The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval LieutenantCupples, George
General
The Green Hand: Adventures of a Naval Lieutenant
Cupples, George
Sea stories; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction; Voyages and travels -- Juvenile fiction
"The decks were lively enough to look at; the men working quietly by
twos and threes about the bulwarks all day long, and pairs of them to be
made out at different points aloft, yarning away comfortably together,
as the one passed the ball for the other's serving-mallet, with now a
glance at the horizon, and now a grin at the passengers below, or a
cautious squint at the top of the mate's cap. White awnings triced over
poop and quarter-deck, the cover of the waist hammock-netting clean
scrubbed, and the big shady main-course half brailed-up, rustling and
bulging above the boats and booms amidships; every hatchway and door
with a round funnel of a wind-sail swelling into it, and their bellies
moving like so many boa-constrictors come down from aloft, and going in
to catch cadets. You saw the bright white sky dazzling along under the
awning-cheeks, that glared on it like snow; and the open quarter-deck
ports let in so many squares of shifting blue light, with a draught of
air into the hot carronade muzzles, that seem to gasp for it, with their
red tompions stuck out like tongues. The very look of the lifting blue
water on the shady side was refreshing, and the brighter the light got,
_it_ grew the darker blue. You listened for every cool splash of it on
the bends, and every rustle of the canvas aloft; and instead of
thinking, as the landsmen did, of green leaves and a lazy nook for
shelter, why to my fancy there's a great deal more satisfaction in good
_dark blue_, with a spray over the cathead to show you're going, and
with somewhat to go for! For want of better, one would have given his
ears to jump in head-foremost, and have a first-rate bathe--the very sea
itself kept rising up alongside, to make an easy dive for one, and
sinking into little round troughs again, where the surges would have
sprinkled over your head. Now and then a bigger wave than ordinary would
go swelling up, and out sprang a whole glittering shower of flying-fish,
freckling the dark side with drops, and went flittering over into the
next, or skimming the crests out of sight into a hollow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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