A FOG-HORN CONCLUSION.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2764, 19 March 1910, Page 1 (Supplement)

A FOG-HORN CONCLUSION.

(By FOX RUSSELL.) The Saucy Sally was a vessel of renown. No blustering liner, no fussy tug, no squattering steamer, she; but a bluff-bowed, smartly painted, trimbuilt, sailing barge, plying chiefly from the lower reaches of tlie Thames to ports west of Dover. She had no equal of her class, at any point of sailing; and certainly her master, Mr. Joseph Pigg, was not the man to Jet her fair face suffer for want of seaman, ship. "Cap’ll Prigg,” as he insisted upon being called, was a great, hairy-faced man, with brawny muscles and a bloodshot eye. And in these respects his mate. Bob Topper, greatly favored him —in fact, tlleir physical resemblance was rather marked; but their tastes were in no way similar —“the Cap’ll” was fond of his glass, whilst his mate was a blue-ribbon man—Joseph Prigg couldn’t bear music in any form, while the total abstainer had a weakness for the flute, and would not infrequently burst- into song—the Skipper hated women, whereas the mate was what he himself called a “bit of a gay Lathero.” But notwithstanding these dissimilarities of tastes and disposition, they got along fairly well together, and both met on the' common ground of getting as much work out of two “hands” as was ordinarilv nossible. The Skipper didn’t drink alcoholic liquors before the ‘mate, and the mate returned the compliment by refraining from any musical outrage in the hearing of his superior officer.

In tlie Skipper’s absence, Mr. Topper would “take it out” in alleged music on board—and his efforts on the flute were of go soul-stirring a nature ns to occasionally reduce the two “hands” to a state midway between tears and insanity. One hot summer afternoon, when ihc Saucy Sally was taking in cargo, and the Skipper was ashore, Mr. Topper, seated on the coambings of the hatchway, abandoned himself to the melancholy oleasurcs • of “Haydn’s Surprise,” the tune being wrung out of a tarnished German-silver flute. "Kittiwake Jack,” one of the crew, was seated as far as possible for’ard, vainly trying to absorb his tea and stop his ears, at one and the same time, whilst his fellow sufferer, Bill Brown, having hastily dived below, lay jn his bunk, striving to deaden the weird wailing sounds that filled the ship. And just as “Hayden’s Surprise” was half way through, tor the seventh time, the Skinner walked on hoard.

The flautist stopped short, and stared up at him. “Didn’t- expect you hack so soon, Can’n,” he said, in confused tones. "No. What’s that ’owlin’ row .you’re makiii’ ?” “I dunno about no ’owlin’ row, but—” .

