The Lifeboat | Page 6

about which we write
there were none. If Jack wanted his lunch or his dinner he found the
low tavern almost the only place in which he could get it comfortably.
Tobacco smoke was no objection to him;--he rather liked it. Swearing
did not shock him;--he was used to it. Gentle folk are apt to err here too.
Being shocked at gross sin does not necessarily imply goodness of
heart; it implies nothing more than the being unused to witness gross
sin. Goodness of heart may go along with this capacity of being
shocked, so, equally, may badness of heart; but neither of them is
implied by it.
What a grand thing is truth--simple abstract truth! and yet how little do
we appreciate it in regard to the inconceivably important matter of
reasoning. We analyse our chemicals and subject them to the severest
tests in order to ascertain their true properties;--truth is all we aim at;
but how many of us can say that we analyse our thoughts and subject
our reasoning to the test of logic in order simply to ascertain the truth.
"Smoke for ever! I say, Bill, open that there port a bit, else we'll be
choked," cried a stentorian voice, as Guy entered the little apartment,

where some dozen of noisy sailors were creating the cloud, which was
a little too strong for them.
For some moments Guy glanced round inquiringly, unable to pierce the
dim curtain that enshrouded everything, as with a veil of dirty gauze.
"Lost your reckoning, I guess," drawled a Yankee skipper.
"Never mind, let go your anchor, my lad," cried a voice from the
densest quarter of the smoke, "it's not a bad berth, and good holdin'
ground."
"What'll you take to drink, my boy, supposin' you gits the offer?"
inquired another man, giving him a facetious poke in the ribs.
"Is John Bax here?" inquired Guy.
"Hallo, messmate--here you are, port your helm and heave
a-head--steady! rocks to leeward; starboard hard! ah, I knew you'd
never clear these rocks without touchin'," said Bax, as his young friend
tripped over three or four spittoons, and plunged into the corner from
which the sailor's deep bass voice issued. "There now, sit down; what'll
you have?"
"Nothing, Bax; what a horrible hole to feed in! Couldn't you come out
and talk with me in the fresh air?"
It must indeed have been a wonderfully impure place when Guy could
venture by contrast to speak of the air outside as being fresh.
"Couldn't do it, my lad," replied Bax, with his mouth full. "I haven't
had a bit since six o'clock this morning, and I'm only half through."
The fact was evident, for a large plate of biscuit and cheese stood on
the small table before the seaman, with a tumbler of hot gin and water.
So Guy sat down, and, observing that the waiter stood at his elbow,
ordered half a pint of stout. Guy did not drink spirits, but he had no
objection to beer, so he took occasion to remonstrate with Bax on his

tendency to drink gin, and recommended beer instead, as it would "do
him more good." It did not occur to Guy that a young man in robust
health does not require physical good to be done to him at all, beyond
what food, and rest, and exercise can achieve, and that, therefore,
artificial stimulant of any kind is unnecessary!
"Skipper ahoy!" shouted, a gruff voice in the doorway.
"Ay, ay!" cried several of the party in reply.
"Is John Bax in this here port?"
"Here you are," replied the man in request, "port your helm, old boy!
rocks on the lee bow, look out!"
"Steady, so," said a fat burly seaman, as he steered in obedience to
these sailing directions, and finally "cast anchor" beside our two
friends.
"How are ye, Captain Bluenose?" said Bax, holding out his hand.
"Same to you, lad," replied the Captain, seizing the offered hand in his
own enormous fist, which was knotty and fleshy, seamed with old cuts
and scars, and stained with tar. "Hallo! Guy, is this you?" he added,
turning suddenly to the youth. "Why, who'd 'a thought to see you here?
I do b'lieve I han't seen ye since the last time down at the coast. But, I
say, Guy, my boy, you han't took to drinkin', have ye?"
"No, Captain," said Guy, with a smile, "nothing stronger than beer, and
not much of that. I merely came here to meet Bax."
Captain Bluenose--whose name, by the way, had no reference to his
nose, for that was small and red--scratched his chin and stared into
vacancy, as if he were meditating.
"Why, boy," he said at length, "seems to me as if you'd as good cause
to suspec' me of