CHIPS. 137 



Ben that was my new friend's name was au 

 old sailor, and had seen a good deal of the world. 

 We had therefore a good deal to talk about, and 

 a great many places to compare notes on. First, 

 however, I laid before him my free-will offering 

 of tobacco and books, requesting him to share the 

 former with any other good fellows on board. 

 This, together with the fact that I was a merchant 

 sailor, procured me shortly an enlarged acquain- 

 tance on board, all who were in the good graces 

 of Chips seating themselves around us to listen 

 to our yarns. 



The hardships to which the merchant sailor is 

 exposed, beyond either the man-of-war's man or 

 the whaleman, and the strange vicissitudes of his 

 life, procure him, in a superior degree, the esteem 

 of all other classes of seafaring people. Whether 

 in the polished man-of-war, the dirty whaler, or 

 the diminutive fisherman or coaster, a merchant 

 sailor, as he is always first at the post of duty or 

 danger, is allowed to place himself first at mess, 

 or in the council. It was thus that I found Chips 

 looked up to with respect not unmixed with fear, 

 by the rest of his shipmates in the forecastle, 

 while the officers valued him above any other half 

 lozen of the crew. And it was thus that I, while 

 cordially hated by the greater part of my verdant 

 shipmates, was yet able to exact sufficient respect 

 from them to make them defer to my opinions, 

 and leave my property unmolested. 



1 explained to Chips my position on board ship, 



