The Old Tobacco Shop

The Cabin-boy plucked Freddie's sleeve. "I've done it. You'll s-s-s-see! Won't that M-m-marmaduke and that M-m-m-mizzen sing another tune when they f-f-f-find out?" Freddie looked at him in amazement; but the Able Seaman was commencing the third verse of his song:

"When I was older, and bold as you please,
I shipped on the good ship Firkin of Cheese,
For a v'yage of discovery in the far South Seas,
To gather up a cargo of ambergris
That grows in a cave on the amber trees
Where the medicine men, all fine M.D.'s,
For the sake of the usual medical fees,
Crawl in by night on their hands and knees
In a strictly ethical manner to seize
The amber fruit that is used to grease
The itching palm in Shekel's Disease, —
On a long long v'yage, as busy as bees,
Never stopping for a moment to take our ease,
Never changing our course, except when the breeze
Took to blowing to windward, – we had slipped by degrees
Down the oozy slopes of the Hebrides,
And passed through the locks of the Florida Keys,
Which in getting through was a rather tight squeeze,
But danger is nothing to men like these,
When suddenly the lookout, a Portuguese
Who had better been below a-shelling peas,
Shrieked out, 'They are coming! By twos and threes!
On the starboard bow! We are lost! – "

"We're lost! we're lost! we're lost!" came a terrible cry from the forward part of the ship, as if in echo of Mr. Mizzen's song. "We're lost! The dippers! The dippers!"

Everyone jumped up, even Aunt Amanda. The Cabin-boy whispered in Freddie's ear, in great excitement, "N-n-n-now you'll s-see!"

A man came running down the deck, followed by all the skippers and mates. As he halted before Mr. Mizzen, he was evidently the Cook, by the white cook's cap he wore on his head. He took off his cap and wiped his forehead with his hand. He was in a state of mixed alarm and anger.

"We're lost!" he cried, and actually tore his hair with his hands. "It's that rascally Cabin-boy! The dippers is gone! Every last one of them! And the ship leakin' by the barrelful! Let me get at that boy once, and I'll learn him! Fryin' on a slow fire would be too good for him! Swore he'd get even, he did, and now he's gone and done it! Stole all the dippers – he's the one that done it, you can bet your last biscuit! There ain't a dipper left in the ship, and the water pourin' in by the barrelful! I just found it out, while them lazy skippers and mates was lying around doing nothing! Gimme one sea-cook for all the skippers on the ocean, that's what I say! Every last dipper gone! gone! We're lost!"

Everyone looked around for the Cabin-boy. He was nowhere to be seen, but his laugh was heard overhead, and his face was then seen looking down from the rigging just above.

"I've d-d-d-done it," he cried, shrieking with laughter. "I'm even with you n-n-n-n-now! M-m-m-m-mizzen he l-l-l-learned the parrot to m-m-m-mock me, he did, and Cook he b-b-b-basted me in the g-g-g-galley all the t-t-t-t-time, and now I'm e-e-e-even with all of 'em. They ain't g-g-g-going to t-t-t-torment me no m-m-m-m-more! I stole the dippers and th-th-th-threw 'em overboard, every last one of 'em, and n-n-n-now you're g-g-g-going to s-s-sink, sink, si-i-ink, d-d-d-down, down, d-d-d-down, to the bottom of the – bottom of the s-s-s-sea!"

He laughed louder than before, and the angry Cook sprang forward to climb up after him, but just then the ship gave a violent lurch backwards, nearly upsetting everyone, and settled down by the stern, so that that end of the boat was completely under water.

Aunt Amanda screamed. Toby and Mr. Punch came to her at once and supported her on each side. There was a great hubbub. Everyone tried to speak at once. Freddie felt his hand grasped in the strong hand of Mr. Toby, and he began to feel somewhat less afraid. Over the hubbub could be heard the Cabin-boy's wild laugh.

"Everybody quiet!" shouted Mr. Mizzen. "We must think what we had better do."

"Yes, yes," cried a number of voices. "What are we going to do?"