•‘Well, I do. I s’pose, .aeordin’ to you, I ain’t got no musical li’ear,” sneered Cap’ll Pigg. •‘This —this here tune—” “Yes. This disgustin’ noise—what is it?” The mate looted sulky. “This is ‘Haydn’s Surprise,’ ” he growled. “So I should think. I dunno who the bloke was, but it must have given Haydn unite a turn. Don’t lot’s ’ave no more of it.” “Well. I don’t see as there’s no ’arm in music. And I didn’t loose it off when you was about. I know you didn't like it, so I studied your peeooliarities. Fact is, 1 studies yer too rnueh,” and the mate looked mutinous. t>"’n Pigg crowled. “You shot ver ’cad,” .he grunted ns he stamped off below. He went to a small cupboard in the corner of the cabin, and, mixed himself a stiff “go" ot gin and water, which he tossed off at one gulp, saying: •• “Haydn’s S’urise,’ eh? Haydn’s S’prise be d —ashed! ’E don't come no s’prisos ’ere while I’m master of the Saucy Sally!” After this slight breeze, things ouioklv settled down again on the old lines between master and mate, and the voyage to Chichester Harbor was entirely uneventful, the barge bringing up at' a snug anchorage near Emsworth. The next day Mr. Topper had undressed and gone overboard for a swim. After this, climbing up a bobstay, he regained the deck, and proceeded to drv his hairy frame on an ancient flannel shirt. In the midst of this occupation, temporarily forgetful of his su]>orinr officer’s prejudices, he broke into song Thirty seconds after lie had lot go the first howl, the skipper’s head was thrust up the companion way. “Wodjei: want to make all that row ‘about? Anything disagreed with yer? If so, why don’t ye r take something for it?” ‘Tt’s a funny thing yer carn’t let a man alone, when all ’e’s doin’ is inakin’ a bit of ’a.rmony on board,” replied the mate, pausing in the act of drying his .shoe’ll head. “’Armony be d—driven overboard! cried Mr. Pigg, wrathfully. “Now, look ’ere, Bob Topper. I ain’t an onreasonable man in my likes and dislikes, but it ain’t fair to sing at a feller creature, with the voice Nature fitted you out with! I never done you no ’arm!” But this time the mate had struggled into his tarry trousers, and felt more independent. No man can look dignified, clad only in a flanne] shirt. “Ik voice- ain’t- so dusty, skipper, I don’t think. Least-ways, Poll Smitliers cays—” “Blow Poll Smitlicrsl” burst in Pigg. hotly, “don’t start- talking ter me of yer Polls and Sues. A sailor man’s no business with any of ’em. All I say is, stop playin’ of that flute; and stop sinigin’.” And the skipper’s head once more diseopearod below. The mate, stared reflectively at the top of the companion. - “I studies ’im too much,” he muttered, “that’s wot it is—l studies ’im too much.” Next day the Saucy Sally shipped some shingle ballast, got under weigh on the first ebb tide, and safely thread, ing her way past shallows and thiougn the narrow channels of the harbor, emerged into the open sea, and turned her bluff-bowed stem eastwards. The following afternoon, as Bob topper took his trick at the wheel, he ruminated on the mutability of human affairs in general, and the contrary ness of skinners in particular. “Won’t ’ave no music, won’t of Well, I reckon it’s like religion when the missionaries is a shovin’ of it into the African niggers*—they just jolly well got to ’ave it! An’ so it’ll be with the ole man. I’ll just fix up a scheme and do ’.im a treat.” He smiled broadly: and when Bob Topper smiled the corners of his mouth seemed almost to meet at the back of his head.

