The Old Tobacco Shop
by William Bowen · English · Gutenberg #26977 · 389,669 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Old Tobacco Shop
Author: William Bowen
Release date: October 20, 2008 [eBook #26977]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/26977
Credits: Produced by David Edwards, Katie Ward and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OLD TOBACCO SHOP ***
Produced by David Edwards, Katie Ward and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)
Transcriber's note:
Archaic and variable spelling preserved as printed.
Author's punctuation style preserved.
Hyphenation standardized.
Passages in italics indicated by underscore _.
[Illustration: _The Old Tobacco Shop_
_By William Bowen_]
The Old Tobacco Shop
Also By
WILLIAM BOWEN
The Enchanted Forest
The Old Tobacco Shop
[Illustration: "Lord bless us!" cried the hunch back. "Look at that!"]
_The Old Tobacco Shop_
_A True Account of What Befell
a Little Boy in Search
of Adventure_
_By
William Bowen_
_Though you believe it not, I care not much: but an honest man, and
of good judgment, believeth still what is told him, and that which
he finds written._--RABELAIS.
New York
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
1921
_All rights reserved_
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
COPYRIGHT, 1921
BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
Set up and Electrotyped. Published October, 1921
FERRIS PRINTING COMPANY
NEW YORK
To
BILLY AND JOHN
TWO LITTLE BOYS
PRINCIPAL PERSONS
Freddie
Mr. Toby
Aunt Amanda
Mr. Punch
The Churchwarden
Mr. Hanlon
The Sly Old Fox
The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg
Mr. Lemuel Mizzen
The Cabin-Boy
Marmaduke
Captain Lingo
Ketch the Practitioner
The Third Vice-President
Mr. Matthew Speak
Shiraz the Rug-Merchant
The King and Queen
Robert, Jenny, and James
Mr. Punch's Father
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. "Lord bless us!" cried the hunch back. "Look at that!" Frontispiece
2. "I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me!" 50
3. "L-l-Lem!" shrieked the parrot. "Who's your f-f-f-friends?" 86
4. Mr. Hanlon was standing on his feet by the log on
which his head had been cut off 134
5. Shiraz the Rug-Merchant looked at his visitors
with little beady black eyes 188
6. "Ah, yes," said Aunt Amanda, "there's no place like
the Old Tobacco Shop after all" 235
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Mr. Punch and the Clock-Tower 1
II. Aunt Amanda and the Two Old Codgers 9
III. Introducing the Churchwarden 22
IV. In which Mr. Hanlon makes a Great Impression 31
V. The Chinaman's Head 39
VI. Lemuel Mizzen, A.B. 48
VII. The Hands of the Clock come Together 54
VIII. Celluloid Cuffs and a Silk Hat 60
IX. The Odour of Sanctity 65
X. Captain Higginson and the Spanish Main 69
XI. A Mixed Company in search of Adventure 74
XII. The Voyage of the Sieve 81
XIII. The Cabin-Boy's Revenge 93
XIV. The Cruise of the Mattresses 107
XV. A Fall in the Dark 111
XVI. Captain Lingo and a Fine Piece of Head-Work 122
XVII. High Dudgeon and Low Dudgeon 139
XVIII. The Society for Piratical Research 146
XIX. A Knock at the Door 160
XX. The City of Towers 171
XXI. Shiraz the Rug-Merchant 178
XXII. Six Enchanted Souls 187
XXIII. From the Fire Back to the Frying-Pan 196
XXIV. Disenchantment Complete 200
XXV. The Old Man of the Mountain 209
XXVI. The King's Tower 216
XXVII. The Sorcerer's Den 222
XXVIII. The Old Tobacco Shop 231
THE OLD TOBACCO SHOP
CHAPTER I
MR. PUNCH AND THE CLOCK-TOWER
When the Little Boy first went to the Old Tobacco Shop, he stood a long
while before going in, to look at the wooden figure which stood beside
the door.
His father was sitting at home in his carpet-slippers, waiting for
tobacco for his pipe, but when the Little Boy saw the wooden figure he
forgot all about hurrying,--"Now don't be long," his mother had said,
and his father had said "Hurry back,"--but he forgot all about hurrying,
and stood and looked at the wooden figure a long time: a little
hunchbacked man, not so very much taller than himself, on a low wooden
box, holding out in one hand a packet of black wooden cigars. His back
was terribly humped up between his shoulders, his face was square and
bony, if wood can be said to be bony, he was bareheaded and bald-headed,
he had a wide mouth, and his high nose curved down over it and his
pointed chin curved up under it; and his breast stuck out in front
almost as much as his shoulders stuck out behind.
The Little Boy's name was Freddie; his mother called him that, and his
father usually called him Fred; but sometimes his father called him
Frederick, in fact whenever he didn't come back after he had been told
to hurry, and then his father looked at him--you know that look--and
said "Frederick!" just like that. But his mother never called him
anything but Freddie, even when he was late.
He grasped his money tight in his hand, as he had been told to do, and
stood and looked at the little hunchbacked wooden man holding out his
packet of black wooden cigars. "I wonder," thought Freddie, "what makes
him so crooked?" He walked around him and looked at his back. He walked
around in front of him again and wondered if the black cigars in his
hand would smoke; he decided he would ask about it. The little man wore
blue knee breeches and black stockings and buckled shoes, and his coat
was cut away in front over his stomach and had two tails behind, down to
his knees. It was easy to see that he wasn't a boy, though, even if he
did wear knee breeches; you only had to look at his face, for he had the
kind of hard boniness in his face that grown-ups have. Freddie made up
his mind that he liked him, anyway; and it must have been hard to have
to stand out there all day without moving, rain or shine, and offer that
bunch of cigars to all the people who went by, and never get a single
soul to take them. Freddie put out his other hand (not the one with the
money in it) towards the cigars, but he quickly drew it back, for he
looked at the little man's face at the same time, and there was
something about his eyes--anyhow, he stood back a little.
"Better be careful o' Mr. Punch, young feller," said a deep voice from
the shop door.
Freddie looked, and in the doorway, leaning against the doorpost, with
his hands in his trousers' pockets, and one foot crossed over the
other, stood a little man, not so very much taller than himself, and
certainly no taller than the figure on the stand, who stared at Freddie
as if he knew all about human boys and did not trust them out of his
sight. Freddie looked at him and then at the wooden figure beside the
door; they might have been brothers. The little man had a hump on his
back, and his breast stuck out in front; his head was big and square,
and he had high cheek-bones; his face was bony and his mouth wide, and
his big nose curved down and his chin curved up; but he did not wear
knee breeches; his trousers were the trousers of grown-ups, and his coat
was a square coat, buttoned tight over his chest from top to bottom. He
was bareheaded, and he had plenty of hair, brushed from the top of his
head down towards his forehead. He looked as if he belonged to the
tobacco shop; or perhaps the tobacco shop belonged to him.
He stared at Freddie without blinking, and there was something in his
eyes--anyway, Freddie stepped back, and held his money tighter in his
hand behind him.
"You'd _better_ stand away from Mr. Punch," said the hunchbacked man,
without moving.
"Yes, sir," said Freddie.
"Did you say 'why'? Because you know I'm terrible deef, and can't never
hear boys when they talk down in their stomicks. I'll _tell_ you why, as
long as you ast me. Do you see that clock on the church-tower over
there?" He nodded his big wooden head up the street, without taking his
hands from his pockets. Freddie looked, and there the clock was, plain
enough. "Well," said the hunchbacked man, "I'll tell you, seeing as you
insist upon it, and won't take no for an answer: but you mustn't never
tell it to no one. Do you promise me that? Cross your heart?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie.
"Done," said the hunchback. "Mr. Punch's father lives up there behind
that clock. And sometimes, just exactly when the two hands of that clock
come together, one on top of the other, mind you, like you lay one stick
along another, Mr. Punch's father comes out and stands on that there
sill under the clock; he's a little old man with a long white beard; and
he stands there and puts his hand to his mouth and calls down here to
Mr. Punch, and Mr. Punch climbs down off his little perch and goes over
to that church, and climbs up the inside of that tower to the very top
and meets his father! And I've heard tell that they have regular high
jinks up there all by theirselves, and vittles! more vittles and drink
than you ever seen at one time; yes, sir; a regular feast, as sure as
you're born; and they don't only eat vittles; no, sir; if they can only
get hold of a nice plump little boy or two, with plenty o' meat to him,
that's what they like best; and if it happens to be night-time, there's
a lot of queer ones with 'em up there, and all sorts of queer
noises--you ask the sextant over there about it--_he's_ heard 'em; and
if you should just happen to be around when Mr. Punch climbs down off of
this here perch, you'd better look out; for he's just as likely as not
to snatch you up and carry you off with him up there into that
church-tower to his father, and if he does _that_, that's the last of
you; and your ma and your pa could cry their eyes out, and it wouldn't
be no use; you'd be _gone_! And never come back no more. They say
there's many a boy been took up into that tower by Mr. Punch here when
his father comes out and calls him. But he don't _always_ come out when
the hands of the clock come together; nobody ever knows when he's going
to do it, no sirree; Mr. Punch himself never knows when his father's
going to call him. Lord bless us!" cried the little hunchback, looking
up again in alarm at the clock in the church-tower. "Lord bless us,
look at that!"
Freddie stared at the clock. It was twenty-five minutes past five. He
knew how to tell twelve o'clock and ten minutes to ten, but he had never
got as far as twenty-five minutes past five; he could easily see,
however, that the big hand was almost on top of the little hand. He
edged away further from the wooden figure on the box; he was almost sure
that the hand which held the cigars moved a little.
The hunchbacked man in the doorway stood up straight on his two feet and
took his hands out of his pockets.
"Look alive, young feller!" he said. "It's pretty near time! In another
minute! I can't help it if Mr. Punch's father comes out and--Quick, boy!
Come here to me, before it's too late! I'll see if I can save you!"
Freddie gave another look at the clock; the hands were surely almost
together, and quick as a flash he darted to the hunchback and hid behind
him and held on to his coat, peeping around him through the doorway. The
little man put his arm about Freddie and held him close; it was a strong
muscular arm, and Freddie felt quite safe. The little man could not have
been laughing, for his face was as solemn and wooden-looking as ever;
but Freddie could feel his body shaking all over, he couldn't tell why.
"You'd better come in and see Aunt Amanda," he said, "before it's too
late. You'll be safe in there."
He took Freddie by the hand and drew him into the shop.
The Old Tobacco Shop stands at the corner of two streets, as you surely
must know if you have ever been in the city that lies on the river
called Patapsco, which runs along ever so far out of a great bay where
ships sail from all over the world, called Chesapeake Bay. It is an old
brick house, and you go into the shop by the door that opens in the side
just round the corner, not in the front, for there isn't any door at the
front, but only a window with pipes and cigars and tobacco in it, and
the stuffed head of a bull-dog with a pipe in his mouth. The house is
only one story and a half high, and has a steep gabled roof, with two
dormer windows in the slope of the roof above the side of the house, and
one dormer window in the slope of the roof above the shop-window in
front, where the bull-dog is. All the other houses fronting in the row
are good high two-story houses; why this corner house never grew up like
the others, no one knows.
When Freddie was standing at the corner of the street, before he had
seen the wooden figure offering his bundle of wooden cigars there beside
the door, he looked down the street that runs along the side of the
shop, across the street that crosses it, and saw the masts of tall ships
in the harbor beside the wharves; some with their sails up, some with
their sails hanging most untidily, and some with their sails neatly
rolled up and tied; and he would certainly have gone down there, only
his father had told him to hurry.
Freddie lived in a fine two-story brick house in a row like this one, a
long, long way off; three squares off (they say "squares" in that city
when they mean a straight line between two streets and not a square at
all) down the same street on which the Old Tobacco Shop fronts; and it
really takes a good while to go all that way, for there is a boy
half-way down, a big boy, who belongs to a Gang, and likes to bully
little boys, and you have to watch your chance to get out of his way,
and there is a place with a knot-hole in the fence where you can see all
kinds of rusty springs and bed-rails and birdcages and barrel hoops
piled up inside the yard, and a tin-can factory where you can pick up
little round pieces of tin just as good as dollars, and a church (where
the clock is) with a fat old man sitting on the pavement in a chair
tilted back against the church wall smoking a long pipe, who doesn't
mind being stared at from the curbstone, and a street-car track where
you have to look out for the horse-car, which is very dangerous when the
horse begins to trot, and--but Freddie hadn't lived long in his fine
two-story house in that street, and these things were new to him and
took time. But the newest and biggest thing he had yet found (not that
it was really big, you know) was the wooden hunchback outside the door
of the Old Tobacco Shop; and you have seen how much time _that_ took.
Freddie found himself inside the shop, and his hand grasped tight by the
big strong hand of the hunchback, so tight that he wriggled a little to
get loose; but the hunchback only held him tighter. "Come along," he
said, "you'd better come in here and see my Aunt Amanda, or Mr. Punch
may step out and get you; and _then_ where would you be?"
Freddie looked back out of doors over his shoulder, but it did not seem
as if Mr. Punch meant to step out that time. He breathed easier. The
shop was a very little shop, with shelves on the wall behind the
counter, and a window in front where he saw the back of the bull-dog's
head. The two show-cases on the counter were full of pipes of all kinds,
and cigars and tobacco and cigarettes, and piled on the shelves were
boxes of cigars and jars and tins of tobacco, and on the wooden top of
the counter between the two show-cases stood a tobacco-cutter and a
little pair of scales with a scoop lying beside it and little iron
weights in a box. The counter ran from the front window lengthwise to
the back of the shop, and at the back, on your left as you went in, was
a closed door. A wooden chair with arms stood beside the front window.
You could get behind the counter only by a swinging gate at the back
end. There was a delightful warm odour about the place, very much the
same odour Freddie liked to smell when his father opened his old
tobacco-box on the mantel-piece in the sitting-room upstairs and filled
his pipe, when he came home in the evening and put on his
carpet-slippers and spread out that everlasting newspaper that had no
pictures in it. He never could understand why his mother opened all the
windows the next morning.
"All right, young feller," said the hunchback, "we'll get on the other
side of that door, and then we'll be safe. Here we are."
They reached the door at the back of the shop, and the hunchback opened
it and pulled Freddie into the back room and closed the door behind
them. Freddie hung back a little, but his hand was gripped tight, and he
couldn't have got away if he had tugged with all his might. He was not
so much afraid now of Mr. Punch and his father, but he didn't know what
this little man was going to do with him; and besides, his father had
told him to hurry.
In this back room, near a window which looked out on the street, sat a
lady. The hunchback marched Freddie up to her and stopped there before
her, and wagged his head sidewise towards the Little Boy. The hunchback
and the Little Boy stood hand in hand, and the lady looked at them
steadily.
CHAPTER II
AUNT AMANDA AND THE TWO OLD CODGERS
"Here's Aunt Amanda," said the hunchback, standing before the lady who
was sitting near the window, and letting go of Freddie's hand, "and
here's a boy that Mr. Punch pretty near got hold of, if I hadn't come
along just in time and hustled him in here. Just look out of that
window, Aunt Amanda, and see if Mr. Punch has moved yet."
The lady did not look out of the window, but stared at Freddie with her
mouth shut tight. She had very thin lips and she pressed them tight
together; and without opening them more than a wee mite she said to the
hunchback, sternly:
"Obelilackyoomuptwonyerix."
Freddie could not understand this at all. He looked at her closely. She
was very thin, and had a high beaked nose and reddish hair and a reddish
skin, and on the left side of her chin was a mole, with three little
reddish hairs sticking out of it; she wore a rusty black dress, very
tight above the waist and very wide below, and in the bosom of this
dress were sticking dozens, maybe hundreds, for all Freddie could tell,
of pins and needles. She must have been very tall when she stood up. A
cane leaned against the back of her chair; she was a little lame; not
very lame, but enough to make her limp when she walked, and to make her
cane useful in getting about. If she had had a stiff starched ruff about
her neck and a lace thing on her head pointed in front, she would have
done very well for Queen Elizabeth, the one you see the picture of in
that history-book. There was a thimble on the second finger of her right
hand, and a pair of scissors hung by a tape at her waist; and around her
neck she wore a measuring tape. On the floor at her feet lay a pile of
goods, and some of it was in her lap; the kind of goods that Mother has
around her when she is turning and making over that old blue serge, and
gathers up out of Father's way when she hears him coming in towards the
sitting-room.
At Aunt Amanda's elbow stood an oval marble-topped table, and besides a
work-basket there were several fascinating things on it. In the center
was a glass dome, and under the glass dome was the most beautiful basket
of wax flowers--calla lilies mostly, with a wonderful yellow spike like
a finger sticking up out of each one. On one side of the wax flowers was
a thick book with blue plush covers, and the word "Album" across it in
slanting gold letters. On the other side was a kind of a--well, it had a
handle under a piece of wood to hold it up by, and a frame at one end to
stick up a picture in, and two pieces of thick glass in a frame at the
other end to look through at the picture and make the picture look
all--_you_ know!--as if the people in the back of it were a long way
behind, and the people in front right close up in front, and all that;
Freddie's father had one.
The chairs in the room had thin curved legs and those slippery
horse-hair seats which Freddie hated to sit on. On the walls were
portraits in oval frames of men with chin-whiskers and no mustaches, and
ladies in shawls and bonnets; but there was one square frame, and it had
no picture under its glass, but a sheaf of real wheat, standing up as
natural as life, with some kind of curly writing over it; it was simply
beautiful. There was a clock on the marble mantel-piece, tall and
square-cornered, with a clear circle in the glass below where you could
see the round weight of the pendulum go back and forth, and a picture
of the sun on the face, very red, with a big nose and eyes, and stiff
red hair floating off from it.
Aunt Amanda stuck a pin in the goods in her lap and folded her hands.
Freddie, after glancing around the room, looked at her again and
wondered who she was; plain sewing she was, that was sure, also an aunt;
and besides that, although Freddie did not know it, she was an old--I
hate to say it, though it wasn't anything really against her, if you
come to that,--an old--well, you know what you call them behind their
backs, or shout after them as they go down the street and then whip
around the corner when they turn, just simply because they haven't ever
been married, like Mother,--well, then, an Old Maid.
Being an Old Maid, she of course wore no wedding ring; but on her
wedding-finger, the third finger of her left hand, there was a mark at
the place where a wedding ring would have been; a kind of birth-mark,
ruby red, in shape and size like the ruby stone of a ring. Freddie
looked at it often afterwards.
"Now you look here, Aunt Amanda," said her nephew, taking hold of
Freddie's hand again, "you know well enough I can't understand you with
all them pins--"
Aunt Amanda put a hand to her lips and drew out of her mouth a pin and
stuck it in the bosom of her dress. She put her hand to her lips again
and drew forth another pin and stuck it in the bosom of her dress. She
drew forth another and another, and stuck each one in her dress.
Freddie's eyes opened wide; did this lady eat pins? Her mouth seemed to
be full of them; didn't they hurt? It didn't seem possible she could eat
them, and yet there they were. No wonder she couldn't talk plainly.
There seemed to be no end to the pins, but there was, and at last her
mouth was clear of them so that she could talk.
"Toby Littleback," said she, "you're up to one o' your tricks again.
Ain't you ashamed of yourself?" That was what she had meant by saying,
"Obelilackyoomuptwonyerix," with her mouth full of pins.
Toby was quite crestfallen. "Well," he said, "I guess it ain't no
hangin' matter. All I done was to bring the boy in to see you. 'N' this
is what I get fer it every time. I ain't a-going to bring 'em in any
more, that's flat."
"Let go o' the child," said Aunt Amanda, sharply. "Can't you see you're
hurting his hand? Come here, boy."
Mr. Littleback dropped Freddie's hand and walked over to the table
beside his aunt. Freddie came forward timidly and stood at Aunt Amanda's
knee. She examined him carefully.
"It's the best one yet," she said. "Boy, do you know you're as pretty as
a--Well, anyway, what is your name?"
If there was one thing Freddie loathed, it was to be called pretty; he
had heard it before, in the parlor at home, when he had been trotted out
to be inspected by female visitors, and he had tried many a time to
scrub off the rosy redness from his cheeks, but he had found it only
made it worse. He hung his head a little, and could not find his voice.
Aunt Amanda took his chin in her hand and gently held up his head.
"It's all right, my dear," said she. "What is your name, now?"
"Fweddie," said the Little Boy.
"It ain't neither!" cried Mr. Littleback. "There ain't no such name.
It's Freddie! Come on, now, say Freddie!"
"Fweddie," said the Little Boy.
"No, no!" cried Toby. "Try it again, now. Say Freddie!"
"Toby," said Aunt Amanda, "shut up. Freddie, I haven't any little boy,
and I don't get out very much, and I'd like you to come and see me
sometimes. Would you like to do that?"
Freddie stared at her, and said, "Yes'm."
"I hope you will, often. Be sure you do. I suppose you don't like
gingerbread? Toby."
The little hunchback went out briskly through a back door and returned
with a slice of gingerbread. "Baked today," said his aunt. "But what
time is it? Quarter to six. Too near suppertime. You mustn't eat it now,
Freddie. Toby, wrap it up."
Toby went into the shop and returned with a paper sack, and putting the
gingerbread into it gave it to Freddie.
"Now," said Aunt Amanda, "take it home with you and eat it after supper.
Will you come to see me?"
"Yes'm," said Freddie as if he meant it. You couldn't get gingerbread at
home between meals every day in the week.
"That's a good boy. Now run away home."
"Please, sir," said Freddie, holding out the money in his hand, "my
farver wants half a pound of Cage-Roach Mitchner."
"What? Oh!" said Toby. "I see. Half a pound of Stage-Coach Mixture. All
right, young feller, come along into the shop."
"Good-bye, Freddie, and don't break the gingerbread before you get
home," said Aunt Amanda, taking into her mouth a palmful of pins with a
back toss of her head. Had she swallowed them? Freddie stared at her in
alarm.
"Ain't you never comin' for the tobacco?" said Toby. "I can't keep all
them customers in the shop waiting all day."
Freddie followed him into the shop.
"You'll have to wait your turn, young feller," said Toby. "I can't keep
these customers waiting no longer. What'll you have, Mr. Applejohn?"
