Recollections of a sea wanderer's life; an autobiography of an old-time seaman who has sailed in almost every capacity before and abaft the mast, in nearly every quarter of the globe, and under the flags of four of the principal maritime nations

Front matter

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Chapter I

Defoe — Dibdin's Songs — Spinning a Yarn — Carroll Ryan — Out of One Kid — Dock Loafing — General Hewitt — Eliza Cook — Mason — Stowaway — Dick Stuart — Frenchy — Afloat — Fo' castle— Turned Out — Tried — Capt Sellers — Guilty — Sentenced— Good-bye — Cabin Boy 9-44

Chapter II

Look Out — Man at the Wheel — Horse Play — Spinning Yarns — Shorten Sail —

Man Overboard — Bill Collier — Black-Eyed Susan — Royal Dock — London 45-59

Chapter III

Sharks — Paget— Washing— Regatta — Trouble Signal — Flotsam — Bay of Biscay — More Yarns — 'Any Moss — Paddy's Hurricanes — Captain Brophy — Tar River — Schooner Valliant — Columbus — Horrified — Anchor Watch — Bristol Fashion 61-84

Chapter IV

Belaying Pin — Fall from Aloft — Captain Depeyster — Choosing Watches — Blubber Hunters — Sailors— Outfit — Fo'castle Morals — Sailors' Home — Dining Room — Aboard — Jack's Quarters — Liverpool — No Crew — New Crew — Trouble Ahead — Captain's Eye — Choosing Watches — Trouble — Shoot 'Em — Mutiny Ended — Jack Allen's Yarn — Good Crew — On the Banks — Black Ball Line 85-120

Chapter V

Bill Chapman — Whalers — New York Docks — Improvements — New York Wharves — Niantic Block — Hudson Street — Sailor Brother — On Board Again — Rain at Sea— Hurricane — Joe Byers — Work at Sea — Sail, Ho! — Brig Adrift — Silent Strangers — Shellback — Thome's Stories — Dolphins — M an-of- War— Albatross— Goney Killed— Desolation— Jack Lenine— Mon soon— Proas— Hong Kong — Samshu— Dangerous Work — Killing Rats Seven Men Lost— Chops— Monkeys— Quarreling— Steward Stabbed— Homeward Bound — Great Fire in New York — The Cook Tried — In Prison 121-174

Chapter VI

Blackbirding — Barracoons — Isle of Pines — On a Slaver — Home, Sweet

VI 1

Chapter VII

Ship Rome — Weighing Pepper — " No Eat Pig" — Rajah of Pepperdom — St. Helena — Tomb of Napoleon — Fun Abroad — Gibraltar — Marseilles — Interpreter — Gibraltar — BiL' Waters — The Bo'son — Blue Beard 183-204

Chapter XI

Oswego — Canton — Hong Kong — Amoy — Typhoon — Pillar Dollars — Investigation — Gazelle — Pirates— Homesick — Thief on Board — Anjer— Indian Ocean — Fire Island — Captain Benson — India Shawls — Montreal 241-259

Chapter XII

Walter R. Jones — Cape Cod — New London — Dangerous Drunk — New London — War With Mexico — At the Post-Office — An Episode — Hanged at the Yardarm — Alligators — Captain Moore — Captain Martin — New Orleans — Vera Cruz — Baton Rouge, La. — Captain Drummond — Captain Hunt — Chicken Thieves — New Orleans — " English Turn" — Night Visitors — Lobscouse — Bagdad — Various Names — Camargo — Jaspar — Tampico — Reform Habits — Sailors' Snug Harbor 261-298

Chapter XIII

Mary Kingsland — The Angel of Death — The Ewing — In an Omnibus — Thank You, Miss — Whitewash — Mutiny — An Accident — John C. Brushwood — Revenue Cutter — Gulf Stream — Doldrums — Cape Horn — Andes of Chili — Callao — Lima — Lobos Islands — Santa Barbara — La Purissima — Uncle Charles — Joe Benson — Agassiz — Hong Kong — Chinese Pilot — Macao — Madagascar — S. E. Trades — Equator — Captain Benjamin — Eastern Archipelago — Steamers and Pirates — Captain John Stivers and Mate — Civil Service — Chinese Food — Home Again — Burling Slip, New York. . .299-352

Chapter XIV

Old Salts — Indians — In Captivity — California — San Francisco — New Crew — Jim Barney — Gospel Craft — Honolulu — Hong Kong — Canton— Jenny Lind — Improvements— My First Mate— My Brothers— King Alcohol — New Books — Home Ports — Drop Anchor 353-391

ILLUSTRATIONS.

