Rensselaer Union, Volume 10, Number 34, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 May 1878 — A WHARF RAT. [ARTICLE]

A WHARF RAT.

He was a levee “Rat,” and his name was Dick. As a child he managed somehow to escape the massacres of want, neglect and disease in great cities; and we find him a small boy twelve years old, living where he may, eating what he can get; his hand against everything (that will sell at a_junk store), and every one’s against him., A human rat—a thing to hide itself in dark places, and to be chased and worried when it ventures into the light. The levee which Dick infests is that of New Orleans; down by the foot of Jackson street, where the English steamers lie, is his happy hunting ground, and on the day when we make his acquaintance, jt is not very productive. The hunting has all been on one side, and how Dick is discovered hiding between two bales of cotton is the query. He is kicked, pushed, dragged, jostled backward and forward by the stevedore’s men, like a ragged shuttlecock, every one has a curse and a blow for the “Rat,” with whom things are going hard, when—“Oh, how shameful to beat that poor boy so!” exclaimed a soft voice with a ring of genuine indignation in it. The speaker is a lady, clad in crisp, cool muslin —a lady, beautiful in face and form.

“Oh,’’-she exclaimed, “how-shame-ful to treat that poor child so! Do, please, Capt. Gilbert,' make them let him alone?’ Capt. Gilliert, whose guest she is, and who leads her up the stage, shouts: “Halloa! quit that! Let the boy go, and get on with your work.” Dick—who, unable to dodge his tormentors, has emulated the example of a hedge-hog, and.made himself as nearly spherical as possible against a cjtton bale—does not rise. The foe has not sufficiently retreated, but he keeps a bright lookout from the corner of one eye, so ds to be ready for a jump. “ They have hurt him,” said the lady. “He can’t get up, poor little fellow!” and before anyone can interfere, she trips down the stage and is stooping over the “ Rat,” who is so taken aback by: the apparition that he forgets to jump, and rolls over straight. His plight, when it appears that no bones are broken—makes the lady smile. He has been kicked into a coal-heap, and is black. He has been cuffed against a lot of oil-cake, and is russet brown. He is fluffy all over with cotton waste. His mouth is open and his eyes are wild with astonishment. He had never been so near to a lady, and don’t know what will be done with him. “ Come, get up,” says the Captain, “ there’s nothing the matter with you.” “Can you rise?” asks the lady, and she touches him with the most wonderful thing Dick ever saw—hen hand! The creamy glove upon it. the shimmer of lace and glitter of gold at the wrist, and the soft, white flesh beyond; never Jiad he felt such a touch, or been spoken to in such a tone

"Oh, ain’t I in for it, now,” he muses, and then he looks up into the lady’s face. There was no chance for a bolt now. The lady, the gentleman who came with her, the Captain of the steamer, and its chief officer formed a semicircle in front; behind was the bale .of cotton against which he had rolled himself for protection. He sits up, drinking in that strange expression which at once scares, puzzles and pleases him,. tills sortof sleepy, faint feeling makes him close his eyes. “ He’s going to faint,” says the lady. “ I knew lie was hurt Oh, see how he is bleeding.” He is bleeding badly. Big drops are trickling fast down jiis ragged sleeve, which will soak no more. These come from an ugly tear (caused by a nail in the wharf planking) on his arm, just above the elbow.

“ Don’t look, Mrs. Austen,” says the Captain; "I’ll have him attended to. Ho, Quartermaster! come and carry this boy on board, and give my compliments to the doctor, and ask him to plaster up this cut.” Dick has no power to resist. He is carried on board, muttering, “ Come, I ain’t done nothing to you. A cold lunch is served underthe awning on the main deck. Two other ladies, with their escorts, arrive, but the meal is delayed by the appearance of some of the crew, bearing squat, heavy boxes, which jingle as they are lowered through a trap-door in the deck, partly under the lunch table"Mexican dollars,’’ explains the Captain. • ( “ What a lot of money!” the lady remarked. ' “ Not so much as yon suppose, but a tidy sum. Each box contains $2,000 and there are fourteen of them—eh Mr. This to the officer in charge, who confirms the count. They haVe got to their first glass of champagne, when the doctor joins them. * “Well, how’s your patient?” asks the Captain. “ All right, and elean for once in his life, but rather weak,” is the medical report upon the Bat “Poor child,” sighs the lady, "what ought he to take?” "I should prescribe something to eat,” the doctor replies, helping himself to 3 slice of tongue. - , ,i •

I “Captain, I should like tonite Aim some dinner.” It Is unnecessary to say who speaks, and the skipper Would indeed have been a stern man if he could have resisted the pleading of those kind brown eyes. The Quartermaster is summoned again, and appears, leading Dick. It has begun to dawn upon him that he Is not going to be abused.* , “What is your name, little boy?” asks the lady. “Diok."