Freddie looked around for Mr. Applejohn, but so far as he could see
there was no one in the shop but himself and Mr. Littleback. The
hunchback went through the swinging gate and stood behind the counter,
and looked over it (his head and shoulders just came over the top) at
Mr. Applejohn.
"No," said Toby, "we're just out of it. Very sorry. But I have something
just as good. No? Well, then, come around tomorrow; yes, sir; between
ten and eleven. Now, then, Tom, it's your turn. You want what? No, sir,
I won't sell no cigarettes to no boy, so you can clear out. You ought to
be ashamed o' yourself, smoking cigarettes at your age. No use arguin',
I won't do it. You can get right out o' here." The big wooden-looking
head winked an eye at Freddie. "That's the way I treat 'em. Did you see
how he skipped off in a hurry? You saw him go, didn't you?"
Freddie looked at the door. He hadn't seen anybody, but after all that
talk there must have been somebody there; he couldn't be sure; probably
he had been mistaken about it; grown-up people ought to know what they
were talking about; perhaps he _had_ seen somebody. He hesitated.
"I--I think so; I believe so; yes, sir."
"Don't you fool yourself, young man. You can't smoke cigarettes if you
ever want to grow up. Look at me. Do you see this?" He turned his back
and reached over his shoulder to his hump. "Cigarettes. That's what done
it. Cigarettes. I smoked 'em along with my bottle of milk, regular, when
I was a kid, and look at me now, not much bigger than Mr. Punch out
there. Cigarettes. Maybe you might think it was the bottle o' milk done
it, instead of the cigarettes, being as they was at the same time; but
don't you never believe it. Cigarettes! You keep off of 'em. Now
pipe-tobacco! That's a different thing. If I'd only stuck to a pipe,
along with that bottle o' milk, look how high I'd 'a' been now! What
kind o' tobacco did you say your farver wanted? Housewife's Favorite?"
"No, sir," said Freddie. "My farver he wants half a pound of Cage-Roach
Mitchner."
"That's it," said Toby. "I don't see how I come to forget that name.
Your father's a man o' good common sense. Nothing like Cage-Roach. Here
it is." He turned to the shelf behind him and mounted a little ladder
and took down a large tin. While he was scooping out the tobacco at the
counter and weighing it on the scales and doing it up, he was singing to
himself, and Freddie stared at him with rapt attention.
"Some day," said Mr. Littleback, without pausing in his work or looking
at Freddie, "them eyes of yourn will pop right out of your head, if you
ain't careful. Did you ever hear that song?"
"No, sir," said Freddie.
"Would you like to hear it?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie.
"It's about two old codgers--friends of mine; they come in here regular.
One of 'em's a good customer and pays spot cash; the other one never
buys nothing; and I can't say which one of 'em I like worse. Anyway,
here's how it goes:
"Oh-h-h! There was an old codger, and he had a wooden leg,
And he never bought tobacco when tobacco he could beg."
"Don't you never let yourself get into that habit, young man. Always buy
your tobacco fair and square. I've known 'em--this feller and many
another one--never have a grain o' tobacco left in their pouch--just
used up the very last bit two minutes before, and always a-beggin' a
pipeful, and right here in my own shop too, where I _sell_ tobacco, mind
you--I'd like 'em better if they sneaked in and _stole_ it, I would, any
day. But the other one! I don't know that I'd want to be him neither, if
I had to choose between 'em,--however--
"Another old codger, as sly as a fox!
And he always had tobacco in his old tobacco box.
"Count on him for that! _He_ never begs no tobacco, nor gives away none
either. However, he ain't such a general nuisance as the other one, and
he pays spot cash. I'll have to say that much for him. But in spite o'
everything and all, I can't seem to make myself care for him, much.
Anyway--
"Said the one old codger, Won't ye gimme a chew?
Said the other old codger, I'll be hanged if I do!
"They're a fine pair now, ain't they? One of 'em a nuisance and the
other one a grouch. You'll see 'em here both in my shop one o' these
days, when you're a-visitin' Aunt Amanda, and one of them times--you see
the way I bounced that boy that wanted cigarettes, didn't you? Well,
that's what I'm goin' to do to them two old codgers one of these days,
you watch and see if I don't; yes, sir; both of 'em, as sure as I've got
a hump on my back. But it's pretty good advice, after all, what the song
says,--
"So save up your pennies and put away your rocks,
And you'll always have tobacco in your old tobacco box!
"Here's your Cage-Roach. Gimme your money. There's your change; five,
ten, fifteen, seventeen. Now run along. Come back again; what did you
say your name was?"
"Fweddie."
"You mean Freddie, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Why don't you say what you mean? Well, Freddie, there's plenty of
tobacco left in this shop, so you can come in whenever the old tobacco
box at home runs out. And don't forget to come in to see Aunt Amanda.
Plenty of goods left in the shop whenever--you see all that?" He pointed
up towards the shelves. "I'll tell you something I ain't told to but
mighty few people before. There's a jar of smoking tobacco up there
that's just plain magic. Magic! You know what that means?"
Freddie started, and looked up at the shelves in alarm. He nodded.
"It's that one, on the middle shelf; the Chinaman's head. Do you see
it?"
He pointed to a white porcelain jar, shaped like a human head. Freddie
could see that it was the head of some foreign kind of man, with a
little round blue cap on top, which was probably the lid.
"That tobacco in that Chinaman's head is magic, as sure as you're alive.
I wouldn't smoke it if you'd give me all the plum puddings in this city
next Christmas; no, sir; and I wouldn't allow nobody else to smoke it,
neither: I just naturally wouldn't dare to. Do you know where that
tobacco come from? A sailor off of one them ships down there in the
harbor, that come all the way from China--yes, sir, _China!_--give it to
me once for a quid of plug-cut; what you might call broke, he was, and
it wasn't any use to him because he didn't smoke, but he did chew; and
he told me all about it; he stole it from an old sorcerer in China,
where he'd just come from. Don't you never touch it! I wouldn't want to
be in your boots if you ever smoked that tobacco in that there
Chinaman's head! You can steal anything else in this shop, and it
wouldn't do much harm to anybody; but you keep your hands off of that
Chinaman's tobacco, mind what I'm telling you!"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie. He had never thought about smoking before, in
connection with himself, but now for the first time he began to wish
that he knew how to smoke. It would be worth risking something to take a
whiff or two of the magic tobacco in that Chinaman's head, just to see
what would happen.
"Do you think you'd better go home now?" said Mr. Littleback.
"Yes, sir," said Freddie. "My farver told me to hurry."
"Oh, he did! Indeed!"
The hunchback followed Freddie to the door, and they looked up together
at the clock in the church-tower.
"Ah!" said Toby. "You're safe. Just six o'clock. Mr. Punch's father
can't come out for about half an hour yet."
Freddie looked back as he crossed the street, and saw the live hunchback
leaning against the wooden hunchback, with one foot crossed over the
other; he could hardly tell which was which, except for the coat and
breeches. He went on up the street with his package of tobacco in one
hand and his package of gingerbread in the other. As he passed the
church, he lingered a moment to stare at the great fat man with
spectacles, who was sitting on the pavement in a chair tilted back
against the church-wall, smoking a long pipe and reading a newspaper;
could this be the "sextant" of the church, whom Mr. Toby had mentioned,
and who had heard the queer noises from the top of the tower when Mr.
Punch and his father were up there having their high jinks? He tried to
get up his courage to ask the fat man about it, but he could not get the
words out. He stared so long that the fat man finally put down his paper
and took the pipe from his mouth and looked over his spectacles and
said:
"If you're considerin' making a bid for the property, young man, I'll
see what the senior Churchwarden has to say about it. How much do you
offer?"
"No, sir," said Freddie, blushing in confusion, and went on up the
street. He understood nothing of what the fat man had said, but he
caught the word "churchwarden," and remembered it.
He did not walk very fast, for he had a good deal to think about; so
many things had never happened to him in one day before. He dwelt
especially, in his mind, on the two old codgers who were friends of Mr.
Toby, and he supposed that his own father never saved up his pennies,
otherwise his old tobacco box would not be empty every now and then.
However, he was glad that his father was a spendthrift, because it would
give him a chance to go to the Old Tobacco Shop sometimes for more
tobacco for the box; and apart from Aunt Amanda and her gingerbread, he
was very anxious to look again at the Chinaman's head in which lay the
magic tobacco which he must not touch. One thing was sure; he would
never go without looking carefully first at the hands of the clock. He
wished he knew how to smoke; only not cigarettes; he shivered when he
thought of the terrible consequences.
When he came to the street-car track, the horse-car was going past; at
least, it was coming down the street, and he did not want to be run over
by that horse; he had better wait, for the horse was trotting; his
mother had warned him about it; he sat down on the curb. He had quite a
moment or two to wait, and there would be time to give a hasty glance at
the gingerbread. He laid the tobacco-sack beside him on the curb, and
opened the other package; the car-horse had dropped into a walk and his
bell was hardly jingling; there was no hurry after all; it would never
do to cross in front of that horse even though he was walking. He looked
at the gingerbread; it was fresh and soft, and its smell, when held
close to the nose, was nothing less than heavenly; it was a pity it had
to be hidden away again in the sack, but the horse was going by and the
danger would soon be past. He held the gingerbread under his nose,
merely to smell it; the edge of it touched his upper lip by chance, and
there was something peculiar about the feel of it, he couldn't tell
exactly what; it was very interesting; he touched it with the tip of his
tongue, to see if it felt the same to his tongue as to his lip; it was
just the same; perhaps teeth would be different; his teeth sank into it,
just for a trial. The horse was going by now, and the driver was looking
at him. He forgot what he was about, in watching the horse and his
driver, as they went on past him; the gingerbread completely slipped his
mind, and when he turned his head back from the horse-car and came to
himself he found, to his amazement, that his mouth was full of
gingerbread. He wondered at first how it got there, but there was no use
in wondering; there it was, and it had to be swallowed; his mother would
never approve of his spitting it out; and so, to please his mother, he
swallowed it. The horse-car was nearly a square away; he could cross the
track at any time now; there was no hurry.
When he came into the fine two-story brick house where he lived, with
only one package in his hand, his mother threw up her hands and said:
"Why, Freddie! Where on earth have you been? Did you get lost? Are you
hungry?"
"No'm. Yes'm," said Freddie.
"Frederick," said his father, looking at him with that look, "where have
you been? Didn't I tell you to hurry?"
"Yes, sir, to Mr. Punch's, and I didn't see his farver at all, but the
hands come'd right over on top of each other and he didn't get down off
of his perch, he didn't, so Mr. Toby took me in to see Aunt Namanda and
she eats pins, and it's cigarettes that gives you that hump on the back,
only tobacco's all right 'cause you smoke it in a pipe and it doesn't do
you any harm at all, and that's what Mr. Toby says and he ought to know
'cause he's got one on his back his own self, but you mustn't touch that
tobacco in the head 'cause it's magic and the sailor said so, and here's
the Cage-Roach Mitchner, and that's all."
You will notice that he said nothing about the gingerbread.
CHAPTER III
INTRODUCING THE CHURCHWARDEN
Every time Freddie visited the Old Tobacco Shop after that--and it was
pretty often, whether the tobacco box at home needed tobacco or not, for
there were a good many things that drew him there, and he hardly knew
which was the most fascinating: there was always a chance of
gingerbread, and you could usually depend on seeing Aunt Amanda eat
pins, and you could look through the two pieces of glass at the double
picture and make it all one picture with the people in it standing out
as if they were real, and Mr. Toby would often sing about his friends
the two old Codgers and talk about their mean ways, and Mr. Punch was
always waiting for his father outside the door, so that you had to keep
your eyes on the time, or at least the clock (which is different), and
sometimes Mr. Toby would let you in behind the counter and let you scoop
tobacco into a paper sack, and when his back was turned you could stand
under the Chinaman's head with the magic tobacco in it, and look up at
it and wonder what would happen if you took just one or two little teeny
whiffs--But I forget what I started to tell you. Oh, yes. Every time
Freddie visited the Old Tobacco Shop, Mr. Toby would ask him his name,
in order to see if he was grown up yet.
"What's your name today?" Mr. Toby would say.
"Fweddie," would be the Little Boy's answer.
"Not yet," Mr. Toby would say, shaking his head sadly. "You ain't grown
up yet. I'm very sorry to have to tell you, son, but you've got to wait
a while before you're grown up. I'll tell you what; I'll give you six
months more," said Mr. Toby on one occasion. "If you ain't grown up by
that time, there's no hope for you; I hate to have to say it, but you
might as well know it one time as another." And the very next time the
Little Boy came he said his name was "Fweddie," and Mr. Toby said,
"Well, never mind, you've got five months and twenty-eight days left,
and there's hope yet. I suppose you wouldn't want to be a Little Boy
_all_ the time, and never grow up at all, would you?" Freddie looked up
at him in alarm and said, "No, sir." "Then," said Mr. Toby, "you'd
better mind your P's and Q's."
Freddie wanted to ask about these P's and Q's, but you may have noticed
that he was shy, and he could not make up his mind to do so. He knew all
about P's and Q's in the Alphabet Book at home, but he did not know how
to mind them; he knew how to mind his mother,--sometimes, but how could
you mind letters in a book, that couldn't ever say "Don't do that," like
mother? He was very anxious on this point, for he knew that his time was
growing short, and the idea of never growing up was simply terrifying;
he might as well smoke cigarettes and be done with it. In point of fact,
he now had only about a week left, and he wasn't grown up yet.
But one morning, when the hands of the church clock were wide apart, and
all was safe, he passed by Mr. Punch and opened the shop door. Mr. Toby
was standing behind the counter, tying up a parcel. He went on tying it
up, and said:
"All right, young feller, it's your turn next. This here package is for
the Sly Old Codger, and he'll be back for it pretty soon, and if it
ain't ready,--whew! won't we get blown up, though? Now then, what'll you
have? Pound o' Maiden's Prayer?"
"No, sir," said the Little Boy. "I don't want anything. I just came."
"Oh; you just came. By the way, young man, what is your name today?"
"Freddie!" said the Little Boy.
Mr. Toby dropped his package and leaned across the counter in amazement.
"What's that you say?"
"Freddie!" cried the Little Boy, bursting with pride.
"Well! Bless my soul! If I ever in my life! As sure as the world! Strike
me dead if he didn't say it as plain as--! Young man," said Mr. Toby,
solemnly, and he walked to the end of the counter, opened the swinging
gate, came through, stood in front of Freddie, and shook him by the
hand. "Young man, I congratulate you. It's all right now. But you had an
almighty close shave, I can tell you that. Allow me to congratulate you,
and accept the best wishes of your kind friend, Toby Littleback."
"Please, sir," said Freddie, opening his eyes wide, "am I grown up now?"
Mr. Toby stared without speaking, and then threw out both his arms, and
for a moment it looked as if he were going to hug the Little Boy, but he
evidently thought better of it.
"Are you--? Why, of course you are! Ain't I been telling you? But don't
you go and presume on it too much, young feller! You don't think you can
go and smoke cigarettes now, just because you're grown up, do you?"
"Oh no, sir," said Freddie, earnestly.
"I should hope not. And that there Chinaman's head up there--you don't
think you can go and smoke that magic tobacco now, do you? Because if
you do!"
"No, sir," said Freddie; but he said this a little doubtfully, and he
looked at the Chinaman's head with more interest than ever. What was the
use of being grown up if you couldn't take a little risk now and then?
"All right, then!" cried Mr. Toby. "We've got to have a little
celebration over this here event, and we'd better go in and see Aunt
Amanda about it, right now!"
He grasped Freddie's hand again, and pulled him to the back door, and
through into the back room where Aunt Amanda was sitting by the table
with the wax flowers, sewing.
"Quick! quick! Tell Aunt Amanda your name now, quick! What's your name?"
cried Mr. Toby.
"Freddie!" said the Little Boy, very distinctly, but looking down at the
carpet, for fear he should seem proud.
"We're grown up today," cried Mr. Toby, "and we've got to celebrate!"
Aunt Amanda raised her eyebrows in astonishment, and said:
"Esheeraybysart!"
She put her hand to her mouth and somehow got out into her hand a good
mouthful of pins. She laid them down on the table at her elbow, and
said:
"Bless the dear baby's heart! And are you grown up now?"
"Yes'm," said Freddie, looking up and then down again, for he did not
wish to seem too proud.
Aunt Amanda looked at him for a moment, and took out her handkerchief
and blew her nose very loud.
"Toby," she said, "what did you mean by a celebration?"
"Tomorrow's Saturday," said he.
"Well, what of it?"
Freddie could not understand very well what they were saying after that,
except that he was concerned in it somehow, until he heard Aunt Amanda
say:
"You'd better ask his mother, then."
"Young man," said Mr. Toby, "if I write a letter to your ma, will you
give it to her?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, whereupon Mr. Toby sat down at the other side
of the table, with pen and paper and ink, and commenced to write.
"First," said Aunt Amanda, "there's some of that fruit-cake from last
Christmas still in the--"
"Right you are!" cried Toby, jumping up and going out into the kitchen.
Freddie ate the fruit-cake, sitting on a hassock at Aunt Amanda's feet,
while Toby went on with his letter, but in the midst of it Toby went out
again, and finally came back with a tall glass of ice-cold lemonade.
"Don't you go and spill it on the carpet," said he, as he sat down to
his writing.
"No, sir," said Freddie.
Aunt Amanda looked at him, as he sat so seriously on his hassock at her
feet, munching his fruit-cake and sipping his lemonade; and she pulled
out her pocket-handkerchief and blew her nose again, very loud. She
appeared to have a cold. Toby paid no attention to her; his head was
lying sidewise on his left arm on the table, and he was squinting at the
sheet of paper, and every time his pen came down he closed his mouth
tight, and every time his pen went up he opened his mouth wide. Freddie
and Aunt Amanda had plenty of time to talk. Under the softening
influence of fruit-cake and lemonade Freddie found his tongue.
"What's a Churchwarden?" he said suddenly into the lemonade-glass, which
was just under his nose.
"Bless the baby!" said Aunt Amanda.
"It's a long clay pipe, young man," said Toby, chewing the end of his
pen-holder, "like you've seen in the case out there in the shop."
"That ain't what he means," said Aunt Amanda. "You mean a man, don't
you, Freddie?"
"Yes'm," said Freddie, looking at the cake just going into his mouth.
"It's a man," said Aunt Amanda, "it's a man that belongs to a church,
and he stands guard over the church property, and sees to the repairs,
and beats little boys with a cane when they make a noise during service,
and takes care nobody don't run away with the collection money, and----"
"How do you spell 'respectfully'?" said Toby, scratching his head with
the pen. "Yours respectfully."
"R-e--" began Aunt Amanda, "s-p-e-c-k--no, that ain't right,--r-e-s--"
"There's one over at that church," said Freddie, pointing towards the
window, "and he smokes one, too."
"One what, Freddie?" said Aunt Amanda.
"A Churchwarden. There's a Churchwarden sits out on the pavement and he
smokes a Churchwarden, he does." Freddie was rather proud that he had
mastered that difficult word, and he liked to hear himself say it.
"Oh," said Toby, "I reckon he means the sextant over there. Well, 'Yours
respectfully.' I don't give a--hum!--how you spell it. There she goes.
Done. 'Yours respectfully, Toby Littleback.' It's blotted up some, by
crackey, that's a fact; but I ain't a-goin' to write all that over
again, not by a jugful." And he took out his handkerchief and wiped the
perspiration from his forehead.
"He's a Churchwarden," insisted Freddie, swallowing the last of the
lemonade after the last of the cake.
"All right," said Toby, "have it your own way. But a sextant's as good
as a Churchwarden, in _my_ opinion, any day of the week,--except Sunday,
of course."
Aunt Amanda inspected the letter, and declared herself horrified by the
blots; but Toby positively refused to go through that exhausting labor
again, so she passed it grudgingly, and handed it to Freddie in an
envelope, and told him to give it to his mother as soon as he got home.
"Do you want some more cake and lemonade?" said she.
"Yes'm," said he.
"Well, you won't get it, so trot along home."
In the shop Mr. Toby showed him the churchwarden pipes in the show-case.
Freddie wondered how it would taste to smoke some of that magic tobacco
in the Chinaman's head in a churchwarden pipe.
As he passed the church on his way home, he looked for the fat old man
who usually sat in his chair tilted back against the wall, but he was
not there. Freddie wished to ask him about those noises up in the tower
when Mr. Punch and his father were having their high jinks; he had never
been able to screw up his courage to the point of asking about this, but
now that he was grown up he thought he might be able.
He gave the letter to his mother, and she read it; but she said nothing
to him about it. When his father came home in the evening, she showed
the letter to him, and they talked about it, and Freddie could not
understand very well what they were saying. Finally his father said:
"Well, I don't think there would be any harm in it."
"I suppose not," said his mother. "I'll see them in the morning. He had
better wear his Sunday suit and his new shoes."
This was bad, because it sounded like Sunday-school, and the shoes
squeaked. Freddie thought he had better change the subject, so he said:
"I'm grown up. I can say Freddie. Mr. Toby says so."
His father laughed, but his mother took him up in her arms and hugged
him close to her breast.
The next day was in fact Saturday, and after lunch Freddie's mother
helped him, or rather forced him, into his Sunday suit and his new
shoes, after a really outrageous piece of washing, which went not only
behind the ears but actually into them. She put his cap on his head--he
always had to move it a trifle afterwards,--looked at his finger-nails
again, pulled down his jacket in front and buttoned every button,
straightened out each of the four wings of his bow tie, took off his cap
to see if his hair was mussed and put it on again, pulled down his
jacket in front, straightened his tie, altered the position of his cap,
put both her arms around him and kissed him, and told him it was nearly
two o'clock and he had better hurry. As soon as she had gone in, after
watching him go off down the street, he unbuttoned every button of his
jacket, put his cap on the back of his head, and in crossing the
street-car track deliberately walked his shiny squeaking shoes into a
pile of street-sweepings; he then felt better, and went on towards the
Old Tobacco Shop.
