I hesitated a moment; but seeing that it was the captain’s representative who put the question, I thought there could be no harm in frankly declaring my intentions. I replied—“I wish to be a sailor!”
If the men had laughed loud before, they now laughed louder. In fact there was a regular yell, in which the mate himself joined as heartily as any of them.
Amidst the peals of laughter, my ears were greeted with a variety of expressions that quite humiliated me.
“Look yonder, Bill!” cried one, addressing a comrade who was at some distance. “Look at the wee chap as wants to be a sailor. My eyes! You little tuppence worth o’ ha’pence, you ain’t big enough for a belayin’ pin! A see-a-lor! My eyes!”
“Does your mother know yer out?” inquired a second.
“No, that she don’t,” said a third, making reply for me; “nor his father, neyther. I’ll warrant, now, the chap has run away from home. Have you gi’n ’em the slip, little sticklebat?”
“Look here, youngster!” said the mate. “Take my advice: go back to your mother, give my compliments to the old lady, and tell her to take a turn or two of her petticoat strings round you, belay them to the leg of a chair, and keep you safe moored there for half a dozen years to come!” This advice elicited a fresh peal of laughter. I felt humiliated at this rough bantering, and knew not what reply to make. In my confusion I stammered out the words—
“I have no mother to go home to!”
This reply appeared to produce a sudden effect upon