“Are you hungry, Dk>k?” “ Rather.” “Only rather?” in a tone of disappointment. ; “ Rather,” explains the Captain, “in that tone means * very.’ ” The lady takes the plate and fills it with cola chicken, stuffing, salad, bread and what not; adds a Knife and fork, and gives it to Dick. “ I should keep some of that for tomorrow, if I were you,” observed the doctor. “Then you’d bo a fool,” Dick replied, with a scoff. “The big fellows on the levee would take it ’fore you’d gone two blocks. To-morrow ain’t here, but the grub is, and so I’m going to get outside it while I can.” There is a general laugh at this philosophy. Dick “gets outside” his grub without further comment, and is walking off when the Captain calls him back with a “ Why, you young rascal! are you going without saying thank you?” “Thank ye.” “ No, not me. Thank the lady.” “Thank ke kindly, ma’am,” says Dick. It was the first polite speech he had ever uttered, and Heaven knows where he picked it up. The party remained on board till about six o’clock, and by the time it broke up every one had forgotten the “Rat;” but as Mrs. Austen was crossing the levee he ran up; much to the annoyance of her companion, who had had enough of him. “ 1 say,"’ says theßat, “doyou like him?” with a chuck of the thumb toward the steamer. “ Capt Gilbert?” “ Yes—is he your feller?” “ Get out, you scamp,” cries the gentleman, indignantly. “Lot him speak, Fred,” the lady pleads. “ No, Dick, lam niarried, and this is my husband; but Capt. Gilbert is our kind friend. I crossed with him

once, and he was very good to me when I was sick.” “Was you ever sick?” asks Dick, with a face full of wonder. “Often. So I can answer your question, and say that I do like the Captain very much.” “ You’d hate fdt any thing bad to happen to him?” “ Why, of course—to him or anyone else.” -—“ Wot, to me?” “—— “ Indeed 1 would, my poor boy. O, Fred, see how wistful he looks! Mayn’t 1 give him some of Charley’s left-off things? I have a little boy at home,” she goes on, seeing astonishment in her husband’s eye, “ about your size.” “Does he get chickens to eat?” asks the Rat. “Yes.” “Everyday?” “No, not every day,” she answers, smiling; it is well she does qualify Her reply, for Dick’s credulity was hot yet sufficiently elastic to bear such a marvel as a boy about his size, who had chickens every day. So they bade him follow them, and more wpnders were in- store for him. He sees Charlie, He was taken up to the lady’s own room where the promised things were produced and tried on over his rags. Here he stood lost in admiration. He gazed about him bewildered, and some aim sense of shame stole over him as he saw his own reflection in the looking-glass. “ Mayn’t I put’em on now?” he asks, as the things are selected. “ Better not,” says the lady. “ Put them on in the morning. Come here again about ten o’clock, and we will see what we can do with you.” Ho submits, and goes down very reluctantly, with two whole suits of Charley’s left-off clothes bundled up in a large' handkerchief, and fifty cents in his pocket. As soon as the hall-door closes after him the brute instincts of secrecy and evasion pull his jelly-bag hat over his eyes and send him off at a run. Capt. Gilbert spends the evening with his agent, and then returns to the ship about eleven o’clock. “ Sorry to say, sir,” begins the Chief Officer, “ that most of the men are on shore.” “Without leave?” A shrug of the shoulders is his only answer.

" Whose watch is it?” “Mr. Andrews’.” “ Send him here.” “ How’s this, Mr. Andrews,” asks the Captain, angrily. “It’s not my rault, sir. They don’t go over the gangway. They crawl over the side and onto the (teams of the wharf. It’s impossible to stop them.” The Captain knows New Orleans, and, being a just man, had no more to say. It is very provoking. He is going to sail to-morrow, and these men will come on board either drunk or stupid from the effect of drink. Some of them, perhaps, will not come at all. The weather for the last few days has been oppressively hot, and now there is hope of rain. The sky is dark and low, and the faint evening breeze has gone dowri. The Captain has gone down to his cabin, and tries to read, but the mosquitoes won't let him, so he gets into bed, tucks in his bar. and sleeps the sleep of a tired man. Something makes him conscious that two bells (one o’clock) is striking. Then he hears a whisper, “Cap’n! Cap’n!” close by his side. In an instant he had his revolver ready, and in the act of striking a match, when the whisper says, “ Hush! It’s me—Dick.Don’t say a word; don’t light a match. Hush! Is there a man named Phil Wood in your crowd?” * “Yes, a fireman; but he deserted last week,” the Captain whispers back. ‘ ‘ Have you got any specionshboard?” “ Specious? Oh, specie, you mean.” “ Wot’s that?” ■ “Money.” “Ithought so. Well, Cap’n, Phil Wood and five more are after that there specious, and they are aboard now.” “ Good heavens! why didn’t you tell me before?” gasps the Captain. “P’ Hoeman chevied me, ’cos I'd got a bundle that the lady gave me. He took it away, he did, and locked me up," exclaimed Dick, “but I got out.” “On board now, do you say?” asks the Captain. “ Yes, and at work, too. Listen?” WJiat the Captain hears sends him S bUJWXth with nepring- L shouting for help as loud as you can SinTOSlin ha rJ A— ——a. a Hou no (mrio Oul OB uSCK.

