pot to drive away care ; and, 
 when the sergeant returned , Tom was not a little in liquor. Now, 
 the sergeant was a knowing chap, and when he comes in, and per- 
 ceives Tom with his face flushed , he guesses what was to come, 
 so , instead of saying a word, he goes to another table , and dashes 
 his fist upon it, as if in a passion. Tom goes up to him, and says, 
 * Sergeant, I 've known that girl long before you , and if you are a 
 man , you '11 stand up for her. ' * Stand up for her ; yes replied 
 the sergeant, * and so I would have done yesterday, but the blasted 
 jilt has turned me to the right about and sent me away. I won't 
 fight now, for she won't have me — any more than she will you.' 
 Now when Tom hears this, he becomes more pacified with the 
 sergeant, and they set down like two people under the same mis- 
 fortune, and take a pot together, instead of fighting; and then, 
 you see, the strgeant pHes Tom with liquor, swearing that he will 
 go back to the regiment, and leave Mary altogether, and advises 
 Tom to do the same. At last, what with the sergeant's persua- 
 sions, and Tom's desire to vex Mary, he succeeds in 'listing him, 
 and giving him the shilling before witnesses ; that was all the rascal 
 wanted. The next day Tom was sent down to the dep6t, as they ^ 
 call it, under a guard; and the seigeant remains here to follow up 
 Mary, without interruption. This only happened three days ago, 
 and we only were told of it yesterday by old Stapleton , who threa- 
 tens to turn his daughter out of doors." 
 
368 
 
 ** Can't you help us, Jacob?" said the old woman, whimpering. 
 
 '*! hope I can; and if money can procure his discharge it shall 
 be obtained. But did you not say that he was ordered to the West 
 Indies?" 
 
 "The regiment is in the West Indies , but they are recruiting 
 for it, so many have been carried off by the yellow fever last sickly 
 season. A transport, they say, will sail next week, and the re- 
 cruits are to march for embarkation in three or four days." 
 And what is the regiment, and where is the dep6t?" 
 It is the 47th Fusileers , and the dep6t is at Maidstone." 
 
 **I will lose no time, my good friends," replied I; to-morrow 
 I will go to Mr. Drummond , and consult with him." I returned 
 the grateful squeeze of old Tom's hand, and, followed by the bless- 
 ings of the old woman, I hastened away. 
 
 As I pulled up the river, for that day I was engaged to dine 
 with the Wharncliffes , I resolved to call upon Mary Stapletou, 
 and ascertain by her deportment whether she had become that 
 heartless jilt which she was represented, and if so, to persuade 
 Tom, if I succeeded in obtaining his discharge, to think no more 
 about her. I felt so vexed and angry with her , that after I landed, 
 I walked about a few minutes before I went to the house that I 
 might recover my temper. When I walked up the stairs I found 
 Mary sitting over a sheet of paper , on which she had been writing. 
 She looked up as I came in , and I perceived that she had been cry- 
 ing. '*Mary," said I, **how well you have kept the promise you 
 made :to me when last we met ! See what trouble and sorrow you 
 have brought upon all parties except yourself." 
 
 Except myself; — no, Mr. Faithful, don't except myself, I 
 am almost mad — I believe that I am mad — for surely such folly 
 as mine is madness." And Mary wept bitterly. 
 
 "There is no excuse for your behaviour; Mary — it is un- 
 pardonably wicked. Tom sacrificed all for your sake — he even 
 deserted , and desertion is death by the law. Now what have you 
 done? — taken advantage of his strong affection, to drive him to 
 intemperance , and induce him , in despair , to enlist for a soldier. 
 He sails for the West Indies to fill up the ranks of a regiment 
 thinned by the yellow fever, and will perhaps never return again — 
 
369 
 
 you will then have been the occasion of his death. Mary, Iha',e 
 come to tell you that I despise you." 
 
 **I despise and hate myself replied Mary, mournfully; 'I 
 wish I were in my grave — 0 Mr. Faithful, do for God's sake — 
 do get him back. You can, I know you can — you have money 
 and every thing." 
 
 **If I do, it will not be for your benefit, Mary, for you shall 
 trifle with him no more. I will not try for his discharge unless he 
 faithfully promises never to speak to you again." 
 
 **You don't say that — you don't mean that," cried Mary, 
 sweeping the hair with her hand back from her forehead, — and 
 her hand still remaining on her head — ** 0 God ! 0 God ! what a 
 wretch I am ! Hear me, Jacob — hear me," cried she, dropping on 
 hcrkoces, and seizing my hands ; ** only get him his discharge — 
 only let me once see him again , and I swear by all that's sacred^ 
 that I will beg his pardon on my knees as I now do yours. I will 
 do every thing — any thing — if he will but forgive me , for I can- 
 not , I will not live without him." 
 
 ** If this is true , Mary , what madness could have induced you 
 to have acted as you have ? " 
 
 *'Yes," replied Mary, rising from her knees, madness, 
 indeed, — more than madness to treat so cruelly one for whom I 
 only care to live. You say Tom loves me , I know he does ; but 
 he does not love me as I do him. 0 my God ! my heart will break ! " 
 After a pause, Mary resumed. **Read what I have written to 
 him — I have already written as much in another letter. You will 
 see that if he cannot get away, I have offered to go out with him as 
 his wife, that is , if he will have such a foolish wicked girl as I am." 
 
 I read the letter, it was as she said, praying for forgiveness, 
 oflfering to accompany him , and humiliating herself as much as it 
 was possible. I was much affected. I returned the letter. 
 
 *' You can't despise me so much as I despise myself, continued . 
 Mary; *'lhate, I detest myself for my folly. I recollect now how 
 you used to caution me when a girl. 0 mother, mother, it was 
 a cruel legacy you left to your child, when you gave her your dispo- 
 sition. Yet why should I blame her? — I must blamo myself." 
 
 Jacob Faithful, - 2 4 
 
S70 
 
 ** Well, Mary, I will do all I can , and that as soon as possible. 
 To-morrow I will go down to the depot.'* 
 
 "God bless you , Jacob ; and may you never have the misfor- 
 tune to be in love with such a one as myself." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 I am made very happy. — In other respects a very melancholy chapter, 
 vhich, ^ve are sorry to inform the reader, will be followed up by one 
 •till more so. ^ 
 
 I LEFT Mary , and hastened home to dress for dinner. I men- 
 tioned the subject of wishing to obtain Tom's discharge to Mr. 
 Wharncliffe , who recommended my immediately applying to the 
 Horse Guards; and, as he was acquainted with those in office, 
 ofiFered to accompany me. I gladly accepted his offer; and the 
 next morning he called for me in his carriage, and we went there. 
 Mr. Wharncliffe sent up his card to one of the secretaries , and we 
 were immediately ushered up, when I stated my wishes. . The 
 reply was, **If you had time to procure a substitute it would be 
 easily arranged ; but the regiment is so weak , and the aversion to 
 the West Indies so prevalent after this last very sickly season , that 
 I doubt if his Royal Highness would permit any man to purchase 
 his discharge. However, we will see. The Duke is one of the 
 kindest- hearted of men, and I will lay the case before him • but 
 let us see if he is still at the dep6t — I rather think not." The se- 
 cretary rang the bell. 
 
