the water, so he's done well. He and Skipper Scudder have been out
deep-sea fishing since yesterday."
Our friend pushed the porgies back into a corner, stuck his knife into a
beam, and we hurried down to the shore. Kate and I sat on the pebbles,
and he went out to the moorings in a dirty dory to help unload the fish.
We afterward saw a great deal of Danny, as all the men called him. But
though Kate and I tried our best and used our utmost skill and tact to
make him tell us more about himself, he never did. But perhaps there was
nothing more to be told.
The day we left Deephaven we went down to the shore to say good by to
him and to some other friends, and he said, "Goin', are ye? Well, I'm
sorry; ye've treated me first-rate; the Lord bless ye!" and then was so
much mortified at the way he had said farewell that he turned and fled
round the corner of the fish-house.
_Captain Sands_
Old Captain Sands was one of the most prominent citizens of Deephaven,
and a very good friend of Kate's and mine. We often met him, and grew
much interested in him before we knew him well. He had a reputation in
town for being peculiar and somewhat visionary; but every one seemed to
like him, and at last one morning, when we happened to be on our way to
the wharves, we stopped at the door of an old warehouse which we had
never seen opened before. Captain Sands sat just inside, smoking his
pipe, and we said good morning, and asked him if he did not think there
was a fog coming in by and by. We had thought a little of going out to
the lighthouse. The cap'n rose slowly, and came out so that he could see
farther round to the east. "There's some scud coming in a'ready," said
he. "None to speak of yet, I don't know's you can see it,--yes, you're
right; there's a heavy bank of fog lyin' off, but it won't be in under
two or three hours yet, unless the wind backs round more and freshens
up. Weren't thinking of going out, were ye?"
"A little," said Kate, "but we had nearly given it up. We are getting to
be very weather-wise, and we pride ourselves on being quick at seeing
fogs." At which the cap'n smiled and said we were consider'ble young to
know much about weather, but it looked well that we took some interest
in it; most young people were fools about weather, and would just as
soon set off to go anywhere right under the edge of a thunder-shower.
"Come in and set down, won't ye?" he added; "it ain't much of a place;
I've got a lot of old stuff stowed away here that the women-folks don't
want up to the house. I'm a great hand for keeping things." And he
looked round fondly at the contents of the wide low room. "I come down
here once in a while and let in the sun, and sometimes I want to hunt up
something or 'nother; kind of stow-away place, ye see." And then he
laughed apologetically, rubbing his hands together, and looking out to
sea again as if he wished to appear unconcerned; yet we saw that he
wondered if we thought it ridiculous for a man of his age to have
treasured up so much trumpery in that cobwebby place. There were some
whole oars and the sail of his boat and two or three killicks and
painters, not to forget a heap of worn-out oars and sails in one corner
and a sailor's hammock slung across the beam overhead, and there were
some sailor's chests and the capstan of a ship and innumerable boxes
which all seemed to be stuffed full, besides no end of things lying on
the floor and packed away on shelves and hanging to rusty big-headed
nails in the wall. I saw some great lumps of coral, and large, rough
shells, a great hornet's nest, and a monstrous lobster-shell. The cap'n
had cobbled and tied up some remarkable old chairs for the accommodation
of himself and his friends.
"What a nice place!" said Kate in a frank, delighted way which could not
have failed to be gratifying.
"Well, no," said the cap'n, with his slow smile, "it ain't what you'd
rightly call 'nice,' as I know of: it ain't never been cleared out all
at once since I began putting in. There's nothing that's worth anything,
either, to anybody but me. Wife, she's said to me a hundred times, 'Why
don't you overhaul them old things and burn 'em?' She's al'ays at me
about letting the property, as if it were a corner-lot in Broadway.
That's all women-folks know about business!" And here the captain caught
himself tripping, and looked uneasy for a minute. "I suppose I might
have let it for a fish-house, but it's most too far from the shore to be
handy--and--well--there are some things here that I set a good deal by."
"Isn't that a sword-fish's sword in that piece of wood?" Kate asked
presently; and was answered that it was found broken off as we saw it,
in the hull of a wreck that went ashore on Blue P'int when the captain
was a young man, and he had sawed it out and kept it ever
since,--fifty-nine years. Of course we went closer to look at it, and we
both felt a great sympathy for this friend of ours, because we have the
same fashion of keeping worthless treasures, and we understood perfectly
how dear such things may be.
