THE ART OF HARD LYING MADE EASY, THOUGH I AM MADE VERY UNEASY BY HARD
LYING--I SEND MY RULER AS A MISSIVE, TO LET THE PARTIES CONCERNED KNOW
THAT I AM A REBEL TO TYRANNICAL RULE--I AM ARRAIGNED, TRIED, AND
CONDEMNED WITHOUT A HEARING--WHAT I LOSE IN SPEECH IS MADE UP IN
FEELING, THE WHOLE WOUND UP WITH MAGNANIMOUS RESOLVES, AND A LITTLE
SOBBING.
It was the captain of the American schooner, from out of which we were
then taking the casks of flour.
"We've no _sarvice_ in our country, I've a notion, my old bobtail
roarer," said he. "When do you come alongside of my schooner, for
tother lading with this raft of yours? Not to-night, I guess."
"Well, you've guessed right this time," replied old Tom; "we shall lie
on the mud till to-morrow morning, with your permission."
"Yes, for all the world like a Louisiana alligator. You take things
coolly, I've a notion, in the old country. I don't want to be hanging
head and starn in this little bit of a river of your'n. I must be back
to New York afore fever time."
"She be a pretty craft, that little thing of yours," observed old Tom;
"how long may she take to make the run?"
"How long? I expect in just no time; and she'd go as fast again, only
she won't wait for the breeze to come up with her."
"Why don't you heave-to for it?" said young Tom.
"Lose too much time, I guess. I have been chased by an easterly wind
all the way from your Land's End to our Narrows, and it never could
overhaul me."
"And I presume the porpoises give it up in despair, don't they?" replied
old Tom, with a leer; "and yet I've seen the creatures playing across
the bows of an English frigate at her speed, and laughing at her."
"They never play their tricks with me, old snapper; if they do, I cuts
them in halves, and a-starn they go, head part floating on one side, and
tail part on the other."
"But don't they join together again when they meet in your wake?"
inquired Tom.
"Shouldn't wonder," replied the American captain.
"Pray, captain, what may be that vessel they talk so much about at New
York?" Old Tom referred to the first steam vessel, whose qualities at
that time had been tried, and an exaggerated report of which had been
copied from the American papers. "That ship, or whatever she may be,
that sails without masts, yards, or canvas; it is quite above my
comprehension."
"Old country heads can't take it in. I'll tell you what--she goes slick
through the water, a-head or a-starn, broadside on, or up or down, or
any way; and all you have to do is to poke the fire and warm your
fingers; and the more you poke, the faster she goes 'gainst wind and
tide."
"Well, I must see that to believe it, though," replied old Tom.
"No fear of a capsize, I calculate. My little craft did upset with me
one night, in a pretty comfortable heavy _gal_; but she's _smart_, and
came up again on the other side in a moment, all right as before. Never
should have known anything about it, if the man at the wheel had not
found his jacket wet, and the men below had a round turn in all the
clews of their hammocks."
"After that round turn, you may belay," cried young Tom, laughing.
"Yes, but don't let's have a stopper over all, Tom," replied his father.
"I consider all this excessively _divarting_. Pray, captain, does
everything else go fast in the new country."
"Everything with us _clean slick_, I guess."
"What sort of horses have you in America?" inquired I.
"Our Kentucky horses, I've a notion, would surprise you. They're
almighty goers; at a trot, beat a _North West gal_ of wind. I once took
an Englishman with me in a gig up Allibama country, and he says, `What's
this great churchyard we are passing through?' `And stranger,' says I,
`I calculate it's nothing but the milestones we are passing so _slick_.'
But I once had a horse, who, I expect, was a deal quicker than that. I
once seed a flash of lightning chase him for half-an-hour round the
clearance, and I guess it couldn't catch him. But I can't wait no
longer. I expect you'll come alongside to-morrow afore meridian."
"Ay, ay, master," replied old Tom, tuning up--
"'Twas post meridian, half-past four,
By signal I from Nancy parted,
At five she lingered on the shore,
With uplift eyes and broken-hearted."
"I calculate you are no fool of a screamer," said the American, shoving
off his boat from the barge, and pulling to his vessel.
"And I calculate you're no fool of a liar," said young Tom.
"Well, so he is; but I do like a good lie, Jacob, there's some fun in
it. But what the devil does the fellow mean by calling a gale of
wind--_a gal_?"
"I don't know," replied Tom, "unless for the same reason that we call a
girl _a blowing_."
Our conversation was here interrupted by Mr Hodgson, the new head
clerk, of whom I have hitherto said nothing. He came into the
establishment in the place of Mr Tomkins, when we quitted the Battersea
wharf, and had taken an evident dislike to me, which appeared to
increase every day, as Mr Drummond gave me fresh marks of his
approbation. "You, Faithful, come out of that barge directly, and go to
your desk. I will have no eye-servers under me. Come out, sir,
directly."
