United States or Tajikistan ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"An' tay," roared out Tim Rooney, resuming his seat again, which seeing, the dark little man, who had grown almost pallid with fright, swiftly retreated into the darkness of his pantry, muttering below his breath; while Tim, turning to me, asked, "Ye'd loike some tay wid y'r grub, Misther Gray-ham, wouldn't ye now?" "Yes," I said.
"Sure, ye'll excuse me, Misther Gray-ham," he said presently, after another word or two on irrelevant matters; "but I must stop yarnin' now, as I expexes the foorst mate aboord ivery minnit, an' he'll be groomblin' like a badger wid a sore tail if those lazy lubbers ain't hove all the cargy in. We've got to warp out o' dock this arternoon, an' the tide'll make about `six bells'!" "When is that?"
I cried stopping my shivering and feeling all aglow with excitement. "Don't you see that boat there coming towards us to capture the ship?" "Arrah, don't make a fool av y'rsilf, Misther Gray-ham," he answered, laughing and taking the matter quite coolly.
"One'd think ye're kilt entoirely, wid all that row ye'r makin'! Ye'll niver be a sailor, Misther Gray-ham, if ye can't stand a bit av fun!" "Fun, you call it?" I rejoined, rather angrily, I must confess, looking down ruefully at my soaking suit. "Why, I'm wet through!" "Niver moind that," replied he, still grinning, as was also Adams.
"Ye spake true," returned the voice. "I knows 'em both, Misther Allan Gray-ham an' Joe Fergusson. I will come aboard an' shave 'em." Then it all flashed upon me, and I tried to run below and hide; but two of Neptune's tritons seized me and pushed me forward to where the boatswain, capitally got up in an oakum wig with an enormous tow beard, was seated on the windlass, trident in hand.
I say no differ, sure, mesilf, Misther Gray-ham, atwane us, that same, as I tould ye."
But, in spite of sundry drawbacks and disagreeables which I subsequently encountered, and which perhaps took off a little of the halo of romance which at first encircled everything connected with the sea in my mind, I have never lost the love and admiration for it which I experienced that night in mid Atlantic when I kept the middle watch with Mr Mackay, nor regretted my choice; neither have I ever felt inclined, I may candidly state, to give an affirmative answer to Tim Rooney's stereotyped inquiry every morning "An' ain't ye sorry now, Misther Gray-ham, as how ye iver came to say?"
There's his ugly yalle'r face now toorned this way foreninst you, Misther Gray-ham. Begorra hee don't look a day oulder, if a troifle uglier since I sayed him last!" "And is he a Chinaman?" I asked, full of curiosity; "a real, live Chinaman from the East?"
"Misther Gray-ham, sorr," said Tim, shoving me more in front as I took off my cap and bowed. "Our new apprentice," explained Mr Mackay from the top of the poop ladder as he caught sight of me. "He came aboard just before we left the docks." "Ah, I thought I didn't see him this morning," observed the captain.
"Begorra, an' I'm proud av that very same, Misther Gray-ham," he retorted, not one whit put out by my words, as I imagined he would be. "If other folks had as little to be ashamed av, it's a blissid worrld sure this'd be, an' we'd be all havin' our wings sproutin' an' sailin' aloft, loike the swate little cheroob, they says, looks arter poor Jack!"
Word Of The Day