CHAPTER XLII

Grey River Argus, Volume XIII, Issue 1624, 18 October 1873, Page 4

CHAPTER XLII

Frank sitting in Mrs Skimps drawing-; room with Captkin i; Bowker. •"' it is in the morning, but the master mariner is smoking his long cherry-stick pipe. Time hangs somewhat heavily upon his hands since he has had nothing to do. Sometimes he takes the boat and goes down to the docks, where he picks up old friends 1 and spins old yarns. ■ Spinetimes he pays visits; to' ancient haunts at Poplar. Sometiiries he makes a morning call upon his cousin, who lives close by, to please whom he has come to live at Skimps. For the Captain has money — he got it in private ventures during Ms many voyages— besides the little pension whicLhis, late have given him. It was riot ; riitCcffb'ut it" is enough to make it desirable to retain him near the family, for fear of foreign and mligan influences. More often than anything else, the Captain spends Ms mornings at the table in Mrs bkimp's drawing^room, with a sheet off paper and an inkstand, making inmimerable blots as he corrects and adds to his poems. This work, indeed, constitutes the real pleasure of Ms life. To read Ms verses aloud in the presence of a man who listens "without Jaughing, such as Frank Mellishij), is pure and unmixed happiness. To get them printed is a dream which he just permits to himself. Some day, he tliinks — some yet distant day — he will sacrifice the hundred pounds of capital needed to accomplish this object. He must pinch to make up for the loss of five pounds a-year ; but what is a little pinching in comparison with so great an object 1

To-day he has been reading a remarkable poem, his chef-<P cnuvre, on wMch he means to base Ms reputation. It is called " The Captain's Dream." In tliis work, imitating unconsciously the example of Dante and several other distinguished " makers," he has embodied in a vision the whole sum of his philosophy. Frank has been pretending to listen. The goodnature which preventshim from yawning in the honest Captain's face also obliges him to come, from time to time, and pay Mr Bowker a visit, in order to give Mm pleasure. I, who yield to no man in the quality of good-nature, have ruthlessly cut out the whole. of the . Captain's poem, wliich is among the records from wliich this history is complied, solely -because it f might bore my readers; I -ami- -'far -froiri' the. work is not remarkable in many ways : there" is a flavour pf the briny in it, a smell of /pickled p&k, x)ccasionar -whiffs of rum} -a taste of the pannikin, the breath of the ocean. Nautical metaphors alone are used — seafaring similes. We are on board ship, and the, wind . is , whistling through the shrouds.' ' ; But—^but^-tr\ith compels me to add that the poet's diction is commonplace, and his thoughts not always exalted*; :WJiy .do.';swe not '< consider' the varieties of .the human minds in pur , estimate of poetry?' ' There 'are graduations of intellect, like terraces. Instead of measuring a newly-fledged poet with a stupid, Procrustean bed of criticism, reducing all to one standard, why not riiake an effort to classify intellectual!:'' produce, like merchants classify colonial produce 1 I believe-there are,; in 'the single article of sugar alone, about ; twelve graduations from treacle to crystal,, Suppose we made twelve grades or degrees in- poetry .? - Our greatest poets would belong toUie twelfth — the supreme degree which embraces all the rest. As every poet must have some brains, if drily a thimbleful, it follows that he must have a very large mass of mankind l beneath! Mm. i Martin I F. Tripper, for instance, might be numbered one, or per-, haps two, on accoxiut of some gleams of scholarship. Captain* Bpwker. would no, doubt belong to the-'first grade, s ' without any 'possibility of 'promotion at alii ■"' ; : ;( " So, Mr Melliship, there's all my ideas for you. When I get more, I stick them in._ As Igo on . living,. the poem ,wiH go. on growing — consequently, improving." "Do not .your .ideas change some-, times ?" said Frank. "Never. When.lqget an idea, Mr Melliship, it isn't a flash in. the pah, like J some people's. My ideas take me first of all unawares. They generally begin, like a toothache, when I least expect them— perhaps ( when I feel .a little buffy, in the morriing v ; mayhap, after an extra :go of grog the night before : then one conies all of a sudden, lturn.it over, and tMnk it out. I'm rayther a slow thinker ; but I'm an uncommon sure one, and. I never let it go. I don't read much, execpt/the newspapers ;. so that I've' got, a great.-ad-vantage over most poets. . All my ideas are my own. • I don't steal them and alter them. I let 'em grow. It takes me a long time— perhaps months — to work an idea into | shape ; . but when 1 have got, Mni, there he is, put "into," the poem heat/arid shipshape, preserved for cure, like a bit of salt beef ■in a 'cask of wine. Woriian.now— you remember the beautiful passages I, read to you just' now about woman ?" " Yes— yes^yes. Oh ! don't, itake the trouble -to read it - again} - Captain—Bowker,\",cried>Frardc,''hastily.,._... x.. ..,..-./> ' '"'A few-lines 'to' shdw j; riiy '•'meariirig," said, the Captain, clearing , Ins , , tM-oat. " JBere we are. ' . Now, ; listen :— '" Woman, is, like aship— new painted; gay, Fresh holystoned and scraped, uhe sails •■•■•■ £ way> •'! ' ; ;' '■■' ;i ' L ■'■■-- -••' ;1: ' '■• •Maimed by" her 'captain. While the weather holds, .„:"'• „'■'. ; if . The ship sails : trim, the womannever scolds. ' The dancing waves play on the starboard . bow, • f:/|:: - i: ' ; ■■-•''•'' : - ■ ; -- • s : -;;: ; -' .< Her -aiJsnll out, her pennants gaily floWy ■' '■■■•"' ■''■ ! "■ ! '■' - ; '- ; The captain takes his thankful grog below.

