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Maty, who did you so much good in your last illness, when the great medicinal Mattadores did you rather harm. I have found a Monsieur Diafoirus here, Dr. Moisy, who has really done me a great deal of good; and I am sure I wanted it a great deal when I came here first. I have recovered some strength, and a little more will give me as much as I can make use of.
As for Jack, he maintained his post in silence, sitting with his arms crossed, and the hands thrust into the breast of his jacket, sailor fashion, a picture of nautical vigilance. It was some time after Rose had fallen asleep, that this singular being spoke for the first time. "Keep her away a bit, maty," he said, "keep her away, half a point or so.
'T is possible he believes the boat has got adrift by accident, and has no thought of our bein' out of the brig." "That is impossible, Jack. Do you suppose he is ignorant that Rose is missing?" "Sartain of it, maty, if Mrs. Budd has read the letter well that Miss Rose left for her, and Biddy has obeyed orders.
"Harry has made no such wicked boast," put in Rose, mildly; "nor do we know that he has not prayed for us, as well as for himself. It may all be a mistake of Jack's, you know." "Yes," added Jack, coolly, "it may be a mistake, a'ter all, for I was lookin' at the maty six miles off, and through a spy-glass. No one can be sure of anything at such a distance.
I should be glad to leave as handy a little fellow as yourself behind me whenever I went to sea. There are a hundred things in which you might be useful, and fully earn your biscuit, so as to have no qualms about eating the bread of idleness." "Thank'e, thank'e, maty," cried Jack, dashing a tear out of his eye with the back of his hand, "thank'e, sir, from the bottom of my heart.
"I wish an explanation with you, Jack, on one other point," said the mate, after all three had been for sometime observing the movements on board and around the Swash. "Do you actually intend to get on board the brig?" "If it's to be done, maty. My v'y'ge is up with you and Miss Rose. I may be said to have shipped for Key West and a market, and the market's found at this port."
Evidently, she has apartments to let in that repository. In any case, it is well that she should find so much to entertain her and feel so bright and happy. This state of things will only change too soon. FIDDLESTICKS. Your verses have been written without due knowledge of metrical composition. MATY GERTY. We are glad to hear that you have rosy cheeks.
Pip! little Pip! hurrah with your tambourine! Don't know where it is. Beat thy belly, then, and wag thy ears. Jig it, men, I say; merry's the word; hurrah! Damn me, won't you dance? Form, now, Indian-file, and gallop into the double-shuffle? Throw yourselves! Legs! legs! I don't like your floor, maty; it's too springy to my taste. I'm used to ice-floors.
The consciousness of his own strength, and the assurance of my aid, emboldened him to imitate the example of Dr. Maty, whose Journal Britannique was esteemed and regretted; and to improve his model, by uniting with the transactions of literature a philosophic view of the arts and manners of the British nation.
I say, maty, how should you like to be shoved ashore there, eh? I little thought, as I shuddered at the question, that in the space of a few weeks I should actually be a captive in that self-same valley.
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