Marmaduke Merry: A Tale of Naval Adventures in Bygone DaysKingston, William Henry Giles
General
Marmaduke Merry: A Tale of Naval Adventures in Bygone Days
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Midshipmen -- Fiction; Sea stories
there was no use keeping the men out of their hammocks, as they had been
hard worked lately, and I could do as much any day as half the ship's
company, I told them to turn in. You've all heard, of course, of the
Pampeiros of South America. They are heavy squalls which come off the
Pampas of that extraordinary country. For an hour or more I stood at
the helm, admiring the stars and thinking of the number of strange
things which had happened to me, when on a sudden, without the slightest
warning, I found my teeth almost blown down my throat, and, before I
could sing out to shorten sail, over the vessel went on her beam ends
with such force that even the sea didn't stop her; but while I hung on
to the wheel for dear life, down went her masts perpendicularly, and up
she came on the other side, and to my infinite satisfaction righted
herself with a jerk, which sent everything into its place again. So
rapid was the movement that nothing was washed away, nor were any of the
people awakened. Indeed, they would not believe what had happened even
when I told them, till they found a turn in the clews of their hammocks,
for which they could not otherwise account. Many of my old shipmates in
the Lady Stiggins are still alive, and will vouch for the truth of my
statement."
"Are you certain, bos'un, that you did not take the turns yourself while
the people were on deck and then get them all to go to sleep that you
might make them believe your story?" asked some one outside in a feigned
voice.
"Wouldn't it be easier, stupid, to invent the story from beginning to
end, if I wanted to impose on any one?" asked Mr Johnson, with
pretended indignation. "However, as I have more than once observed, I
have an especial objection to be interrupted by cavillers and doubters;
so I'll thank you, Mr Dubersome, to keep your notions bottled up in the
empty skull which holds all the wits you've got. Ho! ho! ho! I
generally contrive to give as much as I get. But I must, I see, proceed
with my veracious narrative.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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