Read Ebook: Freak trees of the State of New York by Whipple Gurth Adelbert

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Ebook has 141 lines and 22597 words, and 3 pages

Well, mates, I had forgotten all my notions of that kind, and so I laughed at him. But it was no use.

'Them,' says he, 'that plays cards on a Sunday, runs a double chance of death on Monday.'

His mother had told him this, and so he refused out-and-out to go on. 'Well,' says I, 'I aint afraid, and I'd play if I had a partner.'

Mates! the cards were lying in a pack, and the words were hardly out of my mouth, before they slipped down, and spread themselves out upon the table! Lawrence gave a loud screech, and jumped up. 'Oh!' says he, 'it's the Old Un with us in the cabin!' and up the companion he tumbled, and I at his heels; and rushed for'ard as hard as we could pelt, and cuddled under the foresail--which was lying on the deck--all trembling and shaking, and our teeth chattering.

'I told you what it would be,' says Lawrence.

'I'll never play cards again,' says I, 'on a Sunday!'

'Now, then,' says he, 'you couple of young swabs, what are ye standing grinning there for, like powder-monkeys in the aguer? What's come over you, ye twin pair of snivelling Molly Coddles?' We looked at each other, but we were afraid to speak. 'What is it?' he roared again, 'or I'll make your backs as hot as a roasted pig's!' And on this, Lawrence reg'larly blubbered out: 'The devil, sir; the devil is in the cabin playing at double dummy "put!"'

You should have heard Old Goss's laugh at this. They might have heard it ashore at Yarmouth. Just as it stopped, the sound of the knuckles came up through the skylight.

'Who's below?' says the captain.

'But Davy Jones,' says Lawrence.

'Then,' says the captain, with an oath that was enough to split the mast, 'I'll play with him! It's not been the first time, and it mayn't be the last. Go for'ard, you beggars' brats, and don't disturb us;' and he went down the companion.

But we did not go for'ard. No; we stretched ourselves on the deck, and peeped down the skylight. We could only see faintly, but we did see the captain sitting, holding his hand of cards, and another hand opposite, all spread out, but no fingers holding it, and no man behind it. There was a rap on the table, and I am sure it was not the captain that struck it.

'Very well,' says he; 'wait till I've thought. You're so confounded sharp.'

Then he played, and there was a dark shadow on the table--we did not know what, but it made our hair stand on end.

'Play fair, Old Un!' says the captain. 'There goes king of trumps. Ha! that's what I thought! Of course, the devil's own luck--it's a proverb. Well, never say die. There!' and he played again.

But we could stand it no longer. We scrambled to our legs, and the next minute were down in fo'castle, rousing the men. They were sleepy enough, you may be bound; but we almost lugged them out of the hammocks. 'Turn out, turn out, shipmates, for God's-sake: the devil's aboard this ship, and he's playing cards with the captain in the cabin.' At first, mates, the hands thought we had gone mad; but we both of us told in a breath what we had seen; and so in a minute or two we all went aft, creeping like cats along the deck. But there was no need. We heard Old Goss's voice raging like a fury.

'You're a cheat, Old Un,' he was yelling out. 'You cheat all mankind: you've cheated me. Come, play; double or quits on the first turn-up. What's that? Nine of Spades! Seven of Spades! What! no trumps? I say, don't you mind the old craft under the line? That's her opposite you; so, play away.'

'Mates,' says an old salt--his name was Bartholomew Cook--'mates,' says he, 'this is a doomed ship, an I won't ship for another v'y'ge.'

'Nor I;' 'nor I,' says several, as we crept along.

'He's only mad with drink,' whispered the mate. 'It's all five-water grog.'

'Is it?' said Bartholomew. 'Look down there!'

'Play!' roars Goss at last; and then he paused, as if he was thinking of his next card. The table was rapped. He played; and then quick and furious the cards came down; the captain all the while raving, shouting, and foaming at the mouth.

'Against me--against me--against me! Avaunt! A man's no match for ye. Ye have all! Lost again! No; here--stop. On the next card, I stake myself--my ship--my'--

'Stop!' shouted old Bartholomew. He had been standing at the foot of the companion, and he burst into the cabin. 'Stop, Captain Goss, in the name of God!'

Goss turned round to him. His face was so like the Evil One's that we did not look for any other. Then a brass-mounted pistol--a shot--and rolling smoke: all passed in a minute. Then the captain flung a card upon the table, and with a yell like a wild beast, shouted out: 'Lost!' fell over the cards, extinguished the lamp; and we neither heard nor saw more, till there came a shuffling on the companion, and Bartholomew crawled out with his face all blackened by the powder, and the blood trickling from his cheek, where the ball had grazed it. We all went for'ard, mates, and had a long palaver, and resolved to go ashore at daybreak, and leave a doomed captain and a doomed ship. But we didn't know our man. In the gray of the morning, we heard the handspike rattle on the hatch, and we tumbled up one after the other. The captain was there, looking much as usual, but only paler.

