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Updated: June 11, 2025
"Who's been driven to desperation?" asked Susannah. "Why, Nandy," answered Aunt Barbree, tears brimming her eyes. "Who elst?" "Piggywig's tail!" said Susannah. "What new yarn has the cheeld been tellin'?" "He's my own nephew, and a Furnace upon his mother's side," said Aunt Barbree; "and I'll trouble you to speak more respectful of your employer's kin.
Nandy rubbed his eyes, studied the visitors that is, as well as he could at fifty yards' distance and chuckled. He knew that his aunt was a respectable woman, and particular about the folks she admitted to her gardens. But it was too late to interfere even if he'd wanted to interfere, which he didn't. So he watched the visitors draw to land and disembark; and sat and waited, still chuckling.
The soldier nodded as he flung the tunic down on the beach and Nandy took note of the figures 32 in brass on the collar. "It's all along of a woman," said he. "Ah!" said Nandy, sympathetic. "There's lots of us in the world taken that way."
'Come up-stairs, Nandy; you know the way; why don't you come up-stairs? He went the length, on this occasion, of giving him his hand and saying, 'How are you, Nandy? Are you pretty well? To which that vocalist returned, 'I thank you, honoured sir, I am all the better for seeing your honour. As they went along the yard, the Father of the Marshalsea presented him to a Collegian of recent date.
I stood godfather to him, and he grew up to be afflicted in much the same manner." "I've been unwell," said Nandy, "and I haven't got over the effects of it." "No, by George, you haven't," agreed Mr. Jope. "I've heard tar-water recommended."
"All right," said Nandy; "only make haste about it; for 'tis cold standin' here in the water." To tell the truth a rare notion had crept into his head. This scarlet uniform for scarlet it was, with white and yellow facings had come as a godsend. He would walk home in it, and if it didn't frighten twenty shillings out of Aunt Barbree he must have lost the knack of lying.
"If you try to interfere, young man, I'll wring your neck; and if you cry out, I carry a pistol upon me " and sure enough he pulled a pistol from his pocket and laid it on the stones between his feet. "I'm a desperate man," he said. "Hullo!" said Nandy, beginning to understand. "Desertin', eh?"
"But I was takin' a bath, miss for my skin's sake, as advised by you and a sojer came and took my clothes by main force," here Nandy sobbed aloud "I I think, miss, he must ha' meant to desert!" "Hey!" One of the officers took him again by the collar. "What's that you're saying? A deserter . . . left you these clothes and bolted? . . . Oh, stop your whining and answer! When? Where?"
Here's to thee, good apple-tree Pockets full, hats full, great bushel-bags full! Amen, an' vire off the gun! Whereupon Nandy, always after a caution to be extry-careful, would shut his eyes, pull the trigger of his blunderbuss, and wake all the echoes of the creek in an uproar which, as Susannah never failed to remark, was fit to frighten every war-ship down in Hamoaze.
On the slope above the cherry-orchards, if you moor your boat at the tumble-down quay and climb by half-obliterated pathways, you will come to a hedge of brambles, and to a broken gate with a well beside it; and beyond the gate to an orchard of apple-trees, planted in times when, regularly as Christmas Eve came round, Aunt Barbree Furnace, her maid Susannah, and the boy Nandy, would mount by this same path with a bowl of cider, and anoint the stems one by one, reciting
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