Freddie found no one in the Tobacco Shop, so he knocked on the door of the back room, and it was instantly opened by Mr. Littleback himself; but a Mr. Littleback so resplendent that Freddie hardly knew him.
The suit of clothes which Mr. Littleback wore was beyond any doubt a brand new suit. The ground color of it was a rich mauve, if you know what that is; not exactly purple, nor violet, but somewhere in between; and up and down and across were stripes of brown, making good-sized squares all over him; it was extremely beautiful. His collar was a high white collar, very stiff, and it held up his chin in front like a whitewashed fence. His necktie was of a pale-blue satin, with little pink roses painted on it, yes sir, painted! mind you, by hand! It was not one of those troublesome things that come in a single long piece and take you hours before the glass to twist and turn over and under before you can get them to look like a necktie; no indeed; it was far better than that; it was tied already, by somebody who could do it better than you ever could, and when you bought it, all you had to do was to put it on; fasten those two rubber bands behind with a hook, and there you were; perfect. As to hair, the hand of the barber was yet upon him; his hair, parted on one side, was of a slickness which his own soap never could have accomplished; on the wide side, it lay flat down over his forehead, and there gave a sudden curl backward, like the curve of a hairpin,but much more graceful; it is only the most studious barbers who ever learn to do it just right. There were creases down the arms of Mr. Toby's coat and down the front of his trouser-legs. A yellow silk handkerchief showed itself, not boldly, but quietly, from his breast pocket.
As he let Freddie in, and in doing so turned his back to Aunt Amanda, she screamed and cried out:
"Toby! Look behind you! Merciful heavens!"
Freddie, in the midst of his admiration of the magnificent creature, saw him whirl about and look behind himself in alarm. His aunt pointed at his coat and said sternly, "Come here."
Freddie saw on the back of Mr. Toby's coat, near the bottom, as he whirled about, a little square white tag.
Mr. Toby backed up to his aunt, and stood before her, trying to look at his back over his shoulder, while she took her scissors and clipped the threads by which the white tag was sewed to the back of his coat. She held up the tag; it had numbers printed and written on it.
"Now ain't that just like you, Toby Littleback," she said, "going out with your tag on your back, with your size on it and your height and age, too, for all I know, for anybody to see that you've got on a splittin' brand new suit right out o' the shop. If you'd 'a' gone out with that on your back, I'd 'a' died with shame right here in this chair. Ain't you even able to dress yourself?"
"By crickets, thatwould'a' been bad," said Toby, considerably upset. "However, you caught it in time, so there ain't no use cryin' over it. Good-bye, Aunt; come along, Freddie, or we'll be late."
"Ain't you goin' to wear a hat?" said Aunt Amanda. "I declare the man's so excited he don't know what he's doing."
"Blamed if I didn't come near going without a hat," said Toby. "Here she is."
He produced his hat from a cupboard in the room, and put it on. It would have been a pity indeed for him to have gone without it. It was a white derby; yes, awhitederby. It was the kind of a hat which was known in that city as a "pinochle"; pronounced "pea-knuckle" by all well-informed boys. With the mauve suit and the hand-painted necktie and the whitewashed fence, the white derby set him off to perfection, especially as he wore it a little towards the back of his head, so as to show the loveliest part of the plastered curl of his hair on the forehead. Aunt Amanda could not restrain her admiration.
"You'll do now," she said. "I don't know that I ever seen you look so genteel before."
Toby, in the embarrassment of being considered genteel, put his hands in his trousers pockets.
"Take them hands out of your pockets," said Aunt Amanda sharply, and he took them out in a hurry.
"Now, Freddie," she said, "come here a minute, and I'll set you to rights."
Freddie stood before her knee, not very willingly, and she buttoned his jacket from top to bottom, and put his cap squarely on his head.
"Now you'd better be off," she said.
"Good-bye, Aunt, and I wish you were going too," said Toby, his hand on the door-knob.
"Good-bye, Freddie," said she.
"Good-bye," said Freddie.
"Good-bye what?" said she.
"Aunt Amanda," said he.
When they were out in the street, and she heard Toby lock the shop door behind him, she took out her handkerchief and blew her nose; her cold was evidently worse, because she blew her nose several times; and then, tucking her handkerchief away in herdress, she put her head down on her arm on the table, and cried.
The first thing Freddie did, as they went up the street, was to put his cap back again on the back of his head, and the next thing he did was to unbutton every button of his jacket, from top to bottom.
The little hunchback was in a great hurry, and he dragged the Little Boy along by the hand so fast that he could hardly keep up. As they hurried along, several naughty boys, observing Mr. Toby's white derby hat, called after him, very rudely, "Pea-knuckle! pea-knuckle!" But Mr. Toby paid no attention, and dragged Freddie along faster than ever.
"We don't want to miss any of it," said Mr. Toby. "Hurry up, boy."
They did not have far to go; only four or five "squares." They stopped before a great grimy brick building with a great wide entrance-way.
"Here we are," said Toby.
"What does that say up there?" said Freddie.
"Gaunt Street Theatre," said Toby. "Hurry up."
Freddie hung back before a signboard on which was a picture of a slender man dressed up in white clothing, very tight, with red and black squares on it; he was leaning against a table; his head and face were a dead white, except for red eyebrows, and a red spot in each cheek, and he had no hair, but a smooth dead-white skin from his forehead to the back of his neck. The peculiar thing was, that his head was on the table beside him, and not on his neck. Freddie pointed to the writing underneath the picture, and said:
"What does that say?"
"Hanlon's Superba," said Toby, pulling him along. "Hurry up! We'll be late."
Mr. Littleback went to a little window in the wall, inside the entrance-way, and spoke to a man in there, and evidently asked permission to go in, and evidentlygot it; and they did go in, up a flight of stairs, and found themselves suddenly among thousands and thousands of people, as it seemed, all sitting in chairs facing the same way, in a vast house lit up by gas light so that it was almost as bright as day; and Toby and Freddie sat down in the very front row of these people, and looked down over a railing in front of them on the heads of thousands and thousands, as it seemed, of other people, all sitting in chairs facing the same way. Everybody was facing towards a straight wall at the other side of the house, which had pictures painted on it. At the foot of this wall, in a kind of trench, there was a man at a piano, and there were other men with fiddles big and little, and still others with brass things, and they were all playing a tremendous tune together, but just after Toby and Freddie had sat down, they stopped playing and Toby nudged Freddie with his elbow, and said:
"Now, then, young feller, what do you think of this, eh? Just you wait! Keep your eye on that curtain!"
