THE SAILOR AND HIS TWO COMPANIONS.
In one of those common hotels, frequented by the better class of seamen
who enter New York, David Rice had taken up his quarters, accompanied by
little Paul and Jube. With the bravery of a Nelson, he had carried the
disabled brig safely into a Southern port, with her cargo all safe; an
act of heroism that had secured the warmest approbation of her owners,
and what was far better, an appointment to the command of the craft he
had saved.
While the repairs were going on, David, exultant and happy, had
proceeded with his two friends to the commercial emporium, where he
became sadly puzzled what course to take next, for two more simple
hearted and helpless creatures never existed.
"Now," said David, going into a select committee of one on the subject;
"now when a chap saves the life of another chap, big or little, and
turns his face about from a long voyage, where all is provided for, he's
in duty bound to adopt that other chap, and take good care of him so
long as he can't take care of himself. Now that's just your case, David
Rice. What on arth can these poor critters do without you?
Nothing--that's sartin. What can you do for them?--there's the puzzler.
As for work, the nigger is strong as a lion; but he's used to hot
weather, and a cold snap curls him right up. As for the boy--poor little
soul--no Yankee baby was ever half so helpless; and yet, how brave the
little chap is! What am I to do with 'em? They can't live here when I'm
away to sea; and as for working, why the nigger himself hasn't the least
idee what work means!"
This consultation was held in English, while its objects sat close
together, looking at the sailor as he laid down the case and
expostulated with himself, pro and con, with considerable energy.
"Jube," he said, in broken French, feeling in sad want of counsel,
"Jube, what do you say to living in the country?"
"Oh, anywhere Jube is ready to live--anywhere that little masser and you
like!" cried the negro, eagerly.
"Well, say in a nice, cosy place up in Connecticut, with plenty of
chores to do, and no hard work."
"Yes, masser Rice," said Jube, attempting English.
"Then, our little Paul, he ought to go to school--capital district
school on Shrub Oak--beautiful red school-house, with the turnpike
running in front, and a river back of it. You can hear the water sing
all day long, behind the hemlock bushes. Besides, there's an apple tree
at one end that bears splendid green apples, and a bell pear tree, that
the scholars are forbid to look at. Then--keep that to yourself Paul, no
one but Kate ever found it out--but, there's a hollow at one end of the
school-house, and the banks are covered with strawberry vines, white in
the spring, and red all under the grass where the sun has shined on 'em
long enough--sich strawberries, plump as a baby's mouth, and sweet as
its kisses. What do you think of that, Paul?"
The little fellow did not quite comprehend what Rice was talking about,
but the subject seemed a pleasant one, so he replied, in broken English,
that he should like it very much indeed.
"Yes," said Dave, kindling into enthusiasm by a remembrance of his own
school days, brief as they had been, and spent in a much less pleasant
place than the one he described. "Yes, I kinder see you now, with yer
dinner basket on one arm--the squaws, back of Chewstown, make
scrumptious little baskets, now I tell yer--and Webster's blue-covered
spelling book under t'other, a marching off to that ere seat of larning
which I've been telling you about. The picter is so enticing that I'm in
a hurry to begin. Have you ever been to school?"
The boy looked at Jube in doubt what to answer.
"District school, I mean," said Dave, with a flourish of the hand.
"Where the master or mistress boards about, and ferrules the children
with a pine ruler, if they don't toe a crack every spelling time."
"No," said Paul, meekly, "I never did."
"Nor you nuther, Jube?"
Jube opened his great eyes in wonder at the question. It seemed too
astonishing for any other reply.
"Then you hain't neither of you got a bit of larning?" continued Rice,
patronizingly, "can't read nor write, I reckon."
Paul understood this, and brightened up.
"Oh, yes, Monsieur Rice, I read and write, and do much things in French.
All my life the tutor has taught me how."
"You can, eh! then jist show us what kind of a fist you make of it.
Hallo, here, waiter, bring up pen and ink, with some paper. I want to
see how far this little chap has got along in his eddecation."
