by Oliver Optic
"Now, young Samson, don't be too rough with that little contraption ofmine."
The aggrieved look on Dan's face set them laughing, and the tension wasrelieved. They passed out of the station, and came to the little farmwagonette. Tommy was usually driver, but as there was only room forone on the driver's seat, and she declared that she was going to sitwith Uncle, Elizabeth good-naturedly offered to take the reins. Whenthe Captain, the other girls, and the trunk were packed in behind, itwas a tight squeeze, and Dan Whiddon, rejoicing in twopence, surveyedthe pony doubtfully.
"You'm better get out and walk up t' hill," he suggested, with thefamiliarity of an old friend.
"Be off and buy your sweeties, Samson," said the Captain, "or we'llhitch you on as leader." And laughing at his own jest, Uncle Bensqueezed Mary with his right arm, and Tommy with his left, and calledto Elizabeth to get under way.
There was little talking on the homeward drive. The younger girls werequite happy nestling against their uncle; and he was thinking of hismany former home-comings. But when he entered the bright farm parlour,and saw the spread tea-table, and the blazing fire which Mrs. Pratt hadkindled--then his jolly weather-worn face glowed, and he cried, in thesame words he had used a score of times before--
"East or west, home is best. How do, Jane?"
"Nicely, thank'ee sir," returned Mrs. Pratt, with a bob, "except for mypoor feet."
The girls smiled. They had heard the same question and answer eversince they could remember, when Uncle Ben came home. Tommy meanwhilehad removed his hat, Mary had slyly stuffed his red handkerchief intohis pocket, and now Elizabeth gently pushed him down into his favouritearm-chair. Mrs. Pratt, who suffered from bunions, and hobbled about,made the tea, while Mary toasted what was in that country place stillcalled a Sally Lunn, and Elizabeth fetched from the dairy, now verybare and forlorn, a pot of cool delicious Devonshire cream. Duringthese preparations Tommy was content to sit at her uncle's feet,resting her head on his knees, and now and again giving his horny handa squeeze.
It was Tommy, however, who kept things lively at the tea-table.
"Now, Uncle," she would say, "you must have more cream in your tea, oryou'll be as nervous as a cat."
"Very well, my dear," was the meek reply. "Afloat I drink it withoutmilk or cream, sea-cows not being tractable animals, you know; but whenin Rome, do as the rum 'uns do, eh?"
"That dreadful old pun of yours! You expect us to punish you, don'tyou now?"
"I'll be Punch to your Judy," returned the Captain, with a heartylaugh, and for some minutes he alternately cracked his simple jokes anddevoted himself to his food. "I always say there's nothing in foreignparts to match the cakes and cream of Devonshire," he said, "and you'dknow it if you lived on ship's biscuit and salt horse, my girl."
"Where have you been this voyage, Uncle?" asked Mary.
"Peru and Monte Video, and other outlandish parts, my dear. I was heldup in the Doldrums, and water was running plaguy short; 'water, watereverywhere, but not a drop to drink,' as that poetry fellow says. Onemore voyage, my girls, and then I drop anchor for good."
"We hoped you would stay with us," said Elizabeth.
"Couldn't do it, Bess," he replied. "I can hold a straight course, butI couldn't run a straight furrow for the life of me. No; one morevoyage, to the South Pacific Islands this time, and then I'll take asnug little cottage somewhere by the sea, and spend my dayswhitewashing it, and getting worse-tempered every day, and you shallkeep house for me, and smooth me down."
And then Tommy put the usual question--it always came from Tommy.
"What adventures did you have this time, Uncle?"
Uncle Ben rubbed his chin, and assumed an air of deep reflection.
"Adventures! Well, the only one worth speaking about," he said slowly,"was when we were becalmed in latitude 35 deg. South, longitude 152 deg. East,I think it was. By the chart we should have been about a hundred andfifty miles from the nearest land, but one morning Long Jimmy--the tallfellow with one eye, you remember----?"