He had no sooner said this than somewhere in the house somebody gave a piercing whistle between his fingers, and in a minute there was such a racket that it was impossible to talk. There must have been people above them, and they must certainly have all been boys; for from up there Freddie heard a clapping of hands and a stamping of feet, all in a regular time, which spread to the whole house, and in the midst of it the boys up there began to shout and call and whistle, and in a few minutes there was such a hubbub as only boys could make, with whistling between the fingers leading the riot. Toby nudged Freddie again with his elbow, and to Freddie's surprise began to clap his hands and stamp his feet with the rest; and as Freddie thought he ought to be polite, he clapped his hands, too, though he did not know very well what it was all about.
Suddenly the men in the trench at the foot of the painted wall struck up again, and that quieted the other noise for a moment; but only for a moment; someone whistled through his fingers, and in an instant those fiddlers might as well have been sawing away at their fiddles out at the Park, for all you could hear them; and right in the midst of it all, while Freddie was trying to shout the word "Peanuts" into Toby's ear, suddenly the lights went out and you could have heard a pin drop.
"Now then! now then!" whispered Mr. Toby, in great excitement. "Now you'll see! Watch the curtain! It's going up!"
From down there in that dark trench came the sound of a soft twittery kind of music, and at the same time the painted wall that Freddie had been looking at was rising! going up! And it went on up and up out of sight into the ceiling, and there behind it, in a dim light, there behind it, mysterious and fearsome and delicious,—Well, there behind it was Fairyland. Just Fairyland.
I can't describe it to you. Freddie never forgot it. If you haven't seen Hanlon's Superba, in some old Gaunt Street Theatre or other, on a Saturday afternoon, with the galleries wild with boys, you have not lived. When Freddie tried to tell his mother and his father about it that night, it was such a whirling mass of wonders and glories that they could not make head nor tail of it. It is useless to speak of the Fairy Queen in her glittering white, coming to the rescue in the nick of time with her diamond sceptre, or of the horrible demons, or the trouble and excitement they made for everybody, or of the beautiful young lady who—and such leapings and twistings and climbings and tumblings as no mere human beings with bones in them could ever have performed—it is no use; it is best not to try to describe it. But there was one partwhich, although it may seem to you the most unlikely thing in the world, really had a good deal to do with Freddie afterwards. There was the same man whose picture he had seen outside on the signboard; and he could climb straight walls and leap through high windows and tumble across floors in a way which passed belief; but there was one thing he could not do; he could not talk; he never spoke a word from beginning to end. Once, after having escaped from a parcel of wicked red imps, he sat down, tired out and starved to death, before a table loaded with food, and he commenced to make a hearty meal; but just as he was about to sample each plate it disappeared, vanished, completely out of sight, right under his nose. His distress was pitiable, and Freddie thought it cruel of everybody to laugh, as everybody did. On his plate were sausages, and he nearly got them; but just as he thought he had them, they actually jumped off the table and ran along the floor and up the wall; and the poor man had to climb the wall after them, which he did like a cat, and even then he never came up with them; he was terribly disappointed; and to finish off his miseries, at last a wicked creature with a sword came up behind him, as he was leaning his head down on the table in despair, and cut off his head before your very eyes; really and truly cut it off; there was no doubt about it; the head was on the table and the poor man was in the chair; Freddie was terrified, and clutched Mr. Toby's arm. But when the wicked murderer had gone away, back popped the head onto the dead man's neck, his eyes opened, he grinned from ear to ear, and there he was on his feet, skipping and tumbling, as lively as ever; and at that Freddie and all the others in the house roared and shouted and clapped their hands.
"Is that Mr. Hanlon?" whispered Freddie into Mr. Toby's ear.
"Reckon it is," said Toby, too excited himself to pay much attention to Freddie.
But it could not last forever. Even the peanuts, which Toby bought for Freddie between the first and second acts, were all gone, and the curtain was down for the last time, and the crowd crushed through the doors, and Mr. Toby put on his white derby hat.
They were in the street, and the speechless Mr. Hanlon was a thing of the past. Freddie did not believe that he would ever see that dumb and loose-headed man again; but in that he was mistaken, as you shall see.
Toby left him at the corner near his father's house.
"What I say is," said Toby, "three cheers for our growing-up party!"
"Yes," said Freddie, "and three cheers for Mr. Hanlon!"
For a long time afterwards, Freddie dreamed at night of a hunchbacked man whose head came off and popped on again, and wicked red demons who chased a poor man with a white face who tried to cry for help and could not speak a word, and of a Chinaman's head without a body, smoking a long clay pipe. In the daytime, he thought a good deal about the people he was now acquainted with: Mr. Toby with his white derby hat, Aunt Amanda swallowing pins, the sailorman from China, Mr. Punch and his father, Mr. Hanlon with his head on the table, the Churchwarden smoking his churchwarden pipe, and the two old Codgers, one so sly and the other so beggarly; but that which occupied his mind more than anything else was the Chinaman's head on Mr. Toby's shelf.
Freddie was older now, and as time went on it might be thought that he would have grown accustomed to all these strange things; but he had not; far from it; he thought about them more and more, and most of all about the Chinaman's head and the magic tobacco. He really could not get that Chinaman's head out of his mind. Here was magic just within reach of your hand, and you were told that you mustn't touch it. You might as well have Aladdin's lamp in your bureau drawer, and be told to keep away from the bureau; even parents ought to know better than to expect such a thing. Anyway, what harm could just one or two little whiffs do? You needn't smoke a whole pipeful, if you didn't want to. However, Mr. Tobywould not be pleased, and Freddie did not intend to do anything to displease Mr. Toby. Still, it did seem a pity, with such a chance right over your head—Oh, well, he would think no more about it; he fixed his mind on other things; he thought especially about a hymn they sang nearly every Sunday in Sunday-school; it was a great help; he knew it by heart, and it went like this:
"Yield not to temptation,For yielding is sin,Each vict'ry will help youSome other to win."