 *'The detachment of the 47th Fusileers from the dep6t, has it 
 marched? and when does it embark? " 
 
 The clerk went out, and in a few minutes returned with 
 some paper in his hand. **It marched the day before yesterday, 
 and was to embark this morning , and sail as soon as the wind 
 was fair." 
 
 My heart sunk at this intelligence. 
 
 *'How is the wind, Mr. G— ? go down and look at the 
 tell-tale." 
 
 The clerk returned; **E. N. E., Sir, and has been steadily 
 so these two days." 
 
371 
 
 ** Then replied the secretary , I am afraid you are too late 
 to obtain your wish. The orders to the port-admiral are most pe- 
 remptory to expedite the sailing of the transports, and a frigate has 
 been now three weeks waiting to convoy them. Depend upon it, 
 they have sailed to-day." 
 
 What can be done?" replied I mournfully. 
 
 **You must apply for his discharge , and procure a substitute. 
 He can then have an order sent out , and be permitted to retura 
 home. I am very sorry, as I perceive you are much interested, 
 but I 'm afraid it is too late now. However, you may call to- 
 morrow; the weather is clear with this wind, and the port- ad- 
 miral will telegraph to the Admiralty the sailing of the vessels. 
 Should any thing detain them, I will take care that his Royal 
 Highness shall be acquainted with the circumstances this afer- 
 noon , if possible , and will give you his reply," 
 
 We thanked the secretary for his politeness, and took our 
 leave. Vexed as I was with the communications I had already re- 
 ceived , I was much niore so when one of the porters ran to the 
 carriage to show me , bytlte secretary's order, a telegraphic com- 
 munication from the Admiralty, containing the certain and 
 unpleasant information, "Convoy to West Indies sailed this 
 morning." 
 
 *' Then it is all over for the present," said I, throwing myself 
 back in the carriage ; and I continued in a melancholy humour un- 
 til Mr. Wharncliffe , who had business in the city, putmedowa 
 as near as the carriage went to the house of Mr. Drummond. I 
 found Sarah, who was the depository of all my thoughts , pains, 
 and pleasures , and I communicated to her this episode in the his- 
 tory of young Tom. As most ladies are severe judges of their 
 own sex, she was very strong in her expressions against the con- 
 duct of Mary, which she would not allow to admit of any pallia- 
 tion. Even her penitence had no weight with her. 
 
 And yet how often is it the case, Sarah, not perhaps to the 
 extent carried on by this mistaken girl; but still the disappoiut- 
 ment is as great, although the consequences are not so calamitous. 
 Among the higher classes , how often do young men receive en- 
 uragement, and yield themselves up to a passion to end only in 
 
372 
 
 disappointment! It is not necessary to plight troth; a young wo- 
 man may not have virtually committed herself, and yet , by merely 
 appearing pleased with the conversation and company of a young 
 man , induce him to venture his affections in a treacherous sea, 
 and eventually find them wrecked." 
 
 ''You are very nautically poetical, Jacob," replied Sarah ; *'such 
 things do happen , but I think that women's affections are , to use 
 your phrase, oftener wrecked than those of men; that, however, 
 does not exculpate either party. A woman must be blind , indeed, 
 if she cannot perceive, in a very short time , whether she is trifling 
 with a man's feelings , and base indeed , if she continues to prac- 
 tise upon them." 
 
 Sarah," replied I, and I stopped. 
 
 *'Well,— " 
 
 '*Iwas," replied !, stammering a little , I was going to ask 
 you if you were blind? " 
 
 ** As to what Jacob?" said Sarah, colouring up. 
 ''As to my feelings towards you." 
 
 " No ; I believe you like me very well replied she, smiling. 
 
 **Do you think that that is all?" 
 
 *' Where do you dine to-day, Jacob?" replied Sarah. 
 
 *' That must depend upon you and your answer. If I dine here 
 to-day, I trust to dine here often. If I do not dine here to-day, 
 probably I never may again, I wish to know, Sarah, whether you 
 have been blind to my feelings towards you ; for, with the case of 
 Mary and Tom before me , I feel that I must no longer trust to my 
 own hopes , which may end in disappointment. Will you have the 
 kindness to put me out of my misery? " 
 
 *' If I have been blind to your feelings, I have not been blind; 
 to your merit, Jacob. Perhaps I have not been blind to your 
 feelings, and I am not of the same disposition as Mary Stapleton. 
 I think you may venture'to dine here to-day," continued she, co- 
 louring and smiling , as she turned away to the window. 
 
 " I can hardly believe that I 'm to be so happy, Sarah," replied 
 I, agitated. *'I have been fortunate, very fortunate; but the 
 hopes you have now raised are so much beyond my expectations, — 
 
373 
 
 so much beyond my deserts, that I dare not indulge in them. — 
 Have pity on me , and be more explicit." 
 
 *' What do you wish me to say?" replied Sarah , looking down 
 upon her work , as she turned round to me. 
 
 **That you will not reject the orphan who was fostered by your 
 father , and who reminds you of what he was , that you may not 
 forget at this moment , what I trust is the greatest bar to his pre- 
 sumption — his humble origin." 
 
 "Jacob, that was said like yourself, it was nobly said; and 
 if you were not born noble , you have true nobility of mind. I will 
 imitate your example. Have I not often, during our long friend- 
 ship, told you that I loved you?" 
 
 *'Yes, as a child, you did, Sarah." 
 
 "Then, as a woman , I repeat it; and now are you satisfied?" 
 
 I took Sarah by the hand ; she did not withdraw it , but allowed 
 me to kiss it over and over again. 
 
 * * But your father and mother , Sarah ? " 
 
 "Would never have allowed our intimacy, if they had not ap- 
 proved of it, Jacob, depend upon it. However, you may make 
 yourself easy on that score , by letting them know what has passed, 
 and then , I presume , you will be out of your misery." 
 
 Before the day was over, I had spoken to Mrs. Drummond, 
 and requested her to open the business to her husband , as I real- 
 ly felt it more than I could dare to do. She smiled as her daughter 
 hung upon her neck, and when I met Mr. Drummond at dinner- 
 time, I was "out of my misery," for he shook me by the hand, 
 and said, "You have made us all very happy, Jacob, for that 
 girl appears determined either to marry you , or not to marry at all. 
 — Come , dinner is ready." 
 
 I will leave the reader to imagine how happy I was : what passed 
 between Sarah and me in our t^te-a-l6te of that evening, how 
 unwilling I was to quit the house , and how I ordered a postchaise 
 to carry me home , because I was afraid to (rust myself on that 
 water, on which the major part of my life had been safely passed, 
 lest any accident should happen to me, and rob me of my antici- 
 pated bliss. From that day , I was as one of the family , and find- 
 ing the distance too great, took up my abode at apartments con- 
 
?74 
 
 tiguous to the house of Mr. Drummond. But the course of other 
 people's love did not run so smooth , and I must now return to 
 Mary Stapleton and Tom Beazeley. 
 
