Joshua Marvel. Farjeon Benjamin Leopold

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СКАЧАТЬ God bless you, Joshua Marvel!"

      She raised herself on tiptoe, and Joshua stooped and kissed her. After that, Susan gave her a hug, and she returned to her father, and lay down beside him.

      When he arrived home, Joshua told Dan of the adventure, and how he had spent the fourteen pence. Dan nodded his head approvingly.

      "You did right," he said, – "you always do. I should have done just the same."

      Then they took the odd volume of Shakspeare from the shelf, and read the Ghost scenes in "Hamlet" before they said goodnight.

      CHAPTER VII

      EXPLAINS WHY PRAISEWORTHY MEDDLER REMAINED A BACHELOR

      Here is Praiseworthy Meddler, sitting in the best chair in a corner of the fireplace in the little kitchen in Stepney. In his low shoes and loose trousers, and blue shirt open at the throat, he looks every inch a sailor; and his great red pock-marked face is in keeping with his calling. On the other side of the fireplace, facing Praiseworthy Meddler, is Mr. George Marvel; next to Praiseworthy Meddler is Mrs. Marvel; on a stool at her father's feet sits Sarah; and Joshua sits at the table, watching every shade of expression that passes over his mother's face. The subject-matter of the conversation is the sea; and Praiseworthy Meddler has been "holding forth," as is evidenced by his drawing from the bosom of his shirt a blue-cotton pocket-handkerchief, upon which is imprinted a ship of twelve hundred tons burden, A 1 at Lloyd's for an indefinite number of years. The ship is in full sail, and all its canvas is set to a favorable breeze. Upon this blue vessel Praiseworthy Meddler dabs his red face in a manner curiously suggestive of his face being a deck, and the handkerchief a mop. When he has mopped his deck, which appears to be a perpetually-perspiring one, he spreads his handkerchief over his knee to dry, and says, as being an appropriate tag to what has gone before, -

      "There is no place on earth like the sea."

      The Old Sailor was not aware that any thing of a paradoxical nature was involved in the statement, or he might not have repeated it.

      "There is no place on earth like the sea. Show me the man who says there is, and I'll despise him; if I don't, I'm a Dutchman;" adding, to strengthen his declaration, "or a double Dutchman."

      The man not being forthcoming-probably he was not in the neighborhood, or, being there, did not wish to be openly despised-Praiseworthy Meddler looked around with the air of one who has the best of the argument, and then produced a piece of pigtail from a mysterious recess and bit into it as if he were a savage boar biting into the heart of a foe.

      "But the danger, Mr. Meddler," suggested Mrs. Marvel, in a trembling voice.

      "There is more danger upon land, lady."

      "There, mother," said Mr. Marvel; "didn't I tell you so, the other night?"

      "You told her right," said Praiseworthy, with emphasis. "Danger on the sea, lady! What is it to danger on the land? A ship can ride over a wave, let it be ever so high; but a man can't step over a wagon. Are carts and drays and horses safe? Are gas-pipes safe? And if there is danger on the sea, lady-which I don't deny, mind you, altogether-what does it do? Why, it makes a man of a boy, and it makes a man more of a man."

      "Hear, hear, HEAR!" exclaimed Mr. Marvel, rapping on the table.

      "Look at me!" said the enthusiastic sailor. "Here am I-I don't know how many years old, and that's a fact-I've lived on the sea from when I was a boy; and I've been blown by rough winds, and I've been blinded by storms and I've been wrecked on rocky coasts, and I've been as near death, ay, a score of times, as most men have been. Lord love you, my dear! All we've got to do is to do our duty; and when we're called aloft, we can say, 'Ay, ay, sir!' with a brave heart. What better life than a life on sea is there for boy or man? And doesn't Saturday night come round?

      "'For all the world's just like the ropes aboard a ship,

      Each man's rigged out,

      A vessel stout,

      To take for life a trip.

      The shrouds, the stays, the braces,

      Are joys, and hopes, and fears;

      The halliards, sheets, and traces,

      Still as each passion veers,

      And whim prevails,

      Direct the sails.

      As on the sea of life he steers.

      Then let the storm

      Heaven's face deform,

      And danger press;

      Of these in spite, there are some joys

      Us jolly tars to bless;

      For Saturday night still comes, my boys,

      To drink to Poll and Bess.'"

      Praiseworthy Meddler roared out the song at the top of his voice, as if it were the most natural and appropriate thing for him to do just there and then. The effect of his sudden inspiration was, that every member of the Marvel family, without being previously acquainted with the young ladies referred to, repeated in their honor the refrain of the last two lines, -

      "For Saturday night still comes, my boys,

      To drink to Poll and Bess."

      with such extraordinary enthusiasm, that the carroty-haired cat rose to her feet in alarm, debating within herself the possibility of the Marvel family having suddenly caught a contagious madness from the Old Sailor. Convinced that the matter required looking into, puss walked softly to the door, with the intention of arousing the neighbors; but, silence ensuing at the conclusion of the refrain, she became reassured, and stole back to her warm space on the floor, and curled herself up again, and blinked at the fire.

      After this exertion, Praiseworthy Meddler took the twelve-hundred-ton ship off his knee, and dabbed his face with it energetically.

      "What does it amount to," he continued, "if the heart's brave? What does it amount to when it is all over, and when one gets to be as old as I am? I'm tough and firm;" and he gave his leg a great slap. "I'm as young as a younger man; and I know that there's no place on earth like the sea."

      "And you can get promotion, can't you?" asked Joshua, eagerly. "A man needn't be a common sailor all his life?"

      "No, Josh; he needn't stick at that, if he's willing and able, and does his duty. I know many a skipper who once on a time was only an able-bodied seaman."

      "Do you hear that, mother?" cried Joshua. "Now are you satisfied?" and he jumped up and gave her a kiss.

      "What is a skipper, Mr. Meddler?" asked Mrs. Marvel, with her arm round Joshua's waist. She had a dim notion that a skipper was connected with a skipping-rope, and that she might have been a skipper in her girlhood's days. If that were the case, she could not see what advantage it would be to Joshua to become one.

      "A skipper's a captain, mother," whispered Joshua.

      "Oh!" said Mrs. Marvel, but not quite clear in her mind on the point. "Then, if I might be so bold, Mr. Meddler" -

      But here Mrs. Marvel stopped suddenly, and blushed like a girl.

      "Ay, ay, lady, go on," said the Old Sailor, encouragingly.

      "If I might make so bold," continued Mrs. Marvel, with an effort, "how is it that you never rose to be a skipper?"

      "O mother!" cried Joshua.

      "The question is a sensible one, Joshua," said Praiseworthy СКАЧАТЬ