Menhardoc | Page 8

a veil spread over his face by his projecting his lower lip and sending the smoke up into his eyes.
"If you ever did such a thing again, I'd have a divorce," cried the old lady sharply. "You go and change your things, sir, and then get a book till dinner's ready."
The old lady stepped into the parlour, and the old purser was in the act of winking solemnly at his nephew when Mrs Marion reappeared.
"Ah, I saw!" she cried. "You are encouraging this boy, Abram. Here; Betsey, bring your flannel and wipe up this mess. And you, go in directly and change your things."
The old lady disappeared again, and the wrinkles stood all over the old purser's face as he growled softly between fancy puffs of smoke.
"Woman's words in house, Will, is like cap'en's orders 'board ship, with the articles over at the back. Must be minded, or it's rank mutiny, and a disrate. Puff. Go and get a dry rig."
"Yes, uncle," said Will quietly.
"And--puff--you--puff--must be more careful of your clothes--puff, boy. Puff, puff, puff. We all sail through life--puff--under orders. Puff.--Few of us is cap'ens--puff. Very few of us is admirals--puff; and what with admiralty and the gov'ment--puff, puff, and the people's opinion--puff, and the queen--puff; they can't do so much as they like, as a regular tar. Puff, puff."
The way in which the ex-purser distributed his tobacco smoke during this oracular lecture to his brother's orphan son was something astounding; and he had smoked so heavily that it seemed at last as if he were trying to veil himself from the lad's gaze lest he should see the weakness exhibited with regard to Mrs Marion's rule; while he kept glancing uneasily at the lad, as if feeling that he was read by heart.
"All right, uncle, I understand," said Will, turning to go.
"That's right--puff, Will. Good lad. Your aunt means well, and if she pitches into us both--rams us, as you may say, Will, why, we know, eh?"
"Oh yes, uncle, we know."
"It don't hurt us, lad. She says lots about what you cost for food, and what an expense you've been to her, and she calls you lazy."
"Yes, uncle," said Will, sadly.
"But what do it amount to, eh? Only tongue, and tongue's only tongue after all."
"No, uncle."
The last puff of smoke had been sucked out of the pipe, and the old gentleman kept on gesticulating with it as he spoke.
"Only tongue, lad. Your aunt's one o' the finest and best and truest women under the sun. See how clean she's always kept you ever since you first come to us."
"No, uncle, since you came and fetched me from that miserable school, and said, `don't cry, my man; you're my own brother's boy, and as long as I live I'll be a father to you.'"
"Did I say them words, Will? Was they the very words?"
"Yes, uncle," cried the lad, flushing; "the very words;" and he laid his hand affectionately on the old man's shoulder.
"Ah! well, and very proper words too, I suppose," said the old man; "and I did mean to be, lad; but you see I never had no experience of being a father, and I'm afraid I've made a mess of it."
"You've always been like the kindest of fathers to me, uncle," said Will warmly.
"And she's always been the kindest of mothers, like, my lad. Lor' bless you, Will, my boy, it's only tongue. Splendid craft your aunt is, only she's overweighted with engine, and her bilers is a bit too big. Tongue's safety-valve, Will, and I never sit on it, my lad. Make things worse. Burst."
"Yes, uncle, I see," said Will, with a sad smile.
"You're all right, my lad. I didn't care to send you in the Ryle Navee, so I did the next best thing, made a sailor of you in a lugger. She's mine now with all her craft of nets--leastwise she's aunt's, for she keeps the accounts; but some day when I'm sewn up and dropped overboard out of the world, the lugger'll all be yours; only if I go first, Will," he whispered, drawing the lad closer to him, "never mind the bit of a safety-valve as fizzles and whistles and snorts; be kind, lad, to your aunt."
"I don't want the lugger," cried Will, laying his hands on the old man's shoulders. "I want my dear old uncle to stop, and see him enjoy his pipe, and I won't take a hit of notice--"
"Of the safety-valve, Will?"
"No, uncle; but I want to get on," cried the lad excitedly. "I'm tired of being a burden to you, uncle, and--"
"Hasn't that boy changed his things yet?"
"Right, Ruth, my dear," cried the old purser loudly, assuming his old sea lingo. "Here, you, sir, how much longer are you going to stand jawing there. Heave ahead and