As he came to the church, he stopped to look at the hands of the clock;
he was in luck; the hands would not be together for ever so long, for it
was ten minutes to two. The Churchwarden was sitting in his chair tilted
back against the wall, keeping guard over his church; and he was smoking
his churchwarden pipe. Freddie walked by very slowly, and his shoes
squeaked aloud on the brick pavement. The fat old man gazed at him
solemnly, and Freddie looked at the fat old man. The Churchwarden's
chair came down on the pavement with a thump.
"Look here!" he said. "This ain't Sunday! What's the meaning of all
this? It's against the rules to wear them squeaking shoes of a Saturday!
The Dean and Chapter has made that rule, by and with the advice and
consent of the City Council, don't you know that? And all that big red
necktie, too! Did you think it was Sunday?"
"No, sir," said Freddie, for he was always honest, even in the face of
danger. "I couldn't help it. I didn't want to, but mother made me----"
"Ah! that's it. I thought maybe you'd made a mistake in the day; then it
wouldn't 'a' been so bad. Look here; it's my duty to report this here
violation of the Sunday law, but as long as--you're sure you ain't
_particeps criminis_?"
"No, sir," said the Little Boy earnestly. "My name's Freddie."
"Well, that makes it different. I though you was another party; young
party-ceps; but if you ain't, why--Here; you'll need something to show,
in case you should meet the Archdeacon, and he'd want to know why I
hadn't reported you--Show him this, and he'll know it's all right."
The fat Churchwarden fished in his vest pocket and drew out, between a
fat thumb and a fat forefinger, a round shining piece of metal, and put
it in Freddie's hand. Freddie saw that it was a bright new five-cent
piece, commonly called a nickel. He felt better.
"If you don't meet the Archdeacon between here and Littleback's Tobacco
Shop," went on the Churchwarden, "you don't need to keep it any longer;
I don't care what you do with it then; only not pickles, mind you!"
"No sir," said Freddie.
This was his chance to inquire about Mr. Punch's father and the noises
in the tower, but it was out of his power to stay longer; he was too
glad to escape without being reported; and he accordingly went off down
the street, squeaking worse than ever, and positively hurrying.
CHAPTER IV
IN WHICH MR. HANLON MAKES A GREAT IMPRESSION
Freddie found no one in the Tobacco Shop, so he knocked on the door of
the back room, and it was instantly opened by Mr. Littleback himself;
but a Mr. Littleback so resplendent that Freddie hardly knew him.
The suit of clothes which Mr. Littleback wore was beyond any doubt a
brand new suit. The ground color of it was a rich mauve, if you know
what that is; not exactly purple, nor violet, but somewhere in between;
and up and down and across were stripes of brown, making good-sized
squares all over him; it was extremely beautiful. His collar was a high
white collar, very stiff, and it held up his chin in front like a
whitewashed fence. His necktie was of a pale-blue satin, with little
pink roses painted on it, yes sir, painted! mind you, by hand! It was
not one of those troublesome things that come in a single long piece and
take you hours before the glass to twist and turn over and under before
you can get them to look like a necktie; no indeed; it was far better
than that; it was tied already, by somebody who could do it better than
you ever could, and when you bought it, all you had to do was to put it
on; fasten those two rubber bands behind with a hook, and there you
were; perfect. As to hair, the hand of the barber was yet upon him; his
hair, parted on one side, was of a slickness which his own soap never
could have accomplished; on the wide side, it lay flat down over his
forehead, and there gave a sudden curl backward, like the curve of a
hairpin, but much more graceful; it is only the most studious barbers
who ever learn to do it just right. There were creases down the arms of
Mr. Toby's coat and down the front of his trouser-legs. A yellow silk
handkerchief showed itself, not boldly, but quietly, from his breast
pocket.
As he let Freddie in, and in doing so turned his back to Aunt Amanda,
she screamed and cried out:
"Toby! Look behind you! Merciful heavens!"
Freddie, in the midst of his admiration of the magnificent creature, saw
him whirl about and look behind himself in alarm. His aunt pointed at
his coat and said sternly, "Come here."
Freddie saw on the back of Mr. Toby's coat, near the bottom, as he
whirled about, a little square white tag.
Mr. Toby backed up to his aunt, and stood before her, trying to look at
his back over his shoulder, while she took her scissors and clipped the
threads by which the white tag was sewed to the back of his coat. She
held up the tag; it had numbers printed and written on it.
"Now ain't that just like you, Toby Littleback," she said, "going out
with your tag on your back, with your size on it and your height and
age, too, for all I know, for anybody to see that you've got on a
splittin' brand new suit right out o' the shop. If you'd 'a' gone out
with that on your back, I'd 'a' died with shame right here in this
chair. Ain't you even able to dress yourself?"
"By crickets, that _would_ 'a' been bad," said Toby, considerably upset.
"However, you caught it in time, so there ain't no use cryin' over it.
Good-bye, Aunt; come along, Freddie, or we'll be late."
"Ain't you goin' to wear a hat?" said Aunt Amanda. "I declare the man's
so excited he don't know what he's doing."
"Blamed if I didn't come near going without a hat," said Toby. "Here she
is."
He produced his hat from a cupboard in the room, and put it on. It would
have been a pity indeed for him to have gone without it. It was a white
derby; yes, a _white_ derby. It was the kind of a hat which was known in
that city as a "pinochle"; pronounced "pea-knuckle" by all well-informed
boys. With the mauve suit and the hand-painted necktie and the
whitewashed fence, the white derby set him off to perfection, especially
as he wore it a little towards the back of his head, so as to show the
loveliest part of the plastered curl of his hair on the forehead. Aunt
Amanda could not restrain her admiration.
"You'll do now," she said. "I don't know that I ever seen you look so
genteel before."
Toby, in the embarrassment of being considered genteel, put his hands in
his trousers pockets.
"Take them hands out of your pockets," said Aunt Amanda sharply, and he
took them out in a hurry.
"Now, Freddie," she said, "come here a minute, and I'll set you to
rights."
Freddie stood before her knee, not very willingly, and she buttoned his
jacket from top to bottom, and put his cap squarely on his head.
"Now you'd better be off," she said.
"Good-bye, Aunt, and I wish you were going too," said Toby, his hand on
the door-knob.
"Good-bye, Freddie," said she.
"Good-bye," said Freddie.
"Good-bye what?" said she.
"Aunt Amanda," said he.
When they were out in the street, and she heard Toby lock the shop door
behind him, she took out her handkerchief and blew her nose; her cold
was evidently worse, because she blew her nose several times; and then,
tucking her handkerchief away in her dress, she put her head down on
her arm on the table, and cried.
The first thing Freddie did, as they went up the street, was to put his
cap back again on the back of his head, and the next thing he did was to
unbutton every button of his jacket, from top to bottom.
The little hunchback was in a great hurry, and he dragged the Little Boy
along by the hand so fast that he could hardly keep up. As they hurried
along, several naughty boys, observing Mr. Toby's white derby hat,
called after him, very rudely, "Pea-knuckle! pea-knuckle!" But Mr. Toby
paid no attention, and dragged Freddie along faster than ever.
"We don't want to miss any of it," said Mr. Toby. "Hurry up, boy."
They did not have far to go; only four or five "squares." They stopped
before a great grimy brick building with a great wide entrance-way.
"Here we are," said Toby.
"What does that say up there?" said Freddie.
"Gaunt Street Theatre," said Toby. "Hurry up."
Freddie hung back before a signboard on which was a picture of a slender
man dressed up in white clothing, very tight, with red and black squares
on it; he was leaning against a table; his head and face were a dead
white, except for red eyebrows, and a red spot in each cheek, and he had
no hair, but a smooth dead-white skin from his forehead to the back of
his neck. The peculiar thing was, that his head was on the table beside
him, and not on his neck. Freddie pointed to the writing underneath the
picture, and said:
"What does that say?"
"Hanlon's Superba," said Toby, pulling him along. "Hurry up! We'll be
late."
Mr. Littleback went to a little window in the wall, inside the
entrance-way, and spoke to a man in there, and evidently asked
permission to go in, and evidently got it; and they did go in, up a
flight of stairs, and found themselves suddenly among thousands and
thousands of people, as it seemed, all sitting in chairs facing the same
way, in a vast house lit up by gas light so that it was almost as bright
as day; and Toby and Freddie sat down in the very front row of these
people, and looked down over a railing in front of them on the heads of
thousands and thousands, as it seemed, of other people, all sitting in
chairs facing the same way. Everybody was facing towards a straight wall
at the other side of the house, which had pictures painted on it. At the
foot of this wall, in a kind of trench, there was a man at a piano, and
there were other men with fiddles big and little, and still others with
brass things, and they were all playing a tremendous tune together, but
just after Toby and Freddie had sat down, they stopped playing and Toby
nudged Freddie with his elbow, and said:
"Now, then, young feller, what do you think of this, eh? Just you wait!
Keep your eye on that curtain!"
He had no sooner said this than somewhere in the house somebody gave a
piercing whistle between his fingers, and in a minute there was such a
racket that it was impossible to talk. There must have been people above
them, and they must certainly have all been boys; for from up there
Freddie heard a clapping of hands and a stamping of feet, all in a
regular time, which spread to the whole house, and in the midst of it
the boys up there began to shout and call and whistle, and in a few
minutes there was such a hubbub as only boys could make, with whistling
between the fingers leading the riot. Toby nudged Freddie again with his
elbow, and to Freddie's surprise began to clap his hands and stamp his
feet with the rest; and as Freddie thought he ought to be polite, he
clapped his hands, too, though he did not know very well what it was all
about.
Suddenly the men in the trench at the foot of the painted wall struck up
again, and that quieted the other noise for a moment; but only for a
moment; someone whistled through his fingers, and in an instant those
fiddlers might as well have been sawing away at their fiddles out at the
Park, for all you could hear them; and right in the midst of it all,
while Freddie was trying to shout the word "Peanuts" into Toby's ear,
suddenly the lights went out and you could have heard a pin drop.
"Now then! now then!" whispered Mr. Toby, in great excitement. "Now
you'll see! Watch the curtain! It's going up!"
From down there in that dark trench came the sound of a soft twittery
kind of music, and at the same time the painted wall that Freddie had
been looking at was rising! going up! And it went on up and up out of
sight into the ceiling, and there behind it, in a dim light, there
behind it, mysterious and fearsome and delicious,--Well, there behind it
was Fairyland. Just Fairyland.
I can't describe it to you. Freddie never forgot it. If you haven't seen
Hanlon's Superba, in some old Gaunt Street Theatre or other, on a
Saturday afternoon, with the galleries wild with boys, you have not
lived. When Freddie tried to tell his mother and his father about it
that night, it was such a whirling mass of wonders and glories that they
could not make head nor tail of it. It is useless to speak of the Fairy
Queen in her glittering white, coming to the rescue in the nick of time
with her diamond sceptre, or of the horrible demons, or the trouble and
excitement they made for everybody, or of the beautiful young lady
who--and such leapings and twistings and climbings and tumblings as no
mere human beings with bones in them could ever have performed--it is no
use; it is best not to try to describe it. But there was one part
which, although it may seem to you the most unlikely thing in the world,
really had a good deal to do with Freddie afterwards. There was the same
man whose picture he had seen outside on the signboard; and he could
climb straight walls and leap through high windows and tumble across
floors in a way which passed belief; but there was one thing he could
not do; he could not talk; he never spoke a word from beginning to end.
Once, after having escaped from a parcel of wicked red imps, he sat
down, tired out and starved to death, before a table loaded with food,
and he commenced to make a hearty meal; but just as he was about to
sample each plate it disappeared, vanished, completely out of sight,
right under his nose. His distress was pitiable, and Freddie thought it
cruel of everybody to laugh, as everybody did. On his plate were
sausages, and he nearly got them; but just as he thought he had them,
they actually jumped off the table and ran along the floor and up the
wall; and the poor man had to climb the wall after them, which he did
like a cat, and even then he never came up with them; he was terribly
disappointed; and to finish off his miseries, at last a wicked creature
with a sword came up behind him, as he was leaning his head down on the
table in despair, and cut off his head before your very eyes; really and
truly cut it off; there was no doubt about it; the head was on the table
and the poor man was in the chair; Freddie was terrified, and clutched
Mr. Toby's arm. But when the wicked murderer had gone away, back popped
the head onto the dead man's neck, his eyes opened, he grinned from ear
to ear, and there he was on his feet, skipping and tumbling, as lively
as ever; and at that Freddie and all the others in the house roared and
shouted and clapped their hands.
"Is that Mr. Hanlon?" whispered Freddie into Mr. Toby's ear.
"Reckon it is," said Toby, too excited himself to pay much attention to
Freddie.
But it could not last forever. Even the peanuts, which Toby bought for
Freddie between the first and second acts, were all gone, and the
curtain was down for the last time, and the crowd crushed through the
doors, and Mr. Toby put on his white derby hat.
They were in the street, and the speechless Mr. Hanlon was a thing of
the past. Freddie did not believe that he would ever see that dumb and
loose-headed man again; but in that he was mistaken, as you shall see.
Toby left him at the corner near his father's house.
"What I say is," said Toby, "three cheers for our growing-up party!"
"Yes," said Freddie, "and three cheers for Mr. Hanlon!"
CHAPTER V
THE CHINAMAN'S HEAD
For a long time afterwards, Freddie dreamed at night of a hunchbacked
man whose head came off and popped on again, and wicked red demons who
chased a poor man with a white face who tried to cry for help and could
not speak a word, and of a Chinaman's head without a body, smoking a
long clay pipe. In the daytime, he thought a good deal about the people
he was now acquainted with: Mr. Toby with his white derby hat, Aunt
Amanda swallowing pins, the sailorman from China, Mr. Punch and his
father, Mr. Hanlon with his head on the table, the Churchwarden smoking
his churchwarden pipe, and the two old Codgers, one so sly and the other
so beggarly; but that which occupied his mind more than anything else
was the Chinaman's head on Mr. Toby's shelf.
Freddie was older now, and as time went on it might be thought that he
would have grown accustomed to all these strange things; but he had not;
far from it; he thought about them more and more, and most of all about
the Chinaman's head and the magic tobacco. He really could not get that
Chinaman's head out of his mind. Here was magic just within reach of
your hand, and you were told that you mustn't touch it. You might as
well have Aladdin's lamp in your bureau drawer, and be told to keep away
from the bureau; even parents ought to know better than to expect such a
thing. Anyway, what harm could just one or two little whiffs do? You
needn't smoke a whole pipeful, if you didn't want to. However, Mr. Toby
would not be pleased, and Freddie did not intend to do anything to
displease Mr. Toby. Still, it did seem a pity, with such a chance right
over your head--Oh, well, he would think no more about it; he fixed his
mind on other things; he thought especially about a hymn they sang
nearly every Sunday in Sunday-school; it was a great help; he knew it by
heart, and it went like this:
"Yield not to temptation,
For yielding is sin,
Each vict'ry will help you
Some other to win."
He resolved he would never think about the magic tobacco again; he went
to sleep saying over to himself, "Yield not to temptation," and dreamed
all night about the Chinaman's head, and thought about it all the next
day.
In order to get it out of his mind, he called on Aunt Amanda. It was
late in the afternoon; he sat on his hassock and watched Aunt Amanda
sewing. Mr. Toby was in the shop, waiting on customers. Freddie watched
for a long time, and then said:
"What are you doing?"
"Basting," said Aunt Amanda.
"I thought that was what you did to a turkey," said Freddie.
"So it is," said Aunt Amanda.
"That isn't a turkey," said Freddie.
"No," said Aunt Amanda, "you baste a turkey with gravy."
"That isn't gravy," said Freddie.
"It's different," said Aunt Amanda. "You see, I have to sew this up with
needle and thread, and----"
"You sew up a turkey with needle and thread, too," said Freddie.
"But that's different," said Aunt Amanda. "You couldn't baste a turkey
with needle and thread, and you couldn't baste dress-goods with
gravy----"
"Why not?" said Freddie.
"Well," said Aunt Amanda, "well, you see, they don't do it that way;
it's _different_; it ain't the same thing at all; it's like this; when
you baste a turkey----"
"Have you ever had any children?" said Freddie.
Aunt Amanda put her hand to her heart suddenly, as if she had received a
shot there, and caught her breath; then she looked out of the window,
and then round at the wax flowers on the table, and then at the door,
and she really seemed to be thinking of running away. But she was too
lame to do that, and she at last clasped her fingers together tight in
her lap, and looked hard at Freddie. He was gazing at her calmly,
waiting for information.
"No," said Aunt Amanda, "I have never--had--any--children."
"Why not?" said Freddie.
"I have--never--been married," said Aunt Amanda.
Freddie thought about this for a moment.
"Didn't anybody ever want you?" said he.
"No," said she, "nobody--ever--wanted--me."
Freddie was puzzled.
"But you're nice," said he.
"That ain't enough," said Aunt Amanda.
"What else do you have to be?"
"You have to be pretty."
"Weren't you ever pretty?"
"I thought--so--once, but--but--I must have been mistaken. I guess I
never was."
Freddie thought it over, and announced his decision seriously.
"_I_ would want you, anyway."
Aunt Amanda stretched out a trembling hand to him and ran her fingers
through his hair; then she threw both her arms around him and pressed
him against her knee. He was much annoyed. He was afraid she might be
going to kiss him; but she did not; instead, she pulled out her
handkerchief and blew her nose.
"How many children were there that you didn't have?" said Freddie, to
change the subject. Aunt Amanda did not understand this at first, but
she finally saw what he meant. What _did_ he mean? you may say. What he
meant was--well, it is perfectly clear, but it is hard to explain.
Anyway, Aunt Amanda understood him. "Three," said she. "Bobby was the
oldest, and Jenny next, and James was the littlest one."
"Did they all go to school?"
"Oh dear no. Only Bobby. And once he played hookey, and was gone
all day, and didn't come home until after dark, all muddy. I
was terribly worried. He was a very mischievous boy, but he was
his--mother's--own----"
"Did he play marbles for keeps?"
"Yes, but he went to Sunday-school just as regular, and liked it,
and----"
"He _liked_ it?"
"Yes, of course, and he always took good care of Jenny----. She had
little yellow curls. They went to Sunday-school together hand in hand,
and he didn't even mind her carrying her dolly with her; she wouldn't go
without it. He was so careful of her at street-crossings. She loved her
dollies. She used to pretend that James was one of them."
"Did James like that?"
"Not very well, but he put up with it for quite a few minutes at a time.
He couldn't be still very long. But he was pretty lonesome when Jenny
had the measles."
"I've had the chicken-pox. Did Bobby know how to mind his P's and Q's?"
"He didn't mind anybody very well. Once I had a note from his teacher,
and it said----"
But Freddie never learned what sin Bobby had committed in school; for at
that moment the shop door opened, and Mr. Toby thrust in his head and
said:
"Just got to get around to the barber-shop right away this minute; can't
put it off no longer. Won't be gone twenty minutes. Freddie!"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, standing up.
"Do you think you could look after the shop for twenty minutes, while
I'm gone?"
Now Freddie did not know it, but this was in fact the most important
question that had ever been put to him in his life. Everything depended
on his answer; if he said no, we might as well stop this story right
here; if he said yes----
"Yes, sir," said Freddie.
"All right. If anybody comes in, just tell 'em to wait."
Freddie left Aunt Amanda, sitting very still, and gazing out of the
window, with her hands folded in her lap, and followed Mr. Toby into the
shop.
"All right, sonny," said Mr. Toby, "make yourself comfortable. I'll be
back in a jiffy. If anybody comes in, you tell 'em to wait." And with
that he went out of the door and up the street. Freddie was left alone
in the shop.
Everything was very quiet now, for it was beginning to be twilight, and
all the people seemed to be indoors. He knew he ought to be going home,
but he had promised to mind the shop, and it would never do to leave
before Mr. Toby came back. The street door and the door to Aunt Amanda's
room were both closed. He sat down on the chair by the front window and
looked out across the bull-dog's head. He thought of Bobby and his
little sister in Sunday-school, and that led him to think of the hymn
that did him so much good:
"Yield not to temptation,
For yielding is sin."
He sang that tune to himself for a while, and he found himself singing
other tunes, and finally one which began:
"There was an old codger, and he had a wooden leg,
And he never bought tobacco when tobacco he could beg."
Tobacco! There was a world of tobacco on those shelves. Smoking tobacco,
and churchwarden pipes. He strolled around behind the counter, and let
down the back of the show-case. There were the churchwarden pipes; he
selected one and took it out. It tasted cold and clammy when he put it
in his mouth, and he wondered what it would taste like with tobacco in
it. He brought the little ladder and got up on it, facing the shelves,
and to his surprise he found himself looking directly into the slanting
eyes of the porcelain Chinaman's head. He stood there gazing
thoughtfully into those eyes, and singing to himself the verse which was
always such a help to him:
"Yield not to temptation,
For yielding is sin,
Each vict'ry will help you
Some other to win."
It was growing a little darker now, and he could not examine the
Chinaman's head very well without bringing it closer. He took the head
in his hands, lifted it from the shelf, got down off the ladder, and sat
down on the floor with his back against the counter; and while he was
doing this he hummed to himself the next part of his tune:
"Fight manfully onward,
Dark passions subdue."
He put the head on his knees, and took off the Chinaman's little round
cap, which proved to be in fact a lid. He put his hand inside and drew
out a good fistful of absolutely black tobacco, fine and powdery like
coal-dust; he held it to his nose, and it smelt very sweet, in fact much
like brown sugar. He wondered if it would taste like brown sugar through
the pipe-stem; and humming quietly to himself, "Each vict'ry will help
you," he poured the tobacco into the bowl of the pipe. He was
disappointed, on sucking in through the pipe-stem, to find that there
was no brown-sugar taste at all. Of course, the only way to give tobacco
any taste was to light it; he reached up and got a match off the counter
behind him, and sitting down again struck the match on the floor. It
made a very pretty glow in the twilight, and he watched it as it burned
away in his fingers; it would be burnt out in another second, so,
humming to himself those ever-helpful words, "Yield not to temptation,"
he put the pipe in his mouth and touched the lighted match to the
tobacco.
