CHAPTER XX.

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Just as the Buccaneer was about to start upon his round of calls, the snowy white sails of a large ship were to be seen gliding, as it seemed, over the fields that hemmed in his principal river; the hull of the stranger being hidden by a bend. From her mast-head flew a star-spangled banner, and the well-known strains of Yankee Doodle came floating up on the southerly breeze. "Ah!" exclaimed the Buccaneer, "Here comes Jonathan, our cheap-Jack cousin: been home to refit and reload I suppose." Presently a long black hull with a good sheer forward came, as it were, out of the low lying land below the city.

In days long gone by, such a suspicious looking craft would have made the bold Buccaneer beat to quarters, when out would have gone his guns, but times had greatly changed, and pirates of the open and declared type were not to be seen on Western waters. The black flag with death's head and cross-bones is never boldly run up now to the mast-head as in the good brave days of old. It frightens people. So all robberies both on sea and land are done under more respectable looking flags; and very much more genteelly. No walking the plank, no running up to the yard arm. Now a whole crew are sent to the bottom of the sea at a single shot, and there is an end of them.

The stranger finding a comfortable berth, rounded to, as sailors say. Splash went her anchor, rattle, rattle went her chain. Down came the yards, clewlines and buntlines were well manned, and up went the snowy sails. The nimble seaman scudded up aloft, and rolled up the canvas, and everything was trimmed down, and hauled taught, and his yards squared in proper ship-shape fashion. "Bravo, Jonathan!" cried the Buccaneer. "Nearly as well done as I could have done it myself. True chip of the old block; eh! Dogvane?"

"Yes, sir: and at driving a bargain, or getting the better of a friend, our Jonathan has not an equal."

Presently a boat impelled by lusty arms and hands shot round the stern of the old ship, and brought up alongside, and a tall lanky fellow with a big pack on his back stepped on deck. In an easy tone of familiarity he saluted the old Buccaneer. "Wa'al, old hoss, how are things with you?"

"Pretty well, Jonathan; pretty well," replied the Buccaneer.

"Glad to hear it; heard things wasn't quite O.K. Ever taste O.K. bitters? No! Wa'al, they would just revive a corpse, O.K. bitters would, you bet. Let us deal," he said as he took his pack off, and began laying his merchandise out on the deck. "I say, Boss, could you make it convenient to have this aire stream of yours widened? It puts me more in mind of one of our drains than anything else."

The old Buccaneer was highly indignant at his principal river being spoken of in such a disrespectful manner, and he replied with much dignity: "My river, Master Jonathan, is good enough for me, and if it is too narrow for other people, they can stay away."

"No offence, Boss, no offence. It does look small after our Mississippi, that would be an eye-opener for you, old hoss. But this ain't business. Now, here we have a lozenge that will cure anything, from a cough to a broken leg. Here's a pill fit to physic creation. Honest sailor," he said, addressing Dogvane, "try this pill. It will make your hair stand on end. Take a box for the sake of your family. Each pill is worth a pound, let you have a whole box for one shilling and a penny ha'penny. You have a son, a hopeful boy, give him a pill, if not a pill, try him with this pickle, it will sharpen his understanding and make him a credit to his family. Just you ask who cured Stonewall Jackson?" Dogvane declared he did not want anything; but Jonathan still cried up his wares. "Try this cocktail before going to bed, it will make your teeth curl. Talking about teeth; in teeth I guess we're tall. Now here is a set that one of your ecclesiastical big guns has asked God's blessing on, and they're up a quarter dollar accordingly."

"Jonathan!" the Buccaneer said, "I have long wished to have a little private conversation with you."

"All right, Boss, I thought something was up, chuck it off your chest, whatever it is, it will relieve you."

"I don't think it either neighbourly, or friendly, Jonathan, on your part to harbour people who plot against my life and property."

