“When you’ve had your swig, old chap, you may as well tell us how the matter ended,” observed my father.

  “Why, it just ended in our losing the whale in the first place, and the boat with her gear in the second. We were picked up by the other boat, and there was no time to be lost, for the sharks were brought together by the scent of the whale’s blood; the whale sounded again, and we were obliged to cut the line, and return on board. But God bless you, messmate, I could tell you many a longer yarn than that, and mayhap I shall some day or another.”

  “Well, I hope you will,” replied my father; “but your fishing story has put me in mind of rather a curious fish, caught by a lad on board of a man-of-war: and suppose I finish what’s at the bottom of this here pot; send Jack for another, and when he comes back, I’ll tell you all about it.”

  “There’s nothing gives me more satisfaction,” replied Ben, “than to pass away the evening in a sober, quiet way, as we are doing now, telling and listening to long yarns. Ain’t you sleepy, Jack?”

  “Oh! no,” replied I, “not a bit. I’ll run for the porter; and don’t let father begin till I come back, Ben. The house will be shut up soon: shall I get more than a pot?”

  “Yes, Jack; but not more beer,” replied my father, putting some silver into my hand; “get one pot of beer, and a bottle of rum. We’ll have that by way of a nightcap, old boy.”

  I ran for the beer and liquor, and was soon back. My father and Ben refilled their pipes, and the former commenced as follows: —

  “When I was quarter-master on board of the Melpomene, we had an old chap for first lieutenant whose name was Fletcher. He was a kind-hearted man enough, as he never worried the ship’s company when there was no occasion; but, at the same time, he was what you call a great stickler for duty — made no allowances for neglect or disobedience of orders, although he would wink at any little skylarking, walking aft, shutting his eyes, and pretending not to see or hear it. His usual phrase was, ‘My man, you’ve got your duty to do, and I’ve got mine.’ And this he repeated fifty times a day; so at last he went by the name of ‘Old Duty.’ I think I see him now, walking up and down with his spy-glass under his left arm, and the hand of the other pushed into his breast, as if he were fumbling for a flea. His hat was always split and worn in the front, from constantly taking it off, instead of touching it, when he came on the quarter-deck; and, as soon as it was too far gone in front to raise the purchase off his head, he used to shift it end for end, bringing the back part in front, and then he would wear it, until, as the Yankees say, it was in ‘taterations altogether,’ and he was forced to bend a new one.

  “Now, we had a boy on board, who entered one day when the captain landed at Torquay to dine with a friend. His name was Jack Jervis: his father and his whole tribe had been fishermen for as long as could be remembered; and Jack himself had been drafted out of his cradle into a coble; and there he had continued day and night, from one year’s end to another, helping his father to fish — so, you see, it had become second nature to him; and, after he came on board, his liking for his former calling still remained with him, and he never was so happy as when his line was overboard, or when he was snooding a hook in some corner or another. He went by the name of Jack the Fisherman; and a smart, active, willing lad he was, sure enough.

  “Now, there was a little difficulty between Old Duty and Jack the Fisherman. Old Duty would not allow the lines to be overboard when the ship was in harbour; as he said it was untidy in appearance, and that there was always plenty of work, and no time for fishing. So Jack hadn’t pulled up his line ten or a dozen times before he was pulled up himself. ‘Whose line’s that?’ says Old Duty. ‘Mine, sir,’ says Jack, touching his hat. ‘I don’t allow fishing, young man,’ said the first lieutenant. ‘You understand me? — I don’t allow fishing. You’ve your duty to do, sir, and I’ve got mine.’

  “Jack, who had only been two or three days on board, and who, I believe, would never have entered, had he known that there would have been such a ‘weto,’ as the boatswain used to call it, looked quite astonished, and said, —

  “‘What, mayn’t I fish, sir?’

  “‘No, my man, you must not fish without permission; and that I never give in harbour. If I catch you fishing again, you get two dozen at the gun, recollect that. You’ve got your duty to do, and I’ve got mine.’

  “Well, Jack could not give up his habit, so he used to fish at night, and all night long, out of the fore-chains; but it so happened that the ship’s corporal caught Jack in the middle watch, and reports him to the first lieutenant.

  “‘So, you’ve been fishing again, sir,’ says Old Duty. ‘No, sir,’ replied Jack, ‘not fishing — only laying night lines.’

  “‘Oh! that’s it,’ replied the first lieutenant; ‘only laying night lines! Pray, what’s the difference?’ ‘Please, sir,’ said Jack, touching his hat, ‘the difference is — that it’s not the same thing.’”

  “‘Well, sir, I see but one difference, and I’ll meet it accordingly. You’ve your duty to do, and I’ve got mine.’

