There was too much "nigger" in him for head-work of that sort,
though he was ingenious and ready enough in his way. A sterling fellow
was Neb, and I got in time to love him very much as I can conceive one
would love a brother.
One day, after I had seen all the sights, and had begun to think
seriously of finding a ship, I was strolling along the wharves on the
latter errand, when I heard a voice I knew cry put, "There, Captain
Williams, there's just your chap; he'll make as good a third-mate as
can be found in all America." I had a sort of presentiment this
applied to me, though I could not, on the instant, recall the
speaker's name. Turning to look in the direction of the sounds, I saw
the hard countenance of Marble, alongside the weather-beaten face of a
middle-aged shipmaster, both of whom were examining me over the
nettings of a very promising-looking armed merchantman. I bowed to
Mr. Marble, who beckoned me to come on board, where I was regularly
introduced to the master.
This vessel was called the Crisis, a very capital name for a craft in
a country where crisises of one sort or another occur regularly as
often as once in six months. She was a tight little ship of about four
hundred tons, had hoop-pole bulwarks, as I afterwards learned, with
nettings for hammocks and old junk, principally the latter; and showed
ten nine-pounders, carriage-guns, in her batteries.
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