“No, I am no preacher,” Kit answered pleasantly; “but I am not fool enough to spend my money on Bowery shows, either.”
The Captain’s bell rang again, and he had to hurry away before Chock had a chance to retort. He was wanted this time to help the Captain get ready to go ashore; and after the Captain had gone he took the opportunity to write his last letter home before sailing, as he always had less to do when the Captain was away. There were writing-materials on the big cabin table, and he sat down and wrote:—
Dear Mother and Vieve:—We are getting up steam and will be off to-night or to-morrow morning, so this is the last letter you will get from me till I am back from Yucatan. And won’t I be a regular old sailor by that time!
The Captain has gone ashore, and we expect the rest of the crew this evening. You see only about half the crew stay by the ship all the time; the rest are shipped new for every voyage. The regular ones are the Captain, the first and second mates, the chief engineer and his three assistants, the boatswain, the cabin steward, cabin boy (that’s the undersigned!), cook, galley boy (that boy is about thirty!), and the engineers’ mess-room boy. Then before sailing we ship six men “before the mast,” and four firemen, or stokers. That will make twenty-three of us on board when we sail.
I think I have given the Captain satisfaction so far, and I like it first-rate. Of course we are only in port yet, but I shall like it at sea too. We have a beautiful little cabin, and the Captain’s room is about half as large as the cabin. I have to take care of his room, keep it clean, and keep his clothes in order; clean the cabin every morning, fill and polish the big lamp, run when the Captain’s bell rings, and, as he says, “do whatever I’m told,” which of course I do.
At the other end of the cabin, across a little alley, are three good staterooms. The first and second mates have one together, and the cabin steward and I have another. He sleeps in the lower berth, and I in the upper. It makes fine quarters for us; but we would have to move out if there were passengers on board.
At meal times the Captain and first mate eat together first, then the second mate comes down and eats, and after he is done the steward and I eat together. The engineers have their own mess-room. Of course there is plenty to eat, and our china is all marked N. C., for North Cape. You wouldn’t think things would be so grand on a freight ship. Why, the cabin is all furnished in mahogany, with soft leather cushions. Oh, I forgot to say that I have to help the steward wash the dishes, so it’s well you taught me how.
Don’t think I am off on a pleasure trip. I didn’t leave you both for that. I have lots of work to do; and I hope to do it faithfully, so that before long I may be something better than a cabin boy. But cabin boy isn’t so bad for just now.
The North Cape’s size is 2850 tons, and she is a very strong iron ship; so you need not be worried about me. Shake dear old Turk’s paw good-by for me. You know how much love I send to you both. Good-by for a month or six weeks.
Your loving
Kit.
That was the longest letter he had ever written; and by the time it was finished he had to help set the supper table, for the ship’s meals must go on whether the Captain was on board or not. Then the dishes were hardly washed and put away after supper before the Captain returned, to be followed in a few minutes by a shipping agent who brought the crew—the six sailors and four stokers, most of whom had been supplied with enough liquor to make them willing to sign orders for advances on their pay, for the benefit of the agent and boarding-house keeper. Some of them were quite sober, however, and there was one young man of good appearance whom Kit thought he should like.
It was nine o’clock by the time the sailors were aboard and quartered down in the forecastle, but still there were no further signs of the ship’s moving; on the contrary, the Captain went ashore again, and the usual harbor lights were kept burning in the rigging. About eleven o’clock, having nothing to do, but feeling too much excited over the start to turn in, Kit went up on deck, and was glad to find Tom Haines taking the air while he waited for his watch to begin at midnight.
“I wonder why we don’t get off, sir,” Kit said, going up to the young engineer.
“You mustn’t say ‘sir’ to me, young ’un,” Haines laughed. “It’s only the Captain and the two mates and the chief engineer that you’re to say ‘sir’ to. But we’ll be off in a few minutes now.”
“Then we’ll be out at sea in two or three hours!” Kit exclaimed.
“Not a bit of it,” Haines answered. “We’d hardly go to sea without the Captain, and he is spending the night on shore. We’ll drop down below the Statue of Liberty and anchor there, and some time to-morrow we’ll get off.”
“What delays us so long, when everything is ready?” Kit asked.