The Old Tobacco Shop Part 14

"Everything's settled," said he. "Some of them are going below with their dippers, and the rest of them are to look after handling the s.h.i.+p.

The navigation is left to me. We'll get along fine now, provided the leaks don't get any worse."

Freddie wandered off by himself, to inspect the s.h.i.+p. He could walk very well now, in spite of the roll of the s.h.i.+p, and he went everywhere. He found himself finally on the after deck, leaning over the rail and watching the wake of the s.h.i.+p boiling away so white and beautiful behind. He was more and more delighted with this strange adventure. It was too bad that Mr. Toby had forgotten to write the note to his mother, but it couldn't be helped now, and they would sometime find a place somewhere or other where they could post a letter. It was so entrancing to be actually at sea on a s.h.i.+p, with the deck rising and falling, and the wake boiling away behind, and land nowhere in sight, that it would seem a pity ever to arrive at the Spanish Main; but the thought of adventures there--! However, he was in no hurry to have the voyage over.

Aunt Amanda was sitting somewhere with a pile of sailors' socks in her lap, perfectly contented. Mr. Hanlon was swinging his feet away up yonder from the topmost yard of the second mast. The Churchwarden, Mr.

Punch, Toby, and the Sly Old Fox were engaged in an earnest discussion in chairs beside the deck-house. The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg was speaking confidentially in the ear of the twenty-first mate, in an effort to borrow a pipeful of tobacco.

Suddenly Freddie heard behind him the loud harsh laughter of Marmaduke the parrot. Turning round, he saw the parrot perched on the s.h.i.+p's rail, and before him was the Cabin-boy, shaking his finger in the parrot's face, and storming away at him angrily. Freddie immediately went over to them.

"I w-w-w-won't s-s-s-s-stand it no l-l-l-l-longer!" the Cabin-boy was bawling, his face nearly as red as his hair. "I w-w-w-won't! W-w-w-what do you m-m-m-mean by m-m-m-mocking me all the t-t-t-ime?"

"Who? M-m-m-m-m-me?" said the parrot.

"Y-y-y-yaas, y-y-y-you!" cried the Cabin-boy. "Just because I s-s-s-s-s-stutter, do you--do you--do you have to--have to--s-s-s-s-stut-stutter too?"

"M-m-m-m-me? You're entirely m-m-m-m-mistaken. You're the one that s-s-s-stut-s-s-s-stutters."

"Ain't you always s-s-saying--saying--ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-steak, b-b-b-b-bacon and eggs? Ain't you? You've got to k-k-k-k-quit--r-r-right _now_, d'you _hear_? I w-w-w-won't s-s-s-stand it no l-l-l-l-longer, and you b-b-b-better b-b-b-believe it!"

"Highty-tighty! Sixty, ninety! Uncle Sam! Pop pop! Th-th-there's ch-ch-chops, s-s-s-steak, b-b-b-bacon and eggs! Th-th-three ch-ch-cheers for l-l-l-liver and onions!"

The poor Cabin-boy burst out crying.

"All ri-i-i-ight," he sobbed, stamping his foot. "All ri-i-i-ight. I c-c-can't help it--if--I do s-s-stutter. But there ain't no p-p-p-p-parrot going to m-m-m-m-mock me, M-m-m-m-mizzen nor no M-m-m-m-mizzen. I'll wring--your--bla-a-a-asted--neck first, you ornery--l-l-l-little--varmint, you s-s-s-see if I--see if I--d-d-d-don't!"

"Marmaduke's my name!" shrieked the parrot. "Please to note the same!

Pop, pop, pop! I'll have l-l-l-liver and onions, l-l-l-l-liver and onions, l-l-l-l-liver and onions, pop, pop, pop!"

The Cabin-boy, shaking with sobs, raised his hand threateningly.

"D-d-d-d-don't you d-d-d-dare t-t-t-to--Ker-_choo_!" He sneezed, and out came his handkerchief.

"Ker-_choo_!" sneezed the parrot, and rubbed his beak with his foot.

This was the last straw. The Cabin-boy reached for Marmaduke's neck, and would surely have choked him then and there, if Freddie had not caught his arm and pulled him away.

The Cabin-boy allowed himself to be led off, and Freddie drew him along towards the companion-way.

"Come along down to my room," said Freddie.

"All r-r-right," said the Cabin-boy, wiping his eyes and sniffling.

"I'll c-c-c-come, b-b-b-but there's going to be trouble--trouble--on this sh-sh-sh-s.h.i.+p along o' that p-p-p-parrot before this--before this v-v-v-voyage--is over, you m-m-m-mark m-m-m-m-my w-w-w-w-words!"

CHAPTER XIII

THE CABIN-BOY'S REVENGE

It was a soft moonlight night in southern seas. Our party of adventurers, with Mr. Mizzen in their midst, were sitting quietly on the after part of the deck, enjoying the balmy air and watching the bright track which the full moon made on the water. The sea was very calm.

There was only a light breeze, and The Sieve was hardly moving.

Mr. Mizzen was scratching the head of Marmaduke the parrot, who was perched on the Able Seaman's wrist. From the forward part of the deck, where the skippers and mates were sitting in a party of their own, could be heard the tinkle of a guitar and the sound of a voice singing.

"One always enjoys," said Mr. Punch, "a bit of singing by moonlight on the water. Hi remember when I was a lad--"

"Why don't you sing for us yourself?" said Toby.

"Oh, do!" cried several of the others.

Mr. Punch looked down at the deck bashfully. "Hi should be wery glad to oblige," said he, "but I 'ave a slight cold, and besides, Hi only know one song."

"What is the name of it?" said Aunt Amanda.

"Kathleen Mavourneen," said Mr. Punch.

"That's a very good song," said Aunt Amanda. "Sing it."

"Wait a minute," said Mr. Mizzen, "and I'll get the guitar. I can play it."

While he was gone, and while the others were talking, Freddie felt a hand on his arm, and looking down saw the Cabin-boy sitting on the deck beside his chair, and winking up at him with a strange excited look on his face. The Cabin-boy pulled Freddie's head down, and whispered in his ear.

"S-s-s-s.h.!.+ K-k-keep your eyes o-o-ope-open! Something's going to happen to-to-tonight! You'll see! Down with M-m-mizzen and M-m-marmaduke!"

Freddie gazed at the Cabin-boy in some alarm, and was about to ask a question, when Mr. Mizzen returned with the guitar.

"Now we're ready," said he, taking his seat and putting Marmaduke on the rail of the s.h.i.+p. "Here's the chord. All right, Mr. Punch."

"Hi really 'ave such a cold--" said Mr. Punch.

"That's understood," said Toby. "Now then, strike up."

Mr. Punch cleared his throat very loud, and coughed once or twice, and began to sing:

"Kathleen Mavourneen, the gr'y dorn is bryking, The 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill."

"Ha! ha! ha! ha!" roared Toby. "The 'orn of the 'unter! Blamed if I ever hear the like of that before! My stars! What's the matter, Mr. Punch, can't you put in a little 'h' now and then? The 'orn of the 'unter! Oh my stars! Ha! ha! ha! ha!"

Mr. Punch was deeply offended. "Hit is quite sufficient," said he. "Hi shall sing no more." And nothing that anybody could say could induce him to go on.

"Toby Littleback," said Aunt Amanda, "it's just like you, all over. Now you ask Mr. Punch's pardon, right this minute."

Toby apologized, and Mr. Punch said that it was of no consequence whatever; but he would not sing.

"Then I guess you'll have to sing for us yourself, Mizzen," said Toby.