An Incident Worth Relating Grew Out Of This Freak.
There wandered about Papeetee, at this time, a shrivelled little
fright of an Englishwoman, known among sailors as "Old Mother Tot."
From New Zealand to the Sandwich Islands, she had been all over the
South Seas; keeping a rude hut of entertainment for mariners, and
supplying them with rum and dice.
Upon the missionary islands, of
course, such conduct was severely punishable; and at various places,
Mother Tot's establishment had been shut up, and its proprietor made
to quit in the first vessel that could be hired to land her
elsewhere. But, with a perseverance invincible, wherever she went she
always started afresh; and so became notorious everywhere.
By some wicked spell of hers, a patient, one-eyed little cobbler
followed her about, mending shoes for white men, doing the old
woman's cooking, and bearing all her abuse without grumbling. Strange
to relate, a battered Bible was seldom out of his sight; and whenever
he had leisure, and his mistress' back was turned, he was forever
poring over it. This pious propensity used to enrage the old crone
past belief; and oftentimes she boxed his ears with the book, and
tried to burn it. Mother Tot and her man Josy were, indeed, a curious
pair.
But to my story.
A week or so after our arrival in the harbour, the old lady had once
again been hunted down, and forced for the time to abandon her
nefarious calling. This was brought about chiefly by Wilson, who, for
some reason unknown, had contracted the most violent hatred for her;
which, on her part, was more than reciprocated.
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