CHAPTER VI.
TOM GOES INTO BUSINESS.
NEVER before had Tom’s home appeared so pleasant or inviting. His short experience on ship-board had fully convinced him that there were much worse places in the world, and that his grand idea of being his “own master” was not exactly what he had imagined it to be. In regard to the future, he had not determined upon any course of action. He had often heard his father say that he “couldn’t have an idler about his house,” and Tom knew that he must do one of two things—either attend school or go to work—a most disagreeable alternative. In spite of all he could do to prevent it, the warning of the second mate, that he would be a “foremast hand the longest day he lived,” would occasionally ring in his ears; and once Tom almost came to the sensible conclusion that, in order to prevent such a calamity, he ought to go to school and try hard to make up his deficiencies. But this resolution, like all the good ones Tom ever made, was short lived. There were too many difficulties in his way. He would have arithmetic and geography lessons to learn, and would be obliged to remain a close prisoner six long hours during each day. So this resolution was reconsidered, and Tom settled down, as he had done a hundred times before, in the hope that something would soon “turn up,” and that he would then be able to see his way clearly.
That evening, after supper, in obedience to his father’s request, Tom proceeded to give an account of all that had transpired on board the Savannah during the voyage. He had a very retentive memory, if he chose to exert it, and not even the smallest incident was omitted. He told how he had been compelled to act the part of a servant in sawing wood, blacking the captain’s boots, and making the beds; how he had been thrust into the forecastle, when he had expected to sleep in the cabin and mess with the officers; how all the sailors had tormented him; and how the second mate had frequently threatened to beat him with a rope’s end; and when he concluded, he settled back in his chair, confident that he had made out a very black case against the officers and crew of the Savannah, and fully expecting to hear his father announce his intention of discharging them, one and all. Mr. Newcombe sat for several minutes, looking down at the carpet, as if revolving the subject in his mind, and finally inquired:
“Did the mate ever use a rope’s end on you?”
“No, sir,” answered Tom; and at that moment he almost wished the officer had punished him, in order to make the evidence against him complete.
“Well,” said Mr. Newcombe, “that mate isn’t half the man I thought he was.”
“He’s no gentleman, or he would not have treated me that way,” chimed in Tom, who thought his father was debating upon the punishment the mate ought to receive.