  “The boys’ heads and ears having been pulled about and examined by the master-at-arms, they were dismissed; and Jack thought that he had got off — but he was mistaken.

  “After the hammocks had been piped down, and it was dark, the boys were ordered up by the master-at-arms; Jack was seized to the gun, and had his two dozen. ‘There, sir,’ said Old Duty, as they cast the seizings off, ‘if fishing at night is not fishing, punishment at night is not punishment. Now we’re quits. You’ve your duty to do, and I’ve got mine.’

  “I don’t think that Jack perceived any more difference in the two dozen at night-time than the first lieutenant did between day and night fishing; however, Jack did not fish for some time afterwards. But it so happened, that the first lieutenant was asked on shore to dine with the port-admiral; and, although he seldom left the ship, he could not refuse such a compliment, and so he went. As soon as it was dark, Jack thought his absence too good an opportunity not to have a fish; so he goes into the mizen-chains, and drops his line. Well, he fished (but I don’t know whether he caught any) till the boat was hailed in which the first lieutenant was coming on board, and then Jack thought it time to haul in his line; but, just at that moment, there was a jerk; and Jack, who knew that fish was at the bait, could not for the life of him pull up his line — for, you see, he was a fisherman heart and soul; so Jack trusted to Providence and the first lieutenant’s going down below as soon as he came on deck.

  “Now, you see, the ship was lying at the time ‘cross the tide, the wind blowing against the current: the starboard side (being to leeward as to the wind, but to windward as to the tide) had been cleared away, and manned for the boat, and Jack made sure that the first lieutenant would pull to that side; but he was mistaken. Whether it was that the first lieutenant wished to have a look round the ship or not, I do not know, but he pulled across the bows, and went round the stern, passing the larboard side: as he passed, Jack shrunk under the lee of the deadeyes and lanyards, hoping he might not be seen; but the first lieutenant, having the clear horizon on the other side, perceived the line which Jack had half hauled up, and, having an eye like a cat, makes out Jack also.

  “‘I see you, sir — I see you, Mr Jervis, fishing again, sir. Very well,’ cried the first lieutenant, from the stern-sheets of the boat, as he passed by. ‘You’ve your duty to do, and I’ve got mine.’ ‘That’s as good as two dozen to-morrow morning at muster,’ thought Jack, who cursed his luck, and, in a very melancholy mood, began to haul up his line, which, as soon as he had been discovered, he had let go down to the bottom again. Now, it so happened that, as Old Duty went up the other side, his foot slipped; and, how it was I can’t tell, for they say he wasn’t the least groggy, but down he fell, between the boat’s gunnel and the ship’s side, just like a deep-sea lead, and disappeared. There being so few men on deck, there was not much of a bustle — there was a dive or two for him with the boat-hook, but all in vain — Old Duty was gone.

  “In the meantime, Jack on the other side was slowly hauling up his line; but he had not got it half-way up when he felt a heavy strain, and he thought that a large conger eel had followed the bait up, as they do sometimes, and he hauled and hauled with all his might. At last, who should he bring to the surface of the water but Old Duty, who had been sucked under the ship’s bottom by the tide, and had been hooked by Jack, as he was pulling up. When Jack saw it was the first lieutenant, as he told me, his first idea was to let him down again; but that was only for a moment. The words of the first lieutenant still rang in his ears, ‘You’ve your duty to do, and I’ve got mine’ — so Jack did his duty. He hollows out that he had caught Old Duty, and the boat shifted round and took him on board. The old fellow was quite senseless; but as he had been but a short time in the water, he was put to bed, and resuscitated by the surgeon. The next morning he was all just as if nothing had happened, walking the deck with his right hand in his breast, and his spy-glass under his left arm, as usual.

  “Well, we all told Jack that he was safe this time, but Jack seemed to think otherwise. He shook his head; and now you’ll learn who was right.

  “When the boys were all mustered next morning, towing a line, and holding out their paws, the first lieutenant turns round, and says, ‘Jervis, you were fishing last night, against my orders.’ ‘Yes, sir,’ said Jervis, ‘and I catched a first lieutenant;’ for Jack had a goad deal of fun in him. ‘Yes, sir, and queer fishes they are sometimes,’ replies Old Duty; ‘but you forget that you have also catched two dozen. You have your duty to do, and I’ve mine.’

  “Well, as you may suppose, there were many of us looking abaft, just to see what would take place, and were not a little astonished at the idea of his rewarding Jack with two dozen for saving his life; however, of course, we were mum. Jack was tied up; and the first lieutenant whispered a word into the ear of his master-at-arms, who again whispered to Williams, the boatswain’s mate; and the effect of that whisper was, that the cat was laid on so lightly that Jack hardly felt it; so lightly, indeed, that the first lieutenant walked away aft, that he might not appear to be a party in the consarn, and Jack was cast off without having half a tear in either eye when Old Duty went up to him.

