G
SEMI-MONTHLY MAGAZINE
THREE3HEETS
WMCKGAN P0BERX5
1LLU5TRKIION5 C
UlE MOST CONVINCING lecture or
lesson on morals is the one delivered
by nu immoral, or unmoral, person. I
learned this early in life, when, with a
crowd of oilier youngsters, 1 was try
ing lo drown a half-grown puppv.
We would have succeeded ; hut alone;
camo a train) a rugged, dirty, black-bearded
derelict who watched us a moment, then gave ut
terance to a villainous Hood of billingsgate. I can
not writo down the names he called us, nor the ad
jectives with which he qualified the names; hut his
concluding speech, expurgate!, ran something like
this: "Any man or hoy, who will illtreat a dumb and
defenseless animal that can't talk back and explain
matters, is mean, that 's all just mean, lie 's mean
enough to steal the cross olT a donkey's back."
Then, still storming at us, he reeled on his way,
while we rescued the half dead creature and nursed
it back to life. Later, we found it a home, and be
came an unorganized, unollicial Ilumnne Society.
Wo lied, stole, tickled the devil and played truant as
before, but were a menace to other boys who, with the
savageiy of children, found pleasure in cruelty. The
tramp's auger and disgust had done more for us
than the behests of father, mother or Sunday school
teacher.
With pity for dumb brutes my one moral quality,
I grew up and went to sen, where morals are not
taught where nothing is taught or acquired but
seamanship, navi-
ga t ion anil an
iron-clad stamina
a n d endurance.
These attributes
came to me in
time, as well as a
mate's certificate;
but in all else 1 re
mained at a stand
still, or went hack
ward. Sailors are
children, it is said,
and like all sail
ors, even when I
be rt bed aft, 1
grumbled, u a r
reled, swore and
drank, with no re
straining inllueuce
or principle to
curb me until I re
ceived my second
lesson in morals
or ethics, if you
liko a u d this
time from a man I
despised as heart
ily as a I might
have despised tho
tramp had he not
impressed me. Af
terward I received
other tutelage, and
the superiority in size and strength possessed by the
tramp, so my protest wns ignored, and the shark,
alive and uninjured, went overboard with a small spar
lashed athwart its mouth, to die of starvation. Later,
however, having attained my growth, strength and
chest measurement, 1 met Kdwards in a Rangoon
boarding-house, and thrashed him within an inch of
his life. Then we had gone our separate ways he
to the hospital, I to jail not to meet again until
Frisco Frank, a Honolulu boarding master, having
taken my last cent for bed, board and bar, turned me
out without my dunnage, without another boarding
house to take me in, and without a ship in port to
sign in. It was then, sitting on a string piece of the
wharf, staring at the water with aching eyes while 1
nursed an aching head, that Kdwards approached
from behind mo and, stooping over my shoulder,
peered into my face.
"It's you, .Jack," he said, not unkindly. "Heard
you were in port ; hut what 's the matter? Lost vour
mother?"
tt
"N the beach," I answered, bitterlv. T did not
-J welcome his presence, hut in my extremity I
would have talked with a coolie. "Fired out when
I 'd blown my last cent ; and his bill was big enough
to give him an excuse to hold my clothes."
"Frisco Frank, hey! He can't hold a sailor's
clothes. Don't you know that .'"
"Yes, but 1 don't care to fall hack on sailor's rights.
I.t l -J Tl I I I l..-t.tt
'I want no cat aboard. They're bad luck'
dually became Ihe civilized commander of n passen
ger steamship; hut my Inter development has no place
in this story, which is concerned only with that sec
ond lecture and the events which followed events
thnt made me a teetotaler for life.
This lecture camo from Hill Kdwards who, as sec
ond mate of my first ship, had kicked me off the poop
and hazed me for the whole voyage because 1 had
dared raise my voice in boyij.lt protest at bis "sprit-sail-ynrding"
of a shark that he had caught with a
lino and pulled aboard. 1 linked the vocabulary and
1 'vo had papers too long," I sneered ill-naturedly.
