He Said He Could Go Straight To
The House Without Asking A Question.
And so he could, for I took
the book from him, and he gave his course, naming each street and
turn to right or left, directly to the door.
Tom had been second mate of the Pilgrim, and had laid up no mean
sum of money. True to his resolution, he was going to England to
find his mother, and he entered into the comparative advantages
of taking his money home in gold or in bills, - a matter of some
moment, as this was in the disastrous financial year of 1837.
He seemed to have his ideas well arranged, but I took him to
a leading banker, whose advice he followed; and, declining my
invitation to go up and show himself to my friends, he was off
for New York that afternoon, to sail the next day for Liverpool.
The last I ever saw of Tom Harris was as he passed down Tremont
Street on the sidewalk, a man dragging a hand-cart in the street
by his side, on which were his voyage-worn chest, his mattress,
and a box of nautical instruments.
Sam seemed to have got funny again, and he and John the Swede
learned that Captain Thompson had several months before sailed
in command of a ship for the coast of Sumatra, and that their
chance of proceedings against him at law was hopeless. Sam was
afterwards lost in a brig off the coast of Brazil, when all hands
went down. Of John and the rest of the men I have never heard.
The Marblehead boy, Sam, turned out badly; and, although he had
influential friends, never allowed them to improve his condition.
The old carpenter, the Fin, of whom the cook stood in such awe
(ante p. 41), had fallen sick and died in Santa Barbara, and was
buried ashore. Jim Hall, from the Kennebec, who sailed with us
before the mast, and was made second mate in Foster's place,
came home chief mate of the Pilgrim. I have often seen him
since. His lot has been prosperous, as he well deserved it
should be. He has commanded the largest ships, and when I
last saw him, was going to the Pacific coast of South America,
to take charge of a line of mail steamers. Poor, luckless Foster
I have twice seen. He came into my rooms in Boston, after I had
become a barrister and my narrative had been published, and told
me he was chief mate of a big ship; that he had heard I had said
some things unfavorable of him in my book; that he had just bought
it, and was going to read it that night, and if I had said anything
unfair of him, he would punish me if he found me in State Street.
I surveyed him from head to foot, and said to him, "Foster, you were
not a formidable man when I last knew you, and I don't believe you
are now." Either he was of my opinion, or thought I had spoken of
him well enough, for the next (and last) time I met him he was civil
and pleasant.
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