CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
THE "FUN GROWS FAST AND FURIOUS"--THE PEDAGOGUE DOES NOT SCAN CORRECTLY,AND HIS FEET BECOME VERY UNEQUAL--AN ALLEGORICAL COMPLIMENT ALMOSTWORKED UP INTO A LITERAL QUARREL--AT LENGTH THE MIGHTY ARE LAID LOW, ANDTHE DOMINIE HURTS HIS NOSE.
I heard Tom's treble, and a creaking noise, which I recognised toproceed from the Dominie, who had joined the chorus; and I went aft, ifpossible to prevent further excess; but I found that the grog hadmounted into the Dominie's head, and all my hints were disregarded. Tomwas despatched for the other bottle, and the Dominie's pannikin wasreplenished, old Tom roaring out--
"Come, sling the flowing bowl; Fond hopes arise, The girls we prize Shall bless each jovial soul; The can, boys, bring, We'll dance and sing, While foaming billows roll.
"Now for the chorus again--
"Come, sling the flowing bowl, etcetera.
"Jacob, why don't you join?" The chorus was given by the whole of us.The Dominie's voice was even louder, though not quite so musical, as oldTom's.
"_Evoe_!" cried the Dominie; "_evoe! cantemus_.
"_Amo, amas_--I loved a lass, For she was tall and slender; _Amas, amat_--she laid me flat, Though of the feminine gender.
"Truly do I not forget the songs of my youth, and of my hilarious days:yet doth the potent spirit work upon me like the god in the Cumeansybil; and I shall soon prophecy that which shall come to pass."
"So can I," said Tom, giving me a nudge, and laughing.
"Do thine office of Ganymede, and fill up the pannikin; put not in toomuch of the element. Once more exalt thy voice, good Dux."
"Always ready, master," cried Tom, who sang out again in praise of hisfavourite liquor--
"Smiling grog is the sailor's best hope, his sheet anchor, His compass, his cable, his log, That gives him a heart which life's cares cannot canker. Though dangers around him, Unite to confound him, He braves them, and tips off his grog. 'Tis grog, only grog, Is his rudder, his compass, his cable, his log, The sailor's sheet anchor is grog."
"Verily, thou art an Apollo--or, rather, referring to thy want of legs,half an Apollo--that is, a _demi_-god. (_Cluck, cluck_.) Sweet is thylyre, friend Dux."
"Fair words, master; I'm no liar," cried Tom. "Clap a stopper on yourtongue, or you'll get into disgrace."
"_Ubi lapsus quid feci_," said the Dominie; "I spoke of thy musicaltongue; and, furthermore, I spoke alle-gori-cal-ly."
"I know a man lies with his tongue as well as you do, old chap; but asfor telling a _hell of a_ (something) _lie_, as you states, I say Inever did," rejoined old Tom, who was getting cross in his cups.
I now interfered, as there was every appearance of a fray; and in spiteof young Tom, who wished, as he termed it, to _kick up a shindy_,prevailed upon them to make friends, which they did, shaking hands fornearly five minutes. When this was ended, I again entreated the Dominienot to drink any more, but to go to bed.
"_Amice, Jacobe_," replied the Dominie; "the liquor hath mounted intothy brain, and thou wouldst rebuke thy master and thy preceptor. Betakethee to thy couch, and sleep off the effects of thy drink. Verily,Jacob, thou art _plenus Veteris Bacchi_; or, in plain English, thou artdrunk. Canst thou conjugate, Jacob? I fear not. Canst thou decline,Jacob? I fear not. Canst thou scan, Jacob? I fear not. Nay, Jacob,methinks that thou art unsteady in thy gait, and not over clear in thyvision. Canst thou hear, Jacob? if so, I will give thee an orationagainst inebriety, with which thou mayest down on thy pillow. Wilt thouhave it in Latin or in Greek?"
"O, damn your Greek and Latin!" cried old Tom; "keep that for to-morrow.Sing us a song, my old hearty; or shall I sing you one? Here goes--
"For while the grog goes round, All sense of danger's drown'd, We despise it to a man; We sing a little--"
"Sing a little," bawled the Dominie.
"And laugh a little--"
"Laugh a little," chorused young Tom.
"And work a little--"
"Work a little," cried the Dominie.
"And swear a little--"
"Swear _not_ a little," echoed Tom.