 I had breakfasted, and was just about to take my wherry and go 
 down to acquaint the old couple with the bad success of my appli- 
 cation. I had been reflecting with gratitude upon my own hap- 
 piness in prospect, indulging in fond anticipations, and then, 
 reverting to the state in which I had left Mary Stapleton and Tom's 
 father and mother, contrasting their misery with my joy , arising 
 from the same source , when , who should rush into the dining- 
 room but young Tom , dressed in nothing but a shirt, and a pair 
 of white trousers, covered with dust, and wan with fatigue and 
 excitement. 
 
 **Good heavens! Tom! are you back? then you must have 
 deserted." 
 
 *' Very true," replied Tom, sinking on a chair, **Iswamon 
 shore last night, and have made from Portsmouth to here since 
 eight o'clock. I hardly need say that I am done up. Let me have 
 something to drink, Jacob, pray." 
 
 I went to the celleret and brought him some wine , of which he 
 drank off a tumbler eagerly. During this , I was revolving in my 
 mind the consequences which might arise from this hasty and im- 
 prudentstep. **Tom," saidi, ** do you know the consequences 
 of desertion?" 
 
 "Yes," replied he, gloomily, ** but I could not help it; Mary 
 told me , in her letter, that she would do all I wished , would ac- 
 company me abroad; she made all the amends she could, poor 
 girl! and, by heavens, I could not leave her: and when I found 
 myself fairly under weigh , and there was no chance , I was almost 
 mad ; the wind baffled us at the Needles , and we anchored for the 
 night ; I slipped down the cable and swam on shore , and there *s 
 the whole story." 
 
 *' But, Tom , you will certainly be recognised and taken up for 
 a deserter." 
 
 '*Imust think of that," replied Tom; know the risk that 
 I run; but, perhaps, if you obtain my discharge, they may let 
 me off." 
 
375 
 
 I thought this was the best plan to proceed upon , and request- 
 ing Tom to keep quiet, I went to consult with Mr. Wharncliffe. 
 He agreed with me , that it was Tom's only chance , and I pulled 
 to his father's, to let them know what had occurred, and then 
 went on to the Drummonds. When I returned home late in the 
 evening, the gardener told me that Tom had gone out, and had 
 not returned. My heart misgave me that he had gone to see Mary, 
 and that some misfortune had occurred , and I went to bed with 
 most anxious feelings. My forebodings were proved to be correct, 
 for the next morning I was informed that old Stapleton wished to 
 see me. He was ushered in , and as soon as he entered , he ex- 
 claimed, ** All's up , Master Jacob — Tom's nabbed — Mary fit 
 after fit — human natur." 
 
 ** Why what is the matter, Stapleton?" 
 
 ** Why , it 's just this — Tom desarts to come to Mary. Cause 
 why? — he loves her — human natur. That soldier chap conies in 
 and sees Tom , clutches hold , and tries to take possession of him. 
 Tom fights , knocks out sergeant's starboard eye , and tries to es- 
 cape — human natur. Soldiers come in , pick up sergeant , seize 
 Tom , and carry him ofF. Mary cries , and screams , and faints — 
 human natur — poor girl can't keep her head up — two women 
 with burnt feathers all night. Sad job, mister Jacob. Of all the 
 senses love's the worst, that's sartain — quite upset me, can't 
 smoke my pipe this morning — Mary's tears quite put my pipe, 
 out" — and old Stapleton looked as if he was ready to cry himself. 
 
 **This is a sad business, Stapleton," replied I. ** Tom will 
 be tried for desertion , and God knows how it will end. I will try 
 all I can ; but they have been very strict lately." 
 
 ** Hope you will , mister Jacob. Mary will die , that 's sartain. 
 I 'm more afraid that Tom will. If one does , t'other will. I know 
 the girl — just like her mother, never could carry her helm amid- 
 ships , hard a port or hard a starboard. She *s mad now to follow 
 him — will go to Maidstone. I take her as soon as I go back to her. 
 Just come up to tell you all about it." 
 
 **This is a gloomy affair, Stapleton." 
 
 "Yes , for sartain — wish lh«re never was such a thing as hu- 
 man natur." 
 
376 
 
 After a little conversation, and a supply of money, which I 
 knew would be acceptable, Stapleton went away, leaving me in 
 no very happy state of mind. My regard for Tom was excessive, 
 and his situation one of peculiar danger. Again I repaired to Mr. 
 Wharncliffe for advice , and he readily interested himself most 
 warmly. 
 
 This is, indeed, an awkward business,*' said he, and will 
 require more interest than I am afraid that 1 command. If not 
 condemned to death , he will be sentenced to such a flogging as 
 will break him down in spirits as well as in body, and sink him 
 into an early grave. Death were preferable of the two. Lose no 
 time , Mr. Faithful , in going down to Maidstone , and seeing the 
 colonel commanding the dep6t. I will go to the Horse Guards, 
 and see what is to be done." 
 
 I wrote a hurried note to Sarah to account for my absence, and 
 sent for post horses. Early in the afternoon I arrived at Maidstone, 
 and finding out the residence of the officer commanding the dep6t, 
 sent up my card. In few words I stated to him the reason of my 
 calling upon him. 
 
 ** It will rest altogether with the Horse Guards, Mr. Faithful, 
 and I am afraid I can give you but little hope. His Royal Highness 
 has expressed his determination to punish the next deserter with 
 the utmost severity of the law. His leniency on that point has been 
 very injurious to the service, and he must do it. Besides, there 
 is an aggravation of the offence in his attack upon the sergeant, who 
 has irrecoverably lost his eye." 
 
 ** The sergeant first made him drunk, and then persuaded him * 
 to enlist." I then stated the rivalship that subsisted between them, 
 and continued , *'Is it not disgraceful to enlist men in that way — 
 4Can that be called voluntary service? " 
 
 ''AH very true," replied the officer, **but still expediency 
 winks at even more. I do not attempt to defend the system, but 
 we must have soldiers. The seamen are impressed by force , the 
 soldiers are entrapped by other means, even more discreditable; 
 the only excuse is expediency , or, if you like it better, necessity. 
 All I can promise you , Sir , is , what I would have done even if 
 you had not appealed to me, to allow llic prisoner every comfort 
 
377 
 
 which his situation will permit, and every advantage at his court- 
 martial , which mercy , tempered by justice , will warrant." 
 
 * ' I thank you , Sir ; will you allow me and his betrothed to see 
 him?" 
 
 ** Most certainly ; the order shall be given forth-with." 
 I thanked the officer for his kindness , and took my leave. 
 
 « 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Read it. 
 
 I HASTENED to the black hole where Tom was confined , and 
 the order for my admission having arrived before me , I was per- 
 mitted by the sergeant of the guard to pass the sentry. I found 
 Tom sitting on a bench notching a stick with his knife , whistling a 
 slow tune. 
 
