Jack in the Forecastle | Page 2

to overcome.
I had already found in a taste for reading a valuable and never- failing source of information and amusement. This attachment to books has attended me through life, and been a comfort and solace in difficulties, perplexities, and perils. My parents, also, early ingrafted on my mind strict moral principles; taught me to distinguish between right and wrong; to cherish a love of truth, and even a chivalric sense of honor and honesty. To this, perhaps, more than to any other circumstance, may be attributed whatever success and respectability has attended my career through life. It has enabled me to resist temptations to evil with which I was often surrounded, and to grapple with and triumph over obstacles that might otherwise have overwhelmed me.
When I reached Portsmouth, my kinsman, Captain Tilton, gave me an ungracious reception. He rebuked me severely for expressing a determination to go to sea.
"Go to sea!" he exclaimed in a tone of the most sovereign contempt. "Ridiculous! You are a noodle for thinking of such a thing. A sailor's life is a dog's life at best! Besides, you are not fit for a sailor, either by habits, taste, or constitution. With such a pale face, and slight figure, and sheepish look, how can you expect to fight the battle of life on the ocean, and endure all the crosses, the perils, and the rough- and-tumble of a sailor's life? Hawser, you are not fit for a sailor. You had much better go home and try something else."
Finding me unconvinced by his arguments, and unshaken in my determination, he concluded his remarks by asking me abruptly the startling question, "Are you ready to die?"
I replied, that I had not bestowed much thought on the subject; but frankly admitted I was not altogether prepared for such a solemn event.
"Then, Hawser," said he with marked emphasis, "if you are not prepared to die to die of YELLOW FEVER don't go to Demarara at this season of the year!" And he left the room abruptly, apparently disgusted at my obstinacy.
On the following day, Captain Tilton took me on board the brig Dolphin. I did not mark her imperfections, which were many. She was a vessel, bound on a voyage to a foreign port, and, therefore, I was charmed with her appearance. In my eyes she was a model of excellence; as beautiful and graceful as the celebrated barge in which Cleopatra descended the Cyndnus to meet Mark Antony.
The captain led me to the mate, who was busily engaged about the decks. "Mr. Thompson," said he, "here is a lad who wants to go to sea, and I have foolishly engaged to take him as a cabin boy. Keep him on board the brig; look sharp after him; don't let him have an idle moment; and, if possible, make him useful in some way until the vessel is ready for sea."
Mr. William Thompson was a worthy man, who subsequently became a shipmaster and merchant of great respectability in Portsmouth. He treated me with consideration and kindness, and took pleasure in teaching me the details of the business I was about to undertake.
During the few days in which the Dolphin lay at the wharf I gained much nautical information. I learned the names of the different parts of a vessel; of the different masts, and some portions of the rigging. But the great number of ropes excited my admiration. I thought a lifetime would hardly suffice to learn their different names and purposes. I accomplished successfully the feat of going aloft; and one memorable day, assisted the riggers in "bending sails," and received an ill- natured rebuke from a crusty old tar, for my stupidity in failing to understand him when he told me to "pass the gasket: while furling the fore-topsail. Instead of passing the gasket around the yard, I gravely handed him a marlinspike!
In the course of my desultory reading, I had learned that vessels at sea were liable to "spring a leak," which was one of the most dreaded perils of navigation; and I had a vague notion that the hold of a ship was always so arranged that a leak could be discovered and stopped. I was, therefore, not a little puzzled when I found the hold of the Dolphin was crammed with lumber; not a space having been left large enough to stow away the ghost of a belaying pin. Finding the captain in a pleasant mood one day, I ventured to ask him what would be the consequence if the brig should spring a leak in her bottom.
"Spring a leak in her bottom!" he replied, in his gruff manner; "why, we should go to the bottom, of course"
The brig was now ready for sea. The sailors were shipped, and I watched them closely as they