In the Foretop ii

At the Wheel 7

Good-bye, Mr. Crapser 8

Chinese Caricature 12

Quebec, from Point Levis 15

Loafing 17

Young Davis 22

Quebec, from the Ramparts 23

Afloat 27

Dick Stuart 31

Under Way 35

Bill Nye 37

Home Thoughts opposite page 41

Consultation 47

Ship Yard, Sheerness 56

In Dock, London 58

Seeing London 59

Chinese Bridge 60

Old London Bridge 64

Gin Palace 66

In the Madeiras 73

View of Bridgetown 75

The Plantain 77

Bermuda 79

Jack Ashore 91

Jack Tars on Land 92

Sailor Boarding-house , 99

Signing Articles 125

Black-Ball Liner in Dock, New York 128

The Old Brewery 131

Bill Chapman in Hudson street 139

Hong Kong 161

Canton Belles , 163

Chinese Bamboo Bridge 166

Leaving the Bark Rapid 176

Blackbirds Under Palms 178

Bumboat 182

A Geritulas 184

Hindu Vessels at Analaboo 187

Pig Loose on Deck 190

Genoa 194

Marseilles 196

ILLUSTRATIONS. 1

Bumboat 200

St. Thomas 205

Park, Havana, Cuba 206

Hamburg 208

Canal at Hamburg 209, 210

Pico 222

Sentinel 224

J. W. Pettigrew 227

Boston, Mass 228

Sloop 231

Erie, on Lake Erie 237

Cabin, Canal Boat 240

Chinese Barber Shop 243

Chinese Lottery Office 24s

Sunset opposite page 249

Gazelle 250

Chinese Junk 251

Repelling Pirates .... 252

Procession, Anjer 254

Monkey Merchant 255

Anjer Beauty 258

Chinese Eating House 260

Sloop 262

New London 265

Hurrah, Boys 268

Mouth of the Mississippi 269

Soto la Marina 271

Village of Balize 274

Balize Pilot 277

Levee, New Orleans 279

Baton Rouge, La 281

Chicken Thief 284

Custom Hoiise, New Orleans 285

Florida Fruits 292

Crescent City 294

Temple Bar, London 298

New York from Brooklyn 309

Old Dutch Tavern 311

Rounding Cape Horn . . . . 314

The Shell Vender 317

Senora Donato Lozano 321

Whampoans 336

Chinaman Flogged 338

Chinese Jug. 340

Fair Story Teller 341

Arabian Dancing Girl 343

Street Scene in Whampoa 345

Captain John Stivers and Mate 347

Oriental Beauties 350

II ILLUSTRATIONS.

Burling Slip, New York 352

Luxury Ashore 357

Panama 360

Golden Gate, 1849 362

San Francisco Bay, 1849 364

Where Captain Cook was Killed 366

Hindoo Cow and Calf 367

Jim Barney Regaling the Fo'castle 368

Chinese Rat Seller 371

Boabab Tree 374

Gathering Sugar Cane 376

Chinese Amusement 377

English Factories, Canton , -579

Welcome to Canton 380

Interior of Castle Garden, I851 381

Castle Garden from the Water, 1851 383

My First Mate 385

In Port... 387

Full-rigged Ship 392

Names of Sails 393

A Mexican 394

IN THE FORETOP

Preface

" Cease, rude Boreas, blustering sailor, List, ye landsmen, all to me ; Messmates, hear a brother sailor Tell the dangers of the sea,"

When, to the intense astonishment of my acquaintances, it was noised abroad that I had determined to write the history of my life at sea, I was overwhelmed with advices and suggestions, not only widely differing from one another, but utterly conflicting and irreconcilable.

On one point, however, all my friends agreed ; that a preface was de rigueur, and that to write a book without a preface would be as absurd as to play " Hamlet " without Ophelia.

Slowly and sadly I yielded a reluctant assent, and hence these few lines. Should my patrons pass them over unread, I shall be the last to blame them, for I believe that in most instances (I know it to be so in the present one) a preface is as superfluous and as useless as a " Sergeant of Marines."

Of course, it is quite natural that writers of the calibre of Mr. Dickens should not deign to put pen to paper without claiming for their labors a higher motive than the design to gain wealth and reputation, or to furnish amusement for an idle hour.

