"Oh-h," said I, looking at Joe, "Hulks! And please what's Hulks?"
"That's the way with this boy," exclaimed my sister, "answer him one
question, and he'll ask you a dozen directly. Hulks are prison ships right
'cross the meshes." (We always used that name for marshes in our country.)
"I wonder who's put in prison ships, and why they're put there," said I.
This was too much for Mrs. Joe, who immediately rose. "I tell ye what,
young fellow," said she, "I didn't bring you up by hand to badger people's
lives out. People are put in the Hulks because they murder and rob and
forge and do all sorts of bad; and they always begin by asking questions.
Now you get along to bed!"
I was never allowed a candle and as I crept up in the dark I felt
fearfully sensible that the Hulks were handy for me. I was clearly on the
way there. I had begun by asking questions and I was going to rob Mrs.
Joe. I was also in mortal terror of the young man who wanted my heart and
liver, and of my acquaintance with the iron on his leg, and if I slept at
all that night it was only to imagine myself drifting down the river on a
strong spring tide to the Hulks, a ghostly pirate calling out to me
through a speaking trumpet that I had better come ashore and be hanged
there at once. I was afraid to sleep even if I could have, for I knew that
at the first dawn of morning I must rob the pantry and be off.
So as early as possible I crept downstairs to the pantry and secured some
bread, some rind of cheese, half a jar of mincemeat, some brandy from a
stone bottle which I poured into a bottle of my own and then filled the
stone one up with water. I also took a meat bone and a beautiful pork pie.
Then I got a file from among Joe's tools, and with this and my other
plunder made my way with all dispatch along the river-side. Presently I
came upon what I supposed was the man I was searching for, for he too was
dressed in coarse gray and had a great iron on his leg, but his face was
different.
"It's the young man," I thought, feeling my heart beat fast at the idea.
He swore at me as I passed, and tried in a weak way to hit me, but then he
ran away and I continued my trip to the Battery, and there was the right
man in a ravenous condition. He was gobbling mincemeat, meat-bone, bread,
cheese, and pork pie all at once, when he turned suddenly and said:
"You're not a deceiving imp? You brought no one with you?" I answered no,
and he resumed his meal, snapping at the food as a dog would do. While he
was eating, I ventured to remark that I had met the young man he spoke of,
at which the man showed the greatest surprise, and became so violently
excited that I was very much afraid of him. I was also afraid of remaining
away from home any longer. I told him I must go, but he took no notice, so
I thought the best thing I could do was to slip off, which I did.
"And where the deuce ha' you been?" was Mrs. Joe's Christmas salutation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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