Peter Simple. Фредерик Марриет

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      I handed him the money, which he put in his pocket. “Your chest,” continued he, “you shall bring down here, for Mrs Trotter will, I am sure, if I request it, not only keep it in order for you, but see that your clothes are properly mended. She is a charming woman, Mrs Trotter, and very fond of young gentlemen. How old are you?”

      I replied that I was fifteen.

      “No more! well, I am glad of that, for Mrs Trotter is very particular after a certain age. I should recommend you on no account to associate with the other midshipmen. They are very angry with me, because I would not permit Mrs Trotter to join their mess, and they are sad storytellers.”

      “That they certainly are,” replied I; but here we were interrupted by Mrs Trotter coming down with a piece of stick in her hand, upon which were skewered about a dozen small pieces of beef and pork, which she first laid on a plate, and then began to lay the cloth, and prepare for dinner.

      “We have but a poor dinner to-day,” said Mrs Trotter, “for the bum-boat woman disappointed me. I particularly requested her to bring me off a leg of lamb, but she says that there was none in the market. It is rather early for it, that’s true, but Trotter is very nice in his eating. Now let us sit down to dinner.”

      I felt very sick, indeed, and could eat nothing. Our dinner consisted of the pieces of beef and pork, the potatoes, and a baked pudding in a tin dish. Mr Trotter went up to serve the spirits out to the ship’s company, and returned with a bottle of rum.

      “Have you got Mr Simple’s allowance, my love?” inquired Mrs Trotter.

      “Yes, he is victualled to-day, as he came on board before twelve o’clock. Do you drink spirits, Mr Simple?”

      “No, I thank you,” replied I, for I remembered the captain’s injunction.

      “Taking, as I do, such an interest in your welfare, I must earnestly recommend you to abstain from them,” said Mr Trotter. “It is a very bad habit, and once acquired, not easy to be left off. I am obliged to drink them that I may not check the perspiration after working in the hold: I have, nevertheless, a natural abhorrence of them; but my champagne and claret days are gone by, and I must submit to circumstances.”

      “My poor Trotter!” said the lady.

      “Well,” continued he, “it’s a poor heart that never rejoiceth.” He then poured out half a tumbler of rum, and filled the glass up with water.

      “My love, will you taste it?”

      “Now, Trotter, you know that I never touch it, except when the water is so bad that I must have the taste taken away. How is the water to-day?”

      “As usual, my dear, not drinkable.” After much persuasion, Mrs Trotter agreed to sip a little out of his glass. I thought that she took it pretty often, considering that she did not like it, but I felt so unwell that I was obliged to go on the main-deck.

      I went to bed very tired; Mr Trotter had my hammock hung up in the cock-pit, separated by a canvas screen from the cot in which he slept with his wife. I thought this very odd, but they told me it was the general custom on board ship, although Mrs Trotter’s delicacy was very much shocked by it. I was very sick, but Mrs Trotter was very kind. When I was in bed she kissed me, and wished me good night, and very soon afterwards I fell fast asleep.

      Chapter Six

      Puzzled with very common words—Mrs Trotter takes care of my wardrobe—A matrimonial duet, ending “con strepito.”

      I awoke the next morning at daylight with a noise over my head which sounded like thunder; I found it proceeded from holy-stoning and washing down the main-deck. I was very much refreshed nevertheless, and did not feel the least sick or giddy. Mr Trotter, who had been up at four o’clock, came down and directed one of the marines to fetch me some water. I washed myself on my chest, and then went on the main-deck, which they were swabbing dry. Standing by the sentry at the cabin door, I met one of the midshipmen with whom I had been in company at the Blue Posts.

      “So, Master Simple, old Trotter and his faggot of a wife have got hold of you—have they?” said he. I replied, that I did not know the meaning of faggot, but that I considered Mrs Trotter a very charming woman. At which he burst into a loud laugh. “Well,” said he, “I’ll just give you a caution. Take care, or they’ll make a clean sweep. Has Mrs Trotter shown you her ankle yet?”

      “Yes,” I replied, “and a very pretty one it is.”

      “Ah, she’s at her old tricks. You had much better have joined our mess at once. You’re not the first greenhorn that they have plucked. Well,” said he, as he walked away, “keep the key of your own chest—that’s all.”

      When he left me I went on the quarter-deck. All the sailors were busy at work, and the first lieutenant cried out to the gunner, “Now, Mr Dispart, if you’re ready, we’ll breech these guns.”

      “Now, my lads,” said the first lieutenant, “we must slue (the part the breeches cover) more forward.” As I never heard of a gun having breeches, I was very anxious to see what was going on, and went up close to the first lieutenant, who said to me. “Youngster, hand me that monkey’s tail.” I saw nothing like a monkey’s tail; but I was so frightened that I snatched up the first thing that I saw, which was a short bar of iron, and it so happened that it was the very article which he wanted. When I gave it to him, the first lieutenant looked at me, and said, “So you know what a monkey’s tail is already, do you? Now don’t you ever sham stupid after that.”

      Thought I to myself, I’m very lucky, but if that’s a monkey’s tail it’s a very stiff one!

      I resolved to learn the names of every thing as fast as I could, that I might be prepared, so I listened attentively to what was said; but I soon became quite confused, and despaired of remembering anything.

      “Mr Chucks,” said the first lieutenant to the boatswain, “what blocks have we below—not on charge?”

      “Let me see, sir, I’ve one sister, t’other we split in half the other day, and I think I have a couple of monkeys down in the store-room.—I say, you Smith, pass that brace through the bull’s eye, and take the sheepshank out before you come down.”

      “And, Mr Chucks, recollect this afternoon that you bleed all the buoys.”

      Bleed the boys! thought I, what can that be for? at all events, the surgeon appears to be the proper person to perform that operation.

      This last incomprehensible remark drove me off the deck, and I retreated to the cock-pit, where I found Mrs Trotter. “O my dear!” said she, “I am glad you are come, as I wish to put your clothes in order. Have you a list of them—where is your key?” I replied that I had not a list, and I handed her the key, although I did not forget the caution of the midshipman; yet I considered that there could be no harm in her looking over my clothes when I was present. She unlocked my chest, and pulled every thing out, and then commenced telling me what were likely to be useful, and what were not.

      “Now, these worsted stockings,” she said, “will be very comfortable in cold weather, and in the summer time these brown cotton socks will be delightfully cool, and you have enough of each to last you till you outgrow them; but as for these fine cotton stockings, they are of no use—only catch the dirt when the decks are swept, and always look untidy. I wonder how they could be so foolish as to send them; nobody wears them on board ship now-a-days. СКАЧАТЬ