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CHAPTER IV.

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James still longs for the Sea.—Experience with a Drunken Captain.—Change of Base.—Life on the Canal.

James went on with his work at home, attending school in the winter, reading whatever books he could find, and taking odd jobs in carpentry to add to the family income.

His heart, however, was still on the sea.

At last he said to his mother:

"If I should be captain of a ship some day, you wouldn't mind that, would you?"

Now Mrs. Garfield, like a wise mother, had been studying her restless boy and was not unprepared for this returning desire on his part "to follow the sea."

"You might try a trip on Lake Erie," she replied, "and see how you like it; but if you want to be 'somebody,' as you say, I would look higher than to a sea-captain's position."

James hardly heard his mother's last words, so delighted was he to have this unexpected permission.

He packed up his things as quickly as possible and walked the whole distance to Cleveland.

Boarding the first schooner he found lying at the wharf, he asked one of the crew if there was any chance for another hand on board.

"If you can wait a little," was the answer, "the captain will soon be up from the hold."

James had a very exalted idea of this important personage; he expected to see a fine, noble-looking man such as he had read about in his books.

Suddenly, he heard a fearful noise below, followed by terrible oaths. Stepping aside to let the drunken man pass him, he was greeted by the gruff question—

"What d'yer want here, yer green land-lubber, yer?"

"I was waiting to see the captain," replied James.

"Wall, don't yer know him when yer do see him?" he shouted. "Get off my ship, I tell yer, double quick!" James needed no second invitation. Could this besotted brute be a specimen of the monarchs of the sea? The boy was so shocked and disgusted that he made no further effort to find a place on board ship. He began to think his story-books might be a little different from the reality in other things as well as captains!

Wandering through the city, he came to the canal which at that time was a great thoroughfare between Lake Erie and the Ohio river. One of the boats, called the "Evening Star," was tied to the bank, and James was greatly surprised to find that the captain of it was a cousin of his, Amos Letcher.

"Well, James, what are you doing here?" said the canal-boat captain.

"Hunting for work," replied the boy.

"What kind of work do you want?"

"Anything to make a living. I came here to ship on the lake, but they bluffed me off and called me a country greenhorn."

"You'd better try your hand on smaller waters first," said his cousin; "I should like to have you work for me, but I've nothing better to offer you than a driver's berth at twelve dollars a month."

"I must do something," answered James, "and if that is the best you can offer me, I'll take the team."

"It was imagination that took me upon the canal," he said, years after; and it is easy to see how fascinating the trips from Cleveland to Pittsburgh seemed at that time to the inquiring boy.

The "Evening Star" had a capacity of seventy tons, and it was manned, as most of the canal-boats were, with two steersmen, two drivers, a bowsman, and a cook. The bowsman stood in the forward part of the boat, made ready the locks, and threw the bow-line around the snubbing-post. The drivers had two mules each, which were driven tandem, and, after serving a number of hours on the tow-path, they took turns in going on board with their mules.

On the Tow-Path.

James had hardly taken his place behind "Kit and Nance," as his team was called, when he heard the captain call out—

"Careful, Jim, there's a boat coming." The boy had seen it, and was trying to pass it to the best of his ability. But his inexperience and haste occasioned a sudden tightening of the reins, and, before any one quite knew what had happened, both driver and mules were jerked into the canal. For a few seconds it seemed as if they would go to the bottom, but James was equal to the emergency, and, getting astride the forward mule, kept his head above water until rescue came. This was his initiation in canal-boat driving, and the adventure was a standing joke among his comrades for a long time.

When they came to the "Eleven-Mile Lock," the captain ordered a change of teams, and James went on board with his mules.

Letcher, who is still living in Bryan, Ohio, gives the following account of his talk with the boy as they were passing the locks:

"I thought I'd sound Jim on education—in the rudiments of geography, arithmetic and grammar. For I was just green enough in those days to imagine I knew it all. I had been teaching school for three months in the backwoods of Steuben County, Indiana. So I asked him several questions, and he answered them all; and then he asked me several that I could not answer. I told him he had too good a head to be a common canal-hand."

One evening when the "Evening Star" was drawing near the twenty-one locks of Akron, the captain sent his bowsman to make the first lock ready. Just as he got there, a voice hailed him through the darkness. It was from a boat above that had reached the locks first.

"We are just around the bend," said her bowsman, "all ready to enter."

"Can't help it!" shouted the bowsman of the "Evening Star," with a volley of oaths; "we've got to hev this lock first!"

The captain was so used to these contests on the canal that he did not often interfere, but it was a new experience to James. He tapped his cousin Amos on the shoulder, and said—

"Does that lock belong to us?"

"Well, I suppose not, according to law," was the answer, "but we will have it, anyhow."

"No! we will not!" he exclaimed.

"But why?" said the captain.

"Why?" he repeated, "because it don't belong to us."

Struck with the boy's sense of right, and ashamed of his own carelessness, the captain called out to his men—

"Hold on, hold on! Let them have the lock."

When the boatmen knew that their fight had been prevented by James's interference they were greatly incensed, and began to call him "coward" and all sorts of derogatory names.

The boy only smiled; he knew he could vindicate his rights when the time came, and it was not long before he had an opportunity.

The boat had just reached Beaver, and James was on deck with his setting-pole against his shoulder; a sudden lurch wrenched it from him and threw it upon one of the boat-hands, who was standing close by.

"Beg pardon, Dave," said the boy quickly; "it was an accident."

The great, rough man, however, would take no apology, and rushed upon James with clenched fists. A fight seemed inevitable, but with one well-directed blow, the boy of sixteen threw down his burly antagonist, and held him fast.

"Pound him, James! Give him a good thrashing!" exclaimed the captain.

"Not when he is down and in my power," said the boy. Then, letting his conquered foe rise, he said—

"Come, Dave, give us your hand!" and from that time forth they were the best of friends.

"He's dif'rent from the rest on us—that's sartin—but he's a good un, got a mighty sight o'pluck," said the whole crew.

The Life and Public Services of James A. Garfield

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