DAVID'S GLIMPSE OF NOBILITY
From Pidgie to Bennie.
Schooner Go-Ahead, August 16th, 1846.
You will see by the date, dear Bennie,
that more than two weeks have passed since I last
wrote to you. In the mean time your poor cousin
Pidgie has been lying on his straw-bed, sick with a
fever. It has been rather gloomy, to be sure;
but now that I am better I can think of nothing but
the kindness of the sailors. It must be the salt
water which keeps their hearts so good and warm, for
when any one is in real trouble they are as tender
as little children. There were two or three of
them, whom I had not even thought worth mentioning,
that spent every moment, when they were not busy,
in trying to amuse me. One had been to China,
and you don’t know how many curious things he
had seen there. He tells me that there is a Chinese
museum in Boston, and when I go back there I shall
visit it, and I will try and remember every thing worthy
of notice to tell you on my return. How many
pleasant evenings we shall spend together, in the
old school-room at Bellisle, with all the girls sitting
by the long window, or near us out on the porch!
I love the sea, and yet I long to
take a stroll down the lawn before your door on the
sweet green grass. It is a blessed thing that
travelling of any kind has so much to interest, or
else how would any one ever be able to make up his
mind to leave home?
Since I have heard poor Dick’s
story I don’t much wish to go to a public school;
but Clarendon says that’s a silly prejudice,
for it was the same disposition which made him unhappy
at home, that prevented the school from being of service
to him. Yet I am afraid that I have not principle
enough to go among so many boys and do what is right.
It is harder to be laughed at by those of our own
age than by older people. I have learned this
lately, for I find that I don’t feel half as
much ashamed when brother makes fun of what he calls
my Methodistical habits, as I do of David’s
ridicule. He has a way of putting aside all the
reasons I give him for doing right, as if they were
so utterly unworthy of a boy’s consideration,
that I hardly dare to try and argue with him.
A few nights since, one of the old
sailors took out a pack of greasy cards, and, calling
to one of his companions, said that he would teach
David and I to play a two-handed game, which we should
find very amusing. David was all eagerness to
learn; but I told him that I had rather not touch
them.
“Nonsense, man!” said
David; “I thought that you had too much sense
to be afraid of little pieces of pasteboard, with
red and black spots on them. They are not going
to poison you.”
“But I have promised my mother
that I would never play cards,” I replied; “and,
besides, it would give me no pleasure, for I have heard
of so much evil from the use of them that I cannot
see them without pain.”
The old sailor, who had only wished
to please me, was very angry at what I said, and began
swearing dreadfully. David tried to pacify him,
and proposed that they should take a game together,
and he’d be bound that I would want to play
before they had done with it.
“Would you wish,” I asked,
“that I should be tempted to break a promise
to a widowed mother, who never in my life denied me
any thing that was reasonable?”
“No!” said David, after
a moment’s thought; “give me your hand!
You are perfectly right, and I honor you for it.”
Before he had time to say any more,
Brown Tom came in to look for a gun, which had been
brought on board; for the water was covered with ducks,
and he was anxious to have a shot at them. I should
like to try my hand in the same way; for when fish
and birds are used for food, my conscience don’t
hurt me about killing them. That’s the reason
that I like mackerel-fishing, though I have no fondness
for mackerels themselves, for they are cannibals.
We use a piece of one for bait for the rest, and don’t
have lines more than three or four yards long.
This is a very different thing from catching cod,
where they pull them up through many fathoms of water.
Clary says that next year he means to go out to the
Banks for cod, if he can get some of his friends to
make up a party for the purpose. You never saw
any one so changed as he is.
Last week there came up a storm, when
we were near the land, and they hauled into port.
Clarendon walked off on shore in his fishing-clothes,
without appearing in the least ashamed of them, and
went to make a call on a gentleman in the place, whom
he had seen in Virginia a year or two since.
