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Updated: May 22, 2025
One evening, when work was over, we found him walking the forecastle, taking what he called his sunset food shaker, in a more than usually thoughtful mood. As Grey, Spellman, and I, with one or two others, went up to him, he heaved a sigh, which sounded not altogether unlike the roar of a young bull. "What is the matter, Mr Johnson?" I asked, approaching him. "You seem melancholy to-day."
We were not recognised when we were hauled into the boat, and might not have been had I not said "What, Spellman, don't you know me?" "You, Merry," he exclaimed, looking at me with an astonished gaze. "What business have you here? Why we left you drowning up Channel somewhere hours ago." "Thank you, but we have taken a cruise since then," said I.
You shall have his allowance to-morrow if you are not better." Spellman having betrayed himself, had not only to drink the mixture which was made as nasty as could be, though probably perfectly harmless, but to get up and be ready to make himself useful if required. My neck was rather stiff, but the pain was so slight that I felt almost able to return to my duty.
"Did you ever see a polar bear, Mr Spellman?" demanded the boatswain in an offended tone. "Yes," answered Spellman, "once, at a show." "Then let me ask, young gentleman, why you should have any doubts as to the truth of my narrative?" said Mr Johnson, drawing himself up and casting an indignant glance at the midshipman.
"I should think so," said I. "I hear Macquoid's voice; here he comes." I uttered a few groans, which Spellman repeated with considerably more vigour. I let him go on, while I sat up with a pleased countenance to welcome the assistant-surgeon, who appeared with a big bottle containing some black-looking stuff, and a glass. Spellman went on groaning.
Spellman, and the rest who had been listening out side, on this, beat a retreat, suspecting, probably, that the boatswain had been laughing at them. Our watch was called, and Grey and I had to go on deck. I had by this time picked up a large amount of miscellaneous nautical knowledge, so had Toby in his way. As to going aloft, or in feats of activity, few of the other midshipmen could beat me.
Mr Spellman, midshipman of his Britannic Majesty's frigate Doris Mr, Mrs, and the Miss and Master Merrys and their faithful domestics do you think that those deep dimples are natural? No indeed; a shot went through his cheeks right through and those are the scars. See how Grey limps I forgot, I ought to have introduced him.
Then, from one of the foremost rider's mounts, came the shrill neigh of a horse in pain, and the thudding of the animal's hoofs as it shied violently, for it had collided with the barbed wire fence. This was Mart's first intimation that there was a fence, but he had no time to think that he had been matched in cleverness by Donald Spellman, for things began to happen.
"I wonder you survived all your misfortunes, Mr Johnson," observed Spellman, who, next to Gogles and Toby Bluff, seemed to place the most perfect belief in the boatswain's veracious narratives, as he was pleased to designate his amusing inventions. "Why, do you see, Mr Spellman, I'm tough very tough!" he answered, with a hoarse laugh.
Teddy Karns "poured the rye," and Faro Sam "slipped the cards," whilst Babe worried over Bouncing Bet's intoxicated condition. "It's Allie, you know," Babe confided to Red Shirt Pete at midnight. "She took it awful hard, and Spellman, the new boss, wouldn't let 'er off tonight. I bin tellin' 'er Allie's better off, but she won't listen to nobody.
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