'Man the windlass,' says he.

'We're going ashore, sir,' says Bartholomew firmly.

'How?' says the captain.

'In the boat,' says Bartholomew.

'Are you?' says Goss: 'look at her!' He had cut her adrift, and she was a mile off.

'And now,' says Goss, 'I was drunk last night, and frightened you--playing tricks with cards. Don't be fools; do your duty, and defy Davy Jones. If not'--And then he flung open his pea-coat, and we saw four of the brass-mounted pistols in his belt. But, mates, his one eye was worse than the four muzzles, and we slunk to our work, and obeyed him. The easterly breeze came fresh, and we were soon bowling away nor'ard. The captain stood long at the helm, and we gathered for'ard. 'We're lost!' said Bartholomew; 'we're lost men! We're bought and sold!'

'Answer to your names, mates,' says Bartholomew, who somehow took the lead. And so he called over the list till he came to the captain.

'Captain Goss?'

'Here,' says the captain's voice.

We now knew there was somebody behind him who was not one of the crew. It was too dark, however, to see distinctly, and Goss interrupted our view such as it was.

'Who is the man on the end of the mast, Captain Goss?' says Bartholomew.

'You might be old enough to guess that!' replied the captain, and his voice was husky-like, but quite clear; and it never trembled. 'Some men call him one thing, some another; and we of the sea call him Davy Jones.'

Mates, at that we clustered up together as well as we could, and fixing our eyes on what was passing at the other end of the mast, we hardly attended to the seas that broke over and over us. At last, we saw Captain Goss, by the light of the beds of bursting foam, fumbling for something in his breast.

'Is it a Bible you have there?' cried Bartholomew. The captain didn't answer, but pulled out the thing he was trying for; and we guessed somehow, for we could hardly see, that it was the greasy pack of cards.

'Double or quits!' he shouted, 'on all I've staked;' and in another instant there was one horrid, unearthly screech, like what we heard in the cabin before, and the mast, as it were, tipped the heel of it, the cross-trees rising many feet above the water. Whether or no it was the motion of the waves that had tossed it, no man can say; but when the mast rolled again with the next sea, the heel came up empty: Captain Goss and his companion were gone!

FOOTNOTES:

The smacks used to convey the fish from the traulers to the Thames are called 'carriers.'

PARTNERSHIP IN COMMANDITE.

It is a general prejudice, that a subject like the law of partnership is a matter for the legal profession only, or, at most, for the consideration of capitalists embarked in partnership business. But it is, in truth, a subject of great interest to the public at large, and especially to that valuable portion of the community who possess ability and character, and have a little property--but not much--at stake in the soundness of our institutions. This class have, however, of late begun to shew a visible interest in the subject--an interest which, had it existed earlier, might have prevented any of the anomalies of which we complain from increasing to their present excess.

The political economists have ever admitted the great influence of combined capital: they have pointed to many valuable operations, such as gas-works, water-works, railways, &c. which can be performed by combined capital, but are beyond the capacity of individual capitalists. They have also admitted the efficacy of a division or combination of labour; whether it be that of the mechanic, or of some higher grade, such as the designer and projector. The views of the older school of political economists would be in entire concurrence with anything that would facilitate such combinations, where several men with skill or money take their parts; as, for instance, where one is the buyer of raw materials, another keeps the accounts, another draws patterns, and another acts as salesman. On the other hand, some novel speculators go so much farther, that they would revolutionise society, and, by force, compel it to be organised into co-operative sections. It infers no sympathy with these wild schemes of destruction, and artificial reconstruction, to desire that our law should give facility for co-operation and combination--nay, that it should give to it every encouragement consistent with other interests, and with civil liberty.

But our law, unfortunately, instead of doing thus, has set heavy impediments in the way of co-operation; we might speak more strongly, and say, that it has prepared pitfalls, in which any person guilty of having joined in a co-operative scheme, may at once find himself overwhelmed, as a punishment for his offence. Invest part of your savings in a company in which you have reliance; assist a young man, of whose capacity and honesty you think well, by investing money in his business; and some day you may find yourself ruined for having done so.

