CHAPTER XX.

THE STEAMER MIDDY.

“I’m much obleeged to you, Jack Somers, for what you done,” said Becket, as they sat down in the mizzen-top, on the evening after the conference at the mainmast.

“I knew, after what had happened, that the first-luff would want you to have your old place; and I thought I’d help him out a bit,” replied Jack.

“It was handsome of you, Jack; and, with all my faults, I’m not mean enough to keep still after what you’ve done for me. You’ve been unanimous--no, that’s not what the shore lubbers call it.”

“Magnanimous,” added Rushington, whose vocabulary was more extensive than that of the mass of man-of-war’s men.

“Ay, ay: that’s the word. It’s as long as a frigate’s cable; but it’s just what I meant. You saved my life, and you have always treated me handsomely, Somers. Now you’ve put me back just where I was before. I don’t want to be foolish, Jack; but I’d do anything in the world for you.”

“Thank you, Becket. I’m glad I had a chance to do you a good turn.”

“I’ve been a rough fellow, in my day; but you’ve taught me a lesson that all the parsons in the country couldn’t have got into my nuddle. By the way, Jack, do you know what I thought of you when we first come aboard the ship?”

“I haven’t the least idea.”

“Well, Jack, I thought you was one of them pious sort of lubbers that say long prayers, and go canting up and down the rigging, and shirk their duty whenever they get a chance,--one of them chaps that’s always preaching what they don’t practice.”

“I don’t see where you got such an idea as that of me.”

“Nor I nuther, Jack; but I did get it: and I was determined to make you show your hand, or pick a quarrel with you. We had some talk about you in mess No. 2, and I told the boys I meant to show you up. I was rather taken aback when you wouldn’t odd-and-even. You got the laugh on me, and I meant to sarve you out for it. You’re a good fellow, Jack; and, what’s more’n that, you’re just my idee of a good Christian.”

“I’m glad your opinion of me has changed,” laughed Jack. “I’m sure I haven’t lost anything by being fair and just towards you. I’m a quartermaster now, and shall still wear my ‘eagle, anchor, and star.’”

“Silence in the main-top!” shouted the officer of the deck at this interesting point in the conversation.

The sharp rebuke of the officer of the deck was called forth by a disturbance in the main-top, where some extraordinary event appeared to have transpired. Some of the topmen were laughing, and some were swearing; and the aspect of the matter was, that a practical joke had just been perpetrated. The mizzen-top was at once deeply interested in the affairs of the main-top; and the quarter-watch were exceedingly curious to learn the particulars. Jack Somers, whose new rating had relieved him from duty as a topman, came down to learn the facts, which were communicated to him by Ben Blinks.

The captain of the after-guard was an epicure, and had prepared, for his own especial use, a dish of dunderfunk,--a man-of-war delicacy which comes the nearest to what the Tremont House would serve up under the more pretentious title of “cracker-pudding” than any other dish that can be mentioned. It is made of “hard-tack,” pounded up, with “slush” and molasses stirred in, and baked brown in a tin dish. The captain of the after-guard had no relish for the gross viands of the mess-table; for he was a very nice young man. Indeed, all the after-guard are nice young men; being selected for their trim and dandy appearance, because their duty lies on the quarter-deck, to haul the main-braces, to handle the spanker-sheet, brails, and vangs, and similar work in that part of the ship where the officers “most do congregate.”

Spear, the captain of the after-guard, had duly prepared his dish of dunderfunk, and bribed the ship’s cook to bake it for him. At the galley, or cooking-stove, of a large man-of-war, a marine is usually stationed, in busy times, to prevent any evil-disposed persons in the crew from indulging forbidden appetites. In other words, a roast chicken, duck, or goose, has been known to disappear from the galley in the most mysterious manner; but, of course, appropriated by some hungry tars who had not the spirit of the eighth commandment in their hearts. In this manner had Spear’s dunderfunk taken to itself wings; and none better than he knew how vain a thing it would be to find the guilty purloiner of the delicious mess.