"Yes," said Tommy; "he helped me down the side last time I saw you off."
"Well, he was look-out at the time, and he sings out, 'Land-ho!' I wason deck in a twinkling, I can tell you; and there, a couple of pointson the starboard quarter, was a smallish kind of island, and stretchingaway behind it a lot of little islands pretty near as far as you couldsee. The biggest was as large as Mount St. Michael, maybe, and all ofa white shiny rock. I made a few remarks about the chart-makers, andwas thinking of putting out a boat to examine it, when, bless youreyes! that island began to move, and all the little 'uns after it."
Here he drank half a cup of tea, and the girls waited breathlessly forhim to continue.
"Some one set up a cry of sea-serpent," he went on gravely, "and SunnyPat--the little Irishman, you remember---?"
"Yes, such a funny little man. Go on, Uncle," said Tommy.
"Well, Sunny Pat calls out, 'Begorra, shure 'tis the way of openin' itis!' and sure enough that big island showed a gash right across themiddle, that grew wider and wider, and each side of it there was a rowof teeth about as long as a church steeple. Jupiter, 'twas a fearsomesight. But Sandy Sam--you remember him, the big red-headedfellow--he's got more presence of mind than any able seaman I ever met.He outs with a big gooseberry--we'd taken a few bushels on board atGreenland--and flings it straight at the monster, knowing thatsea-serpents can't abide big gooseberries, being in the same line ofbusiness, as you may say. Well----"
Here the story was interrupted, for the girls made a simultaneous rushon the old man. Tommy pummelled him. Mary put her hand over hismouth, and Elizabeth took his half-eaten cake, and declared that heshould have no more until he confessed that he had been fibbing.
"You naughty wicked old man," cried Tommy, as he shook with laughter."Now you shan't have another cup of tea until you've turned out yourpockets."
"I give in," said the Captain. "Three to one isn't fair play. I'vehad enough tea, only let me get my pipe alight and then we'll see."
As long as the girls could remember, their uncle, on his arrival, whenhis first pipe was lit, had turned out his capacious pockets, in whichthere was always a present of some kind for every one, besides oddmentsunaddressed which his nieces appropriated at their fancy. Settled inthe arm-chair, with a big calabash pipe in his mouth, he plunged hishand into a pocket, and brought out the red bandana handkerchief.
"That's your flag," cried Tommy. "Be quick!"
"Patience," he replied, producing a tin of tobacco and a knife.
"We'll let you keep them," said Mary. "What next, Uncle?"
"Well, here's a small parcel with somebody's name on it, and it looksuncommon like Mary."
Mary seized the parcel, opened it, and uttered a cry of delight as sheunfolded a pretty Indian scarf.
"Oh, you dear!" she cried, giving him a kiss.
He plunged his hand again into his pocket and drew out slowly and witha solemn air that made the girls agog with expectation--a short cuttypipe, at which they cried "Shame!" Then came another small parcel,marked with Elizabeth's name, which proved to contain a tortoiseshellcomb with silver mountings. Another dip brought forth a bright roundsilver case with a long cord hanging from a hole in the side. Tommypounced on this.
"What is it, Uncle?" she asked.
"It's a contraption for getting a light in a wind, given me by an oldfriend in Valparaiso," replied the Captain. "'Twas kindly meant, to besure, but I've never used it, for I've never had any difficulty inlighting my pipe in any wind that ever blew short of a typhoon, andthen a man has other things to think about. I'll show you how it'sdone, and you can keep it against the time when you're an old woman andgo round selling things from a caravan: old women of that sort alwayssmoke."
"The idea!" exclaimed Tommy, but when her uncle had shown her how toobtain a spark by turning a little handle sharply, and how the sparkignited the cord, she took the thing and slipped it into her pocket.
T
hen at last came the parcel for which Tommy had been eagerly waiting,and she gave a long sigh of pleasure as she drew through her fingers ascarf of exquisite fineness like Mary's.
