At five o'clock the next morning Joey was called up by Mrs Chopper; the
waterman was in attendance, and, with the aid of Joey, carried down the
various articles into the boat. When all was ready, Mrs Chopper and
Joey sat down to their breakfast, which consisted of tea, bread and
butter, and red herrings; and, as soon as it was finished, they
embarked, and the boat shoved off.
"Well, Mrs Chopper," said the waterman, "so I perceive you've got a new
hand."
"Yes," replied Mrs Chopper; "don't you think he's the moral of poor
Peter?"
"Well, I don't know; but there is a something about the cut of his jib
which reminds me of him, now you mention it. Peter was a good boy."
"Aye, that he was, and as sharp as a needle. You see," said Mrs
Chopper, turning to Joey, "sharp's the word in a bumboat. There's many
who pay, and many who don't; some I trust, and some I don't--that is,
those who won't pay me old debts. We lose a bit of money at times, but
it all comes round in the end; but I lose more by not booking the things
taken than in any other way, for sailors do pay when they have the
money--that is, if ever they come back again, poor fellows. Now,
Peter."
"What! is his name Peter, too?"
"Yes, I must call him Peter, William; he is so like poor Peter."
"Well, that will suit me; I hate learning new names."
"Well, but, Peter," continued Mrs Chopper, "you must be very careful;
for, you see, I'm often called away here and there after wash clothes
and such things; and then you must look out, and if they do take up
anything, why, you must book it, at all events. You'll learn by-and-bye
who to trust, and who not to trust; for I know the most of my customers.
You must not trust a woman--I mean any of the sailors' wives--unless I
tell you; and you must be very sharp with them, for they play all manner
of tricks; you must look two ways at once. Now, there's a girl on board
the brig we are pulling to, called Nancy; why, she used to weather poor
Peter, sharp as he was. She used to pretend to be very fond of him, and
hug him close to her with one arm, so as to blind him, while she stole
the tarts with the other; so, don't admit her familiarities; if you do,
I shall pay for them."
"Then, who am I to trust?"
"Bless the child! you'll soon find out that; but mind one thing; never
trust a tall, lanky seaman without his name's on the books; those chaps
never pay. There's the book kept by poor Peter; and you see names upon
the top of each score--at least, I believe so; I have no learning
myself, but I've a good memory; I can't read nor write, and that's why
Peter was so useful."
That Peter could read his own writing it is to be presumed; but certain
it was that Joey could not make it out until after many days
examination, when he discovered that certain hieroglyphics were meant to
represent certain articles; after which it became more easy.
They had now reached the side of the vessel, and the sailors came down
into the boat, and took up several articles upon credit; Joey booked
them very regularly.
"Has Bill been down yet?" said a soft voice from the gangway.
"No, Nancy, he has not."
"Then he wants two red herrings, a sixpenny loaf, and some 'baccy."
Joey looked up, and beheld a very handsome, fair, blue-eyed girl with a
most roguish look, who was hanging over the side.
"Then he must come himself, Nancy," replied Mrs Chopper, "for, you
know, the last time you took up the things he said that you were never
told to do so, and he would not pay for them."
"That's because the fool was jealous; I lost the tobacco, Mrs Chopper,
and he said I had given it to Dick Snapper."
"I can't help that; he must come himself."
"But he's away in the boat, and he told me to get the things for him.
Who have you there? Not Peter; no, it's not Peter; but, what a dear
little boy."
"I told you so," said Mrs Chopper to our hero; "now, if I wasn't in the
boat, she would be down in it in a minute, and persuade you to let her
have the things--and she never pays."
Joey looked up again, and, as he looked at Nancy, felt that it would be
very unkind to refuse her.
"Now, what a hard-hearted old woman you are, Mrs Chopper. Bill will
come on board; and, as sure as I stand here, he'll whack me. He will
pay you, you may take my word for it."
"Your word, Nancy!" replied Mrs Chopper, shaking her head.
"Stop a moment," said Nancy, coming down the side with very little
regard as to showing her well-formed legs; "stop, Mrs Chopper, and I'll
explain to you."
"It's no use coming down, Nancy, I tell you," replied Mrs Chopper.
"Well, we shall see," replied Nancy, taking her seat in the boat, and
looking archly in Mrs Chopper's face; "the fact is Mrs Chopper, you
don't know what a good-tempered woman you are."
"I know, Nancy, what you are," replied Mrs Chopper.
"Oh, so does everybody: I'm nobody's enemy but my own, they say."
"Ah! that's very true, child; more's the pity."
