Crown and Anchor: Under the Pen'antHutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
General
Crown and Anchor: Under the Pen'ant
Hutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
Those are really a most useful and industrious class of misnamed men
consisting of the carpenters, sailmakers, coopers, blacksmiths and other
artificers, besides the cook's mates and yeomen of stores.
In our ship the lot numbered no less than some seventy in all, who every
morning assisted in this praiseworthy task!
Creeping up as quietly as I could and trying to avoid observation from
the squinting eye of Mr Bitpin, our fourth lieutenant, who was the
oldest in seniority although he occupied such a subordinate position, I
made my way to the side of Ned Anstruther, the midshipman of the watch,
who stood on the weather side of the quarter-deck on a coil of rope so
as to keep his feet out of the way of the water that was swishing round.
Ned nodded me a greeting; and, I fancied myself safe, when in an instant
my presence was noted by the lieutenant, who turned on me.
"Hullo, youngster!" he called out, looking down from the break of the
poop, whence he had been surveying operations, finding fault with the
men beneath in quick succession, according to his general wont, and
having a snap and a snarl at everyone. His temper, never a good one
originally, had been soured by a bad digestion and ill luck in the way
of promotion, the poor beggar having been passed over repeatedly by men
younger than himself. "How is it you were not here when the watch was
mustered?"
"I'm very sorry, sir," said I, apologetically. "I overslept myself,
sir."
"Oh, indeed? You'd better not be late again when I'm officer of the
watch, or I'll have you spread-eagled in the mizzen rigging as a warning
to others, like they nail up crows against a barn door ashore. That'll
make you sharper next time, my joker! Do you hear me, youngster?"
"Yes, sir," said I, touching my cap. "I hear you, sir."
"Very well, then. Mind you heed as well as hear!" he replied
snappishly, rather disappointed, I thought, at my making no further
answer, or trying to argue the point with him. "You can go down now to
the wardroom steward and tell him to get me a cup of coffee as quickly
as he can. Now, don't be a month of Sundays about it! Say it must be
hot and strong, and not like that dish-water he brought me yesterday;
or, I'll put him in the list and stop his grog! Do you hear me?"
"Yes, sir," I said respectfully as before, giving no occasion for
offence so as to come in for more grumbling on his part. "I hear you,
sir."
"Confound that youngster, I can't catch him anyhow!" I heard him mutter
to himself as if uttering his thoughts aloud, as I turned away with
another touch of my cap and left the quarter-deck to fulfil my errand.
"He's like those monkeys at the Rock--too artful to speak. Keeps his
tripping lines too taut for that!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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