 "This is kind , Jacob, but not more than I expected of you — I 
 made sure that I should see you to-night or to-morrow morning. 
 How 's poor Mary? I care only for her now — I am satisfied — 
 she loves me and — I knocked out the sergeant's eye — spoilt his 
 wooing , at all events." 
 
 *' But, Tom , are you aware of the danger in which you are?" 
 
 *' Yes, Jacob, perfectly; I shall be tried by a court-martial and 
 shot. I 've made up my mind to it — at ail events, it 's better than 
 being hung like a dog, or being flogged to death like a nigger. I 
 shall die like a gentleman , if I have never been one before , that 's 
 some comfort. Nay, I shall go out of the world with as much noise 
 as if a battle had been fought, or a great man had died." 
 
 **How do you mean?" 
 
 ** Why there 'II be more than one bull et-in." 
 **This is no time for jesting,^ Tom." 
 
 **Not for you, Jacob, as a sincere friend, I grant; not for poor 
 Mary, as a devoted girl ; not for my poor father and mother — no, 
 no," continued Tom, ''I feel for them, but for myself I neither fear 
 nor care. I have not done wrong — I was pressed against the law 
 and act of parliament , and I deserted. I was enlisted when I was 
 drunk and mad, and I deserted. — There is no disgrace to me ; the 
 
378 
 
 disgrace is to the government, which suffers such acts. If I am to 
 be a victim , well and good — we can only die once." 
 
 **Very true, Tom; but you are young to die, and we must 
 hope for the best." • 
 
 I have given up all hope , Jacob. I know the law will be put 
 in force — I shall die and go to another and a better world , as the 
 parson says, where, at all events, there will be no muskets to clean, 
 no drill, and none of your confounded pipe-clay, which has almost 
 driven me mad. I should like to die in a bluejacket — ^ in a red 
 coat I will not, so I presume I shall go out of the world in my shirt, 
 and that 's more than I had when I came in." 
 
 *'Mary and her father are coming down to you, Tom." 
 
 ** I 'm sorry for that, Jacob ; it would be cruel not to see her — 
 but she blames herself so much that I cannot bear to read her let- 
 ters. But, Jacob, I will see her, to try if I can comfort her — but 
 she must not stay, she must go back again till after the court-mar- 
 tial , and the sentence , and then — if she wishes to take her fare- 
 well, I suppose I must not refuse." A few tears dropped from his 
 eyes as he said this. ** Jacob , will you wait and take her back to 
 town? — she must not stay here — and I will not see my father and 
 mother until the last. Let us make one job of it , and then all will 
 be over." 
 
 As Tom said this, the door of the cell again opened, and 
 Stapleton supported in his daughter. Mary tottered to where Tom 
 stood , and fell into his arms in a fit of convulsions. It was neces- 
 sary to remove her , and she was carried out. * ' Let her not come 
 in again, I beseech you, Jacob ; take her back, and I will bless you 
 for your kindness. Wish me farewell now , and see that she does 
 not come again." Tom wrung me by the hand, and turned away to 
 conceal his distress. I nodded my head in assent, for I could not 
 speak for emotion , and followect Stapleton and the soldiers who 
 had taken Mary out. As soon as she was recovered sufficiently to 
 require no further medical aid, I lifted her into the postchaise, and 
 ordered the boys to drive back to Brentford. Mary continued in a 
 state of stupor during the journey ; and when I arrived at my own 
 house, I gave her into the charge of the gardener's wife, and de- 
 spatched her husband for medical assistance. The application of 
 
379 
 
 Mr. Wharncliffe was of little avail, and he returned to me w ith dis- 
 appointment in his countenance. The whole of the next week was 
 the most distressing that I ever passed ; arising from my anxiety 
 for Tom , my daily exertions to reason Mary into some degree of 
 submission to the will of Providence — her accusations of herself 
 and her own folly — her incoherent ravings , calling herself Tom's 
 murderer, which alarmed me for her reason; the distress of old 
 Tom and his wife , who , unable to remain in their solitude , came 
 all to me for intelligence, for comfort , and for what, alas ! I dare 
 not give them — hope. All this, added to my separation from Sa- 
 rah, during my attendance to what I considered my duty, reduced 
 me to a debility , arising from mental exertion , which changed me 
 to almost a skeleton. 
 
 At last , the court-martial was held , and Tom was condemned 
 to death. The sentence was approved of, and we were told that all 
 appeals would be unavailing. We received the news on the Satur- 
 day evening, and Tom was to suffer on the Tuesday morning. I 
 could no longer refuse the appeals of Mary; indeed, I received a 
 letter from Tom , requesting that all of us , the Domine included, 
 would come down and bid him farewell. I hired a carriage for old 
 Tom, his wife, Stapleton, and Mary, and putting the Domine and 
 myself in my own chariot, we set oif early on the Sunday morning 
 for Maidstone. We arrived about eleven o'clock, and put up at 
 an inn close to the barracks. It was arranged that the Domine and 
 I should see Tom first, then his father and mother, and, lastly, 
 Mary Stapleton. 
 
 ** Verily," said the Domine, **my heart is heavy, exceeding 
 hea^7 ; my soul yearneth after the poor lad , who is thus to lose 
 his life for a woman — a woman from whose toils I did myself 
 escape. Yet is she exceeding fair and comely , and now that it is 
 unavailing, appeareth to be penitent." 
 
 I made no reply; we had arrived at the gate of the barracks. 
 I requested to be admitted to the prisoner, and the doors were 
 unbarred. Tom was dressed with great care and cleanliness — 
 in white trowsers and shirt and waistcoat, but his coat lay on the 
 table ; he would not put it on. He extended his hand towards me 
 with a faint smile 
 
380 
 
 *'It 's all over now, Jacob; and there is no hope, that I am 
 aware of, and have made up my mind to die; — but I wish these 
 last farewells were over, for they unman me. I hope you are well, 
 Sir," continued Tom , to the Domine. 
 
 *'Nay, my poor boy, I am as well as age and infirmity will 
 permit, and why should I complain when I see youth, health, and 
 strength, about to be sacrificed; and many made miserable, when 
 many might be made so happy?" and the Domine blew his nose, 
 the trumpet sound of which re-echoed through the cell , so as to 
 induce the sentry to look through the bars. 
 
 *'They are all here, Tom," said I, would you like to see 
 them now?" 
 
 Yes ; the sooner it is over the better." 
 Will you see your father and mother first? " 
 
 *'Yes;" replied Tom, in a faltering tone. 
 
 I went out, and returned with the old woman on my arm, 
 folloijved by old Tom , who stumped after me with the assistance 
 6f his stick. Poor old Mrs. Beazeley fell on her son's neek, 
 sobbing convulsively. 
 
 ** My boy — my boy — my dear, dear boy!" said she, at last, 
 and she looked up stedfastly in his face. *'My God! he '11 be 
 dead to-morrow!" 
 
