United States or Anguilla ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
In a short time, however, the sea went back and left the rails free. Soon after that Ruby was joined by Forsyth and Dumsby, who had come down for their morning promenade. They had not walked more than a few minutes when they were joined by Jamie Dove, who announced breakfast, and proceeded to take two or three turns by way of cooling himself.
Had it occurred during the height of the gale, the result might have been most disastrous to the undertaking at the Bell Rock. Having made all fast, an attempt was made to kindle the galley fire and cook some food. "Wot are we to 'ave, steward?" enquired Joe Dumsby, in a feeble voice.
James Dove stopped short abruptly. It is not necessary to explain the cause of his abrupt silence. Suffice it to say that he did not thereafter attempt to finish that sentence. "Steward!" roared Joe Dumsby. "Ay, ay, shipmate, what's up?" cried the steward, who chanced to pass the door of the men's sleeping-place, with a large dish of boiled salt pork, at the moment. "Wot's up?" echoed Dumsby.
After he had concluded his narrative, which was interrupted by frequent question and comment, and after he had refreshed himself with a cup of tea, he rose and said "Now, boys, it's not fair to be spending all the night with you here, while my old comrade Forsyth sits up yonder all alone. I'll go up and see him for a little." "We'll go hup with 'ee, lad," said Dumsby.
D'ye mind the first we ever felt o' that sort, Forsyth? It happened last month. I was on watch at the time, Forsyth was smokin' his pipe in the kitchen, and Dumsby was in bed, when a sea struck us with such force that I thought we was done for.
"Have it out, man, at once." "Ram a red-hot skewer into it." "No, no; let it alone, and it'll go away." Such was the advice tendered, and much more of a similar nature, to the suffering man. "There's nothink like 'ot water an' cold," said Joe Dumsby in the tones of an oracle. "Just fill your mouth with bilin' 'ot Water, an' dip your face in a basin o' cold, and it's sartain to cure."
"Wot a hobject!" exclaimed Joe Dumsby, a short, thickset, little Englishman, who, having been born and partly bred in London, was rather addicted to what is styled chaffing. "Was you arter a mermaid, shipmate?"
"Could you come Beet'oven's symphony on B flat?" "Ah! howld yer tongue, Joe," cried O'Connor, "sure the young man can only sing on the sharp kays; ain't he always sharpin' the tools, not to speak of his appetite?" "You've a blunt way of speaking yourself, friend," said Dumsby, in a tone of reproof.
"I don't bet such large sums usually, but I'll try," said Ruby, going out. He tried and failed. Just as the five minutes were expiring, however, the owl happened to alight before his nose, so he "nabbed" it, and carried it in triumphantly. "That ain't a bird," said Dumsby. "It's not a fish," retorted Ruby; "but how is it that you caught them so easily, and I found it so difficult?"
"You must know, boys " "'Ere, light your pipe, my 'earty," said Dumsby. "Hold yer tongue, an' don't interrupt him," cried one of the men, flattening Dumsby's cap over his eyes. "And don't drop yer haitches," observed another, "'cause if ye do they'll fall into the sea an' be drownded, an' then ye'll have none left to put into their wrong places when ye wants 'em." "Come, Bremner, go on."
Word Of The Day