"Yield not to temptation,For yielding is sin,Each vict'ry will help youSome other to win."
He resolved he would never think about the magic tobacco again; he went to sleep saying over to himself, "Yield not to temptation," and dreamed all night about the Chinaman's head, and thought about it all the next day.
In order to get it out of his mind, he called on Aunt Amanda. It was late in the afternoon; he sat on his hassock and watched Aunt Amanda sewing. Mr. Toby was in the shop, waiting on customers. Freddie watched for a long time, and then said:
"What are you doing?"
"Basting," said Aunt Amanda.
"I thought that was what you did to a turkey," said Freddie.
"So it is," said Aunt Amanda.
"That isn't a turkey," said Freddie.
"No," said Aunt Amanda, "you baste a turkey with gravy."
"That isn't gravy," said Freddie.
"It's different," said Aunt Amanda. "You see, I have to sew this up with needle and thread, and——"
"You sew up a turkey with needle and thread, too," said Freddie.
"But that's different," said Aunt Amanda. "You couldn't baste a turkey with needle and thread, and you couldn't baste dress-goods with gravy——"
"Why not?" said Freddie.
"Well," said Aunt Amanda, "well, you see, they don't do it that way; it'sdifferent; it ain't the same thing at all; it's like this; when you baste a turkey——"
"Have you ever had any children?" said Freddie.
Aunt Amanda put her hand to her heart suddenly, as if she had received a shot there, and caught her breath; then she looked out of the window, and then round at the wax flowers on the table, and then at the door, and she really seemed to be thinking of running away. But she was too lame to do that, and she at last clasped her fingers together tight in her lap, and looked hard at Freddie. He was gazing at her calmly, waiting for information.
"No," said Aunt Amanda, "I have never—had—any—children."
"Why not?" said Freddie.
"I have—never—been married," said Aunt Amanda.
Freddie thought about this for a moment.
"Didn't anybody ever want you?" said he.
"No," said she, "nobody—ever—wanted—me."
Freddie was puzzled.
"But you're nice," said he.
"That ain't enough," said Aunt Amanda.
"What else do you have to be?"
"You have to be pretty."
"Weren't you ever pretty?"
"I thought—so—once, but—but—I must have been mistaken. I guess I never was."
Freddie thought it over, and announced his decision seriously.
"Iwould want you, anyway."
Aunt Amanda stretched out a trembling hand to him and ran her fingers through his hair; then she threw both her arms around him and pressed him against her knee. He was much annoyed. He was afraid she might be going to kiss him; but she did not; instead, she pulled out her handkerchief and blew her nose.
"How many children were there that you didn't have?" said Freddie, to change the subject. Aunt Amanda did not understand this at first, but she finally saw what he meant. Whatdidhe mean? you may say. What he meant was—well, it is perfectly clear, but it is hard to explain. Anyway, Aunt Amanda understood him. "Three," said she. "Bobby was the oldest, and Jenny next, and James was the littlest one."
"Did they all go to school?"
"Oh dear no. Only Bobby. And once he played hookey, and was gone all day, and didn't come home until after dark, all muddy. I was terribly worried. He was a very mischievous boy, but he was his—mother's—own——"
"Did he play marbles for keeps?"
"Yes, but he went to Sunday-school just as regular, and liked it, and——"
"Helikedit?"
"Yes, of course, and he always took good care of Jenny——. She had little yellow curls. They went to Sunday-school together hand in hand, and he didn't even mind her carrying her dolly with her; she wouldn't go without it. He was so careful of her at street-crossings. She loved her dollies. She used to pretend that James was one of them."
"Did James like that?"
"Not very well, but he put up with it for quite a few minutes at a time. He couldn't be still very long.But he was pretty lonesome when Jenny had the measles."
"I've had the chicken-pox. Did Bobby know how to mind his P's and Q's?"
"He didn't mind anybody very well. Once I had a note from his teacher, and it said——"
But Freddie never learned what sin Bobby had committed in school; for at that moment the shop door opened, and Mr. Toby thrust in his head and said:
"Just got to get around to the barber-shop right away this minute; can't put it off no longer. Won't be gone twenty minutes. Freddie!"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, standing up.
"Do you think you could look after the shop for twenty minutes, while I'm gone?"
Now Freddie did not know it, but this was in fact the most important question that had ever been put to him in his life. Everything depended on his answer; if he said no, we might as well stop this story right here; if he said yes——
"Yes, sir," said Freddie.
"All right. If anybody comes in, just tell 'em to wait."
Freddie left Aunt Amanda, sitting very still, and gazing out of the window, with her hands folded in her lap, and followed Mr. Toby into the shop.
"All right, sonny," said Mr. Toby, "make yourself comfortable. I'll be back in a jiffy. If anybody comes in, you tell 'em to wait." And with that he went out of the door and up the street. Freddie was left alone in the shop.
Everything was very quiet now, for it was beginning to be twilight, and all the people seemed to be indoors. He knew he ought to be going home, but he had promised to mind the shop, and it would never do to leave before Mr. Toby came back. The street door and the door to Aunt Amanda's room were both closed. Hesat down on the chair by the front window and looked out across the bull-dog's head. He thought of Bobby and his little sister in Sunday-school, and that led him to think of the hymn that did him so much good:
"Yield not to temptation,For yielding is sin."
"Yield not to temptation,For yielding is sin."
He sang that tune to himself for a while, and he found himself singing other tunes, and finally one which began:
"There was an old codger, and he had a wooden leg,And he never bought tobacco when tobacco he could beg."
"There was an old codger, and he had a wooden leg,And he never bought tobacco when tobacco he could beg."