"You're a darling!" she cried, giving her uncle a tight hug, and at thesame time knocking his pipe from his mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry," shesaid contritely. "Never mind, I'll fill it again for you."
Captain Barton took from his pockets sundry other articles which hedivided among the girls, as well as a queer assortment of his personalbelongings. When all his pockets were empty, Tommy said--
"Now you can put all that rubbish back; see what a litter it makes!"
"For what you don't want, I return humble and hearty thanks," said theCaptain, using a form of words which they had heard from his lips eversince they were babies. "And now if you can think of anything butfal-lals, we'll settle down and have a cosy talk about things. Drawyour chairs up to the fire, girls."
CHAPTER III
LEAVING HOME
Uncle Ben listened attentively as Elizabeth gave an account of affairsat the farm. He did not interrupt her, but now and then muttered anejaculation through a cloud of smoke. Elizabeth was clear-headed, anddid not take long to explain the position to her uncle. It wasimpossible to keep on the farm without capital, and the Captain, thoughhe had a good sum laid by, was not the man to risk his money in abusiness of which he knew nothing. So the farm must be sold, and itwas clear that when everything was settled up, there would be little ornothing left for the girls to live on. They mentioned the ideas theyhad had of earning their living, and the obstacles in the way; andCaptain Barton puffed at his pipe, and pulled his beard, and every nowand then stroked Tommy's hair as she leant against his knee.
"Hum!" he grunted, when all had said their say. "There's only one wayout of the difficulty that I can see."
He paused impressively, and the girls looked at him with expectation.
"And that is," he went on, weighing each word, "to get you spliced."
"Spliced!" cried Tommy. "Married, you mean? Me married!"
"Well, not you, perhaps--not yet a bit, seeing you are only a littletomboy sort of thing----"
"Thing! how dare you!" cried Tommy, pummelling her uncle's leg.
"I meant a thing of beauty, my dear," said he meekly, "which, as thepoet says, is a joy for ever."
"He wouldn't think me a joy for long, I can tell you," returned Tommy."But, really, it's too ridiculous. Bess, you don't want to getmarried?"
"Not for a living, certainly," said Elizabeth.
"Of course not," added Mary.
"Well, that's squashed," cried Tommy, "and if you can't think ofanything better, Captain Barton--why, you're not married yourself!"
"No, my dear, I've never tried," replied her uncle apologetically."Well, now, there's that notion I mentioned a while ago--a littlecottage by the sea, you know; we four--me and the three Graces, eh?"
"It would be simply awful, Uncle," cried Tommy. "Whatever should we doall day? We should all become perfect cats, and you'd have a simplyhorrid time. No, if you want us to live with you, you must take ahouse somewhere where we could work--earn our salt, you know. I'm notgoing to be a burden to anybody."
"That's a fine spirit, to be sure. Then it must be London, I suppose,Deptford way or Rotherhithe; one of you could keep house for me, andthe others could go to classes, and learn teaching or whatever it isyou want to do. What do you think of that, now?"
"I should love to keep house for you, Uncle," said Elizabeth.
"And Mary and I would love to do the other thing, wouldn't we, Mary?"cried Tommy. "So it's settled, and you'd better advertise for a houseat once, Uncle."
"Steady, my dear. As I told you, I must make one more voyage. I've aheap of things to settle up in various parts, and it'll be at least ayear before I'm ready. The question is, what can you do for a year?You can't remain here, and I'm not going to set you up in Londonwithout me to look after you."
"Why not? We'd look after each other," said Tommy.
"Couldn't think of it, my dear," said the Captain decisively. "It's afacer, that's the truth."
"I know what!" cried Tommy, suddenly starting up. "Take us with you!"
"What?" gasped her uncle.
"I mean it. Let's all go for a voyage. I'd love to go round theworld."
