Father Character Analysis

He told her about the shilling he had found, and the good-luck spell. “It’s the best good-luck spell in the world. But I’ll have to do it tonight, sure, while there’s still a new moon.”

“What if you can’t see the new moon through your window?”

Nat shook his head. “That’s bad luck. I’ll have to wait till Hab is asleep, and then get downstairs in the dark, without knocking over anything, and come out here in the yard.”

Lizza’s eyes got big. “By yourself? Won’t you be afraid?”

“Not very much,” Nat said. “Anyway, I got to do it. Our luck’s just got to change. I heard Granny talking to Mother. She’s worried. She said if things don’t go better now, she didn’t know what we’d do.” Lizza shivered. Nat added quickly, “They will go better, Lizza! Honest they will! Soon as I work my good-luck spell!”

“I’d invest in a privateer. I’d buy an expectation from a sailor.”

“How do you buy an expectation?”

“An expectation is the money a sailor expects to make on the voyage of a privateer. You see, when we capture a British ship, we sell it. The owner of the privateer gets part of the money. The rest goes to the captain and crew. If you want to buy an expectation, you talk to a sailor about it. He’ll take your money. Then he’ll give you a slip of paper that says you’ll get part of what he makes on the voyage.”

“And will that be more money than you gave him?”

“Lots more.”

“Why will the sailor sell his expectation, when he would have more money if he didn’t?”

Father chuckled. “Here comes a sailor now. You might ask him.”

The big man took off his flat black hat and fished a paper from the crown. “Just got one left. For ten per cent of my expectations. What’ll you give me for it?”

“All my money!” Nat laid his shilling in the big man’s hand.

The big man stared at the shilling. “Well, I’ll be a copper-bottomed, bevel-edged…Most money you ever had, eh?”

“Yes, sir!”

“And you come from a long line of sea captains? Who are you?”

“Nat Bowditch.”

“Captain Bowditch’s boy, eh? I remember when the Polly went aground. Same day the war started. April 19, 1775.”

“Granny said it ‘took the tuck’ out of Father.” Nat told the big man about his good-luck spell that he was going to work, only the nor’easter came, and hid the moon.

The big man rubbed his bristling chin. He looked at the shilling. “It’s a bargain, Mate. But keep it a secret!

She and Nat went out into the dark, moonless night, and walked down Turner’s Lane and out on the wharf. Mother helped Nat find the North Star, and told him how the Big Dipper swung around it, and how to tell time by the Dipper. Then she was silent, standing with her hand on Nat’s shoulder, looking up at the stars.

Boys don’t blubber. He must remember that. Finally, Nat said, “It’s all right about school, Mother. When times are better, I’ll get to go back.”

Mother did not answer. She was still gazing up at the sky. After a while she said, “I made up a sort of saying for myself, Nat. I will lift up my eyes unto the stars. Sometimes, if you look at the stars long enough, it helps. It shrinks your day-by-day troubles back down to size.” She smiled.

Elizabeth studied Nat gravely. “Funny to think you were young once, isn’t it? I suppose you seem older because of your brains. People say figures just run out of your ears. But I don’t see any.” Then, in a swift change of mood, she said, “Mary will be awfully happy here, won’t she? I mean—she knows how to be happy. Being happy takes a lot of practice, don’t you think?”

Lizza said, “Go tell David that, Elizabeth. He’ll love it.”

When Elizabeth had gone, Nat whistled softly. “How do you keep up with her?”

Lizza smiled. “She’s a dear child. But she does say the oddest things. Sometimes I think she must have been born knowing them. I tell her she has eyes in the back of her heart.”

Nat smiled. “And she says odd things? I think you’re quite a pair.”

Now the meaning of the strange sailing time dawned on the crew. Nat looked at Mr. Cheevers and saw anger, amusement, and respect in his eyes. But the faces of the men before the mast were frightening to watch. Not two of the lot, Nat figured, had had the slightest intention of sailing on the Astrea. They had doubtless heard of the clever desertion of the other crew. They’d planned the same stunt, signed on for a square meal and a month’s pay. Now they faced months at sea—the terrors of the Cape—the grilling passage through the Sunda Strait—a layover in Batavia—where men died like flies.

Their baffled rage was naked on their faces.

