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- 2965
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 2907
- text
- from my cousin’s, who was a young man of fortune and drove a tilbury.
When my pantaloons ripped and tore, as I have said, I did my best to
mend and patch them; but not being much of a sempstress, the more I
patched the more they parted; because I put my patches on, without
heeding the joints of the legs, which only irritated my poor pants the
more, and put them out of temper.
Nor must I forget my boots, which were almost new when I left home.
They had been my Sunday boots, and fitted me to a charm. I never had
had a pair of boots that I liked better; I used to turn my toes out
when I walked in them, unless it was night time, when no one could see
me, and I had something else to think of; and I used to keep looking at
them during church; so that I lost a good deal of the sermon. In a
word, they were a beautiful pair of boots. But all this only unfitted
them the more for sea-service; as I soon discovered. They had very high
heels, which were all the time tripping me in the rigging, and several
times came near pitching me overboard; and the salt water made them
shrink in such a manner, that they pinched me terribly about the
instep; and I was obliged to gash them cruelly, which went to my very
heart. The legs were quite long, coming a good way up toward my knees,
and the edges were mounted with red morocco. The sailors used to call
them my _“gaff-topsail-boots.”_ And sometimes they used to call me
“Boots,” and sometimes “Buttons,” on account of the ornaments on my
pantaloons and shooting-jacket.
At last, I took their advice, and _“razeed”_ them, as they phrased it.
That is, I amputated the legs, and shaved off the heels to the bare
soles; which, however, did not much improve them, for it made my feet
feel flat as flounders, and besides, brought me down in the world, and
made me slip and slide about the decks, as I used to at home, when I
wore straps on the ice.
As for my tarpaulin hat, it was a very cheap one; and therefore proved
a real sham and shave; it leaked like an old shingle roof; and in a
rain storm, kept my hair wet and disagreeable. Besides, from lying down
on deck in it, during the night watches, it got bruised and battered,
and lost all its beauty; so that it was unprofitable every way.
But I had almost forgotten my shooting-jacket, which was made of
moleskin. Every day, it grew smaller and smaller, particularly after a
rain, until at last I thought it would completely exhale, and leave
nothing but the bare seams, by way of a skeleton, on my back. It became
unspeakably unpleasant, when we got into rather cold weather, crossing
the Banks of Newfoundland, when the only way I had to keep warm during
the night, was to pull on my waistcoat and my roundabout, and then clap
the shooting-jacket over all. This made it pinch me under the arms, and
it vexed, irritated, and tormented me every way; and used to incommode
my arms seriously when I was pulling the ropes; so much so, that the
mate asked me once if I had the cramp.
I may as well here glance at some trials and tribulations of a similar
kind. I had no mattress, or bed-clothes, of any sort; for the thought
of them had never entered my mind before going to sea; so that I was
obliged to sleep on the bare boards of my bunk; and when the ship
pitched violently, and almost stood upon end, I must have looked like
an Indian baby tied to a plank, and hung up against a tree like a
crucifix.
- title
- Chunk 2