In other days, about the head of this old wharf was to be found a maze5 of cheap boarding houses, restaurants and saloons devoted6 to the entertainment of sailors. There were to be found, too, other resorts known as “coffee houses”—institutions adapted from West Indian life, which have now almost wholly disappeared. In these, might be seen by night motley collections of brown old tars7 sipping8 curacao and café noir to the strident chatter9 of captive parrots and cockatoos.
At the present time, one only of these old coffee houses remains10. In this, some of the maritime11 flavor of former days is retained in the[10] person of an old Creole who conducts the resort. But, nowadays, the creole’s most profitable trade is from busy merchants who seek his cabaret at noon for a cup of old fashioned coffee. The sailors who once congregated12 in his shop have almost wholly passed away.
Some of the picturesqueness14 of the creole coffee house remains, however, and it was this that drew Bob Balfour to the place just after dark on a fine evening in mid-February. Robert, or Bob Balfour, was the only child of a well-to-do manufacturer in Chicago. Between sixteen and seventeen years of age, it had been discovered suddenly that the boy’s health was failing. On the order of a physician Bob had gone south with his mother to await the return of pleasant weather in the north.
“You’ll be all right in a short time,” the family doctor explained reassuringly15, “if you live in the open air and sunshine and get plenty of sea breeze.” Here he paused and shook his head ominously16. “But you must stay out of doors and give up books,” he added sweeping17 his hand towards Bob’s crammed18 bookcase.
“That’s it,” exclaimed Bob’s father; “this reading is all right, but the boy has had too much of it. He reads everything. He’s got[11] books that I’d never think of buying—regular histories and scientific things.”
“All right,” laughed romantic-minded Bob, “I’ll promise. No more books for me until further orders. But,” he added, to himself, “I guess I won’t need any books when I get down there where Spanish buccaneers used to prowl around and where the last American pirates did business.”
On the second day after Mrs. Balfour and Bob reached the ancient Spanish-founded city, they secured lodging19 just beyond the business center of the town. Having comfortably established themselves, the evening meal was scarcely over before Bob cajoled his mother into permitting him to take a stroll.
Bob and his mother had planned to begin their sight-seeing the following day. Their first expedition was to be by launch from Long Wharf down the bay to the navy yard and Fort Barancas. For that reason, he hastened at once toward the wharf, determined20 to secure all the information he could concerning the launch and the hour of its departure.
The orders of the Balfour family physician prohibiting the use of books had not been so imperative21 as to preclude22 Bob reading a “Florida[12] Guide Book”. Therefore, as he approached the shipping end of the city’s main street, his ears were open and his eyes were alert for traces of the picturesque13 past.
Although he had just left the Plaza23 Ferdinand VII, with its illuminated24 fountain casting its scintillating25 rays on beds of narcissus, hydrangea and roses, it would not have struck Bob wholly out of place to have stepped at once into an old sailor rendezvous26 redolent of pitch and bilge water. On the contrary, he found, in the main, nothing but modern lunch counters, commonplace pool rooms and beer saloons.
Long Wharf itself was dark and the excursion boat piers27 were deserted28. Deciding that the vicinity was no place for a boy of his age, particularly a stranger, Bob turned and retraced29 his footsteps on the opposite side of the street. Within two blocks, he noticed the creole coffee house.
There were neither door nor window screens, and, in spite of a modern lunch counter on one side of the room, Bob saw, on the opposite wall, several old fashioned prints of sailing vessels. Beneath these were several tables. At one of them, with a steaming cup before him, sat a man gazing toward the door. What instantly fixed30[13] Bob’s eye was that, for the first time in his life, he was looking at a genuine old salt-water sailor.
At the lunch counter, were two boys, but before the curious Bob could give them a second glance, he was surprised to see the man straighten in his chair and, with the slow motion of a weather beaten forefinger31, beckon32 to him.
“I mean ye, lad. Come in,” said the sailor, throwing his head back by way of invitation. It wasn’t a bad face the sailor had. An old yachting cap lay on the table before him. But what had been immediate33 notification to Bob that the man was a sailor was the fact that he wore small gold earrings34, and that, beneath his loosened shirt, were the tattooed35 outlines of a ship.
The room was well lighted, and, although Bob was conscious that the two boys were near by, the picturesque “old sea dog” (for such, the romantic Bob at once dubbed36 the stranger in his always active imagination) was irresistible37. The boy stepped into the coffee house and approached the sailor’s table.
