We and the World: A Book for Boys. Part II — John Shaqi
We and the World: A Book for Boys. Part IIEwing, Juliana Horatia
General
We and the World: A Book for Boys. Part II
Ewing, Juliana Horatia
Sea stories
"What have you had to-day?" I asked.
"I've been in the dock all day," he answered evasively, "but I'm no
great eater at the best of times, and I chewed two bits of orange-peel,
not to speak of a handful of corn where there was a big heap had been
spilt by some wasteful body or another, that had small thoughts of it's
coming to use. Now hoo in this world's a man to make honest profit on a
commodity he entrusts--"
"Sh! sh! You're raising your voice again," said I. "Where's your hand?
It's only a cake, but it'll be better than nothing." And I held out the
cake Biddy had made me put in my pocket.
"I'll no take it from ye. Keep it for your own needs; I'm harder than
yourself, it's likely," he said, pushing my hand aside, and added almost
peevishly, "but keep the smell of it from me."
"I can spare it perfectly," I whispered. "I've had plenty to eat quite
lately."
I shall never forget how he clutched it then. I could hear his teeth
clash with the eagerness of his eating. It almost frightened me in the
darkness.
"Eh! man, that was good!" he gasped. "Are ye sure indeed and in truth ye
could spare it all? I didn't think they made such bannocks out of
Scotland. But we've much to learn in all matters, doubtless. Thank ye a
thousand times."
"The old Irishwoman gave it me!" I said with some malice. "She made me
put it in my pocket, though she had given me a good meal before, for
which she would take nothing."
"It was leeberal of her," said Alister Auchterlay. "Verra leeberal; but
there are good Christians to be met with, amongst all sorts, there's not
a doot aboot it."
I should probably have pursued my defence of Biddy against this
grudging--not to say insulting--tribute to her charity, if I had not
begun to feel too tired to talk, and very much teased by the heaving of
the vessel.
"I wish the ship would be quiet till we start," I said. "We're not at
sea yet."
In reply to this Alister at some length, and with as much emphasis as
whispering permitted, explained to me that a ship could not, in the
nature of things, keep still, except in certain circumstances, such as
being in dry dock for repairs or lying at anchor in absolutely still
water.
"Good gracious!" I interrupted. "Of course I know all that. You don't
suppose I expect it not to move?"
"I understood ye to say that ye wushed it," he replied with dignity, if
not offence.
"I don't know what I wish!" I moaned.
My companion's reply to this was to feel about for me and then to begin
scrambling over me; then he said--"Move on, laddie, to your right, and
ye'll find space to lie on the flat of your back, close by the ship's
side. I'm feared you're barely fit for the job ye've undertaken, but
ye'll be easier if ye lie down, and get some sleep."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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