Like the mythical heroes of old, " Jack the Giant Killer " and " Don Quixote," their lance is ever poised to hurl the giant oppressor to earth, and right the wrongs of the afflicted and the fair.

In such cases a preface may be useful, in order that the sedate and scrupulous reader may satisfy his conscience that he is not reading a mere novel, but a book replete with highly moral instruction and destined to effect a radical reformation of some real or fancied abuse.

Now, in one respect, I am very much in the same predicament as the Knife Grinder immortalized by Canning ; " he had no story to tell, sir ; and I have no mission to pretend to."

As now in the decline of life I sit, on this wintry night, in my comfortable arm-chair, in a cozy corner near the cheerful fire, and see my children and my grandchildren grouped around me, and listen to the pelting rain or hail, and the furious winds as they strive to force an

4 PREFACE.

entrance within the hallowed precincts of our home, memory carries me back to the days of yore — days of hardships, privations, and peril, as well as of pleasant excitement, wild frolic, and heartfelt enjoyment.

I am once more young, active, and daring, and am walking up and down the top-gallant forecastle, spinning yarns with Jack Mason or Bill Nye, or some other tried and trusty friend, whose bones, long ere this, lie bleaching in the depths of ocean or mouldering into dust afar from their childhood's home.

The seas roll heavier and the gale comes down in sudden fury. "All hands reef topsails " is the word, and, springing from their hammocks, the crew lay aloft to their perilous post of duty ; methinks I still hear their voices amid the howling of the winds, " Light over, light over, light over, to windward," " Haul out to leeward."

Far away from home, at anchor at the mouth of some African or Asiatic river, or amid the Chinese junks at Whampoa, Shanghae, or Amoy, the flute and violin are brought into requisition, and the eye moistens and the bosom heaves as the seamen join in the plaintive lines :

" The home we loved near the bounding deep,

Where the hills in glory stood ; And the moss-grown graves where our fathers sleep,

'Neath the shade of the waving wood.

I remember yet with a fond regret

The hills and the flowing lea, Amid the greenwood shades, where the wild birds made

Their nests 'neath the old mountain tree."

To invite the attention of the present generation to the hardships and perils inseparable from a life at sea, in days when seamanship was not a lost art ; to give landmen a faint idea of the dangers of those who go down to the sea in ships ; to recall to the surviving seamen of my own time the memories of former days ; and last, but not least, to afford myself the gratification, pardonable in an old man, of recounting the adventures of my youth : — such, and no other, is the object of these pages.

Paterson, N. J.

Introduction

It is a strange fact that a love of the sea and proficiency in seamanship should have become a distinguished attribute of the people of the North.

True it is that the Phoenicians, the Romans, and the Carthagenians, in ancient times, and the Genoese, the Venetians, the Spaniards, and the Portuguese in more recent days, have been noted for their exploits, and their zeal in pushing their discoveries to the ends of the then known world.

Yet all this was done, not through a love of the sea, nor by seamen — properly so called — but rather through a greed for gold or thirst for conquest, and by means of expeditions composed rather of soldiers than of seamen.

The vessels of those days were rude in construction, unwieldy in bulk, and intended rather for fighting than for sailing ; their crews were soldiers, or rather a sort of hybrid mariners, entirely innocent of the first rudiments of seamanship, and whom any ordinary seaman of our days would contemptuously style a set of ignorant swabs and cowardly land-lubbers.

Feeling their way from headland to headland along the shores of the Mediterranean Sea, or creeping with trembling fear and superstitious awe a few leagues beyond the Pillars of Hercules, they trusted more to a white ash breeze during the day than to the spread of their canvas, and the skill of their officers and crews. Toward dusk they hastened to shelter themselves under the lee of some headland or in some land-locked bay, and all hands turned in to wait for broad daylight, and a soft and favoring breeze. Even when the inventions of the mariner's compass emboldened a few of the more daring of their pompous admirals to venture out of sight of land, it was with fear and trembling on the part of the commanders, and ill-concealed terror on the part of the crews, that they saw fading in the gloom the headlands of the land to which they bade, as they thought, an eternal adieu.

Many and many a time did this superstitious fear culminate in frantic fright and open mutiny, frustrating many a bold design ; and whenever

6 INTRODUCTION.

a resolute commander succeeded in allaying their fears and suppressing their mutinous designs, it was rather by good luck than by good seamanship that they finally stumbled across some unknown land and made discoveries which they neither expected nor appreciated.

