The Powder Monkey | Page 5

your name was, nor where you come from."
The little fellow frowned and looked pained.

"Got a name, haven't you?" said the sailor.
"Yes, of course," cried the boy. "Phil."
"Phil, eh?" said the sailor. "Phil what?"
"Leigh," was the reply.
"Phil Leigh, eh? Hard a-lee. Well, where do you live?"
"At Greyton," said the boy, slowly and sadly. "No, I used to live there,
till--till--till--"
"Yes, I know," said Jack, quickly, as he grasped the meaning of the
boy's working face. "But why don't you live there now?"
"Because uncle came," said the boy, with a shudder, "and then
I--I--You won't take me back, will you?"
"Dunno yet," said Jack, sternly. "Boys arn't got no business to run away
from home. Watcher run away for?"
"He used to beat me so."
"Beat you--a little un like you?" cried Jack, with a look of disgust.
"What with?"
"Walking stick."
"Thick un?" said Jack, and the boy nodded. "And didn't nobody stop
him?"
"Yes," said the little fellow quickly. "Aunt did."
"Who's aunt?" said Jack, sharply.
"Why, my aunt. She said it was a shame."
"Ha! I like her," said Jack, and he rubbed his hands. "But what did he

beat you for?"
"He said I was always crying," said the boy, piteously. "But I couldn't
help it."
"Course you couldn't," said Jack, softly. "You cried a-cause o' them
being took away, didn't you?"
The boy nodded sharply--he did not dare to speak.
"Ha!" sighed Jack Jeens, as he rubbed his hands softly together. "I wish
I'd been there. But I say, look here. And so you run away because he
whipped you?"
The boy nodded.
"And went on walking till I run again' you?"
"Yes," came like a sigh.
"Well, you see, you'll have to go back."
The little fellow dropped the piece of biscuit he held, and it fell with a
rap upon the deck, as he started to his feet, glanced out of the open
port-hole, and took a quick step or two towards it, darted off into the
darkness of the 'tween decks, the sailor catching a glimpse of him as he
passed the light shed by the lanthorns.
"Scared, that's what he is," muttered Jack. "Why, I do believe that in his
fright he'd ha' jumped into the water and swum for it sooner than be
sent back. Well, I must find him again; and it don't seem easy in a great
ship like this. Poor little chap, he was 'most ready to jump out of his
skin!"
Jack took a few steps cautiously in the direction followed by the little
fellow, but he had hardly started before the sound of a shrill whistle
rang out, and he and some ten more pressed men were ordered on deck
to be examined by the first lieutenant and some of the other officers,
before being informed that they were now King's men, and ordered to

receive their kits, after which they were distributed amongst the crew
according to whether they were land or sea men, the latter having little
to learn.
Jack uttered a grunt as he learned his destination, which was to be
under the order of the captain of one of the big guns on the main deck,
and the meaning of that grunt was that he determined to make the best
of it. But his grunt sounded deep, because he had little Phil Leigh upon
his mind, so he addressed one of the officers, and stated his case.
"Eh? The boy brought aboard with you when you were pressed?"
"Yes, sir," said Jack. "Run away from home, he did. Uncle thrashed
him. Young gen'leman he is, and I want you to put him in a boat and set
him ashore."
"Oh! do you, my lad?" said the officer, gruffly. "Run away from home,
did he?"
"Yes, sir, because--"
"That'll do, my lad; no more talk. If he has run away from home he has
run into the very best place to learn how to be a good boy."
"But--"
"That'll do, sir. I've no time to listen to you. We want boys."
"But he's such a little un, sir," pleaded Jack.
"Then we'll feed him well and make him grow big. Where is he?"
"Dunno, sir. He run away again this morning."
"What, again?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ah, well, he can't run far, and we shall find him soon. Set him ashore,

eh? Next shore we shall see will be somewhere on the coast of Portugal
or Spain, I expect."
The officer said the last words to himself as he tramped away, leaving
Jack Jeens to stand scratching his head and muttering.
"Pore little chap!" he said. "They'll make a powder monkey on him?
Well, and a fine thing too. Better than being a boy at home with an
uncle