"What! Have you found out, old hoss, that snakes bite! You've harboured a good deal of vermin in your day, and you can't blame me for doing what you have done yourself. No, Sirree, that cock won't fight. Why, you've given an asylum to the cut-throat rascals of every nation under the sun, and when you could not find room for them, you have sent them over to me."

"I have only given an asylum, Jonathan, to the oppressed."

"That is only one way of looking at it, Boss. Too fine a name for a fellow with a bowie knife up his sleeve, and a six-shooter in his pocket; if he cries 'hands up,' old man, where are you? But this ain't business, honest sailor," here he again addressed Dogvane. "Buy this baby jumper for the missis. It will rock your child to sleep, wake it in the morning, wash it, dress it, slap it and feed it, and all for a few dollars. You have a son? No father of a family should be without this article." Then turning to the Buccaneer he said, "I reckon my gals are leaving your gals standing. They are just taking away all the cream of your men. Now, here's a notion, that may be will mend matters, try a cargo of these patent palpitating bosoms. They are warranted to go; they are as natural as life, and ever so much more convenient, for they can be taken off at night and put on in the morning. They never increase, and not like some cheap kind of article, you never see them under the shoulder, at the back, instead of in their proper places in front; buy a pair on trial."

"Stay, Master Jonathan, let us settle one thing at a time. Is it right for you to let the Ojabberaways hatch their infernal plots against me in your country?"

"Look here, old hoss, the Ojabberaways are blowers; then let them blow. It satisfies the darned skunks, and it don't hurt you. It aint safe in these high pressure times to sit upon your safety-valve. Let 'em blow off."

"I don't mind their blowing off, Jonathan; but I object to the skunks, as you call them, blowing up. As for blowing off; why, my parks and public places, are regular blow-holes, where democrats, demagogues, socialists, and blasphemers may, and do, howl themselves hoarse."

"It don't seem to me, old hoss, that you are altogether boss of your show. You are trying to run your ryal car on a democratic gauge, and you'll either run off the track or you'll bust your biler. But this ain't business, won't you buy? Honest sailor, here's a knife that will lick creation; and here's a watch—I reckon we are pretty big in watches. This child of nature is just leaving the rest of the world standing." Jonathan seeing that he could do no business, said, as he packed up his things: "Trade does seem dull; but I'll just look round shore. This island of yours is so darned small, and your cliffs are so high, that it is dangerous to walk after nightfall. You should just come over to our side of the water; you'd see something like a patch of land, you bet." Jonathan went forward to see if he could do any business amongst the crew. The carpenter wanted to deal with him in nails; then the cook wanted to clear out the Buccaneer's lumber-room; and the packman said that for a duke or two, or a couple of lords he would spring some dollars; for that he had none in his country, and accordingly they were very highly esteemed. He did love a lord. Then he wanted to exchange a dozen brow-beating barristers for one incorruptible judge; but the cook, the carpenter, and Billy Cheeks, the butcher, all said, that of brow-beating barristers, their old man had enough and to spare, and they could not part with any of their judges. As the cheap-Jack went over the ship's side, he said he had, he feared, mistaken the latitude and longitude, for he thought by the way things were going, he must be in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem. When he got ashore he had still greater reason for thinking this, for the Hebrew element was so strong that he declared there was little chance of an honest man getting a living. Many of the Jews tried to modernize their names, but do what they would, they could not change their natures.

Just as Jonathan, the packman, was stepping into his boat, the cook looked through one of the port-holes and asked him if he had any need for the Buccaneer's lion. Jonathan said he thought the animal was not sound, but the cook declared that he was; only a little out of wind, having done a good deal of roaring in his day. Jonathan offered in exchange a skunk, which he declared was a most useful and valuable animal, respected alike by friends and enemies; but they could not deal.

Soon the voice of the cheap-Jack was heard mingling with the others on shore. The Ojabberaways, though they bought little, and sold still less, received a good many of Jonathan's almighty dollars, and as long as they lasted they were likely enough to love him and be friends.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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