 
I FOUND myself quite in a strange land upon parting with my master and his friends. It was war-time, and the place was literally swarming with jack-tars. Taking to the road, for the footway was quite crowded, I soon reached Poplar. Here a large mob impeded my progress. They appeared all moved with extraordinary merriment. I soon distinguished the objects of their mirth. Two sailors, mounted back to back on a cart-horse, were steering for Blackwall. A large horse-cloth served them as a substitute for a saddle, and the merry fellow behind held the reins; he was smoking a short pipe, while his mate was making an observation with his spy-glass. "Starboard, Tom, starboard!" cried the one in front. "Aye, aye-starboard it is!" replied his companion, tugging at the rein. "Holloo, messmate! where are you bound?" bawled a sailor in the crowd. "To the port o' Blackwall," replied the steersman. "But we're going quite in the wind's eye, and I'm afeared we shan't make it to-night." "A queer craft." "Werry," replied Tom. "Don't answer the helm at all." "Any grog on board?" demanded the sailor. "Not enough to wet the boatswain's whistle; for, da'e see, mate, there's no room for stowage." "Shiver my timbers!—no grog!" exclaimed the other; "why—you'll founder. If you don't splice the main-brace, you'll not make a knot an hour. Heave to—and let's drink success to the voyage." "With all my heart, mate, for I'm precious krank with tacking. Larboard, Tom—larboard." "Aye, aye—larboard it is." "Now, run her right into that 'ere spirit-shop to leeward, and let's have a bowl." Tom tugged away, and soon "brought up" at the door of a wine-vaults. "Let go the anchor," exclaimed his messmate—"that's it—coil up." "Here, mate—here's a picter of his royal majesty"—giving the sailor alongside a new guinea—"and now tell the steward to mix us a jorum as stiff as a nor'wester, and, let's all drink the King's health—God bless him." "Hooray!" shouted the delighted mob. Their quondam friend soon did his bidding, bringing out a huge china-bowl filled with grog, which was handed round to every soul within reach, and presently dispatched;—two others followed, before they "weighed anchor and proceeded on their voyage," cheered by the ragged multitude, among whom they lavishly scattered their change; and a most riotous and ridiculous scramble it produced. I was much pleased with the novelty of the scene, and escaped from the crowd as quickly as I conveniently could, for I was rather apprehensive of an attempt upon my pockets. What strange beings are these sailors! They have no care for the morrow, but spend lavishly the hard-earned wages of their adventurous life. To one like myself, who early knew the value of money, this thoughtless extravagance certainly appeared unaccountable, and nearly allied to madness; but, when I reflected that they are sometimes imprisoned in a ship for years, without touching land, and frequently in peril of losing their lives—that they have scarcely time to scatter their wages and prize-money in the short intervals which chance offers them of mixing with their fellow-men, my wonder changed to pity. "A man in a ship," says Dr. Johnson, "is worse than a man in a jail; for the latter has more room, better food, and commonly better company, and is in safety." |
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