Seven Frozen Sailors Part 8

Bedad, ye may say that, and as fine a ghost as ever mortial man set eyes upon.

You must know I was always partial to the say, and first tried my hand at a sailor's life wid a cousin of my mother's, who had a small sloop he used for fis.h.i.+ng along the coast off the Cove of Cork.

It was on boord the little _Shamrock_ I got my say-legs, and, by the same token, many a sharp rope's-ending into the bargain.

I had plinty to ate, and plinty to drink, and plinty of hard work, too, as there were but three hands on boord--my cousin, one man, and myself, making up the entire crew.

I was well enough trated, and had no rason to complain.

The sloop was a fast sailer, and a good say-boat, and I ought to have been continted--but somehow it's myself that wasn't satisfied at all at all.

I never saw the tall masts of the big s.h.i.+ps that traded to furrin parts that I didn't long to clamber up their sides, and see if I couldn't get a berth--anything, from captain to cabin-boy, I wasn't particular--on boord one of them.

One fine day, when the little sloop was high and dry, my cousin stepp'd into a shebeen to get a taste of the mountain dew, and give me what he called my share, which was a dale more pewter than whiskey--for it's mighty little of the latter was left in the measure whin he handed it to me; when a tall, spare, good-looking sort of a chap enough, with las.h.i.+ngs of bright bra.s.s b.u.t.tons on his coat and waistcoat, and a smart goold band round his peaked cap, who happened to be taking his morning's refreshment at the same time, said to my cousin as he emptied his naggin, "Fill that," says he, "onct more,--fill that, and drink wid _me_."

"Never say it again," says my cousin. "Fill and drink's the word _this_ time with _you_, and the _next_ with _me_, honest man!"

"All right!" replied the stranger.

And fill and drink it was more than onct round, you may be on your oath.

"That's a smart youngster!" says he wid the band and b.u.t.tons, pointing to me.

"The boy's well enough, as a boy," says my cousin. "He's strong, handy, and willing, and not the sort of a lad to kape where there's an empty larder; but if he ates well, he works well; so more power to his elbow, and double rations, wid all my heart!"

"That's the lad for my money!" says the stranger. "Would you like to take a trip with me, youngster?"

"What s.h.i.+p do you belong to, sir?" I asked.

"That," says he, going to the door of the public, and pointing to a splindid three-master, with the stars and stripes at the peak.

"And where do you sail to, sir?" says I.

"New York," replied he.

"Where's that, if it's plasin' to you, sir?" says I.

"In Amerikay," says he; "the land of the brave, and the home of the free!"

"Amerikay!" broke in my cousin. "My sister's wife's uncle has a son there--a tall young man, badly pock-marked, with a slight cast in his left eye, and hair as red as a fox. Lanty O'Gorman is the name he has upon him. He has been there two years and better. Mayhap you have met him?"

"I dar say I have," said the stranger, laughing heartily.

"Would you take a message to him, sir?" asked my cousin.

"I'd be everlastingly delighted," says he, "but there's a dale of O'Gormans about; and as most of them are pock-marked, squint, and have red heads, I'm afraid I'd be bothered to know him. Do you think that young shaver would remimber him?"

"Faith and troth I would, sir," says I, "by rason of the leathering he gave me onct for making an April fool of him, telling him the chickens the ould hen had hatched from the ducks' eggs had tuck to the water, and if he didn't hurry and get them out of the pond, every mother's son of them would be drownded!"

"Wal," said the stranger, "it's an almighty pity you ain't there to see him. The man I know of the name of O'Gorman is as rich as mud; and if he took a liking to you, he could make your fortune right off the reel in less than no time!"

"I'd give the worrild to go," says I.

"Come, old man," says the Yankee--I found out afterward he was an Amerikan--"what do you say? Will you let this young shaver take a trip with me? He shall be well cared for under the stars and stripes. I'll give him fair pay and good usage. Fact is, I am in want of a smart lad, who has got his say-legs, to wait upon myself and a few extra cabin-pa.s.sengers. I like the cut of the boy's jib, so say yes or no-- how is it to be? It will be for the lad's good?"

