The Story of a Bad Boy | Page 6

owned, and finally concluded it must be the hind quarter-the
cabin, in which we had the cosiest of state-rooms, with one round
window in the roof, and two shelves or boxes nailed up against the wall
to sleep in.
There was a good deal of confusion on deck while we were getting
under way. The captain shouted orders (to which nobody seemed to pay
any attention) through a battered tin trumpet, and grew so red in the
face that he reminded me of a scooped-out pumpkin with a lighted
candle inside. He swore right and left at the sailors without the slightest
regard for their feelings. They didn't mind it a bit, however, but went on
singing-

"Heave ho!
With the rum below,
And hurrah for the Spanish Main O!"

I will not be positive about "the Spanish Main," but it was hurrah for
something O. I considered them very jolly fellows, and so indeed they
were. One weather-beaten tar in particular struck my fancy-a thick-set,
jovial man, about fifty years of age, with twinkling blue eyes and a
fringe of gray hair circling his head like a crown. As he took off his
tarpaulin I observed that the top of his head was quite smooth and flat,
as if somebody had sat down on him when he was very young.
There was something noticeably hearty in this man's bronzed face, a
heartiness that seemed to extend to his loosely knotted neckerchief. But
what completely won my good-will was a picture of enviable loveliness
painted on his left arm. It was the head of a woman with the body of a
fish. Her flowing hair was of livid green, and she held a pink comb in
one hand. I never saw anything so beautiful. I determined to know that

man. I think I would have given my brass pistol to have had such a
picture painted on my arm.
While I stood admiring this work of art, a fat wheezy steamtug, with
the word AJAX in staring black letters on the paddlebox, came puffing
up alongside the Typhoon. It was ridiculously small and conceited,
compared with our stately ship. I speculated as to what it was going to
do. In a few minutes we were lashed to the little monster, which gave a
snort and a shriek, and commenced backing us out from the levee
(wharf) with the greatest ease.
I once saw an ant running away with a piece of cheese eight or ten
times larger than itself. I could not help thinking of it, when I found the
chubby, smoky-nosed tug-boat towing the Typhoon out into the
Mississippi River.
In the middle of the stream we swung round, the current caught us, and
away we flew like a great winged bird. Only it didn't seem as if we
were moving. The shore, with the countless steamboats, the tangled
rigging of the ships, and the long lines of warehouses, appeared to be
gliding away from us.
It was grand sport to stand on the quarter-deck and watch all this.
Before long there was nothing to be seen on other side but stretches of
low swampy land, covered with stunted cypress trees, from which
drooped delicate streamers of Spanish moss-a fine place for alligators
and Congo snakes. Here and there we passed a yellow sand-bar, and
here and there a snag lifted its nose out of the water like a shark.
"This is your last chance to see the city, To see the city, Tom," said my
father, as we swept round a bend of the river.
I turned and looked. New Orleans was just a colorless mass of
something in the distance, and the dome of the St. Charles Hotel, upon
which the sun shimmered for a moment, was no bigger than the top of
old Aunt Chloe's thimble.
What do I remember next? The gray sky and the fretful blue waters of

the Gulf. The steam-tug had long since let slip her hawsers and gone
panting away with a derisive scream, as much as to say, "I've done my
duty, now look out for yourself, old Typhoon!"
The ship seemed quite proud of being left to take care of itself, and,
with its huge white sails bulged out, strutted off like a vain turkey. I
had been standing by my father near the wheel-house all this while,
observing things with that nicety of perception which belongs only to
children; but now the dew began falling, and we went below to have
supper.
The fresh fruit and milk, and the slices of cold chicken, looked very
nice; yet somehow I had no appetite There was a general smell of tar
about everything. Then the ship gave sudden lurches that made it a
matter of uncertainty whether one was going