BETTER LET SLEEPING DOGS ALONE.
WHEN John Rhines went into the blacksmith’s shop, he found two other
boys there, apprentices, who had been at work some time. They all
boarded with the master, as was the custom at that day.
It was customary for the boys to do some chores about the house,
cut and bring in the wood, and on Monday mornings, the water for
the washing. It was also the wont of all mechanics, at eleven and
four o’clock, to have a glass of liquor, and most of them had a
luncheon--crackers and salt fish. Then the men on the roofs came down
from their ladders, carpenters laid aside their axes, and masons their
trowels, and all set down to “wet their eye,” as they called it. Thus
apprentices were early initiated into the practice of dram-drinking.
The names of these boys--both of whom were older than John, and one
of them nearly out of his time--were Sam Glacier and William Lewis.
The younger of these, Sam Glacier, had sprung from a very poor, low
family, was of a jealous, suspicious disposition, didn’t love work, was
careless, and rather slow to learn.
Sam was very glad when Rhines came, because he knew that the chores
that he had been compelled to do would devolve upon Rhines; that he
should be put behind the anvil, and Rhines would have to blow and
strike for him. But in other respects he did not like John. Indeed, it
was impossible that there could be any friendship between two natures
so entirely opposite. Sam despised John because he _didn’t_ swear, and
would work whether Mr. Starrett was in the shop or not. John despised
Sam because he _did_ swear, and would sit on the anvil whenever his
master’s back was turned. Sam despised John because he knelt down and
said his prayers when he went to bed, and wouldn’t drink liquor at
eleven and four o’clock. John despised Sam because he lay down just
like a hog.
Sam spent his Sundays strolling about the wharves, sailing in boats,
or getting together other boys, and spending the time in smoking and
card-playing, and disliked John because he would not go with him, and
do as he did. John had not been in the shop a month before Sam saw
that Mr. Starrett liked him a great deal better than himself, and
didn’t hesitate to show it.
Sam, imputing this to the fact that John was the son of a rich and he
of a poor man, was embittered against both him and his master. It was
not, however, for any such reason. Mr. Starrett was a rugged, driving,
resolute, generous-hearted man. Indeed, he was something of the turn of
Captain Rhines, whom he considered one of the finest of men.
He wanted boys to work, and work hard, as he did himself; but he fed
them well, treated them kindly, did all in his power to put them ahead
as fast as they developed capacity, and, when the work permitted, gave
them a few hours to themselves, and would let them have iron and coal
to do any little job, and make any little thing to sell to boys or the
neighbors.
The facts in the matter were just these: If Mr. Starrett sent Sam on
board a vessel to back out bolts, or to drive them in, or to take the
measure of anything, he would be gone at least twice as long as was
needful, and very likely come back with the wrong dimensions; and
after the work was done, it would all have to be done over again, and
perhaps the vessel all ready for sea except that. He would neglect to
fore-lock a bolt. It would draw in a gale of wind, and cause serious
damage. But if he sent John, it was all done well, and in the shortest
time. There was another reason. He forged a great many anchors for
fishermen, which was heavy work, and required a great deal of striking
with a large sledge; and John always struck with a good will, was
never tired, and would draw the iron more at one blow than Sam, or
even Lewis, at two. No wonder then that Mr. Starrett liked John best,
put him ahead, and gave him jobs, that, in the usual course of things,
belonged to Sam. It was just the same at the anvil as everywhere else.
The boy that does the best for his employer does the best for himself.
But the matter did not stop even here. It was the same in the house.
Mrs. Starrett and Betty, the maid, conceived the strongest liking for
John, and for equally substantial reasons as his master. If asked to
do anything, he did it willingly, and on this very account was more
lightly taxed.
“I hate to ask John to wait on me,” said Mrs. Starrett, “because he
does it so willingly; for I know he works hard, and I had rather do it
myself.”
“He’s a gentleman, every inch of him,” replied Betty. “He wasn’t
brought up on a dunghill,--that’s plain to be seen. I often bring water
myself rather than ask him. But as for that Glacier, I made him wait
on me by inches, he was so hoggish and lazy. If he gave me any of his
impudence, I went straight to his master with the tale.”
It chanced one day that John was absent at dinner-time, his master
having sent him to the wharf. A plate was set on for Sam that was
cracked, and had a piece taken out of the edge. He was so put out about
it that he went off without his dinner.
Mrs. Starrett told Betty to put it on for John when he came.
“I’ll do no such thing! I’ll not put him below that growling creature!”
“Do as I tell you, Betty.”
When John came in, he sat down and ate his dinner, neither noticing nor
caring whether the plate was cracked or not.
“There,” said Mrs. Starrett, “what do you think of that?”