Vasco de Gama never realized the vast empire discovered in India, and even the great Genoese died without being cognizant of the fact that his was the fame of having trodden the shores of a new world.

But, long before the magnetic needle guided and encouraged the navigators of the South to plough the briny deep, long before they consented to lose sight of their beloved terra firma, the Vikings of the North, in their long ships of war, launched boldly forth upon the stormy waters of the North Sea, and carried fire and sword along its coasts from the northeastern coast of Britain to the shores of Normandy in France, founding principalities, conquering kingdoms ; then, like Alexander, panting for other worlds to conquer, they steered forth into the wild Atlantic, and with stout hearts and strong arms propelled their deeply-laden galleys discovering Iceland, colonizing Greenland, and beaching their adventurous prows upon the shores of Narragansett Bay. They were true seaman, more at home upon the ocean than in their homes ; never so happy as when the tempest roared, the lightning flashed the arrowy hail, and the din of battle combined in dreadful unison.

No wonder then, that, as the world went whirling down the circling grooves of change, the descendants of those famous sea-rovers should have developed that love of the stormy waters and that proficiency in seamanship born of affection and long practice. Such, in fact, has been the result. True it is that France, Spain, and Italy have good mercantile fleets ; they are not ignorant of the art of ship-building, and they are painfully awake to eveiy advance made in torpedoes, rams and Krupp guns ; but constant experience has shown, as in the naval engagements with the Armada, as well as at Trafalgar, at Cape Vincent, at La Hague, at Navarino, as well as at the Nile and Aboukir, and in scores of other engagements, that the seamen of Great Britain, and Holland, and of those countries adjacent and contiguous to the North and Baltic Seas, were an overmatch for the chosen tars of France and Spain.

And now, in our own day, the noble clippers that breast the wild seas as they surge around the world at the " Horn," and the gigantic waves around the "Cape of Good Hope," are manned and officered almost exclusively by those whose native tongue bears witness that they are the descendants of the stormy Vikings of the days of Rollo, 'and Canute, or of Eric the Red.

And when on the uneasy bosom of the Western Ocean the seaman

INTRODUCTION. 7

spies a superb creature, that walks the water like a thing of life, her magnificent hull looming high above the seas, her delicate spars gleaming through the upper air, and her spotless canvas yielding to the wooing of the amorous breeze, while her black funnels pour forth a torrent of smoke, and her great screws churn the water into spray, he fully expects, as he pauses in his work to see her pass by, that in answer to his captain's signal the meteor flag of England, or the ever glorious Stars and Stripes, shall be flung to the breeze.

The reader having patiently gone this far, may take breath and very reasonably say : Why this glorification of Northern nations ?

Well, I shall answer as a sailor should, very candidly. It is because I am one of them by birth, training, long service, and affection ; have witnessed their skill, their courage in danger, and their uncomplaining fortitude amid the most trying hardships, and have in their company visited many a land, and sailed on almost every sea.

Having said so much, I think it time to reveal my own identity and give my readers an idea of the trials and pleasures of a life on the boundless Ocean.

GEORGE DAVIS.

AT THE WHEEL

A SEA-WANDERER S LIFE.

Chapter I

' A gallant bark got under weigh, And with her sails my story."

Tom Hood.

" A life on the ocean wave,

A home on the rolling deep, Where the scattered waters rave And the winds their revels keep. 1 '

When Daniel DeFoe wrote that very pleasant story of "Robinson Crusoe," it is supposed that he intended to give young boys such a salutary warning of the hardships of a iife at sea that they would be contented to stay on shore ; but it is now well known that the book had a contrary effect, and that its perusal has sent many men aboard ship, fired with the desire of adventure upon the wide ocean. It was not that book that stirred my fancy, but the much finer, more soul-stirring one written by Charles Dibdin, from which I cull these lines, which exactly describe my boyish notion of the first ship I sailed in :

" I sailed from the Downs in the Nancy.

My jib ! how she smacked through the breeze. She's a vessel as light to my fancy As ever sailed o'er the salt seas."

