Apropos of this class of grumbler, an amusing story was once told me by the captain of a P. and O. It was in the days that the skipper “messed” the passengers, and it was this officer’s habit to have a saucerful of porridge every morning about seven on the bridge.
The feeding on a P. and O. is proverbially liberal, yet not content with the enormous breakfast provided, certain grumblers complained that considering the price they paid they surely were entitled to porridge. Inwardly chuckling, the skipper reluctantly consented, with the result (as he told me) that instead of devouring two mutton chops, eggs, and marmalade ad libitum at eight, he was a considerable gainer by the satisfying effect of two-pennyworth of porridge at seven.
During my two years at Gibraltar cholera appeared, and anything more terrible than such a visitation in such a circumscribed spot can hardly be conceived. With a strict “cordon” established, there was no getting away from it, and men who the night before were in rude health were often buried at gun-fire.
To be afraid of it was tantamount (so doctors asserted) to courting it, and so regimental bands were ordered to play daily on the Alameda by way of diverting the public mind, and not a drum was heard at the numerous military funerals that wended their way towards the north front.
By night the “corpse-lights” over the burial ground emitted a weird glow, and many a subaltern visiting the sentries before daylight would shiver and his teeth rattle as he skirted the unearthly illumination.
To such an extent did downright funk seize upon some that an officer now living in London—a C.B. of overwhelming interest—asked everybody the best preventive, and jokes were indulged in at his expense, and he swallowed tablespoonfuls of salt and raw porpoise liver, as this or the other prescribed.
Distracted, one afternoon he sought consolation by proceeding to the house of a fair scorpion (persons born on the Rock) he had known in happier days, and literally collapsed as he met her coffin emerging from her door.
Apropos of this terrible scourge, an instance that many can vouch for occurred some years previously in India.
My regiment was being decimated by cholera, and corpses were hurriedly placed in an outhouse that was infested with rats.
The sentries had orders to periodically tap with their rifles on the door, and on one occasion tapping too hard, the door opened, and the Armourer Sergeant, who had been brought in a few hours previously, was seen sitting up on the trestle.