“That is just what I should expect,” said Mr. Starrett, who happened to
be in the house. “If you want a boy that’s difficult, always growling,
never satisfied, and all the time afraid he shall be imposed upon, get
one that never had any bringing up, nor half enough to eat at home.”
There was another circumstance that tended to foster, even in the mind
of Lewis, who was a very different boy from Glacier, a dislike to John;
they were bound to serve a regular apprenticeship, John was not; and it
was plain to see, that with his ambition and capacity he would get the
trade and be working for wages long before they were out of their time.
The boys had but very little leisure; men worked then upon no ten-hour
system, but from sun to sun.
Ship-carpenters worked till there was just light enough left to see
to pick up their tools; and blacksmiths, during short days in winter,
worked in the evenings. When they happened to have any leisure, Lewis,
with Glacier and others, pitched quoits, jumped, and wrestled, or
played pull-up, or ball, on a green plat, behind the shop. John was not
invited to go with them; they considered him strait-laced, stuck up,
and longed to take him down a peg or two.
One day, as they were going down a descending piece of ground, on their
way to dinner, Lewis proposed to Glacier to trip him up. Glacier
accordingly thrust his foot between John’s legs, thinking to trip and
throw him down hill; but he did not accomplish his purpose. John then,
putting one hand on his shoulder, apparently with very little effort,
sent him head foremost down the hill, and skinned his nose and chin in
the fall. John was so quiet, free from all pretensions, amiable in his
disposition, didn’t swear, said his prayers, and went to meeting, that
although they knew his strength, they thought it impossible for him to
know anything about wrestling or scuffling; accordingly, after work
that evening, they invited him to go behind the shop and wrestle.
“You can throw him, Sam; if you can’t, I can,” said Lewis; “he is
strong to strike with a sledge; but he don’t know anything about
wrestling.”
Never were boys more mistaken: he flung Glacier and Lewis the moment he
took hold of them, and every apprentice they could bring; and the worst
of it was, he didn’t seem to think it worth crowing over, or that he
had found worthy antagonists. Mr. Starrett was mightily pleased when it
came to his ears.
“I’ve twigged their motions,” he said; “they’ve been itching this four
weeks to impose upon John, just because he’s a better boy than they
are; they’ve found out now it’s better to let a sleeping dog alone;
better not meddle with anybody that’s got any Rhines blood in them.
I wonder what they would think of Ben, or this boy’s grandfather. O,
he was an awful strong man. I remember him when I was a small boy; he
looked to me like a tree walking about.”
A short time after this circumstance, Mr. Starrett said to Glacier,--
“Sam, you’ve been with me more than two years. I’ve done my best to put
you forward and learn you; but you are lazy and careless, and don’t
care whether you learn or not. Rhines has learned more in four months
than you have in the whole two years. I shall now put him behind the
anvil, and you must blow and strike for him.”
Sam was grouty, and did all in his power to plague John, and spoil
his work. One day, when John was at work upon something where it
was necessary to be accurate, he irritated him beyond the limits of
forbearance.
“Glacier,” said John, “if you keep on striking after I make the signal
to stop, and if when you take anything out of the fire to weld, you
hold it askew, and don’t keep it in its place till it’s stuck, I’ll
lay you across this anvil, and put the hammer handle on you till you
see stars.”
This settled the matter. Sam did very well after that, till he ran
away, and a better boy came in his place. John now went on apace.
Just before noon, one day, he was strapping a dead-eye, when Joe
Griffin came into the shop. If ever anybody received a hearty welcome,
Joe did from John.
“How are father and mother?”
“First rate; they are all well at home, and on the island. Uncle Isaac
and our Henry are with me in the schooner,” replied Joe, by way of
summing up.
“What is Charlie doing?”
“O, Charlie, he’s in kingdom come; he’s put the nub on now.”
“Do tell; what is it?”
“You mustn’t mention it aboard the schooner; but he has taken moulds
from the old boat that you and he split in two, timbered out and
planked up a boat of the same size, and I’m going to get the paint to
paint her; then he’s coming out, I tell you; and here’s a letter from
him.”
“O, how I wish I could be there, to go with him! but the boy time, with
Charlie and me, is about over; we have got to put our bones to it now.
How is Fred Williams getting along?”
“First rate; has all the fish he can make, and buys a good many. So
they’ve put you behind the anvil, and set you to strapping dead-eyes.
Pretty good job for a boy who has worked no longer than you have; they
don’t set bunglers to strapping dead-eyes.”
It was now twelve o’clock; Mr. Starrett invited Joe to dinner, and gave
John the afternoon to spend with his friend, and they went on board
the Perseverance. John sat up half the night to make an anchor for
Charlie’s boat, to send by Joe; he also made some iron bow pins for
Uncle Isaac and Ben, and an eel spear for his father.