- end_line
- 7428
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.842Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 7397
- text
- old man, and passed on, generally regardless of the neighboring
beggars.
The first morning I went ashore with my shipmates, some of them greeted
him as an old acquaintance; for that corner he had occupied for many
long years. He was an old man-of-war’s man, who had lost his leg at the
battle of Trafalgar; and singular to tell, he now exhibited his wooden
one as a genuine specimen of the oak timbers of Nelson’s ship, the
Victory.
Among the paupers were several who wore old sailor hats and jackets,
and claimed to be destitute tars; and on the strength of these
pretensions demanded help from their brethren; but Jack would see
through their disguise in a moment, and turn away, with no benediction.
As I daily passed through this lane of beggars, who thronged the docks
as the Hebrew cripples did the Pool of Bethesda, and as I thought of my
utter inability in any way to help them, I could not but offer up a
prayer, that some angel might descend, and turn the waters of the docks
into an elixir, that would heal all their woes, and make them, man and
woman, healthy and whole as their ancestors, Adam and Eve, in the
garden.
Adam and Eve! If indeed ye are yet alive and in heaven, may it be no
part of your immortality to look down upon the world ye have left. For
as all these sufferers and cripples are as much your family as young
Abel, so, to you, the sight of the world’s woes would be a parental
torment indeed.
- title
- Chunk 3