"The lady with the curious name, who was down here last summer for
sea-bathing; don't you remember Miss Ruth Dotropy? It is a temperance
tract."
David Bright made a motion as though he were about to fling the parcel
away, but he thought better of it, and thrust it into the capacious
pocket of his rough coat. The brow cleared again as he left his wife,
who called after him, "Don't be hard on Billy, David; remember he's our
only one--and he's not bad, just a little thoughtless."
"Never fear, Nell, I'll make a man of him."
Lighting a large pipe as he spoke, the skipper of the _Evening Star_
nodded farewell, and sauntered away.
In another of the narrow lanes of Yarmouth another fisherman stood at
his own door, also taking leave of his wife. This man was the mate--
just engaged--of David Bright's vessel, and very different in some
respects from the skipper, being tall, handsome, fresh and young--not
more than twenty-four--as well as powerful of build. His wife, a
good-looking young woman, with their first-born in her arms, had bidden
him good-bye.
We will not trouble the reader with more of their parting conversation
than the last few words.
"Now, Maggie, dear, whatever you do, take care o' that blessed babby."
"Trust me for that, Joe," said Maggie, imprinting a kiss of considerable
violence and fervour on the said baby, which gazed at its mother--as it
gazed at everything--in blank amazement.
"An' don't forget to see Miss Ruth, if you can, or send a message to
her, about that matter."
"I'll not forget, Joe."
The mate of the _Evening Star_ bestowed a parting kiss of extreme
gentleness on the wondering infant, and hastened away.
He had not proceeded far when he encountered a creature which filled his
heart with laughter. Indeed Joe Davidson's heart was easily filled with
emotions of every kind, for he was an unusually sympathetic fellow, and
rather fond of a joke.
The creature referred to was a small boy of thirteen years of age or
thereabouts, with a pretty little face, a Grecian little nose, a
rose-bud of a mouth, curly fair hair, bright blue eyes, and a light
handsome frame, which, however, was a smart, active, and wiry frame. He
was made to look as large and solid as possible by means of the rough
costume of a fisherman, and there was a bold look in the blue eyes which
told of a strong will. What amused Joe Davidson most, however, was the
tremendous swagger in the creature's gait, and the imperturbable gravity
with which he smoked a cigar! The little fellow was so deeply absorbed
in thought as he passed the mate that he did not raise his eyes from the
ground. An irresistible impulse seized on Joe. He stooped, and gently
plucked the cigar from the boy's mouth.
Instantly the creature doubled his little fists, and, without taking the
trouble to look so high as his adversary's face, rushed at his legs,
which he began to kick and pommel furiously.
As the legs were cased in heavy sea-boots he failed to make any
impression on them, and, after a few moments of exhausting effort, he
stepped back so as to get a full look at his foe.
"What d'ee mean by that, Joe Davidson, you fathom of impudence?" he
demanded, with flushed face and flashing eyes.
"Only that I wants a light," answered the mate, pulling out his pipe,
and applying the cigar to it.
"Humph!" returned the boy, mollified, and at the same time tickled, by
the obvious pretence; "you might have axed leave first, I think."
"So I might. I ax parding _now_," returned Joe, handing back the cigar;
"good-day, Billy."
The little boy, gazed after the fisherman in speechless admiration, for
the cool quiet manner in which the thing had been done had, as he said,
taken the wind completely out of his sails, and prevented his usually
ready reply.
Replacing the cigar in the rose-bud, he went puffing along till he
reached the house of David Bright, which he entered.
"Your father's gone, Billy," said Mrs Bright. "Haste ye after him,
else you'll catch it. Oh! do give up smokin', dear boy. Good-bye. God
keep you, my darling."
She caught the little fellow in a hasty embrace.
"Hold on, mother, you'll bust me!" cried Billy, returning the embrace,
however, with affectionate vigour. "An' if I'm late, daddy will sail
without me. Let go!"
He shouted the last words as if the reference had been to the anchor of
the _Evening Star_. His mother laughed as she released him, and he ran
down to the quay with none of his late dignity remaining. He knew his
father's temper well, and was fearful of being left behind.
He was just in time. The little smack was almost under weigh as he
tumbled, rather than jumped, on board. Ere long she was out beyond the
breakers that marked the shoals, and running to the eastward under a
stiff breeze.
