_In Which Billy Topsail and Doctor Luke Take to the Ice in the Night
and Doctor Luke Tells Billy Topsail Something Interesting About
Skinflint Sam and Bad-Weather Tom West of Ragged Run_
Doctor Luke and Billy Topsail took to the harbour ice and drove head
down into the gale. There were ten miles to go. It was to be a night's
work. They settled themselves doggedly to the miles. It was a mile and a
half to the Head, where the Tickle led a narrow way from the shelter of
Our Harbour to Anxious Bight and the open sea; and from the lee of the
Head--a straightaway across Anxious Bight--it was nine miles to
Blow-me-Down Dick of Ragged Run Cove. Doctor Luke had rested but three
hours. It was but a taste. Legs and feet were bitterly unwilling to
forego a sufficient rest. They complained of the interruption. They were
stiff and sore and sullen. It was hard to warm them to their labour.
Impatient to revive the accustomed comfort and glow of strength, Doctor
Luke began to run.
Presently they slowed up. Doctor Luke told Billy Topsail, as they pushed
on, something about the Ragged Run family they were to visit. "There is
a small trader at Ragged Run," said he. "A strange mixture of conscience
and greed he is. Skinflint Sam--they call him. Conscience? Oh, yes, he
has a conscience! And his conscience--as he calls it--has made him rich
as riches go in these parts. No, of course not! You wouldn't expect a
north-coast trader to have a conscience; and you wouldn't expect a
north-coast trader with a conscience to be rich!"
Billy Topsail agreed with this.
"Ah, well," Doctor Luke went on, "conscience is much like the wind. It
blows every which way (as they say); and if a man does but trim his
sails to suit, he can bowl along in any direction without much wear and
tear of the spirit. Skinflint Sam bowled along, paddle-punt fisherman to
Ragged Run merchant. Skinflint went where he was bound for,
wing-and-wing to the breeze behind, and got there with his peace of mind
showing never a sign of the weather. It is said that the old man has an
easy conscience and ten thousand dollars!
"This Bad-Weather West vowed long ago that he would even scores with
Skinflint Sam before he could pass to his last harbour with any
satisfaction.
"'With me, Tom?' said Sam. 'That's a saucy notion for a hook-an'-line
man.'
"'Ten more years o' life,' said Tom, 'an' I'll square scores.'
"'Afore you evens scores with me, Tom,' said Sam, 'you'll have t' have
what I wants.'
"'I may have it.'
"'An' also,' said Sam, 'what I can't get.'
"'There's times,' said Tom, 'when a man stands in sore need o' what he
never thought he'd want.'
"'When you haves what I needs,' said Sam, 'I'll pay what you asks.'
"'If 'tis for sale,' said Tom.
"'Money talks,' said Sam.
"'Ah, well,' said Tom, 'maybe it don't speak my language.'
"Of course, Skinflint Sam's conscience is just as busy as any other
man's conscience. I think it troubles Sam. It doesn't trouble him to be
honest, perhaps; it troubles him only to be rich. And possibly it gives
him no rest. When trade is dull--no fish coming into Sam's storehouses
and no goods going out of Sam's shop--Sam's conscience makes him
grumble and groan. They say a man never was so tortured by conscience
before.
"And to ease his conscience Sam goes over his ledgers by night; and he
will jot down a gallon of molasses here, and a pound of tea there, until
he has made a good day's trade of a bad one. 'Tis simple enough, too:
for Sam gives out no accounts, but just strikes his balances to please
his greed, at the end of the season, and tells his dealers how much they
owe him or how little he owes them."
Doctor Luke paused.
"Ay," said Billy Topsail. "I've seed that way o' doin' business."
"We all have, Billy," said Doctor Luke. And resumed: "In dull times
Sam's conscience irks him into overhauling his ledgers. 'Tis otherwise
in seasons of plenty. But Sam's conscience apparently keeps pricking
away just the same--aggravating Sam into getting richer and richer.
