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Volume 3 (1858-1859) (592 pages)
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Page: of 592
FROM SAN FRANCISCO TO ONE CORNER OF MEXICO. 243
aforesaid articles, (on the floor first, and
then) on the cabin table, Chico’s head
suddenly appeared just above the quarter-deck, when his mouth opened—a
good, large, full-sized mouth, well adapted, no doubt by its shape and capacity,
to reduce the size of oranges—and out
escaped, with a kind of jerk, the cabalistic
word ‘‘ Comida!” (dinner\ and as suddenly disappeared again.
Now, chico, in Spanish, means small,
but our cabin-boy (!) thus named was
the biggest hand on board, who would
have stood six feet in his stockings, but
he never wore any, or boots either! and
was as strong in proportion—especially
in the growth of his tangled and matted
hair, and the smell of his clothes. It is
more than probable that Chicu would
have made a cleanly cabin-boy, could he
by any possibility have been prevailed
upon to wash himself, or any article
whatever that was put upon the cabin
table. One thing is tolerably certain,
if uncleanliness had been any part of
Chico’s religion he would have become a
very devout worshipper; but it was’nt,
as he evidently hadn’t any. His duties
—and they were numerous enough—
seemed to consist in trimming the cabin
and compass lamps, washing up dishes,
glasses, cups and saucers, by wiping them
with a dirty towel; laying the table-cloth
by sweeping off the crumbs with the back
of his hand ; wiping the knives and forks
(and occasionally his nose!) upon his
shirt sleeve ; carrying soup, or cooked, or
coddled, or boiled, or baked, or fried, or
dried, or stewed somethings, upon lightstreaked dishes, (supposed by persons
of very strong imagination to have once
been white,) from the cook’s galley to
the cabin, and back again; grinding
(and chewing) coffee, and taking care
THE FLYING FISH.
(for himself) of the claret wine bottles
we industriously emptied at breakfast
and dinner time.
Chico nevertheless was a useful man;
for, did the waves leap over the vessel’s
side, (they would sometimes) and turn a
somersault through the cabin skvlight
into the cabin, at any hour of the day or
night, the musical voice of the captain
could be heard shouting ‘‘ Chico, Chico 1’
when Chico’s slow and easy voice would
drawl out ‘‘ S-e-e, S-e-fi-o-r !”’ at the same
time that he emerged from his stow-away cupboard of a berth, beneath ‘the
companion-ladder, armed with a swab
half as big as himself, and which he
used in silence, not even consoling himself with a low muttering grumble, until
his work was done. This occurred seyeral times during one night; so that