And no time' to spare! The thieves have overpowered and gaggod the man on watch, have cut round thh ings on the Latch leading to the specieroom, and already two/boxes are out and ready for spiriting away. It is a brisk affair while it lasts; which is until the Chief Officer, doctor, steward And some others aroused by Dick’s shouts' and the firing come upon the scene. Then such of the thieves as can do so jump overboard—for their retreat forward is cut off. Three remain : one, the leader, dead ; another with his thigh splintered, and a third with several balls in his body. The first thing they do is to release poor Mr. Andrews, whom they still find insensible from a blow on the head. By this time the police have come, and are searching the ship, lest others of the thieves might be hiding. “■What’s that in the wheel-house ?’’ says the Chief Officer; “ bring a light here. Ah ! its another of them. Turn him over. Oh, heavens. Captain, look here. Here’s gratitude! if it isn’t that cursed Rat that the lady ” “Mercy!” cries the Captain, “I forgot all about nim ! Is he hurt ?” "Shot right through the body, and serves him right,” is Mansfield’s reply. It struck the speaker “silly,” as he afterward said, to see the skipper fall down on his knees beside the “Rat,” lift his head upon his shoulder, and in a voice hoarse with emotion say, “ Are you hurt bad, my boy! Don’t start. I’m your friend the Captain, Dick—speak to me!” "Is the police gone?” he moans. “They shan’t hurt you, Dick—no one shall. Oh, doctor, come and attend this poor, brave little fellow. Any drop of his blood is worth more than all the lives of those scoundrels. Do your best for him, and send for all the surgeons in the city, if they can help poor Dick! Poor little faithful chap!” The wounded thieves are carried oft to the charity hospital by the police. Dick is taken to the Captain's cabin, and placed in his bed. The ship’s doctor does his very best for him. The most famous surgeon in the city comes and looks grave. Capt. Gilbert never leaves him. “Say ?” Dick’s voice has become very low and tremulous—" was that there money yourn?” , “ No; but it was in my charge.” “ You’d a got it if you’d lost it, eh ?” “ I should have been ruined.” “ She wouldn’t ha’ liked that.”

‘ • She ? who do you mean my boy ?’ ’ “The lady—her as you was good to.” The Captain turned aside, and tried hard to swallow something Which had never passed his lips. “Was it for her sake,” he asked, “ that you did this?” “ She said she'd hate to have anything bail to come to you,” replies the Rat, “ ’cos you was good to her when she was sick. Two nights ago I heard Phil Wood and his crowd talking about robbing a ship of specious. They’said they was going to 'tice all the men ashore with drink, iftid there’d be only one man forward besides the Cap’n. There was to ha’ bin one put at the Cap'ns door to knock him on the head if he came out. 1 didn’t know for sartin it war you’’ ship, and I was a-com-ing to ask if you had specious, when the p’liceman chevied me.” “Who was it that shot you?” “Don’t know. When I see the p’lice 1 crawled away to where you found me. I was skear’d, for fear they’d think I belonged to the other crowd.” The Rat is skin and bone, and nervous as a eaL He has lost more blood than he can spare from that slight wound on his arm. When the lady comes early in the morning, the Rat is sinking slowly, dis face brightens up as he sees her. say—don’t you cry like that,” says he. Childlike he puts up his hand to withdraw hers from her eyes. He touches it with awe. It does not break nor fly off, and nothing is done to him for his daring. Encouraged by such immunity, he ventures to give it a little pat, and then the face which he is watching intently is lit up with a smile through its tears. Into his unloved life—into his half-savage mind dawns the first idea of a caress. He clasps the lady’s hand and draws it down and presses it there with both his little brown paws. Then he leans back with a long-drawn sigh, and shuts his eyes.

Three years have passed, and Capt. Gilbert’ssteamer is again at her wharf at the foot of Jackson street; and again Mr. and Mrs. Austen are to lunch on board. As the lady is stepping down from the gang-way, a well-grown, handsome boy, in a bine fianpel Knickerbocker suit, and straw hat with ship’s ribbon, came slyly forward. "Why, that is never Dick?” she exclaims. “ Dick all over,” says the Captain, proudly. “Oh, Dick, how you have grown, and how improved!” “There was plenty of roomfortha(,” laughs the quondam Rat Then the Captain takes her aside and explains. “ He’s been at school ever since he got well, and has learned more' than other boys.in double the time.. Oh, he's smart! I'm educating him now for my profession, and believe he could pass for Mate to-morrow.” “ What name have you given him?” asks the lady. “My own. My wife thinks as much of him aa I do; and we’ve ho children of our own, why —” “ Capt. Gilbert, you are a good man!” This is the end of the Rat’s tale. Some scraps from a lunch table, kindly given, stood between a man and ruin; and the tender touch of a woman's hand saved a boy’s life.