“Right, youngster,” said he. “The navy’s the place for a lad as wants to make his forting. I don’t mean a forting in money—there’s fortings and fortings; I means in carackter, and bein’ stiddy and faithful, and in havin’ lashin’s o’ fun when your cruise is up.”
“But I thought,” said the Widow Stubbs timidly, “there were some hard characters in the navy, Mr. Bell?”
“Mighty few—mighty few,” answered Jack, shaking his head gravely. “When a landsman and a sailor man gits to fightin’, it’s allus the landsman’s fault. And if it warn’t for them meddlesome marines, the sailor men never would git into no trouble. But all the wuthless rapscallions in creation is arter sailor men—and if they warn’t jest as stiddy and k’rect as they can be, ’taint no tellin’ the mischief they’d git into. There ain’t no peaceabler folks in the world nor sailor men, if they is jest let alone and ain’t balked of their will.”
The Widow Stubbs thought this was true of some other people besides sailor men.
Among the small American squadron, the Raleigh, a smart little frigate armed with twelve pounders, was easily the best; and Jack Bell, having examined her all over, determined that Dicky should enlist on her. No bright, capable boy was likely to be refused, and Captain Thompson, her commander, would have been glad to get Jack Bell, too, of whom he had heard something. The day that Jack took Dicky aboard, to enlist him, Captain Thompson asked to have the old sailor sent down in the cabin. Jack went down and found a very dashing young continental officer, proud of his ship and anxious to do something for his country.
“Well, my man,” said he to Jack; “I have had the lad you brought aboard put on the ship’s books, and I would like very much to have you, too. I know all about you, and such a man is valuable among the foremast people.”
“And I’d like mightily to come, sir,” answered Jack respectfully, “but I was give my choice, by Cap’n Forrester of the Diomede frigate, of promisin’ I wouldn’t enlist or of bein’ h’isted up at the yardarm. You see, sir,” continued Jack, coming a little nearer and putting on a knowing look which Captain Thompson understood perfectly well. “Cap’n Forrester had got it into his head that I were one Jack Bell who sarved forty year in the British navy. But when the war broke out, that there Jack Bell thought as how he’d be a villian to fight ag’in his own country, so he up and deserted. Now, sir, supposin’ Cap’n Forrester had said I were that man? Why, sir, ’twouldn’t ha’ taken a court martial two hours to string me up at the yardarm. So Cap’n Forrester said as how he wouldn’t mention his suspicions to nobody, if I’d promise him I wouldn’t enlist in the American army, navy, or marine corps—and as you see, sir, not bein’ a officer, the only thing for me to do was to promise—so that’s how it lays.”
“I understand,” answered Captain Thompson. “Nothing else could be expected of you; but I am sorry. You can assist me though by bringing me recruits,—men that you know are steady and reliable,—and in that way you may be of almost as much use to me as if you were on the ship.”
“Thankee, sir; I’ll do it,” responded Jack with alacrity. Meanwhile Dicky had been inducted into the fok’sle as drummer boy and helper to the Jack o’ the dust. He found plenty of work to do, and a boatswain’s mate after him to see it well done; and the fare was hard and the pay small. But Dicky was like everybody who has found his real place in life, perfectly satisfied. Every day Jack Bell came on board to see him, and every day Dicky saw that the old sailor became more and more despondent because he, too, could not serve his country. One day after Jack had very dolefully left the ship, Jenkins, the boatswain’s mate on board, said:—
“If this was England now, we could send out a press gang and get that man.”