Tobacco! There was a world of tobacco on those shelves. Smoking tobacco, and churchwarden pipes. He strolled around behind the counter, and let down the back of the show-case. There were the churchwarden pipes; he selected one and took it out. It tasted cold and clammy when he put it in his mouth, and he wondered what it would taste like with tobacco in it. He brought the little ladder and got up on it, facing the shelves, and to his surprise he found himself looking directly into the slanting eyes of the porcelain Chinaman's head. He stood there gazing thoughtfully into those eyes, and singing to himself the verse which was always such a help to him:
"Yield not to temptation,For yielding is sin,Each vict'ry will help youSome other to win."
"Yield not to temptation,For yielding is sin,Each vict'ry will help youSome other to win."
It was growing a little darker now, and he could not examine the Chinaman's head very well without bringing it closer. He took the head in his hands, lifted it from the shelf, got down off the ladder, and sat down on the floor with his back against the counter;and while he was doing this he hummed to himself the next part of his tune:
"Fight manfully onward,Dark passions subdue."
"Fight manfully onward,Dark passions subdue."
He put the head on his knees, and took off the Chinaman's little round cap, which proved to be in fact a lid. He put his hand inside and drew out a good fistful of absolutely black tobacco, fine and powdery like coal-dust; he held it to his nose, and it smelt very sweet, in fact much like brown sugar. He wondered if it would taste like brown sugar through the pipe-stem; and humming quietly to himself, "Each vict'ry will help you," he poured the tobacco into the bowl of the pipe. He was disappointed, on sucking in through the pipe-stem, to find that there was no brown-sugar taste at all. Of course, the only way to give tobacco any taste was to light it; he reached up and got a match off the counter behind him, and sitting down again struck the match on the floor. It made a very pretty glow in the twilight, and he watched it as it burned away in his fingers; it would be burnt out in another second, so, humming to himself those ever-helpful words, "Yield not to temptation," he put the pipe in his mouth and touched the lighted match to the tobacco.
It is painful to have to tell these things, but it can't be helped; for the consequences were so strange, and so important to Freddie and his friends, that——
Anyway, he lit the pipe and drew in a long breath through the stem. He nearly choked to death. Smoke got into his nose and his eyes and his throat, and he coughed and coughed; but he remembered the words, "Fight manfully onward," and he determined that he would not give up so soon. He stopped coughing and pulled again at the pipe; this time he did not swallow the smoke, but blew it out of his mouth as he had seen it done a thousand times. He gave another pull, andblew the smoke out again; it did indeed taste like brown sugar; it was extremely pleasant; he puffed again and again. He was astonished that he could have produced so much smoke in a few whiffs; there was quite a cloud over his head. He gave another puff, and when he blew out the smoke the white cloud above him was so thick that he could not see through it. It began to settle down on him. He put the Chinaman's head on the floor, and looked up into this cloud.
It was growing thicker and thicker, and it was beginning to churn about as if in a whirlwind; it turned all sorts of colours, mostly yellow and green, and parts of it looked like barber's poles revolving at a terrific speed. He became dizzy as he gazed at it; his head began to swim; the cloud was coming down closer and closer upon him, and whirling about more and more wildly; he crouched down lower, and became dizzier and dizzier. The counter and the shelves began to go round and round, so that he had to put his hand on the floor to steady himself; in another moment the shop disappeared altogether, and there was nothing under him but a little square of floor, and nothing over him but the wild, churning cloud, now sparkling with jets of fire. He felt himself falling, falling, and as he came to the bottom with a crash, he heard the shop door open and close, and found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the counter as before, with no smoke anywhere to be seen; and he was aware that a hoarse voice was speaking on the other side of the counter, and it was saying these words, very loud and brisk:
"Avast, there! Belay that piping! All snug, sir, hatches battened down, makin' way under skysails and royals, hands piped to quarters, and here's your humble servant ready for orders! Shiver my timbers, where's the skipper? Piped me up with a 'baccy pipe, he did, and where's he gone? Skipper ahoy! Come fororders, I be, and ever yours to command, Lemuel Mizzen! That's me!"
Freddie put the pipe down on the floor, rose to his feet, and looked over the counter.
Leaning on his elbow on the other side of the counter was a Sailorman, with a wide blue collar open at the throat, a flat blue cap with a black ribbon on the back of his head, and a green patch over his right eye.
Freddie looked at the Sailorman, and the Sailorman straightened up and touched his cap. His face was brown as weathered oak, and creased like bark; his one eye was black and glittering; the hand which he raised to his cap was of the shape and nearly the size of a ham; and the chest and throat which emerged from his wide-open shirt-collar was as brown as his face, and big with muscles. There was a delicious odour of tar about him; you positively could not look at him without hearing wind whistling through ropes. He hitched up his trousers with his other hand and said:
"Ay, ay, skipper! Here I be as big as life, all ready fer orders!"
As Freddie gazed at him, the Little Boy slowly collected his wits, and a light began to dawn upon him.
"Have you been to China?" said he.
"Right-o!" cried the Sailorman. "To China I have been——" in a queer sing-song, as if he might have been marching in time to it round a capstan, hauling in an anchor: "To China I have been, and a many ports I've seen, near and far; I can sail before the mast or behind it just as fast, I'm a tar, I'm a tar, I'm a tar!"
Freddie continued to stare at him with increasing astonishment.
"Are you a sailor, sir?" said he.
"Wot, me? I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me, and I sail the deep blue sea from Maine to Afrikee, and round again on an even keel to Cochin China for cochineal, and back to Chili for Chili sauce, and home again to Banbury Cross—that's me! Lemuel Mizzen, able seaman! Fed on hard tack or soft tack, or a starboard tack or a port tack, it's all the same to me! Now then, skipper, you piped me up, wot's the orders?"
"Please, sir," said Freddie, "would you mind telling me what it is you would like to have?"
"Me?Douse my binnacle light, wot I want is a chew o' terbacker; but the question before the chart-house is, wot doyouwant, skipper?"
"I don't want anything," said Freddie.
"Wot? You piped me up, didn't you? Piped me up with a pipe?"
"No, sir," said Freddie.