As soon as the Saucy Sally had pitched and tossed her way up chauuel —tor siie was as light as cork in ballast —and dropper her anchor a little way off Gravesend, Boh Topper sculled himseif ashore. Twenty minutes after stepping out of the boat, he was coated m the back parlor of a friend, a musical instrument maker. When Mr. Topper went aboard again he carried under nis arm- a large brown, paper package, which he smuggled below. without encountering the skipper, wive was in- his cabin at the time, communing with a bill of lading and a glass of Hollands neat. And, alter the. mate hail come aboard, the. Cap’n went ashore. . . And then Mr. Topper laid himself out f Ol some tranquil enjoyment, on quite an unusual scale, lie unfastened the package, produced a gramophone, brouglit- it on to the deck, and started “The Washington Post.’ Kittiwake Jack and Bill Brown immediately fled below. The mate sat on the edge of the hatch and gazed lovingly at the new flistrument of torture, as he beat time to tlio inspiriting strains wifcli a- belaying pin. When “The Washington Post” was finished, belaid on with a chorus of human laughter which sounded quite eerie. And so intent was he in this occupation that he never even noticed the approach' of Cap n Pigg’s boat until it was almost alongThe skipper clambered aboard, lookin y black as thunder. This new outram’ was not to he borne. Just as hi" foot touched the deck the mst-ru-n I.o nt ‘mve forth its unholy caclnnation of “Ha! Ha! Ha!” in the high, nasal tones neculiar to its kind. Cap'n Pigg was not easily disconcerted, hU tins ghostly “Ha! Ha! Ha ” was a distinct trial to his nerves; he thrust his hands deep into his coat pockets, glared at the mate, and then growled: “Wodjer got there? More armony. “Grammarphonc,” was the mate s brief reply. He was getting sulky. “Grammar be blowed! Worst grammar I ever ’eard,” returned ligg“Turn the bloomin’ thing off and turn it off at the main. Enough to give any respectable, law-abidin’ sailor-man the ’ump.” . . He proceeded two steps dov n the companion, then hurled this parting shot at the offending mate. “You oughter he cad oi a 1 auiiary where the ’amlle of the mangle turns a pianor-horgan as well—work an pla\ . he concluded scornfully as he disappeared from the musician's sight be- ° The mate whistled softlythen he stopped the offending instrument and conveyed it below. ••P’raps the old man'll be giad or it, one o’ these days,” he muttered invsteriously. ~ “Sounds like a escape o' gas. en T't ] od the skipper angrily, as he applied himself to the square-faced bottle of Hollands, “grammerphone be oust-ca. Should like to take it an’ ’eave it over, board. I should!” The next trip of the Saucy Sally was a more eventful one. She left Tilbury in a light haze, which first thickened into a- pale-eolorcd fog, and then, aided bv the smoke from the tall chimneys, to a' regular “pea-souper.” The mate, taking advantage of the captain s spell below brought up a long “yard or tin, which looked remarkably like the Saucy Salh-’s fog-horn and quietly slipped it overboard. , _ As they got lower and lower down tile river the fog increased, and both Cap n Pigg and Topper experienced a - certain amount of anxiety as, first another barge, then a tramp steamer, and finally a- huge liner, all sounding their fon-horns loudly, passed them consider, able too close for comfort. The skipper himself was at the wheel, and, coughing the raw. damp fog out ot Ins throat, he shouted hoarsely to Topper: “Better get your fog-horn gom mate.” _ . “Aye, aye, skipper. Its. in youi cabin, ain’t it?” “Yes, in the first locker. The mate descended the companionsteps, with a mysterious smile on Ins face, and his dexter optic closed. Ihe casual observer might have thought that Mr. Topper was actually indulging in a wink. , ‘ , After a time, he reappeared on deck, walked aft, and said: “Fog-horn don’t seem nowhoies •kowt her in your charge?” Cap’n Pigg whisked the wheel round just in time to escape a. tug. fussing upstream, and feeling her way through the fog at half-speed; and then he grunted tiourlv: , , "So I do. What the d—delay m findin’ it is, I can’t understand. ‘Ere, ketch ’old o’ the spokes, and 1 11 go; always got to do everything mjseL on thi<i old tank, seems to me.” And thus grumbling, Cap’n Pigg went below—not altogether unwillingly, as being a man who understood tue- importance of economising time, he-com-bined his search for the foghorn with the quenching of a highly useful thirst. When he came on deck again, wiping his mouth with the back of his. hand, lu> was unaccompanied uy tlie foghorn.

‘‘Whore the blamed thing’s got- to, I dunno, more’n the dead. I see it there myself, not two days ago, but it flin t nowheres to be found now.” . “Rather orkard, skipper, ain t it, n all this maze o’ shipoin’ ?” returned Mr. Topper, with a half-turn at the wheel.

“Yes, I don’t more’ll ’arf like it-" returned the Cap’n uneasily, “my nerves- ain't quite what they was. An a fog’s a tiling I never could abide.” On glided the Saucy Sally, almost the onlv one on the great- waterway which snokc not, in the midst of a babel of confusing sounds. Syrens whooped, steam whistles shrieked hoarsely : the raucous voices of foghorns proclaimed the whereabouts of scores of craft passing up and down the river: hut the, trim-built barge slid noiselessly along, ghostlike, in the dun-colored “smother,” giving no intimation of her proximity. Then it was that Mr. Bob Topper’s moment for action arrived. In casual Jones, lie abserved to the* skipper. “Pit-.- we ain’t got somethin’ as’ll make a sound o’ some kind, so’k to let people know as we’re a-comin’.” Can’ll Pigg said nothing; nut the nnxietv deepened perceptibly in his face ...