"And fiddle a little--"
"Fiddle a little," hiccuped the Dominie.
"And foot it a little--"
"Foot it a little," repeated Tom.
"And swig the flowing can, And fiddle a little, And foot it a little, And swig the flowing can--"
roared old Tom, emptying his pannikin.
"And swig the flowing can--"
followed the Dominie, tossing off his.
"And swig the flowing can--"
cried young Tom turning up his pannikin empty.
"Hurrah! that's what I calls glorious. Let's have it over again, andthen we'll have another dose. Come, now, all together." Again was thesong repeated; and when they came to "foot it a little," old Tom jumpedon his stumps, seizing hold of the Dominie, who immediately rose, andthe three danced round and round for a minute or two, singing the songand chorus, till old Tom, who was very far gone, tripped against thecoamings of the hatchway, pitching his head into the Dominie's stomach,who fell backwards, clinging to young Tom's hand; so that they allrolled on the deck together--my worthy preceptor underneath the othertwo.
"Foot it _rather too much_ that time, father," said young Tom, gettingup the first, and laughing. "Come, Jacob, let's put father on his pinsagain; he can't rise without a purchase." With some difficulty, wesucceeded. As soon as he was on his legs again, old Tom put a hand uponeach of our shoulders, and commenced, with a drunken leer--
"What though his timbers they are gone, And he's a slave to tipple, No better sailor e'er was born Than Tom, the jovial cripple.
"Thanky, my boys, thanky; now rouse up the old gentleman. I suspect weknocked the wind out of him. Hollo, there, are you hard and fast?"
"The bricks are hard, and verily my senses are fast departing," quoththe Dominie, rousing himself, and sitting up, staring around him.
"Senses going, do you say, master?" cried old Tom. "Don't throw themoverboard till we have made a finish. One more pannikin apiece, onemore song, and then to bed. Tom, where's the bottle?"
"Drink no more, sir, I beg; you'll be ill to-morrow," said I to theDominie.
"_Deprome quadrimum_," hiccuped the Dominie. "_Carpe diem--quamminimum--creula postero._--Sing, friend Dux--_Quem virum--sumescelebrare--music amicus_.--Where's my pattypan?--We are notThracians--_Natis in usum--laetitae scyphis pugnare_--(hiccup)--_Thracumest_--therefore we--will not fight--but we will drink--_recepto dulcemihi furere est amico_--Jacob, thou art drunk--sing, friend Dux, orshall I sing?
"_Propria quae maribus_ had a little dog, _Quae genus_ was his name--
"My memory faileth me--what was the tune?"
"That tune was the one the old cow died of, I'm sure," replied Tom."Come, old Nosey, strike up again."
"Nosey, from _nasus_--truly, it is a fair epithet; and it remindeth methat my nose--suffered in the fall which I received just now. Yet Icannot sing--having no words--"
"Nor tune, either, master," replied old Tom; "so here goes for you--
"Young Susan had lovers, so many that she Hardly knew upon which to decide; They all spoke sincerely, and promised to be All worthy of such a sweet bride. In the morning she'd gossip with William, and then The noon will be spent with young Harry, The evening with Tom; so, amongst all the men, She never could tell which to marry. Heigho! I am afraid Too many lovers will puzzle a maid.
"It pleaseth me--it ringeth in mine ears--yea, most pleasantly.Proceed,--the girl was as the Pyrrha of Horace--
"Quis multa gracillis--te puer in rosa-- Perfusis liquidis urgit odoribus. Grate, Pyrrha--sub antro?"
"That's all high Dutch to me, master; but I'll go on if I can. Mymemory box be a little out of order. Let me see--oh!
"Now William grew jealous, and so went away; Harry got tired of wooing; And Tom having teased her to fix on the day, Received but a frown for so doing; So, 'mongst al
l her lovers, quite left in the lurch, She pined every night on her pillow; And meeting one day a pair going to church, Turned away, and died under a willow. Heigho! I am afraid Too many lovers will puzzle a maid.
"Now, then, old gentleman, tip off your grog. You've got yourallowance, as I promised you."
"Come, master, you're a cup too low," said Tom, who, although in highspirits, was not at all intoxicated; indeed, as I afterwards found, hecould carry more than his father. "Come, shall I give you a song?"
"That's right, Tom; a volunteer's worth two pressed men. Open yourmouth wide, an' let your whistle fly away with the gale. You whistlesin tune, at all events."