It is painful to have to tell these things, but it can't be helped; for
the consequences were so strange, and so important to Freddie and his
friends, that----
Anyway, he lit the pipe and drew in a long breath through the stem. He
nearly choked to death. Smoke got into his nose and his eyes and his
throat, and he coughed and coughed; but he remembered the words, "Fight
manfully onward," and he determined that he would not give up so soon.
He stopped coughing and pulled again at the pipe; this time he did not
swallow the smoke, but blew it out of his mouth as he had seen it done a
thousand times. He gave another pull, and blew the smoke out again; it
did indeed taste like brown sugar; it was extremely pleasant; he puffed
again and again. He was astonished that he could have produced so much
smoke in a few whiffs; there was quite a cloud over his head. He gave
another puff, and when he blew out the smoke the white cloud above him
was so thick that he could not see through it. It began to settle down
on him. He put the Chinaman's head on the floor, and looked up into this
cloud.
It was growing thicker and thicker, and it was beginning to churn about
as if in a whirlwind; it turned all sorts of colours, mostly yellow and
green, and parts of it looked like barber's poles revolving at a
terrific speed. He became dizzy as he gazed at it; his head began to
swim; the cloud was coming down closer and closer upon him, and whirling
about more and more wildly; he crouched down lower, and became dizzier
and dizzier. The counter and the shelves began to go round and round, so
that he had to put his hand on the floor to steady himself; in another
moment the shop disappeared altogether, and there was nothing under him
but a little square of floor, and nothing over him but the wild,
churning cloud, now sparkling with jets of fire. He felt himself
falling, falling, and as he came to the bottom with a crash, he heard
the shop door open and close, and found himself sitting on the floor
with his back to the counter as before, with no smoke anywhere to be
seen; and he was aware that a hoarse voice was speaking on the other
side of the counter, and it was saying these words, very loud and brisk:
"Avast, there! Belay that piping! All snug, sir, hatches battened down,
makin' way under skysails and royals, hands piped to quarters, and
here's your humble servant ready for orders! Shiver my timbers, where's
the skipper? Piped me up with a 'baccy pipe, he did, and where's he
gone? Skipper ahoy! Come for orders, I be, and ever yours to command,
Lemuel Mizzen! That's me!"
Freddie put the pipe down on the floor, rose to his feet, and looked
over the counter.
Leaning on his elbow on the other side of the counter was a Sailorman,
with a wide blue collar open at the throat, a flat blue cap with a black
ribbon on the back of his head, and a green patch over his right eye.
CHAPTER VI
LEMUEL MIZZEN, A.B.
Freddie looked at the Sailorman, and the Sailorman straightened up and
touched his cap. His face was brown as weathered oak, and creased like
bark; his one eye was black and glittering; the hand which he raised to
his cap was of the shape and nearly the size of a ham; and the chest and
throat which emerged from his wide-open shirt-collar was as brown as his
face, and big with muscles. There was a delicious odour of tar about
him; you positively could not look at him without hearing wind whistling
through ropes. He hitched up his trousers with his other hand and said:
"Ay, ay, skipper! Here I be as big as life, all ready fer orders!"
As Freddie gazed at him, the Little Boy slowly collected his wits, and a
light began to dawn upon him.
"Have you been to China?" said he.
"Right-o!" cried the Sailorman. "To China I have been----" in a queer
sing-song, as if he might have been marching in time to it round a
capstan, hauling in an anchor: "To China I have been, and a many ports
I've seen, near and far; I can sail before the mast or behind it just as
fast, I'm a tar, I'm a tar, I'm a tar!"
Freddie continued to stare at him with increasing astonishment.
"Are you a sailor, sir?" said he.
"Wot, me? I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me, and I sail the deep blue
sea from Maine to Afrikee, and round again on an even keel to Cochin
China for cochineal, and back to Chili for Chili sauce, and home again
to Banbury Cross--that's me! Lemuel Mizzen, able seaman! Fed on hard
tack or soft tack, or a starboard tack or a port tack, it's all the same
to me! Now then, skipper, you piped me up, wot's the orders?"
"Please, sir," said Freddie, "would you mind telling me what it is you
would like to have?"
"_Me?_ Douse my binnacle light, wot I want is a chew o' terbacker; but
the question before the chart-house is, wot do _you_ want, skipper?"
"I don't want anything," said Freddie.
"Wot? You piped me up, didn't you? Piped me up with a pipe?"
"No, sir," said Freddie.
"Sorry to entertain a different opinion from the skipper! Didn't you
smoke the Chinaman's 'baccy, _in_ a pipe?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, hanging his head.
"Then you did pipe me up with a pipe, and I hope I knows better than to
come aft without bein' piped. Didn't you know I've got to come when you
smoke the pipe with the Chinaman's 'baccy in it?"
"No, sir," said Freddie.
The Able Seaman fixed his black eye on Freddie in amazement.
"Well, bust my locker if this ain't the--Beggin' your pardon, skipper,
and no offense meant! Called me off from the China Sea, and don't want
me after all! Didn't go fer to do it, not him! And me off in the China
Sea amongst the Boxers, a-v'yaging hither and thither to pick up a cargo
o' boxes to box compasses with! Ye've brought me a fair long journey fer
nothin', skipper!"
[Illustration: "I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me!"]
"I'm very sorry, sir," said Freddie, "I didn't know you had to come when
the Chinaman's tobacco was smoked. Are you the one that brought that
tobacco here?"
"Ay, ay! That's me! Lemuel Mizzen, A.B.! And a fine long trip from the
China Sea, to come to a lad in Amerikee when I hears in my ears the
skipper's call, and all fer nothin' at all, at all! Ain't you got
nothin' to offer in extenuation?"
Freddie did not know what "extenuation" meant, but he could see by the
Sailorman's face that that gentleman was a good deal put out. He
remembered that Mr. Mizzen wanted a chew of tobacco.
"Would a little tobacco make you feel better?" said he.
"Now you've got yer hand on the right rope!" said the Able Seaman, his
face brightening. "I don't smoke. I chew. If you're goin' to offer a bit
of a chew, why then, says I, I don't care if I do."
Freddie took a long plug of chewing tobacco from the shelf behind him.
He knew that Mr. Toby would not mind making a little gift to the
sailorman after his long journey. He put the plug under the cutter on
the counter, and was about to press down the handle, to cut off a
portion, when the Able Seaman hitched up his trousers and said:
"Belay there, skipper! Put the whole cargo aboard! This here craft needs
ballast; hoist her over the side!" And he reached out his hand for the
whole plug of tobacco and took it from Freddie, and gnawed off a corner
with his teeth.
"Ah!" said he, his right cheek bulging out. "Too much ballast to
starboard." And he gnawed off another corner, so that his left cheek
bulged out like his right.
"All snug!" said he. "I'll just pay fer my cargo before I set sail, with
a bit of a draft on the owners, in a manner of speakin'. Here y'are,
sir. Stow that bit o' paper in yer sea-chest, and it'll come in handy
one o' these days. Pay as you go, says I."
He placed in Freddie's hand a folded sheet of soiled paper. It was
greasy with handling, and was evidently very old; it was folded small
and tight, and was beginning to break with age at the creases. On the
outside, it was blank; but there might have been writing inside.
"Got it in the Caribbean off a runaway sailor, fer a set of false
whiskers and a tattoo needle. Will it do to pay fer the cargo with?"
"Yes, sir; thank you," said Freddie, holding the paper in his hand
without unfolding it.
"Then all I got to say is, before I weighs anchor,--take good keer o'
that there bit o' paper. Aloft and alow, don't ye never let go; round
the yard take a bight and hold on to it tight; let the harricane blow
till yer fingers is blue, but wotever you do, don't ye never let go. And
skipper, mind wot I'm a-tellin' you; if you ever needs Lemuel Mizzen,
A.B., fer to give him his orders, all you got to do is to smoke a couple
o' whiffs of the Chinaman's 'baccy, and Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., he'll be on
deck before the smoke's cleared away. That's clear?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, with eyes wide open.
"And now as I see there's no orders to give, I'm off to my tight little
bark called The Sieve, and when I'm aboard I'll close all the shutters,
and lock up the parrot that sneezes and stutters, and wake all the
skippers, and put on my slippers, and get into bed while the mates
overhead are swabbing the decks and heaving the lead and baling the
bilge-water up with their dippers; and when they have gotten the vessel
to going, and settled all down to their knitting and sewing, and the
twenty-third mate, who is always so late, has learned what is meant by a
third and last warning, I'll turn up the gas, take a look at the glass,
and read me the Life of Old Chew until morning!----And so, sir,"
continued Mr. Mizzen, walking towards the street door, "I must give you
a view of my little stern-light, and bid you, dear sir, a very good
night."
So saying, he turned squarely towards Freddie, with one hand on the
door-knob, and with the other hand touched his cap respectfully. Freddie
saw that his trousers were very wide at the ankles and very tight at the
hips, and that he rolled a little when he walked. Having touched his cap
respectfully, he opened the door and went out, and disappeared in the
darkness outside.
Freddie stood looking after him with his mouth wide open.
CHAPTER VII
THE HANDS OF THE CLOCK COME TOGETHER
It was some minutes before Freddie recovered from his astonishment.
Certainly this was a strange Sailorman. And he had come all the way from
the China Sea at a puff of the Chinaman's tobacco! Certainly magic
tobacco, that! But it was a pity that Mr. Mizzen had been called away
from the China Sea, all for nothing, while he was so busy gathering
boxes to box compasses with! No wonder he had felt put out about it. And
it must have been a queer sort of ship, with its shutters, and all those
skippers and mates--did they really like to knit and sew after they had
got the ship to going? It would be a wonderful thing to sail in a ship
like that; he wished he had thought to ask Mr. Mizzen more about it. He
must tell Aunt Amanda at once.
He ran to the back door and burst into the back room, crying out "Aunt
Amanda!"
Aunt Amanda was sound asleep in her chair, with her head back and her
mouth open; the gas was burning brightly overhead, and the clock was
ticking away distinctly on the mantel-piece.
"Aunt Amanda!" cried Freddie.
She awoke with a jump, blinked her eyes, and said:
"Hah! Where's the--what's the--who said--Where's Toby? What's the
matter?"
"It's me, Aunt Amanda," cried Freddie, breathlessly, "and the
Sailorman's just been here and gone, and I called him with the pipe, and
I can call him whenever I want him, and he gave me a piece of paper,
and he talks like a singing-book, and there's a parrot that stutters,
and they have to bale out the water with dippers because the ship's
named The Sieve, and we mustn't lose the paper because the runaway
sailor wore false whiskers, and he feeds on tacks instead of pins, and
we have to hold on tight to the paper, and one of the men on the ship is
always late, and we mustn't lose the paper, because----"
"Stop! Stop!" said Aunt Amanda. "What on earth is the child talking
about? What's all this about a Sailorman and a paper?"
"He's the one that brought the Chinaman's tobacco from China, and he
gave me a piece of paper, and here it is, and we mustn't lose it,
because----"
"One minute, Freddie! Now you just stand right there, perfectly still,
and tell me about it slowly. Now, then; what about this Sailorman? Slow,
slow."
It was a long time before Freddie made her understand exactly what had
happened, but at last she did understand, from beginning to end. She was
grieved and horrified that he had smoked the tobacco, but there was no
help for it now, and she was too much excited by his tale to scold him
very long.
"What's the paper he give you?" said she, when he had told her
everything.
Freddie put the paper in her hand, and she unfolded it carefully.
"Why," said she, "it's a map!"
"What kind of a map?" said Freddie.
"It's a map of an Island," said Aunt Amanda. "Where's Toby? I wish he
would come home. It looks like an Island, and there's writing here on
it. Looks like some sailorman might have drawn it, maybe; it's certainly
pretty old. I wish Toby would come."
"What's the writing on it, Aunt Amanda?" said Freddie.
"Well, here at the top it says, 'Correction Island,' and under that it
says, 'Spanish Main.' Bless me; that's where the pirates used to----"
"Pirates?" said Freddie, his eyes sparkling.
"Yes, pirates, of course. You've heard of the Spanish Main, haven't
you?"
"Yes'm. It's a long way off. You have to go there in a ship. Have you
ever been there?"
"Me? Me been to the Spanish Main? Mercy sakes, no, child! What would I
be doing on the Spanish Main? I ain't been outside of this town since I
was born."
"Wouldn't I like to go there! Pirates!" said Freddie. "Oh jiminy!"
"You mustn't use such dreadful language," said Aunt Amanda. "I wonder
where Toby is? Just look at that clock! Why, bless me, it's twenty-seven
minutes to seven."
Freddie looked, and saw that the hands of the clock were together, one
on top of the other. It was the hour for Mr. Punch's father to call Mr.
Punch from the church-tower.
"Toby's got to talkin' with that barber again, as sure as you live; when
they once begin, they never know when to leave off. I wish he'd----"
As she said this, the door opened, and in walked Mr. Toby himself.
"Sorry I'm so late," he cried, "but the barber got to talking
about--What, young feller, are you still here?" He turned and called
through the open door to someone behind him in the shop. "Come in! Make
you acquainted with my aunt and a young chap here--Don't be bashful,
come right in! Nobody's goin' to eat you!"
Mr. Toby held the door wide open, and made way for a little gentleman
who now advanced into the room. He was a hunchbacked man, of the same
height as Toby, and he was holding out in one hand a bunch of black
cigars; he was bareheaded and bald-headed; he had high cheek-bones and a
big chin and a hooked nose; he wore blue knee breeches and black
stockings and buckled shoes, and his coat was cut away in front over his
stomach and had two tails behind, down to his knees. His joints creaked
a little as he walked. He made a stiff bow to Aunt Amanda, and another
one to Freddie.
"Come in, Mr. Punch," said Toby, "you don't need to hold them cigars any
longer. Give 'em to me." And he took them from Mr. Punch and laid them
on the table. He then went to Mr. Punch and linked his arm in his, and
the two hunchbacks stepped forward together and stood before Aunt
Amanda.
"Allow me to present my friend Mr. Punch," said Toby. "Just as I was
coming in, I heard a voice sing out 'Punch!' from the church-tower, and
Mr. Punch stepped down from his perch, and I invited him to come in, and
here we are."
"Good hevening, marm," said Mr. Punch. His voice sounded harsh, as if
his throat were rusty. "Good hevening, young sir. Hit's wery pleasant
within-doors, wery pleasant indeed; Hi carn't s'y it's so blooming
agreeable hout there on my box, hall d'y and hall night; the gaslight is
wery welcome to me poor heyes, I assure you, marm. Hi trust I see you
well, marm."
"Mercy on us!" said Aunt Amanda, who had been speechless with
astonishment. "Freddie, it's Mr. Punch himself, bless me if it ain't!"
Freddie edged a little closer to Aunt Amanda, for he was afraid Mr.
Punch might snatch him up and carry him off to his father in the tower.
Mr. Punch noticed this.
"'Ave no fear, me good sir," said Mr. Punch, his wide mouth expanding
in a smile, almost to his ears. "Hi sharn't see me father this night,
hif me kind friends will permit me to enjoy their society for a brief
period, together with their charmin' gaslight, which it is wery dim hall
night in the street and quite hunsatisfactory, accordingly most pleased
to haccept me friend Toby's kind 'ospitality, Hi assure you. One grows
quite cramped in one's legs and one's harms when one 'as to remain in
one position on one's box hall night, unless one's father should tyke
hit into 'is 'ead to call one hup for a bit of a lark, and one can never
be sure of one's father's 'aving it in 'is 'ead to call one hup, to s'y
nothing of one's fingers coming stiffer and stiffer with one's parcel of
cigars 'eld out in one's 'and, and no 'at on one's 'ead, and no 'air on
one's 'ead to defend one against the hevening hair, with one's nose
dropping hicicles in winter, so that one never knows when one will lose
one's nose off of one's fyce----"
"Excuse me," said Aunt Amanda. It was evident that Mr. Punch was a
talkative person. "Are you an Englishman?"
"Ho lor' miss, indeed!" said Mr. Punch. "A Henglishman as ever was, Hi
assure you. But I 'opes I give myself no hairs."
Freddie gave up trying to understand the difference between air and
hair; it was plain enough that the bald-headed man had never given
himself any hair, so it couldn't be that. Anyway, this was an
Englishman, and Freddie was glad that he would now probably have a
chance to hear English spoken, which he had never heard before.
"Toby," said Aunt Amanda, "Freddie has seen the Sailorman from China,
and he has a map. I'll tell you about it."
Thereupon she related the story of Mr. Lemuel Mizzen, as she had got it
from Freddie. Mr. Toby and Mr. Punch were both tremendously impressed.
"It's too bad," said Mr. Toby, "this young feller here had to go and
smoke the Chinaman's tobacco after I told him not to; it's too bad,
that's what it is. What did you mean by it, sir?"
"Hit's a wery naughty haction indeed," said Mr. Punch. "Wery
reprehensible. Wery. Hi carn't s'y as I ever 'eard of a thing so
hextremely reprehensible. Now when Hi was a lad----"
"You don't say so!" said Mr. Toby. "Well, I don't see anything so very
bad about it. I'd a' done it myself if I'd been in his place. What do
you mean by saying that my Freddie's reprehensible? I won't have nobody
callin' him names, I won't, and what's more----"
"No offense, Toby! No offense!" cried Mr. Punch. "Sorry, Hi assure you.
Wery reprehensible of me to s'y such a thing. Wery. Pray be calm; be
calm."
"Well, then," grumbled Toby, "don't you go and say nothing about
Freddie, because--Anyway, let's have a look at the map."
At that moment there came a timid knock upon the door.
"Who next?" said Toby. "Come in!"
CHAPTER VIII
CELLULOID CUFFS AND A SILK HAT
The door opened, and there entered a poor-looking elderly man, bowing
and scraping as he came, and saluting the company with an old rusty
dented tall hat which he carried in his hand. The most striking thing
about him was that he had a wooden leg. His hair was grey and thin, and
his face was not very clean; there were signs of tobacco at the corners
of his mouth. His clothes were frayed and patched, and there was a good
deal of grease on his vest; he wore a celluloid collar without any
necktie, and round celluloid cuffs; his coat-sleeves were much too
short, and his cuffs hung out certainly three inches. Strange to say,
his collar and cuffs were spotlessly clean, and presented quite a
contrast to his very untidy face and clothes; but then, celluloid is
easy to clean; much less trouble than washing the face. As he stumped
into the room, he kept bowing humbly from one to another, and bobbing
his old hat up and down in his hand.
"Ahem!" he said, making another bow. "I was just going by, and I thought
I would drop in to--er--ahem!--I hope I am not in the way?"
"Oh, come in," said Toby, not very graciously. "As long as you are here,
you might as well stay. This is Mr. Punch, and this is Freddie."
The elderly man bowed to Freddie, and went up to Mr. Punch and shook him
cordially by the hand. He put his mouth quite close to Mr. Punch's ear,
and lowered his voice, and said:
"Ahem! I'm delighted to know you, sir. I trust you are well. I have seen
you often, but not to speak to. Ahem!" He lowered his voice again, and
spoke very confidentially into Mr. Punch's ear. "The fact is, sir, that
as I was going by, I suddenly found that I had left my tobacco pouch at
home; most unfortunate; and I came in with the hope that
perhaps--er--ahem! Very seldom forget my tobacco; very seldom indeed;
perfectly lost without it; do you--er, ahem!--do you happen to have such
a thing about you as a--er--ahem!--a small portion of--er--smoking
tobacco? I should be very much obliged!"
"Sorry," said Mr. Punch, stiffly, backing away. "Hi never use tobacco in
any way, shape or form."
The elderly man looked much disappointed, and sighed. He turned to Toby,
and bowed and smiled hopefully.
"Perhaps Mr. Littleback--" he began.
"Not on your life," said Toby. "You don't get no tobacco out of me, and
that's flat."
The elderly man sighed again, and looked steadily at Freddie; but he
evidently thought there was no hope in that quarter, and he said
nothing.
Freddie now realized who the elderly gentleman was. He had a wooden leg,
and he never bought tobacco when tobacco he could beg--It was the Old
Codger whom Mr. Toby had now and then sung a song about; one of his two
friends, the one who was always begging tobacco, and never had any of
his own. Freddie looked at him, and felt rather sorry for him.
"Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Very sorry to intrude,
Miss Amanda. I hope I'm not in the way. It's very mild weather we're
having."
"Now, then," said Toby, briskly, "let's look at this map."
As he said this, another knock was heard at the door; a firm and
confident knock this time.
"Confound it!" said Toby. "Who next? Come in!"
The door opened, and another elderly man stepped in; a tall slim man,
with very white hair and a long narrow face; he carried a tall shiny
black silk hat in his hand; he wore a black suit, all of broadcloth, and
his coat hung to his knees and was buttoned to the top; his cuffs and
collar and shirt were of beautiful white linen with a gloss, and his tie
was a little white linen bow. He came forward with an air of warm
benevolence.
"My dear, _dear_ friends!" he said, and stretched out both hands towards
the company, as if to clasp them all to his heart. "What a beautiful,
beautiful scene! So homelike, so cosy, so sociable, so--so--What can be
so beautiful as the gathering together of friends about the family
hearth! _So_ beautiful!" There was a Latrobe stove in the room, but no
hearth; however, that made no difference; he went, with his hands
outstretched, to Aunt Amanda, and pressed one of hers in both of his.
The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg immediately sidled up to him, and
while he was still pressing Aunt Amanda's hand, said, in a confidential
tone:
"Ahem! I'm delighted to see you again. I trust you are well. The fact
is, I find that I have--er--left my tobacco pouch at home,--most
unfortunate; very seldom forget it; completely lost without it; I was
wondering--er--ahem!--if you happened to have such a thing about you as
a--"
"No!" said the other old man, changing at once from beaming benevolence
to stern severity. "I'll be hanged if I do!" And he released Aunt
Amanda's hand, and turned his back on the Old Codger with the Wooden
Leg.
"Now," said Toby, "let's look at the map. This here is Mr. Punch, and
this is Freddie."
The newcomer took Mr. Punch's hand in both of his and squeezed it
softly; he then took Freddie's hand in both of his and pressed it
tenderly. Freddie knew him. He was the "other Old Codger, as sly as a
fox, who always had tobacco in his old tobacco-box." Freddie could
hardly believe that that white-haired old gentleman could be as sly as a
fox.
