JACKO STEALS THE CAPTAIN'S PUDDING.
It would take a good many chapters to tell my readers all the tricks
that this favourite of the gun-room mess played.
The surgeon, Dr. Grant, and he were excellent friends, and were often
together; and sometimes if one of his mess-mates was a bit off
colour, the Ugly Duckling would prescribe or pretend to prescribe for
him, and his prescriptions were at times droll, to say the least.
One day, for instance, the white-faced young clerk was ailing. He
frequently was.
"No use you going to Dr. Grant," said the Duckling; "he'll only give
you black-strap and make you worse. Here, out with your note-book
and I'll dictate a prescription. Are you ready?"
"Yes, Duckie."
"Well then, heave round: '_Recipe_'. Got that down? It's Latin, you
know, so have a care, but all the rest is English. Place a saucepan
on the galley fire, and when it is heated to redness pour therein
seven ounces of spirits of wine."
"Yes."
"When it comes to the boil place therein the tail of a toad--"
"But toads have got no tails."
"Well, a frog's tail will do."
"And frogs have no tails, Duckie. You're a bit off your natural
history."
"Well," cried the Duckling, "a garden worm will do. That's all tail.
Got 'im down?"
"Yes."
"Next, place in your cauldron a hair of the dog that bit you."
"Yes."
"And next--mind, this is very important, and will greatly aid the
efficacy of the medicine--five drops of the sweat of a murderer's
right hand."
The white-faced young clerk glared up aghast.
"Wh--wh--why," he faltered, "there is no murderer on board!"
"Well then, kill somebody yourself!" shouted the Ugly Duckling.
"Ta-ta! I'm off to give the doctor a dancing lesson on the
main-deck."
Well, that was precisely what he was doing five minutes after.
Dr. Grant was a splendid dancer of Highland flings and reels, &c.,
but, good-looking fellow though he was, he would have told you
himself that he always felt a fool at an English ball or hop, and he
hated being a wall-flower.
So the Ugly Duckling had offered to teach him, and had you come
forward on the fighting-deck during practising-time, you would have
seen a sight to amuse you. There was the chief bo's'n, a capital
violinist, seated astraddle on one of the big guns, and playing some
sweet, sad waltz, and yonder the little Duckling and the great Scotch
doctor floating round and round the deck, with an awkwardness,
however, that caused all the onlookers to shout with merriment.
The doctor didn't laugh a bit. It was a very serious matter for him
indeed. His happiness was at stake; so he stuck to it, and tripped
on the not very light fantastic toe.
His assiduity was finally rewarded, however, and he became one of the
best dancers on board, and on shore was quite a favourite with the
ladies.
* * * * * * * * * * *
At first the great monkey had been simply called Jacko, or
Able-seaman Jacko. But the Duckling determined to raise him to the
rank of admiral. First and foremost, however, he took no small pains
in teaching his simian friend to walk erect. This he soon learned.
Then to salute, &c.
After he was perfect in these accomplishments Jacko's promotion came.
Well, you know, reader, it isn't the first time one of a ship's crew
has risen from powder-monkey to admiral.
Then why shouldn't Jacko? Why not indeed?
The Duckling took up some nice ship's serge and buttons and gold-lace
from the paymaster, and then he made friends with the ship's tailor.
In less than a week after this, behold Jacko rigged out in the
full-dress of a rear-admiral, cocked-hat, sword, and all.
No ward-room officer except Dr. Grant was "in the know", and the
doctor good-naturedly gave the Duckling the use of the sick-bay for
training purposes, and for the practice of their evolutions.
I verily believe, from the aptitude to learn which Jacko evinced,
that the droll rascal was not a little proud of his splendid uniform
and epaulettes.
Anyhow, his education was soon complete. So one evening, as the
captain, all alone in his quarters, was bending over a chart--the
ship being then not far from land,--Bobbie, the wee Scotch
midshipmite, who was a great favourite with Captain Leeward, knocked
smartly at his door and quickly entered.
"An admiral come off to see you, sir!" he squeaked. "Shall I show
him in?"
"Most certainly, Mr. Robertson. But--"
And the captain rose in some agitation, and pushed back his chair.
The state of his feelings may be better conceived than printed when
in marched Admiral Jacko.
Jacko took off his cocked hat, and bowed.
