“Ay, lad, and why not ‘Nathan and me’?”
“Why not?” Simon repeated. “Do you allow that my father would take on two boys, when able seamen are tumbling over each other in their eagerness to ship aboard the America?”
“Well, what of that?” and the old man puffed vigorously at his pipe.
“I reckon we would stand little chance against those who are begging Captain Ropes for permission to ship aboard this craft,” I said, and for the hundredth time there came into my heart the thought that, if we might be allowed to join the crew, it was possible we could show ourselves worthy the great honour; but yet I realised how hopeless was such an ambition.
“How old was your father when he first went to sea?” Master Josh asked of Simon.
“Nearly three years younger than I am now.”
“An’ I allow some captain gave him a chance, else he never’d earned the name he’s made.”
“That goes without saying,” Simon replied, as if in bewilderment, for he failed to understand what the old man was driving at.
“Then it stands to reason he should do as good a service for his own son; an’ if George Crowninshield can’t serve his nephew a friendly turn at a time when everything is to be gained, things have come to a pretty pass.”