{"id":"01KG8AKS69Q1CEJ86X72HP2B7T","cid":"bafkreiek72rlbh7we27i3xsutfbnig2k7llzxpl7jqtwaes66pvscrnsnm","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":1011,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:14.838Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","start_line":927,"text":"CHAPTER V.\r\nHE PURCHASES HIS SEA-WARDROBE, AND ON A DISMAL RAINY DAY PICKS UP HIS\r\nBOARD AND LODGING ALONG THE WHARVES\r\n\r\n\r\nThe first thing I now did was to buy a little stationery, and keep my\r\npromise to my mother, by writing her; and I also wrote to my brother\r\ninforming him of the voyage I purposed making, and indulging in some\r\nromantic and misanthropic views of life, such as many boys in my\r\ncircumstances, are accustomed to do.\r\n\r\nThe rest of the two dollars and a half I laid out that very morning in\r\nbuying a red woolen shirt near Catharine Market, a tarpaulin hat, which\r\nI got at an out-door stand near Peck Slip, a belt and jackknife, and\r\ntwo or three trifles. After these purchases, I had only one penny left,\r\nso I walked out to the end of the pier, and threw the penny into the\r\nwater. The reason why I did this, was because I somehow felt almost\r\ndesperate again, and didn’t care what became of me. But if the penny\r\nhad been a dollar, I would have kept it.\r\n\r\nI went home to dinner at Mr. Jones’, and they welcomed me very kindly,\r\nand Mrs. Jones kept my plate full all the time during dinner, so that I\r\nhad no chance to empty it. She seemed to see that I felt bad, and\r\nthought plenty of pudding might help me. At any rate, I never felt so\r\nbad yet but I could eat a good dinner. And once, years afterward, when\r\nI expected to be killed every day, I remember my appetite was very\r\nkeen, and I said to myself, “Eat away, Wellingborough, while you can,\r\nfor this may be the last supper you will have.”\r\n\r\nAfter dinner I went into my room, locked the door carefully, and hung a\r\ntowel over the knob, so that no one could peep through the keyhole, and\r\nthen went to trying on my red woolen shirt before the glass, to see\r\nwhat sort of a looking sailor I was going to make. As soon as I got\r\ninto the shirt I began to feel sort of warm and red about the face,\r\nwhich I found was owing to the reflection of the dyed wool upon my\r\nskin. After that, I took a pair of scissors and went to cutting my\r\nhair, which was very long. I thought every little would help, in making\r\nme a light hand to run aloft.\r\n\r\nNext morning I bade my kind host and hostess good-by, and left the\r\nhouse with my bundle, feeling somewhat misanthropical and desperate\r\nagain.\r\n\r\nBefore I reached the ship, it began to rain hard; and as soon as I\r\narrived at the wharf, it was plain that there would be no getting to\r\nsea that day.\r\n\r\nThis was a great disappointment to me, for I did not want to return to\r\nMr. Jones’ again after bidding them good-by; it would be so awkward. So\r\nI concluded to go on board ship for the present.\r\n\r\nWhen I reached the deck, I saw no one but a large man in a large\r\ndripping pea-jacket, who was calking down the main-hatches.\r\n\r\n“What do you want, Pillgarlic?” said he.\r\n\r\n“I’ve shipped to sail in this ship,” I replied, assuming a little\r\ndignity, to chastise his familiarity.\r\n\r\n“What for? a tailor?” said he, looking at my shooting jacket.\r\n\r\nI answered that I was going as a “boy;” for so I was technically put\r\ndown on the articles.\r\n\r\n“Well,” said he, “have you got your traps aboard?”\r\n\r\nI told him I didn’t know there were any rats in the ship, and hadn’t\r\nbrought any “trap.”\r\n\r\nAt this he laughed out with a great guffaw, and said there must be\r\nhay-seed in my hair.\r\n\r\nThis made me mad; but thinking he must be one of the sailors who was\r\ngoing in the ship, I thought it wouldn’t be wise to make an enemy of\r\nhim, so only asked him where the men slept in the vessel, for I wanted\r\nto put my clothes away.\r\n\r\n_“Where’s_ your clothes?” said he.\r\n\r\n“Here in my bundle,” said I, holding it up.\r\n\r\n“Well if that’s all you’ve got,” he cried, “you’d better chuck it\r\noverboard. But go forward, go forward to the forecastle; that’s the\r\nplace you’ll live in aboard here.”\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJNGC4JW7M8FES9JMSWZS","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKS5H06BX1QMVAVX77DYV","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:15.561Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:23.380Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}