"Do you mind if we look round a little?" I asked doubtfully, for I knew
how I should hate having strangers look over my own treasury. But
Captain Sands looked pleased at our interest, and said cheerfully that
we might overhaul as much as we chose. Kate discovered first an old
battered wooden figure-head of a ship,--a woman's head with long curly
hair falling over the shoulders. The paint was almost gone, and the dust
covered most of what was left: still there was a wonderful spirit and
grace, and a wild, weird beauty which attracted us exceedingly; but the
captain could only tell us that it had belonged to the wreck of a Danish
brig which had been driven on the reef where the lighthouse stands now,
and his father had found this on the long sands a day or two afterward.
"That was a dreadful storm," said the captain. "I've heard the old folks
tell about it; it was when I was only a year or two old. There were
three merchantmen wrecked within five miles of Deephaven. This one was
all stove to splinters, and they used to say she had treasure aboard.
When I was small I used to have a great idea of going out there to the
rocks at low water and trying to find some gold, but I never made out no
great." And he smiled indulgently at the thought of his youthful dream.
"Kate," said I, "do you see what beauties these Turk's-head knots are?"
We had been taking a course of first lessons in knots from Danny, and
had followed by learning some charmingly intricate ones from Captain
Lant, the stranded mariner who lived on a farm two miles or so inland.
Kate came over to look at the Turk's-heads, which were at either end of
the rope handles of a little dark-blue chest.
Captain Sands turned in his chair and nodded approval. "That's a neat
piece of work, and it was a first-rate seaman who did it; he's dead and
gone years ago, poor young fellow; an I-talian he was, who sailed on the
Ranger three or four long voyages. He fell from the mast-head on the
voyage home from Callao. Cap'n Manning and old Mr. Lorimer, they owned
the Ranger, and when she come into port and they got the news they took
it as much to heart as if he'd been some relation. He was smart as a
whip, and had a way with him, and the pleasantest kind of a voice; you
couldn't help liking him. They found out that he had a mother alive in
Port Mahon, and they sent his pay and some money he had in the bank at
Riverport out to her by a ship that was going to the Mediterranean. He
had some clothes in his chest, and they sold those and sent her the
money,--all but some trinkets they supposed he was keeping for her; I
rec'lect he used to speak consider'ble about his mother. I shipped one
v'y'ge with him before the mast, before I went out mate of the Daylight.
I happened to be in port the time the Ranger got in, an' I see this
chist lying round in Cap'n Manning's storehouse, and I offered to give
him what it was worth; but we was good friends, and he told me take it
if I wanted it, it was no use to him, and I've kept it ever since.
"There are some of his traps in it now, I believe; ye can look." And we
took off some tangled cod-lines and opened the chest. There was only a
round wooden box in the till, and in some idle hour at sea the young
sailor had carved his initials and an anchor and the date on the cover.
We found some sail-needles and a palm in this "kit," as the sailors call
it, and a little string of buttons with some needles and yarn and thread
in a neat little bag, which perhaps his mother had made for him when he
started off on his first voyage. Besides these things there was only a
fanciful little broken buckle, green and gilt, which he might have
picked up in some foreign street, and his protection-paper carefully
folded, wherein he was certified as being a citizen of the United
States, with dark complexion and dark hair.
"He was one of the pleasantest fellows that ever I shipped with," said
the captain, with a gruff tenderness in his voice. "Always willin' to do
his work himself, and like's not when the other fellows up the rigging
were cold, or ugly about something or 'nother, he'd say something that
would set them all laughing, and somehow it made you good-natured to see
him round. He was brought up a Catholic, I s'pose; anyway, he had some
beads, and sometimes they would joke him about 'em on board ship, but he
would blaze up in a minute, ugly as a tiger. I never saw him mad about
anything else, though he wouldn't stand it if anybody tried to crowd
him. He fell from the main-to'-gallant yard to the deck, and was dead
when they picked him up. They were off the Bermudas. I suppose he lost
his balance, but I never could see how; he was sure-footed, and as quick
as a cat. They said they saw him try to catch at the stay, but there was
a heavy sea running, and the ship rolled just so's to let him through
between the rigging, and he struck the deck like a stone. I don't
know's that chest has been opened these ten years,--I declare it carries
me back to look at those poor little traps of his. Well, it's the way of
the world; we think we're somebody, and we have our day, but it isn't
long afore we're forgotten."
