Part 11 (1/2)
”Change my mind, Jerry!” exclaimed his Lords.h.i.+p, ”impossible; you know I never change my mind. What! yield up my freedom for a mess of beef and tongue, or even a brace of cold fowl--”
”Not to mention a cold biled 'am, Master Horatio, sir.”
”No, Jerry, not for all the Roman parents, rounds of beef, tyrannical uncles and cold hams in England. Tempt me no more, Jerry; Bo'sun, avaunt, and leave me to melancholy and emptiness.”
”Why then,” said the Bo'sun, removing the glazed hat and extracting therefrom the Captain's meat packages, ”I were to give you this meat, Master Horatio, beef and bread, my Lord.”
”From the Captain, I'll be sworn, eh, Jerry?”
”Ay, ay, my Lord, from his Honor the Cap'n.”
”Now G.o.d bless him for a tender-hearted old martinet, eh, Bo'sun?”
”Which I begs to say, amen, Master Horatio, sir.”
”To be sure there is nothing Roman about my uncle.” Saying which, his Lords.h.i.+p, tearing open the packages, and using his fingers as forks, began to devour the edibles with huge appet.i.te.
”There was a tongue, I think you mentioned, Jerry,” he inquired suddenly.
”Ay, sir, likewise a cold biled 'am.”
His Lords.h.i.+p sighed plaintively.
”And yet,” said he, sandwiching a slice of beef between two pieces of bread with great care and nicety, ”who would be so mean-spirited as to sell that freedom which is the glorious prerogative of man (and which I beg you to notice is a not unpleasing phrase, sir) who, I demand, would surrender this for a base smoked tongue?”
”Not forgetting a fine, cold biled 'am, Master Horatio, my Lord. And now, wi' your permission, I'll stand away for the village, leaving you to talk wi' this here young gentleman and take them vittles aboard, till I bring up alongside again, Cap'n's orders, Master Horatio.” Saying which, the Bo'sun touched the glazed hat, went about, and, squaring his yards, bore away for the village.
”Sir,” said his Lords.h.i.+p, glancing whimsically at Barnabas over his fast-disappearing hunch of bread and meat, ”you have never been--called upon to--sit in the stocks, perhaps?”
”Never--as yet,” answered Barnabas, smiling.
”Why, then, sir, let me inform you the stocks have their virtues.
I'll not deny a chair is more comfortable, and certainly more dignified, but give me the stocks for thought, there's nothing like 'em for profound meditation. The Bible says, I believe, that one should seek the seclusion of one's closet, but, believe me, for deep reverie there's nothing like the stocks. You see, a poor devil has nothing else to do, therefore he meditates.”
”And pray,” inquired Barnabas, ”may I ask what brings you sitting in this place of thought?”
”Three things, sir, namely, matrimony, a horse race, and a father.
Three very serious matters, sir, and the last the gravest of all.
For you must know I am, shall I say--blessed? yes, certainly, blessed in a father who is essentially Roman, being a man of his word, sir. Now a man of his word, more especially a father, may prove a very mixed blessing. Speaking of fathers, generally, sir, you may have noticed that they are the most unreasonable cla.s.s of beings, and delight to arrogate to themselves an authority which is, to say the least, trying; my father especially so--for, as I believe I hinted before, he is so infernally Roman.”
”Indeed,” smiled Barnabas, ”the best of fathers are, after all, only human.”
”Aha!” cried his Lords.h.i.+p, ”there speaks experience. And yet, sir, these human fathers, one and all, believe in what I may term the divine right of fathers to thwart, and bother, and annoy sons old enough to be--ha--”
”To know their own minds,” said Barnabas.
”Precisely,” nodded his Lords.h.i.+p. ”Consequently, my Roman father and I fell out--my honored Roman and I frequently do fall out--but this morning, sir, unfortunately 't was before breakfast.” Here his Lords.h.i.+p s.n.a.t.c.hed a hasty bite of bread and meat with great appet.i.te and gusto, while Barnabas sat, dreamy of eye, staring away across the valley.
”Pray,” said he suddenly, yet with his gaze still far away, ”do you chance to be acquainted with a Sir Mortimer Carnaby?”
”Acquainted,” cried his Lords.h.i.+p, speaking with his mouth full.
”Oh, Gad, sir, every one who _is_ any one is acquainted with Sir Mortimer Carnaby.”