<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
<p class="center">THE TALKING WAVES, AND THE OLD SEA-DOG.</p>
<p>"I wonder why the ocean doesn't keep still sometimes, and not be
moving its edge about all the time," said Davy, after watching the
waves that constantly rolled up on the beach and then rolled back
again, looking like creamy soap-suds.</p>
<p>"That wouldn't do at all!" said a Wave that rolled almost up to his
feet. "The beach gets mussed, you see, and we have to smooth it off
again. The sea is always tidy;" and here the Wave broke with a little,
murmuring laugh, and rolled back again, all in a foam.</p>
<p>Davy was so astonished that it almost took away his breath. A talking
Wave was certainly the most marvellous thing he had met with, and in
an instant he was lying flat on his face, trembling with eagerness,
and waiting for the next Wave to roll up on the shore.</p>
<p>It came in a moment, and gently whispered, "If we didn't wet the sand
once in a while there wouldn't be any nuts on the beach-trees,—no
nuts on the trees, and no shells on the shore;" and here this Wave
broke in its turn into foam, and ran back into the sea.</p>
<p>"This is perfectly delicious!" said Davy, joyfully, and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</SPAN></span>
as the next
Wave rolled up to him he softly asked, "Do you know the Whale?"</p>
<p>"Know him!" cried the Wave, passionately; "I should think I did! Many
a time I've been spanked by his horrid old tail. The nasty,
blundering, floundering, walloping old"—and here the end of the
sentence dribbled away in a sort of washy whisper.</p>
<p>"Such a mouth!" said the next Wave, taking up the story. "Like a
fishing-smack lined with red morocco! And such a temper! I wouldn't be
so crusty for all"—but just here the Wave toppled over as usual, and
the rest of the sentence ran back into the sea.</p>
<p>"Once," said the next Wave, still scolding about the Whale,—"once he
got so far up on the shore that he couldn't get back into the water
for a long time, and he blamed me for it, and called me names. He said
I was a mean, low tide;" but just as Davy was eagerly listening for
the rest of the story this Wave, like the rest, broke into foam and
washed away.</p>
<p>"It's really too ridiculous, the way they break off their sentences!"
cried Davy, impatiently.</p>
<p>"Is it, indeed!" said a big Wave, coming in with a rush. "Perhaps
you'd like to get acquainted with an angry sea!"</p>
<p>It was an angry sea, indeed; for, as the Wave said this, the ocean was
suddenly lashed into fury, the water rose into huge, green billows
that came tossing up on the shore, and Davy, scrambling to his feet,
ran for his life.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</SPAN></span>
The air was filled with flying spray, and he could
hear the roar of the water coming on behind him with a mighty rush as
he ran across the beach, not daring to stop until he found himself out
of reach of the angry ocean, on a high bluff of sand. Here he stopped,
quite out of breath, and looked back.</p>
<p>The wind was blowing fiercely, and a cloud of spray was dashed in his
face as he turned toward it, and presently the air was filled with
lobsters, eels, and wriggling fishes that were being carried inshore
by the gale. Suddenly, to Davy's astonishment, a dog came sailing
along. He was being helplessly blown about among the lobsters,
uneasily jerking his tail from side to side to keep it out of reach of
their great claws, and giving short, nervous barks from time to time,
as though he were firing signal-guns of distress. In fact, he seemed
to be having such a hard time of it that Davy caught him by the ear as
he was going by, and landed him in safety on the beach. He proved to
be a very shaggy, battered-looking animal, in an old pea-jacket, with
a weather-beaten tarpaulin hat jammed on the side of his head, and a
patch over one eye; altogether he was the most extraordinary-looking
animal that could be imagined, and Davy stood staring at him, and
wondering what sort of a dog he was.</p>
<p>"Are you a pointer?" he said at last, by way of opening conversation.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</SPAN></span>
"Not I," said the Dog, sulkily. "It's rude to point. I'm an old
Sea-Dog, come ashore in a gale."</p>
<p>Here he stared doubtfully at Davy for a moment, and then said, in a
husky voice:—</p>
<p>"What's the difference between a dog-watch and a watch-dog? It's a
conundrum."</p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i028.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="285" alt="DAVY ASSISTS THE OLD SEA-DOG." title="DAVY ASSISTS THE OLD SEA-DOG." /> <span class="caption"><small>DAVY ASSISTS THE OLD SEA-DOG.</small></span></div>
<p>"I don't know," said Davy, who would have laughed if he had not been a
little afraid of the Dog.</p>
<p>"A dog-watch keeps a watching on a bark," said the old Sea-Dog; "and a
watch-dog keeps a barking on a watch." Here he winked at Davy, and
said, "What's <i>your</i> name?" as if he had just mentioned his own.</p>
<p>"Davy"—began the little boy, but before he could say
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</SPAN></span>
another word
the old Sea-Dog growled, "Right you are!" and, handing him a folded
paper, trotted gravely away, swaggering, as he went, like a seafaring
man.</p>
<p>The paper was addressed to "<i>Davy Jones</i>," and was headed inside,
"<i>Binnacle Bob: His werses</i>;" and below these words Davy found the
following story:—</p>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" width="70%" summary="">
<tr>
<td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>To inactivity inclined</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Was Captain Parker Pitch's mind</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>In point of fact, 'twas fitted for</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>A sedentary life ashore.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>His disposition, so to speak</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Was nautically soft and weak</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He feared the rolling ocean, and</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He very much preferred the land.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>A stronger-minded man by far</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Was gallant Captain Thompson Tar</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And (what was very wrong, I think)</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He marked himself with India ink.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He boldly sailed the "Soaking Sue"</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>When angry gales and tempests blew</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And even from the nor-nor-east</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He didn't mind 'em in the least.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Now, Captain Parker Pitch's sloop</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Was called the "Cozy Chickencoop,"</i>—</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>A truly comfortable craft</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>With ample state-rooms fore and aft.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</SPAN></span>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>No foolish customs of the deep</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Like "watches," robbed his crew of sleep</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>That estimable lot of men</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Were all in bed at half-past ten.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>At seven bells, one stormy day</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Bold Captain Tar came by that way</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And in a voice extremely coarse</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He roared "Ahoy!" till he was hoarse.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Next morning, of his own accord</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>This able seaman came aboard</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And made the following remark</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Concerning Captain Pitch's bark:</i>—</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>"Avast!" says he, "Belay! What cheer!