We sailed the next day, and, after one month more of unsuccessful
cruising, arrived safe at Halifax, where I was informed that an old
friend of my father's, Sir Hurricane Humbug, of whom some mention has
already been made in this work, had just arrived. He was not in an
official character, but had come out to look after his own property. It
is absolutely necessary that I should here, with more than usual
formality, introduce the reader to an intimate acquaintance with the
character of Sir Hurricane.
Sir Hurricane had risen in life by his own ingenuity, and the patronage
of a rich man in the south of England: he was of an ardent disposition,
and was an admirable justice of peace, when the _argumentum baculinum_
was required, for which reason he had been sent to reduce two or three
refractory establishments to order and obedience; and, by his firmness
and good humour, succeeded. His tact was a little knowledge of
everything, not like Solomon's from the hyssop to the cedar, but from
the boiler of a potato to the boiler of a steamboat, and from catching a
sprat to catching a whale; he could fatten pigs and poultry, and had a
peculiar way of improving the size, though not the breed of the latter;
in short, he was "jack of all trades and master of none."
I shall not go any farther back with his memoirs than the day he chose
to teach an old woman how to make mutton broth. He had in the course of
an honest discharge of his duty at a certain very dirty sea-port town,
incurred the displeasure of the lower orders generally: he nevertheless
would omit no opportunity of doing good, and giving advice to the poor
gratis. One day he saw a woman emptying the contents of a boiling
kettle out of her door into the street. He approached, and saw a leg of
mutton at the bottom, and the unthrifty housewife throwing away the
liquor in which it had been boiled.
"Good woman!" said the economical baronet, "do you know what you are
doing? A handful of meat, a couple of carrots, and a couple of turnips,
cut up into dice and thrown into that liquor, with a little parsley,
would make excellent mutton broth for your family."
The old woman looked up, and saw the ogre of the dockyard; and either by
losing her presence of mind or by a most malignant slip of the hand, she
contrived to pour a part of the boiling water into the shoes of Sir
Hurricane. The baronet jumped, roared, hopped, stamped, kicked off his
shoes, and ran home damning the old woman, and himself too, for having
tried to teach her how to make mutton broth. As he ran off, the
ungrateful hag screamed after him, "Sarves you right; teach you to mind
your own business."
The next day, in his magisterial capacity, he commanded the attendance
of "the dealer in slops."
"Well, madam, what have you to say for yourself for scalding one of his
Majesty's justices of the peace? Don't you know that I have the power
to commit you to Maidstone gaol for the assault?"
"I beg your honour's pardon humbly," said the woman; "I did not know it
was your honour, or I am sure I wouldn't a' done it; besides, I own to
your honour I had a drop too much."
The good-natured baronet dismissed her with a little suitable advice,
which no doubt the good woman treated as she did that relative to the
mutton broth.
My acquaintance with Sir Hurricane had commenced at Plymouth, when he
kicked my ship to sea in a gale of wind for fear we should ground on our
beef bones. I never forgave him for that. My father had shown him
great civility, and had introduced me to him. When at Halifax, we
resided in the same house with a mutual friend who had always received
me as his own son. He had a son of my own age with whom I had long been
on terms of warm friendship, and Ned and I confederated against Sir
Hurricane. Having paid a few visits _en passant_, as I landed at the
King's Wharf, shook hands with a few pretty girls, and received their
congratulations on my safe return, I went to the house of my friend,
and, without ceremony, walked into the drawing-room.
"Do you know, sir," said the footman, "that Sir Hurricane is in his
room? But he is very busy," added the man, with a smile.
"Busy or not," said I, "I am sure he will see me"--so in I walked.
Sir Hurricane was employed on something, but I could not distinctly make
out what. He had a boot between his knees and the calves of his legs,
which he pressed together, and as he turned his head round, I perceived
that he held a knife between his teeth.
"Leave the door open, messmate," said he, without taking the least
notice of me. Then rising, he drew a large black tom-cat by the tail,
out of the boot, and flinging it away from him to a great distance,
which distance was rapidly increased by the voluntary exertion of the
cat, which ran away as if it had been mad--"There," said he, "and be
damned to you, you have given me more trouble than a whole Kentucky
farm-yard but I shall not lose my sleep any more by your damned
caterwauling."
All this was pronounced as if he had not seen me--in fact, it was a
soliloquy, for the cat did not stay to bear it. "Ah!" said he, holding
out his hand to me, "how do you do? I know your face, but damn me if I
have not forgot your name."
"My name, sir," said I, "is Mildmay."
"Ah, Mildmay, my noble, how do you do--how did you leave your father? I
knew him very well--used to give devilish good feeds--many a plate I've
dirtied at his table--don't care how soon I put my legs under it again;
take care, mind which way you put your helm--you will be aboard of my
chickabiddies--don't run athwart-hawse."
I found, on looking down, that I had a string round my leg, which
fastened a chicken to the table, and saw many more of these little
creatures attached to the chairs in the room; but for what purpose they
were thus domesticated I could not discover.
"Are these pet chickens of yours, Sir Hurricane?" said I.
"No," said the admiral, "but I mean them to be pet capons by and by,
when they come to table. I have finished a dozen and a half this
morning, besides that damned old tom-cat."
The mystery was now explained, and I afterwards found out (every man
having his hobby) that the idiosyncrasy of this officer's disposition
had led him to the practice of neutralising the males of any species of
bird or beast, in order to render them more palatable at the table.
"Well, sir," he continued, "how do you like your new ship--how do you
like your old captain?--good fellow, isn't he?--damn his eyes--
countryman of mine--I knew him when his father hadn't as much money as
would jingle on a tombstone. That fellow owes everything to me. I
introduced him to the Duke of ---, and he got on by that interest. But
I say, what do you think of the Halifax girls--nice! a'n't they?"