"I hope you will. But what time do you sail, sir?"
"Some time this afternoon. The new mate hasn't come yet; but he's in the city, for I've heard from him. He's the owner's nephew, you see, and I can't drive him up, as I should another man. We will go on board about three o'clock."
After dinner I went up to my room, and put on the suit of old clothes which I had brought with me to wear on board of the steamer. It was not a salt rig, but I have since learned that it is not the tarpaulin and the seaman's trousers that make the sailor. I procured a carriage to convey my trunk to the wharf, and Captain Farraday rode with me. We called a shore boat, and were put on board of the bark, which had hauled off into the stream. She lay with her anchor hove short, and her topsails loosed, ready to get under way the moment the order was given.
The crew had been put on board by a shipping agent, who remained by the vessel, to see that none of them deserted. I should say that the majority of them were beastly drunk, while all of them were under the influence of liquor. Without exception they were the hardest looking set of men I had ever seen collected together. I listened for a moment to the wild curses that rang through the air, and my heart was sick. The idea of being for three weeks in the same vessel with such a set of wretches was intolerable. They were of all nations, and the lowest and vilest that the nations could contribute.
The sight of them was a terrible shock to me, and my romantic notions about a "life on the ocean wave," so vividly set forth by my friend Captain Farraday, were mocked by the stern reality. I had taken my elegant trunk on board; if it had only been in the boat, I should have returned to the shore, without stopping to say good by to the captain. I fled from the forecastle to escape the ringing oaths and the drunken orgies of the crew. How vividly I recalled all that my father had told me about the character of the sailor of the present day! All that he had said was more than realized in the actions and appearance of the crew of the Michigan; but, in justice to the sailor, I ought to add in the beginning, that they were not a fair specimen of the class of men who sail our ships. I walked aft filled with loathing and disgust. The captain was giving some directions to the second mate, who was performing mate's duty in the absence of that worthy. Even the second mate was drunk; and, between him and the captain, it was difficult to tell which was the more sober.
"Well, Farringford, did you find a place for your trunk in the forecastle?" said the captain, as he saw me.
"No, sir; I did not look for a place."
"What's the matter, my hearty? You look down in the mouth," he added, thus assuring me that the feeling in my heart had found expression in my face.
"I don't exactly like the looks of things," I replied, trying to smile.
"What's the trouble?"