We passed Aden yesterday and stopped for a few hours to coal. That
was the limit. The sun beating down on the deck, the absence of the
slightest breeze, coal-dust sifting into everything--ouf! Aden's
barren rocks reminded me rather of the Skye Coolin. I wonder if they
are climbable. I haven't troubled you much, have I, with accounts
of the entertainments on board? but I think I must tell you about a
whistling competition we had the other day. You must know that we had
each a partner, and the women sat at one end of the deck and the men
stood at the other and were told the tune they had to whistle, when
they rushed to us and each whistled his tune to his partner, who had
to write the name on a piece of paper and hand it back, and the man
who got back to the umpire first won--at least his partner did. Do you
understand? Well, as you know, I haven't much ear for music, and I
hoped I would get an easy tune; but when my partner, a long, thin,
earnest man, with a stutter, burst on me and whistled wildly in my
face, I had the hopeless feeling that I had never heard the tune
before. In his earnestness he came nearer and nearer, his contortions
every moment becoming more extraordinary, his whistling more piercing;
and I, by this time convulsed by awful, helpless laughter, could only
shrink farther back in my seat and gasp feebly, "Please don't."
Mrs. Crawley was not much better. In my own misery I was aware of
her voice saying politely, "I have no idea what the tune is, but you
whistle beautifully--quite like a gramophone."
When my disgusted and exhausted partner ceased trying to emulate a
steam-engine and began to look human again, I timidly inquired what he
had been whistling. "The tune," he replied very stiffly, "was 'Rule,
Britannia!'"
"Dear me," I replied meekly, "I thought at least it was something
from _Die Meistersinger_;" but he deigned no reply and walked away,
evidently hating me quite bitterly. I shan't play that game again, and
I can't believe the silly man really whistled "Rule, Britannia,"
for it is a simple tune and one with which I am entirely at home,
whereas--but no matter!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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