 Her head again sank on his shoulder, and her sobs were 
 choking her. Tom kissed his mother's forehead as the tears 
 coursed down his cheeks , and motioned me to take her away. 
 I placed her down on the floor, where she remained silent, moving 
 her head up and down with a slow motion , her face buried in her 
 shawl. It was but now and then that you heard a convulsive 
 drawing of her breath. Old Tom had remained a silent but 
 agitated spectator of the scene. Every muscle in his weather- 
 beaten countenance twitched convulsively, and the tears at last 
 forced their way through the deep furrows on his cheeks. Tom, 
 as soon as his mother was removed, took his father by the hand, 
 and they sat down together. 
 
 You are not angry with me, father, for deserting?" 
 
 **No, my boy, no. I was angry with you for 'listing, but 
 deserting. What business had you with the pipe-clay? 
 
381 
 
 But I do think I have reason to be angry elsewhere , when I reflect 
 that after having lost my two good legs in defending her, my country 
 is now to take from me my boy in his prime. It 's but a poor 
 reward for long and hard service — poor encouragement to do your 
 duty ; but what do they care? they have had my sarvices, and they 
 have left me a hulk. Well, they may take the rest of me , if they 
 
 please, now that they Well it 's no use crying, what's done 
 
 can't be helped," continued old Tom, as the tears ran down ia 
 torrents; **they may shoot you, Tom; but this I know well, 
 you'll die game, and shame them by proving to them they have 
 deprived themselves of the sarvices of a good man when good men 
 are needed. I would not have so much cared," continued old 
 Tom, after a pause, — (*Mook to the old woman, Jacob, she's 
 tumbling over to port) — if you had fallen on board a king's ship, 
 in a good frigate action ; some must be killed when there 's hard 
 fighting; but to be drilled through by your own countrymen, to die 
 by their hands , and , worst of all , to die in a red coat , instead of 
 true blue " 
 
 ** Father, I will not die in a red coat — I won't put it on.'* 
 
 ** That's some comfort, Tom, any how, and comfort's wanted." 
 And I '11 die like a man, father." 
 
 "That you will , Tom , and that 's some comfort," 
 
 **We shall meet again, father." 
 
 **Hope so, Tom, in heaven — that 's some comfort." 
 
 ** And now, father, bless me, and take care of my poor mother." 
 
 ** Bless you, Tom, bless you ! " cried the old man , in a suflb- 
 cating voice, extending both his hands towards Tom, as they 
 rose up ; but the equilibrium was no longer to be maintained, 
 and he reeled back in the arms of me and Tom. We lowered him 
 gently down by the side of his wife ; the old couple turned to each 
 other, and embracing, remained sobbing in each other's arms. 
 
 ** Jacob," said Tom, squeezing me by the hand, with a 
 quivering lip , **by your regard for me , let now the last scene be 
 got over — let me see Mary , and let this tortured heart once more 
 be permitted a respite." I sent out the Domine. Tom leant against 
 the wall, with his arms folded, in appearance summoning up all 
 his energy for the painful meeting. Mary was led in by her fn**-"- 
 
382 
 
 I expected she would have swooned away , as before ; but , on the 
 contrary, although she was pale as death , and gasping for breath, 
 from intensity of feeling, she walked up to Tom where he was 
 standing, and sat down on the form close to him. She looked 
 anxiously round upon the group , and then said, I know that all 
 I now say is useless , Tom ; but still I must say it — it is I who, 
 by my folly, have occasioned all this distress and misery — it is I 
 who have caused you to suffer a — dreadful death — yes , Tom, 
 I am your murderer." 
 
 Not so , Mary, the folly was my own replied Tom, taking 
 her hand. 
 
 ** You cannot disguise or palliate to me, dearest Tom," replied 
 Mary, *'my eyes have been opened, too late it is true, but they 
 have been opened ; and although it is kind of you to say so , I feel 
 the horrid conviction of my own guilt. See what misery I have 
 brought about. There is a father who has sacrificed his youth and 
 his limbs to his country, sobbing in the arms of a mother whose 
 life is bound up with that of her only son. To them ," continued 
 Mary, falling down upon her knees, *'to them I must kneel for 
 pardon, and 1 ask it as they hope to be forgiven. Answer me — oh ! 
 answer me ! can you forgive a wretch like me?" 
 
 A pause ensued. I went up to old Tom, and kneeling by his 
 side , begged him to answer. 
 
 *' Forgive her, poor thing — yes; who could refuse it , as she 
 kneels there? Come," continued he. speaking to his wife, **you 
 must forgive her. Look up, dame, at her, and think that our poor 
 boy may be asking the same of heaven to-morrow at noon." 
 
 The old woman looked up , and her dimmed eyes caught a 
 sight of Mary's imploring and beautiful attitude ; it was not to be 
 withstood. 
 
 ** As I hope for mercy to my poor boy , whom you have killed, 
 so do I forgive you , unhappy young woman." 
 
 **May God reward you , when you are summoned before him," 
 replied Mary. **It was the hardest task of all. Of you, Jacob, 
 I have to ask forgiveness for depriving you of your early and truest 
 friend — yes, and for much more. Of you, Sir," addressing the 
 
383 
 
 Doraine, "for my conduct towards you, which was cruel and 
 indefensible, — will you forgive me? " 
 
 **Yes, Mary, from my heart, I do forgive you," replied I. 
 
 ** Bless thee, maiden, bless thee!" sobbed the Domine. 
 
 "Father, I must ask of you the same — I have been a wilful 
 child, — forgive me!" 
 
 "Yes, Mary; you could not help it," replied old Stapleton, 
 blubbering, "it was all human natur." 
 
 "And now," said Mary, turning round on her knees to Tom, 
 with a look expressive of anguish and love, "to you , Tom, must 
 be my last appeal. I know you will forgive me — I know you 
 have — and this knowledge of your fervent love makes the thought 
 more bitter that I have caused your death. But hear me, Tom, and 
 all of you hear me. I never loved but you ; I have liked others 
 much, I liked Jacob, but you only ever did make me feel I had 
 a heart; and alas ! you only have I sacrificed. When led away by 
 my folly to give you pain , I suffered more than you — for you have 
 had my only, you shall have my eternal and unceasing, love. To 
 your memory I am hereafter wedded, to join you will be my only 
 wish — and if there could be a boon granted me from Heaven , it 
 would be to die with you, Tom — yes, in those dear arms." 
 
 Mary held out her arms to Tom, who falling down on his 
 knees, embraced her, and thus they remained with their faces 
 buried in each other's shoulders. The whole scene was now at its 
 climax ; it was too oppressive , and I felt faint , when 1 was roused 
 by the voice of the Domine , who , lifting up both his arms , and 
 extending them forth, solemnly prayed, "OLord, look down 
 upon these Thy servants , in affliction ; grant to those who are to 
 continue in their pilgrimage strength to bear Thy chastening — 
 grant to him who is to be summoned to Thee , that happines which 
 the world cannot give ; and 0 God most mighty, God most power- 
 ful, lay not upon us burthens greater than we can bear. — My 
 children , let us pray." 
 
 The Domine knelt down, and repeated the Lord's prayer ; all 
 followed his example, and then there was a pause. 
 
