So they all give way
together, and the general effect was _non plus ultra_. There was the
cutter's innards spread out like a Fratton pawnbroker's shop; there was
the 'tiffies' hammerin' in the stern of 'er, an' _they_ ain't antiseptic;
there was the Maxim class in light skirmishin' order among the pork, an'
forrard the blacksmith had 'is forge in full blast, makin' 'orse-shoes, I
suppose. Well, that accounts for the starboard side. The on'y warrant
officer 'oo hadn't a look in so far was the Bosun. So 'e stated, all out
of 'is own 'ead, that Chips's reserve o' wood an' timber, which Chips 'ad
stole at our last refit, needed restowin'. It was on the port booms--a
young an' healthy forest of it, for Charley Peace wasn't to be named
'longside o' Chips for burglary.
"'All right,' says our Number One. 'You can 'ave the whole port watch if
you like. Hell's Hell,' 'e says, 'an when there study to improve.'
"Jarvis was our Bosun's name. He hunted up the 'ole of the port watch by
hand, as you might say, callin' 'em by name loud an' lovin', which is not
precisely Navy makee-pigeon. They 'ad that timber-loft off the booms, an'
they dragged it up and down like so many sweatin' little beavers. But
Jarvis was jealous o' Chips an' went round the starboard side to envy at
him.
"'Tain't enough,' 'e says, when he had climbed back. 'Chips 'as got his
bazaar lookin' like a coal-hulk in a cyclone.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68