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Updated: June 5, 2025
Then we said goodbye to our sisters and the little ones, and it was exactly like a picture of the "Tar's Farewell," because we had bundles, with things to eat tied up in blue checked handkerchiefs, and we said goodbye to them at the gate, and they would kiss us. Dora said, "Goodbye, I know you'll be drowned. I hope you'll enjoy yourselves, I'm sure!"
The fourth man of Hamp's company stood out a little, but half an hour's rhodomantade and another bowl of punch brought him to a sailor, upon which one of the seamen stepped out, and gave notice to his lieutenant, who was drinking not far off, of the great service he had performed, the lieutenant was mightily pleased with Jack Tar's diligence, promised to pay the reckoning, and give each of them a guinea besides.
"You must have shipped a good lot of water, your honour," said Jack Tiller. "That I did." "More water than your honour has ever took since." Mr. Mole half smelt a lurking sarcasm in this, but the honest tar's face showed no signs of slyness. The only evidence of it being a dig at Mr. Mole's well-known weakness for strong waters was to be found in the merry twinkling of the listeners' eyes.
Within fifteen minutes the craft were surrounded by small boats from shore. Some of these contained merchandise that it was hoped sailors would buy. Other boats "ran" for hotels, restaurants, drinking places, amusement halls, and all the varied places on shore that hope to fatten on Jack Tar's money. "I'd like to go ashore, sir," announced Sam Truax, approaching Captain Jack. "When?" "Now."
When at last the officer lowered his telescope, Adrian came forward and saluted him with a slight bow, all unconsciously as unlike the average Jack Tar's scrape to his superior as can be well imagined: "Am I not," he asked, "addressing in you, sir, one of the Cochranes of the Shaws?" The question and the tone from a common sailor were, of course, enough to astonish the young man.
MY DEAR FRIEND, Do you remember when we were walking once in Weston, that we saw the carpenter putting sheets of tarred paper under the clapboarding of a house? I want you to ask your father if he thinks that a good plan; if he knows of any ill effect, as, for instance, there being a smell of tar about the house, or the tar's running down between the clapboards.
"O Gawd," he was saying, "we're a-going to sink, and I carn't swim! The blarsted tar's give way back here." "Is she leaking?" I cried. "She's a-filling up like a bath tub," he lamented.
He had a good baritone voice, and entered with zest into the mad spirit of the frolic. The song he chose was redolent of the sea. It related a tar's escapades among witches, cruisers, and girls. Three of the latter claimed him at one and the same time so "What was a sailor-boy to do? Yeo-ho, Yeo-ho, Yeo-ho!"
Then comes the Champagne lunch where everyone says all that is polite to everyone else, and then the uncertainty when to start. So far as we know NOW, we are to start to-morrow morning at daybreak; letters that come later are to be sent to Pernambuco by first mail. . . . My father has sent me the heartiest sort of Jack Tar's cheer.
"My cooking amuses you?" she demanded suspiciously. "It gratifies every sense," he murmured. "There is but one thing needful to complete my happiness." "And that is?" "Permission to smoke." "Smoke what?" He produced a steel box, tightly closed, and a pipe, "I will answer you in Byron's words," he said "'Sublime tobacco! which from east to west Cheers the tar's labour or the Turkman's rest."
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