"I say, Mr Quilldriver," cried old Tom, "do you mean for to say that
Jacob is an eye-sarver?"
"Yes, I do; and want none of your impertinence, or I'll unship you, you
old blackguard."
"Well, then, for the first part of your story, my sarvice to you and you
_lies_; and as for the second, that remains to be proved."
Mr Hodgson's temper was not softened by this reply of old Tom. My
blood was also up, for I had borne much already; and young Tom was
bursting with impatience to take my part. He walked carelessly by the
head clerk, saying to me as he passed by, "Why, I thought, Jacob, you
were 'prentice to the river; but it seems that you're bound to the
counting-house. How long do you mean to sarve?"
"I don't know," replied I, as I walked away sulkily; "but I wish I was
out of my time."
"Very well, sir, I shall report your behaviour to Mr Drummond. I'll
make him know your tricks."
"Tricks! you won't let him know his tricks. His duty is to take his
trick at the wheel," replied old Tom; "not to be brought up at your
cheating tricks at the desk."
"Cheating tricks, you old scoundrel, what do you mean by that?" replied
Mr Hodgson, in a rage.
"My father means _ledger_demain, I suppose," replied young Tom.
This repartee from a quarter so little expected sent off the head clerk
more wroth than ever.
"You seemed to hit him hard there, Tom," said his father; "but I can't
say that I understand how."
"You've had me taught to read and write, father," replied young Tom;
"and a'ter that, a lad may teach himself everything. I pick up every
day, here and there; and I never see a thing or a word that I don't
understand but I find out the meaning when I can. I picked up that hard
word at Bartlemy fair."
"And very hard you hit him with it."
"Who wouldn't to serve a friend? But mark my words, father, this won't
last long. There's a squall blowing up, and Jacob, quiet as he seems to
be, will show his teeth ere long."
Tom was correct in his surmise. I had not taken my seat at my desk more
than a minute, when Mr Hodgson entered, and commenced a tirade of
abuse, which my pride could no longer allow me to submit to. An
invoice, perfectly correct and well-written, which I had nearly
completed, he snatched from before me, tore into fragments, and ordered
me to write it over again. Indignant at this treatment, I refused, and
throwing down my pen, looked at him determinedly in the face. Irritated
at this defiance, he caught up a directory, and threw it at my head. No
longer able to command myself, I seized a ruler and returned the salute.
It was whizzing through the air as Mr Drummond entered the room; and
he was just in time to witness Mr Hodgson struck on the forehead and
felled to the ground, while I remained with my arm raised, standing upon
the cross-bar of my high stool, my face glowing with passion.
Appearances were certainly against me. Assistance was summoned, and the
head clerk removed to his chamber, during all which time I remained
seated on my stool before the desk, my breast heaving with tumultuous
feelings. How long I remained there I cannot say, it might have been
two hours; feelings long dormant had been aroused, and whirled round and
round in a continual cycle in my feverish brains. I should have
remained probably much longer in this state of absorption, had I not
been summoned to attend Mr Drummond. It appeared that in the meantime
Mr Hodgson had come to his own senses, and had given his own version of
the fracas, which had been, to an unjustifiable degree, corroborated by
the stupid young clerk, who was no friend of mine, and who sought favour
with his principal. I walked up to the drawing-room, where I found Mr
and Mrs Drummond, and little Sarah, whose eyes were red with crying. I
entered without any feeling of alarm, my breast was too full of
indignation. Mrs Drummond looked grave and mournful, Mr Drummond
severe.
"Jacob Faithful, I have sent for you to tell you that in consequence of
your disgraceful conduct to my senior clerk, you can no longer remain
under my roof. It appears that what I have been a witness to this day
has been but a sequel to behaviour equally improper and impertinent;
that so far from having, as I thought, done your duty, you have
constantly neglected it; and that the association you have formed with
that drunken old man and his insolent son has led you into this folly.
You may say that it was not your wish to remain on shore, and that you
preferred being on the river. At your age it is too often the case that
young people consult their wishes rather than their interests; and it is
well for them if they find those who are older, and wished them well, to
decide for them. I had hoped to have been able to place you in a more
respectable situation in society than was my original intention when you
were thrown upon me, a destitute orphan; but I now perceive my error.
You have proved yourself not only deceitful but ungrateful."
"I have not," interrupted I, calmly.
"You have. I have been a witness myself to your impropriety of conduct,
which, it appears, has long been concealed from me; but no more of that.