"My dear, _dear_ friends!" said the Sly Old Fox. "What is so beautiful
as the love of friends?" He stopped to glare at the Old Codger with the
Wooden Leg, who looked away nervously. "The love of friends! Gathered
together around the family hearth! How beautiful! It touches me, my
friends, it touches me----"
"That's all right about that," said Toby. "For heaven's _sake_, let's
look at the map!"
Aunt Amanda spread out the map on the table beside her, and the others
gathered round.
"It's an island!" cried Toby.
"On the Spanish Main," said Aunt Amanda.
"The Spanish Main!" said the Sly Old Fox. "A beautiful country! Full of
palms,--and grape-nuts,--What you might call a real work of nature! Full
of parrots, and monkeys, and lagoons, and other wild creatures; a work
of nature, my dear friends, a real work of nature."
"And pirates," said Freddie, earnestly.
"I _said_ parrots," said the Sly Old Fox.
"_I_ said pirates," said Freddie.
"Just what I said," said the Sly Old Fox. "That live in trees, my
little friend, in trees; and have red and blue feathers, and----"
"Pirates don't have feathers," said Freddie.
"Dear, dear!" said the Sly Old Fox. "How _can_ you say such a thing? How
_can_ you----?"
"Did you ever see a pirate in a tree?"
"In cages, my dear little friend! Hundreds of them!"
"That's enough!" said Mr. Toby. "Quit wrangling for a minute, will you?
What about this here map? I tell you what, though. I'd like the
Churchwarden to see this map. Freddie, will you run down the street and
get the Churchwarden?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, moving towards the door.
"And tell him to bring along his Odour of Sanctity with him. He always
carries a bottle of it in his pocket, and we may need it. Don't forget
it."
"No, sir," said Freddie.
"Hold on a minute," said Mr. Toby, snatching up his hat. "I'll go for
him myself. I can do it quicker." And in a moment he was out of the
door.
CHAPTER IX
THE ODOUR OF SANCTITY
While Toby was gone, Aunt Amanda explained to the two old men about the
Sailorman from China, and about his gift of the map which was lying on
the table. They were just at the end of their discussion when Toby
returned, bringing with him the Churchwarden, puffing and blowing with
the unusual exertion of walking, and without his pipe. Toby introduced
him to Mr. Punch and the two old Codgers, and drew him up to the table
and showed him the map, explaining at the same time how it came there.
The Churchwarden examined the map carefully, while the others all looked
at him. He finally put down the map, settled himself in a chair, folded
his hands across his fat stomach, blew out his cheeks, and said:
"My opinion is, that what we ought to do is to--I've considered the
matter carefully, from all sides, and I think we ought to--Of course you
may not agree with me, but I think the best thing to do would be
to--Unless, of course, some of you may think of something better, but if
you don't, then I can't say as there's anything better to do than
to----"
At this moment there came a sound from the street outside which made
everyone but Aunt Amanda jump to his feet. It was the sound of running
feet, mixed with strange cries, not very loud, but somehow
blood-curdling. It was evident that someone was in trouble. Freddie and
the five men rushed from the room and through the shop and into the
street.
The street was very dark, except for a gas-lamp at the opposite corner.
A white figure was running down the pavement towards the shop-door, with
frantic speed; and behind him, evidently chasing him, came a crowd of
little dark creatures, hard to make out in the dim light. It was these
creatures who were making the little blood-curdling cries. In a moment
they had come so near that the party about the shop-door could see what
they were. In front, running desperately with leaps and bounds, and
panting for breath, came a tall slim man all in tight-fitting white
clothes, with a dead white face and a white hairless head; and after
him, tumbling on pell-mell, was a perfect riot of little red imps, with
little horns on their foreheads, and little tails behind them, all
trying to spear the white man with the wicked little pitchforks which
they carried, and to seize him with their claws. Freddie thought they
were precisely like the imps he had seen at Hanlon's Superba. When the
white man reached the shop-door they had nearly caught him. He paused at
that moment, looked wildly about him, saw the open door of the shop, and
dashed in and banged the door to behind him. The imps came tumbling up
and hesitated an instant before the men at the door; and in that instant
the Churchwarden showed the most unexpected presence of mind. He quickly
reached behind him and drew a small bottle out of his pocket and pulled
out the cork and sprinkled a few drops of its contents on the ground
before him. A sharp penetrating odour immediately filled the air; it was
so intense that it made the tears come into Freddie's eyes; but what it
did to the wild mob of imps was almost beyond belief. As they got their
first whiff of it, they tumbled back over one another in a mad effort
to get away; but they could not get away from the odour quick enough; it
caught them and held them, so that in a moment they could not move; they
stood fixed and fast and silent; in another moment they began to melt
away, and in two minutes they had vanished; actually vanished where they
stood, each and every one, before the very eyes of the astonished party
before the door.
"Blimy hif I ever see the like!" said Mr. Punch.
"Never knew my Odour of Sanctity to fail once," said the Churchwarden,
coolly. "Hardly ever go out without it. There ain't a witch or an imp or
a bad spirit of any kind whatever can stand up against my Odour of
Sanctity, if he once gets a couple of good whiffs of it out of this
little bottle. Just a few drops from the bottle, and a few sniffs, and
whoof! they're done for! No, sir! there ain't no perfumery in the world
like Odour of Sanctity!"
On the floor of the shop they found the poor white man lying completely
exhausted. They asked him to explain, but he could not speak. Mr. Toby
and Mr. Punch, one on each side, supported him into the back room, and
sat him down in a chair before Aunt Amanda. She held up her hands in
astonishment. The man was certainly a strange-looking man. They plied
him with questions, but he touched his tongue with his finger and shook
his head. He could not speak; he was dumb. Freddie, after one long look
at him under the gaslight, knew who he was.
"It's Mr. Hanlon!" he cried, in great excitement. "It's Mr. Hanlon!"
The dumb man looked at Freddie and smiled, and nodded his head. He rose
to his feet, shook Freddie's hand, and made a graceful bow to the whole
company.
"It's Mr. Hanlon sure enough," said Toby, "still being chased by the
imps. Pretty near got him that time, too! But he got away safe and
sound after all, didn't he, eh?" And all the party, including Mr. Hanlon
himself, laughed with delight. And when the Churchwarden pulled out his
little perfume bottle and showed it around, and explained to Mr. Hanlon
what it had done, the poor man was so overcome that he put his head down
on the Churchwarden's shoulder and wept.
"This'll never do!" cried Toby. "Ain't we never, _never_, going to get
down to this here map? I never _see_ such a time as I've had, trying to
examine this here map! One thing right after another! Mr. Hanlon, I'll
tell you what it's about, and then you can see it for yourself. Would
you like to stay here with our little party? It's a good deal safer than
out-of-doors."
Mr. Hanlon nodded eagerly and smiled, and Toby explained everything to
him and showed him the map.
"Now," said Toby, when that was done, "speak up, Warden, and finish what
you was a-saying!"
CHAPTER X
CAPTAIN HIGGINSON AND THE SPANISH MAIN
The Churchwarden, having put back into his pocket the bottle of Odour of
Sanctity, folded his hands across his fat stomach and began again:
"As I was saying----"
"Never mind that," said Toby. "Tell us what we had better do."
"Well, as I was saying," went on the Churchwarden, paying no attention
to Toby, "the best idea that occurs to me, after thinking it over
considerable, is that--But I ain't saying there's none better, and I
don't lay claim to being any wiser than--Anyway, it seems to me we ought
to----"
"Just listen to this!" broke in Aunt Amanda. She had been studying the
map all this time, and she was holding it in her hands. She was much
excited. "I've just made out all this handwriting at the bottom of the
map, and I'll read it to you. Do you want to hear it?" Her voice shook
and her hands trembled. Everybody except the Churchwarden begged her to
go on. "Oh! do you think it could be true? If it only could! Oh, if it
_could_ only be true!"
"Maybe if you'd read it, Aunt Amanda----" said Toby.
"Yes, yes, I will," said she, all of a twitter. "I'll read it. Don't
hurry me. This is what it says. If it could only be true! 'Correction
Island: By dead Reckoning, latitude 12 deg. 32' 14" N., longitude 61 deg. 45'
13" W.,' whatever that means. But I'll read it to you just as it's
written. It's a queer kind of language--Anyway, this is what it says:
"'Lately discovered by me, Reuben Higginson, Master Mariner, Brig Cotton
Mather: New Bedford.
"'Notify Elizabeth Higginson, Spinster: or Else the acknowledged Elder
of the Society of Friends: New Bedford.
"'Now off course in heavy gale on return Voyage to fetch my Sister
aforesaid to Correction Island with as Many others as are Minded to
come.
"'Leaking badly below line: pumps Given over: Water mounting in hold:
decks Awash: Both masts gone By the board: whale-oil, no use: Down with
all hands in another Hour.
"'This Map shall be cast Overboard in a stout Bottel as we go down, with
a Paper of directions how to Gain correction in the Island.'"
"Where's the paper of directions?" said Toby.
"It ain't here," said Aunt Amanda. "I suppose Captain Higginson lost it,
or else he didn't have time to put it in the bottle. Anyway, this is
what the writing on the map says:
"'Let him that Finds the Bottel remember these Mariners: Also, let him
take heed to Search out the Island diligently.
"'For this Island'--Listen to what it says now," said Aunt Amanda,
trembling with excitement. "Oh, do you suppose it could really be true?
And yet this Reuben Higginson was a good Quaker captain, I'm sure, and I
don't believe he would say what wasn't true, and especially when he was
on his way home to get his own sister----"
"Why don't you read it, instead of talking about it?" said Toby.
"I would, if you'd let me," said Aunt Amanda. "Here's what it says:
"'For this Island is Refuge to such as be afflicted: And in this Island
shall be Corrected'--oh! listen to this! I wouldn't believe it from
anybody but Reuben Higginson--'shall be Corrected whatever Errors,
Disappointments, Miscarriages, Faylures, Preventions, and the like, this
mortal Life may have afflicted Any withal: Wherefore I have called it
Correction Island.
"'There be Perils enough in coming at Compleat Correction: But let
Courage halt not By the way, so shall he Arrive presently.
"'If any be Crooked'--this is the part! it's too wonderful! but Captain
Higginson wouldn't have said it, when he was so near going down with his
ship, and especially on his way home to get his own sister----"
"Me dear lydy," said Mr. Punch, "_hif_ you would be so wery kind as
to----"
"Yes, yes; give me time. I declare you make me so nervous--Now just
listen to this, every one of you, and don't speak:
"'If any be Crooked, he shall there be made Straight.'"
She paused, and looked hard at Toby. Mr. Punch started at the same time,
and he and Toby looked hard at each other.
"'If any be Blind, he shall see: If any Dumb, he shall speak.'"
At the word "dumb," Mr. Hanlon, whose elbow was resting on the table,
jumped so violently that he knocked the Album onto the floor. Aunt
Amanda nodded her head to him, and all the others stared at him.
"'If any be Old, he shall be Young again: If any Fat, he shall be as
Lean as he will.'"
At the word "fat", the Churchwarden gave a questioning grunt, and
settled down deeper in his chair.
"'If any be Poor, whether in Purse or in Mind, he shall seek Alms no
longer.'"
The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, who had been resting his wooden leg
on the chair opposite, dropped it to the floor and sat up very straight.
Toby, who was standing beside him, clapped him heartily on the shoulder.
"'If any be Mean, or Cunning, or Despiteful, he shall be given a new
heart.'"
Aunt Amanda looked directly at the Sly Old Codger, who was sitting
smiling, with his tall silk hat on his knees; and everyone else in the
room, except Mr. Hanlon, looked very intently at him. He noticed it, and
glanced around inquiringly, smiling more benevolently than ever.
"How beautiful that would be," he said. "How beautiful! If some of my
dear, dear friends could only have a new heart,--how beautiful!"
"Don't interrupt," said Aunt Amanda. "Freddie, listen to this:
"'If any be Little in stature, against his desire, he shall be Great.'"
Freddie opened his eyes very wide. Would it be possible to be big at
once, without waiting all that long dreary time? How glorious that would
be!
"But this," said Aunt Amanda, "this is the last and the best. I don't
know--whether I can--read it right--" her voice broke, and she blew her
nose and cleared her throat--"but I will try. Oh! do you suppose it
_could_ be true? Would a good Quaker captain, with a sister in New
Bedford, say it if it wasn't true? With the sea raging and both masts
gone, and the ship filling up with water, and----"
"Aunt Amanda," said Toby, "if you don't read the rest of it this
minute----"
"Ah, yes, Toby, I will," said Aunt Amanda. "It must be true, or a good
man like that wouldn't have said it. This is the last part, and the
best:
"'If any be Prevented unjustly of Beauty or of Children or of Love or of
Other like desires, there shall be found for him of these a great Store:
So that there shall be an End of repining, and none in that Place shall
say, Thus and thus might I have been also, had I been but justly
entreated.
"'And so I commit my Body to the sea, and my soul to----'"
"Go on! go on!" cried the company--excepting, of course, Mr. Hanlon.
Aunt Amanda blew her nose again, and laid down the map on the table.
"That's all," she said. "I suppose he didn't have time to finish it."
CHAPTER XI
A MIXED COMPANY IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURE
After Aunt Amanda had stopped reading, it was a moment or two before
anyone spoke. "If all those things," said Mr. Toby thoughtfully, "could
be done in that Island, I'd be in favor of going there."
There was a general murmur of assent, and Mr. Hanlon nodded his head.
"Well," went on Mr. Toby, "we'd better make up our minds what we want to
do about it. The Churchwarden ain't had his say yet, what with all these
interruptions, and I move we give him a chance to have his say, right
now. Speak up, Warden; what do you think we ought to do?"
"As I was saying," said the Churchwarden, looking around solemnly,
"while I don't hold to my own opinion if anybody else can think up
something better, still it seems to me--But maybe you'd ruther hear from
the others first."
"No, no!" cried the whole company,--except Mr. Hanlon, who shook his
head vigorously.
"Well, then, being as you've asked me so particular, and having thought
about it considerable,--as I was saying, it appears to me that the best
thing to do would be to--This is only the way it looks to me, you
understand, and I ain't speaking for nobody but myself, and I don't
pretend that my opinion is worth----"
"By crackey!" cried Mr. Toby, very rudely. "Ain't you the most maddening
old feller that ever was in the world? Come on, now, tell us what to
do, and be quick about it!"
"Call up the Able Seaman!"
This was so unexpected that nobody spoke for a moment.
"Hurrah!" cried Toby. "Now you've said it. We'll call up Mr. Lemuel
Mizzen--is that his name? That's the thing to do! Do you all agree to
that?" Everybody approved, and Mr. Toby turned to Freddie. "He's your
man, Freddie, and if you've done it once, I reckon it won't be any harm
for you to do it again. Wait a minute." And he ran into the shop, and
immediately returned with the Chinaman's head and a churchwarden pipe.
"Now, then, Freddie," he said. "Will you do it again?"
"No, sir," said Freddie. "I'd rather not."
"You shouldn't make him do it," said Aunt Amanda.
"Nonsense, Aunt Amanda!" cried Toby. "He's as bad now as he'll ever be,
and it ain't a-going to do him no harm. I'll fill the pipe."
"Hit's quite a lark," said Mr. Punch, laughing heartily. "Fancy the
little beggar's smoking a pipe!"
"My dear little friend," began the Sly Old Fox, beaming upon Freddie.
"You must always remember that your elders know best----"
"Here, Freddie," said Mr. Toby, having filled the pipe, "sit down here."
And he pushed Freddie gently down upon his accustomed hassock at Aunt
Amanda's feet.
Freddie shook his head, but Mr. Toby put the pipe into his mouth and lit
a match. All the others sat in silence, watching Freddie intently.
"Now, then!" said Toby. "Pull away!" And he touched the lighted match to
the pipeful of black tobacco.
Freddie gave a pull, and blew out a cloud of smoke. He did not choke
this time. He gave another pull, and blew out another cloud. The white
smoke lay above the heads of the company in a thick mass; it grew
thicker, so that he could not see through it; it began to move, as if in
a high wind. He drew on the pipe once more, and blew out another cloud
of smoke. He knew what was coming, and in fact the same thing happened
that had happened to him before. The white cloud churned about, with its
barber-poles and jets of fire, coming down closer and closer upon him,
and in a jiffy he was sitting in midair on his hassock, and then he felt
himself falling, falling; and as he struck the bottom with a jar, he
heard, very distinctly, a knock on the door; and he was sitting again on
his hassock at Aunt Amanda's feet in the quiet room, with no sign of a
cloud anywhere to be seen.
"Come in!" he heard Mr. Toby cry.
The door opened, and in walked Mr. Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., as cool as a
cucumber.
He took off his flat blue cap with the black ribbon, and made a bow to
the company.
"Piped me aft again, and good evening to you all!" said he, in his
hoarse voice. "Lemuel Mizzen, A.B.! That's me! What'll it be? All ready
for orders, skipper! It was just half past by the starboard watch, and
the skippers their apples were quietly peeling, when I locked up the
last of the lemons and Scotch, and lay on my bed looking up at the
ceiling, to snatch forty winks, as I foolishly reckoned; but just as I
thinks, 'Thirty-first, thirty-second,' there's a ring at the bell of the
big front-door, and the mates come and yell that I'm wanted ashore; so I
tucks in my cap the eight points of my nap, and just before stopping to
turn down the lights, I runs to the dresser and puts it to rights, and
then before giving a last look behind, I goes to the bed and takes off
the spread, and lays out to air the three sheets in the wind! And here I
be," concluded the Able Seaman, "all ready for orders." And he looked
very hard at Freddie.
"Well!" said Aunt Amanda, gasping. "I never in my life heard such a----"
"I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Mizzen," said Toby. "It's about
Correction Island, on the Spanish Main."
"Ay, ay, sir!" said Mr. Mizzen. "Would you like to go there?"
"Ah!" said everyone at once, except Mr. Hanlon, who nodded his head.
"No trouble at all," said Mr. Mizzen. "Just step into The Sieve, and
we'll be off. A sweet little bark is The Sieve, provided there's plenty
of dippers; but we always go well provided. Is the whole party going?"
"One moment, if you please," said the Sly Old Codger. "There is one
little point on which I--that is to say--Will there be any expense?"
"Not a penny," said Mr. Mizzen. "Everything's found. Orders from the
skipper. What he says goes."
"Ah!" said the Sly Old Fox. "The Spanish Main! With all the little
parrots and monkeys flitting about in the branches of the upas trees!--I
think I will join."
"I reckon we're all going," said Mr. Toby. "Is everybody agreed? All
right. It's settled. And my vote is, to go right now, while we've got
hold of our Able Seaman here."
"Shouldn't I tell mother first?" asked Freddie.
"I'll write her a note in the morning," said Toby. "I'll fix it; you
leave it to me."
"I suppose I really ought to finish this sewing," said Aunt Amanda.
"No time," said Toby, who seemed to be managing everything. "Where's the
ship, Mr. Mizzen?"
"Made fast to the wharf at the foot of this street," said Mr. Mizzen.
"Then let's go," said Toby.
He ran out of the room, and returned with his white derby hat on his
head, and his hand-painted necktie neatly in its place. He helped Aunt
Amanda to get up, and brought her her little black bonnet, which she put
on and tied under her chin, and her cashmere shawl, which she put around
her shoulders.
"All right!" cried Toby. "We're off! Come along!"
"We're off to the Spanish Main," said Mr. Mizzen, in his curious
sing-song, "to the wet Antipodee; but dry or wet we need not fret, for
we are bold as bold can be; and on the way at Botany Bay we'll probably
stay a week or two, to gather ferns as the Botanists do, and then we'll
stop at the door of Spain, to ask the way to the Spanish Main, and so
without any more delay, on the Spanish Main we'll all alight, where the
star-fish shines in the sea all night, and the dog-star barks in the sky
all day--Here, skipper, put this in your pocket, and hold fast to it."
He handed Freddie the map, and Freddie put it away safely in his pocket.
"Have you got the Odour of Sanctity?" said Mr. Toby to the Churchwarden.
"Right here," said the fat man, tapping his back pocket.
"I'll carry the Chinaman's tobacco," said Toby. "We may need it." And he
tucked the Chinaman's head under his arm.
In a few moments the whole party were standing on the pavement outside,
and Toby locked the shop-door behind them. They crossed the street, and
as they did so they heard a faint voice halloing from the top of the
church tower, and they could make out that it said, "Punch! Punch!" But
Mr. Punch only sniffed and shrugged his shoulders, and made no answer.
It was very dark. The gas-lamps at the corners only made the darkness
gloomier. The only sound they heard, after Mr. Punch's father's voice
had died away behind them, was the stump-stump of the Old Codger's
wooden leg on the brick pavement. All the dwelling-houses were closed,
and as they came nearer to the wharves all the warehouses were dark and
awful. Not a soul was to be seen, except that once they saw the back of
a policeman as he disappeared around a dark corner in advance. At the
sight of this policeman's back, and in the shadow of a great gloomy
building alongside an alley, Freddie slipped his hand into the Able
Seaman's big paw. He wondered if he were doing quite right in leaving
home without saying a word to his mother, but Mr. Toby had promised to
do whatever was necessary, and anyway, he was going aboard a ship! If he
should stop to speak to his mother about going away on a voyage in a
ship, he felt somehow that he might never go. He could already smell the
delicious odour of tarred ropes.
Their progress was very slow, on account of Aunt Amanda's lameness.
First came Mr. Mizzen, leading the way with Freddie by his side. Next
came Aunt Amanda, limping with her cane, and supported on one side by
Mr. Toby and on the other by Mr. Punch. Behind them walked the
Churchwarden and the Sly Old Fox, and last of all Mr. Hanlon and the Old
Codger with the Wooden Leg.
They could see not far before them the ghost-like masts and shrouds of
ships, looking as if they were growing up from the street among the
buildings; and in another moment they found themselves standing in a
group on a wide wharf, piled up with bales and boxes, and before them,
against the edge of the wharf, where the black water was lapping the
piles, stood a tall ship with most of her sails set. Freddie thrilled in
every vein of his body. At that moment he did not think of his father or
mother; he thought of nothing but the smell of brackish water and tarred
ropes, and the deck of a ship on the open sea under a cloud of canvas,
and the far-away Spanish Main.
