On the following morning, my attention was called to an article in the local newspaper declaring the voyage of the Seabird to be the most remarkable, if not the most profitable, in the history of whaling. The find of ambergris was pronounced to be without a parallel, and the announcement was made that gold watches were offered as prizes—one to the man who first sighted the largest bowhead that was captured, and the other to the man who first saw the largest sperm whale which was also taken. The article proceeded:

This statement, so far from the truth, astounded me. I learned that the information was furnished the newspaper by one of my over-zealous friends. It had the effect of advertising my success, which it will be remembered was due to a mere accident, and hence deepened the interest in the watches.

My father told me that, in settling the voyage, he did not advise the employment of a lawyer. He remarked, “You will have to pay a lawyer at least twenty-five dollars, and it’s money thrown away. Sailors now are too smart for the lawyers. This is the way they do. Where two men have the same lay and the same outfit and have had the same amount out of the slop chest, during the voyage, they agree that one of them shall have a lawyer. So this man goes in with his lawyer and his voyage is settled and he is paid off; and he pays his lawyer twenty-five dollars. Then the second man goes in all alone, and his voyage is settled and he is paid off. Then these two men get together and compare notes, and, if they find that the settlement is fair, one of them being twenty-five dollars out of pocket, in go the rest of the crew in a bunch, to settle, and the twenty-five dollars is borne by the whole crew. You don’t want a lawyer. However, the only thing you want to look out for is the ambergris. It’s rarely they find it, but some druggist may know what the last lot brought.”

I followed the suggestion, and the druggist I visited said, “The last lot came in about fifteen years ago. There were thirty pounds, all in good condition, and it was sold in Boston for seven thousand dollars. I believe the substance is worth just as much now as it was then.”

It was about eleven o’clock when I went with my father to the owner’s office. Most of the crew were gathered outside on the wharf. When we entered, the only people present were the Quaker, the bookkeeper, one of the foremast hands and a lawyer.

“The only matter left,” said the lawyer, “is the ambergris. I understand that it is more valuable than diamonds.”

The Quaker rejoined, “I prefer to have thee talk dollars and cents. I belong to the Society of Friends, and know nothing of the value of precious stones, jewels and so forth. Friends have no use for such things.”

“Well, the lump is over three hundred pounds, and I’ll settle at the rate of a thousand dollars a pound—Three Hundred Thousand Dollars for the whole thing.”

“Not in this office,” said the Quaker quietly.

“Well, on what basis will you settle?”

“I will settle on the basis of a fair valuation and no other.”

Then the lawyer launched out with a great flow of words, accompanied by violent gestures, to show what he considered was a just valuation, concluding, “What do you think of that?”

“I think, my friend, that thee indulges in too much unprofitable language,” was the reply.

“Well, then let’s hear your views,” said the lawyer.

The Quaker expressed himself as follows, and to this day I remember how clearly he presented his views and how free he was from excitement.

“We have had no trouble in agreeing on the value of the oil and bone as a basis of settlement and now the only difference relates to this lump of ambergris weighing three hundred pounds. It has been examined and found to be in very fair condition. The highest price it is likely to bring is not three hundred thousand but seventy thousand dollars. I naturally assume some risk as to quality and price. I will settle on the basis of sixty-five thousand dollars, and, if that isn’t satisfactory, thee may bring suit or do anything else thee pleases.”

The lawyer grumbled a little, muttered something to his client, backed down entirely, watched with keen eyes the payment of the amount due his companion and accompanied him to the door as if he were a brother.

The Quaker smiled and observed to my father, “I will settle with this young man after the second sailor has been dealt with.”

Hardly were the words uttered, when that individual appeared. And it was no other than Ohoo. Negotiations were soon concluded and Ohoo made his mark, took his money and then looked beseechingly at my father, who notified the merchant that he was to see to it that Ohoo’s money was safely guarded.

“I approve of thy purpose,” the Quaker responded.