Tom then struck up, the Dominie see-sawing as he sat, and getting verysleepy--
"Luck in life, or good or bad, Ne'er could make me melancholy; Seldom rich, yet never sad, Sometimes poor, yet always jolly. Fortune's in my scale, that's poz, Of mischance put more than half in; Yet I don't know how it was, I could never cry for laughing-- Ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha! I could never cry for laughing.
"Now for chorus, father--
"Ha! ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha! I could never cry for laughing.
"That's all I know; and that's enough, for it won't wake up the oldgentleman."
But it did. "Ha, ha, ha--ha, ha, ha! I could never die for laughing,"bawled out the Dominie, feeling for his pannikin; but this was his lasteffort. He stared round him. "Verily, verily, we are in a whirlpool--how everything turneth round and round! Who cares? Am I not an ancientmariner--`_Qui videt mare turgidum--et infames scopulos_.' Friend Dux,listen to me--_favet linguis_."
"Well," hiccuped old Tom, "so I will--but speak--plain English--as Ido."
"That I'll be hanged if he does," said Tom to me. "In half an hour moreI shall understand old Nosey's Latin just as well as his--plain English,as he calls it."
"I will discuss in any language--that is--in any tongue--be it in theGreek or the Latin--nay, even--(hiccups)--friend Dux--hast thou notpartaken too freely--of--dear me! _Quo me, Bacche, rapis tui--plenum_--truly I shall be tipsy--and will but finish my pattypan--_dulcepericulum est_--Jacob--can there be two Jacobs?--and two old Toms?--nay--_mirabile dictu_--there are two young Toms, and two dog Tommies--each with--two tails. _Bacche, parce--precor--precor_--Jacob, where artthou?--_Ego sum tu es_--thou art--_sumus_, we are--where am I?_Procumbit humi bos_--for Bos--read Dobbs--_amo, amas_--I loved a lass._Tityre, tu patulae sub teg-mine_--nay--I quote wrong--then must I be--Ido believe that--I'm drunk."
"And I'm cock sure of it," cried Tom, laughing, as the Dominie fell backin a state of insensibility.
"And I'm cock sure of it," said old Tom, rolling himself along the deckto the cabin hatch "that I've as much--as I can stagger--under, at allevents--so I'll sing myself to sleep--'cause why--I'm happy. Jacob--mind you keep all the watches to-night--and Tom may keep the rest." OldTom then sat up, leaning his back against the cabin hatch, and commencedone of those doleful ditties which are sometimes heard on the forecastleof a man-of-war; he had one or two of the songs that he always reservedfor such occasions. While Tom and I dragged the Dominie to bed, old Tomdrawled out his ditty--
"Oh! we sailed to Virgi-ni-a, and thence to Fy-al, Where we water'd our shipping, and so then weigh-ed all, Full in view, on the seas--boys--seven sail we did es-py, O! we man-ned our capstern, and weighed spee-di-ly.
"That's right, my boys, haul and hold--stow the old Dictionary away--forhe can't command the parts of speech.
"The very next morning--the engagement proved--hot, And brave Admiral Benbow received a chain-shot. O when he was wounded to his merry men--he--did--say, Take me up in your arms, boys, and car-ry me a-way.
"Now, boys, come and help me--Tom--none of your foolery--for your poorold father is--drunk--."
We assisted old Tom into the other "bed-place" in the cabin. "Thanky,lads--one little bit more, and then I'm done--as the auctioneer says--going--going--
"O the guns they did rattle, and the bul-lets--did--fly, When brave Benbow--for help loud--did cry, Carry me down to the cock-pit--there is ease for my smarts, If my merry men should see me--'twill sure--break--their--hearts.
"Going,--old swan-hopper--as I am--going--gone."
Tom and I were left on deck.
"Now, Jacob, if you have a mind to turn in. I'm not sleepy--you shallkeep the morning watch."
"No, Tom, you'd better sleep first. I'll call you at four o'clock. Wecan't weigh till tide serves; and I shall have plenty of sleep beforethat."
Tom went to bed, and I walked the deck till the morning, thinking overthe events of the day, and wondering what the Dominie would say when hecame to his senses. At four o'clock, as agreed, I roused Tom out, andturned into his bed, and was soon as fast asleep as old Tom and theDominie, whose responsive snores had rung in my ears during the wholetime that I had walked the deck.