Paddy Finn Part 5

The captain, taking the white yoke-lines, gave the order to shove off; the boat's head swung away from the side of the frigate; the oars fell with their blades flat on the water; and we began to glide rapidly up the harbour, propelled by the st.u.r.dy arms of the crew. I felt very proud as I looked at the captain in his c.o.c.ked hat and laced coat, and at the midshipman who accompanied him, in a bran new uniform, though, to be sure, there wasn't much of him to look at, for he was a mere mite of a fellow.

Had I not discovered that my own costume was not according to rule, I should have considered it a much more elegant one than his. After some time, the captain observing, I fancy, that I looked rather dull, having no one to talk to, said something to the midshipman, who immediately came and sat by me.

"Well, Paddy, how do you like coming to sea?" he asked in a good-natured tone.

"I've not yet formed an opinion," I answered.

"True, my boy; Cork harbour is not the Atlantic," he remarked. "We may chance to see the waves running mountains high when we get there, and all the things tumbling about like shuttlec.o.c.ks."

"I'll be content to wait until I see that same to form an opinion," I answered. "As I've come to sea, I shall be glad to witness whatever takes place there."

"You're not to be caught, I perceive," he said. "Well, Paddy, and how do you like your name?"

"Faith, I'm grateful to you and my other messmates for giving it," I answered. "I'm not ashamed of the name, and I hope to have the opportunity of making it known far and wide some day or other; and now may I ask you what's your name, for I haven't had the pleasure of hearing it."

"Thomas Pim," he answered.

"Come, that's short enough, anyhow," I observed.

"Yes; but when I first came aboard, the mess declared it was too long, so they cut off the 'h' and the 'as' and 'm' and called me Tom Pi; but even then they were not content, for they further docked it of its fair proportions, and decided that I was to be named Topi, though generally I'm called simply Pi."

"Do you mind it?" I asked.

"Not a bit," he answered. "It suits my size, I confess; for, to tell you the truth, I'm older than I look, and have been three years at sea."

"I thought you had only just joined," I remarked, for my companion was, as I have just said, a very little fellow, scarcely reaching up to my shoulder. On examining his countenance more minutely, I observed that it had a somewhat old look.

"Though I'm little I'm good, and not ashamed of my size or my name either," he said. "When bigger men are knocked over, I've a chance of escaping. I can stow myself away where others can't get in their legs; and when I go aloft or take a run on sh.o.r.e, I've less weight to carry,-- so has the steed I ride. When I go with others to hire horses, I generally manage to get the best from the stable-keeper."

"Yes, I see that you have many advantages over bigger fellows," I said.

"I'm perfectly contented with myself now I've found that out, but I confess that at first I didn't like being laughed at and having remarks made about my name and my size. I have grown slightly since then, and no one observes now that I'm an especially little fellow."

Tom spoke for some time on the same subject.

"I say, Paddy Finn, I hope you and I will be friends," he continued.

"I've heard that you Irishmen are frequently quarrelsome, but I hope you won't quarrel with me, or, for your own sake, with any of the rest of the mess. You'll gain nothing by it, as they would all turn against you to put you down."

"No fear of that," I replied, "always provided that they say nothing insulting of Ireland, or of my family or friends, or of the opinions I may hold, or take liberties which I don't like, or do anything which I consider unbecoming gentlemen."

"You leave a pretty wide door open," remarked Tom; "but, as I said before, if you don't keep the peace it will be the worse for you."

We were all this time proceeding at a rapid rate up the stream, between its wooded and picturesque banks. On arriving at Cork, the captain wished the major good-bye, saying that I must be on board again within three days, which would allow me ample time to get a proper uniform made.

I asked Tom Pim what he was going to do with himself, and proposed that, after I had been measured by the tailor, we should take a stroll together.

"Do you think the captain brought me up here for my pleasure?" he said.

"I have to stay by the boat while he's on sh.o.r.e, to see that the men don't run away. Why, if I didn't keep my eye on them, they'd be off like shots, and drunk as fiddlers by the time the captain came back."

"I'm sorry you can't come," I said. "By the bye, talking of fiddlers, will you mind taking a fiddle on board to the boy who came with me,-- Larry Harrigan? I promised to send it to him, though I didn't expect so soon to have the opportunity."

"With the greatest pleasure in the world," said Tom Pim. "Perhaps I may take a sc.r.a.pe on it myself. When I was a little fellow, I learned to play it."

"You must have been a very little fellow," I couldn't help remarking, though Tom didn't mind it.

As our inn was not far off, I asked my uncle to let me run on and get the fiddle, and take it down to the boat. As I carried it along, I heard people making various remarks, evidently showing that they took me for a musician or stage-player, which made me more than ever anxious to get out of a costume which I had once been so proud of wearing. Having delivered the violin in its case to Tom Pim, who promised to convey it to Larry, I rejoined my uncle.