Ohoo departed, and almost immediately returned, accompanied by the rest of the crew. After they had been dealt with, the settlement with my father was soon over. The ruling prices as to oil and bone were accepted, and sixty-five thousand dollars for the ambergris was agreed to.

“This is a remarkable case,” said the Quaker, as he handed my father a little over eight hundred dollars. “Thy son has had nothing from the slop chest, and he receives the largest amount I have ever paid a sailor for a single voyage since I have been in the business.”

The Quaker took from a drawer a couple of watches, and held them up before his silent and interested audience. He observed, “I have now a very pleasant duty to perform. It is to bestow a gold watch upon our friend from Gay Head, who sighted the largest bowhead captured, and another upon this young man, who was the first to announce the largest sperm whale taken.”

The Gay Header showed a row of beautiful teeth as he took the watch; and he caused much laughter when he put it up to his ear, evidently to find out whether it was going.

As I stepped forward, I did not extend my hand, but said, “I don’t know as I ought to take the watch, sir. My discovery of the whale wasn’t due to sharp eyes, but to luck. The big fellow had sounded at a place far off from us and happened to come up pretty near the ship. I happened to be the first one to see him.”

“Nevertheless, the watch belongs to thee.”

Then addressing the crew, he inquired, “Isn’t that so, my friends?”

There was a loud “Yes.”

My gratitude was twofold—to the Quaker merchant for his generosity, and to my companions, most of whom I was never to see again, for their kind approval.

My money was later disposed of to the entire satisfaction of my parents, and now for the closing incident—the watch. My father went to his work, and I went home. The watch came out of my pocket every time I passed any one, and, as I passed a good many people, it came out a good many times. When I reached home, my mother handled it as tenderly as if it had been a baby, and loudly praised my Quaker benefactor. When evening came the visitors exceeded those of the night before. Every one wanted to handle the watch, and I was afraid that they might wear it out before they got through with it. Again I was asked all kinds of questions about the voyage, and particularly about the whale which brought me such good fortune. This was rather a delicate subject. But I was fair enough to say that the case was not a very meritorious one. That night I slept with the watch under my pillow.

The next morning I walked up Union Street just as the merchants and other business men were going to their offices and places of business. In a jeweler’s window was a standard clock, and I noticed more than one passer-by stop and take out his watch and compare the time. This gave me an opportunity to display my timepiece. So I took it out with a great deal of pride, and to my surprise and grief it was fifteen minutes slower than the clock. My head was hot, my eyes were misty and my heart beat violently. I put the watch to my ear, and lo! it had stopped. I walked up the street in a dazed condition, turned into a side street and sat down on a doorstep. I was at a loss what to do, but at last, having pulled myself together, I returned to the jeweler’s and, entering, handed him the watch and asked what the matter with it was. He opened it with an important air and examined it carefully and oh! so slowly.

His face was lighted by a faint smile as he said, “It will take ten days to repair it, and it will cost you fifteen dollars.”

An outlay of fifteen dollars on a watch that was not fit for an ashheap! I stammered some excuse and took my departure. All my faculties were now awake, and the course of procedure was plain. I made haste to the Quaker’s office. I stood out on the wharf and, looking through the window, saw him, apparently as placid as ever, at work at his desk. I had determined to give him a perfect blast, and, while I was trying to summon the language I proposed to use, some one spoke to me. It was my old friend, the shipkeeper. He saw that I was disturbed and asked the cause. I told him my story and finished by declaring that I was going into the office and upbraid the Quaker for his treatment of me.

“I wouldn’t do that,” said my companion, “until I had been to another jeweler. There are two things a man can buy and never know what he’s buying—one’s a horse and the other is a watch. Another jeweler may tell you a different story. Suppose you go to one.”

This advice had an excellent effect, and I followed it. I sought an old watchmaker and silversmith who had a long established record for skill and honesty. There was something fatherly about him, and his face always wore a pleasant expression. His examination was slow and thorough. When completed, a smile spread over his countenance, as he said:

“That’s a fine watch, and there is nothing the matter with it. The trouble is you forgot to wind it last night.”