On a certain breezy morning in October—not many years ago—a wilderness1 of foam2 rioted wildly over those dangerous sands which lie off the port of Yarmouth, where the Evening Star, fishing-smack3, was getting ready for sea.
In one of the narrow lanes or “Rows” peculiar4 to that town, the skipper of the smack stood at his own door, grumbling5. He was a broad burly man, a little past the prime of life, but prematurely6 aged7 by hard work and hard living.
“He’s always out o’ the way when he’s wanted, an’ always in the way when he’s not wanted,” said the skipper angrily to his wife, of whom he was at the moment taking, as one of his mates remarked, a tender farewell.
“Don’t be hard on him, David,” pleaded the wife, tearfully, as she looked up in her husband’s face.
“He’s only a bit thoughtless; and I shouldn’t wonder if he was already down at the smack.”
“If he’s not,” returned the fisherman with a frown, as he clenched9 his huge right hand—and a hard and horny hand it was, from constant grappling with ropes, oars10, hand-spikes, and the like—“if he’s not, I’ll—”
He stopped abruptly11, as he looked down at his wife’s eyes, and the frown faded. No wonder, for that wife’s eyes were soft and gentle, and her face was fair and very attractive as well as refined in expression, though not particularly pretty.
“Well, old girl, come, I won’t be hard on ’im. Now I’m off,—good-day.” And with that the fisherman stooped to kiss his wife, who returned the salute13 with interest. At the same time she thrust a packet into his hand.
“What’s this, Nell?”
“A Testament14, David—from me. It will do your soul good if you will read it. And the tract12 wrapped round it is from a lady.”
The frown returned to the man’s face as he growled— “What lady?”
“The lady with the curious name, who was down here last summer for sea-bathing; don’t you remember Miss Ruth Dotropy? It is a temperance tract.”
David Bright made a motion as though he were about to fling the parcel away, but he thought better of it, and thrust it into the capacious pocket of his rough coat. The brow cleared again as he left his wife, who called after him, “Don’t be hard on Billy, David; remember he’s our only one—and he’s not bad, just a little thoughtless.”
“Never fear, Nell, I’ll make a man of him.”
Lighting15 a large pipe as he spoke16, the skipper of the Evening Star nodded farewell, and sauntered away.
In another of the narrow lanes of Yarmouth another fisherman stood at his own door, also taking leave of his wife. This man was the mate—just engaged—of David Bright’s vessel17, and very different in some respects from the skipper, being tall, handsome, fresh and young—not more than twenty-four—as well as powerful of build. His wife, a good-looking young woman, with their first-born in her arms, had bidden him good-bye.
We will not trouble the reader with more of their parting conversation than the last few words.
“Now, Maggie, dear, whatever you do, take care o’ that blessed babby.”
“Trust me for that, Joe,” said Maggie, imprinting19 a kiss of considerable violence and fervour on the said baby, which gazed at its mother—as it gazed at everything—in blank amazement20.
“An’ don’t forget to see Miss Ruth, if you can, or send a message to her, about that matter.”
“I’ll not forget, Joe.”
The mate of the Evening Star bestowed21 a parting kiss of extreme gentleness on the wondering infant, and hastened away.
He had not proceeded far when he encountered a creature which filled his heart with laughter. Indeed Joe Davidson’s heart was easily filled with emotions of every kind, for he was an unusually sympathetic fellow, and rather fond of a joke.
The creature referred to was a small boy of thirteen years of age or thereabouts, with a pretty little face, a Grecian little nose, a rose-bud of a mouth, curly fair hair, bright blue eyes, and a light handsome frame, which, however, was a smart, active, and wiry frame. He was made to look as large and solid as possible by means of the rough costume of a fisherman, and there was a bold look in the blue eyes which told of a strong will. What amused Joe Davidson most, however, was the tremendous swagger in the creature’s gait and the imperturbable22 gravity with which he smoked a cigar! The little fellow was so deeply absorbed in thought as he passed the mate that he did not raise his eyes from the ground. An irresistible23 impulse seized on Joe. He stooped, and gently plucked the cigar from the boy’s mouth.
