Chapter 17 - The Boy Tar by Mayne Reid
Not big enough
My reflections were anything but pleasant, for never had I been so mortified in my life. All my fine dreams of reefing topsails, and seeing foreign lands, had been dissipated in a period of less than ten minutes. All my plans completely frustrated.
My first feeling was that of extreme humiliation and shame. I fancied that the passers-by must all be aware of what had transpired, and of the precise situation in which I stood. I saw, moreover, the heads of several of the sailors as they stood looking at me over the bulwarks, and upon their faces I could perceive a derisive expression. Some of them were still laughing loudly.
I could bear it no longer, and without hesitation I hurried away from the spot.
Near at hand were large boxes, barrels, and bales of merchandise lying upon the wharf. They were not piled together, but scattered about, with spaces between them. Into one of those spaces I glided, and was soon out of sight of everybody, while everybody was equally hidden from my sight. I felt almost as if I had got clear of some danger; so pleasant is it to escape from ridicule, even though one may feel that he has not deserved it.
There was a little box among the others, just big enough for a seat, and upon this I sat down, and gave way to reflection.
What had I best do? Yield up all thoughts of the sea, and return to the farm, and my crabbed old uncle?
You will say that this would have been the wisest course for me to have pursued, as well as the most natural. Perhaps so; but the thought of doing so scarcely entered my mind. I did certainly entertain the thought, but as quickly abandoned it.
“No,” said I to myself, “I am not yet conquered; I shall not retreat like a coward. I have made one step, and I shall follow it up, if I can. What matters it if they refuse to take me in this big proud ship? There are others in port—scores of others. Some of them may be glad to have me. I shall try them all before I give up my design.”
“Why did they refuse me?” I asked myself, continuing my soliloquy. “Why? They gave no reason; what could it have been? Ha! my size it was! They compared me to a marlin-spike, and a belaying-pin. I know what a marlin-spike is, and a belaying-pin, too. Of course, they meant by this insulting comparison to insinuate that I am too small to be a sailor. But a boy-sailor—surely I am big enough for that? I have heard of sailor boys not so old as I am. What size am I? How tall, I should like to know? Oh! if I only had a carpenter’s rule I would soon settle that point! How thoughtless of me not to have measured myself before leaving home! Can I not do it here? I wonder if there is no way of finding out how tall I am.”
The current of my reflections was at this moment broken in upon, by my observing on one of the boxes some figures roughly scratched with chalk, and on closer inspection I made out the cipher to be “4 foot.” I saw at once that it referred to the length of the box, for its height could not have been so much. Perhaps it had been thus marked by the carpenter who made the case, or it may have been put on to guide the sailors in lading the vessel.
Be that as it may, it gave me an idea; and in less than three minutes I knew my stature to an inch.
I ascertained it in the following manner: I laid myself down alongside the box, and close in to its edge. Having placed my heels on a level with one end, I stretched myself out to my full length. I then felt with my hand whether the crown of my head came flush with the other end of the case. It did not, though there was scarce an inch wanting to make me as long as the box; but wriggle and stretch my joints as I might, I could not get more than square with it. Of course, it made no difference—as far as determining my height was concerned: if the box was four feet long, I could not be quite four feet; and as I knew a boy of only four feet in height was but a very small boy indeed, I rose to my legs, considerably mortified by the knowledge I had gained.
Previous to this measurement, I really had no idea I was of such short stature. What boy does think himself much less than a man? But now I was convinced of my littleness. No wonder Jack Waters had called me a sprat, and his comrades had compared me to a marlin-spike and a belaying-pin.
The knowledge I had gained of my Lilliputian stature put me all out of heart with myself, and my designs now assumed a more gloomy aspect. I felt almost sure that none of the ships would receive me; for I remembered that I had never heard of boy-sailors so small as I was. Certainly I had never seen any; but, on the contrary, some nearly as large as men, who were nevertheless called “boys” on board the brigs and schooners that frequented our little harbour. It would be hopeless, then, for me to offer myself. After all, I should have to go home again.
I once more sat down upon the box, and proceeded to re-consider the situation. My mind is rather of an inventive turn, and it had a bent that way even in earliest youth. It was not long before a plan offered itself that promised to relieve me from my dilemma, and enable me to carry out my original intention to its full extent.
I was aided by memory in the conception of this plan. I remembered having both heard and read of boys—and men as well—concealing themselves aboard ships, and being thus carried out to sea; and then crawling forth from their hiding-places, when the vessels were too far from land for them to be sent back.
The recollection of these daring adventurers had scarcely crossed my mind, before I had formed the resolution to follow their example. Quick almost as the thought, I had made my resolve. I could hide myself on board a ship—perhaps that very ship from which I had been so ignominiously expelled. She was the only one that appeared to be getting ready to sail; but, to tell the truth, had there been a dozen others starting at the same time, I should have selected her before them all.
You may be surprised at my saying so, but it is easily explained. I was so piqued at the people on board, especially the mate, on account of the uncivil treatment he had shown me, that I felt at the time it would be a sort of revenge to play them this trick. I knew that they would not throw me overboard; and with the exception of the mate himself, I had not noted any symptoms of a cruel disposition among the sailors. Of course it was natural they should have enjoyed a joke at my expense; but I remembered, also, that some of them had uttered expressions of sympathy when they heard from me that I was an orphan.
In the big ship, then, was I determined to have passage—spite of mate, captain, and crew!