The Able Seaman led the company of adventurers forward between the bales
and boxes, until they stood beside the dark hull of the ship. He turned
round and faced them and touched his cap respectfully.
"Come aboard," said he.
CHAPTER XII
THE VOYAGE OF THE SIEVE
When Freddie awoke the next morning, he leaned up on his elbow, rubbing
his eyes, and was surprised to see the floor of the little room in which
he found himself settling slowly down at one side. In a moment the floor
rose again on that side, and the other side settled down. Then the whole
room tilted sideways and back again. It made him dizzy, and he closed
his eyes, wondering what kind of a house he had gotten into. He decided
he would get up and find out about it.
He carefully rose, and tried to walk across the floor to the window. As
he stepped out, the floor seemed to go down under him, and he quickly
grasped the bed; he put out his foot again, and the floor rose up; he
was dizzier than before, and he had a queer sinking feeling in his
stomach. As the floor tilted down sideways again, he made a dash to the
opposite wall, and held on there by the window; but the floor sank
again, and he made another dash, back to bed. He was cold and hot, and
his head ached, and there was a feeling in his stomach as if--oh dear!
He decided he would lie in bed for a few moments until he felt better.
He remained there for two days.
What occurred during those two days he could not remember very well
afterwards. He slept a great deal, and it seemed that some one with a
green patch over his eye came in now and then; but he paid very little
attention. All he wanted was to go to sleep and stay asleep.
On the morning after his third night he sat up wide awake. He was
hungry. He jumped up and dressed in a hurry. As the floor tilted and
sank and rose with him he thought he had never felt so delicious a
sensation. He wondered if there would be bacon and eggs for breakfast.
In a moment he had thrown open the door and he was running up a short
flight of steps. He was weak and tottery, but he paid no attention to
that. He was at the top of the steps, and he drew in a deep breath of
the cool morning air.
He was standing on the deck of a great ship. Over his head clouds and
clouds of beautiful white canvas swelled out to the breeze. The sun was
sparkling merrily on the water, and there was no land to be seen
anywhere. Up forward, the bow of the ship was dipping and rising
regularly. There were three tall masts, and on the first two the sails
were set square to the masts, and on the third lengthwise; every sail
seemed to be up. It was glorious.
He walked forward up the deck. Here and there were men in blue overalls,
cleaning the deck, coiling ropes, and polishing metal; and in a little
house with windows a man was standing beside an upright wheel. Near the
first mast, in a group, were Aunt Amanda, Mr. Toby, the Churchwarden,
and the two old Codgers. Freddie hailed them with a shout.
"All right, young feller," cried Mr. Toby, as Freddie came up, "here we
are! How is this for a corking spree? Beats all the Tolchester
excursions you ever see, that's what I say! Blamed if it don't. I ain't
been out of bed for two days."
"No more has any of us," said Aunt Amanda. "Do you feel well, Freddie?
I declare I'm quite excited. Isn't the air invigorating?"
"Yes'm," said Freddie. "What did you say in your note, Mr. Toby?"
"What note?" said Toby.
"Why, your note to my mother, explaining about me and----"
"By crackey!" cried Toby. "Blamed if I didn't clean forget all about it!
Now ain't that too bad! What on earth are we going to do about it?"
"Well!" said Aunt Amanda. "Now ain't that just like you, Toby
Littleback? I declare if your head wasn't fastened on you'd----"
"Wery reprehensible," said Mr. Punch. "Wery."
"My dear friends," said the Sly Old Codger, "let us not be disquieted on
such a morning as this. Everything is so beautiful. _So_ beautiful! And
without any expense whatever. It is a precious thought. How pleasant it
is to hear the breeze blowing so gently among all the little capstans up
there!"
He took off his high silk hat and looked up among the sails with a rapt
expression on his face, and all the others looked up too, trying to see
the capstans fluttering in the breeze.
"Look!" cried Aunt Amanda. "Why, there's Mr. Hanlon!"
Far, far up, near the top of the second mast, was a white figure,
standing on a rope under the topmost sail, and holding on with one hand
and waving the other down at the passengers. Mr. Toby waved his white
derby, and Mr. Hanlon began to come down. Freddie trembled with alarm,
but Mr. Hanlon was obviously having the time of his life. He skipped
swiftly along his dangerous perch, and sliding down and along the spars
of wood that held the sails, and actually leaping from one to another,
and tripping lightly down ladders of rope, while the whole top swayed
dizzily from side to side, he at length came down on the deck with a
bounce, and bowing to everybody shook Freddie by the hand.
"Here comes the Able Seaman!" cried Toby. "And see what he's got on his
wrist!"
Mr. Lemuel Mizzen came rolling down the deck, and as he approached he
took off his cap with his left hand and made a bow. On his right wrist
was a blue and red parrot, who cocked his head sideways at the
strangers, and then looked up inquiringly at the Able Seaman.
"Good morning, all!" said Mr. Mizzen. "Glad to see the passengers come
to life again! Nothing like the open sea, lady and gentlemen!"
"Are you sure it's perfectly safe?" said Aunt Amanda.
"Perfectly safe, ma'am. A tight little bark is The Sieve, provided the
dippers hold out. Most of the men is below now, baling out the water
with their dippers, and the ship ain't leaking more than ordinary--yet.
Of course you never can tell what may happen, but there's plenty of
dippers, unless we should founder in a storm, or split up on the rocks,
or----"
"Mercy on us!" cried Aunt Amanda. "I wish we hadn't come. If I only had
some sewing with me."
"Would you mend socks, ma'am?"
"Oh, that would be lovely! And I could look after the men's shirts, too,
and count the laundry when it comes home, and--I'm sure we are going to
have a delightful voyage! I feel better already. I don't believe there's
any danger after all. It's all nonsense about the ship's leaking."
"Who's your f-f-f-friends, L-l-lem?" shrieked a voice from Mr. Mizzen's
wrist.
Everyone started, and looked in amazement at the parrot, whose head was
perked sideways up at Mr. Mizzen's face.
"L-l-lem!" shrieked the parrot, stuttering terribly. "Who's your
f-f-f-friends?"
"Never you mind," said Lemuel, "you'll find out soon enough. Breakfast's
ready. Anybody want breakfast?"
Before anyone had a chance to reply, the parrot opened his mouth wide
and gave a loud laugh, and cried out:
"Th-th-three ch-cheers! Th-th-there's ch-ch-chops, s-s-steak, b-b-bacon
and eggs! I'll have l-l-l-liver and onions! Ha! ha! ha! Th-th-three
ch-cheers for l-l-l-liver and onions!"
"Be quiet, Marmaduke," said the Able Seaman. "I'll lock you up again, if
you ain't careful."
"K-k-k-ker-_choo_!" said Marmaduke, giving a loud sneeze; and rubbed his
beak with his foot and fluttered his feathers. "L-l-l-lock me up in the
a-a-after hold, till I g-g-g-get all over this d-d-d-dreadful cold!
Th-th-three ch-cheers for hay f-f-f-fever! K-k-k-ker-_choo_!"
"I'll lock you up in the after hold, if you don't quit being so fresh
and bold; I'll learn you manners before I'm through, and if ever I hear
one little--"
"Ker-_choo_!" said Marmaduke, finishing Mr. Mizzen's sentence for him
very neatly.
Everyone laughed, except the Able Seaman.
"All right," said he, "just wait till I've had my chow, I'll attend to
you proper; now off with you--now!" And he tossed Master Marmaduke off
his wrist up into the air. The parrot lit on a spar overhead, just under
a sail, and peered down at the company without the least appearance of
embarrassment.
"If there's b-b-b-bacon and eggs," he cried, "I'll take l-l-l-liver!
Th-th-three ch-ch-cheers for l-l-l-liver!"
[Illustration: "L-l-lem!" shrieked the parrot. "Who's your
f-f-f-friends?"]
Freddie burst into a merry laugh, and all his friends joined; all except
Mr. Punch, who looked puzzled.
"'Ow could 'e 'ave liver," said he, "hif there was only bycon an'
heggs?"
At this everyone laughed louder than before, and Mr. Punch was
completely perplexed.
"I'll explain that to you some day," said Toby. "Didn't you never hear a
joke?"
"Ho, yes," said Mr. Punch. "Hi 'eard a wery good joke once; a wery good
one indeed. Hi'll relate it to you. When I was a lad--"
"There's the breakfast bell," said Mr. Mizzen. "Sorry to interrupt, but
we mustn't let it get cold. We'll hold the election afterwards."
No one waited to hear Mr. Punch's joke. The Able Seaman led the way, and
all the others followed him down the deck, towards a kind of three-sided
box which opened on a stairway below.
In a moment or two they found themselves in the dining-saloon, and in
another moment they were seated about a round table, set for breakfast.
The passengers insisted on the Able Seaman's sitting down with them, and
he consented to do so.
A lad of about eighteen entered, to wait on the table. He had a shock of
bright red hair, and a kind of frightened look in his eyes, as if he
were afraid he would do everything wrong, and would always be in hot
water about it. He stood behind the Able Seaman's chair, and began to
make a queer contortion of the face, in an effort to speak.
"Th-th-th-there's--" he began.
"Skipper first," interrupted Mr. Mizzen, nodding towards Freddie.
The Cabin-boy (for that was what he was) went to Freddie's chair, and
began to speak again, with the same contortion of the face.
"Th-th-th-there's ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-steak, b-b-b-bacon and eggs," he
said.
"Yes, sir," said Freddie.
The Cabin-boy stared in bewilderment, and began again.
"Th-th-th-there's ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-steak, b-b-b-bacon and eggs," said
he.
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, much embarrassed.
"I don't blame you, skipper," said the Able Seaman. "I would too, if I
hadn't eaten for two days. Next!"
The Cabin-boy stood behind Aunt Amanda's chair, and began:
"Th-th-th-there's ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-steak, b-b-b-bacon
and--Ker-_choo_!" He gave a hearty sneeze, and pulled out his
pocket-handkerchief; so he had to begin all over again:
"Th-th-th-there's ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-s-s--"
"Chops, thank you," said Aunt Amanda.
The Cabin-boy took his stand behind Toby's chair, and began:
"There's--there's--th-th-th-th--Ker-_choo_! Th-th-there's
ch-ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-s-s--"
"Chops and steak," said Toby.
The Cabin-boy stood behind each of the other chairs in turn, and
repeated each time his entire list. Everybody gave a different order,
and the boy became so bewildered at last that he wiped his forehead with
his pocket-handkerchief, brushed a tear from his eye, and when he had
taken the last order dashed out of the door with a kind of sob.
As soon as he was gone, sounds came through the door by which he had
left, as if a dreadful row was going on in the next room.
"Frightful temper, that cook," said the Able Seaman, "but the boy
certainly does get on his nerves."
In a short time the Cabin-boy came in with four plates at once, and as
he reached Freddie's chair the ship gave a deep lurch downward, and the
four plates shot out of his arms across the room, showering the floor
with chops, steak, bacon and eggs.
The boy gave a wild cry and burst into tears, and fled through the door.
From the next room came the sound of a row more violent than before.
"Never mind," said Mr. Mizzen, "he'll be back."
He came back presently, his eyes very red, and stumbling in and out
managed to put down before each one a plate. Every plate contained
chops, steak, bacon and eggs.
"Now," said Mr. Mizzen, when the breakfast was over, "we'll go up and
hold the election."
When they came on deck, they were astonished to see a considerable
number of men in blue overalls, who were sitting on the deck in a group.
As the passengers approached, they stood up respectfully, and one of
them said something privately to Mr. Mizzen.
"They've held the election already," said the Able Seaman, turning to
the passengers. "There's three dozen of 'em, and they've elected the
captains and mates for the voyage; thirteen captains and twenty-three
mates. They went right ahead without waiting for me, so I'm the only
Able Seaman left on the ship."
"What!" said Aunt Amanda. "Do you mean to tell me--?"
"It's all right, madam," said Mr. Mizzen in an undertone. "You see,
they're all free and equal, and everything goes by voting. They won't
have it any other way. It's lucky they didn't all want to be captains.
It's all right, anyway, because there's none of 'em knows anything about
navigation, and I'm the only one on board that _does_ know; so it comes
to the same thing as if they had elected _me_ captain. But of course
_they_ don't think of that. Not a word. I'll send 'em about their
business now, as soon as they've put on their uniforms."
"Well!" said Aunt Amanda, gasping. "I never in my life--!"
The thirteen captains and the twenty-three mates disappeared from the
deck in a hurry, and in a very few minutes reappeared. Each one of them
wore, in place of his blue overalls, a smart blue suit with brass
buttons and gold braid, and a jaunty blue cap with gold braid around it;
the mates having only nine instead of ten rows of braid around their
sleeves.
The Able Seaman led them aside, and after a few words with them returned
to his passengers.
"Everything's settled," said he. "Some of them are going below with
their dippers, and the rest of them are to look after handling the ship.
The navigation is left to me. We'll get along fine now, provided the
leaks don't get any worse."
Freddie wandered off by himself, to inspect the ship. He could walk very
well now, in spite of the roll of the ship, and he went everywhere. He
found himself finally on the after deck, leaning over the rail and
watching the wake of the ship boiling away so white and beautiful
behind. He was more and more delighted with this strange adventure. It
was too bad that Mr. Toby had forgotten to write the note to his mother,
but it couldn't be helped now, and they would sometime find a place
somewhere or other where they could post a letter. It was so entrancing
to be actually at sea on a ship, with the deck rising and falling, and
the wake boiling away behind, and land nowhere in sight, that it would
seem a pity ever to arrive at the Spanish Main; but the thought of
adventures there--! However, he was in no hurry to have the voyage over.
Aunt Amanda was sitting somewhere with a pile of sailors' socks in her
lap, perfectly contented. Mr. Hanlon was swinging his feet away up
yonder from the topmost yard of the second mast. The Churchwarden, Mr.
Punch, Toby, and the Sly Old Fox were engaged in an earnest discussion
in chairs beside the deck-house. The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg was
speaking confidentially in the ear of the twenty-first mate, in an
effort to borrow a pipeful of tobacco.
Suddenly Freddie heard behind him the loud harsh laughter of Marmaduke
the parrot. Turning round, he saw the parrot perched on the ship's rail,
and before him was the Cabin-boy, shaking his finger in the parrot's
face, and storming away at him angrily. Freddie immediately went over to
them.
"I w-w-w-won't s-s-s-s-stand it no l-l-l-l-longer!" the Cabin-boy was
bawling, his face nearly as red as his hair. "I w-w-w-won't! W-w-w-what
do you m-m-m-mean by m-m-m-mocking me all the t-t-t-ime?"
"Who? M-m-m-m-m-me?" said the parrot.
"Y-y-y-yaas, y-y-y-you!" cried the Cabin-boy. "Just because I
s-s-s-s-s-stutter, do you--do you--do you have to--have
to--s-s-s-s-stut-stutter too?"
"M-m-m-m-me? You're entirely m-m-m-m-mistaken. You're the one that
s-s-s-stut-s-s-s-stutters."
"Ain't you always s-s-saying--saying--ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-steak,
b-b-b-b-bacon and eggs? Ain't you? You've got to k-k-k-k-quit--r-r-right
_now_, d'you _hear_? I w-w-w-won't s-s-s-stand it no l-l-l-l-longer, and
you b-b-b-better b-b-b-believe it!"
"Highty-tighty! Sixty, ninety! Uncle Sam! Pop pop! Th-th-there's
ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-steak, b-b-b-bacon and eggs! Th-th-three ch-ch-cheers
for l-l-l-liver and onions!"
The poor Cabin-boy burst out crying.
"All ri-i-i-ight," he sobbed, stamping his foot. "All ri-i-i-ight. I
c-c-can't help it--if--I do s-s-stutter. But there ain't no
p-p-p-p-parrot going to m-m-m-m-mock me, M-m-m-m-mizzen nor no
M-m-m-m-mizzen. I'll wring--your--bla-a-a-asted--neck first, you
ornery--l-l-l-little--varmint, you s-s-s-see if I--see if
I--d-d-d-don't!"
"Marmaduke's my name!" shrieked the parrot. "Please to note the same!
Pop, pop, pop! I'll have l-l-l-liver and onions, l-l-l-l-liver and
onions, l-l-l-l-liver and onions, pop, pop, pop!"
The Cabin-boy, shaking with sobs, raised his hand threateningly.
"D-d-d-d-don't you d-d-d-dare t-t-t-to--Ker-_choo_!" He sneezed, and out
came his handkerchief.
"Ker-_choo_!" sneezed the parrot, and rubbed his beak with his foot.
This was the last straw. The Cabin-boy reached for Marmaduke's neck, and
would surely have choked him then and there, if Freddie had not caught
his arm and pulled him away.
The Cabin-boy allowed himself to be led off, and Freddie drew him along
towards the companion-way.
"Come along down to my room," said Freddie.
"All r-r-right," said the Cabin-boy, wiping his eyes and sniffling.
"I'll c-c-c-come, b-b-b-but there's going to be trouble--trouble--on
this sh-sh-sh-ship along o' that p-p-p-parrot before this--before this
v-v-v-voyage--is over, you m-m-m-mark m-m-m-m-my w-w-w-w-words!"
CHAPTER XIII
THE CABIN-BOY'S REVENGE
It was a soft moonlight night in southern seas. Our party of
adventurers, with Mr. Mizzen in their midst, were sitting quietly on the
after part of the deck, enjoying the balmy air and watching the bright
track which the full moon made on the water. The sea was very calm.
There was only a light breeze, and The Sieve was hardly moving.
Mr. Mizzen was scratching the head of Marmaduke the parrot, who was
perched on the Able Seaman's wrist. From the forward part of the deck,
where the skippers and mates were sitting in a party of their own, could
be heard the tinkle of a guitar and the sound of a voice singing.
"One always enjoys," said Mr. Punch, "a bit of singing by moonlight on
the water. Hi remember when I was a lad--"
"Why don't you sing for us yourself?" said Toby.
"Oh, do!" cried several of the others.
Mr. Punch looked down at the deck bashfully. "Hi should be wery glad to
oblige," said he, "but I 'ave a slight cold, and besides, Hi only know
one song."
"What is the name of it?" said Aunt Amanda.
"Kathleen Mavourneen," said Mr. Punch.
"That's a very good song," said Aunt Amanda. "Sing it."
"Wait a minute," said Mr. Mizzen, "and I'll get the guitar. I can play
it."
While he was gone, and while the others were talking, Freddie felt a
hand on his arm, and looking down saw the Cabin-boy sitting on the deck
beside his chair, and winking up at him with a strange excited look on
his face. The Cabin-boy pulled Freddie's head down, and whispered in his
ear.
"S-s-s-sh! K-k-keep your eyes o-o-ope-open! Something's going to happen
to-to-tonight! You'll see! Down with M-m-mizzen and M-m-marmaduke!"
Freddie gazed at the Cabin-boy in some alarm, and was about to ask a
question, when Mr. Mizzen returned with the guitar.
"Now we're ready," said he, taking his seat and putting Marmaduke on the
rail of the ship. "Here's the chord. All right, Mr. Punch."
"Hi really 'ave such a cold--" said Mr. Punch.
"That's understood," said Toby. "Now then, strike up."
Mr. Punch cleared his throat very loud, and coughed once or twice, and
began to sing:
"Kathleen Mavourneen, the gr'y dorn is bryking,
The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill."
"Ha! ha! ha! ha!" roared Toby. "The 'orn of the 'unter! Blamed if I ever
hear the like of that before! My stars! What's the matter, Mr. Punch,
can't you put in a little 'h' now and then? The 'orn of the 'unter! Oh
my stars! Ha! ha! ha! ha!"
Mr. Punch was deeply offended. "Hit is quite sufficient," said he. "Hi
shall sing no more." And nothing that anybody could say could induce him
to go on.
"Toby Littleback," said Aunt Amanda, "it's just like you, all over. Now
you ask Mr. Punch's pardon, right this minute."
Toby apologized, and Mr. Punch said that it was of no consequence
whatever; but he would not sing.
"Then I guess you'll have to sing for us yourself, Mizzen," said Toby.
"Right-o," said Mr. Mizzen, thrumming on his guitar. "What'll it be?"
The Cabin-boy sniffed and spoke in an undertone close to Freddie's ear.
"He'll be s-s-singing on the other s-s-side of his f-f-face before this
night's o-o-over, you mark m-m-m-my wo-wo-words!"
"Lady and gentlemen"--began Mr. Mizzen.
"Ker-choo!" sneezed the parrot. "A wet sh-sh-sheet and a f-f-flowing
s-s-s-sea! Three cheers f-f-for the--Ker-choo! Three cheers f-f-for hay
f-f-fe-fever!"
"Down with b-b-b-both of 'em!" whispered the Cabin-boy fiercely in
Freddie's ear.
"Suppose you sing us something about yourself," said Aunt Amanda.
"Ay, ay, ma'am," said Mr. Mizzen; and after playing a few chords and
quivers on the guitar, he began to sing, in a voice like a fog-horn
muffled by a heavy fog, the following song concerning the
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF L. MIZZEN
"When I was a lad I was bad as I could be,
Wouldn't say 'Thank you' nor 'Please,' not me,
And at church I wouldn't kneel but only on one knee,
And at school I wouldn't study my A B C,
And I couldn't conscientious with the Golden Rule agree,
Nor understand the secret of its popularitee,
Nor get a ounce of pleasure from the Rule of Three,--
I was bad right through; sweared 'hully gee,'
And worse sometimes, like 'jiminee;'
Scrawled with a pencil on my jographee,
Stole birds' eggs in the huckleberry tree,--
Oh, I was bad; tried to learn a flea
How to keep his balance on a rolling pea,--
Oh, regular bad; and my ma, said she,
'If you don't be better than what you be,
I'll put you in the cupboard and turn the key.'
But I wouldn't and I wouldn't, no sirree,
So I ran away to sea;
Yes, I ran away to sea;
With a little gingham, bottle of cambric tea,
And a penny wrapped up in my hankerchee,
For I wanted to be free,
So I ran away to sea."