Those readers who have turned any attention to this subject, will at once see that we refer to the law of unlimited responsibility in partnerships. Except when the company proceeds under an act of parliament, a charter, or patent, limiting the responsibility, every partner is responsible for the debts and obligations of the concern, to the last farthing he possesses. Very often, a young man of enterprise and ability, acting as manager, overseer, or in some other respectable capacity, receives a small share in the profits to encourage him to exertion: he has no control over the management: some leading man plunges, to serve himself, into dangerous speculations, and there is a bankruptcy. The young man has done nothing but good service all along to the partnership, and to its creditors, and all who have had dealings with it; yet, if he have saved a trifle, it is swept away with the effects of the real speculators. Take another case equally common: A young man commences business alone, or in company with others: they have intelligence, ability, and honesty, but little capital. A capitalist, who, perhaps, conducts some larger business of his own, might, ingrafting kindness on prudential considerations, be inclined to embark with them to a certain extent; but he finds, that instead of a prudential step, nothing could be more thoroughly imprudent. He will have to embark not only the small sum he destined for the purpose, but his whole fortune. Dealers who have transactions with the young partners, will know that a man of fortune is 'at their back,' as it is termed, and will give them credit and encouragement accordingly. Without being conscious of any dishonesty, the firm will be led to trade, not on the capital which their friend has advanced, but on the capital which he possesses. Of course, they do not intend that he should lose his fortune, any more than that they themselves should lose their business and pecuniary means. But these things happen against people's intentions and inclinations; and the friend who wished to aid them with a moderate and cautious advance, is ruined; while those who were giving reckless credit, and who encouraged dangerous speculations, are paid cent. per cent. It is the fear of such a consummation as this that generally makes the well-intending friend abstain from ultimately committing himself with those with whom he would have fain co-operated.

It is quite right that trading companies should not trade on false resources, and be able to laugh at their creditors by placing out of the reach of the law the funds with which they have speculated. Yet this can be done under the present system; and there is a class of men in the commercial world, banded together by peculiar ties and interests, who are said to accomplish it on a large and comprehensive scale. It is thus carried out: A penniless man starts in business, supplied with abundant capital by his friends: they may demand 6, 7, or 10 per cent. for the use of it; and if they manage, which they may, to avoid the residue of the law of usury, they are safe from the law of partnership. The new man, by his prompt payments and abundant command of capital, works himself into good credit. It is an understanding, that when he has been thus set afloat, the money advanced by his friends is to be gradually repaid. He is then left to swim or sink. If the former be his fate, it is well for all parties; if the latter, his friends will not be the sufferers: their capital is preserved, and they can play the same game over again, in some other place, with the hope of an equally happy result.

Here we have at least a precedent, which is of importance in a country like this, so truly conservative in the sense of adhering to anything that is fixed law or matter of traditional business routine. Now, in these concerns, where there is often so much wild speculation and mismanagement, no one is responsible beyond the subscribed stock; yet while we hear enough of the stockholders themselves losing their property, we seldom, scarcely ever, hear of the creditors who deal with them, in contracting for their works or otherwise, losing. The reason is, because the extent to which they can pay is known, and the people who deal with the company calculate accordingly. Unlimited liability existing in some indefinite parties, while it too often ruins these parties themselves, is a bait for that indefinite credit which produces their ruin, and sometimes leaves the careless creditor unpaid, even when he has taken the last farthing from the unfortunate partner.

We can even anticipate, from anything that will facilitate fruitful investment by the working-classes, a still wider--we might say, a political effect. The chief defect in our otherwise sound social system, is the want of fusion between the class of employers and employed. As some other countries are subject to the more serious evil of being without a middle-class between the aristocracy and the common people, so we want a sub-grade, as it were, between the middle and the working classes. It is too much the practice to consider them as separated from each other by interests, tastes, and feelings. It is, on the contrary, the real truth that their interests are indissolubly united; but if there were a less broad line separating them from each other, this would be more apparent. The true way to fill up the gap happily for all parties, is not for the middle-class to descend, but the working-class to rise. Nothing could better accomplish this, than imparting to them facilities for entering into business on a small scale on their own account. The hopelessness with which the workman looks at the position of the employer, as that of a great capitalist, would then be turned into hope and endeavour.

It is often said, that the operative classes shew an unfortunate indisposition to advance onwards, and abandon their uniform routine of toil: the answer to this is--try them. They have adopted the means at their command in other countries. Mr Davis, an American gentleman, gave the select committee an animated view of the ambitious workmen of the New England states, where, he said, 'nobody is contented with his present condition--everybody is struggling for something better.' Now, to be discontented with one's condition, in the shape of folding the arms, and abusing the fate that has not sent chance prosperity, is a bad thing; but the discontent--if such it can be justly called--which incites a man to rise in the world by honest exertions, is in every way a good thing. Mr Davis said, he has been told that, in Lowell, some of the young women hold stock in the mills in which they work. Imagine a factory-girl holding stock in a mill!

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