The other sailors watch these manœuvres with profound sympathy.
On shore everything is different from what Jack Tar expected. He has had the experience a hundred times, but he always has it again. The crowds do not give companionship. Everything is too much in a hurry. What people talk about does not interest him. He is out of touch with things. Besides, people do not sit and talk except for a little while. Someone always interrupts, or people grow impatient and go away, too much in a hurry. Jack Tar misses the usual hour for intimate conversation, on watch at night. The sea heaves slowly. The stars are bright above. The ship follows her course. Conversation is never interrupted by outsiders, and you can talk as long as the watch lasts.
Jack Tar is ever a mark for thieves. Aboard ship the comradeship of man with man will not tolerate dishonesty. A theft between shipmates is the worst of crimes. No sea chest is ever locked. On land Jack Tar likes bright lights and gaieties, and there, for some reason, a great abundance of swindlers are found to take him in. You go about Sankt Pauli, all sails set. You join a group and find that a horse has fallen down and broken its leg. You hear a groan. You turn around, and somebody says:
"Please, young man, can't you tell me the shortest way to a pawn shop?"
"A pawn shop? I don't know of any."
"That is too bad. I am forced to pawn the last heirloom from my dear mother."
"What is it?"
"A diamond ring."
He takes the ring from his finger, kisses it, and hands it to me. While I look at it, a well-dressed man sidles up and addresses me.
"I beg your pardon for having been curious enough to listen to your conversation. It is luck for you that I happen to be a jeweller. I should not like to see you taken advantage of. Real diamond rings are seldom offered in the streets."