Lost Lenore Part 4

I saw at a glance, that the grocer who had emigrated from Dublin and the man before me were not identical, but entirely different individuals.

"Well, my lad, what do you want?" asked the tall proprietor of the shop, looking down on me with a glance of curious inquiry.

"Nothing," I stammered out, perhaps more confused than I had ever been before.

"Then what have you had me called for?" he asked, in a tone that did little to aid me in overcoming my embarra.s.sment.

After much hesitation and stammering, I explained to him that from seeing his name over the door, I had hoped to find a man of the same name, with whom I had been acquainted in Ireland, and who had emigrated to America.

"Ah!" said he, smiling ironically. "My father's great-grandfather came over to America about two hundred and fifty years ago. His name was John Sullivan. Perhaps you mean him?"

I had nothing to say in answer to this last interrogation, and was turning to leave the shop.

"Stop my lad!" cried the grocer. "I don't want to be at the trouble of having come downstairs for nothing. Supposing I was the John Sullivan you knew--what then?"

"Then you would tell me what I should do," I answered, "for I have neither home, friends, nor money."

In reply to this, the tall shopkeeper commenced submitting me to a sharp examination--putting his queries in a tone that seemed to infer the right to know all I had to communicate.

After obtaining from me the particulars relative to my arrival in the country, he gave me his advice in exchange. It was, to return instanter to the s.h.i.+p from which I had deserted.

I told him that this advice could not be favourably received, until I had been about three days without food.

My rejoinder appeared to cause a change in his disposition towards me.

"William!" said he, calling out to his shop-a.s.sistant, "can't you find something for this lad to do for a few days?"

William "reckoned" that he could.

Mr Sullivan then returned upstairs; and I, taking it for granted that the thing was settled, hung up my hat.

The grocer had a family, living in rooms adjoining the shop. It consisted of his wife and two children--the eldest a girl about four years of age.

I was allowed to eat at the same table with themselves; and soon became well acquainted with, and I believe well liked by, them all. The little girl was an eccentric being, even for a child; and seldom said a word to anyone. Whenever she did speak, she was sure to make use of the phrase, "G.o.d help us!"

This expression she had learnt from an Irish servant wench, who was in the habit of making frequent use of it; and it was so often echoed by the little girl, in a parrot-like manner, that Mr Sullivan and his wife--at the time I joined the family were striving to break her from the habit of using it.

The servant girl, when forbidden by her mistress ever to use the expression in the child's presence, would cry out: "G.o.d help us, Mem! I can't help it."

Whenever the words were spoken by little Sarah--this was the child's name--Mrs Sullivan would say, "Sarah, don't you ever say that again.

If you do, you shall be locked up in the cellar."

"G.o.d help us!" little Sarah would exclaim, in real alarm at the threat.

"There you go again. Take that, and that," Mrs Sullivan would cry, giving the child two or three slaps on the side of the head.

"Oh mother! mother! G.o.d help us!" little Sarah would cry out, altogether unconscious of the crime she was committing.

Every effort made, for inducing the child to refrain from the use of this expression, only caused its more frequent repet.i.tion; and often in a manner so ludicrous, as to conquer the anger of her parents, and turn it into laughter.

When I had been about five weeks with Mr Sullivan, I was engaged one morning in was.h.i.+ng the shop windows, and accidentally broke a large and costly pane of plate gla.s.s. A sudden shock came over my spirits--one more painful than I had ever experienced. Mr Sullivan had been so kind to me, that to do him an injury, accidentally or otherwise, seemed the greatest misfortune that could happen to me.

He was upstairs at the time; and I had not the moral courage to face him. Had I waited for him to come down, and see what had been done, he might have said something that would have pained me to hear; but certainly nothing more serious would have happened, and all would have been well again.

I must have a disposition const.i.tutionally inclined to absconding. To run away, as my mother had often told me, must be my _nature_. I would rather believe this than otherwise, since I do not wish to be charged with the voluntary indiscretion of deserting a good home. It was only an overwhelming sense of the kindness with which I had been treated, and the injury I had inflicted on my benefactor, that caused me to dread an encounter with Mr Sullivan.

Perhaps a boy with a smaller sense of grat.i.tude and less sensitiveness of soul, would have acted differently; and yet would have acted right: for it is always better to meet a difficulty boldly, than to flee in a cowardly manner from the responsibilities attending it.

Little Sarah Sullivan happened to be in the shop at the time I broke the window. I heard her exclaim, "G.o.d help us!"

I did not stay to hear any more: for in six seconds after, I had turned the nearest corner; and was once more homeless in the streets of New Orleans.

Volume One, Chapter VI.

ONCE MORE UPON THE OCEAN!

I did not dislike a sea life; and would not have been dissatisfied with any situation on a s.h.i.+p, providing it had not been procured for me by Mr Leary.

On running away from Mr Sullivan's shop, my inclination was to leave New Orleans in some s.h.i.+p; but, unfortunately, I knew not the proper manner of going to work to accomplish my desires.

I walked along the levee, till I reached a s.h.i.+p, that was just being hauled from the wharf--evidently for the purpose of standing down the river and out to sea.

I stepped aboard intending to apply for work; and after looking around for a while, I observed a man who, to all appearance, was the captain.

When asked to give me some situation in the s.h.i.+p, he appeared too busy to pay any attention to my request.

I was on a vessel proceeding to sea; and, knowing my ability to make myself useful, I determined not to go ash.o.r.e without a hearing.

I walked forward; and amidst the confusion of getting the s.h.i.+p under way--where there was so much to be done--I found work enough to do; and took much care, while doing it, to keep out of the way of others--which, to a boy aboard of a s.h.i.+p, is a task of some difficulty.

No one seemed to take any notice of me that afternoon or evening; and about nine o'clock at night I laid down under the long boat, fell asleep, and slept till morning.

I turned out at the earliest hour, and lent a hand at was.h.i.+ng the decks; but still no one seemed to know, that I was not one of the s.h.i.+p's company!

At eight o'clock the crew were mustered, and divided into watches. My name was not called: and the captain observing the circ.u.mstance, requested me to walk aft.

"Who are you?" asked he, as I drew near.

Something whispered me not to undervalue myself, but to speak up with confidence; and in answer to his demand, I told him that I was a _Rolling Stone_.

"A Rolling Stone, are you?" said the captain. "Well, what have you rolled here for?"

"Because I wanted to go somewhere," I answered.

He then asked me if I had ever been at sea; and, on learning the name of the s.h.i.+p I had deserted, he said that she had sailed the week before, or he would have sent me back to her.

He concluded his examination, by giving the steward orders to look after me--telling him that I could a.s.sist in the slop work to be done in the cabin.