The captain of the after-guard was exceedingly wroth at first; but, when his anger had spent itself, he determined to wreak upon the thief or thieves a sweet revenge. The surgeon’s steward kindly provided him with a quantity of ipecacuanha, which the malicious conspirator mixed up with pounded ship-biscuit, and put the dough in a baking-pan. The mess was duly slushed and sweetened, and committed to the care of the ship’s cook, who, with half a dozen others, had been intrusted with the secret.

When the dunderfunk was properly cooked, it was placed in a tempting position; and the cook and marine cunningly afforded the victims abundant opportunity to pilfer the pudding. The half-dozen pairs of eyes that were watching for the issue of the plot presently saw a main-topman slyly appropriate the dish, and carry it to the spar-deck. The fellow hung around the fife-rail of the mainmast for a time; but, as no one seemed to be watching him, he attached to it a small cord which had been dropped down from the main-top for the purpose. It was then hoisted up by the accomplices of the thief, who immediately hastened up to share in the spoil.

The main-topmen partook greedily of the pudding; and, as the medicinal ingredient had been liberally supplied, the victims of the joke were soon in a suffering condition. Spear’s interests were represented in the main-top by a friend; and, as soon as the thief and his accomplices began to be sick, he began to laugh so immoderately, that the joke had to be explained. Not only the stomachs but the tempers of the victims rebelled. They were mad with everybody, and disgusted with themselves; and, while they swore and vowed vengeance upon the authors of the joke, those who had not partaken laughed, till the din from the main-top constituted a breach of discipline, which called forth the sharp rebuke from the officer of the deck.

The history of the joke spread through the ship, and undoubtedly penetrated the sacred recesses of the cabin and wardroom. Every man on board was in a broad grin for the next twenty-four hours; and the victims of the plot became livid with rage when anyone ventured to mention “dunderfunk emetics.” We sincerely hope that the moral influence of the conspiracy was not lost upon them, and that it inspired in them a deep and lasting reverence for the eighth commandment.

We beg the reader’s pardon for the intrusion of this nauseous incident in our story, which nothing but fidelity to the truth of history would have induced us to narrate. It is only a specimen of the practical jokes which men-of-war’s men play off upon each other, and which afford an agreeable, but not always salutary, relief from the monotony of life on board ship, especially in seasons of inactivity.

The Harrisburg had been somewhat injured by the shot and shell of the rebels in the two actions in which she had been engaged; and, while she remained at anchor opposite the city, her repairs were in progress. At the same time, by order of the flag-officer, the little steamer which had been rescued from the flames by the crew of the Harrisburg was refitted for service. A thirty-two-pounder was placed upon her forecastle, and a twenty-four-pounder on each side abaft the paddle-boxes; and she was suitably prepared for the accommodation of her future officers and crew. Her name was changed, and she was henceforth to be known as the Middy. Giving her this undignified appellative was a freak of the naval officers in charge of the difficult task of finding a suitable title for the new-born gunboat: but there was no small degree of fitness in the name; for the steamer was both small and smart, which are supposed to be the representative characteristics of the young gentlemen whose official position is designated by the word.

The Middy made a trial trip when her repairs were completed, and proved herself to be even more than had been anticipated by her sanguine projector. She went down to Fort Jackson, and returned, making splendid time, and working to the entire satisfaction of Mr. Bankhead, who had superintended her alterations. On her arrival from below, she came to anchor under the quarter of the Harrisburg.

On the following day, great was the astonishment of the crew when it was whispered through the ship that Mr. Bankhead, at his own request, had been appointed to the command of the little gunboat. But the report was received with incredulity.

“Don’t you believe one word of it, my darling,” said Tom Longstone, to whom Jack had carried the astounding news.

“I hope it isn’t true,” added Jack, who was sorely troubled at the idea of losing his wardroom friend.