 "Stapleton," said I, pointing to Mary. I beckoned to the 
 Domine. We assisted up old Tom, and then his wife, and led 
 
384 
 
 them away; the poor old woman was in a state of stupefaction, 
 and until she was out in the air was not aware that she had quitted 
 her son. Stapleton had attempted to detach Mary from Tom , but 
 in vain; they were locked together as if in death. At last Tom, 
 roused by me , suffered his hold to be loosened , and Mary was 
 taken out in a happy state of insensibility , and carried to the inn 
 by her father and the Domine. 
 
 **Are they all gone?" whispered Tom to me, as his head 
 reclined on my shoulder. 
 
 "All, Tom." 
 
 *'Then the bitterness of death is passed; God have mercy on 
 them , and assuage their anguish ; they want His help more than 
 I do." 
 
 A passionate flood of tears , which lasted some minutes , re- 
 lieved the poor fellow; he raised himself, and drying his eyes, 
 became more composed. 
 
 Jacob, I hardly need tell my dying request, to watch over 
 my poor father and mother , to comfort poor Mary — God bless 
 you, Jacob! you have indeed been a faithful friend, and may 
 God reward you. And now, Jacob, leave me; I must commune 
 with my God, and pray for forgiveness. The space between 
 me and eternity is but short." 
 
 Tom threw himself into my arms , where he remained for some 
 minutes ; he then broke gently away , and pointed to the door. I 
 once more took his hand, and we parted. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 In 'which, as nsual in the last chapter of a work, every thing is wound 
 up much to the reader's satisfaction, and not a little to the author's, 
 who lays down his pen, exclaiming, thank God! 
 
 I WENT back to the inn, and ordering the horses to be put to, 
 I explained to all but Mary the propriety of their now returning 
 home. Mary was lifted iq , and it was a relief to my mind to see 
 them all depart. As for myself , I resolved to remain until the 
 last; but I was in a state of feverish agitation, which made me 
 
385 
 
 restless. As I paced up and down the room , the newspaper 
 caught my eye. I laid hold of it mechanically, and looked at it. 
 A paragraph rivetted my attention. '*His Majesty's ship Immor- 
 talite, Chatham, to be paid off." Then our ship had come home. 
 But what was that now? Yet something whispered to me that I 
 ought to go to see Captain Maclean , and try if any thing could be 
 done. I knew his commanding interest, and although it was now 
 too late, still I had an impulse to go and see him, which I could 
 not resist. **After all," said I to myself, ''Vm of no use here, 
 and I may as well go." This feeling, added to my restlessness, 
 induced me to order horses, and I went to Chatham, found out 
 that Captain Maclean was still on board, and took boat off to the 
 frigate. I was recognised by the officers, who were glad to see me, 
 and I sent a message to the captain , who was below, requesting 
 to see him. I was asked into the cabin, and stated to him what 
 had occurred, requesting his assistance, if possible. 
 
 *' Faithful," replied he, *' it appears that Tom Beazeley has 
 deserted twice; still there is much extenuation : at all events, the 
 punishment of death is too severe, and I don't like it — I can 
 save him, and I will. By the rule of the services , a deserter from 
 one service can be claimed from the other, and must be tried by 
 his officers. His sentence is, therefore, not legal. I shall send 
 a party of marines, and claim him a^ deserter from the Navy, and 
 they must and shall give him up — make yourself easy , Faithful, 
 his life is as safe as yours. " 
 
 I could have fallen on my knees and thanked him , though I 
 could hardly believe that such good news was true. 
 
 *' There is no lime to lose. Sir," replied I, respectfully: **he 
 is to be shot to-morrow, at nine o' clock." 
 
 *'He will be on board here to-morrow, at nine o'clock, or I 
 am not Captain Maclean. But, as you say, there is no time to 
 lose. It is now nearly dark, and the party must be off imme- 
 diately. I must write a letter on service to the commanding officer 
 of the dep6t. Call my clerk." 
 
 I ran out and called the clerk. In a few minutes the letter was 
 written, and a party of marines, with the second lieutenant, 
 dispatched with me on shore. I ordered postchaises for the whole 
 
 Jacob Faithfuh 
 
386 
 
 party, and before eleven we were at Maidstone. The lieutenant 
 and I sat up all night, and, at daylight, we summoned the marines 
 and went to the barracks, where we found the awful note of prepa- 
 ration going forward, and the commanding officer up and attending 
 to the arrangements. I introduced the lieutenant, who presented 
 the letter on service. 
 
 *' Good heavens ; how fortunate ! You can establish his identity, 
 I presume. " 
 
 Every man here can swear to him." 
 
 ***T is sufficient, Mr. Faithful. I wish you and your friend 
 joy of this reprieve. The rules of the service must be obeyed, and 
 you will sign a receipt for the prisoner.*' 
 
 This was done by the lieutenant, and the provost marshal was 
 ordered to deliver up the prisoner. I hastened with the marines 
 into the cell : the door was unlocked. Tom , who was reading his 
 Bible, started up, and perceiving the red jackets , thought that he 
 was to be led out to execution. 
 
 *'My lads," exclaimed he, **I am ready: the sooner this is 
 over the better." 
 
 *'No, Tom," said I, advancing; " I trust for better fortune. 
 You are claimed as a deserter from the Immortality. " 
 
 Tom stared, lifted the hair from his forehead, and threw 
 himself into my arms : but we had no time for a display of feelings. 
 We hurried Tom away from tSe barracks ; again I put the whole 
 party into chaises , and we soon arrived at Chatham , where we 
 embarked on board of the frigate. Tom was given into the charge 
 of the master-at-arms , as a deserter, and a letter was written by 
 Captain Maclean, demanding a court martial on him. 
 
 ** What will be the result?" inquired I of the first lieutenant. 
 
 **The captain says , little or nothing , as he was pressed as an 
 apprentice, which is contrary to act of parliament." 
 
 I went down to cheer Tom with this intelligence, and, taking 
 my leave , set off for London with a light heart. Still I thought it 
 better not to communicate this good news until assurance was 
 made doubly sure. I hastened to Mr. Drummond's, and detailed 
 to them all which had passed. The next day Mr. Wharnclilfe went 
 with me to the Admiralty, where I had the happiness to find that 
 
3S7 
 
 all was legal , and that Tom could only be tried for his desertion 
 from a man-of-war ; and that, if he could prove that he was an ap- 
 prentice, he would in all probability be acquitted. The court 
 martial was summoned three days after the letter had been received 
 by the Admiralty. I hastened down to Chatham to be present. It 
 was very short: the desertion was proved, and Tom was- called 
 upon for his defence. He produced his papers , and proved that 
 he was pressed before his time had expired. The court was cleared 
 for a few minutes , and then re-opened ; Tom was acquitted on the 
 ground of illegal detention , contrary to act of parliament, and he 
 was free. I returned my thanks to Captain Maclean and the offi- 
 cers for their kindness , and left the ship with Tom in the cutter, 
 ordered for me by the first lieutenant. My heart swelled with gra- 
 titude at the happy result. Tom was silent, but his feelings 1 
 could well analyse. I gave to the men of the boat five guineas to 
 drink Tom's health, and, hastening to the inn, ordered the car- 
 riage, and with Tom, who was a precious deposit, for upon his 
 welfare depended the happiness of so many, I hurried to London 
 as fast as I could, stopped at the Drummonds to communicate the 
 happy intelligence , and then proceeded to my own house, whers 
 we slept. The next morning I dressed Tom in some of my clothes, 
 and we embarked in the wherry. 
 
