Humorous stories, English; Sailors -- Fiction; Seafaring life -- Fiction
“I call it an outrage,” said Mrs. Cluffins, waving the parasol wildly.
“I never heard of such a thing; I’d like to give Mr. Gannett a piece of
my mind. Just about half an hour of it. He wouldn’t be the same man
afterwards—I’d parrot him.”
Mrs. Gannett, soothing her agitated friend as well as she was able, led
her gently to a chair and removed her bonnet, and finding that complete
recovery was impossible while the parrot remained in the room, took
that wonder-working bird outside.
By the time they had reached the docks and boarded the _Curlew_ Mrs.
Cluffins had quite recovered her spirits. She roamed about the steamer
asking questions, which savoured more of idle curiosity than a genuine
thirst for knowledge, and was at no pains to conceal her opinion of
those who were unable to furnish her with satisfactory replies.
“I shall think of you every day, Jem,” said Mrs. Gannett tenderly.
“I shall think of you every minute,” said the engineer reproachfully.
He sighed gently and gazed in a scandalised fashion at Mrs. Cluffins,
who was carrying on a desperate flirtation with one of the apprentices.
“She’s very light-hearted,” said his wife, following the direction of
his eyes.
“She is,” said Mr. Gannett curtly, as the unconscious Mrs. Cluffins
shut her parasol and rapped the apprentice playfully with the handle.
“She seems to be on very good terms with Jenkins, laughing and carrying
on. I don’t suppose she’s ever seen him before.”
“Poor young things,” said Mrs. Cluffins solemnly, as she came up to
them. “Don’t you worry, Mr. Gannett; I’ll look after her and keep her
from moping.”
“You’re very kind,” said the engineer slowly.
“We’ll have a jolly time,” said Mrs. Cluffins. “I often wish my husband
was a seafaring man. A wife does have more freedom, doesn’t she?”
“More what?” inquired Mr. Gannett huskily.
“More freedom,” said Mrs. Cluffins gravely. “I always envy sailors’
wives. They can do as they like. No husband to look after them for nine
or ten months in the year.”
Before the unhappy engineer could put his indignant thoughts into words
there was a warning cry from the gangway, and with a hasty farewell he
hurried below. The visitors went ashore, the gangway was shipped, and
in response to the clang of the telegraph the _Curlew_ drifted slowly
away from the quay and headed for the swing-bridge slowly opening in
front of her.
The two ladies hurried to the pier-head and watched the steamer down
the river until a bend hid it from view. Then Mrs. Gannett, with a
sensation of having lost something, due, so her friend assured her, to
the want of a cup of tea, went slowly back to her lonely home.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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