Chapter Fifty Six.
An anticipated dinner—All the enjoyment spoiled by the first cut—A suit of clothes ill-suited for wearing—And Joshua Daunton trying on a pair of iron leggings—More easily put on than shaken off.
This imp, this Flibbertygibbet, was killing us by inches. At length, one of the master’s mates, no longer being able to starve quietly and philosophically, as became a man of courage, was again determined, by one last effort, to dine, and breakfast, and sup, in the captain’s cabin and ward-room as often as he could. So, finding that there was enough new blue cloth on board, with buttons, etcetera, to make him a complete suit, he purchased them at an enormous price, on credit; and set the ship’s tailors to work incontinently. By this time, we were, with our homeward-bound convoy, on the banks of Newfoundland. It was misty and cold—and we were chilly and ragged. In such a conjuncture of circumstances, even the well-clothed may understand what a blessing a new suit of warm blue must be—that suit bearing in its suite a long line of substantial breakfasts, dinners, and suppers. All this was about to be Mr Pigtop’s, our kind messmate, and respectable mate of the orlop deck. He had already begun to protest upon the unreasonableness of rotatory coats, or of having a quarter-deck pair of trousers, like the wives of the ancient Britons, common to the sept. The ungrateful rogue! He had on, at the very time, the only quarter-deck-going coat among us, which was mine, and which he had just borrowed to enable him to go on deck, and report everything right below.
“Captain Reud’s compliments to Mr Pigtop, and would be glad of his company to dinner.”
Angelic words, when the invited reefer has a clean shirt, or collar, and a decent uniform.
“‘Mr Pigtop’s compliments to Captain Reud, and will be most happy to wait on him.’ There, you dogs,” said the elated Pigtop, “I say no more lending of clothes. Here, you, Josh, jump forward, and tell the tailor I must have my uniform by four bells.”
Josh jumped forward with a very intelligent grin upon his tallow-complexioned but handsome countenance.
Now, the captain and ward-room officers all knew very well of the unaccountable destruction of our clothes, which, they affected to believe, was not unaccountable to them. They said it arose from very natural causes; a little of which was to be ascribed to dampness, a little to the cockroaches, and a great, a very great deal to our proverbial carelessness. Well. A midshipman careless! But some people may libel with impunity. Whatever they thought, they enjoyed our dilemmas, both of food and of clothing.