BOSTON.
The sun, streaming in from the window, awoke Jerry from his slumbers,
after his first night in Boston. On getting up he found that his room
was higher than the surrounding buildings, affording an extensive
prospect. One of the first objects that met his eye he concluded must
be Bunker Hill Monument, as it resembled the engravings he had seen of
that structure. There were a great many church-steeples in sight, and
the houses seemed to be crowded together almost as close as they could
be packed. He could also see a strip of water, with numerous vessels,
one or two of which were very large, noble-looking ships. These last
were men-of-war, belonging to the American Government, and were
anchored off the Navy-Yard at Charlestown.
But Jerry did not stop to gaze long at the novel scene spread before
him. Other matters claimed his attention. As he dressed himself he
began to consider what he should do next. He was acquainted with but
one family in the place,—that of his uncle,—and he did not dare to go
to them, lest they should send him back to his home. If Oscar had only
been at home, he would have lost no time in seeing him; but he knew,
from letters received by his parents, that his wayward cousin had gone
to sea, several months before. A stranger, in a great city, with no
one to advise or assist, and cast entirely upon his own resources, it
must be confessed that Jerry felt rather dull, that morning. And yet he
did not wish to return to his home, and his greatest fear was that his
friends would discover where he was. He thought it would not be safe
to stay long in Boston, and so he determined to try at once to get a
chance to go to sea—a design on which he had set his heart, before he
started from home.
Jerry’s reflections were interrupted by the ringing of a large bell, in
the entry below, and thinking it might be the summons to breakfast, he
went down. Following the current of men and women, he found himself
in a large hall, in which a long table was spread. The man with whom
he had the conversation the night before, was there, and beckoned him
to a chair at the table. There were thirty or forty persons at the
table, and the rattling of dishes, the clatter of knives and forks, and
the low hum of conversation, soon commenced in good earnest. Some six
or eight young men, in slippers and jackets, and wearing small white
aprons, were continually flying back and forth, behind the boarders,
bringing cups of tea and coffee, and passing dishes to those who could
not reach them. Sometimes half a dozen persons would order as many
different things, of the same waiter, almost at the same moment, and
Jerry thought the man must be puzzled to know which to get first;
but in a minute he would return, and hand to each the article which
he ordered. The skill which these men acquire in their business, by
practice, is often quite remarkable to one unaccustomed to the sight.
The company did not all leave the table at once, but one or two at a
time, just as they happened to finish their meal. Jerry having eaten
all he desired, arose and went to the office. The clerk of the hotel
entered, soon after, and Jerry took the opportunity to pay his bill,
which amounted to seventy-five cents. With his bundle in hand, he now
started off, with the design of shipping for a voyage, or, if he could
not do this, of procuring a cheap boarding place, where he might remain
until he could find a chance to go to sea.
The streets were full of people, who all seemed intent on going
somewhere, as fast as possible. Jerry, as he slowly passed along toward
the point where he had seen the ships from his chamber window, was
jostled first on one side and then on the other, and it required no
little effort to dodge the current which was sweeping by him. This was
partly because he did not keep to the right side of the walk, as is the
usual custom in cities, but turned sometimes to the left, and sometimes
to the right, and sometimes took the centre. Few of the persons he met
seemed to take any notice of him. Two boys, however, whose dress was
better than their manners, stopped almost directly in front of him, and
stared at him until he passed by, with a comical expression on their
faces. A loud laugh, and the expression, “Aint he green, Sam!” which
reached the ears of Jerry, immediately after, explained their conduct.
The horses and carriages in the street were quite as novel a sight to
Jerry, as the strange faces he met on the side walk. A continuous line
of vehicles, of all descriptions, was passing back and forth. There
were long trucks, with two or three noble horses harnessed “tandem,”
and short cabs, which looked as though they had been curtailed of
their original proportions; ponderous carts, with broad wheels, and
light, gaily-painted express wagons; omnibuses and coaches, chaises
and buggies, wheel-barrows and hand carts, all passing in an endless
procession. Jerry observed one little incident that highly amused
him. A small boy, intent on having a free ride, got upon the steps at
the end of a passing omnibus; but he had hardly settled himself into
a comfortable position, when a passenger inside, who had watched his
proceedings, reached his hand through the open window, and seizing his
cap, threw it high into the air. The lad’s face was in an instant red
with passion, and giving the man a look which said as plain as looks
could speak, “I’d pay you for that—if I could,” away he ran to recover
his cap, which had fallen into the street; and so the poor boy lost
both his ride, and his temper.
Jerry continued his walk, and soon found himself in the neighborhood of
the shipping. Most of the wharves, in this locality, are covered with
coal, wood, lumber, lime, and other products of the coasting trade.