that's a good line, young man. That last is a very good line." He read it over again, shaking his head slowly from side to side in admiration. " • Look where ahead the black clouds rise, and see How changed the lines of ocean ; on the lee ■ ";. The rocks rise threatening. Furl the mainsail, stow All snug : here comes the tempest. Let her go.' ' "I leave out the next fifty lines, where--1 follow up the comparison of a good wo-, man to a good ship. She weathers thestorm. Then Igoon to talk of a bad woman ,- and I end thus :— '"All lost— the ship obeys the helm no' more. She strikes— she sinks. Her voyages are '■ o'er J"' i "Very fine," said Frank— "very fine indeed." "Yes, I flatter myself that there is good stuff there. They've sompared woman to all sorts of things. Look here.i Here's a bit I cut out of an old play :— „ " ' A woman is like to— but stay— " What a woman islike,- who can, say?' : There's;no liyingivith br-witnput one :! ; Love bites i like a 1 fiy, ;; • >::?: a *• " Now an ear, now an eye, Buz, buz, always buzzing about one. : If she iaugh«, and she chat. Play, joke, and all that, I And with smiles and good humour she ; meets me, • ■-.-.• .. ■■■>•- \ She's like a rich dish ! ,; Of ven'-sorior fish,'' > :... ■ That cries from the table, "Come, eat 1 me !" . ■. But she'll plague you, and vex you, Distract and perplex you. False-hearted and ranging, Unsettled and changing, What then do you I ; think she's like? . /lijkea sand ?jtike a rock ? Like a wheel ? like a clock ? Aj'e, a clock that is always at strike. Her head's like the island folks tell on, Which nothing but monkeys can dwell on ; Her heart's like a lemon — so nice, . She carves for each loyer a slice. ; In<truth, she's to me ! 7 Like the wind, like the sea, Whose raging will harken to no man ; Like a mill, Like a pill, Like a sail, Like a whale, Like a flow'r, Like a show'r, Like a fly, Like a pie, Like a thief, Like, in brief, She'slike nothing on carth — but a woman !' " Now, you know, it's all very fine. That's not my notion of a simile. Don't hurry about from one to another to show your cleverness. Stick to one. Woman is like a ship, isn't she ? Very well — there you are. Work it up, as I do. There's her hold, must be laden or in ballast : a woman without ballast is like a cork on the water. Her head is the captain's cabin— only room for one the captain is the man at the helm. As for the rigging, some of it's ornamental, some of it's useful. You've got the bunting, and you've got the sails. The sails is her petticoats — without which, d'ye see, she can't sail out ot port. The bunting is her ribbon, because they all, ships as well as women, sail better if they're proud .of themselves. And as for her masts, her -boats;. her -keel,' her^bowsprit, and her . : f6'c'sUe,'aiid^ail : ,the'-resf-bf it— why, bless you, if I had time, I'd run through the whole, and show you how the simile holds. Ah ! it's a very delicate , subject. Marriage, now. People will get "married. Why ? ..The Lord knows. I did myself Once,- and a pretty market I brought my pigs to. Ease and comfort ? Quiet and tranquillity for composing ? • Not' a bit of : it. 