He'll carry all these things to the college, and if they
are better than any that they have had before, he'll be head of
the college. Then, by-and-by, somebody else will go after some
more, and if they beat him, he'll have to go again, or else give
up his berth. That's the way they do it. This old covey knows
the ropes. He has worked a traverse over 'em, and come 'way out
here, where nobody's ever been afore, and where they'll never
think of coming." This explanation satisfied Jack; and as it
raised Mr. N.'s credit for capacity, and was near enough to
the truth for common purposes, I did not disturb it.
With the exception of Mr. N., we had no one on board but the
regular ship's company, and the live stock. Upon this, we
had made a considerable inroad. We killed one of the bullocks
every four days, so that they did not last us up to the line.
We, or, rather, they, then began upon the sheep and the poultry,
for these never come into Jack's mess.(1) The pigs were left
- - - - - - - -
1. The customs as to the allowance of "grub" are very nearly the
same in all American merchantmen. Whenever a pig is killed, the
sailors have one mess from it. The rest goes to the cabin. The
smaller live stock, poultry, etc., they never taste.
And, indeed, they do not complain of this, for it would take a great
deal to supply them with a good meal, and without the accompaniments,
(which could hardly be furnished to them,) it would not be much better
than salt beef. But even as to the salt beef, they are scarcely dealt
fairly with; for whenever a barrel is opened, before any of the beef
is put into the harness-cask, the steward comes up, and picks it
all over, and takes out the best pieces, (those that have any fat
in them) for the cabin.
This was done in both the vessels I was in, and the men said that it
was usual in other vessels. Indeed, it is made no secret, but some
of the crew are usually called to help in assorting and putting away
the pieces. By this arrangement the hard, dry pieces, which the
sailors call "old horse," come to their share.
There is a singular piece of rhyme, traditional among sailors,
which they say over such pieces of beef. I do not know that
it ever appeared in print before. When seated round the kid,
if a particularly bad piece is found, one of them takes it up,
and addressing it, repeats these lines: "Old horse! old horse!
what brought you here?"
- "From Sacarap to Portland pier
I've carted stone this many a year:
Till, killed by blows and sore abuse,
They salted me down for sailors' use.
The sailors they do me despise:
They turn me over and damn my eyes;
Cut off my meat, and pick my bones,
And pitch the rest to Davy Jones."
There is a story current among seamen, that a beef-dealer was
convicted, at Boston, of having sold old horse for ship's stores,
instead of beef, and had been sentenced to be confined in jail,
until he should eat the whole of it; and that he is now lying
in Boston jail.