"Arrah, good luck to ye, cousin, darlint, let me go! It has been the wish of my heart, slapin' and wakin', this many a long day! Let me go, and sorra a rap I'll spind of the las.h.i.+ngs of goold Cousin Lanty will give me, but bring every pinny home safe and sound, just as he puts it into my hand!"

"You offer fair and honest," says my cousin. "It's true for you, it would be for the boy's good--far better than his wasting his time dredging and coasting about here; but--what would his mother say?"

"Wal," said the stranger, "I have done a good many pretty considerable difficult things in my time, but as to my being able to tell you what his mother, or any other female woman of the feminine persuasion, would be likely to _say_, my hand won't run to that; so, rather than play the game out, I'll hand in my cards. What I want to know is, what _you_ mean to say to it; and you must be smart making up your mind, for the _Brother Jonathan_ will trip her anchor bright and early in the morning!

Yes, sir-ree!"

To cut the matter short, boys, the Yankee skipper gave my cousin enough in advance to find me in the slops I wanted; and I felt as if I could lep over the moon for joy when I saw the s.h.i.+p's articles signed, and myself rated, at fair wages, as cabin-boy for the outward and return trips.

The ould people lived some twenty miles inland, so there was no chance of seeing them to bid good-by; and maybe that was all for the best, as it wasn't till the hurry and bustle of buying my kit was over, and I got fairly on boord, that the thought of my father and mother, little Norah and Patsey, came across my mind; and when it did, the joy I felt at getting the great wish of my heart gratified--sailing in an elegant three-master--with more people on boord her (she was an emigrant s.h.i.+p) than there was in my own native village, and a dozen besides--turned into unfeigned sorrow at parting from them; and, for the life of me, I couldn't close my eyes all night, because of the scalding hot tears that would force their way from under the lids.

But boys are boys, and sorrow sits lightly on young hearts; and it's a blessin' it does, for sure we get enough of it when we grow older, and, perhaps, wiser, and better able to bear it!

Faith, it was as much as I could do to wonder at everything I saw on boord the beautiful clipper--for a clipper she was, boys, and could knock off her twelve knots an hour as easy as a bird flies.

The skipper was as good a seaman as ever boxed a compa.s.s; the crew, barring the skulkers, were well trated. As for the "ould soldiers," the way _they_ got hazed and started was--I must use a Yankee word--a caution!

We made the Battery at New York in a few hours over thirty days.

I got leave to go on sh.o.r.e with the third mate, a mighty dacint young man; and whin I tould him I wanted him to take me to my cousin, by my mother's sister's side, whose name was O'Gorman, with the small-pox, a squint, and a foxey head, I thought he'd taken a seven years' lase of a laugh, and would--unless he split his sides--never do anything else but that same for the rest of his born days.

To cut the matter short, he tould me the skipper had sould me as chape as a speckled orange! So I gave up all hopes of finding my cousin and my fortune; saw as much as I could of the beautiful city; bought a trifle or two to take home; and, after another splendid run, was landed, safe and sound, onct more on the dear ould Cove of Cork.

"Then you saw no ghost in that s.h.i.+p?" says Bostock.

"Faith, I did!"

"But you have told us nothing about it!" says I.

Wait till a while ago. I tuck my wages, and started for the public, where I knew I should find my cousin--and right glad he was to see me; but I couldn't help feeling as if something was wrong by the way he looked and answered me, whin I asked afther the ould people and little Norah and Patsey.

"Take a tumbler of punch, now!" says he; "and we'll talk of that afterward."

"Not at all," says I. "The news, whether good or bad, will go better with the punch; so we'll have them together. How is my darlint mother?"

"Well!" says he.

"And dad?" I inquired.

"Well, too!" says he.

"Thank the Lord for that!" says I. "And the little ones?"