Within the Tides HTML version

Because Of The Dollars
While we were hanging about near the water's edge, as sailors idling ashore will do (it
was in the open space before the Harbour Office of a great Eastern port), a man came
towards us from the "front" of business houses, aiming obliquely at the landing steps. He
attracted my attention because in the movement of figures in white drill suits on the
pavement from which he stepped, his costume, the usual tunic and trousers, being made
of light grey flannel, made him noticeable.
I had time to observe him. He was stout, but he was not grotesque. His face was round
and smooth, his complexion very fair. On his nearer approach I saw a little moustache
made all the fairer by a good many white hairs. And he had, for a stout man, quite a good
chin. In passing us he exchanged nods with the friend I was with and smiled.
My friend was Hollis, the fellow who had so many adventures and had known so many
queer people in that part of the (more or less) gorgeous East in the days of his youth. He
said: "That's a good man. I don't mean good in the sense of smart or skilful in his trade. I
mean a really GOOD man."
I turned round at once to look at the phenomenon. The "really GOOD man" had a very
broad back. I saw him signal a sampan to come alongside, get into it, and go off in the
direction of a cluster of local steamers anchored close inshore.
I said: "He's a seaman, isn't he?"
"Yes. Commands that biggish dark-green steamer: 'Sissie-- Glasgow.' He has never
commanded anything else but the 'Sissie-- Glasgow,' only it wasn't always the same
Sissie. The first he had was about half the length of this one, and we used to tell poor
Davidson that she was a size too small for him. Even at that time Davidson had bulk. We
warned him he would get callosities on his shoulders and elbows because of the tight fit
of his command. And Davidson could well afford the smiles he gave us for our chaff. He
made lots of money in her. She belonged to a portly Chinaman resembling a mandarin in
a picture-book, with goggles and thin drooping moustaches, and as dignified as only a
Celestial knows how to be.
"The best of Chinamen as employers is that they have such gentlemanly instincts. Once
they become convinced that you are a straight man, they give you their unbounded
confidence. You simply can't do wrong, then. And they are pretty quick judges of
character, too. Davidson's Chinaman was the first to find out his worth, on some
theoretical principle. One day in his counting- house, before several white men he was
heard to declare: 'Captain Davidson is a good man.' And that settled it. After that you
couldn't tell if it was Davidson who belonged to the Chinaman or the Chinaman who