Jacob Faithful | Page 6

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,
pushed off in a skiff to know what it was that I wanted. I told them that
I was alone in the lighter, without anchor or cable, and requested 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 reaction 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 my sobs,
were unintelligible. The clerk and the two men went down into the
cabin, returned hastily, and quitted the lighter. 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 firma. 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 husband; "I
cannot understand it even now."
"Nor can I; but still it is true, from what Johnson the clerk has
witnessed."
In the meantime my eyes were directed to every part of the room,
which appeared to my ignorance as a Golcondo 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 without
assistance.
"Have you any friends, my poor boy?" inquired the lady.
"No."
"What! no relations onshore?"
"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, whimpering.
"What a very odd child!" observed the lady. "Is he aware of the extent
of his misfortune?"
"Better luck next time, missus," repled 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 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 different 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