Peter Trawl | Page 4

do right in the sight of God.
My father, Jack Trawl (as he spelt his name, or, rather, as others spelt it
for him, he being no great hand with a pen), was an old
man-of-war's-man. I well remember hearing him say that his father,
who had been mate of a merchantman, and had been lost at sea when he
himself was a boy, was a Shetlander; and in an old Testament which
had belonged to his mother, and which he had treasured as the only
relic of either of his parents, I found the name written Troil. The ink
was very faint, but I made out the words clearly, "Margaret Troil, given
to her by her husband Angus." This confirmed me in the idea I had
formed, that both my father's parents had come from the far off island
of Shetland.
My father being a sober, steady man, having saved more of his pay and
prize-money than had most of his shipmates, when he left the service
bought a wherry, hired and furnished a house, and married my mother,
Polly Treherne, the daughter of a bumboat-woman who plied her trade
in Portsmouth Harbour.
I have no cause to be ashamed of my grandmother, for every one who
knew her said, and I am sure of it, that she was as worthy a woman in

her line of life as ever lived. She gave good measure and charged
honest prices, whether she was dealing in soft tack, fruit, vegetables,
cheese, herrings, or any of the other miscellaneous articles with which
she supplied the seamen of His Majesty's ships; and her daughter Polly,
who assisted her, was acknowledged by all to be as good and
kind-hearted as she was pretty. No wonder, then, that she won the heart
of my brave father when she visited the ship in which he had just come
home, or that, knowing his worth, although she had many suitors, she
consented to marry him.
For some time all went well, but what happened is a proof that honest,
industrious persons may be overtaken by misfortunes as well as other
people. Father had no intention that his wife should follow her mother's
calling, as he could make enough to keep the pot boiling; but after they
had been married a few years, and several children had been born, all of
whom died in their infancy, except my eldest brother Jack, and me and
Mary, the two youngest, bad times came.
CHAPTER TWO.
HOW A TRUE FRIEND WAS GAINED.
Just before we two entered this world of troubles, the bank in which my
father had deposited his savings broke, and all were lost. The sails of
his wherry were worn out, and he had been about to buy a new suit,
which he now couldn't do; the wherry herself was getting crazy, and
required repairs, and he himself met with an accident which laid him up
for several weeks. Grandmother also, who had lost nearly her all by the
failure of the bank, though she had hitherto been hale and hearty, now
began to talk of feeling the approach of old age.
One evening, while father was laid up, she looked in on us. "Polly, my
girl, there's no use trying to beat up in the teeth of a gale with a
five-knot current against one," she exclaimed, as, dropping down into
out big arm-chair and undoing her bonnet-strings and the red
handkerchief she wore round her neck, she threw her bonnet over the
back of her head. "I'm dead beat with to-day's work, and shall be worse

to-morrow. Now, my dear, what I've got to say is this, I want you to
help me. You know the trade as well as I do. It will be a good thing for
you as well as for me; for look you, my dear, if anything should happen
to your Jack, it will help you to keep the wolf from the door."
This last argument, with her desire to help the good old lady, made
mother say that if father was agreeable she would do as grandmother
wished. She forthwith went upstairs, where father was lying in bed,
scarcely able to move for the pain his hurt caused him. They talked the
matter over, and he, knowing that something must be done for the
support of the family, gave, though unwillingly, his consent. Thus it
happened that my mother again took to bum-boating.
Trade, however, wasn't like what it used to be in the war time, I heard
grandmother say. Then seamen would have their pockets filled with
five-pound notes and golden guineas, which they were eager to spend;
now they rarely had more than a few shillings or a handful of coppers
jingling in them. Still there was an honest livelihood