After much heated discussion, it was unanimously resolved to protest at once against the substitution of such a fraud as this poultry for our legitimate rations of "salt horse." so, bearing the DISJECTA MEMBRA of our meal, the whole crowd marched aft, and requested an interview with the skipper.He came out of the cabin at once, saying, "Well, boys, what's the matter?" The spokesman, a bald-headed Yankee, who had been bo'sun's mate of an American man-of-war, stepped forward and said, offering his kid, "Jest have a look at that sir." The skipper looked, saying, inquiringly, "Well?" "D'yew think, sir," said Nat, "THET'Sproper grub for men?" "Proper grub! Why, you old sinner, you don't mean to say you're goin' to growl about havin' chicken for dinner?" "Well, sir, it depends muchly upon the chicken.All Iknow is, that I've et some dam queer tack in my time, but sence Iben fishin' I never had no such bundles of sticks parcelled with leather served out to me.I HEV et boot--leastways gnawed it;when I was cast away in a open boat for three weeks--but it wa'n't bad boot, as boots go.Now, if yew say that these things is boots, en thet it's necessary we should eat'em, or starve, w'y, we'll think about it.But if yew call'em chickens,'n say you're doin' us a kindness by stoppin' our'lowance of meat wile we're wrastlin' with 'em, then we say we don't feel obliged to yew, 'n 'll thank yew kindly to keep such lugsuries for yerself, 'n give us wot we signed for." A murmur of assent confirmed this burst of eloquence, which we all considered a very fine effort indeed.A moment's silence ensued; then the skipper burst out, "I've often heard of such things, but hang me if I ever believed 'em till now! You ungrateful beggars! I'll see you get your whack, and no more, from this out.When you get any little extras aboard this ship agen, you'll be thankful for 'em; now Itell you." "All right, sir," said Nat; "so long as we don't hev to chaw any more of yer biled Bimly crows, I dessay we shall worry along as usual." And, as the Parliamentary reports say, the proceedings then terminated.
Now, suppose the skipper had told the story to some of his shore friends, how very funny the sailors' conduct would have been made to appear.
On another occasion long after, when I was mate of a barque loading mahogany in Tonala, Mexico, the skipper thought he would practise economy by buying a turtle instead of beef.A large turtle was obtained for twenty-five cents, and handed over to the cook to be dealt with, particular instructions being given him as to the apportionment of the meat.
At eight bells there was a gathering of the men in front of the poop, and a summons for the captain.When he appeared, the usual stereotyped invitation to "have a look at THAT, if you please, sir," was uttered.The skipper was, I think, prepared for a protest, for he began to bluster immediately."Look here!" he bawled, "I ain't goin' to 'ave any of your dam nonsense.You WANTsomethin' to growl about, you do." " Well, Cap'n George," said one of the men, "you shorely don't think we k'n eat shells, do yer?" Just then I caught sight of the kid's contents, and could hardly restrain my indignation.For in a dirty heap, the sight of which might have pleased an Esquimaux, but was certainly enough to disgust any civilized man, lay the calipee, or under-shell of the turtle, hacked into irregular blocks.It had been simply boiled, and flung into the kid, an unclean, disgusting heap of shell, with pieces of dirty flesh attached in ragged lumps.But the skipper, red-faced and angry, answered, "W'y, yer so-and-so ijits, that's wot the Lord Mayor of London gives about a guinea a hounce for w'en 'e feeds lords n' dooks.Only the haristocracy at 'ome get a charnce to stick their teeth in such grub as that.An' 'ere are you lot a-growlin' at 'avin' it for a change!" "That's all right, cap'n," said the man; "bein' brort up ter such lugsuries, of corse you kin appreshyate it.So if yer keep it fer yer own eatin', an' giv us wot we signed for, we shall be werry much obliged." "Now, I ain't a-goin" to 'ave none o' YOUR cheek, so you'd better git forrard.You can betcher life you won't get no more fresh messes this voy'ge." So, with grumbling and ill-will on both sides, the conference came to an end.But I thought, and still think, that the mess set before those men, who had been working hard since six a.m., was unfit for the food of a good dog.
Out of my own experience I might give many other instances of the kind, but I hope these will suffice to show that Jack's growling is often justified, when both sides of the story are heard.