Mr. Mizzen stopped, and looked towards the stern of the ship. "I
thought," said he, "I kind of noticed something queer about the stern
rail; looked as if it was lower. But I guess I'm mistaken."
Everyone looked, but saw nothing amiss. The Cabin-boy tittered into
Freddie's ear.
"Would you like to hear the second verse?" said the Able Seaman.
"Yes, yes! Go on!" said several voices at once.
"Here goes, then," said Mr. Mizzen, thrumming on the guitar. "After I
ran away to sea, I had a good many adventures, and some of 'em--anyway--
"When I was young I followed the Equator
From Pole to Pole in the ship Perambulator,
A four-wheeled schooner, a smoky old freighter,
Loaded with sulphur for an old dead crater
In the Andes Mountains, and a night or two later
With a three-knot gale blowing loud and rude
As the dark grows darker and the gale increases
Of a sudden we strike and we goes all to pieces
On the forty-seventh parallel of latitude.
And then and there we formed a committee
And went in a body up to London City
And walked up the steps and pulled the little bell,
And spoke out bold to the Lords of Creation
Where they sat in their wigs making rules of navigation,
And explained to 'em the dangers of the Deadly Parallel.
'Take 'em down and pull 'em in,'
That's the way we did begin:
''Tisn't leaks nor 'tisn't whiskey
Makes the sailor's life so risky,
It's the parallel as lies acrost our track.
It's the Deadly Parallel, lying there so long and black,
Is the subject of our moderate petition;
'Tisn't much that we are wishin',
But we humbly beg permission
To implore,--
Coil 'em up, we implore, where they won't be in the way,
Out of sight, safe ashore, we humbly pray;
For there's many a tidy bark
Strikes against 'em in the dark
And is never never heard of any more.
So we'll thank you heartilee
If so very kind you'll be
And remove this awful danger from the sea.'
But we couldn't make 'em do it;
No, they simply wouldn't do it;
And the bailiff shoved us gently from the door.
And we wept uncommon salty,
For their reason did seem faulty,
Any way that we could view it:
And the reason which they gave us
Why they really couldn't save us
Was because the thing had ne'er been done before;
No, such a thing had ne'er been done before."
Mr. Mizzen stopped again, and looked along the deck and up at the masts,
and said, "I can't get it out of my head that the deck is slanting a
little more than usual; the ship doesn't seem to come up well at the
stern. However,--would you like to hear any more of this song?"
Everybody begged him to go on.
The Cabin-boy plucked Freddie's sleeve. "I've done it. You'll s-s-s-see!
Won't that M-m-marmaduke and that M-m-m-mizzen sing another tune when
they f-f-f-find out?" Freddie looked at him in amazement; but the Able
Seaman was commencing the third verse of his song:
"When I was older, and bold as you please,
I shipped on the good ship Firkin of Cheese,
For a v'yage of discovery in the far South Seas,
To gather up a cargo of ambergris
That grows in a cave on the amber trees
Where the medicine men, all fine M.D.'s,
For the sake of the usual medical fees,
Crawl in by night on their hands and knees
In a strictly ethical manner to seize
The amber fruit that is used to grease
The itching palm in Shekel's Disease,--
On a long long v'yage, as busy as bees,
Never stopping for a moment to take our ease,
Never changing our course, except when the breeze
Took to blowing to windward,--we had slipped by degrees
Down the oozy slopes of the Hebrides,
And passed through the locks of the Florida Keys,
Which in getting through was a rather tight squeeze,
But danger is nothing to men like these,
When suddenly the lookout, a Portuguese
Who had better been below a-shelling peas,
Shrieked out, 'They are coming! By twos and threes!
On the starboard bow! We are lost!--"
"We're lost! we're lost! we're lost!" came a terrible cry from the
forward part of the ship, as if in echo of Mr. Mizzen's song. "We're
lost! The dippers! The dippers!"
Everyone jumped up, even Aunt Amanda. The Cabin-boy whispered in
Freddie's ear, in great excitement, "N-n-n-now you'll s-see!"
A man came running down the deck, followed by all the skippers and
mates. As he halted before Mr. Mizzen, he was evidently the Cook, by the
white cook's cap he wore on his head. He took off his cap and wiped his
forehead with his hand. He was in a state of mixed alarm and anger.
"We're lost!" he cried, and actually tore his hair with his hands. "It's
that rascally Cabin-boy! The dippers is gone! Every last one of them!
And the ship leakin' by the barrelful! Let me get at that boy once, and
I'll learn him! Fryin' on a slow fire would be too good for him! Swore
he'd get even, he did, and now he's gone and done it! Stole all the
dippers--he's the one that done it, you can bet your last biscuit! There
ain't a dipper left in the ship, and the water pourin' in by the
barrelful! I just found it out, while them lazy skippers and mates was
lying around doing nothing! Gimme one sea-cook for all the skippers on
the ocean, that's what I say! Every last dipper gone! gone! We're lost!"
Everyone looked around for the Cabin-boy. He was nowhere to be seen, but
his laugh was heard overhead, and his face was then seen looking down
from the rigging just above.
"I've d-d-d-done it," he cried, shrieking with laughter. "I'm even with
you n-n-n-n-now! M-m-m-m-mizzen he l-l-l-learned the parrot to
m-m-m-mock me, he did, and Cook he b-b-b-basted me in the g-g-g-galley
all the t-t-t-t-time, and now I'm e-e-e-even with all of 'em. They ain't
g-g-g-going to t-t-t-torment me no m-m-m-m-more! I stole the dippers and
th-th-th-threw 'em overboard, every last one of 'em, and n-n-n-now
you're g-g-g-going to s-s-sink, sink, si-i-_ink_, d-d-d-down, down,
d-d-d-_down_, to the bottom of the--bottom of the s-s-s-_sea_!"
He laughed louder than before, and the angry Cook sprang forward to
climb up after him, but just then the ship gave a violent lurch
backwards, nearly upsetting everyone, and settled down by the stern, so
that that end of the boat was completely under water.
Aunt Amanda screamed. Toby and Mr. Punch came to her at once and
supported her on each side. There was a great hubbub. Everyone tried to
speak at once. Freddie felt his hand grasped in the strong hand of Mr.
Toby, and he began to feel somewhat less afraid. Over the hubbub could
be heard the Cabin-boy's wild laugh.
"Everybody quiet!" shouted Mr. Mizzen. "We must think what we had better
do."
"Yes, yes," cried a number of voices. "What are we going to do?"
"I wish," said Mr. Mizzen, thoughtfully, "I wish we had thought to bring
a rowboat with us."
"What!" cried Aunt Amanda. "Do you mean to tell me that you came away
on this long journey without an extra boat?"
"We didn't think of it," said Mr. Mizzen. "We had plenty of dippers, and
we never thought of anybody's throwing them overboard."
"No! no!" cried all the skippers and mates together. "We never thought
of that!"
"Then bring out the life-preservers at once!" said Aunt Amanda. "And be
quick about it!"
"We haven't any," said Mr. Mizzen. "What would have been the use of
life-preservers if the dippers were all on board? We never thought we
would need them."
"No! no!" cried all the skippers and mates together. "We never thought
of that!"
"Then think of something now," said Aunt Amanda. "Don't you see the
ship's settling deeper in the water?"
The ship was in fact deeper in the water. It was sinking rapidly. The
deck began to list so much towards the stern that it was difficult to
stand on it. The ship was making no headway whatever. The breeze was
even lighter than before, and the sails were hanging limp. It would have
taken a stiff wind indeed to have moved that water-logged boat; and it
lay as if moored to a float, going up and down heavily in the long
swell.
"Do you--er--think," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, "that we
are in--er--danger?"
"Danger!" cried Aunt Amanda. "Something must be done! Are you going to
let us drown without turning a hand?"
"There's only one thing to do," said Mr. Mizzen, "and I don't know
whether it will work or not; but we can try it. Boys, bring up all the
mattresses from the cabins, and a coil of rope! Look alive, now!"
The skippers and mates ran off in great haste and disappeared down the
hatchways. In a few minutes they had laid on the deck a great pile of
mattresses. While this was being done, Aunt Amanda, whose bonnet and
shawl had been brought to her by one of the men, tied her bonnet-strings
under her chin and put her shawl about her shoulders, in readiness for
departure.
"Now then," said Mr. Mizzen, "lash the mattresses together."
The men proved themselves very handy with ropes. With Mr. Mizzen's help,
they lashed together securely a good number of the mattresses, and the
first result of their work was a mattress raft some fifteen feet square,
and some four or five feet thick. A supply of oil-cloth was found in the
store-room, and this was bound by ropes all over and under and around
the raft.
"I don't know whether it will do," said Mr. Mizzen, "but anyway there's
nothing else that _will_ do. Now, lads, over the side with her!"
All the men lent a hand, and the mattress raft was hoisted over the side
and on to the water. To the satisfaction of everyone, it floated there
quietly and easily, with its top well above the surface of the sea.
"Lucky it's a smooth sea," said Mr. Mizzen. "We ought to be pleased with
the state of the weather; couldn't be better; I feel quite joyful about
it."
"Oh, you do," said Aunt Amanda. "Well, I don't feel joyful about it.
What next?"
"Put the provisions aboard," said the Able Seaman; whereupon some of the
men placed on the raft a small barrel of water and some tins of meat,
soup, biscuit, and other things.
"If you please," said Mr. Mizzen, when this had been done, "I think the
passengers had better get aboard. When you're aboard, we'll make another
raft for ourselves. Are you ready?"
The passengers were helped aboard the raft, one after another. Although
the raft bobbed up and down on the swell, it was not a difficult matter
for the men and the boy to get on, for it was held fast against the side
of the ship at a point where it was about even with the deck-rail.
Freddie gave a good spring, and was on in no time; Mr. Hanlon, who did
not seem in the least uneasy, got aboard with the agility of a cat;
there was no trouble with anyone except Aunt Amanda, whose lameness
impeded her movements a good deal.
As the Sly Old Fox, with his high silk hat on his head, was about to
step over the side, he turned and said:
"I feel it my duty, Mr. Mizzen, to register a complaint against the
outrageous treatment to which we are being subjected. I submit under
protest, sir; under protest. If I had for one moment imagined--"
"Oh bosh," said Toby. "Push him over, Mizzen." And the Sly Old Fox was
in fact somewhat rudely pushed over on to the raft.
None of the others made any objection. Mr. Punch, who usually talked a
good deal, was noticeably silent; and when Toby offered him a hand to
help him over, he said stiffly:
"Hi thank you sir, but I do not require any hassistance."
When the Churchwarden took his seat in the middle of the raft, it went
down alarmingly; but nothing happened, and when the Old Codger with the
Wooden Leg was aboard, the party was complete. All the others sat around
the Churchwarden, as close as they could huddle. It was evident that the
raft would float them, at least until it should become water-logged, or
a gale of wind should blow. The men on the ship now let go of the raft,
and proceeded to lash together the remaining mattresses for themselves.
The raft floated quietly away from the ship.
Aunt Amanda's arm was about Freddie. He did not feel, however, that he
needed her protection. He had already forgotten his first alarm, and he
was feeling most of all what an extraordinary adventure it was that had
befallen him; the men from the ship would be nearby on the other rafts,
the sea was calm, the air was warm, and they would probably be picked up
by some vessel before the food gave out. He supposed there were very few
boys who had ever sailed the open sea on a mattress.
"Well, Freddie," said Mr. Toby, as the raft continued to float slowly
away from the ship, "what do you think of this, eh? Have you got the map
of Correction Island with you?"
"Yes, sir, I have. It's in my pocket."
"Good! Don't lose it. We may get to the Island after all, some day; you
never can tell. By the way, Warden, have you got your Odour of
Sanctity?"
"Safe in my pocket," said the Churchwarden. "What about you? Have you
got the Chinaman's head?"
"What? Me? The Chinaman's head? Oh merciful fathers! I clean forgot it!"
cried Toby. "Blamed if I didn't leave it in my room on the ship! Never
thought about it once! If that don't beat all! What'll we do? We can't
get back! We're floating away! Great jumping Joan! What'll we do?"
"Well!" gasped Aunt Amanda. "Won't you never get a head on your
shoulders, you Toby Littleback? Can't you never remember anything? I
declare, Toby Littleback, you are the most addlepated, exasperating,--Oh
dear, we'd better hail the ship, quick!"
The party on the raft set up a loud cry, which was answered from the
ship.
"The Chinaman's head!" shouted Toby. "On the dresser in my cabin! I
forgot it! Run and get it! Quick! We're floating away!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" came a voice from the ship.
The company on the raft waited anxiously. In a very few moments, which
seemed like a great many, a hail came from the side of the ship, and
they could see the Cabin-boy standing at a point of the deck where it
was now sloped high out of the water, and he was holding the Chinaman's
head aloft in both hands, as if about to throw it towards the raft.
"Don't throw it!" shouted Toby. "Tie a rope to it first!"
But he was too late. The Cabin-boy raised the Chinaman's head higher,
swinging his body sideways, and as a dark figure came up behind him and
tried to seize his arm, he gave a mighty heave and toss, and sent the
Chinaman's head flying through the air in the direction of the raft.
For a second it glistened in the moonlight. In another second it
descended towards the raft, and almost reached it; but not quite; it
came down within five feet of it, and fell like a shot plump into the
ocean. It splashed, and that was all. The Chinaman's head was gone.
A wail went up from the company on the raft at this terrible disaster.
How terrible it really was they did not even yet understand, but they
were soon to learn. Freddie was almost ready to burst into tears. Aunt
Amanda was so exasperated that she could scarcely speak. The others
seemed to be stupefied.
"Oh! oh! oh!" cried Aunt Amanda. "You Toby, you! Now you've done it for
good. Why, why, _why_ can't you never remember anything? It's your
fault, and don't you never try to lay it to that Cabin-boy! And now
what'll we do if we ever get separated from Mr. Mizzen? How'll we ever
call him up to help us out of trouble if we get into it? Here's a
pretty kettle of fish, now ain't it? I hope and pray we can stick close
to Mr. Mizzen until we're all safe and--"
"Look there!" cried Mr. Punch. "Bless me heyes, what do I see? Look at
the ship!"
It was high time to look at the ship. No sooner had the Chinaman's head
disappeared into the depths of the ocean, than a change began to come
over the ship. It grew paler and thinner in the moonlight. The green
shutters along the side faded away one by one. The dark hull became
lighter; the sails grew so thin that at last the watchers could see the
stars shining through them. The whole ship seemed to waver and dissolve
into a pale mist. It did not sink; no, the bow was still high out of the
water, and all the masts and sails were visible. It simply faded away
where it stood.
As it was becoming more and more vague, the voice of Marmaduke the
parrot came across the water out of the rigging; a far-away voice, which
grew fainter and fainter as the ship grew dimmer, until it died away as
if in the distance.
"Th-th-th-three ch-ch-cheers!" it said. "Th-th-th-three ch-ch-cheers for
l-l-l-l-liver and onions--th-th-three ch-ch-cheers--l-l-l-liver--and--"
As Marmaduke's voice died away, the ship dissolved like a pale ghost and
vanished. The Sieve was gone.
The party of adventurers sat on their mattress raft in the midst of the
wide ocean, with never a ship to be seen; the long sea-swell rolled
placidly over the place where their ship had been. They sat huddled
together in silence around the Churchwarden, too horrified to speak a
word.
The moon glistened on the Sly Old Codger's high silk hat.
CHAPTER XIV
THE CRUISE OF THE MATTRESSES
"I wish," said Aunt Amanda, "that I had brought some sewing with me. I
don't suppose I could sew very well by moonlight on a mattress in the
middle of the ocean, but I don't believe this would have happened if I'd
had my sewing with me."
"Hi carn't see 'ow that would 'ave--" began Mr. Punch.
"Now look here," said Toby. "We've got to sit in the middle of this here
raft, or else she'll tilt over. Why don't you sit in the middle,
Warden?"
"I _am_ sitting in the middle," said the Churchwarden. "I wonder what
the Vestry would say if they could--"
"I wish it distinctly understood," said the Sly Old Fox, "that I am here
under protest. If I had for one moment imagined--"
"Now listen to me," said Aunt Amanda. "There's got to be a captain of
this expedition, and as there's nobody here but a lot of helpless
men-creatures, I suppose I've got to be the captain myself. All those in
favor say aye. I'm elected. That's done. Warden, sit a little bit over
to the right."
"Ay, ay, sir; ay, ay, ma'am; certainly," said the Warden.
"Now everybody sit up close to the Warden," said Aunt Amanda. "There. Is
the raft balanced now?"
"Ay, ay, sir," said the Churchwarden. "I mean, ay, ay, ma'am."
"Then my orders as captain is, to sit still and see what's going to
happen."
Nothing happened. Freddie grew sleepy, and leaned his head against Aunt
Amanda's shoulder. As he was falling off to sleep, a slim dark object
rose from the sea near by and whirred across the ocean and plopped into
the water.
"Bless me heyes," said Mr. Punch, "hit's a flying-fish, as ever was."
"Is it, really?" said Freddie. "Did he really fly?"
"How wonderful is nature!" said the Sly Old Codger. "Such an opportunity
to improve the mind! My little friend, I trust you will profit by what
you have seen. It is very educational; very educational indeed."
"Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "What do you
suppose--er--ahem!--if you will pardon me--what are those little things
sparkling out there on the surface of the water?"
"Hit's a school of sardines!" said Mr. Punch. "Hi know them wery well;
when I was a lad--"
"There must be millions of them," said Freddie. "Just look!"
The tiny fish were leaping by thousands on the surface of the water,
immediately in the path of moonlight; and they flashed and sparkled as
they leaped.
"Hi believe there's a great fish arfter them," said Mr. Punch.
"Maybe a whole regiment of big fish," said Toby. "By crackey, there's
one now!"
As he spoke, a black fin cut the water near the sardines, and they
became more agitated than ever; from the size of the fin, it must have
been a very great fish indeed; and along the upper edge of the fin was
a row of long sharp saw-teeth, looking big and strong enough to have
sawed through a wooden plank.
"There's another one!" cried Freddie.
"And another! and another!" cried Aunt Amanda.
There must have been five or six of the great fish.
"I hope they won't come near this boat," said Toby. "One of 'em would
just about turn us upside down if he struck us."
"Mercy!" said Aunt Amanda. "Don't say such a terrible thing."
At that moment a great round black back appeared above the surface of
the water, some hundred yards or so away, and in another moment a great
black blunt head joined itself to the back, and a spout of white vapor
rose from the head.
"A whale!" cried several voices at once.
"Oh!" said Aunt Amanda. "Suppose he should come this way?"
The five or six fins of the great fish near the sardines now
disappeared. The whale threw up his enormous tail, and went down head
first beneath the water. Almost immediately, one of the saw-toothed fins
reappeared, much nearer the raft than before.
"Merciful heavens!" cried Aunt Amanda. "He's coming towards us! Oh
dear!"
The great fish was in fact evidently making straight towards the raft.
Freddie clutched Aunt Amanda's arm. The fin cut the water at a high
speed; it disappeared at times, but on each reappearance it was still
pointed towards the raft.
"He's nearly on us!" cried Aunt Amanda. "Hold on tight, Freddie!"
The great fish came on with a rush, and as he reached the raft struck it
with his back and slid under it. There was a tremendous bump, which
nearly sent the company flat; then there was a rubbing under the raft,
and everything was quiet again.
"He's gone," said Toby.
"No, 'e isn't," said Mr. Punch. "Look at 'is tail!"
A great tail could be seen beyond the edge of the raft, just below the
surface of the water. It thrashed about and churned up the water
violently for a few seconds, and then waved back and forth quietly; but
it did not disappear.
"By crackey," said Toby, "he's stuck! His fin has got stuck into the
bottom of the raft! He's got the whole kit and bilin' of us on his
back!"
"Mercy on us!" said Aunt Amanda.
"Is it really true?" said Freddie.
"On due consideration," said the Churchwarden, "I think Toby's right."
"Hi believe 'e is!" said Mr. Punch. "Blimy if I ever rode on the back of
a fish before! Now 'e's got us on 'is back, what's 'e going to do with
us?"
"We're moving!" cried Freddie.
"So we are!" said Aunt Amanda.
"Blamed if we ain't," said Toby.
The mattress craft was in fact moving; very slowly, indeed, but still
moving; and it was moving in the opposite direction to the fish's tail,
which could be seen now and then under the water, waving back and forth
like the tail of a swimming fish.
"If this don't beat all," said Toby. "That fish down there has certainly
got his fin hooked into our mattress, and he's swimming along with us on
top of him. I've seen a snail crawlin' with his shell on top of him, but
a fish with a load of mattresses and live-stock is a new thing to me!"
"I'm the captain," said Aunt Amanda, "and my orders is to sit as still
as you can and see where he's taking us to."
"Ay, ay, sir," said the Churchwarden. "I mean, ay, ay, ma'am."
The party huddled on top of the mattresses sat as still as mice, hardly
daring to breathe. Their little craft continued to move gently through
the water. They expected each moment that the fish would free himself,
but evidently his fin had embedded itself so firmly in one of the bottom
mattresses that he could not get loose; he went on swimming with his
load on his back.
Hour after hour they waited to feel their craft stop; but hour after
hour it moved gently and slowly across the surface of the sea. They
settled themselves more comfortably against each other, and spoke very
little. No one noticed that their raft was now much lower in the water.
The air was warm, the moonlight and the silence were extremely soothing,
and the motion of the raft was gentle and languorous. Freddie's head
sank against Aunt Amanda's shoulder, and his eyes closed; and in another
moment he was asleep. Aunt Amanda herself nodded, and her eyes closed;
she was asleep too. Toby yawned, and leaned heavily against the Sly Old
Codger; his eyes closed, and--in short, every eye closed, and every
frame relaxed heavily against its neighbor, and at last, doubled over in
a closely huddled group in the exact center of their mattresses, the
whole party slept; each and every one.
The raft went on steadily and quietly through the water, the moon
glittered on the sea, the raft settled deeper and deeper, and there was
absolute silence on the ocean, except for a slight groan which came
regularly and gently from the nose of the Churchwarden.
