A Very Little Humanity Went A Long Way With Me
After The Experience Of The Evening.
A sympathy grew up at once
between the bo's'un and myself; and that night, and during the next
few days, I learned to appreciate him better.
He was a remarkable
type, and not at all the kind of man you find in books. He had
been at Sebastopol under English colours; and again in a States
ship, 'after the Alabama, and praying God we shouldn't find her.'
He was a high Tory and a high Englishman. No manufacturer could
have held opinions more hostile to the working man and his strikes.
'The workmen,' he said, 'think nothing of their country. They
think of nothing but themselves. They're damned greedy, selfish
fellows.' He would not hear of the decadence of England. 'They
say they send us beef from America,' he argued; 'but who pays for
it? All the money in the world's in England.' The Royal Navy was
the best of possible services, according to him. 'Anyway the
officers are gentlemen,' said he; 'and you can't get hazed to death
by a damned non-commissioned - as you can in the army.' Among
nations, England was the first; then came France. He respected the
French navy and liked the French people; and if he were forced to
make a new choice in life, 'by God, he would try Frenchmen!' For
all his looks and rough, cold manners, I observed that children
were never frightened by him; they divined him at once to be a
friend; and one night when he had chalked his hand and clothes, it
was incongruous to hear this formidable old salt chuckling over his
boyish monkey trick.
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