she lived on board, she would have commanded the ship: fortunately for
the service, she was always very sea-sick when she was taking a passage,
and therefore did no mischief. "I recollect," said my father to me,
"once when we were running down to Portsmouth, where we had been ordered
for provisions, that my Lady Hercules, who was no fool of a weight,
being one night sea-sick in her cot, the lanyard of the cot gave way,
and she came down with a run by the head. The steward was called by the
sentry, and there was a terrible shindy. I, of course, was sent for, as
I had the hanging up of the cot. There was Sir Hercules with his shirt
flapping in the wind, and a blanket over his shoulders, strutting about
in a towering passion; there was the officer of the watch, who had been
sent for by mistake, and who was ordered to quit the cabin immediately;
and there was I, expecting to be put in irons, and have seven dozen for
my breakfast. As for Sir Hercules, he didn't know what to do; he did
nothing but storm at everybody, for my lady, with her head under the
clothes, was serving him out at no small rate. She wouldn't, she
declared, allow any man to come into the cabin to hoist her up again.
So indecent, so indelicate, so shocking,--she was ashamed of Sir
Hercules,--to send for the men; if they didn't leave the cabin
immediately, she'd scream and she'd faint--that she would--there was no
saying what she wouldn't do! Well, there we waited just outside until
at last Sir Hercules and my lady came to a parley. She was too sick to
get out of bed, and he was not able to hoist her up without assistance;
so being, as I suppose, pretty well tired of lying with her head three
feet lower than her heels, she consented, provided that she was properly
kivered up, to allow us to come in and put all to rights. Well, first
she made Sir Hercules throw over her his two boat cloaks, but that
wouldn't do; so he threw the green cloth from off the table, but that
warn't enough for her delicate sensibility, and she hollered from under
the clothes for more kivering; so Sir Hercules sent for two of the
ship's ensigns, and coiled away the bunting on her till it was as high
as a haycock, and then we were permitted to come in and hoist her
ladyship up again to the battens. Fortunately it was not a slippery
hitch that had let her down by the run, but the lanyard had given way
from my lady's own weight, so my back was not scratched after all.
Women ain't no good on board, Jack, that's sartain."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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