The Old Tobacco Shop

It was growing thicker and thicker, and it was beginning to churn about as if in a whirlwind; it turned all sorts of colours, mostly yellow and green, and parts of it looked like barber's poles revolving at a terrific speed. He became dizzy as he gazed at it; his head began to swim; the cloud was coming down closer and closer upon him, and whirling about more and more wildly; he crouched down lower, and became dizzier and dizzier. The counter and the shelves began to go round and round, so that he had to put his hand on the floor to steady himself; in another moment the shop disappeared altogether, and there was nothing under him but a little square of floor, and nothing over him but the wild, churning cloud, now sparkling with jets of fire. He felt himself falling, falling, and as he came to the bottom with a crash, he heard the shop door open and close, and found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the counter as before, with no smoke anywhere to be seen; and he was aware that a hoarse voice was speaking on the other side of the counter, and it was saying these words, very loud and brisk:

"Avast, there! Belay that piping! All snug, sir, hatches battened down, makin' way under skysails and royals, hands piped to quarters, and here's your humble servant ready for orders! Shiver my timbers, where's the skipper? Piped me up with a 'baccy pipe, he did, and where's he gone? Skipper ahoy! Come for orders, I be, and ever yours to command, Lemuel Mizzen! That's me!"

Freddie put the pipe down on the floor, rose to his feet, and looked over the counter.

Leaning on his elbow on the other side of the counter was a Sailorman, with a wide blue collar open at the throat, a flat blue cap with a black ribbon on the back of his head, and a green patch over his right eye.

CHAPTER VI

LEMUEL MIZZEN, A.B

Freddie looked at the Sailorman, and the Sailorman straightened up and touched his cap. His face was brown as weathered oak, and creased like bark; his one eye was black and glittering; the hand which he raised to his cap was of the shape and nearly the size of a ham; and the chest and throat which emerged from his wide-open shirt-collar was as brown as his face, and big with muscles. There was a delicious odour of tar about him; you positively could not look at him without hearing wind whistling through ropes. He hitched up his trousers with his other hand and said:

"Ay, ay, skipper! Here I be as big as life, all ready fer orders!"

As Freddie gazed at him, the Little Boy slowly collected his wits, and a light began to dawn upon him.

"Have you been to China?" said he.

"Right-o!" cried the Sailorman. "To China I have been – " in a queer sing-song, as if he might have been marching in time to it round a capstan, hauling in an anchor: "To China I have been, and a many ports I've seen, near and far; I can sail before the mast or behind it just as fast, I'm a tar, I'm a tar, I'm a tar!"

Freddie continued to stare at him with increasing astonishment.

"Are you a sailor, sir?" said he.

"Wot, me? I'm Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., that's me, and I sail the deep blue sea from Maine to Afrikee, and round again on an even keel to Cochin China for cochineal, and back to Chili for Chili sauce, and home again to Banbury Cross – that's me! Lemuel Mizzen, able seaman! Fed on hard tack or soft tack, or a starboard tack or a port tack, it's all the same to me! Now then, skipper, you piped me up, wot's the orders?"

"Please, sir," said Freddie, "would you mind telling me what it is you would like to have?"

"Me? Douse my binnacle light, wot I want is a chew o' terbacker; but the question before the chart-house is, wot do you want, skipper?"

"I don't want anything," said Freddie.

"Wot? You piped me up, didn't you? Piped me up with a pipe?"

"No, sir," said Freddie.

"Sorry to entertain a different opinion from the skipper! Didn't you smoke the Chinaman's 'baccy, in a pipe?"

"Yes, sir," said Freddie, hanging his head.

"Then you did pipe me up with a pipe, and I hope I knows better than to come aft without bein' piped. Didn't you know I've got to come when you smoke the pipe with the Chinaman's 'baccy in it?"

"No, sir," said Freddie.

The Able Seaman fixed his black eye on Freddie in amazement.

"Well, bust my locker if this ain't the – Beggin' your pardon, skipper, and no offense meant! Called me off from the China Sea, and don't want me after all! Didn't go fer to do it, not him! And me off in the China Sea amongst the Boxers, a-v'yaging hither and thither to pick up a cargo o' boxes to box compasses with! Ye've brought me a fair long journey fer nothin', skipper!"

"I'm very sorry, sir," said Freddie, "I didn't know you had to come when the Chinaman's tobacco was smoked. Are you the one that brought that tobacco here?"

