{"id":"01KG8AMET8ZA7M0Z4RPH3MHNQV","cid":"bafkreibwdwijter7m5gzy24nae2dg64myh5o3kzeq7373nnh2fy2wy76oy","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":7691,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:36.274Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","start_line":7618,"text":"Some allusion has been made to the weariness experienced by the\r\nman-of-war’s-men while lying at anchor; but there are scenes now and\r\nthen that serve to relieve it. Chief among these are the Purser’s\r\nauctions, taking place while in harbour. Some weeks, or perhaps months,\r\nafter a sailor dies in an armed vessel, his bag of clothes is in this\r\nmanner sold, and the proceeds transferred to the account of his heirs\r\nor executors.\r\n\r\nOne of these auctions came off in Rio, shortly after the sad accident\r\nof Baldy.\r\n\r\nIt was a dreamy, quiet afternoon, and the crew were listlessly lying\r\naround, when suddenly the Boatswain’s whistle was heard, followed by\r\nthe announcement, “D’ye hear there, fore and aft? Purser’s auction on\r\nthe spar-deck!”\r\n\r\nAt the sound, the sailors sprang to their feet and mustered round the\r\nmain-mast. Presently up came the Purser’s steward, marshalling before\r\nhim three or four of his subordinates, carrying several clothes’ bags,\r\nwhich were deposited at the base of the mast.\r\n\r\nOur Purser’s steward was a rather gentlemanly man in his way. Like many\r\nyoung Americans of his class, he had at various times assumed the most\r\nopposite functions for a livelihood, turning from one to the other with\r\nall the facility of a light-hearted, clever adventurer. He had been a\r\nclerk in a steamer on the Mississippi River; an auctioneer in Ohio; a\r\nstock actor at the Olympic Theatre in New York; and now he was Purser’s\r\nsteward in the Navy. In the course of this deversified career his\r\nnatural wit and waggery had been highly spiced, and every way improved;\r\nand he had acquired the last and most difficult art of the joker, the\r\nart of lengthening his own face while widening those of his hearers,\r\npreserving the utmost solemnity while setting them all in a roar. He\r\nwas quite a favourite with the sailors, which, in a good degree, was\r\nowing to his humour; but likewise to his off-hand, irresistible,\r\nromantic, theatrical manner of addressing them.\r\n\r\nWith a dignified air, he now mounted the pedestal of the main-top-sail\r\nsheet-bitts, imposing silence by a theatrical wave of his hand;\r\nmeantime, his subordinates were rummaging the bags, and assorting their\r\ncontents before him.\r\n\r\n“Now, my noble hearties,” he began, “we will open this auction by\r\noffering to your impartial competition a very superior pair of old\r\nboots;” and so saying, he dangled aloft one clumsy cowhide cylinder,\r\nalmost as large as a fire bucket, as a specimen of the complete pair.\r\n\r\n“What shall I have now, my noble tars, for this superior pair of\r\nsea-boots?”\r\n\r\n“Where’s t’other boot?” cried a suspicious-eyed waister. “I remember\r\nthem ’ere boots. They were old Bob’s the quarter-gunner’s; there was\r\ntwo on ’em, too. I want to see t’other boot.”\r\n\r\n“My sweet and pleasant fellow,” said the auctioneer, with his blandest\r\naccents, “the other boot is not just at hand, but I give you my word of\r\nhonour that it in all respects corresponds to the one you here see—it\r\ndoes, I assure you. And I solemnly guarantee, my noble sea-faring\r\nfencibles,” he added, turning round upon all, “that the other boot is\r\nthe exact counterpart of this. Now, then, say the word, my fine\r\nfellows. What shall I have? Ten dollars, did you say?” politely bowing\r\ntoward some indefinite person in the background.\r\n\r\n“No; ten cents,” responded a voice.\r\n\r\n“Ten cents! ten cents! gallant sailors, for this noble pair of boots,”\r\nexclaimed the auctioneer, with affected horror; “I must close the\r\nauction, my tars of Columbia; this will never do. But let’s have\r\nanother bid; now, come,” he added, coaxingly and soothingly. “What is\r\nit? One dollar, one dollar then—one dollar; going at one dollar; going,\r\ngoing—going. Just see how it vibrates”—swinging the boot to and\r\nfro—“this superior pair of sea-boots vibrating at one dollar; wouldn’t\r\npay for the nails in their heels; going, going—gone!” And down went the\r\nboots.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AKVRDZXGM2H1RFF0WHDMX","peer_type":"scene","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J19NC56FFGBCM2SWEZZY","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AMET8J18D1KF9C1H6MESN","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:37.704Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:48.993Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}