Golden Stories Part 16
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IX
A FO'C'S'LE TRAGEDY
An Ancient Mariner's Yarn
By PERCY LONGHURST
"YEH may gas about torpedoes an' 'fernal machines an' such like, but yeh can't learn me nothin'; onct I had t' do wi' suthin' o' th' sort that turned th' heads o' a dozen men from black ter white in 'bout ten minutes," and the ancient mariner looked at me with careful impressiveness.
"Bad, eh?" I inquired.
"Sh'd think it was--for them poor chaps."
"Didn't turn your hair white, Uncle?"
"Gue-e-ss not," and the ancient mariner had a fit of chuckling that nearly choked him.
When he recovered he told me the yarn. I had heard several of old Steve's yarns, and I considered that his fine talents were miserably wasted; he ought to have been a politician or a real estate agent. This yarn, however, might very well have been true.
"It was 'bout nineteen years ago," Steve commenced, "an' I'd jest taken up a job as cook on the _Here at Last_, a blamed old Noah's Ark of a wind-jammer from New York to Jamaica. She did th' trip in 'bout th' same time as yeh'd walk it. She was a beauty--an' th' crew 'bout fitted her.
Where th' old man had gathered 'em from th' Lord on'y knows; but they was th' most difficult lot I've ever sailed with, which is sayin' a deal consid'rin' that, man an' boy, I've been a sailor for forty years. They was as contrairy as women, an' as stoopid as donkeys. I couldn't do nothin' right for 'em. They complained of the coffee, grumbled at th'
biscuit, an' swore terrible at th' meat. But most of all they swore at me."
"'It all lies in th' cookin',' an old one-eyed chap, named Barton, used ter say. 'Any cook that is worth his salt can do wonders wi' th' worst vittles'; an' he told me how he'd once sailed with a cook as c'd make a stewed cat taste better'n a rabbit. An', durn me, when I went ash.o.r.e next, an' at great risk managed to lay holt of a big tom and cooked it for em, hopin' to please 'em, an' went inter th' fo'c's'le arter dinner an' told 'em what I'd done, ef that self-same chap, Barton, didn't hit me over th' head wi' his tin can for tryin' ter poison 'em, as he said.
They complained to th' old man, too, which was worse; for when we got t'
th' next port my leave ash.o.r.e was stopped, an' all for tryin' to please 'em. Rank ingrat.i.tood, I call it.
"Another time I tried to give the junk--it really was bad, but as I hadn't bought th' stores, that wasn't no fault o' mine--a bit of a more pleasant flavor by bilin' with it a packet o' spice I found in th'
skipper's cabin. One o' th' sailors comes into my galley in a towerin'
rage arter dinner.
"'Yer blamed rascal,' he said, an' there was suthin' like murder in his starin' eyes. 'Yeh blamed rascal, whatcher been doin' ter our grub now?'
"'What's th' trouble, Joe?' I asks quietly.
"'Trouble, yeh skunk,' he howls; 'our throats is hot as h.e.l.l, all th'
skin's comin' off 'em; Bill Tomson's got his lips that blistered he can't hold his pipe between 'em. What yeh been doin?'
"'Hold hard a jiffy,' I said, an' looks at what was left o' th' spice I'd used. I nearly had a fit.
"'Go 'way,' I says, pullin' myself together; ''t ain't nuthin'.'
"An' it wasn't nuthin'; but there was such an almighty run on th' water barrel that arternoon th' old man was beginnin' ter think a teetotal revival had struck th' _Here at Last_. But though cayenne pepper drives a chap ter water pretty often while th' effect lasts, it don't have no permanent result, as th' old man found out. Course it was a mistake o'
mine; but ain't we all liable to go a bit astray?
"I'm jest givin' yeh these few examples t' show yeh that things wasn't altogether O.K. 'tween me an' the crew. They was always swearin' at me, an' callin' of me names, an' heavin' things at me head, because I'd done or hadn't done suthin' or other. An angel from heaven wouldn't have pleased 'em; an' as I never held much stock in the angelic trust yeh kin easily understand we was most times very much at sixes an' sevens.
"One evenin' I was sittin' in th' fo'c's'le patiently listenin' ter th'
horrible language in which they reproached me because one o' 'em had managed t' break a front tooth in biting a bit o' th' salt pork they'd had for dinner, which was certainly no fault o' mine, when one of 'em, an English chap he was, an' the worst grumbler of all, suddenly cries:
"'Jeerusalem, wouldn't I give somethin' fer a drop of beer just now.
Strike me pink if I ain't a'most forgotten what the taste o' it's like.'
"'Me, too,' said Harry Towers, the carpenter. 'A schooner o' lager an'
ale! Sakes! Wouldn't it jest sizzle down a day like this?'
"'My aunt! I'd give a month's pay f'r a quart,' the surly Britisher says fiercely.
"'A quart, why don't yeh ask for a barrel while yeh're about it; then I'd help yeh drink it,' I says.
"'Yer, yer blighted, peris.h.i.+n' idiot,' he shouts--it was him that'd broken his tooth. 'What, waste good beer on yer that's fit fer nothin'
but cuttin' up into shark bait!'
"'That ain't th' way t' talk to a man as is always ready an' willin' t'
help yeh,' I says reproachfully.
"The chap glares at me like a tiger with the colic. His language was awful. 'Lord 'elp us,' he finishes up with, 'why, yer've done nuthin'
but try ter pizen us ever since we come aboard. Ain't I right, mates?'
"'Righto,' they choruses; an' I begin t' think they'd soon be gittin' up to mischief.
"'P'raps I might help yeh t' git some beer if yer was more respectful,'
I says hurriedly.
"'Beer!' they all yells, an' looks up at me all to onct as if I was a dime museum freak.
"'Yes, beer,' I says quietly.
"'An' where'd you be gittin' it from?' asks one.
"'Never yeh mind that,' I answers. 'I've a dozen or two bottles of English stout I brought aboard, an' since yeh're so anxious to taste a drop o' beer, I don't mind lettin' yeh have some--at a price, o'
course.'
"'What's the figure?' Towers inquires suspiciously. He was a Michigan man.
"'A dollar th' bottle.'
"'What!' shouts th' man as was ready t' give a month's pay fer a quart.
'A dollar th' bottle! Why, yer miserable old skinflint!'
"'A dollar th' bottle. That's the terms, take 'em or leave 'em,' says I, very firmly.
"They talked a lot, and they swore a lot more, but finally seem' as I wasn't t' be moved, and that they couldn't get the beer except at my price, the hull ten of 'em agreed to have a bottle apiece.
Golden Stories Part 16
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Golden Stories Part 16 summary
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