A consultation was at once held, and it was resolved to march forth to meet them.
“It is Neptune, I know,” said McBain, “for a snowbird this morning brought me a note to say he’d dine with us.”
It wasn’t long before our friends came in sight of the royal party. It was Neptune, sure enough, trident and all, both his trident and he looking as large as life.—He was drawn along in a sledge by a party of naiads, and Amazon jades they looked. On one side of him walked his wife, on the other the Cock o’ the North, while behind him came the barber carrying an immense razor and a bucket of lather. Silas Grig, I may as well mention, played Neptune, and Seth his wife—and a taller, skinnier, bristlier old lady you couldn’t have imagined; and her attempts to act the lady of fashion, and her airs and graces, were really funny. The Cock o’ the North was Ted Wilson. He was dressed in feathers from top to toe, with an immense bill, comb, and wattles, and acted his part well. He was introduced by Neptune as—
“One who ne’er has been to school,
But keeps us fat—in fact, our fool;
A fool, forsooth, yet full of wit
As he can stand, or lie, or sit.”
After the usual introduction, salaams, and courtesies, Neptune made his speech in doggerel verse, with many an interruption both from his wife and his fool, telling how “his name was Neptune”—“though it might be Norval,” added the Cock o’ the North. How—
“From east to west, from pole to pole,
Where’er waves break or waters roll,
My empire is—”
His Wife—“And you belong to me.”
Cock o’ the North.—“All hail, great monarch of the sea!”
Neptune—“The clouds pay tribute, and streams and rills
Come singing from the distant hills.”
His Wife.—“Do stop, my dear; you’re not a poet,
And never were—”
Neptune.—“Good sooth, I know it.
But now lead on, our blood feels cold,
For truth to tell, we’re getting old.
We and our wife have seen much service,
Besides—the dear old thing is nervous,
So to the ship lead on, I say,
We’d see some fun on this auspicious day.
My younger sons I fain would bless ’em.”
His Barber.—“And I can shave.”
His Wife (rapturously).—“And I can kiss ’em.”
The six poor lads who were to be operated on, and whose only fault was that they had never before crossed the line, trembled in their prison as they heard the big guns thunder forth, announcing the arrival of King Neptune. They trembled more when, dressed in white, they were led forth, a pair at a time, and seated blindfolded on the chair of the terrible tub, and duly shaved and blessed and kissed; but they trembled most when the bolt was drawn, and they tumbled head foremost into the icy water; but when, about twenty minutes thereafter, they were seen seated in a row in dry, warm clothing, you would not have known them for the same boys. Their faces were beaming with smiles, and each one busied himself discussing a huge basin of savoury sea-pie. They were not trembling then at all.
At the dinner which followed, Neptune took the head of the table, with his wife on his right and McBain himself as vice-president. The dinner was good even for the Arrandoon, and that is saying a deal. In size, in odour, and beauty of rotundity, the plum-pudding that two stalwart men carried in and placed in front of Neptune, was something to remember for ever and a day. Size? Why, Neptune could have served it out with his trident. Ay! and everybody had two helps, and looked all the healthier and happier after them.
Our three chief heroes were in fine form, Rory in one of his funniest, happiest moods. And why not? Had not he dubbed himself Queen o’ the May? Yes, and well he sustained the part.
I am not sure how Neptune managed to possess himself of so many bottles of Silas Grig’s green ginger, but there they were, and they went all round the table, and even the men of the crew seemed to prefer it to rum. The toasts given by the men were not a few, and all did honour to the manliness of their hearts. The songs sung ere the table was cleared were all well worth listening to, though some were ballads of extreme length.