The Island of Gold: A Sailor's Yarn. Stables Gordon

Чтение книги онлайн.

      Of the tenants of the wood;

      How the tortoise bears his shell;

      How the woodchuck digs his cell,

      And the ground mole makes his well;

      How the robin feeds her young;

      How the oriel’s nest is hung;

      Of the black wasp’s cunning way,

      Mason of his walls of clay;

      And the architectural plans

      Of grey hornet artisans.”

      It is true enough that this family was poor in the eyes of the world. I am sure they were not ashamed of it, however.

      The poverty that goes hand in hand with honesty may hold up its head before the Queen.

      So sang the immortal Robert Burns.

      But could any boy, or girl either, be really poor who had so many friends in field and forest, and by the winding stream? No; and such a one as this, who has been in touch with nature in his or her early days, may grow up, grow old, but never forget the days of youth, and never, never lose faith in Heaven and a happy Beyond.

      The cottage and the surrounding country, however, did not constitute all the children’s world. There was the ship – as I have said – the barge that went to sea, and in which they so often sailed.

      For to them as yet the barge was a brig, and the canal the ocean wide and wild. Well, I might on second thoughts withdraw those “wee wordies,” wide and wild. The canal was not a very wide one, nor was it ever very wild, in summer time at all events.

      Never mind, to the imagination of Ransey, Babs, and Bob, the Merry Maiden was —

      The crew of the Merry Maiden, I may tell you at once, was a very small one indeed, and consisted – all told, that is – of the captain himself, who was likewise cook, boatswain, and bedmaker all combined; one sturdy, great boy of sixteen, strong enough to lift almost any weight, Sammy by name, who was first lieutenant, supercargo, and chief engineer, and who often took his trick at the wheel – that is, he took the tiller and relieved his captain, or mounted Jim and relieved Ransey; Ransey himself, who was second engineer – Jim, the stout old bay nag, being the engine itself, the moving power when no fair wind was blowing; and Bob, whose station was at the bows, and his duty to keep a good look-out and hail those aft if any other ship hove in sight or danger was near.

      The Merry Maiden rejoiced in one mast, which had to be cleverly lowered when a bridge had to be negotiated. The sail was a fore-and-aft one, though very full at times. Picturesquely reddish-brown it was, and looked so pretty sometimes against the green of the trees that, as the craft sailed slowly on in the sunshine, dreamy artists, seated smoking at their out-door easels, often made the Merry Maiden part and parcel of the landscape they were painting.

      I think that Tandy himself liked being on board. The barge was his own, and carrying light wares or parcels from village to village, or town to town, his trade.

      Things had gone backwards with Tandy as long as he looked upon the rum when it was red; he had got into debt. But now he was comfortable, jolly once more, because his keel was clear, as he phrased it; and as he reclined to-day on the top of the cuddy, or poop, with the tiller in his hand, Babs nestling near him, with the greenery of the woods, the fields, and little round knolls floating dreamily past him in the silvery haze of the sunshine, he looked a picture of health, happiness, and contentment.

      Ransey and Babs took their canal life very easily. They never knew or cared where they were going to, nor thought of what they might see. Even the boy’s knowledge of the geography of his own country was very limited indeed.

      He had some notion that his father’s canal – he grandly termed it so occasionally – was somewhere away down in the midlands. And he was right. He hadn’t learned to box the compass, however; and even had he possessed the knowledge, there wasn’t a compass on board the Merry Maiden to box or be boxed. Besides, the ship’s head was seldom a whole hour in any one particular direction. The canal was a very winding one, its chief desire seeming to be to visit all the villages it could reach without being bothered with locks. These last were few and far between, because the country was rather a level one on the whole.

      Nevertheless the fact of their not knowing exactly where they were going to, or what they would see next, lent an additional charm to the children’s canal life. It was like the game children play on moonlight nights in Scotland. This is a very simple one, but has a great fascination for tiny dwellers in the country, and, besides, it gives excellent scope for the imagination. One child blindfolds another, and leads him here, there, and everywhere, without going far away from home – round the stackyards, over the fields by the edge of the woods, or across bridges, the blindfolded wondering all the time where he is, but feeling as if he were in fairyland, till at last his eyes are free, and he finds himself – well, in the very last place he could have dreamt of being.

      There is no reason why canal life in England should not be most pleasant, and canal people just as happy as was the crew, all told, on board the Merry Maiden.

      The saloon of the Maiden, as Tandy grandly called it, was by no means very large. It was simply a dear little morsel of a doll’s-house, but the taste of the owner was shown in many different ways. By day the beds were folded up and were prettily draped with bright curtains. There were a lounge, an easy-chair, a swing-lamp, a beautiful brass stove, and racks above and at both sides of it for plates and mugs and clear, clean tin cooking utensils; there were tiny cupboards and brackets and mirrors, and in almost every corner stood vases of wild flowers, culled by Babs and Ransey whenever they had a chance. And this was often enough, for really Jim was so wise a horse that he never required any urging to do his duty. He was never known to make either break or stumble. But when sail was on the ship, Jim had nothing to do except to walk after her and look about him. Sometimes the oats or the wheat grew close to the path, and then, although a very honest horse, Jim never failed to treat himself to a pluck. So he was as sleek and fat as any nag need be.

      The weather was not always fine, of course, but on wet days Babs could be sent below, with Bob to mind her, to play with her picture-books, her lady doll, and her dolly-bone.

      Ransey’s father had made him discard now, for ever and ay, his ragged garments, although the boy had not done so without a sigh of regret – they were so free and easy.

      His best clothes, presented by Miss Scragley, were stowed away for high days and holidays, and the suit his father bought him and brought him was simply neat and somewhat nautical.

      Let us take a little cruise in the Merry Maiden. Shall we, reader?

      It will be a cruise in imagination certainly, but very real for all that, because it is from the life.

      It is very early, then, СКАЧАТЬ