 **Now, Tom," said I, *'you must keep in thevback-ground at 
 first , while I prepare them. Where shall we go first? " 
 
 **OhI to my mother," replied Tom. 
 
 We passed through Putney Bridge, and Tom's bosom heaved 
 as he looked towards the residence of Mary. His heart was there, 
 poor fellow ! and he longed to have flown to the poor girl , and have 
 dried her tears ; but his first duty was |o his parents. 
 
 We soon arrived abreast of the residence of the old couple , and 
 I desired Tom to pull in, but not turn his head round, lest they 
 should see him before I had prepared them ; for too much joy will 
 kill as '^ell as grief. Old Tom was not at his work, and all was 
 quiet. I landed and went to the house, opened the door, and 
 found them both sitting by the kitchen fire in silence , apparently 
 occupied with watching the smoke as it ascended up the spacious 
 chimney. 
 
 25* 
 
388 
 
 Good morning to you both /' said I ; **how do you find your 
 self, Mrs.Beazeley?" 
 
 Ah ! deary me ! " replied the old woman , putting her apron 
 up to her eyes. 
 
 Sit down. Jacob, sit down," said old Tom; **we can talk of 
 him now." 
 
 Yes , now that he *s in heaven , poor fellow ! " interposed the 
 old woman. 
 
 ** Tell me , Jacob ," said old Tom , with a quivering lip , did 
 you see the last of him? Tell me all about it. How did he look? 
 How did he behave? Was he soon out of his pain? And — Jacob 
 — where is he buried?" 
 
 Yes, yes," sobbed Mrs. Beazeley; **tell me where is the body 
 of my poor child." 
 
 ** Can you bear to talk about him? " said I. 
 Yes , yes ; we can 't talk too much : it does us good ," replied 
 she. *'We have done nothing but talk about him since we left 
 him." 
 
 And shall , till we sink into our own graves ," said old Tom, 
 which won't be long, I 've nothing to wish for now, and I '11 
 never sing again , that 's sartain. We sha'n't last long, either of 
 us. As for me ," continued the old man with a melancholy smile, 
 looking down at his stumps , I may well say that I 've two feet in 
 the grave already. But come , Jacob , tell us all about him." 
 
 ''I will," replied I: ''and my dear Mrs. Beazeley, you must 
 prepare yourself for different tidings than what you expect. Tom is 
 not yet shot." 
 
 "Not dead ! " shrieked the old woman. 
 
 ' ' Not yet , Jacob ; " cried old Tom , seizing me by the arm , and 
 squeezing it with the force of a vice , as he looked me earnestly in 
 the face. 
 
 *'He lives : and I am in hopes he will be pardoned." 
 Mrs. Beazeley sprang from her chair and seized me by fiie other 
 arm. 
 
 *'Isee — I see by your face ! Yes, Jacob, he is pardoned ; and 
 we shall have our Tom again." 
 
389 
 
 ** You are right, Mrs. Beazeley ; he is pardoned , and will soon 
 be here." 
 
 The old couple sank down on their knees beside me. I left 
 them , and beckoned from the door to Tom , who flew up , and in a 
 moment was in their arms. I assisted him to put his mother into 
 her chair, and then went out to recover myself from the agitating 
 scene. I remained about an hour outside, and then returned. 
 The old couple seized me by the hands , and invoked blessings on 
 my head. 
 
 ** You must now part with Tom a little while," said I; ** there 
 are others to make happy besides yourselves." 
 
 **Very true," replied old Tom; **go, my lad, and comfort her. 
 Come , missus , we musn't forget others." 
 
 *'0h no. Go, Tom; go and tell her that I don't care how 
 soon she is my daughter." 
 
 Tom embraced his mother and followed me to the boat : we 
 pulled up against the tide , and were soon at Putney. 
 
 ** Tom , you had better stay in the boat. I will either come or 
 send for you." 
 
 It was very unwillingly that Tom consented , but I overruled 
 his entreaties, and he remained. I walked to Mary's house and 
 entered. She was up in the little parlour, dressed in deep mourn- 
 ing ; when I entered she was looking out upon the river; she turned 
 her head , and perceiving me , rose to meet me. 
 
 **You do not come to upbraid me, Jacob, lam sure," said 
 she , in a melancholy voice ; **you are too kind-hearted for that." 
 
 *'No, no, Mary; I am come to comfort you, if possible." 
 
 **That is not possible. Look at me, Jacob. Is there not a 
 worm — a canker — that gnaws within?" 
 
 The hollow cheek , and wild flaring eye , once so beautiful , but 
 too plainly told the truth. 
 
 **Mary," said I, ** sit down; you know what the Bible says, 
 — * It is good for us to be afflicted.' " 
 
 "Yes, yes," sobbedMary, *'I deserve all I sufl*er; and I bow 
 in humility. But am I not too much punished , Jacob? Not that I 
 would repine : but is it not too much for me to bear , when I think 
 that I am the destroyer of one who loved me so? " 
 
390 
 
 You have not been the destroyer, Mary." 
 
 ** Yes , yes ; my heart tells me that I have." 
 But I tell you that you have not. Say, Mary, dreadful as 
 the punishment has been , would you not kiss the rod with thank- 
 fulness, if it cured you of your unfortunate disposition, and pre- 
 pared you to make a good wife?" 
 
 "That it has cured me , Jacob , I can safely assert; but it has 
 also killed me as well as him. But I wish not to live ; and I trust, 
 in a few short months , to repose by his side." 
 
 **I hope, you will have your wish, Mary, very soon, but not 
 in death." 
 
 *' Merciful heavens ! what do you mean , Jacob ? " 
 
 **I said you were not the destroyer of poor Tom — you have 
 not been, he has not yet suffered; there was an informality, 
 which has induced them to revise the sentence." 
 
 Jacob," repliedMary, *' it is cruelty to raise my hopes only 
 to crush them again. If not yet dead , he is still to die. I wish 
 you had not told me so," continued she, bursting into tears; 
 *' what a state of agony and suspense must he have been in all this 
 time , and I — I have caused his sufferings ! I trusted he had long 
 been released from this cruel heartless world." 
 
 The flood of tears which followed, assured me that I could 
 safely impart the glad intelligence. '*Mary , Mary, listen to me." 
 
 *' Leave me, leave me," sobbed Mary, waving her hand. 
 No , Mary , not until I tell that Tom is not only alive , but — 
 pardoned." 
 
 * ' Pardoned ! " shrieked Mary. 
 Yes , pardoned , Mary , — free , Mary , — and in a few mi- 
 nutes will be in your arms." 
 