We proceeded at once to the tailor recommended by Captain Macnamara, who, having a pattern, promised to finish my uniform in time, and to supply all the other articles I required. We spent the few days we were in Cork in visiting some old friends of the major's.

I was very anxious about the non-appearance of my chest, but the night before I was to go on board, to my great satisfaction, it arrived.

"It's a good big one, at all events," I thought; "it will hold all the things I want, and some curiosities I hope to bring back from foreign parts."

It was capable of doing so, for although it might have been somewhat smaller than the one in which the bride who never got out again hid away, it was of magnificent proportions, solid as oak and iron clamps could make it; it was big enough to hold half-a-dozen of my smaller brothers and sisters, who used to stow themselves away in it when playing hide-and-seek about the house.

Soon after the chest arrived the tailor brought my uniform.

It certainly was a contrast to the comical suit I had hitherto been wearing. I put it on with infinite satisfaction, and girded to my side a new dirk, which my uncle had given me, instead of my grandfather's old sword. The latter, however, my uncle recommended me to take on board.

"You may want it, Terence, maybe on some cutting-out expedition," he said; "and you'll remember that it belonged to your ancestors, and make it do its duty."

As the chest was already full, I had a difficulty in stowing away the things the tailor had brought. I therefore began to unpack it while he was waiting, and I observed that he cast a look of supreme contempt on most of the articles it contained. He even ventured to suggest that he should be allowed to replace them with others which he could supply.

"The boy has enough and to spare, and I should like to know how many of them will find their way back to Cork," said my uncle.

Some of them I found, on consideration, that I should be as well without. Among other things were a pair of thick brogues, which Molly the cook had put in to keep my feet from the wet deck, and a huge cake; this, though, I guessed would not be sneered at in the mess, and would travel just as well outside. At length I found room for everything I required, and the chest was once more locked and corded.

I don't believe I slept a wink that night with thinking of what I should do when I got on board the frigate. It was a satisfaction to remember that the ice had been broken, and that I should not appear as a perfect stranger amongst my messmates. I already knew Tom Pim, and he had told me the names of several others, among whom were those of Jack Nettleship the old mate and caterer of the mess, d.i.c.k Sinnet the senior midshipman, Sims the purser's clerk, and Donald McPherson the a.s.sistant-surgeon.

The others I could not remember. The lieutenants, he said, were very nice fellows, though they had their peculiarities. None of the officers were Irishmen, consequently I had been dubbed Paddy.

CHAPTER SIX.

I COMMENCE MY NAVAL CAREER.

The morning came. My chest and my other strat things had been carried down in a cart to the river, where they were shipped on board a sh.o.r.e-boat. As we walked along following it, my uncle, after being silent for a minute, as if considering how he should address me, said: "You have got a new life before you, away from friends, among all sorts of characters,--some good, it may be, many bad or indifferent, but no one probably on whom you may rely. You will be placed in difficult, often in dangerous situations, when you'll have only yourself, or Him who orders all things, to trust to. Be self-reliant; ever strive to do your duty; and don't be after troubling yourself about the consequences.

You will be engaged in scenes of warfare and bloodshed. I have taken part in many such, and I know their horrors. War is a stern necessity.

May you never love it for itself; but when fighting, comport yourself like a man fearless of danger, while you avoid running your head needlessly into it. Be courteous and polite, slow to take offence,-- especially when no offence is intended, as is the case in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred where quarrels occur. Remember that it always takes two to make a quarrel, and that the man who never gives offence will seldom get into one. Never grumble; be cheerful and obliging.

Never insist on your own rights when those rights are not worth insisting on. Sacrifice your own feelings to those of others, and be ever ready to help a companion out of a difficulty. You may be surprised to hear me--an old soldier and an Irishman--talking in this way; but I give you the advice, because I have seen so many act differently, and, wrapped up in intense selfishness, become utterly regardless of others,--reaping the consequences by being disliked and neglected, and finally deserted by all who were their friends. There's another point I must speak to you about, and it's a matter which weighs greatly on my mind. Example, they say, is better than precept. Now your father has set you a mighty bad example, and so have many others who have come to the castle. Don't follow it. You see the effect which his potations of rum shrub and whisky-toddy have produced on him. When I was on duty, or going on it, I never touched liquor; and no man ever lost his life from my carelessness, as I have seen the lives of many poor soldiers thrown away when their officers, being drunk, have led them into useless danger. So I say, Terence, keep clear of liquor. The habit of drinking grows on a man, and in my time I have seen it the ruin of many as fine young fellows as ever smelt powder."

I thanked my uncle, and promised as far as I could to follow his excellent advice.

As we reached the water-side, my uncle stopped, and putting one hand on my shoulder and taking mine with the other, looked me kindly in the face.

"Fare thee well, Terence, my boy," he said; "we may not again meet on earth, but wherever you go, an old man's warmest affection follows you.

Be afraid of nothing but doing wrong. If your life is spared, you'll rise in the profession you have chosen, second only in my opinion to that of the army."