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- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z
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- 749
- text
- CHAPTER IV.
HOW HE DISPOSED OF HIS FOWLING-PIECE
Next day I went alone to the shipping office to sign the articles, and
there I met a great crowd of sailors, who as soon as they found what I
was after, began to tip the wink all round, and I overheard a fellow in
a great flapping sou’wester cap say to another old tar in a shaggy
monkey-jacket, “Twig his coat, d’ye see the buttons, that chap ain’t
going to sea in a merchantman, he’s going to shoot whales. I say,
maty—look here—how d’ye sell them big buttons by the pound?”
“Give us one for a saucer, will ye?” said another.
“Let the youngster alone,” said a third. “Come here, my little boy, has
your ma put up some sweetmeats for ye to take to sea?”
They are all witty dogs, thought I to myself, trying to make the best
of the matter, for I saw it would not do to resent what they said; they
can’t mean any harm, though they are certainly very impudent; so I
tried to laugh off their banter, but as soon as ever I could, I put
down my name and beat a retreat.
On the morrow, the ship was advertised to sail. So the rest of that day
I spent in preparations. After in vain trying to sell my fowling-piece
for a fair price to chance customers, I was walking up Chatham-street
with it, when a curly-headed little man with a dark oily face, and a
hooked nose, like the pictures of Judas Iscariot, called to me from a
strange-looking shop, with three gilded balls hanging over it.
With a peculiar accent, as if he had been over-eating himself with
Indian-pudding or some other plushy compound, this curly-headed little
man very civilly invited me into his shop; and making a polite bow, and
bidding me many unnecessary good mornings, and remarking upon the fine
weather, begged me to let him look at my fowling-piece. I handed it to
him in an instant, glad of the chance of disposing of it, and told him
that was just what I wanted.
“Ah!” said he, with his Indian-pudding accent again, which I will not
try to mimic, and abating his look of eagerness, “I thought it was a
better article, it’s very old.”
“Not,” said I, starting in surprise, “it’s not been used more than
three times; what will you give for it?”
“We don’t _buy_ any thing here,” said he, suddenly looking very
indifferent, “this is a place where people _pawn_ things.” _Pawn_ being
a word I had never heard before, I asked him what it meant; when he
replied, that when people wanted any money, they came to him with their
fowling-pieces, and got one third its value, and then left the
fowling-piece there, until they were able to pay back the money.
What a benevolent little old man, this must be, thought I, and how very
obliging.
“And pray,” said I, “how much will you let me have for my gun, by way
of a pawn?”
“Well, I suppose it’s worth six dollars, and seeing you’re a boy, I’ll
let you have three dollars upon it”
“No,” exclaimed I, seizing the fowling-piece, “it’s worth five times
that, I’ll go somewhere else.”
“Good morning, then,” said he, “I hope you’ll do better,” and he bowed
me out as if he expected to see me again pretty soon.
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