"I wish," said Mr. Mizzen, thoughtfully, "I wish we had thought to bring a rowboat with us."

"What!" cried Aunt Amanda. "Do you mean to tell me that you came away on this long journey without an extra boat?"

"We didn't think of it," said Mr. Mizzen. "We had plenty of dippers, and we never thought of anybody's throwing them overboard."

"No! no!" cried all the skippers and mates together. "We never thought of that!"

"Then bring out the life-preservers at once!" said Aunt Amanda. "And be quick about it!"

"We haven't any," said Mr. Mizzen. "What would have been the use of life-preservers if the dippers were all on board? We never thought we would need them."

"No! no!" cried all the skippers and mates together. "We never thought of that!"

"Then think of something now," said Aunt Amanda. "Don't you see the ship's settling deeper in the water?"

The ship was in fact deeper in the water. It was sinking rapidly. The deck began to list so much towards the stern that it was difficult to stand on it. The ship was making no headway whatever. The breeze was even lighter than before, and the sails were hanging limp. It would have taken a stiff wind indeed to have moved that water-logged boat; and it lay as if moored to a float, going up and down heavily in the long swell.

"Do you – er – think," said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, "that we are in – er – danger?"

"Danger!" cried Aunt Amanda. "Something must be done! Are you going to let us drown without turning a hand?"

"There's only one thing to do," said Mr. Mizzen, "and I don't know whether it will work or not; but we can try it. Boys, bring up all the mattresses from the cabins, and a coil of rope! Look alive, now!"

The skippers and mates ran off in great haste and disappeared down the hatchways. In a few minutes they had laid on the deck a great pile of mattresses. While this was being done, Aunt Amanda, whose bonnet and shawl had been brought to her by one of the men, tied her bonnet-strings under her chin and put her shawl about her shoulders, in readiness for departure.

"Now then," said Mr. Mizzen, "lash the mattresses together."

The men proved themselves very handy with ropes. With Mr. Mizzen's help, they lashed together securely a good number of the mattresses, and the first result of their work was a mattress raft some fifteen feet square, and some four or five feet thick. A supply of oil-cloth was found in the store-room, and this was bound by ropes all over and under and around the raft.

"I don't know whether it will do," said Mr. Mizzen, "but anyway there's nothing else that will do. Now, lads, over the side with her!"

All the men lent a hand, and the mattress raft was hoisted over the side and on to the water. To the satisfaction of everyone, it floated there quietly and easily, with its top well above the surface of the sea.

"Lucky it's a smooth sea," said Mr. Mizzen. "We ought to be pleased with the state of the weather; couldn't be better; I feel quite joyful about it."

"Oh, you do," said Aunt Amanda. "Well, I don't feel joyful about it. What next?"

"Put the provisions aboard," said the Able Seaman; whereupon some of the men placed on the raft a small barrel of water and some tins of meat, soup, biscuit, and other things.

"If you please," said Mr. Mizzen, when this had been done, "I think the passengers had better get aboard. When you're aboard, we'll make another raft for ourselves. Are you ready?"

The passengers were helped aboard the raft, one after another. Although the raft bobbed up and down on the swell, it was not a difficult matter for the men and the boy to get on, for it was held fast against the side of the ship at a point where it was about even with the deck-rail. Freddie gave a good spring, and was on in no time; Mr. Hanlon, who did not seem in the least uneasy, got aboard with the agility of a cat; there was no trouble with anyone except Aunt Amanda, whose lameness impeded her movements a good deal.

As the Sly Old Fox, with his high silk hat on his head, was about to step over the side, he turned and said:

"I feel it my duty, Mr. Mizzen, to register a complaint against the outrageous treatment to which we are being subjected. I submit under protest, sir; under protest. If I had for one moment imagined – "

"Oh bosh," said Toby. "Push him over, Mizzen." And the Sly Old Fox was in fact somewhat rudely pushed over on to the raft.

None of the others made any objection. Mr. Punch, who usually talked a good deal, was noticeably silent; and when Toby offered him a hand to help him over, he said stiffly:

"Hi thank you sir, but I do not require any hassistance."