The Lost Middy Part 3

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"Ay," growled the sailor. "I don't want to say anything unneighbourly, but it seems a pity that some on 'em don't get swep' up by the next press-gang as lands. A few years aboard a man-o'-war'd be the best physic for some o' them. Look at all this here rubbidge about! I see 'em. Got it ready to fling at the young gent. I know their games."

"Nay, nay," said the big fisherman, as a low, angry murmur arose, and ignoring the allusion to the fish _debris_ lying about, "we don't want no press-gangs meddling here."

"Yes, you do," said the sailor, angrily, as he applied a blue cotton neckerchief he had s.n.a.t.c.hed off and shaken out, alternately to a cut on Aleck's forehead and to his swollen nose, which was bleeding freely.

"Nice game this, arn't it? I know what I'm saying. I was pressed myself when I was twenty, and sarved seven year afore I come home with a pension. It made a man o' me, and never did me no harm."

There was a hoa.r.s.e roar of laughter at this, several of the fishermen stamping about in their mirth, making the sailor cease his ministrations and stand staring, and beginning to mop his hot forehead with the neckerchief.

"What are yer grinning at?" he said, angrily, with the result that the laughter grew louder.

"Have I smudged my face with this here hankychy, Master Aleck?" said the sailor, turning to the boy, who could not now refrain from smiling in turn.

But Aleck was saved the necessity of replying to the question by the big fisherman, who spoke out in a grimly good-humoured way, as he cast his eyes up and down the dwarfed man-o'-war's man:

"Lookye here, Tom, mate," he said, good-humouredly, "I don't know so much about never doing you no harm, old chap."

"What d'yer mean?" growled the sailor.

"What about yer legs, mate?" cried another of the men.

The sailor stared round at the group, and then a change came over him, and he bent down and gave his hip a sounding slap.

"I'm blest!" he cried, with the angry looks giving place to a broad smile. "I'm blest! I never thought about my legs!"

There was another roar of laughter now, in which Tom Bodger joined.

"But lookye here, messmates, what's a leg or two? Gone in the sarvice o' the King and country, I says. Here am I, two-and-thirty, with ninepence a day as long as I live, as good a man as ever I was--good man and true. Who says I arn't?"

"n.o.body here, Tom, old mate," cried the big fisherman, giving the sailor a hearty slap on the shoulder. "Good mate and true, and as good a neighbour as we've got in Rockabie. Eh, lads?"

"Ay, ay!" came in a hearty chorus.

"There, Tom, so say all of us; but none o' that about no press-gangs, mate," cried the big fisherman. "The King wants men for his s.h.i.+ps, but all on us here has our wives and weans. What was all right for a lad o'

twenty would be all wrong for such as we."

"Ay, that's true," said the sailor, "and I oughtn't to ha' said it; but look at Master Aleck here. Them boys--"

"Yes, yes, boys is boys, and allus was and allus will be, as long as there's land and sea. Some on 'em'll get a touch o' rope's-end after this game, I dessay. Lookye here, Master Aleck Donne, you come up to my place, and the missus'll find you a tin bowl o' water, a bit o' soap, and a clean towel. You won't hurt after a wash, but be able to go home as proud as a tom rooster. You licked your man, and the captain'll feel proud of you, for Big Jem was too much of a hard nut for such a chap as you. Come on, my lad."

"No, no, thank you," said Aleck, warmly; "I want to get back home now.

I don't want to show Mrs Joney a face like this."

"Nay, my lad, she won't mind; and--"

"Tom Bodger's going to sail my boat home," put in the boy, hastily, "and I shall hang over the side and bathe my face as I go. I say, all of you, I'm sorry I got into this bit of trouble, but it wasn't my fault."

"Course it wasn't," said the fisherman. "We all know that, and you've give some on 'em a lesson, my lad. Well, if you won't come, my lad, you won't."

"It's only because I want to get back home," said Aleck, warmly. "It's very kind of you all the same."

A few minutes later the boy was seated in the stern of the boat, while Tom Bodger stood up, looking as if he, too, were sitting, as he thrust the little craft along by means of the boat-hook and the pier walls, while the fishermen walked along level with them to the end, where half a dozen of the boys had gathered.

"Give him a cheer, lads," said the big fisherman, and a hearty valediction was given and responded to by Aleck, who took off and waved his cap.

But just then a hot-blooded and indignant follower of defeated Big Jem let his zeal outrun his discretion. Waiting till the group of fishermen had turned their backs, he ran to the very end of the pier, uttered a savage "Yah!" and hurled the very-far-gone head of a pollock after the boat.

The next minute he was repenting bitterly, for the big fisherman made four giant strides, caught him by the waistband, and the next moment held him over the edge of the pier and would have dropped him, struggling and yelling for mercy, into the sea, but Aleck sprang up and shouted an appeal to his big friend to let the boy go.

"Very well," growled his captor; "but it's lucky for him, Master Aleck, as you spoke. Warmint!" he growled to the boy, lowering him to the rugged stones. "Get home with yer. I'm going on by and by to your father, my lad. Be off."

The boy yelled as he started and ran off, limping, and with good cause, for the boots the fisherman wore were very loose, and hung down gaping to his ankles, as if to show how beautifully they were silver-spangled with fish scales, but the soles were very thick and terribly hard, especially about the toe.

CHAPTER FOUR.

"I didn't get my brill after all, Tom," said Aleck, as the sail filled out and the boat sped along over the little dancing waves.

"Never mind the flat fish, Master Aleck; we'll pick up a few ba.s.s as we go along through the race, and they'll be fresher than his brill."

"No, Tom," said Aleck, frowning; "no fis.h.i.+ng to-day. I want to get back and have a proper wash and change my s.h.i.+rt and collar."

"Well, you did get a bit knocked about, Master Aleck. You see, he's a hard sort o' boy; awfully thick-headed chap."

"He is, and no mistake," said Aleck. "Look at my knuckles!"

"Ay, you have got 'em a bit chipped; but it'll all grow up again. But what was it he said as made you bile over and get a-fighting that how?"

"Oh, never mind," said the boy, flus.h.i.+ng. "It's all over now."

"Yes," said the sailor, knitting his brow, "it's all over now; but," he added, thoughtfully, as he let the sheet slip through his fingers and tightened it again, giving and taking as the sail tugged in answer to the puffs of wind, "but it don't seem like you to get into action like that, Master Aleck. You're generally such a quiet sort o' chap, and don't mind the boys yelping about yer heels any more than as if they was dogs."

"Of course, and I never for a moment thought that anything they could say would put me in such a pa.s.sion. Oh, Tom, I felt once as if I could kill him!"

"Monkey must ha' been up very much indeed, Master Aleck. I've been a-wondering what he could ha' called you to make you clear the decks and go at him like that. You must have hit out and no mistake."

"Yes, I hit them as hard as ever I could--both of them."

"Both? Did you have two on 'em at yer at once?"

"Yes, part of the time."

"Then I am glad you licked 'em. It was just like a smart frigate licking a couple of two-deckers. What did he call yer?"

"Oh, never mind, Tom; nothing."

"But he must have called yer, as I said afore, something very, very bad indeed. Yer needn't mind telling me, my lad, for I seem to ha' been a sort of sea-father to yer. I've heered a deal o' bad language at sea in my time, and I should like to hear what it was that made you fly out like that. Tell us what it was."

The Lost Middy Part 3

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The Lost Middy Part 3 summary

You're reading The Lost Middy Part 3. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 622 views.

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