But here be it known, that I had been terribly disappointed in carrying out my original plan concerning this jacket. It had been my intention to make it thoroughly impervious, by giving it a coating of paint, But bitter fate ever overtakes us unfortunates. So much paint had been stolen by the sailors, in daubing their overhaul trowsers and tarpaulins, that by the time I-an honest man-had completed my quiltings, the paint-pots were banned, and put under strict lock and key.
Said old Brush, the captain of the _paint-room_- "Look ye, White-Jacket," said he, "ye can't have any paint."
Such, then, was my jacket: a well-patched, padded, and porous one; and in a dark night, gleaming white as the White Lady of Avenel!
CHAPTER II
HOMEWARD BOUND
"All hands up anchor! Man the capstan!"
"High die! my lads, we're homeward bound!"
Homeward bound! — harmonious sound! Were you _ever_ homeward bound? — No?-Quick! take the wings of the morning, or the sails of a ship, and fly to the uttermost parts of the earth. There, tarry a year or two; and then let the gruffest of boatswains, his lungs all goose-skin, shout forth those magical words, and you'll swear "the harp of Orpheus were not more enchanting."
All was ready; boats hoisted in, stun' sail gear rove, messenger passed, capstan-bars in their places, accommodation-ladder below; and in glorious spirits, we sat down to dinner. In the ward-room, the lieutenants were passing round their oldest port, and pledging their friends; in the steerage, the _middies_ were busy raising loans to liquidate the demands of their laundress, or else-in the navy phrase-preparing to pay their creditors _with a flying fore-topsail_. On the poop, the captain was looking to windward; and in his grand, inaccessible cabin, the high and mighty commodore sat silent and stately, as the statue of Jupiter in Dodona.