This was little Billy's first trip to sea in his father's fishing-smack,
and he went not as a passenger but as a "hand." It is probable that
there never sailed out of Yarmouth a lad who was prouder of his position
than little Billy of the _Evening Star_. He was rigged from top to toe
in a brand-new suit, of what we may style nautical garments. His thin
little body was made to appear of twice its natural bulk by a
broad-shouldered pilot-cloth coat, under which was a thick guernsey. He
was almost extinguished by a large yellow sou'-wester, and all but
swallowed up by a pair of sea-boots that reached to his hips. These
boots, indeed, seemed so capacious as to induce the belief that if he
did not take care the part of his body that still remained outside of
them might fall inside and disappear.
Altogether--what between pride of position, vanity in regard to the new
suit, glee at being fairly at sea and doing for himself, and a certain
humorous perception that he was ridiculously small--little Billy
presented a very remarkable appearance as he stood that day on the deck
of his father's vessel, with his little legs straddling wide apart,
after the fashion of nautical men, and his hands thrust deep into the
pockets of his sea-going coat.
For some time he was so engrossed with the novelty of his situation, and
the roll of the crested waves, that his eyes did not rise much higher
than the legs of his comparatively gigantic associates; but when
curiosity at last prompted him to scan their faces, great was his
surprise to observe among them Joe Davidson, the young man who had
plucked the cigar from his lips in Yarmouth.
"What! are _you_ one o' the hands, Joe?" he asked, going towards the man
with an abortive attempt to walk steadily on the pitching deck.
"Ay, lad, I'm your father's mate," replied Joe. "But surely _you_ are
not goin' as a hand?"
"That's just what I am," returned Billy, with a look of dignity which
was somewhat marred by a heavy lurch causing him to stagger. "I'm part
owner, d'ee see, an' ready to take command when the old man retires, so
you'd better mind your helm, young man, an' steer clear of impudence in
future, if you don't want to lead the life of a dog aboard of this here
smack."
"I'll try, sir," said Joe Davidson, touching his forelock, while a
humorous twinkle lit up his bright eyes.
"Hallo! Billy!" shouted the skipper, who was steering; "come here, boy.
You didn't come aboard to idle, you know; I've let you have a good look
at the sea all for nothin'. It's time now that you went to work to larn
your duties. Zulu!"
The last word caused a woolly head to protrude from the after hatchway,
revealing a youth about twice the size of Billy. Having some drops of
black blood in him this lad had been styled Zulu--and, being a handy
fellow, had been made cook.
"Here, take this boy below," said the skipper, "and teach him
something--anything you like, so long as you keep him at work. No
idlers allowed on board, you know."
"Yes, sar," said Zulu.
Billy was delighted to obey. He was naturally a smart, active fellow,
and not only willing, but proud, to submit to discipline. He descended
a short ladder into the little cabin with which he had become
acquainted, as a visitor, when the smack was in port on former
occasions. With Zulu he was also acquainted, that youth having been for
some time in his father's service.
"Kin you do cookin'?" asked Zulu with a grin that revealed an unusually
large cavern full of glistening teeth, mingled with more than an average
allowance of tongue and gums.
"Oh! I say," remonstrated Billy, "it's growed bigger than ever!"
Zulu expanded his mouth to its utmost, and shut his eyes in enjoyment of
the complimentary joke.
"Oh course it hab," he said on recovering; "I's 'bliged to eat so much
at sea dat de mout gits wider ebery trip. Dat leetle hole what you've
got in your face 'll git so big as mine fore long, Billy. Den you be
like some ob de leetle fishes we catch--all mout and no body worth
mentioning. But you no tell me yit: Kin you do cookin'?"
"Oh yes, I can manage a Yarmouth bloater," replied Billy.
"But," said Zulu, "kin you cook a 'tater widout makin' him's outside all
of a mush, an' him's inside same so as a stone?"
Instead of answering, Billy sat down on the settle which ran round the
cabin and looked up at his dark friend very solemnly.
"Hallo!" exclaimed Zulu.
"There--there's something wrong wi' me," said Billy, with a faint
attempt to smile as he became rather pale.
Seeing this, his friend quietly put a bucket beside him.
"I say, Zulu," observed the poor boy with a desperate attempt at
pleasantry, "I wonder what's up."
"Des nuffin' up yit but he won't be long," replied the young cook with a
look full of sympathy.
It would be unjust to our little hero to proceed further. This being,
as we have said, his first trip to sea, he naturally found himself,
after an hour or two, stretched out in one of the bunks which surrounded
the little cabin. There he was permitted to lie and think longingly of
his mother, surrounded by dense tobacco smoke, hot vapours, and greasy
fumes, until he blushed to find himself wishing, with all his heart,
that he had never left home!
There we will leave him to meditate and form useless resolves, which he
never carried out, while we introduce to the reader some of the other
actors in our tale.