Chapter 14

HE CONTEMPLATES MAKING A SOCIAL CALL ON THE CAPTAIN IN HIS CABIN

What reminded me most forcibly of my ignominious condition, was the
widely altered manner of the captain toward me.

I had thought him a fine, funny gentleman, full of mirth and good humor,
and good will to seamen, and one who could not fail to appreciate the
difference between me and the rude sailors among whom I was thrown.
Indeed, I had made no doubt that he would in some special manner take me
under his protection, and prove a kind friend and benefactor to me; as I
had heard that some sea-captains are fathers to their crew; and so they
are; but such fathers as Solomon's precepts tend to make--severe and
chastising fathers, fathers whose sense of duty overcomes the sense of
love, and who every day, in some sort, play the part of Brutus, who
ordered his son away to execution, as I have read in our old family
Plutarch.

Yes, I thought that Captain Riga, for Riga was his name, would be
attentive and considerate to me, and strive to cheer me up, and comfort
me in my lonesomeness. I did not even deem it at all impossible that he
would invite me down into the cabin of a pleasant night, to ask me
questions concerning my parents, and prospects in life; besides
obtaining from me some anecdotes touching my great-uncle, the
illustrious senator; or give me a slate and pencil, and teach me
problems in navigation; or perhaps engage me at a game of chess. I even
thought he might invite me to dinner on a sunny Sunday, and help me
plentifully to the nice cabin fare, as knowing how distasteful the salt
beef and pork, and hard biscuit of the forecastle must at first be to a
boy like me, who had always lived ashore, and at home.

And I could not help regarding him with peculiar emotions, almost of
tenderness and love, as the last visible link in the chain of
associations which bound me to my home. For, while yet in port, I had
seen him and Mr. Jones, my brother's friend, standing together and
conversing; so that from the captain to my brother there was but one
intermediate step; and my brother and mother and sisters were one.

And this reminds me how often I used to pass by the places on deck,
where I remembered Mr. Jones had stood when we first visited the ship
lying at the wharf; and how I tried to convince myself that it was
indeed true, that he had stood there, though now the ship was so far
away on the wide Atlantic Ocean, and he perhaps was walking down
Wall-street, or sitting reading the newspaper in his counting room,
while poor I was so differently employed.

When two or three days had passed without the captain's speaking to me
in any way, or sending word into the forecastle that he wished me to
drop into the cabin to pay