The captain reached over for the paper, and taking out a clumsy pair of
steel-bowed spectacles, read it through carefully. "I'll warrant he took
good care of this," said he. "He was an I-talian, and no more of an
American citizen than a Chinese; I wonder he hadn't called himself John
Jones, that's the name most of the foreigners used to take when they got
their papers. I remember once I was sick with a fever in Chelsea
Hospital, and one morning they came bringing in the mate of a Portugee
brig on a stretcher, and the surgeon asked what his name was. 'John
Jones,' says he. 'O, say something else,' says the surgeon; 'we've got
five John Joneses here a'ready, and it's getting to be no name at all.'
Sailors are great hands for false names; they have a trick of using them
when they have any money to leave ashore, for fear their shipmates will
go and draw it out. I suppose there are thousands of dollars unclaimed
in New York banks, where men have left it charged to their false names;
then they get lost at sea or something, and never go to get it, and
nobody knows whose it is. They're curious folks, take 'em altogether,
sailors is; specially these foreign fellows that wander about from ship
to ship. They're getting to be a dreadful low set, too, of late years.
It's the last thing I'd want a boy of mine to do,--ship before the mast
with one of these mixed crews. It's a dog's life, anyway, and the risks
and the chances against you are awful. It's a good while before you can
lay up anything, unless you are part owner. I saw all the p'ints a good
deal plainer after I quit followin' the sea myself, though I've always
been more or less into navigation until this last war come on. I know
when I was ship's husband of the Polly and Susan there was a young man
went out cap'n of her,--her last voyage, and she never was heard from.
He had a wife and two or three little children, and for all he was so
smart, they would have been about the same as beggars, if I hadn't
happened to have his life insured the day I was having the papers made
out for the ship. I happened to think of it. Five thousand dollars there
was, and I sent it to the widow along with his primage. She hadn't
expected nothing, or next to nothing, and she was pleased, I tell ye."
"I think it was very kind in you to think of that, Captain Sands," said
Kate. And the old man said, flushing a little, "Well, I'm not so smart
as some of the men who started when I did, and some of 'em went ahead of
me, but some of 'em didn't, after all. I've tried to be honest, and to
do just about as nigh right as I could, and you know there's an old
sayin' that a cripple in the right road will beat a racer in the wrong."
_The Circus at Denby_
Kate and I looked forward to a certain Saturday with as much eagerness
as if we had been little school-boys, for on that day we were to go to a
circus at Denby, a town perhaps eight miles inland. There had not been a
circus so near Deephaven for a long time, and nobody had dared to
believe the first rumor of it, until two dashing young men had deigned
to come themselves to put up the big posters on the end of 'Bijah
Mauley's barn. All the boys in town came as soon as possible to see
these amazing pictures, and some were wretched in their secret hearts at
the thought that they might not see the show itself. Tommy Dockum was
more interested than any one else, and mentioned the subject so
frequently one day when he went blackberrying with us, that we grew
enthusiastic, and told each other what fun it would be to go, for
everybody would be there, and it would be the greatest loss to us if we
were absent. I thought I had lost my childish fondness for circuses, but
it came back redoubled; and Kate may contradict me if she chooses, but I
am sure she never looked forward to the Easter Oratorio with half the
pleasure she did to this "caravan," as most of the people called it.
We felt that it was a great pity that any of the boys and girls should
be left lamenting at home, and finding that there were some of our
acquaintances and Tommy's who saw no chance of going, we engaged Jo
Sands and Leander Dockum to carry them to Denby in two fish-wagons, with
boards laid across for the extra seats. We saw them join the straggling
train of carriages which had begun to go through the village from all
along shore, soon after daylight, and they started on their journey
shouting and carousing, with their pockets crammed with early apples and
other provisions. We thought it would have been fun enough to see the
people go by, for we had had no idea until then how many inhabitants
that country held.
