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Updated: June 17, 2025
Joel received this taunt in silence, and, burying his head in his hands, tackled the story of Cyrus the Younger. Joel had already come to a decision regarding Richard Sproule, a decision far from flattering to that youth.
Whenever I could I attached myself to Captain Sproule like a lost dog, not thinking that perhaps he would not care to be tagged around by a child like me; and thus I saw things that should not have been seen by a boy, or by any one else things that I never forgot, and that afterward had an influence on me at a critical time in my life.
This is the reason why I used to have such fearful crises once in a while in my dumb life, as when I was treated so kindly by Captain Sproule just after my stepfather whipped me; or when I nearly killed Ace, my fellow-driver, on the canal in my first and successful rebellion; or when I used to grow white, and cry like a baby in my fights with rival drivers.
Finally I always did the thing, if after long study it seemed the right thing to do, or if some one else had not done it in the meantime; just as I finally told Captain Sproule that I expected to work on a passenger boat the next summer, and was told by him that he had sold his boat to a company, and was to be a passenger-boat captain himself the next summer; and would sign me on if I wanted to stay with him which I did.
A man offered me a bottle of this at Rochester, for five dollars, and finally came down to fifty cents. This made me think it was of no use, and I did not buy, though just before I had been wondering whether I had not better borrow the money of Captain Sproule; so I saved my money, which was getting to be a habit of mine.
Richard Sproule, as West had suggested rather more forcibly than politely, was becoming more and more objectionable, and Joel was not a bit grieved at the prospect of leaving him. Of late, intercourse between the roommates had become reduced to rare monosyllables. This was the outcome of a refusal on Joel's part to give a portion of his precious study time to helping Sproule with his lessons.
"I'll report you for this, Outfield West!" howled Sproule through the door, in a passion of resentment. "Report away," answered West mockingly. "And if I miss my Latin I'll tell why, too!" "Well, you'll miss it all right enough, unless you've changed mightily. But, here, I'll shy your book through the transom."
One evening, in a water-front saloon, Captain Sproule and another man a fellow who was a shipper of freight, as I remember spent an hour or so with two women whose bad language and painted faces would have told their story to any older person; but to me they were just acquaintances of the captain, and that was all.
But I've got to keep in bounds all term, and can't go on the river again until I learn how to swim." "Shouldn't think you'd want to," answered Sproule. "Are you still on probation, March?" asked Clausen. "Yes, and it doesn't look as though I'd ever get off. If I could find out who cut that rope I'd I'd " "Well, I must be going back," exclaimed Clausen hurriedly.
There were preachers among our passengers, but most of them were going west. On almost every voyage there would be a minister or missionary who would ask to have the privilege of holding prayer on the boat; and Captain Sproule always permitted it. The ministers, too, were among those who hunted up the singers in the crowds and organized the song services from the Carmina Sacra.
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