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Updated: June 11, 2025
By eight in the morning, just as the light began creeping, and Jacka was calculating his whereabouts, he lifted his eye over the weather-bow, and "Hullo!" he sings out. "What's yonder to windward?" The lad he'd relieved jumps up from where he'd been napping beside the bitts, and runs forward.
Zephaniah Job, who looked after these affairs in Polperro free-trade and privateering both started a second company called the "Pride of the West," and put Captain Jacka to command their first ship, the old Pride lugger; a very good choice, seeing that for three years together he cleared over forty per cent. on the adventurers' capital.
About four in the afternoon Cap'n Dick, not liking the look of the weather at all, and knowing that, so long as it lasted, he might whistle for prizes, changed his mind and determined to run back to Polperro, so as to re-ship Cap'n Jacka and the prize crew almost as soon as they arrived.
I believe Captain Jacka twinkled back on Mr. Job as he twinkled on the rest of the world, willing to be friends and search for the best side of everyone, if he might be allowed. But Mr. Job couldn't be sure of this, and I'm fain to admit the old boy was a trial to him, with his easy-going ways.
Down in the lazarette Jacka had scarcely finished prising the cork out of his bottle of Hollands when he heard the bang of a gun. This was the lugger's command to round-to and surrender; and the old boy, who had been vexing himself with fear that some cruiser might drop in and spoil sport, put the bottle to his mouth and drank Mr. Job's very good health.
"There was to be no 'nigh enough' on this lugger" that was the sort of talk; and oil and rotten-stone for the very gun-swivels. But Jacka knew the fellow, and even admired the great figure and its loud ways. "He's a cap'n, anyhow," he told his wife; "'twon't be 'all fellows to football' while he's in command. And I've seen him handle the Good Intent, under Hockin." Mrs. Tackabird said nothing.
Even John-Willy Jacka goes after him now, that used to be a youngster with me.... You can go home if you like." "Don't be a greater ass than you can help," advised Killigrew genially, and the two set off together for the point where the light had just flickered and gone out, as though the slide had been drawn over the lantern, if lantern it were.
Well that's one story and this is another. I'm telling now of the second boat, when Captain Jacka, or, as you might say, Providence for what happened was none of his seeking, and the old boy acted throughout as innocent as a sucking-child left off shaming the company as honest men, and hit them slap in their pockets, where they could feel. The bottom of the quarrel was that Mr.
So Bassett was avenged. Yes, a heap of folks have admired that teapot. Hundreds of pounds we must have been offered for it, first and last, since the night my wife's grandfather, Captain John Tackabird or Cap'n Jacka, as he was always called brought it into the family over the back-garden wall, and his funny little wife went for him with the broom-handle.
Rogers, stroking his chin and looking sideways, "that these licences have their market-price, and that in Amsterdam just now it's seven hundred rix-dollars." "Well-a-well, if the Board of Trade's satisfied," says Jacka, "it's not for the likes of me to object. But if I was a Christian ruler I should think twice afore invitin' such a deal of hard swearin'."
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