Sketches by Seymour Part 19

It was a hard alternative truly; but what could she do? The long boat was soon alongside, and was not long before it was filled with tars and salt-water. Alas! she was speedily swamped, and the crew were compelled to swim for their lives. Peter, however, could not swim, but the sea gave him a lift in his dilemma, and washed him clean ash.o.r.e, where he lay for some time like a veritable lump of salt-Peter! When the storm had abated he came to himself, and of course found himself in no agreeable company!

Sticking his c.o.c.ked-hat on his head, and grasping his dirk in his hand, he tottered to a rock, when, seating himself, he philosophically rocked to and fro. "Oh! vy vos I a mids.h.i.+pman," cried he, "to be wrecked on this desolate island? I vish I vos at home at Bloomsbury! Oh! that I had but to turn and embrace my kind, good, benevolent, and much respected grandmother." As he uttered this pathetic plaint, he heard a chatter--of which, at first considering that it proceeded from his own teeth, he took no notice--but the sounds being repeated, he turned his head, and beheld a huge baboon with a dog-face and flowing hair, grinning with admiration at his c.o.c.ked hat.

One look was sufficient! he leaped from his seat, and rushed wildly forward, threading a wood in his way, and turning in and out--in and out --with the sharpness and facility of a needle in the heel of a worsted stocking--he never stayed his flight, 'till he fell plump into the centre of a group of Indians, who received him with a yell!--loud enough to split the drums of a whole drawing-room full of ears polite.

He would have fallen headlong with fear and exhaustion upon the turf, had not a gentle female caught the slender youth in her arms, and embraced him with all the energetic affection of a boa-constrictor.

Peter trembled like a little inoffensive mouse in the claws of a tabby!

At the same time one of the Indians stepped forward, brandis.h.i.+ng his scalping knife.

He was the very prototype of an animated bronze Hercules; and, seizing the poor middy's lank locks, with a peculiar twist, in his iron grasp--Peter fainted!

PETER SIMPLE'S FOREIGN ADVENTURE. No. II.

"O! what a lost mutton am I!"--Inkle and Yarico.

Most luckily for poor Peter was it, that he fell into the hands, or rather the arms, of the Indian maid; for she not only preserved his crop, but his life. When he recovered from his swoon, he found himself seated beside his preserver, who, with one arm round his waist, was holding a cocoa-nut, filled with a refres.h.i.+ng beverage, to his parched and pallid lips. A large fire blazed in the middle of the wide s.p.a.ce occupied by the Indians, and he beheld the well-known coats and jackets of the brave crew of the Firefly scattered on the greensward.

His heart palpitated-he thought at first that the villainous Indians had stripped them, and left them to wander in a state of nature through the tangled and briery woods. He was, however, soon--too soon--convinced that the savages had dressed them! Yes, that merry crew--who had so often roasted him--had been roasted by the Indians!

From this awful fate the lovely Ootanga had preserved him. She had suddenly conceived a violent affection for the young white-face; and, after a long harangue to the chief, her father, his consent was obtained, and the nuptials were celebrated.

"I smell a rat," said Peter--"I'm booked; but better booked than cooked, at any rate;" and forthwith returned thanks to the company for the honour they had conferred upon him, in the fas.h.i.+on of an after-dinner speech, accompanied with as much pantomime as he could manage.

A dance and a feast followed, of which Peter partook; but whether rabbit, squirrel, or monkey, formed the basis of his wedding-supper, he was not naturalist enough to determine.

Ootanga's affection, however, was sufficient to make amends for anything; she was, in truth, a most killing beauty, for she brought him tigers slain by her own hands, and made a couch for him of the skins.

She caught rattlesnakes for him, and spitch-cooked them for his breakfast. In fact, there was nothing she left undone to convince him of her unbounded love.

Peter's heart, however, was untouched by all this show of tenderness; for the fact is, he had already given his heart to a white-face in his own country.

The only consolation he had in his forlorn situation was to talk of her continually; and, as Ootanga understood not a syllable of what he uttered, she naturally applied all his tender effusions to herself, and laughed and grinned, and showed her white teeth, as if she would devour her little husband.