We had asked Mrs. Kew to go with us; but she was half an hour later than
she had promised, for, since there was no wind, she could not come
ashore in the sail-boat, and Mr. Kew had had to row her in in the dory.
We saw the boat at last nearly in shore, and drove down to meet it: even
the horse seemed to realize what a great day it was, and showed a
disposition to friskiness, evidently as surprising to himself as to us.
Mrs. Kew was funnier that day than we had ever known her, which is
saying a great deal, and we should not have had half so good a time if
she had not been with us; although she lived in the lighthouse, and had
no chance to "see passing," which a woman prizes so highly in the
country, she had a wonderful memory for faces, and could tell us the
names of all Deephaveners and of most of the people we met outside its
limits. She looked impressed and solemn as she hurried up from the
water's edge, giving Mr. Kew some parting charges over her shoulder as
he pushed off the boat to go back; but after we had convinced her that
the delay had not troubled us, she seemed more cheerful. It was evident
that she felt the importance of the occasion, and that she was pleased
at our having chosen her for company. She threw back her veil entirely,
sat very straight, and took immense pains to bow to every acquaintance
whom she met. She wore her best Sunday clothes, and her manner was
formal for the first few minutes; it was evident that she felt we were
meeting under unusual circumstances, and that, although we had often met
before on the friendliest terms, our having asked her to make this
excursion in public required a different sort of behavior at her hands,
and a due amount of ceremony and propriety. But this state of things did
not last long, as she soon made a remark at which Kate and I laughed so
heartily in lighthouse-acquaintance fashion, that she unbent, and gave
her whole mind to enjoying herself.
When we came by the store where the post-office was kept we saw a small
knot of people gathered round the door, and stopped to see what had
happened. There was a forlorn horse standing near, with his harness tied
up with fuzzy ends of rope, and the wagon was cobbled together with
pieces of board; the whole craft looked as if it might be wrecked with
the least jar. In the wagon were four or five stupid-looking boys and
girls, one of whom was crying softly. Their father was sick, some one
told us. "He was took faint, but he is coming to all right; they have
give him something to take: their name is Craper, and they live way over
beyond the Ridge, on Stone Hill. They were goin' over to Denby to the
circus, and the man was calc'lating to get doctored, but I d' know's he
can get so fur; he's powerful slim-looking to me." Kate and I went to
see if we could be of any use, and when we went into the store we saw
the man leaning back in his chair, looking ghastly pale, and as if he
were far gone in consumption. Kate spoke to him, and he said he was
better; he had felt bad all the way along, but he hadn't given up. He
was pitiful, poor fellow, with his evident attempt at dressing up. He
had the bushiest, dustiest red hair and whiskers, which made the pallor
of his face still more striking, and his illness had thinned and paled
his rough, clumsy hands. I thought what a hard piece of work it must
have been for him to start for the circus that morning, and how
kind-hearted he must be to have made such an effort for his children's
pleasure. As we went out they stared at us gloomily. The shadow of their
disappointment touched and chilled our pleasure.
Somebody had turned the horse so that he was heading toward home, and by
his actions he showed that he was the only one of the party who was
glad. We were so sorry for the children; perhaps it had promised to be
the happiest day of their lives, and now they must go back to their
uninteresting home without having seen the great show.
"I am so sorry you are disappointed," said Kate, as we were wondering
how the man who had followed us could ever climb into the wagon.
"Heh?" said he, blankly, as if he did not know what her words meant.
"What fool has been a turning o' this horse?" he asked a man who was
looking on.
"Why, which way be ye goin'?"
"To the circus," said Mr. Craper, with decision, "where d'ye s'pose?
That's where I started for, anyways." And he climbed in and glanced
round to count the children, struck the horse with the willow switch,
and they started off briskly, while everybody laughed. Kate and I joined
Mrs. Kew, who had enjoyed the scene.
"Well, there!" said she, "I wonder the folks in the old North
burying-ground ain't a-rising up to go to Denby to that caravan!"
We reached Denby at noon; it was an uninteresting town which had grown
up around some mills. There was a great commotion in the streets, and it
was evident that we had lost much in not having seen the procession.