"You came in first mate of the Century, I heard.
Discharged?"
"Quit, if it 's any of your business," I answered,
savagely. "Did n't like her."
"Oh, don't get wratby ! I 'm not looking for scraps,
for I know you can lick me. Hut I 'm older than you,
and never having held any grudge, I feel liko telling
you something. You did n't quit that big ship he
cause you did n't like her. You had a good berth, a
good skipper, and good prospects. What you quit
for was a run ashore, and a big drunk. You 've had
them, and now you 're paying."
"You 're a fine preacher," I rejoined.
"I'm not preaching that is, about right and
wrong. It 's the dainfooli.shness of it. I 've been
called all kinds of a scoundrel; but no man ever
called me a fool, even though 1 can just write my
nnine and can't read it in print. No man ever saw
me drunk. In all my life I never spent as much as a
dollar over a bar. 1 know the taste of the stuff and
don't like it. Do you like it ?"
"No." I answered, dubiously. "Can't say that I do.
It 's the stimulation 1 like."
"Dutch courage, that lasts about fifteen minutes,
then needs replenishing. Then you 're sleepy or quar
relsome, according to your liver in either case in
danger of robbery or arrest. Who benefits, any way ?
The men behind the bar, but they don't drink. Did
you ever see a saloonkeeper or bartender drunk7''
"I 've seen them drink," I replied, doggedly.
"Yes, for sociability or business, and then tho
smallest drink possible. It 's the dam fools in front
of the bar that take all they can decently get into a
glass, and then some more. And think of the cost at
the end of a year. Why, the price of one drink will
buy three loaves of bread, and three loaves of bread
will keep a big man alive three days. That 's the
foolishness of it. Poverty all over the world and
saloon keepers getting rich. Frisco Frank has his
house and horses. Where s yours?"
"Oh, shut up! I 've got what he has n't got."
"An education and a mate's license. What does ho
want of them? He has brains anil money ' nil your
money. I tell you, if it was n't for the bar, boarding
masters would go out of business and Fo'castle .lack
could ship where he likes on his own terms. If all
men would swear off, saloon keepers, bartenders, and
every man connected with making or selling the stun"
would take to tho ground and grow something that
could be eaten. As it is, more grain goes into the
making of booze than of bread. Dead broke?"
I nodded.
"I 'in not, even though I never hail your chance, not
basing any schooling. 1 never signed above second
mate because 1 couldn't learn navigation. Hut I 've
juniyed above first mate and skipper. I 'in an owner
I employ skippers and mates."
1 looked at him in surprise. Ho certainly was well
dressed.
"I 've made money,'' he went on. "Never mind
how. 1 'vo made it, and taken a Chinese partner with
more. We bought a schooner from tho underwriters,
patched her up, and mean to make some more money
with her. She's up at the Carriage Drive. I go out
skipper, for 1 can handle her; but I want a licensed
sailing master with papers to satisfy tho law. You 'vo
got 'em. Want the berth?"
"Want a drink more than anything else," I an
swered, abandonedly.
V"OU want your breakfast more than anything
A else, I take it. But if you '11 ship with mo I '11
buy you a drink of Frisco's grog to steady you, and
get your clothes, but thero '11 be no advance; I 'in too
short. We can get aboard just in time for dinner,
which will be breakfast for you. I Ml give you an
other bracer at five o'clock, and that will end'it. Wo
sail to Yokohama in ballast for a cargo to Frisco.
And remember, in port I am managing owner and
you are skipper; but at sea I 'm skipper and you 're
mate. Y'ou are to navigate, keep the log correctly,
and oversee the accounts and ship's papers. What
do you say?"
"I '11 go you," I said, rising. "Any port in a storm."
"You mean any ship in (Continued on Page t)