"Nonsense! A parcel of girls in my windjammer with their frills andfurbelows--I never heard of such a thing! Ridiculous! Entirely out ofthe question!"
"Why? I don't see it," persisted Tommy. "Now, Captain Barton, don'tbe a stick-in-the-mud, but give us reasons."
"My dear, it can't be done," said the Captain emphatically.
"Of course it can't, you haven't got any," said Tommy, wilfullymisunderstanding him. "Just like a man!"
"We should really like it, Uncle," said Elizabeth.
"Can't be done, Bess," he repeated.
"But why, Uncle?" asked Mary.
"Because--because--well, for one thing I don't carry a stewardess."
"Oh, you funny old man! Bess could be stewardess. Another reason,please."
"There's no cabin fit for young ladies. It's a hard life on board,and----"
"No reason at all," interrupted Tommy. "We must learn to rough it, nowthat we've got to make our way in the world. Besides, sea-air is good;it will establish our constitutions, as the doctors say. Say yes,Uncle, there's a dear!"
"Well, well, I'll sleep on it," said the Captain, temporizing. He wasreally much perplexed and troubled. The suggestion was a preposterousone, to his old-fashioned way of thinking; but he could not findreasons that would convince these very modern nieces of his, and hehoped that they would drop the wild notion before the morning.
But when the girls had gone to bed, and he sat alone, smoking his finalpipe, he had to confess to himself that Tommy's proposal was thesimplest solution of the difficulty. It would not be an easy matter tofind comfortable quarters for the girls, but it was not impossible.Their society would be very pleasant on board; he would love to havethem with him: in short, he decided to give way. So the next morning,when they rushed at him as he entered the breakfast-room, with cries of"Uncle dear, do take us," he replied, with a mild reluctance--
"Well, well, you might do worse."
Whereupon Tommy kissed him and hugged him, calling him "Dear oldNunky," and went nearly wild with joy.
"But, mind you," he said warningly, "you mustn't expect much in the wayof comfort. The _Elizabeth_ isn't the _Lusitania_, you know. She's astight a little craft as ever sailed the seas, but she wasn't built forfirst-class passengers. You'll have to manage with a tiny cabin forall three. And I give you fair notice: I keep strict disciplineaboard. The slightest insubordination will be punished."
"And how do you punish on board ship?" asked Tommy mischievously.
"First, bread and water for a week. For the second offence, you'll belaid in irons in the hold, where you'll have no company but the rats,and they're uncommon hungry beasts, I can tell you."
"How lovely! Just like the prisoners in wicked barons' castles in theolden times," cried Tommy. "Oh, you dear silly old thing, did youthink you would frighten us?" And she gave him a hug that made him cryfor mercy.
"Now, girls, to business," he said, when order was restored. "This isWednesday. I must run up to London to-morrow to see my lawyers, sothat if anything happens to me you won't be quite unprovided for.Remember, Bess, they're Wilkins and Short, of Bedford Row. Not thatthere isn't plenty of life in the old sea-dog yet, and I hope you won'thave to see them for many a day. Now, as to clothes; no fal-lals, youknow; two serge dresses apiece, and one box for the lot of you. Idon't suppose you bargained for that."
"We shouldn't think of bringing matinee hats," said Elizabeth, laughing.
"Anything you want to keep, out of the things here, you must pack up.I dare say one of the neighbours will store it for you. I'll arrangeabout selling the rest. I'll see your landlord to-day. You will onlyhave about a fortnight to get
ready, so you'd better begin at once."
"Let's go and see Mrs. Morris," said Mary. "She'll keep our things forus."
"Won't she be surprised!" cried Tommy. "And what fun we shall have!"
The girls found their neighbour, Mrs. Morris, in the midst of herweekly baking. She declared afterwards that the surprise their newsgave her nearly "turned" the bread. She readily agreed to store theirlittle stock of personal possessions, but shook her head at the idea ofgirls wandering in heathen parts, as she put it.