He told her about the shilling he had found, and the good-luck spell. “It’s the best good-luck spell in the world. But I’ll have to do it tonight, sure, while there’s still a new moon.”

“What if you can’t see the new moon through your window?”

Nat shook his head. “That’s bad luck. I’ll have to wait till Hab is asleep, and then get downstairs in the dark, without knocking over anything, and come out here in the yard.”

Lizza’s eyes got big. “By yourself? Won’t you be afraid?”

“Not very much,” Nat said. “Anyway, I got to do it. Our luck’s just got to change. I heard Granny talking to Mother. She’s worried. She said if things don’t go better now, she didn’t know what we’d do.” Lizza shivered. Nat added quickly, “They will go better, Lizza! Honest they will! Soon as I work my good-luck spell!”

“I’d invest in a privateer. I’d buy an expectation from a sailor.”

“How do you buy an expectation?”

“An expectation is the money a sailor expects to make on the voyage of a privateer. You see, when we capture a British ship, we sell it. The owner of the privateer gets part of the money. The rest goes to the captain and crew. If you want to buy an expectation, you talk to a sailor about it. He’ll take your money. Then he’ll give you a slip of paper that says you’ll get part of what he makes on the voyage.”

“And will that be more money than you gave him?”

“Lots more.”

“Why will the sailor sell his expectation, when he would have more money if he didn’t?”

Father chuckled. “Here comes a sailor now. You might ask him.”

The big man took off his flat black hat and fished a paper from the crown. “Just got one left. For ten per cent of my expectations. What’ll you give me for it?”

“All my money!” Nat laid his shilling in the big man’s hand.

The big man stared at the shilling. “Well, I’ll be a copper-bottomed, bevel-edged…Most money you ever had, eh?”

“Yes, sir!”

“And you come from a long line of sea captains? Who are you?”

“Nat Bowditch.”

“Captain Bowditch’s boy, eh? I remember when the Polly went aground. Same day the war started. April 19, 1775.”

“Granny said it ‘took the tuck’ out of Father.” Nat told the big man about his good-luck spell that he was going to work, only the nor’easter came, and hid the moon.

The big man rubbed his bristling chin. He looked at the shilling. “It’s a bargain, Mate. But keep it a secret!

She and Nat went out into the dark, moonless night, and walked down Turner’s Lane and out on the wharf. Mother helped Nat find the North Star, and told him how the Big Dipper swung around it, and how to tell time by the Dipper. Then she was silent, standing with her hand on Nat’s shoulder, looking up at the stars.

Boys don’t blubber. He must remember that. Finally, Nat said, “It’s all right about school, Mother. When times are better, I’ll get to go back.”

Mother did not answer. She was still gazing up at the sky. After a while she said, “I made up a sort of saying for myself, Nat. I will lift up my eyes unto the stars. Sometimes, if you look at the stars long enough, it helps. It shrinks your day-by-day troubles back down to size.” She smiled.

Elizabeth studied Nat gravely. “Funny to think you were young once, isn’t it? I suppose you seem older because of your brains. People say figures just run out of your ears. But I don’t see any.” Then, in a swift change of mood, she said, “Mary will be awfully happy here, won’t she? I mean—she knows how to be happy. Being happy takes a lot of practice, don’t you think?”

Lizza said, “Go tell David that, Elizabeth. He’ll love it.”

When Elizabeth had gone, Nat whistled softly. “How do you keep up with her?”

Lizza smiled. “She’s a dear child. But she does say the oddest things. Sometimes I think she must have been born knowing them. I tell her she has eyes in the back of her heart.”

Nat smiled. “And she says odd things? I think you’re quite a pair.”

Now the meaning of the strange sailing time dawned on the crew. Nat looked at Mr. Cheevers and saw anger, amusement, and respect in his eyes. But the faces of the men before the mast were frightening to watch. Not two of the lot, Nat figured, had had the slightest intention of sailing on the Astrea. They had doubtless heard of the clever desertion of the other crew. They’d planned the same stunt, signed on for a square meal and a month’s pay. Now they faced months at sea—the terrors of the Cape—the grilling passage through the Sunda Strait—a layover in Batavia—where men died like flies.

Their baffled rage was naked on their faces.