"Sorry to entertain a different opinion from the skipper! Didn't you smoke the Chinaman's 'baccy,ina pipe?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, hanging his head.
"Then you did pipe me up with a pipe, and I hope I knows better than to come aft without bein' piped. Didn't you know I've got to come when you smoke the pipe with the Chinaman's 'baccy in it?"
"No, sir," said Freddie.
The Able Seaman fixed his black eye on Freddie in amazement.
"Well, bust my locker if this ain't the—Beggin' your pardon, skipper, and no offense meant! Called me off from the China Sea, and don't want me after all! Didn't go fer to do it, not him! And me off in the China Sea amongst the Boxers, a-v'yaging hither and thither to pick up a cargo o' boxes to box compasses with! Ye've brought me a fair long journey fer nothin', skipper!"
"I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me!""I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me!"
"I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me!"
"I'm very sorry, sir," said Freddie, "I didn't know you had to come when the Chinaman's tobacco was smoked. Are you the one that brought that tobacco here?"
"Ay, ay! That's me! Lemuel Mizzen, A.B.! And a fine long trip from the China Sea, to come to a lad in Amerikee when I hears in my ears the skipper's call, and all fer nothin' at all, at all! Ain't you got nothin' to offer in extenuation?"
Freddie did not know what "extenuation" meant, but he could see by the Sailorman's face that that gentleman was a good deal put out. He remembered that Mr. Mizzen wanted a chew of tobacco.
"Would a little tobacco make you feel better?" said he.
"Now you've got yer hand on the right rope!" said the Able Seaman, his face brightening. "I don't smoke. I chew. If you're goin' to offer a bit of a chew, why then, says I, I don't care if I do."
Freddie took a long plug of chewing tobacco from the shelf behind him. He knew that Mr. Toby would not mind making a little gift to the sailorman after his long journey. He put the plug under the cutter on the counter, and was about to press down the handle, to cut off a portion, when the Able Seaman hitched up his trousers and said:
"Belay there, skipper! Put the whole cargo aboard! This here craft needs ballast; hoist her over the side!" And he reached out his hand for the whole plug of tobacco and took it from Freddie, and gnawed off a corner with his teeth.
"Ah!" said he, his right cheek bulging out. "Too much ballast to starboard." And he gnawed off another corner, so that his left cheek bulged out like his right.
"All snug!" said he. "I'll just pay fer my cargo before I set sail, with a bit of a draft on the owners, in a manner of speakin'. Here y'are, sir. Stow thatbit o' paper in yer sea-chest, and it'll come in handy one o' these days. Pay as you go, says I."
He placed in Freddie's hand a folded sheet of soiled paper. It was greasy with handling, and was evidently very old; it was folded small and tight, and was beginning to break with age at the creases. On the outside, it was blank; but there might have been writing inside.
"Got it in the Caribbean off a runaway sailor, fer a set of false whiskers and a tattoo needle. Will it do to pay fer the cargo with?"
"Yes, sir; thank you," said Freddie, holding the paper in his hand without unfolding it.
"Then all I got to say is, before I weighs anchor,—take good keer o' that there bit o' paper. Aloft and alow, don't ye never let go; round the yard take a bight and hold on to it tight; let the harricane blow till yer fingers is blue, but wotever you do, don't ye never let go. And skipper, mind wot I'm a-tellin' you; if you ever needs Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., fer to give him his orders, all you got to do is to smoke a couple o' whiffs of the Chinaman's 'baccy, and Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., he'll be on deck before the smoke's cleared away. That's clear?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, with eyes wide open.
"And now as I see there's no orders to give, I'm off to my tight little bark called The Sieve, and when I'm aboard I'll close all the shutters, and lock up the parrot that sneezes and stutters, and wake all the skippers, and put on my slippers, and get into bed while the mates overhead are swabbing the decks and heaving the lead and baling the bilge-water up with their dippers; and when they have gotten the vessel to going, and settled all down to their knitting and sewing, and the twenty-third mate, who is always so late, has learned what is meant by a third and last warning, I'll turn up the gas, take a look at the glass, and read methe Life of Old Chew until morning!—And so, sir," continued Mr. Mizzen, walking towards the street door, "I must give you a view of my little stern-light, and bid you, dear sir, a very good night."
So saying, he turned squarely towards Freddie, with one hand on the door-knob, and with the other hand touched his cap respectfully. Freddie saw that his trousers were very wide at the ankles and very tight at the hips, and that he rolled a little when he walked. Having touched his cap respectfully, he opened the door and went out, and disappeared in the darkness outside.
Freddie stood looking after him with his mouth wide open.
It was some minutes before Freddie recovered from his astonishment. Certainly this was a strange Sailorman. And he had come all the way from the China Sea at a puff of the Chinaman's tobacco! Certainly magic tobacco, that! But it was a pity that Mr. Mizzen had been called away from the China Sea, all for nothing, while he was so busy gathering boxes to box compasses with! No wonder he had felt put out about it. And it must have been a queer sort of ship, with its shutters, and all those skippers and mates—did they really like to knit and sew after they had got the ship to going? It would be a wonderful thing to sail in a ship like that; he wished he had thought to ask Mr. Mizzen more about it. He must tell Aunt Amanda at once.
He ran to the back door and burst into the back room, crying out "Aunt Amanda!"
Aunt Amanda was sound asleep in her chair, with her head back and her mouth open; the gas was burning brightly overhead, and the clock was ticking away distinctly on the mantel-piece.
"Aunt Amanda!" cried Freddie.
She awoke with a jump, blinked her eyes, and said:
"Hah! Where's the—what's the—who said—Where's Toby? What's the matter?"
"It's me, Aunt Amanda," cried Freddie, breathlessly, "and the Sailorman's just been here and gone, and I called him with the pipe, and I can call him wheneverI want him, and he gave me a piece of paper, and he talks like a singing-book, and there's a parrot that stutters, and they have to bale out the water with dippers because the ship's named The Sieve, and we mustn't lose the paper because the runaway sailor wore false whiskers, and he feeds on tacks instead of pins, and we have to hold on tight to the paper, and one of the men on the ship is always late, and we mustn't lose the paper, because——"
"Stop! Stop!" said Aunt Amanda. "What on earth is the child talking about? What's all this about a Sailorman and a paper?"