I bound you apprentice to the river, and you must now follow up your
apprenticeship; but expect nothing farther from me. You must now work
your own way up in the world, and I trust that you will reform and do
well. You may return to the lighter until I can procure you a situation
in another craft, for I consider it my duty to remove you from the
influence of those who have led you astray, and with the old man and his
son you will not remain. I have one thing more to say. You have been
in my counting-house for some months, and you are now about to be thrown
upon the world. There are ten pounds for your services," (and Mr
Drummond laid the money on the table). "You may also recollect that I
have some money belonging to you, which has been laid by until you shall
be out of your apprenticeship. I consider it my duty still to retain
that money for you; as soon as your apprenticeship is expired you may
demand it, and it shall be made over to you. I trust, sincerely trust,
Jacob, that the severe lesson you are now about to receive will bring
you to a sense of what is right, and that you will forget the evil
counsel you have received from your late companions. Do not attempt to
justify yourself; it is useless." Mr Drummond then rose and left the
room.
I should have replied, had it not been for this last sentence of Mr
Drummond's, which again roused the feeling of indignation, which, in
their presence, had been gradually giving way to softer emotions. I
therefore stood still, and firmly met the glance of Mr Drummond as he
passed me. My looks were construed into hardness of heart.
It appeared that Mr Drummond had left the room by previous arrangement,
that he might not be supposed to be moved from this purpose, and that
Mrs Drummond was then to have talked to me, and to have ascertained how
far there was a chance of my pleading guilty, and begging for a
mitigation of my sentence; but the firm composure of innocence was
mistaken for defiance; and the blood mounting to my forehead from a
feeling of injustice--of injustice from those I loved and venerated--
perhaps the most poignant feeling in existence to a sensitive and
generous mind--was falsely estimated as proceeding from impetuous and
disgraceful sources. Mrs Drummond looked upon me with a mournful face,
sighed, and said nothing; little Sarah watching me with her large black
eyes, as if she would read my inmost soul.
"Have you nothing to say, Jacob," at last observed Mrs Drummond, "that
I can tell Mr Drummond when his anger is not so great?"
"Nothing, madam," replied I, "except that I'll try to forgive him."
This reply was offensive even to the mild Mrs Drummond. She rose from
her chair. "Come, Sarah," said she: and she walked out of the room,
wishing me, in a kind, soft voice, a "good-bye, Jacob," as she passed
me.
My eyes swam with tears. I tried to return the salutation, but I was
too much choked by my feelings; I could not speak, and my silence was
again looked upon as contumacy and ingratitude. Little Sarah still
remained--she had not obeyed her mother's injunctions to follow her.
She was now nearly fourteen years old, and I had known her as a
companion and a friend for five years. During the last six months that
I had resided in the house we had become more intimately acquainted. I
joined her in the evening in all her pursuits, and Mr and Mrs Drummond
appeared to take a pleasure in our intimacy. I loved her as a dear
sister; my love was based on gratitude. I had never forgotten her
kindness to me when I first came under her father's roof, and a long
acquaintance with the sweetness of her disposition had rendered the
attachment so firm, that I felt I could have died for her. But I never
knew the full extent of the feeling until now that I was about to leave
her, perhaps for ever. My heart sank when Mr Drummond left the room--a
bitter pang passed through it as the form of Mrs Drummond vanished from
my sight; but now was to be the bitterest of all. I felt it, and I
remained with the handle of the door in my hand, gasping for breath--
blinded with the tears that coursed each other rapidly down my cheeks.
I remained a minute in this state, when I felt that Sarah touched my
other listless hand.
"Jacob!" she would have said, but before half my name was out she burst
into tears, and sobbed on my shoulder. My heart was too much surcharged
not to take the infection--my grief found vent, and I mingled my sobs
with those of the affectionate girl. When we were more composed, I
recounted to her all that had passed, and one, at least, in the world
acknowledged that I had been treated unjustly. I had but just finished,
when the servant interrupted us with a message to Sarah, that her mother
desired her presence. She threw herself into my arms, and bade me
farewell. I released her, she hastened to obey her mother, but
perceiving the money still upon the table, she pointed to it. "Your
money, Jacob!"
"No Sarah, I will not accept it. I would accept of anything from those
who treat me kindly, and feel more and more grateful to them; but that I
will not accept--I cannot, and you must not let it be left here. Say
that I could not take it."
Sarah would have remonstrated, but perceiving that I was firm, and at
the same time, perhaps, entering into my feelings, she again bade me
farewell, and hastened away.
The reader may easy imagine that I did not put off my departure. I
hastened to pack up my clothes, and in less than ten minutes after Sarah
had quitted me, I was on board the lighter, with old Tom and his son,
who were then going to supper. They knew a part of what had happened,
and I narrated the rest.
