“No difficulty at all, Ben. I’ll go myself.”
“You go, father!”
“I go? Yes; why not? I guess I haven’t forgot the road; I’ve travelled it often enough. I never promised my wife that I’d stay at home, only that I’d try; and I have tried bloody hard, and I can’t. I thought I was worn out, but I find I ain’t. I’m live oak and copper-fastened. I’ve got rested and refitted, and am about as good as new. She can’t sink, that’s a sure case; and I’m sure she can’t spring a leak. She’ll be like the Mary Dun Dover the old salts tell about,—three decks and nary bottom, with a grog-shop on every jewel-block, and a fiddler’s-green on every yard-arm. She’ll be like the Irishman’s boots,—a hole in the toe to let the water in, and another in the heel to let it out; so there will be no pumping.”
It is often the case in our plans that one prominent difficulty prevents for the time all considerations of others, which being removed, the lesser ones present themselves. It was thus with Ben. At first the great difficulty was to find a master; now others presented themselves.
“Can you sell a cargo of lumber for money? Won’t you have to take sugar or molasses? They all do; and then you will have no way to get it home, without costing more than it is worth, for you will have to pay just what freight they have a mind to ask.”
“The Spaniards have got money enough; your lumber is of an extra quality, and if you offer it a little less for cash, there will be no trouble. They will jump at it like a dolphin at a flying-fish. You can afford to sell it a good deal less, and then make your jack.”
“Do you think you can get men to go in such a craft?”
“Go? yes. These boys round here will go to sea on a shingle with me. John Strout will go for mate, to begin with. I tell you, my boy,” slapping him on the back, “you’ve hit the nail on the head this time. Only think what the doubloons will be worth here, where it takes five dollars of our Continental money to buy a mug of flip. If you offered Mr. Welch the gold, he would discount the interest on your debt, and part of the principal, and be glad of the chance. Suppose you should take the gold, and go to the farmers, who haven’t seen any hard money this ten years,—think you wouldn’t get your corn, wheat, and meat cheap!”
Our readers will bear in mind, that in the war of the Revolution the Continental Congress issued bills that became depreciated, so that at the close of the war they were not worth much more than the rebel money in the Secession war; and Captain Rhines’s statement that it took five dollars of it to buy a mug of flip, was literally true.
Some of the soldiers, who were paid off in this currency, were so enraged when they found how worthless it was, that they tore it up and threw it away; but wealthy and far-seeing men bought it of the soldiers for a song, kept it till it was redeemed, and thus became immensely rich.