"Ay, ay! That's me! Lemuel Mizzen, A.B.! And a fine long trip from the China Sea, to come to a lad in Amerikee when I hears in my ears the skipper's call, and all fer nothin' at all, at all! Ain't you got nothin' to offer in extenuation?"

Freddie did not know what "extenuation" meant, but he could see by the Sailorman's face that that gentleman was a good deal put out. He remembered that Mr. Mizzen wanted a chew of tobacco.

"Would a little tobacco make you feel better?" said he.

"Now you've got yer hand on the right rope!" said the Able Seaman, his face brightening. "I don't smoke. I chew. If you're goin' to offer a bit of a chew, why then, says I, I don't care if I do."

Freddie took a long plug of chewing tobacco from the shelf behind him. He knew that Mr. Toby would not mind making a little gift to the sailorman after his long journey. He put the plug under the cutter on the counter, and was about to press down the handle, to cut off a portion, when the Able Seaman hitched up his trousers and said:

"Belay there, skipper! Put the whole cargo aboard! This here craft needs ballast; hoist her over the side!" And he reached out his hand for the whole plug of tobacco and took it from Freddie, and gnawed off a corner with his teeth.

"Ah!" said he, his right cheek bulging out. "Too much ballast to starboard." And he gnawed off another corner, so that his left cheek bulged out like his right.

"All snug!" said he. "I'll just pay fer my cargo before I set sail, with a bit of a draft on the owners, in a manner of speakin'. Here y'are, sir. Stow that bit o' paper in yer sea-chest, and it'll come in handy one o' these days. Pay as you go, says I."

He placed in Freddie's hand a folded sheet of soiled paper. It was greasy with handling, and was evidently very old; it was folded small and tight, and was beginning to break with age at the creases. On the outside, it was blank; but there might have been writing inside.

"Got it in the Caribbean off a runaway sailor, fer a set of false whiskers and a tattoo needle. Will it do to pay fer the cargo with?"

"Yes, sir; thank you," said Freddie, holding the paper in his hand without unfolding it.

"Then all I got to say is, before I weighs anchor, – take good keer o' that there bit o' paper. Aloft and alow, don't ye never let go; round the yard take a bight and hold on to it tight; let the harricane blow till yer fingers is blue, but wotever you do, don't ye never let go. And skipper, mind wot I'm a-tellin' you; if you ever needs Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., fer to give him his orders, all you got to do is to smoke a couple o' whiffs of the Chinaman's 'baccy, and Lemuel Mizzen, A.B., he'll be on deck before the smoke's cleared away. That's clear?"

"Yes, sir," said Freddie, with eyes wide open.

"And now as I see there's no orders to give, I'm off to my tight little bark called The Sieve, and when I'm aboard I'll close all the shutters, and lock up the parrot that sneezes and stutters, and wake all the skippers, and put on my slippers, and get into bed while the mates overhead are swabbing the decks and heaving the lead and baling the bilge-water up with their dippers; and when they have gotten the vessel to going, and settled all down to their knitting and sewing, and the twenty-third mate, who is always so late, has learned what is meant by a third and last warning, I'll turn up the gas, take a look at the glass, and read me the Life of Old Chew until morning! – And so, sir," continued Mr. Mizzen, walking towards the street door, "I must give you a view of my little stern-light, and bid you, dear sir, a very good night."

So saying, he turned squarely towards Freddie, with one hand on the door-knob, and with the other hand touched his cap respectfully. Freddie saw that his trousers were very wide at the ankles and very tight at the hips, and that he rolled a little when he walked. Having touched his cap respectfully, he opened the door and went out, and disappeared in the darkness outside.

Freddie stood looking after him with his mouth wide open.

CHAPTER VII

THE HANDS OF THE CLOCK COME TOGETHER

It was some minutes before Freddie recovered from his astonishment. Certainly this was a strange Sailorman. And he had come all the way from the China Sea at a puff of the Chinaman's tobacco! Certainly magic tobacco, that! But it was a pity that Mr. Mizzen had been called away from the China Sea, all for nothing, while he was so busy gathering boxes to box compasses with! No wonder he had felt put out about it. And it must have been a queer sort of ship, with its shutters, and all those skippers and mates – did they really like to knit and sew after they had got the ship to going? It would be a wonderful thing to sail in a ship like that; he wished he had thought to ask Mr. Mizzen more about it. He must tell Aunt Amanda at once.

He ran to the back door and burst into the back room, crying out "Aunt Amanda!"

Aunt Amanda was sound asleep in her chair, with her head back and her mouth open; the gas was burning brightly overhead, and the clock was ticking away distinctly on the mantel-piece.

