SURLY JOE.
"You wonder why I am called Surly Joe, sir? No, as you say, I hope I don't deserve the title now; but I did once, and a name like that sticks to a man for life. Well, sir, the fish are not biting at present, and I don't mind if I tell you how I got it."
The speaker was a boatman, a man some fifty years old, broad and weather-beaten; he had but one arm. I had been spending a month's well-earned holiday at Scarborough, and had been making the most of it, sailing or fishing every day. Upon my first arrival I had gone out with the one-armed boatman, and as he was a cheery companion, and his boat, the Grateful Mary, was the best and fastest on the strand, I had stuck to him throughout. The boatmen at our watering-places soon learn when a visitor fixes upon a particular boat, and cease to importune him with offers of a sail; consequently it became an understood thing after a day or two that I was private property, and as soon as I was seen making my way across the wet, soppy sand, which is the one drawback to the pleasure of Scarborough, a shout would at once be raised for Surly Joe. The name seemed a singularly inappropriate one; but it was not until the very day before I was returning to town that I made any remark on the subject. By this time we had become great allies; for what with a bathe in the morning early, a sail before lunch, and a fishing expedition afterwards, I had almost lived on board the Grateful Mary. The day had been too clear and bright for fishing; the curly-headed, barefooted boy who assisted Joe had grown tired of watching us catch nothing, and had fallen asleep in the bow of the boat; and the motion, as the boat rose and fell gently on the swell, was so eminently provocative of sleep that I had nodded once or twice as I sat with my eyes fixed on my line. Then the happy idea had occurred to me to remark that I wondered why my companion was called by a nickname which seemed so singularly inappropriate. Joe's offer to tell me how he obtained it woke me at once. I refilled my pipe,—an invariable custom, I observe, with smokers when they are sitting down to listen to a story,—passed my pouch to Joe, who followed my example; and when we had "lighted up" Joe began:
"Well, sir, it's about twelve years ago. I was a strong, active chap then—not that I aint strong now, for I can shove a boat over the sandbar with any man on the shore—but I aint as active as I were. I warn't called Surly Joe then, and I had my two arms like other men. My nickname then was Curly; 'cause, you see, my hair won't lay straight on my head, not when it gets as wet as seaweed. I owned my own boat, and the boys that worked with me warn't strangers, like Dick there, but they were my own flesh and blood. I was mighty proud of the two boys: fine straight tough-built lads was they, and as good-plucked uns as any on the shore. I had lost their mother ten years, maybe, before that, and I never thought of giving them another. One of 'em was about twelve, just the size of Dick there; the other was a year older. Full of tricks and mischief they was, but good boys, sir, and could handle the boat nigh as well as I could. There was one thing they couldn't do, sir—they couldn't swim. I used to tell 'em they ought to learn; but there, you see, I can't swim myself, and out of all the men and boys on this shore I don't suppose one in twenty on 'em can swim. Rum, aint it, sir? All their lives in the water or on the water, seeing all these visitors as comes here either swimming or learning to swim, and yet they won't try. They talks about instinks; I don't believe in instinks, else everybody who's got to pass his life on the water would learn to swim, instead of being just the boys as never does learn. That year, sir, I was doing well. There was a gentleman and his wife and darter used to use my boat regular; morning and afternoon they'd go out for a sail whenever it warn't too rough for the boat to put out. I don't think the old gentleman and lady cared so much for it; but they was just wrapped up in the girl, who was a pale, quiet sort o' girl, who had come down to the sea for her health. She was wonderful fond of the sea, and a deal o' good it did her; she warn't like the same creature after she had been here two months.
"It was a roughish sort of afternoon, with squalls from the east, but not too rough to go out: they was to go out at four o'clock, and they came down punctual; but the gentleman says, when he gets down:
"'We have just got a telegram, Joe, to say as a friend is coming down by the five-o'clock train, and we must be at the station to meet her, she being an invalid; but I don't want Mary to lose her sail, so will trust her with you.'
"'You'll take great care of her, Joe, and bring her back safe,' the mother says, half laughing like; but I could see she were a little anxious about lettin' her go alone, which had never happened before.
"'I'll take care of her, ma'am,' I says; 'you may take your oath I'll bring her back if I comes back myself.'