It was such a day at sea as restores sick persons to balmy health, and causes healthy persons to forget that they are floating on a few boards over an almost bottomless abyss cut off from all human aid. The day passed in rejoicing, in singing and dancing, and it was nigh midnight before the last of the travellers betook themselves to rest, leaving the deck to the sailors of the watch.
All was still, when a dark figure cautiously and noiselessly emerged from the steerage; it carried something under its arms and in its hands, approached the bulwarks and threw it over; it fell on the water with a splash; all was silent once more, and the figure disappeared through the hatchway.
Two sailors sitting in the bows had been spectators of this proceeding, and endeavoured to make out what it was which the unknown person had confided to the deep; but it was too dark, and they leaned back into their former attitudes of repose to resume the yarn which one of them had been spinning, when again the same figure appeared, and again, cast something, whatever it might be, overboard.
"I say, Jack," whispered one of them to the other, "what can it be that yon fellow is throwing overboard? it splashes so in the water; let us see what it is."
"Oh, never mind," answered his messmate; "whatever it may be, it's nothing belonging to us, for he fetched it out of the steerage; but I think I see something floating on the water."
"By Jove, and so do I," replied the other; "come along; I should like to know what it can be."
The two sailors advanced, but the figure had already withdrawn itself; they could, however, distinctly make out some light objects upon the smooth sea, and were still speculating upon what it could be, when the mysterious one re-appeared for the third time, loaded as before; he paused a moment on perceiving the two sailors, but his irresolution did not last long, for stepping gently forward, he looked cautiously round for a moment, and then laughingly showed the curious spectators several pairs of wooden shoes, which he launched into the Atlantic, like the rest.
"Well," said he, when the last consignment had been duly forwarded, "we're rid of them, anyhow, but don't say a word, for God's sake," he continued, seizing by the arms the two sailors, who were just about to roar out. "Hush! I beg of you. If those bumpkins were to know that it is I who played them this trick, they would be the death of me. But one of them trod so heavily on my poor corns the other day with his wooden machines, that I vowed to do it; but not a word—you promise that?"
The sailors laughingly gave their word not to betray the least hint, and the little mischievous journeyman tailor, who, as a South German, had a native hatred to the Low Germans, slipped down unobserved to his rest, perfectly satisfied.
Who shall describe the noise, the abuse, and the threats on the one side, or the rejoicing on the other, the following morning, when the Oldenburghers, wanting to get up to breakfast, were unable to find their wooden shoes in their accustomed places, but in lieu thereof discovered them floating round the vessel at a distance of some hundred yards.