CHAPTER XXIX.
MR. TOOSYPEGS IN DISTRESS AGAIN.
The time I’ve lost in wooing, In watching and pursuing The light that lies in woman’s eyes, Has been my heart’s undoing. Though wisdom oft has sought me, I scorned the love she brought me; My only books were woman’s looks. And folly’s all they’ve taught me. —Moore.
Admiral Harry Havenful sat alone in the parlor of the White Squall, the heels of his boots elevated on the knobs of the andirons, his chair tipped back to that sublime angle which women admire, but men only understand. A long meerschaum, with an amber mouth-piece, protruded from his lips, while whiffs of blue, vapory smoke curled from the corner of his mouth; his hands stuck in his trousers pockets, and his eyes fixed admiringly on the pink and yellow ship-of-war on the mantel. Admiral Harry Havenful was enjoying life hugely on a small scale, when a dispirited knock, such as moneyless debtors give, was heard at the outer door.
“Tumble up, below there! tumble up, ahoy-y-y!” roared the admiral, taking the pipe from his mouth to summon the servants.
In compliance with this zephyr-like request, one of the darkeys “tumbled up,” accordingly, and on opening the door, Mr. O. C. Toosypegs stalked in, and with the head of his cane in his mouth, entered the parlor and presented himself to the jolly little admiral.
“D’ye do, Orlando? give us your flipper,” said the admiral, protruding one huge hand without rising, or even turning his head, merely casting a glance over his shoulder, and smoking on as placidly as before.
“I’m very well—that is, I ain’t very well at all, Admiral Havenful, I’m very much obliged to you,” said Mr. Toosypegs, grasping the huge hand and wriggling it faintly a second or two. “My health ain’t so good as it might be, and I don’t expect it ever will be again, but I’m resigned to that and everything else that may happen. It’s nasty to be always complaining, you know, Admiral Havenful.”
“That’s so,” growled the admiral, in a tone so deeply bass that it was quite startling.
“Therefore, Admiral Havenful, though I ain’t so well as I might be, I’m very well indeed, I’m very much obliged to you. It must be nice to die and have no more bother—don’t you think so, Admiral Havenful?” said Mr. Toosypegs, with a groan so deep that the admiral took his pipe from his mouth and stared at him.
“What now?” grunted the admiral, who foresaw something was coming; “heave to!”