The first mate was an acquaintance and shipmate of Aldrich, by the name of Percival, and, as Captain Rhines told his wife, as great a rascal as the captain. There was some difficulty in getting a crew, but, through the influence of Captain Rhines, who prevailed on Peterson and Danforth Eaton to ship, a crew was mustered. Being all young men from the neighborhood, who knew their duty and were able and willing to do it, they were at first rather amused than otherwise with the consequential airs and bluster of their new captain, in such strong contrast to the manners of Captain Rhines and Captain Murch.
Aldrich seemed very much inclined to quarrel with Peterson, but having a wholesome dread of the strength of the black, restrained himself. By continual abuse, he at length irritated the good-natured negro to such a degree, that he said to him, “Lookee ‘ere, Massa Aldrich; ‘member when you little picaninny, runnin’ ‘bout barefoot; shirt flap he stick out behind; your farder haul staves on a hand-sled, your mudder dig clams; spose you gib me any more your jabber-juice, fling you ober de rail.”
A week passed, when the captain, offended with Danforth Eaton, caught up the end of a rope to flog him. Eaton took up another.
“What use do you intend to make of that rope, Eaton?” asked the captain.
“Just the same use that you make of yours.”
The captain was a school-mate of Eaton, and knew very well the result of a collision with him. But as they approached the land, the deportment of the captain entirely changed. While the vessel was being discharged, he bought soft bread, fresh meat, vegetables, and even fruit, for the men. Seamen are little disposed to remember injuries, and all old scores were now rubbed out.
The cook having gone to the hospital sick, Peterson had taken his place.
One evening, just as the men were about to turn in, the captain sent Peterson ashore with some letters. In the morning, when the crew turned out, he was among the missing. There was a good fire in the fireplace,—stoves were not in use then,—the tea-kettle on, coffee pounded in the mortar, some raw potatoes and onions peeled and sliced, slices of raw pork in the frying-pan, salt beef chopped in a kid,—everything prepared to make lob-scouse.
“Was he not a drinking man?” inquired the captain.