Stand By! - BestLightNovel.com
You’re reading novel Stand By! Part 9 online at BestLightNovel.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit BestLightNovel.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy
The _Puffin_ had always been a clean s.h.i.+p, but on this particular occasion she surpa.s.sed herself, for all hands and the cook had done their very utmost to uphold her reputation. Her burnished guns and freshly scoured bra.s.s-work shone dazzingly in the sun; her topmasts and blocks had been newly sc.r.a.ped and varnished, while the running rigging, boat's falls, and other ropes about the deck were neatly coiled down and flemished. The decks themselves were as white as holystones, sand, and much elbow grease could make them, and, with her white hull with its encircling green riband and cherry-red waterline, her yellow lower masts and funnel, and a brand-new pendant flying from the main-truck and large White Ensign flapping lazily from its staff on the p.o.o.p, the _Puffin_ looked more like a yacht than a man-o'-war. But Commander Potvin also had a reputation to keep up, and he would not be Commander Potvin if he could not find fault somewhere.
"Seaman's division--'shun!" shouted Falland, the officer in charge, as the commander and first lieutenant made their appearance from under the p.o.o.p. "Off--caps!"
The men clicked their heels punctiliously and removed their headgear, and the captain, pa.s.sing down the front rank with his sword trailing on the deck behind him, began his inspection.
"What is your name, my man?" he inquired condescendingly, halting opposite to a burly bearded able seaman.
"Joseph Smith, sir."
"I seem to remember your face," said the commander.
"Yes, sir. I served along 'o you in th' _Bulldorg_ five year ago."
"Indeed. That is most interesting. Well, Smith," eyeing him up and down, "I am always most pleased to see my old s.h.i.+pmates again."
"Yes, sir," answered the burly one, trying hard to look pleased himself, and turning rather red in the effort. As a matter of fact he was wondering if his commanding officer was blessed, or cursed, with a good memory, and if, by any chance, he remembered the occasion when he--Joseph Smith--had last stood before him on the quarterdeck of H.M.S. _Bulldog_. He had stood there as a defaulter, to be punished with ten days' cells and the loss of a hardly-earned good conduct badge, for returning from leave in a state of partial insobriety, and for having indulged in a heated and more than acrimonious discussion with the local constabulary. It had happened several years before, and since then he had turned over a new leaf, but he grew quite nervous at the recollection.
But the skipper, apparently, had quite forgotten it, for he went on speaking. "I am sorry to see, Smith, that, although you have served with me before, you have forgotten what I must have taken the greatest pains to teach you. Your hair is too long, and your beard is not trimmed in the proper service manner. Your trousers are at least two inches too tight round the knee, and six inches too slack round the ankle, while the rows of tape on your collar are too close together.
It will not do," he added, glaring unpleasantly. "The uniform regulations are made to be strictly adhered to. Mr. Falland!"
"Sir."
"Have this man's bag inspected in the dinner hour every day for a fortnight. See that his hair is properly cut by next Sunday, and see that he either shaves himself clean, or that he does not use a razor at all, according to the regulations. I am surprised that you should have allowed him to come to divisions in this condition."
"Very good, sir."
The Commander pa.s.sed on, leaving the delinquent with his mouth wide open in astonishment and righteous indignation. Smith was firmly of the opinion that his beard was everything that a beard should be, while, quite rightly, he had always prided himself on being one of the best dressed men in the s.h.i.+p. Any little irregularities in his attire, irregularities not countenanced by the regulations, were merely introduced for the purpose of making himself smarter than ever. It was a sad blow to his pride.
But many others suffered in the same way, for hardly a man in the division was dressed according to the strict letter of the law. Some had the tapes on their jumpers too high or too low; others had the V-shaped openings in front a trifle too deep; many, in their endeavours to make their loose trousers still more rakish, wore them in too flowing a manner over their feet, and still more, in their anxiety not to spoil the set of their jumpers, carried no 'p.u.s.s.er's daggers,' or knives, attached to their lanyards. Altogether the first Sunday was a regular debacle for the _Puffin's_ but an undoubted triumph for Commander Potvin.
"Mr. Falland," he said, having walked round the ranks. "I am sorry to find all this laxity in the important matter of dress, and I rely upon you to take immediate steps to have it rectified."
"Aye, aye, sir."
"And," the skipper continued, "I notice that you fall your men in according to size. I know that some commanding officers like to inspect the men in this way, but personally I prefer to have them grouped according to appearance. For instance, tall men together, short men together, and the same thing with the fat and the thin, the bearded and the clean-shaven."
"Very good, sir. But--" the navigator hesitated.
"But what, Mr. Falland?"