Instantly the creature doubled his little fists, and, without taking the trouble to look so high as his adversary’s face, rushed at his legs, which he began to kick and pommel furiously.
As the legs were cased in heavy sea-boots he failed to make any impression on them, and, after a few moments of exhausting effort, he stepped back so as to get a full look at his foe24.
“What d’ee mean by that, Joe Davidson, you fathom25 of impudence26?” he demanded, with flushed face and flashing eyes.
“Only that I wants a light,” answered the mate, pulling out his pipe, and applying the cigar to it.
“Humph!” returned the boy, mollified, and at the same time tickled27, by the obvious pretence28; “you might have axed leave first, I think.”
“So I might. I ax parding now,” returned Joe, handing back the cigar; “good-day, Billy.”
The little boy, gazed after the fisherman in speechless admiration29, for the cool quiet manner in which the thing had been done had, as he said, taken the wind completely out of his sails, and prevented his usually ready reply.
Replacing the cigar in the rose-bud, he went puffing30 along till he reached the house of David Bright, which he entered.
“Your father’s gone, Billy,” said Mrs Bright. “Haste ye after him, else you’ll catch it. Oh! do give up smokin’, dear boy. Good-bye. God keep you, my darling.”
She caught the little fellow in a hasty embrace.
“Hold on, mother, you’ll bust31 me!” cried Billy, returning the embrace, however, with affectionate vigour32. “An’ if I’m late, daddy will sail without me. Let go!”
He shouted the last words as if the reference had been to the anchor of the Evening Star. His mother laughed as she released him, and he ran down to the quay33 with none of his late dignity remaining. He knew his father’s temper well, and was fearful of being left behind.
He was just in time. The little smack was almost under weigh as he tumbled, rather than jumped, on board. Ere long she was out beyond the breakers that marked the shoals, and running to the eastward34 under a stiff breeze.
This was little Billy’s first trip to sea in his father’s fishing-smack, and he went not as a passenger but as a “hand.” It is probable that there never sailed out of Yarmouth a lad who was prouder of his position than little Billy of the Evening Star. He was rigged from top to toe in a brand-new suit of what we may style nautical35 garments. His thin little body was made to appear of twice its natural bulk by a broad-shouldered pilot-cloth coat, under which was a thick guernsey. He was almost extinguished by a large yellow sou’-wester, and all but swallowed up by a pair of sea-boots that reached to his hips36. These boots, indeed, seemed so capacious as to induce the belief that if he did not take care the part of his body that still remained outside of them might fall inside and disappear.
Altogether—what between pride of position, vanity in regard to the new suit, glee at being fairly at sea and doing for himself, and a certain humorous perception that he was ridiculously small—little Billy presented a very remarkable37 appearance as he stood that day on the deck of his father’s vessel, with his little legs straddling wide apart, after the fashion of nautical men, and his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his sea-going coat.
For some time he was so engrossed38 with the novelty of his situation, and the roll of the crested39 waves, that his eyes did not rise much higher than the legs of his comparatively gigantic associates; but when curiosity at last prompted him to scan their faces, great was his surprise to observe among them Joe Davidson, the young man who had plucked the cigar from his lips in Yarmouth.
“What! are you one o’ the hands, Joe?” he asked, going towards the man with an abortive40 attempt to walk steadily41 on the pitching deck.
“Ay, lad, I’m your father’s mate,” replied Joe. “But surely you are not goin’ as a hand?”
“That’s just what I am,” returned Billy, with a look of dignity which was somewhat marred42 by a heavy lurch43 causing him to stagger. “I’m part owner, d’ee see, an’ ready to take command when the old man retires, so you’d better mind your helm, young man, an’ steer44 clear of impudence in future, if you don’t want to lead the life of a dog aboard of this here smack.”
“I’ll try, sir,” said Joe Davidson, touching45 his forelock, while a humorous twinkle lit up his bright eyes.