"Aunt Amanda!" cried Freddie.

She awoke with a jump, blinked her eyes, and said:

"Hah! Where's the – what's the – who said – Where's Toby? What's the matter?"

"It's me, Aunt Amanda," cried Freddie, breathlessly, "and the Sailorman's just been here and gone, and I called him with the pipe, and I can call him whenever I want him, and he gave me a piece of paper, and he talks like a singing-book, and there's a parrot that stutters, and they have to bale out the water with dippers because the ship's named The Sieve, and we mustn't lose the paper because the runaway sailor wore false whiskers, and he feeds on tacks instead of pins, and we have to hold on tight to the paper, and one of the men on the ship is always late, and we mustn't lose the paper, because – "

"Stop! Stop!" said Aunt Amanda. "What on earth is the child talking about? What's all this about a Sailorman and a paper?"

"He's the one that brought the Chinaman's tobacco from China, and he gave me a piece of paper, and here it is, and we mustn't lose it, because – "

"One minute, Freddie! Now you just stand right there, perfectly still, and tell me about it slowly. Now, then; what about this Sailorman? Slow, slow."

It was a long time before Freddie made her understand exactly what had happened, but at last she did understand, from beginning to end. She was grieved and horrified that he had smoked the tobacco, but there was no help for it now, and she was too much excited by his tale to scold him very long.

"What's the paper he give you?" said she, when he had told her everything.

Freddie put the paper in her hand, and she unfolded it carefully.

"Why," said she, "it's a map!"

"What kind of a map?" said Freddie.

"It's a map of an Island," said Aunt Amanda. "Where's Toby? I wish he would come home. It looks like an Island, and there's writing here on it. Looks like some sailorman might have drawn it, maybe; it's certainly pretty old. I wish Toby would come."

"What's the writing on it, Aunt Amanda?" said Freddie.

"Well, here at the top it says, 'Correction Island,' and under that it says, 'Spanish Main.' Bless me; that's where the pirates used to – "

"Pirates?" said Freddie, his eyes sparkling.

"Yes, pirates, of course. You've heard of the Spanish Main, haven't you?"

"Yes'm. It's a long way off. You have to go there in a ship. Have you ever been there?"

"Me? Me been to the Spanish Main? Mercy sakes, no, child! What would I be doing on the Spanish Main? I ain't been outside of this town since I was born."

"Wouldn't I like to go there! Pirates!" said Freddie. "Oh jiminy!"

"You mustn't use such dreadful language," said Aunt Amanda. "I wonder where Toby is? Just look at that clock! Why, bless me, it's twenty-seven minutes to seven."

Freddie looked, and saw that the hands of the clock were together, one on top of the other. It was the hour for Mr. Punch's father to call Mr. Punch from the church-tower.

"Toby's got to talkin' with that barber again, as sure as you live; when they once begin, they never know when to leave off. I wish he'd – "

As she said this, the door opened, and in walked Mr. Toby himself.

"Sorry I'm so late," he cried, "but the barber got to talking about – What, young feller, are you still here?" He turned and called through the open door to someone behind him in the shop. "Come in! Make you acquainted with my aunt and a young chap here – Don't be bashful, come right in! Nobody's goin' to eat you!"

Mr. Toby held the door wide open, and made way for a little gentleman who now advanced into the room. He was a hunchbacked man, of the same height as Toby, and he was holding out in one hand a bunch of black cigars; he was bareheaded and bald-headed; he had high cheek-bones and a big chin and a hooked nose; he wore blue knee breeches and black stockings and buckled shoes, and his coat was cut away in front over his stomach and had two tails behind, down to his knees. His joints creaked a little as he walked. He made a stiff bow to Aunt Amanda, and another one to Freddie.

"Come in, Mr. Punch," said Toby, "you don't need to hold them cigars any longer. Give 'em to me." And he took them from Mr. Punch and laid them on the table. He then went to Mr. Punch and linked his arm in his, and the two hunchbacks stepped forward together and stood before Aunt Amanda.

"Allow me to present my friend Mr. Punch," said Toby. "Just as I was coming in, I heard a voice sing out 'Punch!' from the church-tower, and Mr. Punch stepped down from his perch, and I invited him to come in, and here we are."

"Good hevening, marm," said Mr. Punch. His voice sounded harsh, as if his throat were rusty. "Good hevening, young sir. Hit's wery pleasant within-doors, wery pleasant indeed; Hi carn't s'y it's so blooming agreeable hout there on my box, hall d'y and hall night; the gaslight is wery welcome to me poor heyes, I assure you, marm. Hi trust I see you well, marm."