“How do you do?” began Bob.
“Fair an’ clear,” was the response, in a foreign accent. “Tourist, eh?”
“I’m here for the winter,” answered Bob, “if that’s what you mean. I suppose you’re a sailor.”
“Si, senor.” Then the man shrugged38 his shoulders. “I have been sailor. Now I am fisher—Joe Romano. My schooner39 she is de bes’ on de bay. Yo’ fadder is wis you?”
There seemed no reason why Bob should refuse to answer the fisherman’s question, so he explained how he had come to be in Pensacola. The man seemed disappointed, but he took from his pocket a soiled card and handed it to the lad. It read:
CAPTAIN JOSEPH ROMANO
Schooner Three Sisters
Conducts Parties for Sea
Trout40, Red Fish, Spanish Mackerel and Pompano
Tarpon Guaranteed in Season
Rates Reasonable
“If yo’ fadder shall come,” said the sailor, “an’ he go for de fine fish, yo’ shall bring him to Captain Joe. I take him to de bes’ fish in Santa Rosa Soun’.”
Bob’s father cared no more about fishing than he did about history, but the boy had an idea. Why couldn’t he and his mother try their luck[15] in a day’s outing with the tattooed, gold-earringed sailor?
“My father won’t be here,” answered Bob, “and I’m not much of a fisherman; but my mother and I may go with you some day. What are your rates?”
“You go wis yo’ mama, alone?” exclaimed Captain Joe, with sudden animation41. “I take you in ze fine Three Sisters, cook yo’ fish dinner, stay all yo’ like, ten dollars.”
“Where can I see you in the morning?” asked Bob with enthusiasm.
“At ze wharf,” responded Captain Joe. “Any one tell yo’ where to find ze Three Sisters.”
“I’m much obliged,” responded Bob. “I may bring my mother to see you in the morning.”
His face aglow42, Bob bid Captain Joe good night, and hurried from the place. Already framing in his mind the allurements43 of the cruise, he turned into the street, head down.
“Hello there, Kid,” sounded suddenly, as he passed out of the Coffee House. Surprised, Bob paused. Standing44 on the edge of the sidewalk were two boys—about his own age. Undoubtedly45 they were the ones he had just seen in the[16] Coffee House. Each carried under his arm a loaf of bread wrapped in paper.
“Hello yourself,” responded Bob. Then, one quick glance establishing the free masonry46 that exists between all boys of that age, he added: “What’s on your minds?”
Both boys were plainly dressed. One, wearing a soft hat with a colored ribbon band, low tan shoes (needing polishing) and a “snappy” coat, suggested northern styles. The other, not so athletic47, wore a cap, a coat that was anything but “snappy,” newly polished dark shoes, and a small, old fashioned “made-up” blue necktie.
“You ah on ouah mind,” answered the latter boy, with a pronounced southern accent.
“And we’re waitin’ to hand you a piece o’ dope,” added his companion.
“We all’s been a watchin’ yo’ an’ Cap’en Joe,” continued the boy of the cap. “An’ we ah a reckonin’ you all’s a strangah.”
“I sure am,” answered Bob. “But what’s the matter with Captain Joe?”
“Not a thing in the world,” said the soft hat boy. “He’s out o’ sight. But, bein’ a tender foot, you ain’t in right. We’re waitin’ to put you wise.”
Bob laughed. The two boys were smiling and evidently amused.
“I reckon,” continued the boy with the southern tone, “that we all ain’t no bus’ness a overhearin’ what yo’ told Captain Joe, but we was waitin’ fo’ ouah crab48 loaves, an’ we kain’t hep it.”
As his smile broadened, he lifted the loaf under his arm to Bob’s nose. From its interior came a most appetizing odor of something newly fried.
“What’s that?” asked Bob, his mouth watering.
“That?” repeated the other boy, also holding up his package. “Them’s soft shell crabs—fried. They jist melt in yer mouth. Want some?”
Bob’s smile was answer enough. The other boys looked at each other as if to say, “It’s all right, he’ll do.” Then the boy in the cap said:
“We all heard yo’ tell Cap’en Joe about yo’sef. My name’s Tom Allen. I live hyah in Pensacola. This is Harry49 Burton. Yo’ can call him Hal right away, so he’ll know whom youah addressin’. He lives in Cincinnati, but he comes hyah each wintah. We jes’ been to the Coffee House a securin’ some refreshments50.[18] An’ we ah now on ouah way to dispose of them.”
