True Blue | Page 6

the
ship reached Port Royal harbour, in Jamaica, the little fellow should be
taken on shore to be christened all shipshape and properly. When the
Captain heard of this, he gave his full consent to the arrangement, and
promised to assist in its execution.

The flag of the gallant Sir Peter Parker was flying in the harbour of Port
Royal when, after a long passage, the Terrible fired the usual salute on
entering, and dropped her anchor there. Two or three days elapsed
before the duty of the ship would allow any of the crew to go on shore.
On the first Sunday morning, however, it was notified that a hundred of
them might have six hours' leave, and that if the infant was presented,
after morning service, before the minister of one of the parish churches,
he would perform the wished-for ceremony. Great were the
preparations which had been made. Betty Snell and Nancy Bolton were
dressed out with shawls, and furbelows, and ribbons of the gayest
colours and patterns, and looked and thought themselves very fine.
Nothing could surpass the magnificence of the child's robe. All the
knowledge of embroidery possessed by the whole ship's company had
been expended on it, and every chest and bag had been ransacked to
find coloured beads and bits of silk and worsted and cotton of different
hues to work on it. The devices were curious. There were anchors and
cables twisting about all over it, and stars and guns, and there was a
full-rigged ship in front; while a little straw hat, which had been plaited
and well lined, was stuck on the child's head in the most knowing of
ways, with the name of the Terrible worked in gold letters on a ribbon
round it. Certainly, however, nothing could be more inappropriate than
the name to the little smiling infant thus adorned. Never had such a
dress been worn before by any baby ashore or afloat.
Then his shipmates took care that Will Freeborn himself should be in
unusually good trim, and they got him to let Nancy Bolton dress his
pigtail, while Sergeant Bolton stood by, and got him into conversation;
and as for Paul Pringle, he turned out in first-rate style, and so did two
of Freeborn's messmates and especial chums, Peter Ogle and Abel
Bush, both first-rate seamen. All the men who had leave, indeed, rigged
out in their best, and adorned themselves to the utmost of their power.
The boatswain, also, got them a dozen flags, which they hoisted on
boathooks and other small spars; and they had on board, besides, a
one-legged black fiddler, and a sort of amateur band, all of whom were
allowed to accompany them.
On shore early on Sunday morning they went, and marshalled as they

landed from the boats which conveyed them on the quays of Kingston.
The one-legged black fiddler, Sam, being the only professional, and the
rated musician on board, claimed the honour of leading the way,
followed by the rest of the band with their musical instruments. Then
came the father of the baby, Will Freeborn, supported on either side by
Paul Pringle and Peter Ogle, who each bore a flag on a staff; and next,
Betty Snell, to whom had been awarded the honour of carrying the
important personage of the day; and on one side of her walked Nancy
Bolton, and on the other Abel Bush, one of the three proposed
godfathers, with another flag. In consequence of the numberless
chances of war, it had been agreed that the child should have three
godfathers and two godmothers; besides which, each of the godfathers
was to have a mate who was to take his place in case of his death, and
to assist Freeborn in looking after his son, so that there was every
probability of poor Molly's son being well taken care of. These, then,
came next, bearing aloft an ensign and a Union-Jack, while the rest of
the crew, with more flags, rolling along, made up the remainder of the
procession.
But the person who created the greatest sensation among the spectators,
especially of his own colour, was Sam Smatch, the one-legged fiddler;
nor did he deem himself to be the least in importance. No one was in
higher feather. He felt himself at home in the country--the hot climate
suited him; he saw numbers of his own race and hue, inclined, like
himself, to be merry and idle. How he grinned and rolled his eyes about
on every side--how he scraped away with his bow--how he kicked up
his wooden leg and cut capers which few people, even with two, could
have performed as well! As to the rest of the band, he beat them hollow.
In vain they tried to play. If they played