“Where the blank blank a,re yer oomin’ to?” roared the voice of another bargeman, as, tooting loudly on the foghorn, one of the “Medway flyers havoc] past them. “Near thing that, observed the mate, calmly. Cap’n Pigg went a shade paler beneath the tan of his weather-beaten face “Cuss ’im! careless ’ound!” he muttered. “Might a’ sunk us.” “ ’Ad no proper look-out, I expect, ’—turned Mr. Topper, “even if *e ’ad ’e wouldn’t see anything, and we got no fog—rn to show ’em where we was, yer see.”

“No. An’ p’raps ire sh f\3 n 'f £ bottooi aU, along o’ * £4ii?” said Cap’n »«. Bolemnly. , • & bxovm, The. mate appeared to be u study. Then, as though SU dimly been inspired he “What about the gianin— . ok Eveii ? in the midst of his Cap’n Pigg looked askance jt W of the hated instrument. Un a case of “any port m a sUnta, with a prim nod, he relieved t—at the wheel, and iiaid • .. “Fetch tlie bloomm contain -WMr. Topper obeyed, .with a.axmY - - his step, and a wink in his eye. i■ - “consarn” was quickly brought on k. >, and the “Washington rest" on the astonished ears of fog-sm •> - ed mariners, right and left ot them. One old shell-back, corning --P river on a Gravesend shrimper, ax-r----ened in blank iov - minute, and then confided huskily t-o Essmate that lie thought their time nr/.. come. . j., “’Eavonlv strains! Its wet J calls -the music o’ the spears.’ “ he »Kt mysteriously. “Hangels' j comes ju.vi before a bloke’s time s Ug. We better prepare for the wust.” His mate, less superstitious and w:.:. more common-sense, rejoined: . “Garn! 'Music o’ the spears’ bs blowed! It’s more like a pm me.- .’.or - gan or a ’urdy-gurdy.” ___ The shrimper glided on, ana a tramp steamer, going dead slow, just suave past the musical barge. It’s master roared dcsisivelv from the bridge: “’Ullo, marge ahoy; Mot yer got there? Punch an’ Judy show aboard r “Which cost Cap’n a nasty twinge, lie had always prided himself on h it .seamanlike ways, and to proceed thue, down the great river, like a mountebank, or a cockney out lor a Barm holiday, hurt his feelings more than he could say. , , , Yet another insult was to be nurieo. at- the Saucy Sally, for “Jacksonville,” with its weird human chorus, having been turned on—when the “Ha! Ha! Im rang out on the ears of a passing tug’s captain, that outraged gentleman, thinking he was being personally ocrided, shouted, as the tide swept thens oat of tight: r , “Yah! ’Oo yer larfin’ at.- mt o bloomin’ monkeys!" . But the gamophone was certain. 7 playing a useful part in warning ethers off he Saucy Sally, down that tog-laden river. And, when, at the end of then dav’s slow journey, they let go tne.r anchor the ••'Washington Post; was again nasally shrieking out in 'is march-time glories. The mate stopped the machine, ana carried it tenderly below; teen, tvturning to the deck, he observe-!: “Good job we had that grammerph me aboard, Cap’n!” Cap'n Pigg -swallowed a lumpen throat, and looked like a chile vi qfr-_ l ted with a dose of nauseous medicine-. as he gruffly replied: “It’s better’ll nothin’ when ye*-wants a row made.” A pause ensued, and then the sina!*: went on: .... “In future, I don t object—not 'Ciy much—to the dammarphone—granjinarphone I mean—if you can stan i tiv music, well, so can I. But you t contrast the beauty o’ tlffi two n .-tr-i----ments, and I’m goin’ ashore, straigiffi away, to buy myself a good, ola-issmor. od fog’orn. The tone o' that is ait-.’, o-ether more ’armonious ana more soothin’ to the h’ear, than that thembeastJ- gi-ammarphoue ever covuc be. Tlie mate heaved a deep sign ana. sorrowfully went below. In the efionto ram music into his superior officer, he had to admit himself defeated.