"He's the one that brought the Chinaman's tobacco from China, and he gave me a piece of paper, and here it is, and we mustn't lose it, because——"
"One minute, Freddie! Now you just stand right there, perfectly still, and tell me about it slowly. Now, then; what about this Sailorman? Slow, slow."
It was a long time before Freddie made her understand exactly what had happened, but at last she did understand, from beginning to end. She was grieved and horrified that he had smoked the tobacco, but there was no help for it now, and she was too much excited by his tale to scold him very long.
"What's the paper he give you?" said she, when he had told her everything.
Freddie put the paper in her hand, and she unfolded it carefully.
"Why," said she, "it's a map!"
"What kind of a map?" said Freddie.
"It's a map of an Island," said Aunt Amanda. "Where's Toby? I wish he would come home. It looks like an Island, and there's writing here on it. Looks like some sailorman might have drawn it, maybe; it's certainly pretty old. I wish Toby would come."
"What's the writing on it, Aunt Amanda?" said Freddie.
"Well, here at the top it says, 'Correction Island,' and under that it says, 'Spanish Main.' Bless me; that's where the pirates used to——"
"Pirates?" said Freddie, his eyes sparkling.
"Yes, pirates, of course. You've heard of the Spanish Main, haven't you?"
"Yes'm. It's a long way off. You have to go there in a ship. Have you ever been there?"
"Me? Me been to the Spanish Main? Mercy sakes, no, child! What would I be doing on the Spanish Main? I ain't been outside of this town since I was born."
"Wouldn't I like to go there! Pirates!" said Freddie. "Oh jiminy!"
"You mustn't use such dreadful language," said Aunt Amanda. "I wonder where Toby is? Just look at that clock! Why, bless me, it's twenty-seven minutes to seven."
Freddie looked, and saw that the hands of the clock were together, one on top of the other. It was the hour for Mr. Punch's father to call Mr. Punch from the church-tower.
"Toby's got to talkin' with that barber again, as sure as you live; when they once begin, they never know when to leave off. I wish he'd——"
As she said this, the door opened, and in walked Mr. Toby himself.
"Sorry I'm so late," he cried, "but the barber got to talking about—What, young feller, are you still here?" He turned and called through the open door to someone behind him in the shop. "Come in! Make you acquainted with my aunt and a young chap here—Don't be bashful, come right in! Nobody's goin' to eat you!"
Mr. Toby held the door wide open, and made wayfor a little gentleman who now advanced into the room. He was a hunchbacked man, of the same height as Toby, and he was holding out in one hand a bunch of black cigars; he was bareheaded and bald-headed; he had high cheek-bones and a big chin and a hooked nose; he wore blue knee breeches and black stockings and buckled shoes, and his coat was cut away in front over his stomach and had two tails behind, down to his knees. His joints creaked a little as he walked. He made a stiff bow to Aunt Amanda, and another one to Freddie.
"Come in, Mr. Punch," said Toby, "you don't need to hold them cigars any longer. Give 'em to me." And he took them from Mr. Punch and laid them on the table. He then went to Mr. Punch and linked his arm in his, and the two hunchbacks stepped forward together and stood before Aunt Amanda.
"Allow me to present my friend Mr. Punch," said Toby. "Just as I was coming in, I heard a voice sing out 'Punch!' from the church-tower, and Mr. Punch stepped down from his perch, and I invited him to come in, and here we are."
"Good hevening, marm," said Mr. Punch. His voice sounded harsh, as if his throat were rusty. "Good hevening, young sir. Hit's wery pleasant within-doors, wery pleasant indeed; Hi carn't s'y it's so blooming agreeable hout there on my box, hall d'y and hall night; the gaslight is wery welcome to me poor heyes, I assure you, marm. Hi trust I see you well, marm."
"Mercy on us!" said Aunt Amanda, who had been speechless with astonishment. "Freddie, it's Mr. Punch himself, bless me if it ain't!"
Freddie edged a little closer to Aunt Amanda, for he was afraid Mr. Punch might snatch him up and carry him off to his father in the tower. Mr. Punch noticed this.
"'Ave no fear, me good sir," said Mr. Punch, hiswide mouth expanding in a smile, almost to his ears. "Hi sharn't see me father this night, hif me kind friends will permit me to enjoy their society for a brief period, together with their charmin' gaslight, which it is wery dim hall night in the street and quite hunsatisfactory, accordingly most pleased to haccept me friend Toby's kind 'ospitality, Hi assure you. One grows quite cramped in one's legs and one's harms when one 'as to remain in one position on one's box hall night, unless one's father should tyke hit into 'is 'ead to call one hup for a bit of a lark, and one can never be sure of one's father's 'aving it in 'is 'ead to call one hup, to s'y nothing of one's fingers coming stiffer and stiffer with one's parcel of cigars 'eld out in one's 'and, and no 'at on one's 'ead, and no 'air on one's 'ead to defend one against the hevening hair, with one's nose dropping hicicles in winter, so that one never knows when one will lose one's nose off of one's fyce——"
"Excuse me," said Aunt Amanda. It was evident that Mr. Punch was a talkative person. "Are you an Englishman?"
"Ho lor' miss, indeed!" said Mr. Punch. "A Henglishman as ever was, Hi assure you. But I 'opes I give myself no hairs."
Freddie gave up trying to understand the difference between air and hair; it was plain enough that the bald-headed man had never given himself any hair, so it couldn't be that. Anyway, this was an Englishman, and Freddie was glad that he would now probably have a chance to hear English spoken, which he had never heard before.
"Toby," said Aunt Amanda, "Freddie has seen the Sailorman from China, and he has a map. I'll tell you about it."
Thereupon she related the story of Mr. Lemuel Mizzen, as she had got it from Freddie. Mr. Toby and Mr. Punch were both tremendously impressed.
"It's too bad," said Mr. Toby, "this young feller here had to go and smoke the Chinaman's tobacco after I told him not to; it's too bad, that's what it is. What did you mean by it, sir?"
