Young Tom Bowling: The Boys of the British NavyHutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
General
Young Tom Bowling: The Boys of the British Navy
Hutcheson, John C. (John Conroy)
Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Juvenile fiction; Seafaring life -- Juvenile fiction
A very `dewy' eve it was, too, if dampness made it so; but if one did
feel wet and miserable, as I confess I was, the remembrance it brought
back to my mind of my mother's house-cleaning at home being almost too
vivid to be pleasant, still, everybody on board had the satisfaction of
knowing that the ship was as smart as holystone and sand could make her,
from upper deck to keelson, I verily believe!
I was none the less miserable, either, the following morning, when all
the boys were rigged out in their best and inspected by the captain; for
the tailor, true to the character of all `snips' since the days when
Adam started in that line with his fig-leaf costume, never sent on
board, as he promised, the uniforms of us unfortunate novices, so we
could neither make a decent appearance with the rest of our comrades,
nor have permission to go ashore--`unclothed' scarecrows, as some of us
were, would have seemed queer fish to come from a well-ordered ship.
On Monday, however, all things were made right in this respect; and,
having satisfactorily passed `bag and hammock drill,' the test of our
novitiate, I and my fellow-unfortunates became not only clad like our
fellows, but were enrolled amongst the rest of the second-class boys,
and appointed to our proper place in the ship.
My number being 2799, through some occult system of nautical numeration,
I was detailed to the `Third,' or second starboard, division of the
ship's company; so I joined mess Number 38, which was on the port side
on the lower deck, the first one aft of the schoolroom.
I also proceeded a day or two after, being thenceforth regarded as a
neophyte no longer, to take part in all the regular drills of the ship,
and one morning, subsequent to breakfast, underwent that rudimentary
stage of seamanship styled `boxing the compass'--though I might have
really told the painstaking instructor, who painfully and ploddingly
laboured to instil the cardinal points into my head as if I were an
ignoramus, that I not only knew the `lubber's point' probably as well as
he did, but could, on a pinch, have conned the ship in and out of
Portsmouth Harbour!
This `boxing the compass' business, though, brought me to loggerheads
with that brute `Ugly' somehow or other, strangely enough.
I don't know how it was, but from the moment, I believe, I first cast
eyes on his singularly unprepossessing face, Moses Reeks had been my
special antipathy!
It was not so much that he said anything to me or of me, as from the
fact of his always `putting it on' poor Mick Donovan, for whom I
entertained as great a liking as I disliked the other.
`Ugly' was always snarling at my chum, and ever giving him a chance kick
or blow, should he be able to do so unobserved and without being
directly taxed with it; though, of course, he would deny it if observed
by any of the other boys, being an unmitigated liar, in addition to
having a sour and vindictive disposition.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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