I wish I had been well enough to have gone with him,
for he saw a great many things which were new to him,
and he says that British America is as different from
the United States as if it were not a part of the
same continent. None of the crew minded walking
about on shore in the rain, and while they were gone
I was alone, excepting Dick, and he was on deck writing
a letter to his sister, to send across the country
and prepare her for his return; for you know she thinks
that he is dead.
When David came back, though, I had
fun enough; for he gave me the most amusing description
of every thing he had seen.
“Hurrah for New England!”
he exclaimed, as soon as he got on board. “John
Bull don’t beat Brother Jonathan yet. Let
them talk of their lords and their ladies; there is
not a gentleman in Boston that is not quite as noble-looking
as the one that I saw, and a great deal more knowing,
I can tell you. We saw a splendid carriage and
four, with a troop of soldiers in red tramping after
it, and a passably pretty flag flying over them.
I asked a little boy whom we met what they were about,
and he replied, that they were escorting a great British
general, who had just come over to the Provinces.
I ran forward to get a peep at the wonder, and had
a good stare at the old fellow; and such another fright
you never saw. I wished I had a temperance tract
to give him, for his face was redder than the sun
last night, when it went down in a cloud, and his
eyes looked like stoppers to a whiskey-bottle, which
had got soaked through. He’d better not
have much to do with fire-arms, for he’d blow
up to a certainty. They say he lies in bed till
twelve o’clock every day, and then does nothing
but just drink and eat, and drink and smoke, till
midnight. I am glad that our government has no
such loafers to maintain.”
“But did not the place itself
look flourishing?” I asked, amused at his warmth.
“No, indeed!” he replied;
“every body had a constrained air, as if they
were in bondage, and it made my blood boil to see two
fine-appearing men waiting so obsequiously on a good-for-nothing
young scamp, just because he had a title to his name.
I hope that I shall never live to see the day when
there is any such nonsense tagging to my label as they
string on to theirs. How much better George Washington
sounds than the Honorable Alexis Fiddle Faddle, &c.”
“That’s a nobleman I never
heard of,” said old Jack, laughing at David’s
vexation; “but Nelson is a very fine-sounding
name, for all it’s an English one.”
“And the Duke of Wellington,
too,” said I, “is not an ugly title, and
I would give a great deal to see the man who bears
it.”
“Ah! ah!” said David,
shaking his head; “you Virginians will never
get over some of those Tory notions you got from the
old Cavaliers, that had to clear out of England when
Cromwell made it too hot for them.”
“And you Yankees,” I replied,
with equal warmth, “will always have the blind
obstinacy of the Barebones Parliament, and think that
there is no morality or religion in the world but
your own, and that calling a man an ugly name will
make him a better Christian.”
We might have gone on disputing thus
till we had made each other very angry, had not Old
Jack stopped us by saying, “Come,
come, boys, be done quarrelling! Don’t
you both belong to the same country? When you
have sailed round the world as I have, Old Virginny
and Boston Bay will seem all the same thing, and you
will love every inch of ground over which the stripes
and the stars wave. I love all Yankees, from Maine
to Texas; and if we would only keep tight together,
we could whip all the world.”
“That’s sound sense,”
said Clarendon, who had just come in. “We
Yankees should stick to our motto, ’United
we stand, divided we fall.’ In our days,
we think too much of our being ‘pluribus,’
and too little that we are ‘in unum.’”
Don’t Clarendon deserve three
cheers for that speech? To think of his calling
himself a Yankee! Why! I have seen the time
when he would have knocked any one down who had dared
to say the same thing of him. And when Jack,
sung out, in a tremendous voice,
“Hail Columbia, happy land!”
Clary joined in with all his might,
and so did the rest of the sailors, and such a singing
of Yankee songs as they kept up for a full hour, you
never heard. If brother practises that kind of
music, he’ll find hard work in fetching his
guitar to match it.
Captain Cobb has just told us, that,
when we have caught a few barrels more of mackerel,
the schooner can carry no more, and then right about
for Boston Harbour. O, how my heart jumps with
delight! Home, home, sweet home! Your happy
cousin,
Pidgie.