eem strange to some who don't know much about human
nature, that I, a lad decently brought up by good, religious people, and
fairly educated, should have willingly submitted to live along with such
people. At first I was startled,--I won't say shocked,--but then I
thought it fine and manly, and soon got not only accustomed to hear such
language, but to use it with perfect indifference myself.

We are all of us more apt to learn what is bad than what is good I have
mentioned Captain Tooke and our first mate. We had a second mate, old
Tom Cole by name. He was close upon sixty years of age. He had been at
sea all his life, and had been master of more than one vessel, but lost
them through drunkenness, till he got such a name that no owners would
entrust him with the command of another. He was a good seaman and a
fair navigator, and when he was sober there wasn't a better man in the
ship. He had been to sea as first mate, but lost the berth through his
besetting sin. I believe Captain Tooke engaged him from having known
him when he himself was a young man, and from believing that he could
keep him sober. He succeeded pretty well, but not always; and more than
once, in consequence of old Cole's neglect of his duty, we very nearly
lost our lives, as many lives have been lost before and since. The two
mates messed with the captain, but the apprentices lived entirely with
the men forward. Besides Charles Iffley, there was another, Jacob La
Motte, a Guernsey lad. He was a far more quiet and steady fellow than
either of us. In my wiser moments I learned to like him better than
Iffley; and perhaps because I was better educated than most of the men,
and, except when led away by bad example, more inclined to be rational,
he associated more with me than with them. The best educated and the
most steady among the hands forward was a young man, Edward Seton. He
was very well-mannered and neat in his person, and I never heard him
giving way to profane swearing or any other gross conduct, and he tried,
but in vain to check those who indulged in it.

I had not been long at sea, though time enough to have any pride I might
have possessed knocked out of me, when I was accosted by old Ned
Toggles, one of the roughest of the rough hands on board, and generally
considered the wit of the crew, with, "And what's your name, youngster?
Did any one ever think it worth while to give one to such a shrimp as
you?"

"Yes," said I, firing