"Mercy on us!" said Aunt Amanda, who had been speechless with astonishment. "Freddie, it's Mr. Punch himself, bless me if it ain't!"

Freddie edged a little closer to Aunt Amanda, for he was afraid Mr. Punch might snatch him up and carry him off to his father in the tower. Mr. Punch noticed this.

"'Ave no fear, me good sir," said Mr. Punch, his wide mouth expanding in a smile, almost to his ears. "Hi sharn't see me father this night, hif me kind friends will permit me to enjoy their society for a brief period, together with their charmin' gaslight, which it is wery dim hall night in the street and quite hunsatisfactory, accordingly most pleased to haccept me friend Toby's kind 'ospitality, Hi assure you. One grows quite cramped in one's legs and one's harms when one 'as to remain in one position on one's box hall night, unless one's father should tyke hit into 'is 'ead to call one hup for a bit of a lark, and one can never be sure of one's father's 'aving it in 'is 'ead to call one hup, to s'y nothing of one's fingers coming stiffer and stiffer with one's parcel of cigars 'eld out in one's 'and, and no 'at on one's 'ead, and no 'air on one's 'ead to defend one against the hevening hair, with one's nose dropping hicicles in winter, so that one never knows when one will lose one's nose off of one's fyce – "

"Excuse me," said Aunt Amanda. It was evident that Mr. Punch was a talkative person. "Are you an Englishman?"

"Ho lor' miss, indeed!" said Mr. Punch. "A Henglishman as ever was, Hi assure you. But I 'opes I give myself no hairs."

Freddie gave up trying to understand the difference between air and hair; it was plain enough that the bald-headed man had never given himself any hair, so it couldn't be that. Anyway, this was an Englishman, and Freddie was glad that he would now probably have a chance to hear English spoken, which he had never heard before.

"Toby," said Aunt Amanda, "Freddie has seen the Sailorman from China, and he has a map. I'll tell you about it."

Thereupon she related the story of Mr. Lemuel Mizzen, as she had got it from Freddie. Mr. Toby and Mr. Punch were both tremendously impressed.

"It's too bad," said Mr. Toby, "this young feller here had to go and smoke the Chinaman's tobacco after I told him not to; it's too bad, that's what it is. What did you mean by it, sir?"

"Hit's a wery naughty haction indeed," said Mr. Punch. "Wery reprehensible. Wery. Hi carn't s'y as I ever 'eard of a thing so hextremely reprehensible. Now when Hi was a lad – "

"You don't say so!" said Mr. Toby. "Well, I don't see anything so very bad about it. I'd a' done it myself if I'd been in his place. What do you mean by saying that my Freddie's reprehensible? I won't have nobody callin' him names, I won't, and what's more – "

"No offense, Toby! No offense!" cried Mr. Punch. "Sorry, Hi assure you. Wery reprehensible of me to s'y such a thing. Wery. Pray be calm; be calm."

"Well, then," grumbled Toby, "don't you go and say nothing about Freddie, because – Anyway, let's have a look at the map."

At that moment there came a timid knock upon the door.

"Who next?" said Toby. "Come in!"

CHAPTER VIII

CELLULOID CUFFS AND A SILK HAT

The door opened, and there entered a poor-looking elderly man, bowing and scraping as he came, and saluting the company with an old rusty dented tall hat which he carried in his hand. The most striking thing about him was that he had a wooden leg. His hair was grey and thin, and his face was not very clean; there were signs of tobacco at the corners of his mouth. His clothes were frayed and patched, and there was a good deal of grease on his vest; he wore a celluloid collar without any necktie, and round celluloid cuffs; his coat-sleeves were much too short, and his cuffs hung out certainly three inches. Strange to say, his collar and cuffs were spotlessly clean, and presented quite a contrast to his very untidy face and clothes; but then, celluloid is easy to clean; much less trouble than washing the face. As he stumped into the room, he kept bowing humbly from one to another, and bobbing his old hat up and down in his hand.

"Ahem!" he said, making another bow. "I was just going by, and I thought I would drop in to – er – ahem! – I hope I am not in the way?"

"Oh, come in," said Toby, not very graciously. "As long as you are here, you might as well stay. This is Mr. Punch, and this is Freddie."

