Thou bright land of blessings in every form,
I leave thee and fly to the billow and storm."
It was on a bright, sunny morning in the month of June that we sailed. Old "Sol" never shone brighter, as he shed his warm rays into the back windows of the old Spurr house on Commercial Street. Here mother hired several rooms on the second floor, and it was in one of these back rooms that I received her blessing. I shall never forget the time or the place. There was a fond embrace from a loving mother, a kiss on the forehead, and a "God bless you, my son! Be a good boy, obey your captain, and never forget to say your prayers." Kind reader, no earthly being can bless you as a loving mother can. As I looked up and saw the thin, pale face of my mother, I felt the hot tears roll down my young cheeks. I was almost choked. I could not look up again or utter a single word, but I thanked God that I had her consent to go, and that I was not running away to sea and leaving mother and home for
"A life on the ocean wave
And a home on the rolling deep."
In less than an hour I was on board the good old schooner Longwharf Captain Cook of Provincetown, and standing down the Bay, bound to the Banks for a fishing cruise.
From this time, I made several trips cod-fishing and mackerel-catching, and also a number of voyages to the West Indies and some of the Southern ports. As so much has been written, however, about the slave-ships and the pirates of the West Indies, I will not go into