  “‘You fished last night against orders, and therefore you have received your punishment. You saved my life last night, and therefore it is my duty to reward you. I could not let you off this punishment, as it would be making the King pay you for me, instead of my paying you myself. I’m not a rich man, but here’s ten guineas for your purse, and here’s my gold watch. Spend the first usefully, and keep the other; and observe, Jack Jervis, if ever you are again caught fishing in harbour, you will as surely get two dozen for your pains. You’ve your duty to do, and I’ve got mine.’”

  “Well, messmate, that’s a queer story altogether, and queerer fellows in it. I wouldn’t have minded sailing with that Old Duty. Suppose we drink his health.”

  “With all my heart; for you’re right, old chap: when we knows what we are to expect, we’re always ready to meet it; but some officers I’ve sailed with shift about like a dog-vane, and there’s no knowing how to meet them. I recollect — But I say, Jack, suppose you turn in — your eyes are winking and blinking like an owl’s in the sunshine. You’re tired, boy, so go to bed. We sha’n’t tell any more yarns to-night.”

  I was very tired indeed, and could not keep my eyes open any longer; so I went upstairs, and was asleep almost as soon as I laid my head upon the pillow.

  Chapter Seven.

  In which my mother gives my father a scriptural lesson. My father’s grief at parting with an old friend — He expostulates with my mother and quits the house.

  I woke early the next morning; for the whole night I had been restless, and dreaming of the unusual occurrences of the day before. It was just daylight, and I was recalling what had passed, and wondering what had become of my father, when I heard a noise in my mother’s room. I listened — the door opened, and she went downstairs.

  This surprised me; and being conscious, even at my age, of the vindictive temper shown by my mother upon every occasion, and, anxious to know where my father was, I could not remain in bed; I put on my trousers, and crept softly downstairs without my shoes. The door of the front room was ajar, and I looked in. The light was dimly peering through the window which pointed to the alley; the table was covered with the empty pipes, tobacco, and large pools of beer and liquor which had been spilt on it; the sofa was empty, and my father, who evidently had become deeply intoxicated the night before, was lying on the sanded floor with his face downwards; my mother, in her short dressing-gown and flannel petticoat, was standing over him, her teeth set, her fists clenched, and arms raised, with a dire expression of revenge in her countenance. I thought at the time that I never saw her look so ugly — I may say, so horrid; even now her expression at that moment is not effaced from my memory. After a few minutes she knelt down and put her ear close to his head, as if to ascertain whether he was in a sound sleep; she then took a knife from off the table, felt the edge, looked at my prostrate father, and raised it. I would have screamed, but my tongue was glued to my lips with horror. She appeared to reflect, and, after a time, laid the knife down on the table, put the palm of her hand up to her forehead, and then a smile gleamed over her moody features. “Yes, if he murders me; but they will be better,” muttered she at last. She went to the cupboard, took out a large pair of scissors, and, kneeling down by my father, commenced severing his long pigtail from his head. My father was too sound asleep to be roused: in a minute the tail was off, and my mother rose up, holding it, with an expression of the utmost contempt, between her finger and thumb. She then very softly laid it down by his side, and replaced the scissors in the cupboard; as I expected that she would go upstairs again, I concealed myself in the back kitchen. I was correct in my supposition. A moment afterwards I heard her ascending the stairs, and go into her own room.

  I must say that I felt indignant at this conduct of my mother’s, as, so far from provocation, she had hardly received the reward of previous treachery. I believe, however, that, like most people, I was actuated by my own feelings towards my mother, who had treated me so unkindly. I thought for a little while — what would my mother do? She would hardly remain in the house, to meet the wrath of my father, when he made the discovery. She would escape him: this I had no wish that she should do; so I went softly into the front parlour, and pushed my father to awake him. For some time this was useless; he muttered and growled, but it appeared impossible to rouse him. There were the remains of a jug of water on the table and, as I had seen the same thing done before to a drunken sailor, I took the jug, and poured the water softly on the nape of his neck. In a minute or two this had the effect of waking him: he turned over, opened his eyes, and, when I put my finger to my lips to intimate silence; he looked at me with a vacant stare. Time pressed; I heard my mother moving about upstairs, and I was afraid that she would leave the house before my father had recovered his senses. I therefore took his pigtail from the floor, and held it up before him. This appeared to surprise him; he fixed his eyes upon it for a few seconds, and then, as if at last suspecting what had taken place, he put his hand to the back of his head, and found no pigtail there. Suddenly he jumped up; he appeared to be sobered all at once: he caught the tail out of my hand, looked at it, felt convinced of his loss, threw himself down on the sofa, and wept like a child.