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Updated: May 16, 2025
"This is check, Merriman," said the last comer, as the seamen, flourishing their hangers menacingly, pressed forward past the prostrate body of Desmond. "The fellow has escaped you; best withdraw at discretion." "Come on," shouted Bulger, waving his hook. "Bill Bulger en't the man to sheer off from a couple of landlubbers."
If it didn't break his neck, sir, my name en't Bill Bulger, which I'm sorry for his poor wicked soul all the same." Phyllis had her hands clasped about Desmond's arm. "Is he dead?" she asked in a voice of awe. "Come away," said Desmond quietly, leading her toward the house. "Let us find your mother." The fight was over.
Well, I says to my horse, 'Gee-ho! says I. Not knowing my true chrisom name, the stranger takes up my words an' fits 'em to me. 'Gee-ho! says I; 'Gee-ho! says he; only bein' a kind o' furriner he turns it into 'Jehu'; an' the name fits me uncommon. Hee hee!" "I may be wrong," said Bulger, "but 'tis my belief 'Hee haw! would fit you a big sight better. But hark! en't them the bells a-ringin'?"
During the trade depression which culminated in 1908-09 I was frequently made aware of the disquiet of their minds by the scraps of talk which reached me as I passed along the road, and were not meant for my hearing. From women who were comparing notes with one another, this was the sort of thing one would hear: "'En't had nothin' to do this six weeks; and don't sim no likelihoods of it."
Of course, I'm in a way helpless now, being on the ship's books, and he in a manner of speakin' an orficer; but one of these days there'll be a reckonin', or my name en't Bulger." The boatswain brought down his fist with a resounding whack on the scuttle butt, threatening to stave in the top of the barrel. "And how did the fight end?" asked Desmond.
"Well, sir, 'tis there my idea of taking soundings comes in. The Good Intent can't be towed, not with our handful of men; but why shouldn't she be kedged? That's the notion, sir; and I guess you'll think it over." "By jimmy, Toley, you en't come out o' Salem, Massachusetts, for nothing.
'Tis a notion, a rare one; Ben Barker en't the man to bear a grudge, and I take back them words o' mine leastways some on 'em. "Bo'sun, get ready to lower the longboat." The longboat was lowered, out of sight of the enemy.
And then the fever came aboard, an' somehow or other I got shipped to the mounseers' hospital at Chandernagore, which they was very kind to me, sir; there en't no denyin' that.
I didn't know him at fust, comin' up behind t'other chap; but when I seed that purple coat with the gold lace and the face of him above it I knowed him. In course there was no more fight for us then; 'twas hip-hip hurray and up with our hangers. Clive, he smiled and touched his hat. 'Bulger, says he, 'you en't much fatter " "Does he know you, then?" "Know me! In course he does.
S I bin so busy I en't bin anear him this week for fear he should want me up there. I knows his grass wants cuttin'. But I 'xpects I shall ha' to satisfy 'n Monday, or else p'raps he won't like it." Sometimes he takes a day for his own affairs, carting home hop-bine in his donkey-cart, or getting heath for some thatching job that has been offered to him.
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