Dibdin wrote many a fine song which was sung both on shore and on board ship, and he is responsible for turning the head and heart of many a young lad towards the sea who, but for his rollicking songs, might have remained at home and passed a quiet life as a grocer, draper, tallowchandler, or other occupation as useful, if not so full of romance and reality, as that of the jolly jack tar. Moreover,

IO DIBDIN S SONGS.

he who stays on land has the additional chance of ripening off into a staid and respectable member of society, who may perhaps secure a sort of immortality by founding a hospital or a school; and, dying at a venerable age, leave an inconsolable widow and a numerous offspring to bewail his loss and divide his estate — or at least so much of it as the lawyers cannot agree to share among themselves.

How very different is the sailor's lot. He deserts home, loved ones, friends and neighbors, ventures on the treacherous deep, is stowed away at night in a dingy hammock in a damp and moldy fo'castle, fed on " salt horse," drinks water thick with living things, and odorous but not pleasant, and is driven like a galley-slave day and night by men whose very nature, in many cases, is brutal in the extreme ; and after a life-time of the severest trials and suffering his resting-place is in the salt, salt sea. Or if he escapes, he may be favored by a berth in some " Sailor's Snug Harbor," where everybody is favored and petted except Jack Tar.

The history of my life, which is here given in veritable extracts from the log book of my memory, will show how and why I have not brought up alongside of any " Snug Harbor," so called, as yet, although my actual harbor is snug and well secured against evil winds, as sung by the English poet Alaric A. Watts.

" What care I for the sullen roar

Of winds without, that ravage earth ; It doth but bid me prize the more

The shelter of my hallowed hearth : — To thoughts of quiet bliss give birth.

Then let the churlish tempest chide, It cannot check the blameless mirth

That glads my own fireside ! "

Loving the delights of home on shore, I naturally feel a strong aversion to those ballad writers who, sitting at home in their easy-chairs, encourage others to dare the dangers of the deep, luring thousands of young men away from home and all its joys and educational advantages, and plunging them helpless into a life of hardship and peril. I am

SPINNING A YARN. II

convinced that the most of those writers of sea-songs and sea-stories do the work for money merely — it is their occupation ; that is, they trade in youthful credulity, and love of romance and adventure, without any regard to human sympathy, or even respect for the ties of humanity.

Now, since I have rattled off a few lines by way of clearing the decks, or freeing my mind, we might as well lay to and spin a yarn. As this is to be my autobiography — whatever that big word is — written by myself, I shall naturally be excused for speaking of myself on all proper occasions, which I shall proceed to do without further apology. So here goes : —

My father — of course you will expect to hear something about him. He had no long pedigree to bother about, nor a fortune to keep him awake nights, so he was apprenticed early to a furrier in London, England. He was a native of Silesia, formerly a part of Poland, before that country was divided between the Cossack and the German, and his father was also a furrier. So he inherited a fitness for the business which pushed him along rapidly — so fast that, like the " star of empire," he took his way westward and touched shore in Philadelphia, in 1796.

The fame of John Jacob Astor dazzled him, and he sought the presence of that shrewd merchant, who applied to him all the tests that were usual in such cases, and then engaged my father to teach him the secret of dying sealskins in the English manner, paying him a thousand guineas for that information.

With this capital in cash he went to Montreal, Canada, where he began business in furs for himself. As might be expected, and as my readers must suppose, a young man with a thousand guineas and a prospect of a good business, being a fine prize for some young maid, my father was captured. I never knew exactly how it happened, but have every reason to believe that it was an old-fashioned match,

SPINNING A YARN.

such as Giles Fletcher sang about two hundred and fifty years ago:

" Love the strqng and weak doth yoke, And makes the ivy climb the oak ; Under whose shadows lions wild, Softened by love, grow tame and mild."

Captured and married in 1818.

There is not much more to say about my father, and what there is, as you will see, is not very consoling to me as his son and heir. I was honored with a first appearance as his son in the morning of June 17, 1821; but the honor of

CHINESE CARICATURE OF A SAILOR "SPINNING YARNS.

inheriting any of his wealth was denied me, perhaps for the best of reasons — so that I might make headway for myself on the sea of life.

Just exactly why the 17th of June was selected for my first appearance on deck is not so clear. I have consulted all sorts of almanacs, farmer's and nautical; inquired of " the only reliable and highly gifted astrologers," had my horoscope constructed several times by the most learned adepts in occult knowledge, but all in vain. Nor does history afford any light on the question. There is no record

SPINNING A YARN. 13

of earthquakes, meteors, comets, tidal waves, or even a decent-sized epidemic of that time, which might have heralded the advent of a stranger in the house of Davis, who was soon named George.

