Cutlass and Cudgel

Cutlass and Cudgel, by George
Manville Fenn

The Project Gutenberg EBook of Cutlass and Cudgel, by George
Manville Fenn This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost
and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it
away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Cutlass and Cudgel
Author: George Manville Fenn
Illustrator: J Schonberg
Release Date: May 4, 2007 [EBook #21297]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CUTLASS
AND CUDGEL ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

Cutlass and Cudgel, by George Manville Fenn.
_________________________________________________________

______________
In some ways this book is reminiscent of "The Lost Middy", by the same
author, but I suppose that with a similar theme, a nosey midshipman
taken prisoner by a gang of smugglers, there are bound to be other
points of similarity. Anyway, it is a good fast-moving story, with lots of
well-drawn human interest.
It starts off with a comic scene, where the Excise patrol vessel is
cruising near an area suspected of being heavily involved with
smuggling. Suddenly a large object is seen swimming in the water, and
it turns out to be a cow. Then there's all the business of milking the cow
on the deck of a sailing-vessel. Pretty soon, however it gets serious,
and we meet various characters living nearby. Soon the inquisitive
midshipman is taken prisoner, and it falls to another teenager, the son
of one of the chief rogues, to bring him food. Both boys become friendly
with each other, but the midshipman can only express it by appearing
to hate the farm-fisher boy, whom he considers to be socially far
beneath him. The farm-boy tries so hard to be kind to the midshipman,
who is so rude in return.
Eventually the midshipman escapes, the smugglers are caught, and the
farm-boy becomes a seaman on the Excise vessel. NH
_________________________________________________________
____________
CUTLASS AND CUDGEL, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.
CHAPTER ONE.
"Heigh-Ho-Ha-Hum! Oh dear me!"
"What's matter, sir?"
"Matter, Dirty Dick? Nothing; only, heigh-ho-ha! Oh dear me, how
sleepy I am!"
"Well, sir, I wouldn't open my mouth like that 'ere, 'fore the sun's up."

"Why not?"
"No knowing what you might swallow off this here nasty, cold, foggy,
stony coast."
"There you go again, Dick; not so good as Lincolnshire coast, I
suppose?"
"As good, sir? Why, how can it be?" said the broad, sturdy sailor
addressed. "Nothin' but great high stony rocks, full o' beds of great flat
periwinkles and whelks; nowhere to land, nothin' to see. I am surprised
at you, sir. Why, there arn't a morsel o' sand."
"For not praising your nasty old flat sandy shore, with its marsh beyond,
and its ague and bogs and fens."
"Wish I was 'mong 'em now, sir. Wild ducks there, as is fit to eat, not
iley fishy things like these here."
"Oh, bother! Wish I could have had another hour or two's sleep. I say,
Dirty Dick, are you sure the watch wasn't called too soon?"
"Nay, sir, not a bit; and, beggin' your pardon, sir, if you wouldn't mind
easin' off the Dirty--Dick's much easier to say."
"Oh, very well, Dick. Don't be so thin-skinned about a nickname."
"That's it, sir. I arn't a bit thin-skinned. Why, my skin's as thick as one
of our beasts. I can't help it lookin' brown. Washes myself deal more
than some o' my mates as calls me dirty. Strange and curious how a
name o' that kind sticks."
"Oh, I say, don't talk so," said the lad by the rough sailor's side; and
after another yawn he began to stride up and down the deck of His
Majesty's cutter White Hawk, lying about a mile from the Freestone
coast of Wessex.
It was soon after daybreak, the sea was perfectly calm and a thick grey
mist hung around, making the deck and cordage wet and the air chilly,

while the coast, with its vast walls of perpendicular rocks, looked weird
and distant where a peep could be obtained amongst the wreaths of
vapour.
"Don't know when I felt so hungry," muttered the lad, as he thrust his
hands into his breeches pockets, and stopped near the sailor, who
smiled in the lad's frank-looking, handsome face.
"Ah, you always were a one to yeat, sir, ever since you first came
aboard."
"You're a noodle, Dick. Who wouldn't be hungry, fetched out of his cot
at this time of the morning to take the watch. Hang the watch! Bother
the watch! Go and get me a biscuit, Dick, there's a good fellow."
The sailor showed his white teeth, and took out a brass box.
"Can't get no biscuit yet, sir. Have a