The Maid of SkerBlackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
General
The Maid of Sker
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Foundlings -- Fiction; Romance fiction; Wales -- Fiction
I was not so far gone as that. Nevertheless, it served me right (for
thinking such dreadful looseness) to have no broad fine road of sleep,
in the depth whereof to be borne along, and lie wherever wanted; but
instead of that to toss and kick, with much self-damage, and worst of
all, to dream such murder that I now remember it. What it was, belongs
to me, who paid for it with a loss of hair, very serious at my time of
life. However, not to dwell upon that, or upon myself in any way--such
being my perpetual wish, yet thwarted by great activity--let it be
enough to say that Parson Chowne in my visions came and horribly stood
over me.
Therefore, arising betimes, I hired a very fine horse, and, manning him
bravely, laid his head east and by south, as near as might be, according
to our binnacle. But though the wind was abaft the beam, and tide and
all in his favour, and a brave commander upon his poop, what did he do
but bouse his stem, and run out his spanker-driver, and up with his
taffrail, as if I was wearing him in a thundering heavy sea. I resolved
to get the upper hand of this uncalled-for mutiny; and the more so
because all our crew were gazing, and at the fair I had laid down the
law very strictly concerning horses. I slipped my feet out of the
chains, for fear of any sudden capsize, and then I rapped him over the
catheads, where his anchor ought to hang. He, however, instead of doing
at all what I expected, up with his bolt-sprit and down with his
quarter, as if struck by a whale under his forefoot. This was so far
from true seamanship, and proved him to be so unbuilt for sailing, that
I was content to disembark over his stern, and with slight concussions.
"Never say die" has always been my motto, and always will be: nailing my
colours to the mast, I embarked upon another horse of less than half the
tonnage of that one who would not answer helm. And this craft, being
broken-backed, with a strange sound at her port-holes, could not under
press of sail bowl along more than four knots an hour. And we adjusted
matters between us so, that when she was tired I also was sore, and
therefore disembarked and towed her, until we were both lit for sea
again. Therefore it must have been good meridian when I met Parson
Chowne near his house.
This man was seldom inside his own house, except at his meal-times, or
when asleep, but roving about uncomfortably, seeing to the veriest
trifles, everywhere abusing or kicking everybody. And but for the
certainty of his witchcraft (ninefold powerful, as they told me, when
conferred upon a parson), and the black strength of his eyes, and the
doom that had befallen all who dared to go against him, the men about
the yards and stables told me--when he was miles away--that they never
could have put up with him; for his wages were also below their deserts.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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