There is no rest for Skinflint Sam. Skinflint Sam must have all the
money he can take by hook and crook or suffer the tortures of an evil
conscience. And as any other man, Sam must ease that conscience or lose
sleep o' nights.
"And so in seasons of plenty up goes the price of tea at Skinflint Sam's
shop. And up goes the price of pork. And up goes the price of flour. All
sky high, ecod! Never was such harsh times (says Sam); why, my dear man,
up St. John's way (says he) you couldn't touch tea nor pork nor flour
with a ten-foot sealing-gaff. And no telling what the world is coming
to, with prices soaring like a gull in a gale and all the St. John's
merchants chary of credit!
"''Tis awful times for us poor traders,' says Sam. 'No tellin' who'll
weather this here panic. I'd not be surprised if we got a war out of
it.'
"Well, now, as you know, Billy, on the north-coast in these days it
isn't much like the big world beyond. Folk don't cruise about. They are
too busy. And they are not used to it anyhow. Ragged Run folk are not
born at Ragged Run, raised at Rickity Tickle, married at Seldom-Come-By,
aged at Skeleton Harbour and buried at Run-By-Guess. They are born and
buried at Ragged Run. So what the fathers think at Ragged Run, the sons
think; and what the sons know, has been known by the old men for a good
many years.
"Nobody is used to changes. They are shy of changes. New ways are
fearsome. And so the price of flour is a mystery. _It is, anyhow._ Why
it should go up and down at Ragged Run is beyond any man of Ragged Run
to fathom. When Skinflint Sam says that the price of flour is up--well,
then, it is up; and that's all there is about it. Nobody knows better.
And Skinflint Sam has the flour. You know all about that sort of thing,
don't you, Billy?"
"Ay, sir," Billy replied. "But I been helpin' the clerk of an honest
trader."
"There are honest traders. Of course! Not Sam, though. And, as I was
saying, Sam has the pork, as well as the flour. And he has the sweetness
and the tea. And he has the shoes and the clothes and the patent
medicines. And he has the twine and the salt. And he has almost all the
cash there is at Ragged Run. And he has the schooner that brings in the
supplies and carries away the fish to the St. John's markets.
"He is the only trader at Ragged Run. His storehouses and shop are
jammed with the things that the folk of Ragged Run can't do without and
are able to get nowhere else. So all in all, Skinflint Sam can make
trouble for the folk that make trouble for him. And the folk grumble.
But it is all they have the courage to do. And Skinflint Sam lets them
grumble away. The best cure for grumbling (says he) is to give it free
course. If a man can speak out in meeting (says he) he will work no
mischief in secret.
"'Sea-lawyers, eh?' says Sam. 'Huh! What you fellers want, anyhow? Huh?
You got everything now that any man could expect. Isn't you housed?
Isn't you fed? Isn't you clothed? Isn't you got a parson and a
schoolmaster? I believes you wants a doctor settled in the harbour! A
doctor! An' 'tisn't two years since I got you your schoolmaster! Queer
times we're havin' in the outports these days with every harbour on the
coast wantin' a doctor within hail.
"'You're well enough done by at Ragged Run. None better nowhere. An'
why? Does you ever think o' that? Why? Because I got my trade here. An'
think o' _me_! If ar a one o' you had my brain-labour t' do, you'd soon
find out what harsh labour was like. What with bad debts, an' roguery,
an' failed seasons, an' creditors t' St. John's, I'm hard put to it t'
keep my seven senses. An' small thanks I gets--me that keeps this
harbour alive in famine an' plenty. 'Tis the business I haves that keeps
you. You make trouble for my business, an' you'll come t' starvation!
Now, you mark me!'
"I do not want you to think too harshly of Skinflint Sam. No doubt he
has his good points. Most of us can discover a good point or two in
ourselves and almost everybody else. There are times when Skinflint Sam
will yield an inch. Oh, yes! I've known Skinflint Sam to drop the price
of stick-candy when he had put the price of flour too high for anybody's
comfort."