“You got to mix it sometime,” interrupted Hal. “You got to know us kids.”
“Well,” said Bob, a little embarrassed, but shaking the hand of each boy, “my name’s Balfour. I’m here for my health—”
“So’m I,” laughed Hal. “But I go to school just the same. Pretty tough. You goin’ to school?”
“No,” answered Bob. “I’ve got to stay outdoors and rough it. I’m goin’ fishin’ with Captain Joe to-morrow.”
“Rot!” snorted Hal. “Ten dollars to a dago for a day’s fishin’? Not on your tintype. Stick to us, and we’ll give you all the fishin’ and the roughin’ it you want. And it won’t cost you nothin’—much.”
“What do you mean?” asked Bob, eagerly. “Say, you fellows are all right, and I’m mighty51 glad to know you; but ain’t it pretty quick work pickin’ a kid up on the street and offerin’ to chum with him right off the reel?”
Tom Allen reached out his arm and dropped it on Bob’s shoulders.
“Yo’ all’s comin’ aroun’ to my house now, an’[19] meet Mac. We’ll have ouah spread—Mac’s gone fo’ the pralines—”
“Here’s the idea,” broke in talkative Hal. “The minute we laid eyes on you, we cottoned to you. If Mac takes to you like we do and you don’t kick over the traces, we’re goin’ to ask you to join our club.”
“If Mac is your chum,” answered Bob, laughing, “I won’t kick. But I don’t understand—”
“You like boatin’ an’ fishin’, or you wouldn’t be willin’ to cough up ten a day to old Joe. All right. We’re all dead stuck on boatin’ an’ fishin’ an’ shootin’. An’ we’re fixed to do ’em all,” continued Hal.
Drawn52 along, not unwillingly53, by his two companions, Bob was led down the first street to the right and, in the second block, the trio paused before a white picket54 fence in which was a tall gate. As this swung open, and Bob found himself on a shell path between walls of scented55 flowers, he saw ahead, a low, one-story house. On its little gallery opened four latticed windows.
“Is this your home?” whispered Bob, thrilled with the charm of the place, and turning to Tom.
“Paht o’ the time,” responded the southern boy. “Come in.”
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1
shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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oyster
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| n.牡蛎；沉默寡言的人 | |
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maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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tars
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| 焦油，沥青，柏油( tar的名词复数 ) | |
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8
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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10
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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maritime
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| adj.海的，海事的，航海的，近海的，沿海的 | |
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12
congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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14
picturesqueness
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15
reassuringly
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| ad.安心，可靠 | |
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ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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crammed
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| adj.塞满的，挤满的；大口地吃；快速贪婪地吃v.把…塞满；填入；临时抱佛脚( cram的过去式) | |
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19
lodging
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| n.寄宿，住所；(大学生的)校外宿舍 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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22
preclude
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| vt.阻止，排除，防止；妨碍 | |
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plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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24
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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scintillating
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| adj．才气横溢的,闪闪发光的; 闪烁的 | |
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26
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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27
piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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29
retraced
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| v.折回( retrace的过去式和过去分词 )；回忆；回顾；追溯 | |
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30
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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31
forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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32
beckon
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| v.(以点头或打手势)向...示意，召唤 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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34
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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35
tattooed
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| v.刺青，文身( tattoo的过去式和过去分词 )；连续有节奏地敲击；作连续有节奏的敲击 | |
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36
dubbed
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| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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37
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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38
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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39
schooner
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| n.纵帆船 | |
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40
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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41
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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42
aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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43
allurements
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| n.诱惑( allurement的名词复数 )；吸引；诱惑物；有诱惑力的事物 | |
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44
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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45
undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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46
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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47
athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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48
crab
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| n.螃蟹，偏航，脾气乖戾的人，酸苹果；vi.捕蟹，偏航，发牢骚；vt.使偏航，发脾气 | |
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49
harry
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| vt.掠夺，蹂躏，使苦恼 | |
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50
refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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51
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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52
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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53
unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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54
picket
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| n.纠察队；警戒哨；v.设置纠察线；布置警卫 | |
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55
scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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