Nearly all of the vessels lying at these wharves were small, and Jerry
noticed that many of them came from ports in the State of Maine, the
names of the towns where they belonged being painted upon their sterns.
There was nothing very inviting to Jerry, about these wharves, and
he passed on. Presently, the wharves began to grow longer, and the
vessels larger. At one place he encountered quite a crowd of people,
and several teams and carriages, which were coming up from one of
these wharves. This was the slip of the Chelsea ferry-boats. Seeing a
steamboat at the end of the wharf, Jerry turned in, to look at it; but
just before reaching the boat, he was stopped by a man in a loll-house,
who told him that he could not pass without paying the fare. Not
wishing to go to Chelsea, at that time, Jerry turned back, and resumed
his walk along Commercial street.
As Jerry kept on, the shipping began to grow more numerous, and almost
everything he saw had something to do with the sea. The most common
signs on the street were “Naval Stores,” “Ship Chandlery,” “Sail Loft,”
“Commission Merchant,” etc.; and on most of the wharves were long
blocks of warehouses and stores, some of which were built of granite,
and made a very imposing and substantial appearance. Sailors were
plenty, too. Some of them were “old salts” with great brown hands,
and grizzled locks, and little gold rings in their ears, and leather
belts around their waists, in which they carried their sheath-knives.
Some were young men, whose sun-burnt faces were half buried in huge,
dark whiskers, and whose pea-jackets and pantaloons bore witness that
they were not unacquainted with grease and tar. Occasionally, Jerry
would meet a lad about his own size, whose dark blue pants, fitting
snugly around the waist and worn without suspenders,—and neat blue
jacket, with a turned down shirt collar of the same color, edged with
white,—and shining tarpaulin hat, stuck upon the back of his head,—at
once excited his admiration and envy.
Jerry now thought it time to look around among the vessels, and see if
he could accomplish the object of his journey. He accordingly turned
down a wharf at which some twenty or thirty craft of various kinds were
lying, with the determination of applying to each one of them for a
situation, in regular order, until he should be successful. The first
two or three vessels which he approached were apparently deserted. No
person was to be seen about them, and of course they afforded no chance
for Jerry. The next vessel he came to was a large ship, which towered
so high out of the water that he could see nothing of the deck from
where he stood. There were some steps leading from the wharf to the
deck, which Jerry ascended. The only person on board he could see was
a negro, who was in a little house built upon the deck, from the top
of which smoke was issuing through a stove-pipe. This place was the
caboose, or kitchen of the ship, and its inmate was the cook. To the
inquiry whether a boy was wanted on board, a gruff “No” was the only
response. Jerry descended to the wharf, and continued his walk, though
with little success. On board some of the vessels, the men were so busy
at their labors that he could get no answer to his inquiries; and
those who did notice him so much as to reply, were sure to say “No.”
Jerry’s hopes began to fall very fast, and he felt his courage giving
way, in consequence of these continued rebuffs. Still he thought he
would not give up his purpose yet, and so he passed along. He received
the usual reply, from the next vessel he approached, and had just
turned away, when he heard somebody cry out:—
“Hallo, there, what youngster is that?”
On looking round, Jerry saw that the voice came from a brig which was
slowly moving past the vessel on whose deck he stood.
“He’s a chap that wants to ship,” replied the sailor to whom Jerry had
spoken.
“You aint the boy that shipped with us yesterday, are you?” continued
the man on board the brig, as Jerry turned towards him.
“No, sir,” replied Jerry, “but I should like to ship with you.”
“Well, come along then—we’re off this minute, and can’t wait for the
other fellow. You may take his place—only be spry about it.”
Here the man, who was captain of the brig, gave some orders in a loud
tone to the crew, which were unintelligible to Jerry. In a moment the
brig was hauled to along side the vessel in which Jerry was waiting,
and, in his confusion scarcely knowing what he did, he quickly jumped
over the railing, into the brig. The sailors then re-commenced hauling
her out from the dock into the stream. Jerry threw his bundle down upon
the deck, and stood watching the movements of those around him. He
could scarcely realize that he was going to sea, in this unceremonious
manner, and began to suspect that the sailors were playing a joke upon
him. But all seemed in earnest, and as busy as they could be, and on
the whole he concluded they were not sporting with him. No one spoke
to him, however, or set him to work, and as he was as yet totally
unacquainted with the duties of a sailor-boy, he did not venture to
volunteer his services. But his long-cherished hopes were realized, and
his heart beat fast at the prospect before him. Strange boy! He had
shipped with no outfit for the voyage, and he did not know where he
was bound, nor even the name of the vessel, or of the captain. He did
not know what wages he was to receive, what duties he was expected to
perform, or how long he was to be absent. And yet he thought of none of
these things, so delighted was he to find himself actually afloat. One
by one the white sails of the brig were spread to the wind, and she was
soon in full headway towards the broad ocean.