The orders were obeyed, and Paul sat down to the rickety table, smiling
as he began to write. Rice stood with his feet wide apart and a hand in
each pocket, looking over the boy's shoulder.
"By jingo, you write like a lady!" he cried, filled with exultation;
"and hain't never been to school! it's 'stonishing. Now let me hear you
spell. We'll skip over the abs, and plunge right into deep larning at
once. Now spell Baker."
Rice plunged his hands deeper into both pockets and shook himself like a
mastiff, satisfied that the boy had got a puzzler now. And so he had,
for it was his first effort at English, and the word, as he tried to
syllable it, was so sweetly broken that Dave shook his head.
"Isn't it right?" inquired Paul, anxiously.
"Well, no, not exactly; but don't be down-hearted. It's a tough word. I
remember studying it over and over again. So keep a stiff upper lip."
"But I shall learn English?" said Paul.
"In course you shall. There's a seat in Shrub Oak school-house waiting
for you now--the very one sister Kate used to set in, bless her purty
face--won't she knit woollen comforters for you. The old woman, too. I
say, look a here, shaver, you never saw such a home as you'll find with
my women folks. No skim milk about them, now I tell you."
"Is there good fire," inquired Jube, shivering with the cold, though a
bright blaze flamed on the hearth.
"A good fire? Well I should think so--back logs as big as porpoises, and
fore sticks to match, trust the old woman for that."
Jube rubbed his hands, and displayed the edge of his firm, white teeth
in a satisfied smile. Warmth was the thing he pined for just then.
"Now that it's settled, supposing we go out and get some good thick
clothes for the shaver, Jube; them silk stockings and finefied shoes
aint the thing, though you do wash and brush them when he's asleep. We
must have socks and boots, and a good thick overcoat, with a seal-skin
cap that turns down at the ears, and yarn mittins. But them, the old
woman will knit, striped two and two, with red and white fringe around
the wrist--don't I remember the pattern. Come, old chap, it aint far
from here to Catharine street, we'll soon have a full rig."
Of course Jube made no objection; indeed, such was his devotion to Rice,
that it is doubtful if he would have resisted any behest of his. They
went out, looking weather-beaten and shabby enough, shivering with cold,
and sallow from the privation of a hard sea voyage. But after a visit
first to a barber's shop, and next to a clothing store, the whole aspect
of things was changed. Little Paul came forth in a fur cap and an
overcoat, so heavy and thick that even his movements, usually graceful
as an antelope's, became a little awkward. Jube was also warmly clad,
and muffled in a comforter, striped with red, green, and yellow, which
had won his extremest admiration.
After providing for the comfort of his friends in this way, Rice took
them to one of the East river wharves, where a sloop, bound for the
mouth of the Housatonic, lay waiting for passengers, and placed them in
charge of the captain. Both Paul and Jube had learned a little broken
English by this time, upon which Rice depended greatly. Besides, he sent
a letter to his mother, beseeching her to receive his friends and
preservers, as he named them, in her own house, and treat them as if
Jube were his brother, and the boy his son--an adopted son, in every
sense of the word, he certainly was. In a few crude lines he gave his
mother to understand how helpless the child was, and how manfully the
African had stood by him when deserted on the disabled brig, and ended
by promising to come home before the vessel sailed again.
With this letter Rice gave Jube some gold pieces, which made the negro's
eyes sparkle, for he recognized them as the coin circulated in his own
country. Thus having provided for his friends, Rice took his way back to
the disabled ship, and the sloop spread its white wings up the sound.
The deep snow, the skeleton trees, and scattering evergreens that lined
the banks of the Housatonic, struck our poor fugitives from the tropics
with a sense of absolute desolation. But the captain was kind, and this
stood in place of sunshine and warmth with them. At the head of
navigation, which brought the sloop to the mouth of the Naugatuc, the
captain sent them forward with a return team, which, having deposited
its load of produce, was ready to proceed up the river road, which led
from Darby to the long wooden bridge below the falls.