CHAPTER XV
A FALL IN THE DARK
Freddie was the first to be awake in the morning. He was cramped and
stiff. He sat up straight, rubbed his eyes, and stretched his arms. He
looked abroad, and the sight which met him caused him to grasp Aunt
Amanda's hand in excitement.
"Land!" he cried, so loud that everyone awoke.
"Blamed if it ain't," said Toby, and put on his white derby hat,
considering that he had thereby dressed himself for the day.
All the others sat bolt upright, and stared across the smooth blue sea,
sparkling in the sunlight.
Not more than a quarter of a mile away rose a tall black cliff straight
up out of the water. It stretched away on either hand for miles and
miles, and came to an end in the ocean at the right hand and the left,
so that it was probably the side of an island. The sea rolled up and
down at the foot of the cliff, making a beautiful white splash against
the rocks.
"But how on earth," said Aunt Amanda, "are we ever to get ashore on such
a place as that?"
"We're moving towards it," said Freddie.
"Blamed if we ain't," said Toby. "We'll soon know whether we can get
ashore or not."
They moved very slowly, and it was a long time before they came close
enough to the cliff to see what their chances of a landing might be.
They floated at last within two or three hundred yards of the cliff. It
was very dangerous looking; the waves rolled over huge black rocks at
its foot and broke in white foam against its side; it seemed the last
place in the world for a landing.
A great swell rolled in from the sea and brought them nearer the
breakers.
"My word!" cried Mr. Punch, excitedly. "There's a harch!"
"A what?" said Toby.
"See!" said Aunt Amanda. "There's a little archway in the rock, like the
mouth of a cave, over there to the right! Don't you see? With the water
pouring in! Over there!"
It was true. There was an archway, like the mouth of a cave; and into
this the water was streaming in a strong current, making a kind of
passage-way, more or less smooth, through the breakers.
"Yes!" said Freddie. "And I believe we're headed towards it!"
Their course changed a little to the right, as if the fish who was
piloting them had now taken a correct bearing. They found themselves in
a passage through the breakers where the water swirled in towards the
arch. They were caught in this current and were swept to a point close
under the towering black rocks, and in another moment they were directly
before the opening. The current seized the raft as if with strong hands
and drew it in.
They were in a cavern, narrow and high, whose interior was lost in
darkness. The current carried them onward into the dark. The roar of the
breakers suddenly ceased, and as they looked behind them the archway was
no more than a speck of light. Their raft turned slightly to the left,
and at that moment the speck of light disappeared, as if they had
turned a corner; and the darkness became so black that no one could see
even the person sitting next to him.
"I wonder," said Toby, "if there are any matches and candles on board
this boat. I'm going to see."
He was silent for a while, and it was evident from the tilting of the
raft that he had moved his position. Finally he said "Ah!" and a match
spluttered and went out in the breeze which was blowing past them; but
after it went out there remained a glimmer, and Toby was holding up a
lighted candle, and shielding it from the draught with his hand.
"Found 'em in the tin with the biscuits," said Toby.
He held the candle on high so that its little beam searched out the
darkness in front and on both sides.
They were in a narrow passage-way. On each side was a wall of solid
rock, not ten feet beyond the edge of the raft. How high the wall was
they could not tell, for it was lost in the darkness overhead. They were
slipping along a narrow alley-way of water. Toby held the candle higher,
and everyone peered into the darkness ahead; but it was impossible to
see more than a few yards.
"I wish it distinctly understood," said the Sly Old Codger, "that I am
here under--"
"Never mind," said Aunt Amanda, "my orders as captain is, to say nothing
and wait and see what will happen."
The raft turned a corner to the right, and slipped on silently in that
direction for a long distance, probably for more than a mile. Then the
raft turned again, this time to the left; and after about ten minutes
longer Toby suddenly said, "S-sh! What's that?" They all listened, and
heard afar off a sound as of rushing water, very faint, but
unmistakable.
"Er--excuse me," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Do you
think--ahem!--there is any--er--_danger_?"
"I don't like it," said Aunt Amanda. "I don't think it's safe in here."
"I think we are lower in the water," said Freddie.
"So we are," said Toby. "The water's coming up over the top now, and if
we don't get on dry land soon, we'll all be sitting in a puddle."
In spite of its being water-logged and lower in the water, the raft was
beginning to go faster, for the current had suddenly become swifter. The
wind blew stronger; it swept through the narrow passage-way so briskly
that Toby put his hat over the candle; but he was too late; the light
wavered and went out. A groan went up from the company.
"I can hear that rushing sound plainer," said Aunt Amanda.
"Hit's wery like a water-fall," said Mr. Punch.
"I wish it understood," said the Sly Old Fox, "distinctly understood,
that I am here under protest. If I had ever for one moment imagined--"
"O-o-oh!" screamed Aunt Amanda. "We're going--faster--o-o-oh!"
She threw her arm around Freddie and held him tight. The current
suddenly became swifter; the raft, almost under water, was leaping
forward at a frightful speed. Directly ahead of them, growing louder and
louder, was the roar of rushing water.
"Hold--on--tight, Freddie!" cried Aunt Amanda.
"We'll all be done for," shouted Toby, "in another--minute, I
reckon,--hold--on--tight!"
As Toby said this, the raft almost galloped. The roar of falling water
burst on them from close ahead. The raft seemed to rise up and then to
sink down. Its nose slanted downward. The roar of falling water was all
about them. Aunt Amanda screamed, but no one could hear her. The raft
paused and teetered for an instant; then it pointed downward, almost
straight, and the whole party, the raft, and the fish under the raft,
plunged downward through the darkness on a cascade of tumbling water;
down, down, down; the raft shot from under and the passengers shot off;
in a twinkling they were going down the water-fall on their backs. Would
they never reach the bottom? There did not seem to be any bottom; but--
In another moment, there were Aunt Amanda and Freddie (her arm still
about him) standing on their feet in about twenty-four inches of quiet
water on a solid bottom. Dark forms appeared, one after another, beside
them, and almost at once all the party were standing together in a
group, in about two feet of quiet water, on a solid bottom.
"I fear," said the voice of the Sly Old Codger, "that I have lost my
hat."
They could see that they were in a great chamber, whose walls they could
make out dimly on each side. They could not see the top of the
water-fall, but they could see its lower part very plainly. Through the
tumbling water of the fall, near the bottom, sunlight was shining.
Behind the water was an opening some six feet high, and as the water
fell across this opening the sunlight from without shone through it,
making it glow with green and sparkle with white. The water-fall hung
over this opening like a curtain.
"Well," said Aunt Amanda, "I'm pretty near drowned, and my clothes are a
sight to behold. But I'm the captain of this expedition, and my orders
is, that we go ashore."
The water proved to be shallow all about them, and they waded to a strip
of dry ground beside the wall which rose at their left as they faced the
fall. Aunt Amanda, whose cane was gone, was assisted by Mr. Toby and
Mr. Punch.
"Blamed if my hat ain't gone too," said Toby. "She was a good hat, I'll
have to say that for her."
The party walked along the edge of the water, and came to the end wall
of the chamber, opposite the fall. There lay the wreck of the raft, with
the tail of the great fish sticking out from beneath.
"I fear," said the Sly Old Codger, "that the faithful creature has
departed this life."
"He's dead as a doornail," said Toby.
"Poor thing," said Aunt Amanda. "Anyway, my orders is to explore this
cavern, and see what we can find."
At this end of the cavern the water was slipping away under the wall,
and this outlet explained why the water inside remained so shallow. The
party commented on it, and then walked along the side wall towards the
other end where the fall was. When they were midway along this wall, a
cry from Toby, who had left Aunt Amanda to the care of Mr. Punch,
startled the others.
"What's this?" he cried. "Look here!"
He was stooping over something, and as the others gathered round, they
saw that he was stooping over a pile of small square boxes, standing in
several long rows along the wall.
Mr. Hanlon lifted one of the boxes, with a great effort, and shook it. A
jingling sound came from within.
"Aha!" said the Sly Old Fox. "That beautiful music! It is the sound,
dear friends, the sound of--of Money!"
"Bless my soul!" cried Aunt Amanda. "Is it?"
"My opinion is," said the Churchwarden, "that there is gold in that
box."
"Then open it!" said Aunt Amanda.
Mr. Hanlon shook his head. The box was locked tight, and it was bound
with iron bands. All the boxes were locked, and they were all bound with
iron bands.
"Come along this way," said Toby. "There's something more here."
Further along the wall, leaning against it, was a row of large
coffee-sacks, each bound around the mouth by strong twine. One of these
sacks Mr. Hanlon quickly opened. He tilted it over and poured out its
contents on the ground. The party of onlookers gasped with astonishment.
From the mouth of the bag fell pearl necklaces; diamond rings; ruby
rings; emerald rings; all kinds of rings; gold bracelets and chains;
silver forks and spoons; gold toothpicks; gold cups; silver vases; and a
great variety of other things of the same sort.
It was a moment or two before anyone spoke. Then the Churchwarden said,
"It's my opinion that this is pirates' treasure."
"Mercy on us!" said Aunt Amanda. "And they may be in here on us any
minute!"
Mr. Hanlon opened others of the bags. Each was filled with rare and
costly articles of gold, silver, and precious stones.
"Do you think it's really pirates?" said Freddie, in an awed whisper.
"Not a doubt of it!" said Toby, in a voice much lower than before. "Look
at this!"
He pointed to a placard on the wall above the sacks. The light was
almost too dim for reading, but the writing on the placard was very
large, and Toby, by standing on one of the bags, was able to make it
out. He read it aloud.
"Beware! Hands Off! Whoever Shall Touch
it He Shall Die by the Hand of Lingo!
With a Knife in the Throat! Long Live
King James and the Jolly Roger!"
"There a skull and cross-bones under it," said Toby. "Pirates, as sure
as you're born."
"We'd better be getting away from here," said Aunt Amanda.
"Better not speak so loud," said Toby. "How are we to----?"
"S-sh!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, in a frightened
whisper. "Excuse me--look--I saw something under the water-fall. What's
that?"
"Stand close back against the wall," whispered Toby, "and don't speak a
word."
They crowded back against the wall, alongside of the treasure, and
looked towards the water-fall.
A dark object was rising from the shallow water at the foot of the fall.
As they watched, another dark object appeared to come through from under
the fall and apparently from behind it; and this object rose also from
the shallow water near the foot of the fall, and took its place beside
the other. One after another, five more of these dark objects came from
under the fall and apparently from behind it, and stood upright in the
shallow water.
There were now seven in all. They moved in a group towards the shore.
Each of them had two legs, and each was muffled from top to toe in a
single loose garment with baggy legs; they walked somewhat like a
company of bears. They stood on the dry ground, and one of them
proceeded to take off the loose garment with which he was muffled, while
the others assisted him with evident deference.
First came off a close hood which covered his head, cheeks, and neck. As
the watchers by the wall saw his head, they held their breath in
terror, and Aunt Amanda clutched Freddie's arm. Around the head was a
tight-fitting kerchief, knotted behind; in his ears were great round
ear-rings; and gripped between his teeth was a long pointed knife.
Aunt Amanda gave a sign as if she was about to scream, but Toby quickly
put his hand over her mouth.
As the man with the ear-rings got himself out of the legs of his loose
garment, the party by the wall saw that he was a short and burly man, of
a ferocious aspect. In a sash which he wore was stuck on one side a
cutlass, and on the other a long pistol. He wore no coat, and his shirt
was open at the throat. His arms showed from the elbows down, and they
were thick with muscles. His trousers were knee breeches, buckled just
below the knee, and he was very bow-legged; his calves were big and
knotted.
When his outer covering had been removed, it was plain that he was
perfectly dry from head to foot, except for water on his face and hands;
and while the others were taking off their coverings, he withdrew with
one hand the knife from between his teeth, and with the other hand wiped
the water from his eyes and face. He then stuck the knife in his sash,
waved his hands somewhat daintily in the air as if to dry them, took
from his breeches pocket a large white handkerchief, completed with this
handkerchief the drying of his face and hands, examined his finger-nails
carefully, blew on them, and proceeded to polish them delicately with
his pocket-handkerchief, at the same time swearing two dreadful oaths,
in a low tone of voice, at the six men who were struggling with their
coverings. When these had been removed, the six appeared in much the
same style of dress as the first, and each bore a cutlass and a pistol;
but their clothing was much ruder than his, and they had no ear-rings;
instead of sashes they wore leather belts.
"Kerchoo!" rang out a sneeze as sharp as a pistol-shot, from the party
by the wall.
"Dear me," said the Sly Old Codger, out loud, "I do believe I'm catching
cold."
At the sudden discharge of the sneeze, the seven men jumped as if they
had in fact been shot. Each one snatched out his cutlass with his right
hand and his pistol with his left, and faced in the direction of the
sneeze.
"Confound your cold," whispered Toby fiercely to the Sly Old Codger,
"now we're done for."
The seven men with their cutlasses and pistols, with the ear-ringed man
in the lead, tiptoed stealthily in the direction of the sneeze.
As they came closer to the party who were crouched against the wall,
Aunt Amanda slipped down quietly to the ground at Toby's feet. The
captain of the expedition had fainted.
CHAPTER XVI
CAPTAIN LINGO AND A FINE PIECE OF HEAD-WORK
The man with the ear-rings muttered something in a fierce undertone to
his six followers. They spread out behind him in a wide line. With a
stealthy step they came forward noiselessly. The party by the wall held
their breath in terror. Nearer and nearer came the seven men, still in
perfect silence. They reached the cowering company by the wall, leveled
their pistols at their breasts, held up their cutlasses ready to strike,
and looked at their leader for the command to kill.
At this moment the man with the ear-rings observed the form of Aunt
Amanda on the ground. He stooped down and examined her, and stood up
again. Then he eyed the company of travellers with a hard cold eye, and
spoke deliberately and in a low voice. His manner of speech was somewhat
stilted and precise, and scarcely what might have been expected of a
pirate.
"The ceremony," said he, "will be deferred for the moment. I commend you
meanwhile to perfect quietness; one movement, and the consequences may
be fatal. A hint is sufficient. I perceive here a lady in distress. 'Tis
a monstrous pity, indeed. I regret that we were unaware of the presence
of a lady; had we known, we should certainly have taken our measures
more fittingly. I crave your pardon. No one has yet accused Captain
Lingo of rudeness to a lady. Ketch, put up thy cutlass and go
straightway to the pool and wet this pocket-handkerchief. Be brisk, thou
muddle-pated son of a sea-cook! Haste!"
The man called Ketch jumped as though he had been stung, and took from
Captain Lingo's hand a fine white cambric handkerchief which the captain
had produced from his breeches pocket, and running to the water
moistened it and returned in great haste.
While this was going on, the poor captives were able to examine their
chief captor more carefully. They remarked with surprise the fine
quality of the handkerchief which he had handed to his man, and they
were even more surprised to note the whiteness and fineness of the linen
of his shirt. His breeches were of blue velvet, and his sash and the
kerchief which bound his head were of crimson silk. On the fingers of
each hand he wore three or four diamond rings, which sparkled
brilliantly in the half-darkness. His stockings were plainly of silk,
and the buckles at his knees and on his shoes were of polished silver,
outlined in diamonds. His face was hard and cruel, but its
unpleasantness may have been due to a long scar which crossed his mouth
from his right cheek to his chin. When he smiled, as he did in referring
to the lady in distress, the scar gave to his face a singularly evil
expression.
Taking the wet handkerchief from Ketch's hand, he knelt beside Aunt
Amanda and bathed her face and wrists, slapping her cheeks and temples
smartly now and then with the handkerchief, and changing her position so
that her head lay lower than her body. After he had worked over her with
much care for a few moments, Aunt Amanda opened her eyes. She was
staring at the frightful crooked smile of a strange man with rings in
his ears and a kerchief on his head. She started up, bewildered.
"Where's Toby? Where am I? Who are you?"
"Captain Lingo, ma'am," said the strange man, "at your service."
"Let me up," said Aunt Amanda. She struggled to her feet, rejecting the
assistance offered by the ear-ring'd man, and stood facing him, her
bedraggled bonnet very much over her right ear. "Who are you?" she said
again.
"Your humble servant, ma'am," said the strange man, smiling his crooked
smile. "Captain Lingo, by name. A gentleman adventurer of the high seas.
Owner of the treasure which you have discovered here in our little
retreat. Known here on the Spanish Main as the Scourge of Ships, and
loyal servant of his blessed Majesty King James, whom the saints defend.
Your obedient humble servant to command." He made the lady a very
courtly bow.
Toby whispered into Freddie's ear. "He can't be so terrible bad, not
with all that polite way of talking. Don't be afraid. We'll be all right
with this pirate. Who on earth is King James?"
Aunt Amanda was also much relieved by the pirate's polite address.
"As long as you are my obedient servant," said she, "I'll thank you to
help us to get out of here as soon as possible. We didn't want to come
in the first place, and we are in a hurry to get out."
Captain Lingo laughed heartily. "They are in a hurry to get out, lads,"
he said to his companions; and at this they all laughed uproariously.
"I don't see anything to laugh at," said Aunt Amanda. "If we don't get
out of here soon, we'll catch our death of cold."
This made Captain Lingo laugh more heartily than before. "Ha! ha! ha!
Their death of cold! That would be a rare fine thing, but a bit too
slow, lads, eh?" And the other six laughed again, so that the walls of
the chamber echoed with their mirth.
"What do you mean by too slow?" said Aunt Amanda.
"Madam," said Captain Lingo, "we are a little pressed for time. We
really could not wait for you to die of colds."
"What?" said Aunt Amanda faintly, her feeling of confidence beginning to
ooze away. "Do you mean to say----?"
"Madam," said the pirate, seriously, "I will put it to you plainly.
Our treasure, which you have discovered, has taken a great deal of
hard work to accumulate. We really couldn't bear to lose it. The
people of this island, and a great many other people besides, have
been trying for many years to find it. You have not only found it,
but you have even gone so far as to open certain of our bags, in
spite of the warning posted above your heads. Now picture to
yourselves, dear madam and gentlemen, what consequences would
certainly ensue if you were to leave--here--ahem!--alive."
"Oh!" gasped Aunt Amanda. "Leave--here--alive!"
"All the fruits of our industry would be lost, and our own safety would
be imperilled. You will readily see that, of course. 'Tis a pity so many
will have to die at once, for it will mess up the place very badly, and
I always endeavor to be neat. But why, _why_ did so many of you come at
once? Couldn't you have come, say two at a time? It would have made so
much less trouble."
"Ho!" said Mr. Punch. "Hif we 'ad only stopped at 'ome, hall of us!"
"However, I do not wish you to feel too keenly the trouble you are
putting us to; my brave lads will cheerfully put up with the
inconvenience, though I must confess the amount of blood will be quite
unusual, and so many bodies will be troublesome to bury. I wish it were
possible to have you walk the plank. However, pray do not bother too
much on our account."
"We weren't thinking about you at all," said Toby. "We were thinking
about ourselves."
"Oh," said Captain Lingo, in a tone of disappointment. "I beg your
pardon; I misunderstood. At any rate, we will now prepare for our little
ceremony. If there are any trifling articles of jewelry and the like, I
will be pleased to----"
"But this boy!" cried Toby. "And this lady! You don't mean to--you can't
mean----"
"Not for worlds," said Captain Lingo, "would I be rude to a lady. I
trust you will find my conduct towards the lady beyond reproach. There
shall be no rudeness of any kind. Merely a quick stroke, and all will be
over. No violence, no roughness of any kind; not a word to offend the
most sensitive ears. A single stroke, and the affair is done. And let me
tell you, I have here with me a Practitioner who is very expert in this
sort of business: our friend Ketch, in fact, who was so kind as to wet
the handkerchief for the lady. I assure you that you are in great luck
to fall into the hands of such a Practitioner; he will make it as
pleasant for you as possible; one stroke only, I promise you. With one
stroke of a cutlass, he is able to slice off a head as neatly as you
could do it with a broadaxe; there are very few who can do it with a
cutlass, let me tell you that. Many men have become famous by being
operated on by Ketch. I remember a case--However," he said, looking
about him as if considering something, and speaking rather to himself
than to the others, "it would be difficult to bury the bodies here, and
the light is not very good. I think, yes, I think it had better be done
outside. You are already wet, and I trust that another immersion will
not inconvenience you too much. Lads," he said to his six men, "put on
the rubber suits, and help our friends under the fall. Look alive, now."
The six men immediately ran to their rubber suits and began to put them
on. While they were doing this, Toby put one arm about Freddie and the
other about Aunt Amanda. She lowered her head to his shoulder for a
moment, but she soon raised it, and standing very erect she said, "Very
well, if it must be, it must. It's easy to see that this bloodthirsty
villain means every word he says; but I ain't going to whimper; I'm the
captain, and I order that everybody keep up his courage, and wait and
see what will happen."
"Ay, ay, ma'am," said the Churchwarden.
"Do you know," whispered the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, "I believe
that we are in a good deal of--er--danger."
Freddie put his hand in Toby's, and held it tight. "You keep close to me
if you can," said Toby, squeezing his hand. "We may be rescued at the
last minute; you never can tell. Don't lose your nerve."
Freddie was trembling with fear, and the hand which held Toby's was as
cold as ice; but he said nothing; the others were being brave, and he
resolved that he would be as brave as the rest, up to the very last. He
began to think of his mother and his father, and to wonder what would
become of them if he should be--but he forced himself not to think of
that; he pressed his lips tight together, and commanded himself to be
brave.
The six pirates returned, clad in their baggy rubber suits, and looking
very much like bears walking on their hind legs. They brought with them
Captain Lingo's suit, and helped him to get into it. When he was encased
like the others, with only his hands and face showing, he said:
"Now, madam, I will assist you to the fall."
"We'll attend to that," put in Toby, quickly. "Come on, Mr. Punch."
Aunt Amanda's cane having been lost, she found more difficulty in
walking than formerly, but Toby and Mr. Punch supported her to such
good effect that she kept up with the others very well on their march
into the water towards the fall. All, except the pirates, shivered as
the cold water came again around their knees, and they looked with fear
upon the tumbling cataract
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