The Runaway. Unknown

and then you'll have no trouble in shipping."

      Rodney was a good deal frightened at such a reply, and walked on for some time, not venturing to ask again. Toward noon he went on board a large vessel, and seeing a man, whom he took for the captain of the ship, asked him if he could give him a place.

      "No, my boy," he replied; "we don't sail for three weeks, and we never ship a crew before the time."

      All day he wandered about the wharves, and to all his questions received repelling replies, mingled oftentimes with oaths, jeers, and insults. No one seemed to feel the least interest for him.

      CHAPTER IV

      RODNEY FINDS A PATRON

      LATE in the afternoon Rodney strolled up the East River wharves. He was hungry, for he had eaten nothing all day. He was very sad, and sat down on a cotton bale, and cried. In what a position had a single day placed him! He had no place where he could lay his head for the night, no bread to eat, and he knew nobody whom he dared to ask for a meal; and so, with a sorrowful heart, he sat down and wept.

      He buried his face in his hands, and for a long time sat there motionless. He did not know that a man was standing before him, watching him, until he was startled by a voice:

      "Why, my boy, what is the matter with you?"

      He looked up, and saw a tall man in a sailor's dress standing near him.

      "I want to get a place on a ship, sir, to go to sea," replied Rodney; "I can't find any place, and I have no money and no friends here."

      The man sat down beside him, and asked him, "Where are your friends?"

      "In Albany, sir."

      "What did you leave them for?"

      "Because I wanted to go to sea."

      They talked some time together, and Rodney told him truly all about himself and his friends. The man seemed to pity him, and told him that he was a sailor, and had lately been discharged from a United States vessel, where he had served as a marine,—that he had spent almost all his money, and was looking for another ship. He told Rodney to go with him, and he would try what could be done for him. They went into a sailors' boarding-house, and got something to eat.

      Then the man,—who said his name was Bill Seegor, and that he must call him Bill, and not Mister, nor sir,—took him with himself into a ball-room. Here he saw a great many sailors and bad women, who danced together, and laughed, and shouted, and cursed, and drank, until long past midnight. Rodney had never witnessed such a scene. He had never heard such filthy and blasphemous language, nor seen such indecent behavior.

      "Come, my lad," said a bluff sailor to him; "if you mean to be a man, you must learn to toss off your glass. Your white face don't look as if you ever tasted anything stronger than tea. Here is a glass of grog,—down with it!"

      And Rodney, who wanted to be a man, drank it with a swaggering air, though it scorched his throat; and then another, until he became very sick;—and the last he remembered was, that the sailors and the women all seemed to be swearing and fighting together.