Part 14 (2/2)

Mick scratched his head in father's way, puzzled to explain his keenness of vision.

”Faith, sor,” he said at length, ”it moost 'a bin tryin' to say if I could say any thin' good turn up afore I jined the sarvice, sure; whin me fayther wor a blissid Oitalian organ-grinder an' none of us had nothin' to ate, bedad!”

”By jingo!” exclaimed Mr Gadgett, smiling for once, for I never previously saw the slightest change of muscle on his thin, weather- beaten, grey-whiskered face, ”you'll do!”

Before we came back again from this cruise, we had a bout of bad weather while knocking about in the Channel, which brought back to my mind the yarn Larrikins told the first evening I pa.s.sed on board the _Saint Vincent_, in order to distract my attention while he was rigging up my hammock so that it would come down by the run--of seas that were 'mountings 'igh,' and winds that blew the ''air off 'is 'ead!'

I took at the time, it may be recollected, Master Larrikins' tale with a very good pinch of the proverbial salt, believing he only intended to 'pull my leg'; but when on the present occasion the brig began to labour heavily and the green seas, rolling over from the open sea beyond Ushant, the wind having come on to blow a regular stiff sou'-wester, topped our bulwarks and made a clean sweep of the deck, I thought possibly the old joker Larrikins, who had left the training-s.h.i.+p long ere this and was serving as an ordinary seaman on a foreign station, might not have been 'stretching' to such an extent as I had at the time imagined.

The little brig, however, was a staunch sea boat, having braved much worse weather than we now experienced; and, being well handled by our commander, who was a sailor every inch of him, we ran before the gale round the easternmost end of the Isle of Wight and snugly brought up under the lee of Saint Helens, where we dropped both our anchors, remaining in this sheltered roadstead until the weather broke, when we returned to Portsmouth.

So far, everything had gone well with me since I entered on board the _Saint Vincent_, for I had never got into any trouble beyond a slight sc.r.a.pe or two; but tow the Fates, as if to condone the previous good fortune with which they had favoured me, all at once did me a very bad turn, getting me into sad disgrace.

Serious as the matter was, no doubt, in the eyes of the authorities, it was not, however, such a very terrible crime in itself, though it got me into the bad books of the captain, who had been so friendly disposed towards me that he often used to let me take his dog 'Gyp' for a walk when I went ash.o.r.e.

The fact was, to confess my sin outright, I committed a breach of one of the strictest regulations of the training service.

I was caught smoking.

But, I had better tell you all about it from the first to the last, and then, you'll be able to judge for yourself of the heinousness of my offence.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

I GET INTO DISGRACE.

After that first cruise of mine in the little _Martin_, I was at home one Sat.u.r.day afternoon, having had permission from the captain--being what they call 'a local boy,' my parents residing in Portsmouth--to remain ash.o.r.e till Sunday evening at sunset. It was now summer-time, and I was sitting in our back garden, which was more extensive than might have been expected from the surroundings of Bonfire Corner, the house, as I have said, being an old-fas.h.i.+oned one and father having bought the freehold for a mere song in the days when property in Portsea did not fetch such a high price as at present. The pink and white blossoms of the apple-trees, of which we had a tidy number round the garden, had dropped off long ere now and the fruit was beginning to form; but there were plenty of roses still out, and all sorts of old- fas.h.i.+oned flowers, filling the air with fragrance.

I was enjoying myself to rights under the shade of an ancient mulberry- tree, which must have been planted in the time of Queen Elizabeth I should think, judging by its gnarled trunk and huge twisted branches.

Some of these hung rather low, and Jenny had brought out Jack our thrush and suspended his cage along with those of our piping bullfinch and some of the canaries, just above a rustic table, having an old armchair that had seen its better days, in front of it, which was father's favourite seat when at home and the weather was not too bad to go out of doors.

Here was his pipe and tobacco-jar, just as he left them in the morning, it being his habit to take a whiff there after breakfast prior to shouldering his oars, which he always brought back to the cottage of a night for safety's sake, and starting off to his wherry for the day.

I felt rather lonesome, for Mick had not been able to get leave to come ash.o.r.e with me, and Jenny was too busy helping mother house-cleaning to spare much time for a chat after the first greetings had pa.s.sed on my arriving at the house; so, looking at father's pipe and tobacco-jar, the thought came into my head--probably suggested by that wily old Serpent, who, the parson says, is always on the watch to put evil thoughts into empty minds--”Why shouldn't I learn to smoke?”

I don't think I would have carried this thought into action had it not been for 'Ally Sloper,' our c.o.c.katoo, who just then came hopping down the garden-path from the scullery, where he had been having a rare carrying-on with the cat, the rum bird as soon as he caught sight of me flying up on the table and catching hold of the end of father's favourite churchwarden with his claw.

”Say-rah!” he shouted out in the very tones of father's voice, so that I could almost fancy he were there sitting alongside of me. ”Blest if I don't have a pipe!”

That settled the matter.

The next moment I had taken the pipe from 'Ally Sloper's' reluctant claw; and, filling it carefully, poking down the tobacco with the end of my finger just as father used to do, I struck a match and started smoking.

I can't say I absolutely liked it at first, the strong narcotic, bitter taste of the tobacco, combined with the smell, making me feel rather giddy; while a gulp of smoke which went the wrong way caused me to cough.

But, I stuck at it all the same, feeling that now at last I was on the highroad to being a man, just like those able-bodied seamen belonging to our s.h.i.+p who used to enjoy 'blowing their cloud,' as they called it, of an evening on board the _Saint Vincent_ when work was done for the day.

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