Early as it was in the morning, Stumpy seemed to be very cheerful, perhaps made so by the remark about "grub" which Leopold had used, for the boy of the cottage knew by experience that the provender which came from the hotel was superior to that of the larder of his own dwelling.
The two "early birds" walked rapidly towards the river, not because they were in a hurry, but because they were excited. The excursion upon which they had now embarked had been duly talked over the night before, and Stumpy, though his interest in the venture was small compared with that of his companion, was hardly less hopeful.
They descended the steep path on the bank of the river, and in a few moments more the dingy old boat with the patched and ragged sail was standing out towards the open bay. The wind in the river was very light, and the old craft was a heavy sailor, so that her progress was very slow; but the tongues of the two boys moved fast enough to make up for the deficiencies of the boat. Their conversation was about the prospect of catching a fare of mackerel, though Harvey Barth and his diary came in for some comments.
Stumpy was Leopold's dearest friend and most intimate companion. The friendship had commenced in school, which both of them continued to attend in the winter. It had its origin in no especial event, for neither had conferred any particular favor on the other. Like many another intimacy, it grew out of the fancy of the friends. Both of them were "good fellows," and they liked each other. This is all the explanation which their friendship requires. Stumpy was the oldest son of a widow, who managed with his assistance, to support her family of three children. Socially there was no difference in their standing. If the landlord of the Cliff House was a person of some consequence, on the one hand, Stumpy's grandfather, on the other, was one of the wealthiest and most distinguished citizens of Rockhaven, and the boy would probably inherit a portion of his property when he died. But it ought to be added that Stumpy did not hold his head any higher because of his family connections. In fact, he hardly ever alluded to his relationship to the wealthy and distinguished man. To use his own words, he, "did not take much stock in his grandfather;" and in his confidential conversations with Leopold he did not scruple to say that the old gentleman was the meanest man in Rockhaven.
This grandfather was Moses Wormbury, Esq.; he was a Justice of the peace, and had been a member of the legislature. It was said that he had a mortgage on every other house in Rockhaven; but this was doubtless an exaggeration, though he loaned out a great deal of money on good security. Squire Wormbury had had two sons and several daughters, all the latter being married and settled in Rockhaven or elsewhere. The elder son, Joel, was the father of Stumpy. The younger son, Ethan, kept the Island Hotel, a small establishment of not half the size even of the Cliff House, which had less than twenty rooms. In some respects the two hotels were rivals, though the Cliff House had all the better business. Ethan Wormbury did his best to fill up his small house, and was not always careful to be fair and honorable in his competition; but Mr. Bennington was good-natured, and only laughed when bad stories about his house came from the Island Hotel.
Connected with Joel Wormbury, the father of Stumpy, there was a sad leaf of family history. At the age of twenty-three he had married a poor girl, who became a most excellent woman. Before this event he had been to sea, and had made several fishing trips to the Banks. After his marriage, he worked at "coopering" when he could obtain this employment, and went a fishing when he could not. When his first boy was born, he named him after the master of a bark with whom he had made a voyage up the Mediterranean, and who had been very kind to him during a severe illness at Palermo. Joel's father, uncles, and brother had all received Scripture names; and perhaps it would have been better if Joel himself had been equally scriptural in choosing names for his offspring, for the master of the bark was Captain Stumpfield, and the boy, Stumpfield Wormbury, was doomed to be called Stumpy from the day he first went to school till he lost it in the dignity of manhood, though, even then, the unfortunate cognomen was applied to him by his old cronies.
Joel Wormbury was an industrious and prudent man, but his usual earnings were no more than sufficient to enable him to support his family; for, prudent as he was, it was impossible for him to be as mean as his father, who always insisted that Joel was extravagant.
Seven years before we introduce his son to the reader, the father made a trip to George's Bank. The vessel was lucky, and the "high liner's" share—eight hundred and fifty odd dollars—came to Joel. But he had been out of work for some time, and was in debt; yet he honestly paid off every dollar he owed, and had over six hundred dollars left. With this he felt rich, and his wife thought their home ought to be more comfortably furnished. It was a hired house; and when two hundred dollars had been expended in furniture, Squire Moses declared that Joel had "lost his senses." But the tenement was made very comfortable and pleasant; and still Joel had four hundred dollars in cash. While he was thinking what he should do with this money, his father reproached him for his extravagance, and told him he ought to have built a house, instead of fooling away his money on "fancy tables and chairs," as he insisted upon calling the plain articles which his son had purchased.
The idea made a strong impression upon Joel, and he immediately paid a hundred dollars for half an acre of land in what was then an outskirt of the village. He wanted to build at once, and his father was finally induced to lend him seven hundred dollars, taking a mortgage on the land and buildings for security. The house was built, and the new furniture appeared to advantage in it. Joel was happy now, and did his best to earn money to pay off the mortgage. He made two more trips to the Georges, with only moderate success. All he could do for the next two years was to pay his interest and support his family.
Unfortunately, about this time, Joel "took to drinking;" not in a beastly way, though he was often "excited by liquor." He was not regarded as a drunkard, for he attended to his work and took good care of his family. There were, unhappily, several rum-shops in Rockhaven; and in one of these, one night, after Joel had been imbibing rather more freely than usual, he got into a dispute with Mike Manahan, an Irish quarryman, who was also warmed up with whiskey. Mike was full of Donnybrook pluck, and insisted upon settling the dispute with a fight, and struck his opponent a heavy blow in the face. Joel was a peaceable man, and perhaps, if he had been entirely sober, he would have been killed by his belligerent foe. As it was, he defended himself with a bottle from the counter of the saloon, which he smashed on the head of his furious assailant.