"Well," replied old Tom, after I had finished my story, "I didn't know
that I have done you any harm, Jacob, and I'm sorry that Mr Drummond
should suppose so. I'm fond of a drop, that's true; but I appeals to
you, whether I ever force it on you--and whether I don't check that boy
as much as I can; but then, d'ye see, although I preach, I don't
practise, that's the worst of it; and I know I've to answer for making
Tom so fond of grog; and though I never says anything about it, I often
think to myself, that if Tom should chance to be pressed some of these
days, and be punished for being in liquor, he'll think of his old
father, and curse him in his heart, when he eyes the cat flourishing
round before it strikes."
"I'll curse the cat, father, or the boatswain's mate, or the officer who
complained of me, or the captain who flogs me, or my own folly, but I'll
be hanged if ever I curse you, who have been so kind to me," replied
Tom, taking his father's hand.
"Well, we must hope for the best, my dear boy," replied old Tom; "but,
Jacob, you've not had fair play, that sartain. It's very true that
master did take you as an orphan, and help you to an education; but
that's no reason why he should take away your free will, and after
binding you 'prentice to the river, perch you up on a high stool, and
grind your nose down to the desk. If so be he was so kind to you only
to make you a slave, why, then, there was no kindness at all, in my
opinion: and as for punishment without hearing what a man has to say in
his own defence--there's ne'er a Tartar in the sarvice but would allow a
man to speak before he orders him to strip. I recollect a story about
that in the sarvice, but I'm in no humour to spin a yarn now. Now, you
see, Jacob, Master Drummond has done a great deal for you, and now he
has undone a great deal! I can't pretend to balance the account, but it
does appear to me that you don't owe him much; for what thanks is there
if you take a vessel in tow, and then cast her off, half-way, when she
most needs your assistance? But what hurts me most is his saying that
you sha'n't stay in the lighter with us; if you had, you shouldn't have
wanted, as long as pay and pension are forthcoming. Never mind--Tom, my
boy, bring out the bottle--hang care: it killed the cat."
The grog did not, however, bring back old Tom's spirits; the evening
passed heavily, and we retired to our beds at a seasonable hour, as we
were to drop down to the schooner early the next morning. That night I
did not close my eyes. I ran over, in my mind, all that had occurred,
and indignation took full possession of my soul. My whole life passed
in review before me. I travelled back to my former days--to the time
which had been almost obliterated from my memory, when I had navigated
the barge with my father. Again was the scene of his and my mother's
death presented to my view; again I saw him disappear, and the column of
black smoke ascend to the sky. The Dominie, the matron, Marables, and
Fleming, the scene in the cabin--all passed in rapid succession. I felt
that I had done my duty, and that I had been unjustly treated; my head
ached with tumultuous and long suppressed feelings. Reader, I stated
that when I was first taken in hand by Mr Drummond I was a savage,
although a docile one, to be reclaimed by kindness, and kindness only.
You may have been surprised at the rapid change which took place in a
few years; that change was produced by kindness. The conduct of Mr
Drummond, of his amiable wife and daughter, had been all kindness; the
Dominie and the worthy old matron had proved equally beneficent.
Marables had been kind; and, although now and then, as in the case of
the usher at the school, and Fleming on board the lighter, I had
received injuries, still, these were but trifling checks to the
uninterrupted series of kindness with which I had been treated by
everybody. Thus was my nature rapidly formed by a system of kindness
assisted by education; and had this been followed up, in a few years my
new character would have been firmly established. But the blow was now
struck, injustice roused up the latent feelings of my nature, and when I
rose the next morning I was changed. I do not mean to say that all that
precept and education had done for me was overthrown; but if not
overthrown, it was so shaken to the base, so rent from the summit to the
foundation, that, at the slightest impulse in a wrong direction, it
would have fallen in and left nothing but a mixed chaos of ruined
prospects. If anything could hold it together it was the kindness and
affection of Sarah, to which I would again and again return in my
revolving thoughts, as the only bright star to be discovered in my
clouded horizon.
How dangerous, how foolish, how presumptuous it is in adults to suppose
that they can read the thoughts and the feelings of those of a tender
age! How often has this presumption on their part been the ruin of a
young mind, which, if truly estimated and duly fostered, would have
blossomed and produced good fruit! The blush of honest indignation is
as dark as the blush of guilt, and the paleness of concentrated courage
as marked as that of fear, the firmness of conscious innocence is but
too often mistaken as the effrontery of hardened vice, and the tears
springing from a source of injury, the tongue tied from the oppression
of a wounded heart, the trembling and agitation of the little frame
convulsed with emotion have often and often been ascribed by prejudging
and self-opinionated witnesses to the very opposite passions to those
which have produced them. Youth should never be judged harshly, and
even when judged correctly, should it be in an evil course, may always
be reclaimed;--those who decide otherwise, and leave it to drift about
the world, have to answer for the _cast-away_.