On this principle,
_my_ Canton excursion _ought_ to be full of marvels, as it
was the progenitor of all that I subsequently saw and experienced as a
sailor. Truth compels me to confess, notwithstanding, that it was one
of the least wonderful of all the voyages I ever made, until near its
close.
We lay some months in the river, getting cargo, receiving teas,
nankins, silks and other articles, as our supercargo could lay hands
on them. In all this time, we saw just as much of the Chinese as it is
usual for strangers to see, and not a jot more. I was much up at the
factories, with the captain, having charge of his boat; and, as for
Rupert, he passed most of his working-hours either busy with the
supercargo ashore, or writing in the cabin. I got a good insight,
however, into the uses of the serving-mallet, the fid, marlinspike and
winch, and did something with the needle and palm. Marble was very
good to me, in spite of his nor-west face, and never let slip an
occasion to give a useful hint. I believe my exertions on the
outward-bound passage fully equalled expectations, and the officers
had a species of pride in helping to make Captain Wallingford's son
worthy of his honourable descent. I had taken occasion to let it be
known that Rupert's great-grandfather had been a man-of-war captain;
but the suggestion was met by a flat, refusal to believe it from
Mr.
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