"Ah--ha--ah--ha," the monkey said, for all the world like a nervous
man beginning a speech, and held out his little black hand as if to
shake.
Bobbie stuffed his mouth with his handkerchief. It would have been
rude to laugh before his captain, but when the latter threw himself
down in his chair in an apparent state of convulsions, then the
midshipmite laughed too, and even the captain's steward could not
refrain from joining the chorus.
Five minutes after this the ship seemed shaken from stem to stern by
the wild hilarity of the ward-room officers. They had been at their
dessert when Bobbie introduced the Admiral.
The best of it all was, that Jacko himself looked as grave as an
Oxford don. Never a smile was on his face. Not even the ghost of
one.
But the new admiral was given a chair and a plate, and, behaving
himself with all decorum, enjoyed a hearty feast of nuts and raisins.
After this, accompanied by Bobbie, he bowed and took his leave. He
had taken good care, however, to stuff one of his cheeks with nuts
before he got down off his chair, till it stuck out like--so the
doctor phrased it--a very bad case of inflammation of the parotid
gland.
Admiral Jacko, it must be admitted, was a very funny fellow, but I
fear I could not certify that he was strictly honest. Real
rear-admirals would never, for instance, do what Admiral Jacko did
once. He was on the fighting-deck one day, and noticed the captain's
steward pass into the saloon with a nice little plum-pudding.
Jacko, in full uniform, walked past the door several times and had a
sniff, the sentry smiling and presenting arms to him. But presently
an officer entered to inform the captain that a strange man-o'-war
was in sight, and leaving his luncheon he went on deck to have a look
at her. This was the Rear-admiral's chance. He rushed in and as
quickly came out again, hugging the brown and savoury pudding in his
arms.
The sentry didn't present arms to him this time, only he determined
not to tell upon poor Jacko.
"Bring in the pudding, steward," said Captain Leeward.
"Oh, sir, I brought it!"
"Then where is it?"
"That's what I should like to know, sir!"
He clapped his hand to his head, and for a moment looked confused.
"Oh, sir," he cried next minute, "I'd lay my life if you'd let me,
sir, that Admiral Jacko has collared it! Shall I run and hunt him up
and recover it?"
"No, no, steward; it wouldn't be much worth by this time."
And, sure enough, there was Admiral Jacko in the main-top discussing
that delicious "plum-duff", with half-shut eyes and all the airs and
graces of an epicure. After he had eaten all he could swallow, he
stuffed both cheeks, pitched the remains down on the head of an able
seaman, then slid down a stay to find and feed the cat.
* * * * * * * * * * *
On the whole, then, I think it must be admitted that the _Osprey_ was
rather a happy ship.
When they neared the coast of Venezuela they had the good luck to
fall in with the flag-ship of the station. Captain Leeward delivered
his despatches and letters for officers and crew, and then to his
surprise found that the admiral had a cablegram for him. It was to
the effect that he, Captain Leeward, was to join the South American
fleet for a few months. This was on account of a cloud that was
gathering in Venezuela concerning disputed British possessions on the
borders. At that time the cloud was no bigger than a man's hand, but
it might spread till it covered all the sky, and darken even our
relations with the United States of America, whose president was
apparently spoiling for a fight with Britain.
The fleet was to hold itself in readiness to land blue-jackets and
marines at any moment.
So they all went cruising together.
The poor Irish "stupidnumerary" was transferred for service to a tiny
gun-vessel, and very sorry indeed he was to part with his mess-mates.
For, bar chaff, they had all been as happy together as a summer's day
is long.
* * * * * * * * * * *
For months the fleet hovered around the coast, only putting out to
sea now and then if a storm threatened to blow them on to a
lee-shore. But there was much intercourse between the various ships,
and at the towns they anchored near, the inhabitants were most
hospitable. The flag-ship often gave a dinner or a dance on the
upper deck, which was tented over in its after part, and gay with
flags and flowers and perfumed foliage.
What a happy, jolly life is that of a young naval officer on
occasions like these, and how quickly, while waltzing with some
lovely young girl to dreamy music, does he forget all the dangers of
the ocean that he has come through!
He just lives for the present. And oh! that present glides far, far
too quickly away, yet it is something to look back to with pleasure
when once more he is out upon the lone blue sea!