"Hit's a wery naughty haction indeed," said Mr. Punch. "Wery reprehensible. Wery. Hi carn't s'y as I ever 'eard of a thing so hextremely reprehensible. Now when Hi was a lad——"
"You don't say so!" said Mr. Toby. "Well, I don't see anything so very bad about it. I'd a' done it myself if I'd been in his place. What do you mean by saying that my Freddie's reprehensible? I won't have nobody callin' him names, I won't, and what's more——"
"No offense, Toby! No offense!" cried Mr. Punch. "Sorry, Hi assure you. Wery reprehensible of me to s'y such a thing. Wery. Pray be calm; be calm."
"Well, then," grumbled Toby, "don't you go and say nothing about Freddie, because—Anyway, let's have a look at the map."
At that moment there came a timid knock upon the door.
"Who next?" said Toby. "Come in!"
The door opened, and there entered a poor-looking elderly man, bowing and scraping as he came, and saluting the company with an old rusty dented tall hat which he carried in his hand. The most striking thing about him was that he had a wooden leg. His hair was grey and thin, and his face was not very clean; there were signs of tobacco at the corners of his mouth. His clothes were frayed and patched, and there was a good deal of grease on his vest; he wore a celluloid collar without any necktie, and round celluloid cuffs; his coat-sleeves were much too short, and his cuffs hung out certainly three inches. Strange to say, his collar and cuffs were spotlessly clean, and presented quite a contrast to his very untidy face and clothes; but then, celluloid is easy to clean; much less trouble than washing the face. As he stumped into the room, he kept bowing humbly from one to another, and bobbing his old hat up and down in his hand.
"Ahem!" he said, making another bow. "I was just going by, and I thought I would drop in to—er—ahem!—I hope I am not in the way?"
"Oh, come in," said Toby, not very graciously. "As long as you are here, you might as well stay. This is Mr. Punch, and this is Freddie."
The elderly man bowed to Freddie, and went up to Mr. Punch and shook him cordially by the hand.He put his mouth quite close to Mr. Punch's ear, and lowered his voice, and said:
"Ahem! I'm delighted to know you, sir. I trust you are well. I have seen you often, but not to speak to. Ahem!" He lowered his voice again, and spoke very confidentially into Mr. Punch's ear. "The fact is, sir, that as I was going by, I suddenly found that I had left my tobacco pouch at home; most unfortunate; and I came in with the hope that perhaps—er—ahem! Very seldom forget my tobacco; very seldom indeed; perfectly lost without it; do you—er, ahem!—do you happen to have such a thing about you as a—er—ahem!—a small portion of—er—smoking tobacco? I should be very much obliged!"
"Sorry," said Mr. Punch, stiffly, backing away. "Hi never use tobacco in any way, shape or form."
The elderly man looked much disappointed, and sighed. He turned to Toby, and bowed and smiled hopefully.
"Perhaps Mr. Littleback—" he began.
"Not on your life," said Toby. "You don't get no tobacco out of me, and that's flat."
The elderly man sighed again, and looked steadily at Freddie; but he evidently thought there was no hope in that quarter, and he said nothing.
Freddie now realized who the elderly gentleman was. He had a wooden leg, and he never bought tobacco when tobacco he could beg—It was the Old Codger whom Mr. Toby had now and then sung a song about; one of his two friends, the one who was always begging tobacco, and never had any of his own. Freddie looked at him, and felt rather sorry for him.
"Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Very sorry to intrude, Miss Amanda. I hope I'm not in the way. It's very mild weather we're having."
"Now, then," said Toby, briskly, "let's look at this map."
As he said this, another knock was heard at the door; a firm and confident knock this time.
"Confound it!" said Toby. "Who next? Come in!"
The door opened, and another elderly man stepped in; a tall slim man, with very white hair and a long narrow face; he carried a tall shiny black silk hat in his hand; he wore a black suit, all of broadcloth, and his coat hung to his knees and was buttoned to the top; his cuffs and collar and shirt were of beautiful white linen with a gloss, and his tie was a little white linen bow. He came forward with an air of warm benevolence.
"My dear,dearfriends!" he said, and stretched out both hands towards the company, as if to clasp them all to his heart. "What a beautiful, beautiful scene! So homelike, so cosy, so sociable, so—so—What can be so beautiful as the gathering together of friends about the family hearth!Sobeautiful!" There was a Latrobe stove in the room, but no hearth; however, that made no difference; he went, with his hands outstretched, to Aunt Amanda, and pressed one of hers in both of his.
The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg immediately sidled up to him, and while he was still pressing Aunt Amanda's hand, said, in a confidential tone:
"Ahem! I'm delighted to see you again. I trust you are well. The fact is, I find that I have—er—left my tobacco pouch at home,—most unfortunate; very seldom forget it; completely lost without it; I was wondering—er—ahem!—if you happened to have such a thing about you as a—"
"No!" said the other old man, changing at once from beaming benevolence to stern severity. "I'll behanged if I do!" And he released Aunt Amanda's hand, and turned his back on the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg.
"Now," said Toby, "let's look at the map. This here is Mr. Punch, and this is Freddie."
The newcomer took Mr. Punch's hand in both of his and squeezed it softly; he then took Freddie's hand in both of his and pressed it tenderly. Freddie knew him. He was the "other Old Codger, as sly as a fox, who always had tobacco in his old tobacco-box." Freddie could hardly believe that that white-haired old gentleman could be as sly as a fox.
"My dear,dearfriends!" said the Sly Old Fox. "What is so beautiful as the love of friends?" He stopped to glare at the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, who looked away nervously. "The love of friends! Gathered together around the family hearth! How beautiful! It touches me, my friends, it touches me——"
"That's all right about that," said Toby. "For heaven'ssake, let's look at the map!"
Aunt Amanda spread out the map on the table beside her, and the others gathered round.
"It's an island!" cried Toby.
"On the Spanish Main," said Aunt Amanda.
