“W’y,” he chuckled, “that beats the speckled Jews!”
“It does indeed,” answered Dicky as he thrust his tongue knowingly into his cheek; “but I’ll say hooray for one British officer—hooray for General Prescott!—and I’m glad I give him his breeches!”
CHAPTER IX.
DICKY ENLISTS.
A time came, though, when Newport was evacuated by the British—and on that glorious day there were no happier souls than Dicky Stubbs and Jack Bell. Among the great events was the sailing in to Newport of the small squadron which made the beginning of the American navy. To Jack Bell’s patriotic eyes they were the handsomest ships he had ever seen in his life.
Jack and Dicky stood on the highest point of the rocky shores of Newport and watched with rapture the coming of the little squadron of five vessels which, though small and lightly armed, were yet to give a noble account of themselves.
“Boy!” shouted Jack Bell as he gripped Dicky by the collar, “d’ye see them ships? They ain’t big, and they ain’t got nothin’ in ’em heavier ’n a twelve pounder—but they’ve got hearts of oak—and let me tell you, boy, it’s the kind of heart you’ve got, as mostly settles whether you’re goin’ to take a lickin’ or give one, in a fight.”
Dicky showed his appreciation of this sentiment by bawling out “Hooray!” as loud as he could—but as he had been “hooraying” pretty steadily for forty-eight hours past, his voice was somewhat cracked. Dicky, however, was still capable of making a good deal of patriotic noise.
The shores were black with shouting crowds, and the American sailors and soldiers received a greeting that made them sure of their welcome. Dicky ran about all day long, sang all his rebel songs to listening crowds, and refused to accept a penny for his singing. At night when he reached home, tired, hungry, sleepy, and hoarse, but perfectly happy, he said to his mother as he marched in: “Mammy, I ain’t got any money for you—I couldn’t take it on a day like this—and I’ve sung the Bunker Hill song and the General Prescott song and all the patriotic songs I know—and I never had such a good time in my life!”
“I know it, my boy,” said the Widow Stubbs, “and I’m glad you didn’t take any money for singing on this glorious day.”
The very next morning the inevitable occurred. Dicky announced that he meant to enlist as a seaman apprentice in the American navy. His mother turned a little pale but said no word. She was a brave woman and a sensible one, too; and she saw that Dicky’s taste for a sea life was so strong that, if balked of it, he would probably never be of much account in any other calling. Jack Bell gave him one of those friendly thwacks that almost knocked him down.