The elderly man bowed to Freddie, and went up to Mr. Punch and shook him cordially by the hand. He put his mouth quite close to Mr. Punch's ear, and lowered his voice, and said:

"Ahem! I'm delighted to know you, sir. I trust you are well. I have seen you often, but not to speak to. Ahem!" He lowered his voice again, and spoke very confidentially into Mr. Punch's ear. "The fact is, sir, that as I was going by, I suddenly found that I had left my tobacco pouch at home; most unfortunate; and I came in with the hope that perhaps – er – ahem! Very seldom forget my tobacco; very seldom indeed; perfectly lost without it; do you – er, ahem! – do you happen to have such a thing about you as a – er – ahem! – a small portion of – er – smoking tobacco? I should be very much obliged!"

"Sorry," said Mr. Punch, stiffly, backing away. "Hi never use tobacco in any way, shape or form."

The elderly man looked much disappointed, and sighed. He turned to Toby, and bowed and smiled hopefully.

"Perhaps Mr. Littleback – " he began.

"Not on your life," said Toby. "You don't get no tobacco out of me, and that's flat."

The elderly man sighed again, and looked steadily at Freddie; but he evidently thought there was no hope in that quarter, and he said nothing.

Freddie now realized who the elderly gentleman was. He had a wooden leg, and he never bought tobacco when tobacco he could beg – It was the Old Codger whom Mr. Toby had now and then sung a song about; one of his two friends, the one who was always begging tobacco, and never had any of his own. Freddie looked at him, and felt rather sorry for him.

"Ahem!" said the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg. "Very sorry to intrude, Miss Amanda. I hope I'm not in the way. It's very mild weather we're having."

"Now, then," said Toby, briskly, "let's look at this map."

As he said this, another knock was heard at the door; a firm and confident knock this time.

"Confound it!" said Toby. "Who next? Come in!"

The door opened, and another elderly man stepped in; a tall slim man, with very white hair and a long narrow face; he carried a tall shiny black silk hat in his hand; he wore a black suit, all of broadcloth, and his coat hung to his knees and was buttoned to the top; his cuffs and collar and shirt were of beautiful white linen with a gloss, and his tie was a little white linen bow. He came forward with an air of warm benevolence.

"My dear, dear friends!" he said, and stretched out both hands towards the company, as if to clasp them all to his heart. "What a beautiful, beautiful scene! So homelike, so cosy, so sociable, so – so – What can be so beautiful as the gathering together of friends about the family hearth! So beautiful!" There was a Latrobe stove in the room, but no hearth; however, that made no difference; he went, with his hands outstretched, to Aunt Amanda, and pressed one of hers in both of his.

The Old Codger with the Wooden Leg immediately sidled up to him, and while he was still pressing Aunt Amanda's hand, said, in a confidential tone:

"Ahem! I'm delighted to see you again. I trust you are well. The fact is, I find that I have – er – left my tobacco pouch at home, – most unfortunate; very seldom forget it; completely lost without it; I was wondering – er – ahem! – if you happened to have such a thing about you as a – "

"No!" said the other old man, changing at once from beaming benevolence to stern severity. "I'll be hanged if I do!" And he released Aunt Amanda's hand, and turned his back on the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg.

"Now," said Toby, "let's look at the map. This here is Mr. Punch, and this is Freddie."

The newcomer took Mr. Punch's hand in both of his and squeezed it softly; he then took Freddie's hand in both of his and pressed it tenderly. Freddie knew him. He was the "other Old Codger, as sly as a fox, who always had tobacco in his old tobacco-box." Freddie could hardly believe that that white-haired old gentleman could be as sly as a fox.

"My dear, dear friends!" said the Sly Old Fox. "What is so beautiful as the love of friends?" He stopped to glare at the Old Codger with the Wooden Leg, who looked away nervously. "The love of friends! Gathered together around the family hearth! How beautiful! It touches me, my friends, it touches me – "

"That's all right about that," said Toby. "For heaven's sake, let's look at the map!"

Aunt Amanda spread out the map on the table beside her, and the others gathered round.

"It's an island!" cried Toby.

"On the Spanish Main," said Aunt Amanda.

"The Spanish Main!" said the Sly Old Fox. "A beautiful country! Full of palms, – and grape-nuts, – What you might call a real work of nature! Full of parrots, and monkeys, and lagoons, and other wild creatures; a work of nature, my dear friends, a real work of nature."

"And pirates," said Freddie, earnestly.

"I said parrots," said the Sly Old Fox.

"I said pirates," said Freddie.

"Just what I said," said the Sly Old Fox. "That live in trees, my little friend, in trees; and have red and blue feathers, and – "