I had no great hopes of finding a better home than I had on board the ship, but I had been placed there by Leary, and that was sufficient reason for my wishing to leave her. He had driven me from my own home, and I would not live in one of his choosing.
I resolved, therefore, to take leave of the ship if Stormy would allow me to become his companion, and even if he should not, I had more than half determined upon running away.
Volume One—Chapter Four.
A Change of Calling.
Two days before we reached New Orleans, Stormy Jack expressed some sham contrition for what he had done, with an inclination to return to his duty. He was liberated, and once more the deck was enlivened by the sound of his rough manly voice giving the necessary orders for working the ship.
I found a favourable opportunity of telling him, that I should like to go along with him. At first he objected to aid me, and urged me to remain, as a reason for my doing so, urging the argument: that a boy serving his apprenticeship was much better off than one wandering about without a home.
To me this argument was worth nothing. The idea of remaining for seven years in a situation chosen for me by Mr Leary, was too absurd to be seriously entertained for a moment. I told Stormy so; and he finally consented that I should go with him.
“My reason for objecting at first,” said he, “was because I did not like to be troubled with you; but that’s not exactly the right sort o’ feeling for a Christian to steer by. One should expect to have some trouble with those as need a helping hand, and I don’t know why I should try to shirk from my share of it.”
I promised Stormy that I would try not to cause him any trouble, or as little as possible.
“Of course you will try,” said he, “or if you don’t, I’ll teach you manners.”
Stormy’s threat did not alarm me; and our conversation at the time ended—leaving me well pleased with the prospect of getting clear of the ship, by his assistance.
Stormy’s return to duty was only a pretence. It was done to deceive the officers—so that he might the more easily find an opportunity of escaping from the ship.
Two days after our arrival in the port of New Orleans, he was allowed liberty to go ashore; and I was permitted to accompany him. The Captain probably supposed that the wages due to Stormy would bring him back; and the suspicion, that a boy like myself should wish to leave the ship, had never entered into his mind.
Several of our shipmates went ashore along with us; and the first thing we all thought of was, what the reader will readily imagine, to find a place where strong drink was sold. This is usually a sailor’s first thought on going ashore after a voyage.
After having taken two or three glasses with our shipmates, Stormy gave me a wink, and sidled towards the door. I followed him; and slipping unperceived into the street, we turned a corner, and kept on through several streets—until we had arrived at another part of the city. The little that Stormy had drunk had by this time only sharpened his appetite for more.
“Here I am,” said he, “with clear twelve shillings in my pocket. What a spell of fun I could have, if ’twas not for you! Seven weeks without a spree, and now can’t have it because I’ve you to take care of. Thought ’twould be so. Rowley, my boy! see what I’m suffering for you. You are teaching me manners, whether I’m willing to larn ’em or not.”
I allowed the sailor to go on uninterrupted with his storm of complaints, although there was a reflection in my mind, that if I was keeping him from getting drunk, the obligation was not all on my side.
Stormy had but twelve shillings, and I half-a-crown, which the Captain had given to me before coming ashore.
It was necessary that something should be done, before this money should be all spent.
Under ordinary circumstances, the sailor need not have felt any apprehension, about being out of money. He could easily get employment in another vessel; but as matters stood, Stormy was afraid of being caught, should he attempt to join another ship—before that from which he had deserted had taken her departure from the port. If caught, Stormy knew he would be punished; and this rendered him a trifle serious.
The next day we passed in wandering about the city—taking care to avoid all places where we would be likely to meet with any of the officers, or men of the ship “Hope.”
Stormy’s thoughts were all day in a fearful storm, commingled with anxiety as to what we should do to make a living.
“On your account, Rowley,” said he, “I’m not misinclined for a spell on shore, if I could find anything to do, but that’s the trouble. There’s not much work ashore, that be proper for an honest man to bear a hand in. What little of such work there is here, is done by darkies, while white men do all the cheating and scheming. Howsomever, lad, we must try to get at something.”
The next day Stormy did try; and obtained work at rigging a new ship, that had just been launched. The job would last for a month. The wages were good; and the storm in Stormy’s mind had now subsided into an agreeable calm.
We sought a cheap lodging-house, not far from where his work was to be performed; and that evening the sailor indulged in a pipe and a glass, from which he had prudently refrained during all the day.
I was unwilling that the burden of supporting me should be borne by my generous protector; and being anxious to do something for myself, I asked him what I should go about.
“I’ve just been thinking of that,” said he, “and I believe I’ve hit upon an idea. Suppose you sell newspapers? I see many lads about your age in that business here; and they must make something at it. It’s not hard work, besides it appears to be very respectable. It is a lit’rary business, as no boy should be ’shamed of.”
I approved of the plan, and joyfully agreed to give it a trial.
It was arranged that the next morning I should go to the office of a daily paper—buy a bundle of copies; and try to dispose of them at a profit.
Early the next morning, Stormy started off to his work on the ship, and I to a newspaper office.
I reached the place too early to get out the papers; but found several boys waiting like myself. I joined their company, listened to them, and was much interested in their conversation, without very clearly comprehending what they were talking about.
I could distinctly hear every word they said; but the meaning of the words I knew not, for the most of them were slang phrases—such as I had never heard before.
I could see that they were very fast boys—much faster than I was—although the “Rolling Stone” had not been for several years rolling through the streets of Dublin, without learning some city sharpness.
I entered into conversation with two of the boys, in order to find out something of the business of news-vending; and could see from their manner that they regarded me, as they would have said, “not all thar.”
They pretended to give me such information as I required; but I afterwards learnt that they had not told me one word of truth.
When the papers were published, I went in with the others, put down a half dollar, and received in exchange the correct number of copies. I hurried out, walked some distance from the office, and commenced offering my wares for sale.
On turning down a wide street, I met three gentlemen, each of whom took a copy out of my hands and gave me a picayune in return.
I was doing business for myself—buying and selling; and in my soul arose a feeling of independence and pride that has never been so thoroughly awakened since.