591 



. 



9ffo Joiqidiizi oJ aeslcncj. ioa oc 



THE SORROWS OF A SAILOR BOY. 



upv 



i/^,--r 



I AM still a boy, and yet have I for years withstood unheard of 

 perils witnessed unheard of adventures. If incidents make up a life, 

 I have lived the time of Nestor ; and yet, yet I am a boy. 



I am a native of England. I was born in one of its sweetest vales ; for 

 some years did I enjoy all the freedom, the freshness of rustic life : but 

 at length, my rural being drew to a close. I was condemned to the wide, 

 the melancholy sea. The pathless ocean was to be my home the 

 porpoise and the sea-mew my drear companions. Words cannot express 

 the tedium, the monotony of my ocean-life. Again and again have I 

 suffered the horrors of the calenture ; again have I fancied that the 

 dappled deer leapt merrily past me, that the mavis sang in the green- 

 wood, but the shrill laugh and joyous cry of berry-seeking children 

 reached my heart, and then, stung to the soul. 



" I curst the carfmdo and the inconstant wind 

 *teX c(fl'-.> That made me for to go, and leave my home behind." 



-OlCf 9fifr OJ lBrf[T9<89 SltOlifiVTTCT 101/3 



However, let me begin with the beginning of my brief though dis- 

 astrous history. I have said that I was country born. I might have 

 worn away my life in the place of my birth, had it not been for the 

 cupidity of one who ought to have been my natural protector. But, 

 cease complaints and, to my story. A gentleman, high at the navy 

 board, visited in a disastrous hour, the scene of my nativity. He 

 professed to be struck with my promising aspect the straightness, 

 strength, and sturdiness of my figure ; he at once declared that I was 

 born for the sea; and, in few words, made a bargain with one who 

 ought to have blushed through Jiis whole body at the bare thought of 

 parting with me. But what will not accursed gold effect? I was 

 doomed to winds and waves ; and, that I might enter on my stormy 

 existence, was placed under the direction of the ship carpenter. 



Little do the smug and cosey citizens of the terrestrial part of this 

 world dream of the miserable destiny of a poor boy sent to sea. In the 

 midst of animation, he is a solitary outcast ; a being glanced at and 

 forgotten ; men pass him by as though there was nothing in common 

 'twixt them and him : 'tis little matter what service he performs, what 

 hard duties he uncomplainedly fulfils, his ears are never gladdened with 

 the sound of thanks his eyes meet not the commending glances ot 

 another. He is looked upon as a drudge, a slave ; a poor necessary 

 wretch, on whom kindness would be as misunderstood as uncalled for. 

 I can with the sternest honesty declare, that through night and day, I 

 have fulfilled my appointed duty not that I wish to be vain of my 

 parts that though I have performed more than any one of the crew was 

 capable of that though my services have been of the most timely and 

 valuable kind, I have never received, by word or deed, the slightest 

 testimonial of applause. I must, in duty to myself, relate two or three 

 circumstances illustrative of my own capacity and the general ingra- 

 titude of mankind. 



The gentleman of the navy board who bound me to a sea-life, 

 declared that he saw in me the materials of a skilful pilot : that in a very 

 little time so highly did he think of my abilities I might be of the 