There was a great deal of business going on in the shops, and there were
two or three hand-organs at large, near one of which we stopped awhile
to listen, just after we had met Leander and given the horse into his
charge. Mrs. Kew finished her shopping as soon as possible, and we
hurried toward the great tents, where all the flags were flying. I think
I have not told you that we were to have the benefit of seeing a
menagerie in addition to the circus, and you may be sure we went
faithfully round to see everything that the cages held.
I cannot truthfully say that it was a good show; it was somewhat dreary,
now that I think of it quietly and without excitement. The creatures
looked tired, and as if they had been on the road for a great many
years. The animals were all old, and there was a shabby great elephant
whose look of general discouragement went to my heart, for it seemed as
if he were miserably conscious of a misspent life. He stood dejected and
motionless at one side of the tent, and it was hard to believe that
there was a spark of vitality left in him. A great number of the people
had never seen an elephant before, and we heard a thin little old man,
who stood near us, say delightedly, "There's the old creatur', and no
mistake, Ann 'Liza. I wanted to see him most of anything. My sakes
alive, ain't he big!"
And Ann 'Liza, who was stout and sleepy-looking, droned out, "Ye-es,
there's consider'ble of him; but he looks as if he ain't got no
animation."
Kate and I turned away and laughed, while Mrs. Kew said confidentially,
as the couple moved away, "_She_ needn't be a reflectin' on the poor
beast. That's Mis Seth Tanner, and there isn't a woman in Deephaven nor
East Parish to be named the same day with her for laziness. I'm glad she
didn't catch sight of me; she'd have talked about nothing for a
fortnight."
There was a picture of a huge snake in Deephaven, and I was just
wondering where he could be, or if there ever had been one, when we
heard a boy ask the same question of the man whose thankless task it was
to stir up the lions with a stick to make them roar. "The snake's dead,"
he answered good-naturedly. "Didn't you have to dig an awful long grave
for him?" asked the boy; but the man said he reckoned they curled him up
some, and smiled as he turned to his lions, who looked as if they needed
a tonic. Everybody lingered longest before the monkeys, who seemed to be
the only lively creatures in the whole collection; and finally we made
our way into the other tent, and perched ourselves on a high seat, from
whence we had a capital view of the audience and the ring, and could see
the people come in. Mrs. Kew was on the lookout for acquaintances, and
her spirits as well as our own seemed to rise higher and higher. She was
on the alert, moving her head this way and that to catch sight of
people, giving us a running commentary in the mean time. It was very
pleasant to see a person so happy as Mrs. Kew was that day, and I dare
say in speaking of the occasion she would say the same thing of Kate and
me,--for it was such a good time! We bought some peanuts, without which
no circus seems complete, and we listened to the conversations which
were being carried on around us while we were waiting for the
performance to begin. There were two old farmers whom we had noticed
occasionally in Deephaven; one was telling the other, with great
confusion of pronouns, about a big pig which had lately been killed.
"John did feel dreadful disappointed at having to kill now," we heard
him say, "bein' as he had calc'lated to kill along near Thanksgivin'
time; there was goin' to be a new moon then, and he expected to get
seventy-five or a hundred pound more on to him. But he didn't seem to
gain, and me and 'Bijah both told him he'd be better to kill now, while
everything was favor'ble, and if he set out to wait something might
happen to him, and then I've always held that you can't get no hog only
just so fur, and for my part I don't like these great overgrown
creatur's. I like well enough to see a hog that'll weigh six hunderd,
just for the beauty on't, but for my eatin' give me one that'll just
rise three. 'Bijah's accurate, and he says he is goin' to weigh risin'
five hundred and fifty. I shall stop, as I go home, to John's wife's
brother's and see if they've got the particulars yet; John was goin' to
get the scales this morning. I guess likely consider'ble many'll gather
there to-morrow after meeting. John didn't calc'late to cut up till
Monday."
"I guess likely I 'll stop in to-morrow," said the other man; "I like to
see a han'some hog. Chester White, you said? Consider them best, don't
ye?" But this question never was answered, for the greater part of the
circus company in gorgeous trappings came parading in.