"Now, I didn't come down to wheedle you out of anything, Mrs Chopper,
but merely to talk to you, and look at this pretty boy."
"There you go, Nancy; but ain't he like Peter?"
"Well, and so he is! very like Peter; he has Peter's eyes and his nose,
and his mouth is exactly Peter's--how very strange!"
"I never see'd such a likeness!" exclaimed Mrs Chopper.
"No, indeed," replied Nancy, who, by agreeing with Mrs Chopper in all
she said, and praising Joey, and his likeness to Peter, at last quite
came over the old bumboat-woman; and Nancy quitted her boat with the two
herrings, the loaf; and the paper of tobacco.
"Shall I put them down, Mrs Chopper?" said Joey.
"Oh, dear," replied Mrs Chopper, coming to her recollection, "I'm
afraid that it's no use; but put them down, anyhow; they will do for bad
debts. Shove off, William, we must go to the large ship now."
"I do wish that that Nancy was at any other port," exclaimed Mrs
Chopper, as they quitted the vessel's side; "I do lose so much money by
her."
"Well," said the waterman, laughing, "you're not the only one; she can
wheedle man or woman, or, as they say, the devil to boot, if she would
try."
During the whole of the day the wherry proceeded from ship to ship,
supplying necessaries; in many instances they were paid for in ready
money, in others Joey's capabilities were required, and they were booked
down against the customers. At last, about five o'clock in the evening,
the beer-barrel being empty, most of the contents of the baskets nearly
exhausted, and the wherry loaded with the linen for the wash, biscuits,
empty bottles, and various other articles of traffic or exchange, Mrs
Chopper ordered William, the waterman, to pull on shore to the
landing-place.
As soon as the baskets and other articles had been carried up to the
house, Mrs Chopper sent out for the dinner, which was regularly
obtained from a cook's-shop. Joey sat down with her, and when his meal
was finished, Mrs Chopper told him he might take a run and stretch his
legs a little if he pleased, while she tended to the linen which was to
go to the wash. Joey was not sorry to take advantage of this
considerate permission, for his legs were quite cramped from sitting so
long jammed up between baskets of eggs, red herrings, and the other
commodities which had encompassed him.
We must now introduce Mrs Chopper to the reader a little more
ceremoniously. She was the widow of a boatswain, who had set her up in
the bumboat business with some money he had acquired a short time before
his death, and she had continued it ever since on her own account.
People said that she was rich, but riches are comparative, and if a
person in a seaport town, and in her situation, could show 200 or 300
pounds at her bankers, she was considered rich. If she was rich in
nothing else, she certainly was in bad and doubtful debts, having seven
or eight books like that which Joey was filling up for her during the
whole day, all containing accounts of long standing, and most of which
probably would stand for ever; but if the bad debts were many, the
profits were in proportion; and what with the long standing debts being
occasionally paid, the ready-money she continually received, and the
profitable traffic which she made in the way of exchange, etcetera, she
appeared to do a thriving business, although it is certain the one-half
of her goods were as much given away as were the articles obtained from
her in the morning by Nancy.
It is a question whether these books of bad debts were not a source of
enjoyment to her, for every night she would take one of the books down,
and although she could not read, yet, by having them continually read to
her, and knowing the pages so exactly, she could almost repeat every
line by heart which the various bills contained; and then there was
always a story which she had to tell about each--something relative to
the party of whom the transaction reminded her; and subsequently, when
Joey was fairly domiciled with her, she would make him hand down one of
the books, and talk away from it for hours; they were the ledgers of her
reminiscences; the events of a considerable portion of her life were all
entered down along with the 'baccy, porter, pipes, and red herrings; a
bill for these articles was to her time, place and circumstance; and
what with a good memory, and bad debts to assist it, many were the hours
which were passed away (and pleasantly enough, too, for one liked to
talk, and the other to listen) between Mrs Chopper and our little hero.
But we must not anticipate.
The permission given to Joey to stretch his legs induced him to set off
as fast as he could to gain the high road before his little friend, Emma
Phillips, had left her school. He sat down in the same place, waiting
for her coming. The spot had become hallowed to the poor fellow, for he
had there met with a friend--with one who sympathised with him when he
most required consolation. He now felt happy, for he was no longer in
doubt about obtaining his livelihood, and his first wish was to impart
the pleasing intelligence to his little friend. She was not long before
she made her appearance in her little straw bonnet with blue ribbons.
Joey started up, and informed her that he had got a very nice place,
explained to her what it was, and how he had been employed during the
day.
