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- 1310
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- CHAPTER VII.
HE GETS TO SEA AND FEELS VERY BAD
Every thing at last being in readiness, the pilot came on board, and
all hands were called to up anchor. While I worked at my bar, I could
not help observing how haggard the men looked, and how much they
suffered from this violent exercise, after the terrific dissipation in
which they had been indulging ashore. But I soon learnt that sailors
breathe nothing about such things, but strive their best to appear all
alive and hearty, though it comes very hard for many of them.
The anchor being secured, a steam tug-boat with a strong name, the
Hercules, took hold of us; and away we went past the long line of
shipping, and wharves, and warehouses; and rounded the green south
point of the island where the Battery is, and passed Governor’s Island,
and pointed right out for the Narrows.
My heart was like lead, and I felt bad enough, Heaven knows; but then,
there was plenty of work to be done, which kept my thoughts from
becoming too much for me.
And I tried to think all the time, that I was going to England, and
that, before many months, I should have actually been there and home
again, telling my adventures to my brothers and sisters; and with what
delight they would listen, and how they would look up to me then, and
reverence my sayings; and how that even my elder brother would be
forced to treat me with great consideration, as having crossed the
Atlantic Ocean, which he had never done, and there was no probability
he ever would.
With such thoughts as these I endeavored to shake off my
heavy-heartedness; but it would not do at all; for this was only the
first day of the voyage, and many weeks, nay, several whole months must
elapse before the voyage was ended; and who could tell what might
happen to me; for when I looked up at the high, giddy masts, and
thought how often I must be going up and down them, I thought sure
enough that some luckless day or other, I would certainly fall
overboard and be drowned. And then, I thought of lying down at the
bottom of the sea, stark alone, with the great waves rolling over me,
and no one in the wide world knowing that I was there. And I thought
how much better and sweeter it must be, to be buried under the pleasant
hedge that bounded the sunny south side of our village grave-yard,
where every Sunday I had used to walk after church in the afternoon;
and I almost wished I was there now; yes, dead and buried in that
churchyard. All the time my eyes were filled with tears, and I kept
holding my breath, to choke down the sobs, for indeed I could not help
feeling as I did, and no doubt any boy in the world would have felt
just as I did then.
As the steamer carried us further and further down the bay, and we
passed ships lying at anchor, with men gazing at us and waving their
hats; and small boats with ladies in them waving their handkerchiefs;
and passed the green shore of Staten Island, and caught sight of so
many beautiful cottages all overrun with vines, and planted on the
beautiful fresh mossy hill-sides; oh! then I would have given any thing
if instead of sailing _out of_ the bay, we were only coming _into_ it;
if we had crossed the ocean and returned, gone over and come back; and
my heart leaped up in me like something alive when I thought of really
entering that bay at the end of the voyage. But that was so far
distant, that it seemed it could never be. No, never, never more would
I see New York again.
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