The Merryweathers Part 7

"There isn't any use in talking to Mammy when she does that way!" said w.i.l.l.y, half to himself, but with a side glance at Kitty. "If she would have only listened to me--"

"She never will!" said Kitty, responding to the half glance. "She always says there is no need of quarrelling, and she doesn't see why she should have to hear disagreeable remarks."

"Other children sc.r.a.p," said w.i.l.l.y. "I don't see why we can't now and then."

"Well, she just won't have it, Will, so where's the use? Never mind about the Rangeley; you may have it, and I'll take the _Wobbler_."

"I don't care!" said w.i.l.l.y. "You may have her."

"So may you!"

Silence. w.i.l.l.y rubbing his shoulders, Kitty kicking her bit of stick.

Presently Kitty looked up brightly, and shook her curls back. "I've got over mine, w.i.l.l.y!" she announced. "Are you getting over yours?"

"Ye-es!" said w.i.l.l.y, slowly. "I--s'pose I am."

"Why don't we go together?" asked Kitty. "Then we can both have the Rangeley."

"All right!" said w.i.l.l.y, brightening at once. "Where shall we go? We might play Pirate a bit--"

"And then go for the milk! That would be great!"

"All right, come on, Kit."

"Oh! but, w.i.l.l.y--"

"Well?"

"We must go and tell Mammy first."

Once more the two children presented themselves before their mother, who was still writing busily. At the first "Mammy!" she looked up quickly.

"Well, dears!" she said, "I was wondering where you were. What are you going to play this afternoon?"

"We thought perhaps we might have the Rangeley together, and play Pirate!" said w.i.l.l.y.

"And then go for the milk!" said Kitty.

"To be sure!" said Mrs. Merryweather. "Yes, Papa said you might have the boat if you wanted it. That will be very nice, only be careful, dears.

Give Mammy a kiss, and have a great good time."

"Run her up!" said the Pirate Captain.

"Ay, ay, sir!" replied the mate.

The Jolly Roger fluttered up to the mast-head: skull and crossbones black as ink could make them, ground very nearly white; it was a splendid flag. The Captain was a terrible figure, clad in yellow oilskins many sizes too big for him, with ferocious mustaches curling up to his eyes. His belt contained a perfect armory of weapons; item, a pistol that had lost its barrel; item, three wooden daggers, a.s.sorted sizes; item, one tomahawk, home-made. The mate was scarcely less terrifying, for though a blue petticoat showed beneath his oilskin jacket, and curls flowed from under his sou'wester, he made up for it by a ma.s.s of oak.u.m beard and whisker that was truly awe-inspiring. Also, he had the truncheon which used to be a curling stick, and a deadly weapon of singular appearance which was understood to be a boomerang.

"Look out, Bill! avast there! dost see any foes about?"

"Ay, ay, sir! I see a craft on the jib boom--"

"_Lee bow_, Kitty!--I mean Bill; not jib boom! You are always saying that."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "''TIS NOT A PLATE SHIP!'"]

"I meant lee bow!" said Bill, anxious to please. "Anyhow, I see a craft, your Honor. I think she is a plate ship from the Spanish Main. Shall we run her down?"

"Give me the gla.s.s!" exclaimed the Pirate Captain: and through that instrument, which the ignorant might have mistaken for a battered tin horn, he scrutinized the "craft," which lay on the water at some distance.

"'Tis not a plate ship!" he announced at length. "I think we have had enough plate ships lately. This is a Dutch lugger from Samarcand, laden with raisins and fig-paste and lichi nuts and cream dates. I shouldn't wonder if she had narghiles too, and scimitars,--I need a new scimitar,--and all sorts of things. Up helm, and crowd on all sail in pursuit!"

"Ay, ay, sir! stunsels?"

"Stunsels, balloon-jibs, topgallant spinnakers, royal skysc.r.a.pers, everything you can think of. Ha! we are off! Row hard now, Bill! The lubbers are asleep, and we shall run them down easily. Are the cutla.s.ses ready?"

"Ay, ay, sir!"

"Ho! we are gaining on them. Ho, ho! bend to your oars, my hearties!

grappling-chains ready there! ho! on to the chase!"

Now Phil was very busy making a fly for lake trout, and explaining the manufacture of it to Peggy; and Peggy was absorbed in watching him, and in counting the number of separate aches she felt after her first lesson in rowing. Moreover, the b.l.o.o.d.y pirates had conducted their conversation in a half-whisper, and the wind was the other way. But suddenly, Peggy looked up and saw them, now at only a few yards distance.

"Good gracious!" she cried. "What is it? Do look, Phil!"

Phil looked hastily around; chuckled, and fell into an att.i.tude of abject terror. "Mercy! mercy!" he cried; cowering down in his seat.

("It's the kids; please be frightened!) Oh! what will become of us? We are lost!"

"Oh! save me, spare me!" cried Peggy, following suit, and clasping her hands in supplication.

The pirate bark ran alongside, and grappling-irons were tossed aboard the ill-fated merchantman. The Pirate Captain, standing in the stern of his vessel, surveyed them with baleful looks.

"What ship is this?"

"The _Weeping Woodchuck_, Captain Zebedee Moses of Squedunk, please your Honor's Worship!"

"Well I am Captain England, and this is the _Gory Griffin_. If you have a cargo of raisins and fig-paste and cream dates, hand them over; otherwise, prepare to walk the plank this instant!"

"Oh, spare us! spare this tender maiden!" cried Phil. "I have no fig-paste, but wouldn't fresh doughnuts do as well, O man of blood?

Life is sweet--and fish is needed for supper!"

At these remarks the pirate's ferocious scowl relaxed somewhat. "Hand over your doughnuts!" he said, briefly. "This once I spare ye, but cross not my path again! I jolly well forgot about tea," he added, as Phil tossed him some doughnuts; "I suppose it must be about time to go for the milk, perhaps, is it?"

Phil looked at his watch. "Well, I should say it jolly well was!" he replied. "You'd better be off, young ones--I mean Scourges of the Deep!"