"It is done," exclaimed the Dominie, with a sigh, putting the fragment into the remaining pocket; "and it cannot be undone."
"Now, I think it is undone, and can be done, master," replied Tom. "A needle and thread will soon join the pieces of your old coat again--in _holy_ matrimony, I may safely say--"
"True. (_Cluck, cluck_.) My housekeeper will restore it; yet will she be wroth, "_Feminae curaeque iraeque_;" but let us think no more about it," cried the Dominie, drinking deeply from his pannikin, and each minute verging fast to intoxication. ""_Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero pulsanda tellus_." I feel as if I were lifted up, and could dance, yea, and could exalt my voice and sing."
"Could you, my jolly old master? then we will both dance and sing--
"Come, let us dance and sing, While all Barbadoes bells shall ring, Mars sc.r.a.pes the fiddle string While Venus plays the lute.
Hymen gay, trips away, Jocund at the wedding day.
"Now for chorus--
"Come, let us dance and sing."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
THE "FUN GROWS FAST AND FURIOUS"--THE PEDAGOGUE DOES NOT SCAN CORRECTLY, AND HIS FEET BECOME VERY UNEQUAL--AN ALLEGORICAL COMPLIMENT ALMOST WORKED UP INTO A LITERAL QUARREL--AT LENGTH THE MIGHTY ARE LAID LOW, AND THE DOMINIE HURTS HIS NOSE.
I heard Tom"s treble, and a creaking noise, which I recognised to proceed from the Dominie, who had joined the chorus; and I went aft, if possible to prevent further excess; but I found that the grog had mounted into the Dominie"s head, and all my hints were disregarded. Tom was despatched for the other bottle, and the Dominie"s pannikin was replenished, old Tom roaring out--
"Come, sling the flowing bowl; Fond hopes arise, The girls we prize Shall bless each jovial soul; The can, boys, bring, We"ll dance and sing, While foaming billows roll.
"Now for the chorus again--
"Come, sling the flowing bowl, etcetera.
"Jacob, why don"t you join?" The chorus was given by the whole of us.
The Dominie"s voice was even louder, though not quite so musical, as old Tom"s.
"_Evoe_!" cried the Dominie; "_evoe! cantemus_.
"_Amo, amas_--I loved a la.s.s, For she was tall and slender; _Amas, amat_--she laid me flat, Though of the feminine gender.
"Truly do I not forget the songs of my youth, and of my hilarious days: yet doth the potent spirit work upon me like the G.o.d in the c.u.mean sybil; and I shall soon prophecy that which shall come to pa.s.s."
"So can I," said Tom, giving me a nudge, and laughing.
"Do thine office of Ganymede, and fill up the pannikin; put not in too much of the element. Once more exalt thy voice, good Dux."
"Always ready, master," cried Tom, who sang out again in praise of his favourite liquor--
"Smiling grog is the sailor"s best hope, his sheet anchor, His compa.s.s, his cable, his log, That gives him a heart which life"s cares cannot canker.
Though dangers around him, Unite to confound him, He braves them, and tips off his grog.
"Tis grog, only grog, Is his rudder, his compa.s.s, his cable, his log, The sailor"s sheet anchor is grog."
"Verily, thou art an Apollo--or, rather, referring to thy want of legs, half an Apollo--that is, a _demi_-G.o.d. (_Cluck, cluck_.) Sweet is thy lyre, friend Dux."
"Fair words, master; I"m no liar," cried Tom. "Clap a stopper on your tongue, or you"ll get into disgrace."
"_Ubi lapsus quid feci_," said the Dominie; "I spoke of thy musical tongue; and, furthermore, I spoke alle-gori-cal-ly."
"I know a man lies with his tongue as well as you do, old chap; but as for telling a _h.e.l.l of a_ (something) _lie_, as you states, I say I never did," rejoined old Tom, who was getting cross in his cups.
I now interfered, as there was every appearance of a fray; and in spite of young Tom, who wished, as he termed it, to _kick up a shindy_, prevailed upon them to make friends, which they did, shaking hands for nearly five minutes. When this was ended, I again entreated the Dominie not to drink any more, but to go to bed.
"_Amice, Jacobe_," replied the Dominie; "the liquor hath mounted into thy brain, and thou wouldst rebuke thy master and thy preceptor. Betake thee to thy couch, and sleep off the effects of thy drink. Verily, Jacob, thou art _plenus Veteris Bacchi_; or, in plain English, thou art drunk. Canst thou conjugate, Jacob? I fear not. Canst thou decline, Jacob? I fear not. Canst thou scan, Jacob? I fear not. Nay, Jacob, methinks that thou art unsteady in thy gait, and not over clear in thy vision. Canst thou hear, Jacob? if so, I will give thee an oration against inebriety, with which thou mayest down on thy pillow. Wilt thou have it in Latin or in Greek?"
"O, d.a.m.n your Greek and Latin!" cried old Tom; "keep that for to-morrow.
Sing us a song, my old hearty; or shall I sing you one? Here goes--
"For while the grog goes round, All sense of danger"s drown"d, We despise it to a man; We sing a little--"
"Sing a little," bawled the Dominie.
"And laugh a little--"
"Laugh a little," chorused young Tom.
"And work a little--"
"Work a little," cried the Dominie.
"And swear a little--"
"Swear _not_ a little," echoed Tom.
"And fiddle a little--"
"Fiddle a little," hiccuped the Dominie.
"And foot it a little--"
"Foot it a little," repeated Tom.
"And swig the flowing can, And fiddle a little, And foot it a little, And swig the flowing can--"
roared old Tom, emptying his pannikin.
"And swig the flowing can--"
followed the Dominie, tossing off his.
"And swig the flowing can--"
cried young Tom turning up his pannikin empty.
"Hurrah! that"s what I calls glorious. Let"s have it over again, and then we"ll have another dose. Come, now, all together." Again was the song repeated; and when they came to "foot it a little," old Tom jumped on his stumps, seizing hold of the Dominie, who immediately rose, and the three danced round and round for a minute or two, singing the song and chorus, till old Tom, who was very far gone, tripped against the coamings of the hatchway, pitching his head into the Dominie"s stomach, who fell backwards, clinging to young Tom"s hand; so that they all rolled on the deck together--my worthy preceptor underneath the other two.