"Suppose a man is tall, thin, and bearded, sir?" asked Falland, in utter perplexity.
"Seize upon his predominant feature, Mr. Falland, and use your own discretion in the matter," said the Captain, half suspecting that his subordinate was trying to make fun of him, but knowing full well that, whatever the navigator did, he could always find fault with it.
He marched forward to continue his rounds, leaving the astonished divisional officer wondering if he was also to form special detachments of red-faced sailors, white-faced sailors, snub-nosed sailors, and bandy-legged sailors.
The inspection of the upper-deck and mess-deck pa.s.sed without much comment, the Captain even saying that he was glad to see that the s.h.i.+p was 'quite clean,' a term which made the zealous Pardoe writhe with annoyance; but the next thing which caught his attention was a small hencoop containing eight or nine miserable, bedraggled-looking fowls.
"Bless my soul, First Lieutenant!" said he. "Look at these fowls!"
They were sorry looking birds, it is true, but Chinese chickens are not renowned for their beauty and sprightliness of appearance at the best of times.
"They seem quite healthy, sir," the First Lieutenant answered, putting his head on one side in a most judicial manner.
"Yes, yes," murmured the Commander. "But they are all the colours of the rainbow. White, yellow, brown, grey, and black."
"So they are, sir," said Pardoe, as if he had observed the astounding fact for the first time.
"Who do they belong to?"
"They're yours, sir. Your steward looks after them."
"Does he, indeed?" said the skipper, rather nonplussed. "Well, send for my steward."
The portly and dignified Ah Fong presently appeared.
"Is it not possible for you to buy fowls of all the same colour?" the "Owner" wanted to know.
Ah Fong stared in hopeless bewilderment, trying to grasp his master's meaning. "My no savvy, sah," he said, shaking his head.
"Can you not buy your chickens, or my chickens, rather, all one colour?
White, for preference, as the weather is hot."
"I savvy, sah," exclaimed the Chinaman, with a beatific smile slowly spreading over his countenance. "You no likee black piecee hen, sah?"
"No, no, that's not what I mean at all," said Potvin, going off into a long explanation.
At last Ah Fong began to understand what was wanted. "No can do, sah!"
he expostulated. "S'pose I go 'sh.o.r.e catch piecee hen. I say to one man, I wanchee plentee fat piecee hen, no wanchee olo piecee, wanchee young plenty big piecee hen for capten...."
"I really cannot waste my time listening to this senseless conversation!" interrupted the Captain, with some petulance. "Mr.
Pardoe, you will kindly explain to him that in future all the fowls on board are to be white in the summer, and blue... 'er, I mean black, in the winter. I will have them in the proper dress of the day like the s.h.i.+p's company, do you understand?"
"I do, sir," said the wretched Pardoe with an inaudible sigh, as the little procession moved on.
He did explain to the steward what was required, and Ah Fong was confronted with a dilemma. However, he had his wits about him, and the next Sunday morning, to Number One's intense astonishment, every wretched fowl in the coop, black, grey, or brown, had been freshly whitewashed. Their feathers were all plastered together, and they looked supremely unhappy and more bedraggled than ever, but the captain's aesthetic eye was apparently satisfied, for he pa.s.sed them by with a glance and made no adverse remarks.
After the ordeal of divisions the mess-stools, chairs for the officers, and reading desk were brought up and placed on desk under the awnings, and at 10.30, when church had been "rigged," the tolling of the bell summoned the officers and s.h.i.+p's company to divine service. Pardoe, after satisfying himself that everything was ready, went aft to report to the Captain, and, somewhat to the surprise of everyone, Commander Potvin presently appeared without his tunic, advanced to the reading desk, and started the service.
At first people thought that he had discarded his jacket merely for the sake of coolness, and, as the day was unusually hot, some of the other officers were half inclined to follow his sensible example. But when at last church was over and Pardoe had occasion to see the Captain again, he discovered the real reason for the "Owner's" removal of his outer garment.
"You may have noticed, Lieutenant Pardoe, that I took the precaution to remove my tunic before reading the Church service," said the skipper.
"I did, sir," answered the First Lieutenant. "In fact, it was so hot, that I nearly followed your example."
Potvin glared. "I hardly understand what you mean, Mr. Pardoe?" he said with asperity. "The fact of its being hot or cold does not effect my religious ideas."
"I beg your pardon, sir. I thought that..."
"Kindly do not impute these motives to me," the Commander went on to say. "I consider that we should all attend divine service in a state of the utmost humility, and I removed my tunic so that I should appear before the Almighty in the same simple garb as the men, not as their commanding officer!" He puffed out his chest with importance.