“Give it up Dolly Doodles. Reckon you happened to value that five dollars more than you did us, just about then. And you might as well have ‘let him go’ since he went anyhow and our precious purses with him. Now, honey, you quit. Don’t you say another single word of what has happened but let’s just think of all the nice things that are going to happen. Ah! Hold up your head, put on all your ‘style,’ make yourself as pretty as you can, for here comes that adorable young bugler and he’s perfectly enchanting! Oh! I do so love boys! Don’t you?”
“Molly Breckenridge, stop making me giggle. He’ll think we’re laughing at him and I don’t like to hurt anybody’s feelings.”
“My dear innocent! You couldn’t hurt his. Why, Papa says that all the passengers try to make a pet of that sweet youth, so he knows he’s all right no matter who laughs. The trouble is he’ll never speak to anybody if he can help it and unless it happens to be his duty. Sailors are great for ‘duty,’ you know. But did you ever see such funny clothes?”
The girls continued their walk around the deck, the bugler passed them by, unseeing—apparently; and quoth mischievous Molly:
“I’m going to get acquainted with that Melvin before we leave this ship, see if I don’t! I believe he has a lot of fun in him, if he wasn’t afraid of his ‘duty.’ Papa said he was the only son of his mother and their home is at Yarmouth. Papa met her last summer when he stopped there for a few weeks’ fishing. I’ll make him understand I’m my father’s daughter; you see!”
“Molly Breckenridge, you’ll do nothing to disgrace that father, understand me too. Here comes ‘Number Eight.’ Isn’t he funny?”
To their unaccustomed eyes the sailor’s clothing did look odd. The Judge had explained to Molly that these “numbered” officials were recognized by their numbers only. That they acted in various capacities; as table-waiters, and especially as “chamber maids.” Each “number” had his own section of staterooms to attend, each one his especial table to serve in the dining saloon.
In a natural reaction from their anxiety of the earlier day the spirits of both girls had risen proportionately. They were ready to see humor in everything and poor Number Eight came in for his share of absurd comment, when he had passed out of hearing.
“He’s such a big, red-faced, red-haired man, and his jacket is so little. Looks as if his arms and shoulders had just been squeezed into it by some machine. Did you notice his monstrous trousers? Enough in them to piece out the jacket, I should think, and never be missed. All these Numbers are dressed alike; little bit o’ coaties, divided skirts for panties, and such dudish little caps! Who wouldn’t be a sailor on the bright blue sea, if he could wear clothes cut that fashion? ‘A life on the ocean wave,’” she quoted. “‘A home on the rolling deep—’”
“‘Where the scattered waters rave. And the winds their revels keep. The wi-i-inds their r-r-r-ev-el-s-s k-e-e-e-ep!’” A rich voice had caught the burden of Molly’s song and finished it with an absurd flourish.