“Hallo! Billy!” shouted the skipper, who was steering47; “come here, boy. You didn’t come aboard to idle, you know; I’ve let you have a good look at the sea all for nothin’. It’s time now that you went to work to larn your duties. Zulu!”
The last word caused a woolly head to protrude48 from the after hatchway, revealing a youth about twice the size of Billy. Having some drops of black blood in him this lad had been styled Zulu—and, being a handy fellow, had been made cook.
“Here, take this boy below,” said the skipper, “and teach him something—anything you like, so long as you keep him at work. No idlers allowed on board, you know.”
“Yes, sar,” said Zulu.
Billy was delighted to obey. He was naturally a smart, active fellow, and not only willing, but proud, to submit to discipline. He descended49 a short ladder into the little cabin with which he had become acquainted, as a visitor, when the smack was in port on former occasions. With Zulu he was also acquainted, that youth having been for some time in his father’s service.
“Kin8 you do cookin’?” asked Zulu with a grin that revealed an unusually large cavern50 full of glistening51 teeth, mingled52 with more than an average allowance of tongue and gums.
“Oh! I say,” remonstrated53 Billy, “it’s growed bigger than ever!”
Zulu expanded his mouth to its utmost, and shut his eyes in enjoyment54 of the complimentary55 joke.
“Oh course it hab,” he said on recovering; “I’s ’bliged to eat so much at sea dat de mout gits wider ebery trip. Dat leetle hole what you’ve got in your face ’ll git so big as mine fore46 long, Billy. Den18 you be like some ob de leetle fishes we catch—all mout and no body worth mentioning. But you no tell me yit: Kin you do cookin’?”
“Oh yes, I can manage a Yarmouth bloater,” replied Billy.
“But,” said Zulu, “kin you cook a ’tater widout makin’ him’s outside all of a mush, an’ him’s inside same so as a stone?”
Instead of answering, Billy sat down on the settle which ran round the cabin and looked up at his dark friend very solemnly.
“Hallo!” exclaimed Zulu.
“There—there’s something wrong wi’ me,” said Billy, with a faint attempt to smile as he became rather pale.
Seeing this, his friend quietly put a bucket beside him.
“I say, Zulu,” observed the poor boy with a desperate attempt at pleasantry, “I wonder what’s up.”
“Des nuffin’ up yit but he won’t be long,” replied the young cook with a look full of sympathy.
It would be unjust to our little hero to proceed further. This being, as we have said, his first trip to sea, he naturally found himself, after an hour or two, stretched out in one of the bunks56 which surrounded the little cabin. There he was permitted to lie and think longingly57 of his mother, surrounded by dense58 tobacco smoke, hot vapours, and greasy59 fumes60, until he blushed to find himself wishing, with all his heart, that he had never left home!
There we will leave him to meditate61 and form useless resolves, which he never carried out, while we introduce to the reader some of the other actors in our tale.
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1
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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tract
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| n.传单，小册子，大片(土地或森林) | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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15
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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imprinting
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| n.胚教，铭记（动物生命早期即起作用的一种学习机能）；印记 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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imperturbable
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| adj.镇静的 | |
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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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foe
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| n.敌人，仇敌 | |
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fathom
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| v.领悟，彻底了解 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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tickled
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| （使）发痒( tickle的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）愉快，逗乐 | |
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pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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30
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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quay
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| n.码头，靠岸处 | |
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eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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nautical
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| adj.海上的，航海的，船员的 | |
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hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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crested
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| adj.有顶饰的，有纹章的，有冠毛的v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的过去式和过去分词 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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marred
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| adj. 被损毁, 污损的 | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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45
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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46
fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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48
protrude
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| v.使突出，伸出，突出 | |
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49
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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50
cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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51
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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52
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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53
remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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54
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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55
complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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56
bunks
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| n.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的名词复数 )；空话，废话v.（车、船等倚壁而设的）铺位( bunk的第三人称单数 )；空话，废话 | |
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57
longingly
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| adv. 渴望地 热望地 | |
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58
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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60
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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meditate
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| v.想，考虑，（尤指宗教上的）沉思，冥想 | |
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