"And I can very often come out about this time, I think," added Joey,
"and then I can walk home with you, and see that you come to no harm."
"But," replied the little girl, "my mother says that she would like to
see you, as she will not allow me to make acquaintance with people I
meet by accident. Don't you think that mother is right?"
"Yes, I do; she's very right," replied Joey; "I didn't think of that."
"Will you come and see her, then?"
"Not now, because I am not very clean. I'll come on Sunday, if I can
get leave."
They separated, and Joey returned back to the town. As he walked on, he
thought he would spend the money he had got in a suit of Sunday clothes,
of a better quality than those he had on, the materials of which were
very coarse. On second thoughts, he resolved to apply to Mrs Chopper,
as he did not exactly know where to go for them, and was afraid that he
would be imposed upon.
"Well, Peter," said his new mistress, "do you feel better for your
walk?"
"Yes, thank you, ma'am."
"Peter," continued Mrs Chopper, "you appear to be a very handy, good
boy, and I hope we shall live together a long while. How long have you
been at sea?"
"I was going to sea; I have never been to sea yet, and I don't want to
go; I would rather stay with you."
"And so you shall, that's a settled thing. What clothes have you got,
Peter?"
"I have none but what I stand in, and a few shirts in a bundle, and they
are Sunday ones; but when I left home I had some money given me, and I
wish to buy a suit of clothes for Sunday, to go to church in."
"That's a good boy, and so you shall; but how much money have you got?"
"Quite enough to buy a suit of clothes," replied Joey, handing out two
sovereigns, and seventeen shillings in silver.
"Oh, I suppose they gave you all that to fit you out with when you left
home; poor people, I dare say they worked hard for it. Well, I don't
think the money will be of any use to you; so you had better buy a
Sunday suit, and I will take care you want for nothing afterwards.
Don't you think I'm right?"
"Yes, I wish to do so. To-day is Tuesday; I may have them made by next
Sunday?"
"So you can; and as soon as William comes in, which he will soon, from
the washerwoman's, we will go out and order them. Here he comes up the
stairs--no, that foot's too light for his. Well, it's Nancy, I declare!
Why, Nancy, now," continued Mrs Chopper, in a deprecating tone, "what
do you want here?"
"Well, I leave you to guess," replied Nancy, looking very demurely, and
taking a seat upon a hamper.
"Guess, I fear there's no guess in it, Nancy; but I will not--now it's
no use--I will not trust another shilling."
"But I know you will, Mrs Chopper. Lord love you, you're such a
good-natured creature, you can't refuse any one, and certainly not me.
Why don't you take me in your boat with you as your assistant? then
there would be something in it worth looking at. I should bring you
plenty of custom."
"You're too wild, Nancy; too wild, girl. But, now, what do you want?
recollect you've already had some things to-day."
"I know I have, and you are a good-natured old trump, that you are. Now
I'll tell you--gold must pass between us this time."
"Mercy on me, Nancy, why you're mad. I've no gold--nothing but bad
debts."
"Look you, Mrs Chopper, look at this shabby old bonnet of mine. Don't
I want a new one?"
"Then you must get somebody else to give you money, Nancy," replied Mrs
Chopper, coolly and decidedly.
"Don't talk so fast, Mrs Chopper: now, I'll let you know how it is.
When Bill came on board he asked the captain for an advance; the captain
refused him before, but this time he was in a good humour, and he
consented. So then I coaxed Bill out of a sovereign to buy a new
bonnet, and he gave it me; and then I thought what a kind soul you were,
and I resolved that I would bring you the sovereign, and go without the
new bonnet; so here it is, take it quick, or I shall repent."
"Well, Nancy," said Mrs Chopper, "you said right; gold has passed
between us, and I am surprised. Now I shall trust you again."
"And so you ought; it's not every pretty girl, like me, who will give up
a new bonnet. Only look what a rubbishy affair this is," continued
Nancy, giving her own a kick up in the air.
"I wish I had a sovereign to give away," said Joey to Mrs Chopper; "I
wish I had not said a word about the clothes."
"Do as you like with your own money, my dear," said the bumboat-woman.
"Then, Nancy, I'll give you a sovereign to buy yourself a new bonnet
with," said Joey, taking one out of his pocket and putting into her
hand.
Nancy looked at the sovereign, and then at Joey. "Bless the boy!" said
she, at last, kissing him on the forehead; "he has a kind heart; may the
world use him better than it has me! Here, take your sovereign, child;
any bonnet's good enough for one like me." So saying, Nancy turned
hastily away, and ran downstairs.