I was generally on deck all the day; and whenever I saw anything useful that I could do, it was done.
In this way, both watches had the aid of my valuable services—which, however, were not always sufficiently appreciated to prevent a few sharp words being applied to me. But a boy aboard of a ship soon learns to take no notice of such trifles.
I was ordered to mess with the sailmaker, who—as I afterwards learnt—was directed by the captain to look well after me.
On our arrival in Liverpool, the ship was docked, and the crew went ashore, with the exception of two men—both strangers to me—who with myself were left on board.
One of the men had something to do with the Custom House; and tried hard to induce me to go ashore, along with the rest of the crew. But the ship being my only home, I was not willing to leave her; and I resisted all the inducements held out by the Custom House officer to that effect. The captain had gone away from the ship, after seeing her safe into port; but I would not leave the vessel lest I should never meet him again: for something told me he was my truest friend.
The next day he came on board again; and seemed rather surprised at finding me there.
“Ah! little Rolling Stone,” said he, “I’ve been inquiring for you; and am pleased to see you have not gone ashore. What do you intend to do with yourself?”
“Stay here,” I answered, “until the ship sails again.”
“No, you can’t stop here,” said the captain. “You must come ashore, and live somewhere—until the ship is made ready for sea.”
He continued to talk with me for half-an-hour; and obtained from me a full account of the circumstances under which I had left my home.