There, the craft is launched, but not yet rigged and provisioned for a voyage. We will now attend to that part of the log.

My father felt the anxiety of a fond parent for the welfare of his son and therefore extended his business connections until he virtually monopolized the fur trade of Canada, when he began, in 1828, to invest in real estate and in building houses. The disturbances caused by the rebellion in 1837-38 in Canada so upset all sorts of business that the fur trade was totally used up and a dead loss, and real estate ventures sunk clean out of sight. It was a total wreck so far as my father was concerned. He left Canada for the States, came to New York in 1830, and found employment at his trade as a finisher of fine furs, and I went into a grocery store as a clerk.

The fascinating game of billiards drew me away from cheese and sugar, and I was employed in the saloon at 28 Park Row, next to the old Park Theatre. It was there that I met Mr. Crapser, who was the cause, indirectly, of my first venture on the briny deep. He was a large land-owner in St. Lawrence County, this State, and had been a neighbor of my father's in Montreal. He was also a shipper of large quantities of square timber to England, and in the course of trade knew many ship-masters. With my father's consent I returned to Quebec in the employ of Mr. Crapser, and through his kindness had many hours to myself, which were spent in lounging about the lower town, among the quays and the ships, occasionally taking a trip to the Falls of Montmorency, the Isle of Orleans, or other ones among the many pleasant resorts about Quebec. All this time my mind was absorbing ideas, notions, and fancies about the sea,

14 CARROLL RYAN.

the glorious life of a sailor, the rosy side of which was all that I could see then. The thorny side appeared to me in sad reality as the years wore on. Carroll Ryan, a Canadian poet, has written much that touches my feelings, and convinces me that he has had experience away from home and friends as well as I. He writes : —

" Come, I will tell a tale to thee Of one — a lovely youth, Who sought o'er land and over sea

For peace, and love, and truth; But never could the seeker find Aught like the form that filled his mind."

But as traveling is beneficial to the traveler, in addition to former preparations I studied geography earnestly, early and late, as I could find time, and became familiar with the maps of many countries, wondering at and trying to master the queer-looking names. The office globe was nearly worn out by my frequent turnings. I often wondered, if the earth itself was really round like the office globe, how was it possible for ships to sail safely around on the opposite side. Many years passed before I was able to feel and know that I was on the surface of the great globe of the earth, and that it appeared of the same level in all places, except only when on or near high mountain-tops.

Many times have I spied with great interest the white canvas of some vessel while rounding the point of the Isle of Orleans, and watched it until it should "come to" and furl sails abreast of the citadel on Cape Diamond, lower its gig, manned by bronzed seamen, who made the spray fly from their oar blades as they brought their captain ashore. How I gazed with awe at all — captain and sailors — who had brought from remote lands spices, silks, perfumes, and strange-looking fruits.

I am quite sure that my senses were captivated one by one by the various belongings of the vessels that I visited. The smell of tarred rigging, the tropical fruits; the noises made by the huge chains, hawsers, creaking yards ; the l6 OUT OF ONE KID.

shouting and singing of the sailors ; even the swearing of the ruffianly mates and master stevedores did not seem very awful, but on the whole somewhat fascinating. To be sure, some of the more violent swearers actually made the cold chills run down my back, and caused me to wonder why such terrible words were needed; but time wore off such sensitiveness, and I grew familiar with a vast catalogue of oaths in many languages, which were poured out from habit rather than in rage. Oaths in a sailor's mouth are simply salt, spice, seasoning, or, as the writers say, italics, small caps, and exclamation points, necessary to give piquancy and force to the discourse.

I usually embraced every opportunity to talk with any grizzled veteran of the sea whose kindly nature bore with my inquisitive habits, for I was hungry and thirsty after knowledge of the sea and its surroundings. How delightful those days were ! In some respects the happiest of my life. All was fairy-land to me in the future, and I was to be the prince, the favorite of the powers of good, and even the stories of Sindbad the Sailor, which I read with infinite enjoyment, seemed merely prophetic of what I should enjoy when once I should become a sailor. The most attractive of all the old salts were those who were grizzled with age, bronzed with tropical suns, and strengthened by battling with the storm-kings of the Bay of Biscay, Cape Horn, and a hundred other regions. I was often invited to come aboard and see all the sailors eat out of one kid without biting one another.