Returning into the town, the boys were greatly amused at seeing a
sailor's wedding. Four carriages and pair drove along; inside were
women, while four sailors sat on each roof, waving their hats to the
passers-by, and refreshing themselves by repeated pulls at some black
bottles, with which they were well supplied. Making inquiries, the
boys found that the men belonged to a fine frigate which had come in a
day or two before, with several prizes.
The next morning they went down to the barracks. Several
non-commissioned officers, with bunches of gay ribbons in their caps,
were standing about. Outside the gates were some boards, with notices,
"Active young fellows required. Good pay, plenty of prize-money, and
chances, of promotion!"
The boys read several of these notices, which differed only from each
other in the name of the regiment; and then Tom gave an exclamation of
satisfaction as he glanced at a note at the foot of one of them, "Two
or three active lads wanted as buglers."
"There we are, Peter; and, oh, what luck! it is Uncle Peter's
regiment! Look here, Peter," he said, after a pause, "we won't say
anything about being his nephews, unless there is no other way of
getting taken; for if we do it won't be nice. We shall be taken notice
of, and not treated like other fellows, and that will cause all sorts
of ill-feeling and jealousy, and rows. It will be quite time to say
who we are when we have done something to show that we shan't do
discredit to him. You see it isn't much in our favor that we are here
as two runaway boys. If we were older we could go as volunteers, but
of course we are too young for that."
It should be mentioned that in those days it was by no means unusual
for young men who had not sufficient interest to get commissions to
obtain permission to accompany a regiment as volunteers. They paid
their own expenses, and lived with the officers, but did duty as
private soldiers. If they distinguished themselves, they obtained
commissions to fill up vacancies caused in action.
"There is our sergeant, Tom; let's get it over at once."
"If you please," Tom said, as they went up to the sergeant, "are you
the recruiting sergeant of the Norfolk Rangers?"
"By Jove, Summers, you are in luck to-day," laughed one of the other
sergeants; "here are two valuable recruits for the Rangers. The
Mounseers will have no chance with the regiment with such giants as
those in it. Come, my fine fellows, let me persuade you to join the
15th. Such little bantams as you are would be thrown away upon the
Rangers."
There was a shout of laughter from the other non-commissioned
officers.
Tom was too much accustomed to chaffing bargees at Eton to be put out
of countenance.
"We may be bantams," he said, "but I have seen a bantam lick a big
dunghill cock many a time. Fine feathers don't always make fine birds,
my man."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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