I don't know if you are acquainted with Tom McGinnis. Everybody knows
his father, for he's been in Congress, though he is a poor man, and
sells hay and potatoes, and I heard father say that Mr. McGinnis is the
most remarkable man in the country. Well, Tom is Mr. McGinnis's boy, and
he's about my age, and thinks he's tremendously smart; and I used to
think so too, but now I don't think quite so much of him. He and I went
away to be pirates the other day, and I found out that he will never do
for a pirate.
You see, we had both got into difficulties. It wasn't my fault, I am
sure, but it's such a painful subject that I won't describe it. I will
merely say that after it was all over, I went to see Tom to tell him
that it was no use to put shingles under your coat, for how is that
going to do your legs any good, and I tried it because Tom advised me
to. I found that he had just had a painful scene with his father on
account of apples; and I must say it served him right, for he had no
business to touch them without permission. So I said, "Look here, Tom,
what's the use of our staying at home and being laid onto with switches
and our best actions misunderstood and our noblest and holiest emotions
held up to ridicule?" That's what I heard a young man say to Sue one
day, but it was so beautiful that I said it to Tom myself.
"Oh, go 'way," said Tom.
"That's what I say," said I. "Let's go away and be pirates. There's a
brook that runs through Deacon Sammis's woods, and it stands to reason
that it must run into the Spanish Main, where all the pirates are. Let's
run away, and chop down a tree, and make a canoe, and sail down the
brook till we get to the Spanish Main, and then we can capture a
schooner, and be regular pirates."
"Hurrah!" says Tom. "We'll do it. Let's run away to-night. I'll take
father's hatchet, and the carving-knife, and some provisions, and meet
you back of our barn at ten o'clock."
"I'll be there," said I. "Only, if we're going to be pirates, let's be
strictly honest. Don't take anything belonging to your father. I've got
a hatchet, and a silver knife with my name on it, and I'll save my
supper and take it with me."
So that night I watched my chance, and dropped my supper into my
handkerchief, and stuffed it into my pocket. When ten o'clock came, I
tied up my clothes in a bundle, and took my hatchet and the silver
knife and some matches, and slipped out the back door, and met Tom. He
had nothing with him but his supper and a backgammon board and a bag of
marbles. We went straight for the woods, and after we'd selected a big
tree to cut down, we ate our supper. Just then the moon went under a
cloud, and it grew awfully dark. We couldn't see very well how to chop
the tree, and after Tom had cut his fingers, we put off cutting down the
tree till morning, and resolved to build a fire. We got a lot of
fire-wood, but I dropped the matches, and when we found them again they
were so damp that they wouldn't light.
All at once the wind began to blow, and made a dreadful moaning in the
woods. Tom said it was bears, and that though he wanted to be a pirate,
he hadn't calculated on having any bears. Then he said it was cold, and
so it was, but I told him that it would be warm enough when we got to
the Spanish Main, and that pirates ought not to mind a little cold.
Pretty soon it began to rain, and then Tom began to cry. It just poured
down, and the way our teeth chattered was terrible. By-and-by Tom jumped
up, and said he wasn't going to be eaten up by bears and get an awful
cold, and he started on a run for home. Of course I wasn't going to be a
pirate all alone, for there wouldn't be any fun in that, so I started
after him. He must have been dreadfully frightened, for he ran as fast
as he could, and as I was in a hurry, I tried to catch up with him. If
he hadn't tripped over a root, and I hadn't tripped over him, I don't
believe I could have caught him. When I fell on him, you ought to have
heard him yell. He thought I was a bear, but any sensible pirate would
have known I wasn't.
Tom left me at his front gate, and said he had made up his mind he
wouldn't be a pirate, and that it would be a great deal more fun to be a
plumber and melt lead. I went home, and as the house was locked up, I
had to ring the front-door bell. Father came to the door himself, and
when he saw me, he said, "Jimmy, what in the world does this mean?" So I
told him that Tom and me had started for the Spanish Main to be pirates,
but Tom had changed his mind, and that I thought I'd change mine too.
Father had me put to bed, and hot bottles and things put in the bed with
me, and before I went to sleep, he came and said, "Good-night, Jimmy.
We'll try and have more fun at home, so that there won't be any
necessity of your being a pirate." And I said, "Dear father, I'd a good
deal rather stay with you, and I'll never be a pirate without your
permission."
This is why I say that Tom McGinnis will never make a good pirate. He's
too much afraid of getting wet.