'Morning, noon, and night went her tongue. It was ' Jem, get this,' ' Jem, .go there. ! : - And if -I didn't, squalls, I can . ....,.;.,.,..,...-, 1 ' "Well, but you were'the ; 'man at the helm," said Frank, with a smile. :; """'Man at the helm ! I might as well have been in the bows, she stayed below all watches. She wouldn't ■ answer the helm nohow. Never'topk 'no ; riptice of helm. Kept her own course.' Never was such a craft. Neat to look ' at, too. Painted, rosy red in the ,bows ; !: full in the lines; but clean cut; down about the stern; always neat and tidy, in, the gear. But 'come to command' her— Phew .'—then ybit found out what a deceptive, headstrong, cranky, difficult vessel she was. Ah, well— -it's' fifteen years ago since Isa^y her."-' : ■ .--.-.•7 ">.■■•. -■< .•/•■■■ v i-----' : ... V.la/Bhe deail, then -,??. .;■ ,■■ • , . "Hush!" said Captain Bowker. -'Don't speak so loud. If she aint dead, where ■is;she ?-;; She', left me i; went cruising on -her o*n account* ; took in another skipper^ iriay'-be! 'Ariyh'owV'T she 'went.: We've gone away from each other. Dead ? Well, she's, as good; as dead. Don't you ever marry, Mr Melliship. You're a. young man, and the temptation will come strong over a young man attunes.: : Fight it. St. Paul says himself it's better not to marry.---11 heard that in church 'last, Sunday morning. Say to yourself, ' Which shall it be'? Shall it be'peace and repose ; or shall it be nagging, and pecking, and boxing of ears ? Shall it be your legs on the fender and your, pipe in your .mouth ; or shall^ it be tnb legs of the chair about your head, and the pipe, smashed?.- Shall it be fair weather or ; shall it be foul ?' There's more craft built for show than for use iri ! these bad times. ; Don't trust any. Stick to yourself and be 'happy. As for me,i Mr.Mellisliip,: : I'm a fixture. Nothing can disturb me; now. I'm in, port, I defy the. storms. i .. To, quote, myself, : I, ■Sing— ' : V 7 ' ■'.':" ..'.,■' ".":.;. , >"■'.'■,.■] V. 1 Laid: up in dock, serene I shake my fist,; ; , And fortune's storms, may thunder as., they list.i Those are very fine lines, Mr Melliship— very forcible, strong; flioes indeed — "' Laid xip in dock', serene I shake my fist, And fortune's stories—'" r ■■'' ' ' :! : ; " Please, C.ap'n Bowker "s-it was , the red-armed Mary Ann who interrupted, Mm — "There's a lady wants to see you." .i '■$& suppose -it's^ my cousinj'-' ; growled the Caj)tain.. ;i " Why can ? t she wait forme to go and see her? It's my turn, too.". ■:-;! :■:>: ! ..- ' ; / '■■:-'--'^'H- - "No 'taint Mrs Eobins," said lane, who knew the Captain's belongings ; "this lady says she's; your, wife ;■!"— grinning all over. The Captain's arms dropped, r arid his face turned an ashy white. .Fraukirlaughed at first ;"but the poor man's distn S3 w»e spgreat.tha^sens^pfjthe, ;ludipriou«i was | lost iripityi— Once a-week." ' ;I ,' : ~[ -ii •,.,-! \