 Mary dropped on her knees , raised her hands and eyes to 
 heaven , and then fell into a state of insensibility. Tom who had 
 followed me, and remained near the house , had heard the shriek, 
 and could no longer retain himself; he flew into the room as Mary 
 fell , ^nd I put her into his arms. At the first signs of returning 
 sensibility I left them together, and went to find old Stapleton , to 
 whom I was more brief in my communication. Stapleton con- 
 tinued to smoke his pipe during my narrative. 
 
391 
 
 Glad'of it, glad of it," said he, when I finished, **I were 
 just thinking how all these senses brought us into trouble, more 
 than all , that sense of love : got me into trouble , and made me 
 kill a man , — got my poor wife into trouble, and drowned her, — 
 and now almost shot Tom, and killed Mary. Had too mijch of 
 HUMAN NATUR lately , — nothing but moist eyes and empty pipes. 
 Met that sergeant yesterday , had a turn up : Tom settled one eye, 
 and , old as I am , I 've settled the other for a time. He 's in bed 
 for a fortnight, — couldn't help it, — human natur." 
 
 I took leave of Stapleton, and calling in upon Tom and Mary, 
 shaking hands with the one, and kissing the other, I dispatched a 
 letter to the Domine , acquainting him with what had passed , and 
 then hastened to the Drummonds and imparted the happy results 
 to my morning's work to Sarah and her mother. 
 
 '* And now , Sarah , having so successfully arranged the affairs 
 of other people , I should like to plead in my own behalf. I think 
 that after having been deprived almost wholly of your dear com- 
 pany for a month , I deserve to be rewarded." 
 
 **You do, indeed, Jacob," said Mrs. Drummond, *'and 
 I am sure that Sarah thinks so too, if she will but acknowledge 
 it." 
 
 **I do acknowledge it, mamma; but what is this reward to 
 be?" 
 
 *'That you will allow your father and mother to arrange an 
 early day for our nuptials , and also allow Tom and Mary to be 
 united at the same altar." 
 
 * ' Mamma , have I not always been a dutiful daughteV ? " 
 
 **Yes, my love, you have." 
 Then I shall do as I am bidden by my parents, Jacob: it will 
 be probably the last command I receive from them , and I shall 
 obey it ; will that please you , dear Jacob ? " 
 
 That evening the day was fixed , and now I must not weary the 
 reader with a description of my feelings , or of my happiness in 
 the preparations for the ceremony. Sarah and I, Mary and Tom, 
 were united on the same day, and there was nothing to cloud our 
 happiness. Tom took up his abode with his father and mother; 
 and Mary, radiant with happiness, even more beautiful than ever, 
 
302 
 
 has settled down into an excellent, doting wife. For Sarah, I 
 hardly need say the same; she was my friend from childhood, 
 she is now all that a man could hope and wish for. We have 
 been married several years, and are blessed with a numerous 
 family. 
 
 I am now almost at a conclusion. I have only to acquaint the 
 reader with a few particulars relative to my early friends. Sta- 
 pleton is still alive, and is wedded to his pipe, which, with him, 
 although the taste for tobacco has been considered as an acquired 
 one, may truly be asserted to be human nature. He has two 
 wherries with apprentices , and from them gains a good livelihood, 
 without working himself. He says that the boys are not so honest 
 as I was, and cheat him not a little; but he consoles himself by 
 asserting that it is nothing but human natur. Old Tom is also 
 strong and hearty, and says that he don't intend to follow his legs 
 for some time yet. His dame, he says, is peaking, but Mary 
 requires no assistance. Old Tom has left off mending boats, his 
 sign is taken down , for he is now comfortable. When Tom 
 married , I asked him what he wished to do : he requested me to 
 lend him money to purchase a lighter. I made him a present of a 
 new one, just launched by Mr. Drummond's firm. But old Sta- 
 pleton made over to him the 200 £ left to him by Mr. Turnbull, 
 and his mother brought out an equal sum from her hoards. This 
 enabled Tom to purchase another lighter, and now he has six or 
 seven , I forget which ; at all events , he is well off, and adding to 
 his wealth every year. They talk of removing to a better house, 
 but the old couple wish to remain. Old Tom, especially, has 
 built an arbour where the old boat stood , and sits there carolling 
 his songs , and watching the craft as they go up and down the 
 river. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Wharncliffe still continue my neighbours and 
 dearest friends. Mrs. Turnbull died a few months back , and I am 
 now in possession of the whole property. My father and mother- 
 in-law are well and happy. Mr. Drummond will retire from 
 business as soon as he can wind up his multifarious concerns. 
 I have but one more to speak of — the old Domine. It is now two 
 years since I closed the eyes of this worthy man . As he increased in 
 
893 
 
 years so did he iu his abstraction of mind, and the governors of the 
 charity thought it necessary to superannuate him with a pension. 
 It was a heavy blow to the old man , who asserted his capabilities to 
 continue to instruct; but people thought otherwise, and he ac- 
 cepted my offer to take up his future residence with us , upon the 
 understanding that it was necessary that our children , the eldest of 
 whom , at that time , was but four years old , should be instructed 
 in Latin and Greek. He removed to us with all his books , 6cc, not 
 forgetting the formidable birch ; but as the children would not take 
 to the Latin of their own accord , and Mrs. Faithful would not allow 
 the rod to be made use of, the Domine's occupation was gone. 
 Still such was the force of habit , that he never went without the 
 Latin grammar in his pocket, and I have often watched him sitting 
 down in the poultry-yard , fancying , I presume , that he was in his 
 school. There would he decline, construe, and conjugate aloud, 
 his only witnesses being the poultry, who would now and then 
 raise a gobble, gobble, gobble, while the ducks with their quack, 
 quack, quack, were still more impertinent in their replies. 
 A sketch of him, in this position, has been taken by Sarah, and 
 now hangs over the mantel-piece of my study, between two of Mr. 
 TurnbuH's drawings , one of an iceberg on the 17th of August 78, 
 and the other showing the dangerous position of the Camel whaler, 
 jammed between the floe of ice, in latitude — , and longitude — . 
 
 Reader, I have now finished my narrative. There are two 
 morals, I trust, to be drawn from the events of my life, one of 
 which is, that in society we naturally depend upon each other for 
 support, and that he who would assert his independence , throws 
 himself out of the current which bears to advancement; — the 
 other is, that with the advantages of good education, and good 
 principle, although it cannot be expected that every one will be so 
 fortunate as I have been , still there is every reasonable hope , and 
 every right to expect, that we shall do well in this world. Thrown 
 up , as the Domine expressed himself, as a tangle weed from the 
 river, you have seen the orphan and charity-boy rise to wealth and 
 consideration , — you have seen how he who was friendless , se- 
 cured to himself the warmest friends , — he who required every 
 thing from others, became in a situation to protect and assist in 
 
394 
 
 return — he who could not call one individual his relation , — 
 united to the object of his attachment, and blessed with a 
 numerous family; and to amass all these advantages and this sum 
 of happiness , the only capital with which he embarked was a good 
 education and good principles. 
 Reader, farewell! 
 
 THE END 
 
GETTY CENTER LIBRARY 
 
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