“You begin to understand how it is done. Now, I want you to listen to me, and I will tell you all your duties. In the morning, you must be up at five o’clock. Your first job will be to black the captain’s boots; then come here and saw wood till breakfast time. After that, you will make up the bunks in the cabin, and then come back here to the wood-pile. When this is gone, I’ll find more for you. Those are your duties. Mark you, now, no more nonsense, or I’ll make you sup sorrow with a big spoon.”
As the mate ceased speaking, he turned and walked aft, leaving Tom lost in wonder. Every hour he spent on board the schooner, developed some new and most unpleasant features in the life of a sailor, upon which he had never made any calculations. Sawing wood was one of them, and blacking the captain’s boots another. Had he, while at home, been told to perform such work, he would have indignantly refused; and, as it was, he had half a mind to arouse the captain and demand his protection. But there was the second mate pacing the deck between him and the companion-way; and the young sailor knew, from what he had already experienced, that, if he left his work, the officer would not hesitate to fulfill his threat of using a rope’s end. Poor Tom was already “supping sorrow with a big spoon.” Besides being homesick, he had seen more than enough of a sailor’s life; and he firmly resolved that, if he again put his foot on shore in his native village, he would stay there.
But why had the mate selected him to perform these very disagreeable duties? There was another boy on board, whose name was Bob White. He was nothing but the son of a sailor, and, according to Tom’s way of thinking, he was the one that ought to do the work. While he was compelled to saw wood like a laborer, Bob was walking up and down the deck, putting on as much style as if he had been the commander of the vessel. Of course he had duties to perform, but they were very light and pleasant compared with those imposed upon Tom; and the latter resolved that, as soon as he could see the captain, he would have matters arranged differently.
“Come, come, bear a hand; no skulking here!” came the voice of the second mate, abruptly terminating his meditations; and Tom fearing the rope’s end, again took up the saw and went to work. Observing that the officer kept close watch of all his movements, the young sailor applied himself steadily to his task, and, as he saw his pile of wood growing larger by degrees, he began to hope that the cook would have fuel enough to last two or three days. But when the middle of the afternoon came, the negro began the work of cooking supper; and when he had carried three armfuls into the galley, Tom’s pile of wood was all gone.
“Why, boy!” exclaimed the cook “what ’count be you on board this vessel? Go back from dar!” Pushing Tom away, he seized the saw, and, in a few moments, had fuel enough to finish cooking the supper.
This was another severe blow. Even the negro cook scolded him; and, for the first time in his life, Tom made to himself what he considered to be a most humiliating confession; namely, that the position a person occupies among his fellow-men, depends not upon his father’s wealth or influence, but upon his own abilities. The sailors all knew that Tom was the son of the richest man in Newport, but that had no weight with them. In their estimation, he was nothing but a “surly young land-lubber,” and of no possible use in the world. Tom, we repeat, realized the position in which he was placed, and one would suppose that he would have seen the necessity of submitting to his fate with as good a grace as he could command, and of improving every opportunity that was offered him to learn something about his duties. But, unfortunately for him, this was very far from his thoughts. The unexpected obstacles that had suddenly arisen in his path, he regarded as altogether too great to be overcome, and he deliberately resolved that he would do absolutely nothing except upon compulsion. He was continually saying to himself: “O, I can’t be a sailor; I know I can’t!” and that was the same as though he had said “I sha’n’t try.”
CHAPTER V.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
