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spite of all； drinking from the same little cup…a battered zinc dipper which
Sailor Ben had unslung from a strap round his waist。 I think I never saw
him without this dipper and a sheath…knife suspended just back of his hip；
ready for any convivial occasion。
We had a merry time of it。 The Captain was in great force this evening；
and not only related his famous exploit in the War of 1812； but regaled the
company with a dashing sea…song from Mr。 Shakespeare's play of The
Tempest。 He had a mellow tenor voice （not Shakespeare； but the Captain）；
and rolled out the verse with a will：
〃The master； the swabber； the boatswain； and I；
The gunner； and his mate；
Lov'd Mall； Meg； and Marian； and Margery；
But none of us car'd for Kate。〃
〃A very good song； and very well sung；〃 says Sailor Ben； 〃but some of
us does care for Kate。 Is this Mr。 Shawkspear a seafarm' man； sir？〃 〃Not at
present；〃 replied the Captain； with a monstrous twinkle in his eye。
The clock was striking ten when the party broke up。 The Captain
walked to the 〃Mariner's Home〃 with his guest； in order to question him
regarding his future movements。
〃Well； sir；〃 said he； 〃I ain't as young as I was； an' I don't cal'ulate to go
to sea no more。 I proposes to drop anchor here； an' hug the land until the
old hulk goes to pieces。 I've got two or three thousand dollars in the locker；
an' expects to get on uncommon comfortable without askin' no odds from
the Assylum for Decayed Mariners。〃
My grandfather indorsed the plan warmly； and Sailor Ben did drop
anchor in Rivermouth； where he speedily became one of the institutions of
the town。
His first step was to buy a small one…story cottage located at the head
of the wharf； within gun…shot of the Nutter House。 To the great amusement
of my grandfather； Sailor Ben painted the cottage a light sky…blue； and ran
a broad black stripe around it just under the eaves。 In this stripe he painted
white port…holes； at regular distances； making his residence look as much
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like a man…of…war as possible。 With a short flag…staff projecting over the
door like a bowsprit； the effect was quite magical。 My description of the
exterior of this palatial residence is complete when I add that the
proprietor nailed a horseshoe against the front door to keep off the
witches…a very necessary precaution in these latitudes。
The inside of Sailor Ben's abode was not less striking than the outside。
The cottage contained two rooms； the one opening on the wharf he called
his cabin； here he ate and slept。 His few tumblers and a frugal collection of
crockery were set in a rack suspended over the table； which had a cleat of
wood nailed round the edge to prevent the dishes from sliding off in case
of a heavy sea。 Hanging against the walls were three or four highly
colored prints of celebrated frigates； and a lithograph picture of a rosy
young woman insufficiently clad in the American flag。 This was labelled
〃Kitty；〃 though I'm sure it looked no more like her than I did。 A walrus…
tooth with an Esquimaux engraved on it； a shark's jaw； and the blade of a
sword…fish were among the enviable decorations of this apartment。 In one
corner stood his bunk； or bed； and in the other his well…worn sea…chest； a
perfect Pandora's box of mysteries。 You would have thought yourself in
the cabin of a real ship。
The little room aft； separated from the cabin by a sliding door； was the
caboose。 It held a cooking…stove； pots； pans； and groceries； also a lot of
fishing…lines and coils of tarred twine； which made the place smell like a
forecastle； and a delightful smell it is…to those who fancy it。
Kitty didn't leave our service； but played housekeeper for both
establishments； returning at night to Sailor Ben's。 He shortly added a
wherry to his worldly goods； and in the fishing season made a very
handsome income。 During the winter he employed himself manufacturing
crab…nets； for which he found no lack of customers。
His popularity among the boys was immense。 A jackknife in his expert
hand was a whole chest of tools。 He could whittle out anything from a
wooden chain to a Chinese pagoda； or a full…rigged seventy…four a foot
long。 To own a ship of Sailor Ben's building was to be exalted above your
fellow…creatures。 He didn't carve many； and those he refused to sell；
choosing to present them to his young friends； of whom Tom Bailey； you
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The Story of a Bad Boy
may be sure； was one。
How delightful it was of winter nights to sit in his cosey cabin； close to
the ship's stove （he wouldn't hear of having a fireplace）； and listen to
Sailor Ben's yarns！ In the early summer twilights； when he sat on the door…
step splicing a rope or mending a net； he always had a bevy of blooming
young faces alongside。
The dear old fellow！ How tenderly the years touched him after this…all
the more tenderly； it seemed； for having roughed him so cruelly in other
days！
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CHAPTER Seventeen
How We Astonished the Rivermouthians
Sailor Ben's arrival partly drove the New Orleans project from my
brain。 Besides； there was just then a certain movement on foot by the
Centipede Club which helped to engross my attention。
Pepper Whitcomb took the Captain's veto philosophically； observing
that he thought from the first the governor wouldn't let me go。 I don't think
Pepper was quite honest in that。
But to the subject in hand。
Among the few changes that have taken place in Rivermouth during
the past twenty years there is one which I regret。 I lament the removal of
all those varnished iron cannon which used to do duty as posts at the
corners of streets leading from the river。 They were quaintly ornamental；
each set upon end with a solid shot soldered into its mouth； and gave to
that part of the town a picturesqueness very poorly atoned for by the
conventional wooden stakes that have deposed them。
These guns （〃old sogers〃 the boys called them） had their story； like
everything else in Rivermouth。 When that everlasting last war…the War of
1812； I mean…came to an end； all the brigs； schooners； and barks fitted out
at this port as privateers were as eager to get rid of their useless twelve…
pounders and swivels as they had previously been to obtain them。 Many of
the pieces had cost large sums； and now they were little better than so
much crude iron…not so good； in fact； for they were clumsy things to break
up and melt over。 The government didn't want them； private citizens didn't
want them； they were a drug in the market。
But there was one man； ridiculous beyond his generation； who got it
into his head that a fortune was to be made out of these same guns。 To buy
them all； to hold on to them until war was declared again （as he had no
doubt it would be in a few months）； and then sell out at fabulous prices…
this was the daring idea that addled the pate of Silas Trefethen； 〃Dealer in
E。 & W。 I。 Goods and Groceries；〃 as the faded sign over his shop…door
informed the public。
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Silas went shrewdly to work； buying up every old cannon he could lay
hands on。 His back…yard was soon crowded with broken…down gun…
carriages； and his barn with guns； like an arsenal。 When Silas's purpose
got wind it was astonishing how valuable that thing became which just
now was worth nothing at all。
〃Ha； ha！〃 thought Silas。 〃Somebody else is tryin' hi git control of the
market。 But I guess I've got the start of him。〃
So he went on buying and buying； oftentimes paying double the
original price of the article。 People in the neighboring towns collected all
the worthless ordnance they