From Canal Boy to President; Or, the Boyhood and Manhood of James A. Garfield. Alger Horatio Jr.
would be but little service to him here. Indeed, he was rather puzzled to know what he could do that would earn him a living in a smart town life Cleveland. However, he didn't much expect to find his first application successful, so he entered another store and preferred his request.
"You won't suit us," was the brusque reply. "You come from the country, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"You look like it. Well, I will give you a piece of advice."
"What is that, sir?"
"Go back there. You are better suited to country than the city. I daresay you would make a very good hand on a farm. We need different sort of boys here."
This was discouraging. James didn't know why he would not do for a city store or office. He was strong enough, and he thought he knew enough, for he had not at present much idea of what was taught at seminaries of a higher grade than the district schools he had been accustomed to attend.
"Well," he said to himself, "I've done what mother asked me to do. I've tried to get a place here, and there doesn't seem to be a place for me. After all, I don't know but I'd better go to Ohio."
Cleveland was not of course a sea-port, but it had considerable lake trade, and had a line of piers.
James found his way to the wharves, and his eye lighted up as he saw the sloops and schooners which were engaged in inland trade. He had never seen a real ship, or those schooners and sloops would have had less attraction for him.
In particular his attention was drawn to one schooner, not over-clean or attractive, but with a sea-faring look, as if it had been storm-tossed and buffeted. Half a dozen sailors were on board, but they were grimed and dirty, and looked like habitual drinkers—probably James would not have fancied becoming like one of these, but he gave little thought to their appearance. He only thought how delightful it would be to have such a floating home.
"Is the captain on board?" the boy ventured to ask.
"He's down below," growled the sailor whom he addressed.
"Will he soon come up?"
He was answered in the affirmative.
So James lingered until the man he inquired for came up.
He was a brutal-looking man, as common in appearance as any of the sailors whom he commanded, and the boy was amazed at his bearing. Surely that man was not his ideal of a ship-captain. He thought of him as a sort of prince, but there was nothing princely about the miserable, bloated wretch before him.
Still he preferred his application.
"Do you want a new hand?" asked James.
His answer was a volley of oaths and curses that made James turn pale, for he had never uttered an oath in his life, and had never listened to anything so disgusting as the tirade to which he was forced to listen.
He sensibly concluded that nothing was to be gained by continuing the conversation with such a man. He left the schooner's deck with a feeling of discomfiture. He had never suspected that sailors talked or acted like the men he saw.
Still he clung to the idea that all sailors were not like this captain. Perhaps again the rebuff he received was in consequence of his rustic appearance. The captain might be prejudiced against him, just as the shop-keepers had been, though the latter certainly had not expressed themselves in such rude and profane language. He might not be fit for a sailor yet, but he could prepare himself.
He bethought himself of a cousin of his, by name Amos Letcher, who had not indeed arrived at the exalted position of captain of a schooner, but was content with the humbler position of captain of a canal-boat on the Ohio and Pennsylvania Canal.
This seemed to James a lucky thought.
"I will go to Amos Letcher," he said to himself. "Perhaps he can find me a situation on a canal-boat, and that will be the next thing to being on board a ship."
This thought put fresh courage into the boy, and he straightway inquired for the Evening Star, which was the name of the boat commanded by his cousin.
Chapter IV—On The Tow-Path
Captain Letcher regarded his young cousin in surprise.
"Well, Jimmy, what brings you to Cleveland?" he asked.
"I came here to ship on the lake," the boy answered. "I tried first to get a place in a store, as I promised mother, but I found no opening. I would rather be a sailor."
"I am afraid your choice is not a good one; a good place on land is much better than going to sea. Have you tried to get a berth?"
"Yes, I applied to the captain of a schooner, but he swore at me and called me a land-lubber."
"So you are," returned his cousin smiling "Well, what are your plans now?"
"Can't you give me a place?"
"What, on the canal?"
"Yes cousin."
"I suppose you think that would be the next thing to going to sea?"
"It might prepare me for it."
"Well," said Captain Letcher, good-naturedly, "I will see what I can do for you. Can you drive a pair of horses?"
"Oh, yes."
"Then I will engage you. The pay is not very large, but you will live on the boat."
"How much do you pay?" asked James, who was naturally interested in the answer to this question.
"We pay from eight to ten dollars a month, according to length of service and fidelity. Of course, as a new hand, you can not expect ten dollars."
"I shall be satisfied with eight, cousin."
"Now, as to your duties. You will work six hours on and six hours off. That's what we call a trick—the six hours on, I mean. So you will have every other six hours to rest, or do anything you like; that is, after you have attended to the horses."
"Horses!" repeated James, puzzled; for the animals attached to the boat at that moment were mules.
"Some of our horses are mules," said Captain Letcher, smiling. "However, it makes no difference. You will have to feed and rub them down, and then you can lie down in your bunk, or do anything else you like."
"That won't be very hard work," said James, cheerfully.
"Oh, I forgot to say that you can ride or walk, as you choose. You can rest yourself by changing from one to the other."
James thought he should like to ride on horseback, as most boys do. It was not, however, so good fun as he anticipated. A canal-boat horse is by no means a fiery or spirited creature. His usual gait is from two to two and a half miles an hour, and to a boy of quick, active temperament the slowness must be rather exasperating. Yet, in the course of a day a boat went a considerable distance. It usually made fifty, and sometimes sixty miles a day. The rate depended on the number of locks it had to pass through.
Probably most of my young readers understand the nature of a lock. As all water seeks a level, there would be danger in an uneven country that some parts of the canal would be left entirely dry, and in others the water would overflow. For this reason at intervals locks are constructed, composed of brief sections of the canal barricaded at each end by gates. When a boat is going down, the near gates are thrown open and the boat enters the lock, the water rushing in till a level is secured; then the upper gates are closed, fastening the boat in the lock. Next the lower gates are opened, the water in the lock seeks the lower level of the other section of the canal, and the boat moves out of the lock, the water subsiding gradually beneath it. Next, the lower gates are closed, and the boat proceeds on its way. It will easily be understood, when the case is reversed, and the boat is going up, how after being admitted into the lock it will be lifted up to the higher level when the upper gates are thrown open.
If any of my young readers find it difficult to understand my explanation, I advise them to read Jacob Abbot's excellent book, "Rollo on the Erie Canal," where the whole matter is lucidly explained.
Railroads were not at that time as common as now, and the