Seated on a tiger skin, with his lawful spouse beside him, arrayed in sh.e.l.ls, bows, feathers, and all the adornments of a savage bride, he still sighed for home, and plaintively exclaimed:--

"Here I am, married to the only daughter of the great chief, who would have roasted me with the rest of our crew, had I not given a joyful consent. Oh! I wonder if I ever shall get home, and be married to Miss Wiggins!!!"

The lovely wide-mouthed Ootanga patted him fondly on the chin, and dreamed in her ignorance that he was paying her a compliment in his native language.

DOBBS'S "DUCK."

A LEGEND OF HORSELYDOWN.

It may be accepted as an indubitable truth, that when the tenderest epithets are bandied between a married couple, that the domestic affairs do not go particularly straight.

Dobbs and his rib were perhaps the most divided pair that ever were yoked by Hymen. D. was a good-humored fellow, a jovial blade, full of high spirits--while his wife was one of the most cross-grained and cantankerous bodies that ever man was blessed with--and yet, to hear the sweet diminutives which they both employed in their dialogues, the world would have concluded that they were upon the best terms conceivable.

"My love," quoth Mrs. D., "I really now should like to take a boat and row down the river as far as Battersea; the weather is so very fine, and you know, my dear love, how fond I am of the water."

D. could have added (and indeed it was upon the very tip of his tongue)--"mixed with spirits"--but he wisely restrained the impertinent allusion.

"Well, my duck," said he, "you have only to name the day, you know, I am always ready to please,"--and then, as was his habit, concluded his gracious speech by singing--

"'Tis woman vot seduces all mankind-- Their mother's teach them the wheedling art."

"Hold your nonsense, do," replied Mrs. D____, scarcely able to restrain her snappish humour, but, fearful of losing the jaunt, politically added, "Suppose, love, we go to-day--no time like the present, dear."

"Thine am I--thine am I," sang the indulgent husband.

And Mrs. D____ hereupon ordered the boy to carry down to the stairs a cargo of brandy, porter, and sandwiches, for the intended voyage, and taking her dear love in the humour, presently appeared duly decked out for the trip.

Two watermen and a wherry were soon obtained, and Dobbs, lighting his cigar, alternately smoked and sang, while his duck employed herself most agreeably upon the sandwiches.

The day was bright and sunny, and exceedingly hot; and they had scarcely rowed as far as the Red-House, when Mrs. D____became rather misty, from the imbibation of the copious draughts she had swallowed to quench her thirst.

A lighter being a-head, the boatmen turned round, while Dobbs, casting up his eyes to the blue heavens, was singing, in the hilarity of his heart, "Hearts as warm as those above, lie under the waters cold," when the boat heeled, and his duck, who unfortunately could not swim, slipped gently over the gunwhale, and, unnoticed, sank to rise no more.

"Ah!" said Dobbs, when, some months afterwards, he was speaking of the sad bereavement, "She was a wife! I shall never get such another, and, what's more, I would not if I could."

STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM.

Among all the extraordinary and fantastic dishes compounded for the palate of Heliogabalus, the Prince of Epicures, that delicious admixture of the animal and the vegetable--Strawberries and Cream--is never mentioned in the pages of the veracious chronicler of his gastronomic feats!

Yes! 'tis a lamentable truth, this smooth, oleaginous, and delicately odorous employment for the silver spoon, was unknown. Should the knowledge of his loss reach him in the fields of Elysium, will not his steps be incontinently turned towards the borders of the Styx--his plaintive voice hail the grim ferryman, while in his most persuasive tones he cries--

"Row me back--row me back,"

that he may enjoy, for a brief s.p.a.ce, this untasted pleasure? Ye G.o.ds!

in our mind's eye we behold the heartless and unfeeling Charon refuse his earnest prayer, and see his languid spirit--diluted by disappointment to insipidity--wandering over the enamelled meads, as flat and shallow as an overflow in the dank fens of Lincoln.

His imagination gloats upon the fragrant invention, and he gulps at the cheating shadow until Elysium becomes a perfect Hades to his tortured spirit.

Mellow, rich, and toothsome compound! Toothsome did we say? Nay, even those who have lost their 'molares, incisores,' canine teeth, 'dentes sapientiae,' and all can masticate and inwardly digest thee!