“I hardly know,” replied Joey; “but I can work, and am willing to work, so I hope I shall not starve.”
With such conversation they continued their way, until the little girl said, “There is my school, so now I must wish you good-bye.”
“Good-bye; I shall not forget you,” replied Joey, “although we may never meet again.” Tears stood in the eyes of our hero, as they reluctantly unclasped their hands and parted.
Joey, once more left alone, now meditated what was the best course for him to pursue. The little Emma’s words, “Not young gentlemen dressed as you are,” reminded him of the remarks and suspicions which must ensue if he did not alter his attire. This he resolved to do immediately; the only idea which had presented itself to his mind was, if possible, to find some means of getting back to Captain O’Donahue, who, he was sure, would receive him, if he satisfied him that it was not safe for him to remain in England; but, then, must he confess to him the truth or not? On this point our hero was not decided, so he put off the solution of it till another opportunity. A slop warehouse now attracted his attention; he looked into the door after having examined the articles outside, and seeing that a sailor-boy was bargaining for some clothes, he went in as if waiting to be served, but in fact, more to ascertain the value of the articles which he wished to purchase. The sailor had cheapened a red frock and pair of blue trousers, and at last obtained them from the Jew for 14 shillings. Joey argued that, as he was much smaller than the lad, he ought to pay less; he asked for the same articles, but the Jew, who had scanned in his own mind the suit of clothes which Joey had on, argued that he ought to pay more. Joey was, however, firm, and about to leave the shop, when the Jew called him back, and after much haggling, Joey obtained the dress for 12 shillings. Having paid for the clothes, Joey begged permission to be permitted to retire to the back shop and put them on, to ascertain if they fitted him, to which the Jew consented. A Jew asks no questions when a penny is to be turned; who Joey was, he cared little; his first object was to sell him the clothes, and having so done he hoped to make another penny by obtaining those of Joey at a moderate price. Perceiving that our hero was putting his own clothes, which he had taken off; into a bundle, the Jew asked him whether he would sell them, and Joey immediately agreed; but the price offered by the Jew was so small, that they were returned to the bundle, and once more was Joey leaving the shop, when the Jew at last offered to return to him the money he had paid for the sailor’s dress, and take his own clothes in exchange, provided that Joey would also exchange his hat for one of tarpaulin, which would be more fitting to his present costume. To this our hero consented, and thus was the bargain concluded without Joey having parted with any of his small stock of ready money. No one who had only seen him dressed as when he quitted the school, would have easily recognised Joey in his new attire. Joey sallied forth from the shop with his bundle under his arm, intending to look out for a breakfast, for he was very hungry. Turning his head right and left to discover some notice of where provender might be obtained, he observed the sailor lad, who had been in the shop when he went in, with his new purchase under his arm, looking very earnestly at some prints in a shop window. Joey ranged up alongside of him, and inquired of him where he could get something to eat; the lad turned round, stared, and, after a little while, cried, “Well, now, you’re the young gentleman chap that came into the shop; I say aren’t you after a rig, eh? Given them leg bail, I’ll swear. No consarn of mine, old fellow. Come along, I’ll show you.”
Joey walked by his new acquaintance a few yards, when the lad turned to him, “I say, did your master whop you much?”
“No,” replied Joey.
“Well, then, that’s more than I can say of mine, for he was at it all day. Hold out your right hand, now your left,” continued he, mimicking; “my eyes! how it used to sting. I don’t think I should mind it much now, continued the lad, turning up his hand; it’s a little harder than it was then. Here’s the shop, come in; if you haven’t no money I’ll give you a breakfast.”
The lad took his seat on one side of a narrow table, Joey on the other, and his new acquaintance called for two pints of tea, a twopenny loaf, and two penny bits of cheese. The loaf was divided between them, and with their portion of cheese and pint of tea each they made a good breakfast. As soon as it was over, the young sailor said to Joey, “Now, what are you going arter; do you mean to ship?”
“I want employment,” replied Joey; “and I don’t much care what it is.”
“Well, then, look you; I ran away from my friends and went to sea, and do you know I’ve only repented of it once, and that’s ever since. Better do anything than go to sea—winter coming on and all; besides, you don’t look strong enough; you don’t know what it is to be coasting in winter time; thrashed up to furl the top-gallant sail when it is so dark you can’t see your way, and so cold that you can’t feel your fingers, holding on for your life, and feeling as if life, after all, was not worth caring for; cold and misery aloft, kicks and thumps below. Don’t you go to sea; if you do, after what I’ve told you, why then you’re a greater fool than you look to be.”