Afloat and Ashore | Page 9

in modo," said I, laughing also, he put on such a droll look. "And I think, Mr Rooney, you possess the fortiter in re, too, from the way you can speak sometimes."
"Bedad, I don't ondercumstubble," he replied, taking off his cap and scratching his head reflectively, rather taken aback by my Latin quotation; "though if that haythen lingo manes soft sawder, by the powers I've got lashins av it! Howsomedevers, youngster, we naydn't argify the p'int; but if the foorst mate were ownly aboord, d'ye know what I'd loike to do?"
"What?" I inquired.
"Why, trate them dock loompers to grog all round. They've worruked loike blue nayghurs; specially that l'adin' man av theirs, that chap there, see him, wid the big nose on his face? I'd loike to pipe all hands down in the cabin to splice the main-brace, if ownly the foorst mate were aboord," he repeated in a regretful tone. Adding, however, the next moment more briskly: "An', by the blissid piper that played before Moses, there he is!"
CHAPTER THREE.
WARPING OUT OF DOCK.
While the boatswain was still speaking, and expressing his regret at not being able to show the stevedores that he properly appreciated the mode in which they had done their work, I noticed a boy come out from somewhere on the deck below, just underneath where we were standing, and make his way towards the forepart of the ship, apparently in a great hurry about something or other.
I wondered what he was going to do, and was puzzling my head about the matter, not liking to interrupt Tim Rooney, when the boy himself the next instant satisfied my curiosity by going up to the ship's bell, which was suspended in its usual place, under the break of the forecastle, just above and in front of the windlass bits away forward; when, catching hold of a lanyard hanging from the end of the clapper, he struck four sharp raps against the side of the bell, the sound ringing through the air and coming back distinctly to us aft on the poop. I should, however, explain that I, of course, was not familiar with all these nautical details then, only learning them later on, mainly through Tim Rooney's help, when my knowledge of ships and of sea terms became more extended.
Just as the last stroke of the bell rang out above the babble of the men's voices and the shuffling noise of their feet moving about, the four strokes being sounded in pairs, "cling-clang, cling-clang!" like a double postman's knock, a slim gentlemanly young man, with brown hair and beard and moustache, who was dressed in a natty blue uniform like mine, save that he wore a longer jacket and had a band of gold lace round his cap in addition to the solitary crown and anchor badge which my head-gear rejoiced in, appeared on top of the gangway leading from the wharf alongside. The next instant, jumping down from the top of the bulwarks on to the main-deck, a couple of strides took him to the foot of the poop ladder, quickly mounting which, he stood beside us.
"Sure, an' it's proud I am to say yez, sorr," exclaimed the boatswain, touching the peak of his dilapidated cheese-cutter in salute, and with a smile of welcome on his genial face; "though it's lucky, bedad, ye didn't come afore, Misther Mackay, or faix ye'd have bin in toime to be too soon."
"How's that, Rooney?" inquired the other with a pleasant laugh, showing his nice white teeth. "Instead of being too early, I'm afraid I am a little late."
"The divil a bit, sorr," replied Rooney. "We've only jist this viry minnit struck down the last av the cargo; an' if ye'd come afore, why, it's ruckshions there'd a bin about our skulkin', I know."
"No, no," laughingly said the young officer; who, I suppose, was older than he looked, for Tim Rooney told me in a loud whisper while he was speaking that he was the "foorst mate" of the ship. "I'm not half such a growler as you are, bosun; but, all the same, I'm glad you've got the job done. Who's been looking after the dock mateys below, seeing to the stowage?"
"Misther Saunders, sorr," promptly answered Rooney. Adding aside for my enlightenment as to who this worthy might be: "The `sicond mate,' sure, mavourneen."
"Ah, then we need have no fears about its being well done," rejoined Mr Mackay, or the first mate, as I'd better call him. "Who is our friend here alongside of you, bosun? I don't recollect having the pleasure of seeing him before. Another youngster from Leadenhall Street--eh?"
He looked at me inquiringly as he asked the question.
"Yes, sorr. He's Misther Gray-ham, sorr; jist come down to jine the Silver Quane, sorr, as foorst-class apprentice," replied the boatswain