"The Spanish Main!" said the Sly Old Fox. "A beautiful country! Full of palms,—and grape-nuts,—What you might call a real work of nature! Full of parrots, and monkeys, and lagoons, and other wild creatures; a work of nature, my dear friends, a real work of nature."
"And pirates," said Freddie, earnestly.
"Isaidparrots," said the Sly Old Fox.
"Isaid pirates," said Freddie.
"Just what I said," said the Sly Old Fox. "Thatlive in trees, my little friend, in trees; and have red and blue feathers, and——"
"Pirates don't have feathers," said Freddie.
"Dear, dear!" said the Sly Old Fox. "Howcanyou say such a thing? Howcanyou——?"
"Did you ever see a pirate in a tree?"
"In cages, my dear little friend! Hundreds of them!"
"That's enough!" said Mr. Toby. "Quit wrangling for a minute, will you? What about this here map? I tell you what, though. I'd like the Churchwarden to see this map. Freddie, will you run down the street and get the Churchwarden?"
"Yes, sir," said Freddie, moving towards the door.
"And tell him to bring along his Odour of Sanctity with him. He always carries a bottle of it in his pocket, and we may need it. Don't forget it."
"No, sir," said Freddie.
"Hold on a minute," said Mr. Toby, snatching up his hat. "I'll go for him myself. I can do it quicker." And in a moment he was out of the door.
While Toby was gone, Aunt Amanda explained to the two old men about the Sailorman from China, and about his gift of the map which was lying on the table. They were just at the end of their discussion when Toby returned, bringing with him the Churchwarden, puffing and blowing with the unusual exertion of walking, and without his pipe. Toby introduced him to Mr. Punch and the two old Codgers, and drew him up to the table and showed him the map, explaining at the same time how it came there.
The Churchwarden examined the map carefully, while the others all looked at him. He finally put down the map, settled himself in a chair, folded his hands across his fat stomach, blew out his cheeks, and said:
"My opinion is, that what we ought to do is to—I've considered the matter carefully, from all sides, and I think we ought to—Of course you may not agree with me, but I think the best thing to do would be to—Unless, of course, some of you may think of something better, but if you don't, then I can't say as there's anything better to do than to——"
At this moment there came a sound from the street outside which made everyone but Aunt Amanda jump to his feet. It was the sound of running feet, mixed with strange cries, not very loud, but somehow blood-curdling. It was evident that someone was in trouble.Freddie and the five men rushed from the room and through the shop and into the street.
The street was very dark, except for a gas-lamp at the opposite corner. A white figure was running down the pavement towards the shop-door, with frantic speed; and behind him, evidently chasing him, came a crowd of little dark creatures, hard to make out in the dim light. It was these creatures who were making the little blood-curdling cries. In a moment they had come so near that the party about the shop-door could see what they were. In front, running desperately with leaps and bounds, and panting for breath, came a tall slim man all in tight-fitting white clothes, with a dead white face and a white hairless head; and after him, tumbling on pell-mell, was a perfect riot of little red imps, with little horns on their foreheads, and little tails behind them, all trying to spear the white man with the wicked little pitchforks which they carried, and to seize him with their claws. Freddie thought they were precisely like the imps he had seen at Hanlon's Superba. When the white man reached the shop-door they had nearly caught him. He paused at that moment, looked wildly about him, saw the open door of the shop, and dashed in and banged the door to behind him. The imps came tumbling up and hesitated an instant before the men at the door; and in that instant the Churchwarden showed the most unexpected presence of mind. He quickly reached behind him and drew a small bottle out of his pocket and pulled out the cork and sprinkled a few drops of its contents on the ground before him. A sharp penetrating odour immediately filled the air; it was so intense that it made the tears come into Freddie's eyes; but what it did to the wild mob of imps was almost beyond belief. As they got their first whiff of it, they tumbled back over one another in a madeffort to get away; but they could not get away from the odour quick enough; it caught them and held them, so that in a moment they could not move; they stood fixed and fast and silent; in another moment they began to melt away, and in two minutes they had vanished; actually vanished where they stood, each and every one, before the very eyes of the astonished party before the door.
"Blimy hif I ever see the like!" said Mr. Punch.
"Never knew my Odour of Sanctity to fail once," said the Churchwarden, coolly. "Hardly ever go out without it. There ain't a witch or an imp or a bad spirit of any kind whatever can stand up against my Odour of Sanctity, if he once gets a couple of good whiffs of it out of this little bottle. Just a few drops from the bottle, and a few sniffs, and whoof! they're done for! No, sir! there ain't no perfumery in the world like Odour of Sanctity!"
On the floor of the shop they found the poor white man lying completely exhausted. They asked him to explain, but he could not speak. Mr. Toby and Mr. Punch, one on each side, supported him into the back room, and sat him down in a chair before Aunt Amanda. She held up her hands in astonishment. The man was certainly a strange-looking man. They plied him with questions, but he touched his tongue with his finger and shook his head. He could not speak; he was dumb. Freddie, after one long look at him under the gaslight, knew who he was.
"It's Mr. Hanlon!" he cried, in great excitement. "It's Mr. Hanlon!"
The dumb man looked at Freddie and smiled, and nodded his head. He rose to his feet, shook Freddie's hand, and made a graceful bow to the whole company.
"It's Mr. Hanlon sure enough," said Toby, "still being chased by the imps. Pretty near got him thattime, too! But he got away safe and sound after all, didn't he, eh?" And all the party, including Mr. Hanlon himself, laughed with delight. And when the Churchwarden pulled out his little perfume bottle and showed it around, and explained to Mr. Hanlon what it had done, the poor man was so overcome that he put his head down on the Churchwarden's shoulder and wept.
"This'll never do!" cried Toby. "Ain't we never,never, going to get down to this here map? I neverseesuch a time as I've had, trying to examine this here map! One thing right after another! Mr. Hanlon, I'll tell you what it's about, and then you can see it for yourself. Would you like to stay here with our little party? It's a good deal safer than out-of-doors."
Mr. Hanlon nodded eagerly and smiled, and Toby explained everything to him and showed him the map.
"Now," said Toby, when that was done, "speak up, Warden, and finish what you was a-saying!"