“Not one word of it, my dear. Do you suppose Mr. Bankhead is goin’ for to let himself down into such a little craft as that? Why, Jack, my boy, he ought to have the command of a sloop-of-war.”

“But the Middy is a fine little vessel.”

“No matter for that, my lad: she aren’t big enough to hold a man like Mr. Bankhead. If they should send off Mr. Dickey, or even Mr. McBride, I shouldn’t so much wonder. But to send off the fust-luff in a cockle-shell like that,--why, it aren’t reasonable.”

“But if he should go----”

“I tell you, my darling, he aren’t goin’. Why, I’d almost as soon think of the commodore’s goin’ in her himself!”

“But the officers are selected according to the service they have to perform, as well as to the size of the vessel. The Middy may be ordered to duty which requires one of the best officers in the fleet.”

“That may be, Jack,” said Tom, taking off his cap, and rubbing his bald head.

“Suppose he should go, what will become of me?”

“He aren’t goin’, I tell ye, my dear,” persisted Tom. “You mought as well talk of the cap’n’s goin’ cockswain of the dingy!”

Notwithstanding the very decided opinions of Quartermaster Longstone, Mr. Bankhead was detached from the Harrisburg, and ordered to the Middy. The report passed from the wardroom to the steerage, and thence, through Mr. Bobstock, the boatswain, to Cheeks, sergeant of marines, who conveyed it to a ship’s corporal, by whom it was disseminated through the ship, clothed with such an air of authority, that even Longstone and Grummet were compelled to believe.

“It may be so, Jack,” said Tom.

“There can no longer be a doubt,” added Jack.

“All I got to say is, if it is so, then the Middy’s goin’ to do a big thing somewhere.”

“I wouldn’t care, if I were only sure of going in her,” continued Jack.

“Do you want to go off in the Middy, and leave me here, my darling? Haven’t I watched over you like a baby? Haven’t I mended your trousers, like your grandmother? Didn’t I put that ‘eagle, anchor, and star’ in your blue frock? Haven’t I nussed ye, and tended ye, and made a man-o’-war’s man of ye? And now you want to go for to leave me!”

“No, I don’t want to leave you, Tom. I want you to go with me.”

“You’d sartinly git killed in the fust action, if I w’a’nt there to take care of ye.”

“You shall be there, Tom. I won’t leave the Harrisburg without you, if I can help it.”

“Give us your flipper, my dear. I hain’t got nobody in this world but you, Jack; and, if you cast off and leave me, I won’t keer much what becomes of this old hulk.”

“I will not leave you, if I can help it, Tom,” replied Jack, much moved by the tenderness of the old man.

“I know you won’t, Jack. I allus took you for an honest lad; and, if you desart me, I shall be disappointed,--that’s all. Now read me a chapter in your mother’s Testament, my darling.”

Jack took the Testament from its place of concealment under the mess-table, and read--as he had often done before to the old quartermaster--a portion of a chapter. Tom, as was his habit, commented upon the text in man-of-war style. Our sailor-boy listened, but with only half his attention; for the Middy was still an anxious topic in his mind.

A week elapsed before any decided steps were taken in manning the Middy; and Jack was full of doubts and fears. In the meantime, the little steamer had taken in her ammunition, small-arms, provisions, and stores, and seemed to be entirely ready for a cruise.

We have continually spoken of the Middy as a little steamer; and so she was, when compared with the larger steamers of the fleet: but she was extensive enough to require the services of forty men, including petty-officers and marines, besides her officers and the engineers and firemen. Her crew was selected with great care from the squadron; and we are happy to inform our anxious readers that both Jack Somers and Tom Longstone were drafted into her, to their intense satisfaction.

Passed-midshipman Hayswell was appointed first-lieutenant, and Mr. Midshipman Dickey was ordered to the little gunboat in the capacity of second-lieutenant,--a promotion which added three inches to his height in a single instant.

The officers and crew of the Middy went on board, and at once made themselves comfortable in their new quarters.