It was also said that Pepper was to be rewarded for his fidelity to his master by being made court jester to Dogvane, king of the Ojabberaways, and that in addition, he was to be chancellor of the exchequer, custodian of the Ojabberaways' morals, and a teacher to them of manners. These offices were brought under one head for the sake of economy, and as Pepper was an enemy to all official extravagance, this combination pleased him. All thought he would have quite enough to do; but then Pepper was an able man, and what to others would have been fraught with very great difficulty, was to him a matter of ease. It is a happy thing to be especially endowed by Providence. Billy Cheeks, the burly butcher, was also promoted from his humble position on board the old Ship of State, so it was said, to be minister of justice to the king of the Ojabberaways, for he had some legal knowledge and gravity enough for a judge, and as things were to be conducted on strictly economical principles, he was also to preside over the Ojabberaways' High Court of Assassination. He was to be also the keeper of the king's conscience. It was thought that he also would have enough to do.
Again did the Port Watch step on board with that jaunty and devil-me-care air, so peculiar to sailors. Random Jack was given a higher post even than that which he had held before; for he was made keeper of the Till and holder of the Buccaneer's Great Purse, offices only held by men of the most approved ability, and integrity. Many believed that he was destined on some future day to command one of the watches, but there seemed to be some difference of opinion as to which. Many indeed there were who pinned their faith to Random Jack, and many there also were who asked themselves how it was that he had thus made his way. Some affirmed that it was by his undoubted ability, but quite as many declared that it was by his unbounded impudence, frequently called self-confidence. Possibly it was by a happy combination of the above two qualities that he had been so successful. Certain it is that no man can expect to rise to a great height unless he has a good share of the last of the above virtues, for it is the only one that the world truly appreciates.
Of all things there is nothing like success. The middy now, instead of being ridiculed, sneered at, and flouted, was taken up, and those who before would have passed him by without bestowing upon him even so much as a supercilious nod now claimed an acquaintance with him, and declared that they had seen all along the superior stuff he was made of.
Those people who know everything, and they are so many that it is little short of a wonder that the world still keeps so uninlightened, said they should never be surprised to find that Random Jack had entered into an alliance with the carpenter, and obtained through him and others the command of the Starboard Watch; but the carpenter was an ambitious man. Upon the old cox'sn being asked his opinion about Random Jack, he gave it, as was his custom, and according to his own fashion. "The lad is good enough, d'ye see. He has parts, and he's got his head pointing in the right direction; if only he has his ballast all aboard. But, my mates, he seems a bit light at times, and does not stand up well to his canvas, but that will come in due course; that will come when he has trimmed his ship a bit. Then he has a knack of steering a bit wide at times; now coming up in the eye of the wind, until he is nearly taken aback; then veering away until he nearly wears round on the other tack, why, his wake, my lads, is about as straight as a cork-screw. Give him more ballast, and a steadier hand at the helm, and the lad will steer a good course through life. Them's my sentiments, mates."
But one fine day when Random Jack was sailing pleasantly along with all plain sail set to a fair wind of public opinion, he suddenly, without rhyme or reason, put his helm down, and everything went by the board, and Random Jack was left a sport to the waves of Fortune, without either sails or rudder, and it was doubtful whether he would ever again make the fair land of Promise.
But before all this a sad thing happened on board the old Ship of State. The first lieutenant of the Port Watch, honest Ben Backstay, had, so many people thought, been treated in a somewhat scurvy manner, not only by the captain of the watch, but by some of his mess-mates. On one occasion he was tripped up, it was said, by Random Jack and another, and poor old Ben was hurt considerably, though like the brave sailor that he was, he never uttered a word of complaint; but as a slight reward he was kicked upstairs into the Buccaneer's Upper Chamber, thereby falling under the displeasure of the immortal Pepper.
If honest Ben had any feelings he never showed them, and of course, not doing so they were not respected. One morning the whole ship's crew were stricken with sorrow, for Ben, while at his post, heard Him whom all must obey, call his name; so leaving his body below, his soul soared up aloft. The flag of the old Ship of State was half masted, and minute guns were fired. The bells from the church towers tolled out the mournful news, and the Church Hulk sent up to Heaven a requiem on behalf of poor Ben. He was a staunch friend of this old Ship, and she could ill afford, in such perilous times, to lose even one supporter. The Buccaneer mourned the loss of his trusty servant, and he kept a small spot in his heart wherein to plant a few flowers of memory to honest Ben Backstay, and as they towed him to his last moorings, the old Buccaneer said: "Let us all hope that poor Ben Backstay, like poor Tom Bowling, may find pleasant weather, until He who all commands, shall give to call life's crew together the word, to pipe all hands." There was much sorrowing in the land, and many a heart was sad.
Ah! the human heart is but a grave-yard, where lie buried many hopes that never survive even their first childhood; many ambitions cut off in all the freshness of youth, and many friends. As we live, we bear there from time to time, the cherished remains of someone, or of something we love. In our lonely hours we sit by these silent graves, and shed many warm tears of sorrow over them; wishing oftentimes, that we could bring back the dead. Thus we sit, and sit, and mourn, and mourn, day after day, and night after night. At length our sun sets, and our eyes grow dim in the waning light, until at last they close forever. With us we take our little grave-yard, with all its flowers, and bear it away into the great darkness of eternity.