Part 18 (1/2)

RUBY HAS A RISE IN LIFE, AND A FALL.

James Dove, the blacksmith, had, for some time past, been watching the advancing of the beacon-works with some interest, and a good deal of impatience. He was tired of working so constantly up to the knees in water, and aspired to a drier and more elevated workshop.

One morning he was told by the foreman that orders had been given for him to remove his forge to the beacon, and this removal, this ”flitting”, as he called it, was the first of the memorable events referred to in the last chapter.

”Hallo! Ruby, my boy,” cried the elated son of Vulcan, as he descended the companion ladder, ”we're goin' to flit, lad. We're about to rise in the world, so get up your bellows. It's the last time we shall have to be bothered with them in the boat, I hope.”

”That's well,” said Ruby, shouldering the unwieldy bellows; ”they have worn my shoulders threadbare, and tried my patience almost beyond endurance.”

”Well, it's all over now, lad,” rejoined the smith. ”In future you shall have to blow up in the beacon yonder; so come along.”

”Come, Ruby, that ought to comfort the c.o.c.kles o' yer heart,” said O'Connor, who pa.s.sed up the ladder as he spoke; ”the smith won't need to blow you up any more, av you're to blow yourself up in the beacon in futur'. Arrah! there's the bell again. Sorrow wan o' me iver gits to slape, but I'm turned up immadiately to go an' poke away at that rock-- faix, it's well named the Bell Rock, for it makes me like to _bell_ow me lungs out wid vexation.”

”That pun is _bel_ow contempt,” said Joe Dumsby, who came up at the moment.

”That's yer sort, laddies; ye're guid at ringing the changes on that head onyway,” cried Watt.

”I say, we're gittin' a _bell_y-full of it,” observed Forsyth, with a rueful look. ”I hope n.o.body's goin' to give us another!”

”It'll create a re_bell_ion,” said Bremner, ”if ye go on like that.”

”It'll bring my _bell_ows down on the head o' the next man that speaks!”

cried Ruby, with indignation.

”Don't you hear the bell, there?” cried the foreman down the hatchway.

There was a burst of laughter at this unconscious continuation of the joke, and the men sprang up the ladder,--down the side, and into the boats, which were soon racing towards the rock.

The day, though not sunny, was calm and agreeable, nevertheless the landing at the rock was not easily accomplished, owing to the swell caused by a recent gale. After one or two narrow escapes of a ducking, however, the crews landed, and the bellows, instead of being conveyed to their usual place at the forge, were laid at the foot of the beacon.

The carriage of these bellows to and fro almost daily had been a subject of great annoyance to the men, owing to their being so much in the way, and so unmanageably bulky, yet so essential to the progress of the works, that they did not dare to leave them on the rock, lest they should be washed away, and they had to handle them tenderly, lest they should get damaged.

”Now, boys, lend a hand with the forge,” cried the smith, hurrying towards his anvil.

Those who were not busy eating dulse responded to the call, and in a short time the ponderous _materiel_ of the smithy was conveyed to the beacon, where, in process of time, it was hoisted by means of tackle to its place on the platform to which reference has already been made.

When it was safely set up and the bellows placed in position, Ruby went to the edge of the platform, and, looking down on his comrades below, took off his cap and shouted in the tone of a Stentor, ”Now, lads, three cheers for the Dovecot!”

This was received with a roar of laughter and three tremendous cheers.

”Howld on, boys,” cried O'Connor, stretching out his hand as if to command silence; ”you'll scare the dove from his cot altogether av ye roar like that!”

”Surely they're sendin' us a fire to warm us,” observed one of the men, pointing to a boat which had put off from the _Smeaton_, and was approaching the rock by way of _Macurich's Track_.

”What can'd be, I wonder?” said Watt; ”I think I can smell somethin'.”

”I halways thought you 'ad somethink of an old dog in you,” said Dumsby.

”Ay, man!” said the Scot with a leer, ”I ken o' war beasts than auld dowgs.”