Up The Baltic - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Ole was silent, but permitted the steward to remove at will the long, snarly white locks, which covered his head. The operator had been a barber once, and received extra pay for his services on board the s.h.i.+p in this capacity. He did his work in an artistic manner, parting and combing the waif's hair as though he were dressing him for a fas.h.i.+onable party. He put a sailor's knot in the black handkerchief under the boy's collar, and then placed the blue cap on his head, a little on one side, so that he looked as jaunty as a dandy man-of-war's-man.
"Now put on this jacket, my lad, and you will be all right," continued the steward, as he gazed with pride and pleasure upon the work of his hands.
"More clothes!" exclaimed Ole. "I shall be baked. I sweat now with what I have on."
"It's hot in here; you will be cool enough when you go on deck. Here's a pea-jacket for you, besides the other."
"But that's for winter. I never had so much clothes on before in my life."
"You needn't put the pea-jacket on, if you don't want it. Now you look like a decent man, and you can go on deck and show yourself."
"Thank you, sir."
"But you must wash yourself clean every morning."
"Do it every day!" exclaimed Ole, opening his eyes with astonishment.
"Why, yes, you heathen," laughed Muggs. "A man isn't fit to live who don't keep himself clean. Why, you could have planted potatoes anywhere on your hide, before you went into that tub."
"I haven't been washed before since last summer," added Ole.
"You ought to be hung for it."
"You spend half your time was.h.i.+ng yourselves--don't you?"
"We spend time enough at it to keep clean. No wonder you Norwegians have the leprosy, and the flesh rots off the bones!"
"But I always go into the water every summer," pleaded Ole.
"And don't wash yourself at any other time?"
"I always wash myself once a year, and sometimes more, when I get a good chance."
"Don't you wash your face and hands every morning."
"Every morning? No! I haven't done such a thing since last summer."
"Then you are not fit to live. If you stay in this s.h.i.+p, you must wash every day, and more than that when you do dirty work."
"Can I stay in the s.h.i.+p if I do that?" asked Ole, earnestly.
"I don't know anything about it."
"I will wash all the time if they will only let me stay in the s.h.i.+p,"
pleaded the waif.
"You must talk with the princ.i.p.al on that subject. I have nothing to do with it. Now, go on deck. Hold up your head, and walk like a man."
Ole left the bath-room, and made his way up the forward ladder. The second part of the starboard watch were on duty, but nearly every person belonging to the s.h.i.+p was on deck, watching the distant light, which a.s.sured them they were on the coast of Norway. The waif stepped upon deck as lightly as a mountain sylph. The influence of his new clothes pervaded his mind, and he was inclined to be a little "swellish" in his manner.
"How are you, Norway!" shouted Sanford, one of the crew.
"How are you, America," replied Ole, imitating the slang of the speaker.
"What have you done with your dirt?" added Rodman.
"Here is some of it," answered Muggs, the steward, as he came up the ladder, with Ole's rags on a dust-pan, and threw them overboard.
"If you throw all his dirt overboard here, we shall get aground, sure," added Stockwell, as Ole danced up to the group of students.
"No wonder you feel light after getting rid of such a load of dirt,"
said Sanford.
"O, I'm all right," laughed Ole, good-naturedly; for he did not seem to think that dirt was any disgrace or dishonor to him.
"How came you in that leaky boat, Norway?" demanded Rodman; and the entire party gathered around the waif, anxious to hear the story of his adventure.
"I went into it."
"Is that so?" added Wilde.
"Yes, sir."
"I say, Norway, you are smart," replied Rodman.
"Smart? Where?"
"All over."
"I don't feel it."
"But, Norway, how came you in that old tub, out of sight of land?"
persisted Rodman, returning to the charge again.
"I went into it just the same as one of you Americans would have got into it," laughed Ole, who did not think it necessary to resort to the tactics he had used with the princ.i.p.al and the captain. "You could have done it if you had tried as hard as I did."
"After you got in, then, how came the boat out here, so far from land?"
"The wind, the tide, and the broken oar brought it out here."
"Indeed! But won't you tell us your story, Ole?"
"A story? O, yes. Once there was a king of Norway whose name was Olaf, and half the men of his country were named after him, because--"
"Never mind that story, Ole. We want to hear the story about yourself."
"About myself? Well, last year things didn't go very well with me; the crop of potatoes was rather short on my farm, and my vessels caught but few fish; so I decided to make a voyage up the Mediterranean, to spend the winter."
"What did you go in, Norway?" asked Wilde.