Thus, for one year, my mind was set at ease, yet it was already
six months from the date of the letter, and what another year
would bring to pass who could tell? Every one away from home
thinks that some great thing must have happened, while to those at
home there seems to be a continued monotony and lack of incident.
As much as my feelings were taken up by my own news from home, I
could not but be amused by a scene in the steerage. The carpenter
had been married just before leaving Boston, and during the voyage
had talked much about his wife, and had to bear and forbear, as
every man, known to be married, must, aboard ship; yet the
certainty of hearing from his wife by the first ship seemed to
keep up his spirits. The California came, the packet was brought
on board, no one was in higher spirits than he; but when the
letters came forward, there was none for him. The captain looked
again, but there was no mistake. Poor ``Chips'' could eat no
supper. He was completely down in the mouth. ``Sails'' (the
sailmaker) tried to comfort him, and told him he was a bloody fool
to give up his grub for any woman's daughter, and reminded him
that he had told him a dozen times that he'd never see or hear
from his wife again.
Pages:
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449