</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>How comes this little wessel here?</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Come, tumble up your crew," says he</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>"And navigate a bit with me!"</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Says Captain Pitch, "I can't refuse</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>To join you on a friendly cruise</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>But you'll oblige me, Captain Tar</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>By not a-taking of me far."</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>At this reply from Captain Pitch</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Bold Thompson gave himself a hitch</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>It cut him to the heart to find</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>A seaman in this frame of mind.</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</SPAN></span>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>"Avast!" says he; "we'll bear away</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>For Madagascar and Bombay</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Then down the coast to Yucatan</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Kamtschatka, Guinea, and Japan."</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>"Stand off for Egypt, Turkey, Spain</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Australia, and the Spanish Main</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Then through the nor-west passage for</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Van Dieman's Land and Labrador."</i></span><br/>
</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i029.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="348" alt="" title="" /></div>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" width="70%" summary="">
<tr>
<td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Says Captain Pitch, "The ocean swell</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Makes me exceedingly unwell</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And, Captain Tar, before we start</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Pray join me in a friendly tart</i>."</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And shall I go and take and hide</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The sneaking trick that Parker tried?</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Oh! no. I very much prefer</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>To state his actions as they were:</i></span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</SPAN></span>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>With marmalade he first began</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>To tempt that bluff seafaring man</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Then fed him all the afternoon</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>With custard in a table-spoon</i>.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>No mariner, however tough,</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Can thrive upon this kind of stuff</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And Thompson soon appeared to be</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>A feeble-minded child of three.</i></span><br/>
</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i030.jpg" width-obs="500" height-obs="339" alt="" title="" /></div>
<div class="centered">
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="4" width="70%" summary="">
<tr>
<td><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He cried for cakes and lollipops</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He played with dolls and humming-tops</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>He even ceased to roar "I'm blowed!"</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And shook a rattle, laughed, and crowed</i>.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>When Parker saw the seamen gaze</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Upon the captain's cunning ways</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Base envy thrilled him through and through</i>.</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>And he became a child of two</i>.</span><br/>
<br/>
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</SPAN></span>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Now, Parker had in his employ</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>A mate, two seamen, and a boy</i>;</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>The mate was fond as he could be</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Of babies, and he says, says he,</i>—</span><br/>
<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>"Why, messmates, as we're all agreed</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Sea-bathing is the thing they need</i>,</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Let's drop these hinfants off the quarter!"</i></span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>(They did, in fourteen fathom water)</i>.</span><br/>
</td>
</tr>
</table></div>
<p>—and here the story came abruptly to an end.</p>
<p>Davy was quite distressed at this, particularly as the dreadful
thought came into his mind that some babies do not know how to swim,
and he was therefore very well satisfied when he saw that the old
Sea-Dog had apparently changed his mind about going away, and was
swaggering along toward him again.</p>
<p>"If you please," said Davy, as the surly creature came within hearing
distance,—"if you please, sir, were the two little captains drowned?"</p>
<p>"Well, sticking, as it were, to the truth, they were not," replied the
old Sea-Dog, very gruffly.</p>
<p>"Then, why don't you say so in the story?" said Davy.</p>
<p>Now, this was pretty bold of him, for old Sea-Dogs don't much like to
have fault found with their verses, and this particular old Sea-Dog
evidently did not like it at all, for, after staring at Davy for a
moment, he began walking
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</SPAN></span>
slowly around him in such a threatening
manner that Davy, thinking that perhaps he meant to jump on him from
behind, began also turning so as to keep his face always toward the
Dog. Meanwhile, as you may well believe, he began to feel very sorry
that he had said anything about the verses.</p>
<p>Presently the old Sea-Dog broke into a clumsy canter, like a weary old
circus horse, and as he went heavily around the circle he began to
explain about the story. "You see there's more of it," said he,
wheezing dreadfully as he galloped; "but then I haven't had the time
to put the rest of it in rhyme. It's all about old Thompson's crew as
stayed aboard the 'Soaking Sue,' and saw the skippers floating by and
hauled 'em out and got 'em dry, and when the little creeturs cried
they gave 'em something warm inside, and being as they had no bed they
stowed 'em in a bunk instead,"—but just at this moment the old
Sea-Dog, who had been constantly increasing his speed, disappeared in
a most extraordinary manner in a whirling cloud of sand, and Davy, who
was by this time spinning around like a teetotum, discovered that he
himself was rapidly boring his way, like a big screw, down into the
beach. This was, of course, a very alarming state of things; but,
before Davy could make an effort to free himself, the whirling cloud
of sand burst upon him with a loud, roaring sound like the sea, and he
felt himself going directly down through the beach, with the sand
pouring in upon him as if he had been inside of a huge hour-glass.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</SPAN></span>
He
had just time to notice that, instead of scraping him, the sand had a
delightful ticklesome feeling about it, when he went completely
through the beach, and landed, with a gentle thump, flat on his back,
with tall grass waving about him.</p>
<hr style="width: 33%;" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />