Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-01-09
CHIPS. THE CARPENTER.

'ODlpS, WHOul hlltW 1OI luUuUlS ny
no other name, was ships carpenter OF
the whaler GaZelle, of New Bedford.
He was twenty-siX years old, six feet
high and strong as tree. He was. the
favorite of the ship, and no wonder.
He was tender and gentle, perhaps be-
cause he was strong; he was peaceful,
because he was powerful. And the
soft word which tutneth away wrath,
with the gentle hand to soothe a suf-
ferer, are often needed in the whale
fisheries.
Most of the foremost hands Of the
GaZelle were rough Portuguese lads,
from the Western Islands, on their
first voyage. They were treated with
coarse contempt by the few American
seaman and by the officers.
1.-The only 'white man'-as the
Yankee sailor loves to call himself
who was kind and patient with these
rude boys, was Chips; and he was new
er tired of showing or teaching them
something of what he knew. He was
one of those unselfish fellows who do
not believe in keeping knowledge to
themselves. He had never been to
sea before, but during the first two
years of this voyage he had attended
to so many things besides his own easy
work, that he was considered as one of
best and coolest Whalemen aboard.
Although exempt from standing
watch, he had insisted on doing the
duty from the first day out. AT night,
if the weather were good, he would
sit on the main hatch in the center of
q ring of the Portuguese lads, and with
wonderful patience teach them how to
make spices and knots, and to speak
English. He never tired of doing this
or any other kindly thing for them.
In the daytime if there were work for
him at his trade, he still had them
around him.. explaining everything as
he sawed or planed, as if he wished to
make them as good carpenters of he
was himself.
~ On Sunday, when everyone brought
his letters and pictures on deck. Chips
showed the only signs of sadness we
ever saw. He was the only one on
bOard-eXcept mySelf-who had Meth
er pictures nor letterS-neither face
nor word to remind him of home.
When the ship touched at some port
with postoffice, and everyone ran for
letters, Chips remained aboard-he
knew there was none for him. In one
of the boys albums he found a picture
of an old, white-haired wOman-the
lads mother-and every Sunday after
noon he asked for the album, and al
ways gave it back when he had turned
and looked at that picture.
The ship had been two years out
when l first saw Chips. Through
strange and unhappy circumstances l
was afloat on the Indian Ocean, in
small boat, when this New Bedford
Whaler hove in sight, and ran toward
me. The first man to spring out in
the miZzen chains, to help me aboard,
was strong-handed Chips, with tears of
sympathy in his eyes. On deck the cap
tain met me with open hand and heart,
and for eight months / sailed with the
whalemen, and took part in the good
and i'll that befell them.
Chips and were friends from the
instant our hands struck. Shaking
hands is one of the best tests of char
acter. Some people shake your hand
so politely that you feel they would
care mighty little about shaking your
acquaintance; some men slip their
hands into yours and make you feel as
if you were squeezing fish; some
peoples hands are so thick. and fat,
and cold, that you might as we'll grasp
the fingers of leather dummy; most
people, and nice people, shake hands
as preliminary to conversation; but
now and then ones hand strikes into
n sympathetic palm, the fingers take
full hold, the thumbs interlock and
close-and when that friendly grasp is
over, there is not word to be said-it
spoke all friendly greeting in its own
good language. Just such a kindly
and grim grip did Chips give me
the first time we met.
When boarded the whaler l was in
a bad way for clothes; all that belonged
to me in the world were the few brand
ed rags that l had worn in the boat.
Sailors are used to such things; and
they know the remedy. Every one
came forward with his little offering.
One brought hat, another jacket,
another pair of sea boots, jacknife,