“I never see’d such a likeness!” exclaimed Mrs Chopper.
“No, indeed,” replied Nancy, who, by agreeing with Mrs Chopper in all she said, and praising Joey, and his likeness to Peter, at last quite came over the old bumboat-woman; and Nancy quitted her boat with the two herrings, the loaf; and the paper of tobacco.
“Shall I put them down, Mrs Chopper?” said Joey.
“Oh, dear,” replied Mrs Chopper, coming to her recollection, “I’m afraid that it’s no use; but put them down, anyhow; they will do for bad debts. Shove off, William, we must go to the large ship now.”
“I do wish that that Nancy was at any other port,” exclaimed Mrs Chopper, as they quitted the vessel’s side; “I do lose so much money by her.”
“Well,” said the waterman, laughing, “you’re not the only one; she can wheedle man or woman, or, as they say, the devil to boot, if she would try.”
During the whole of the day the wherry proceeded from ship to ship, supplying necessaries; in many instances they were paid for in ready money, in others Joey’s capabilities were required, and they were booked down against the customers. At last, about five o’clock in the evening, the beer-barrel being empty, most of the contents of the baskets nearly exhausted, and the wherry loaded with the linen for the wash, biscuits, empty bottles, and various other articles of traffic or exchange, Mrs Chopper ordered William, the waterman, to pull on shore to the landing-place.
As soon as the baskets and other articles had been carried up to the house, Mrs Chopper sent out for the dinner, which was regularly obtained from a cook’s-shop. Joey sat down with her, and when his meal was finished, Mrs Chopper told him he might take a run and stretch his legs a little if he pleased, while she tended to the linen which was to go to the wash. Joey was not sorry to take advantage of this considerate permission, for his legs were quite cramped from sitting so long jammed up between baskets of eggs, red herrings, and the other commodities which had encompassed him.
We must now introduce Mrs Chopper to the reader a little more ceremoniously. She was the widow of a boatswain, who had set her up in the bumboat business with some money he had acquired a short time before his death, and she had continued it ever since on her own account. People said that she was rich, but riches are comparative, and if a person in a seaport town, and in her situation, could show 200 or 300 pounds at her bankers, she was considered rich. If she was rich in nothing else, she certainly was in bad and doubtful debts, having seven or eight books like that which Joey was filling up for her during the whole day, all containing accounts of long standing, and most of which probably would stand for ever; but if the bad debts were many, the profits were in proportion; and what with the long standing debts being occasionally paid, the ready-money she continually received, and the profitable traffic which she made in the way of exchange, etcetera, she appeared to do a thriving business, although it is certain the one-half of her goods were as much given away as were the articles obtained from her in the morning by Nancy.
It is a question whether these books of bad debts were not a source of enjoyment to her, for every night she would take one of the books down, and although she could not read, yet, by having them continually read to her, and knowing the pages so exactly, she could almost repeat every line by heart which the various bills contained; and then there was always a story which she had to tell about each—something relative to the party of whom the transaction reminded her; and subsequently, when Joey was fairly domiciled with her, she would make him hand down one of the books, and talk away from it for hours; they were the ledgers of her reminiscences; the events of a considerable portion of her life were all entered down along with the ’baccy, porter, pipes, and red herrings; a bill for these articles was to her time, place and circumstance; and what with a good memory, and bad debts to assist it, many were the hours which were passed away (and pleasantly enough, too, for one liked to talk, and the other to listen) between Mrs Chopper and our little hero. But we must not anticipate.