Work and Win; Or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise by Oliver Optic (animal farm read TXT) 📗

if you want to fight," cried the little bully, who had not the pluck to approach within twenty feet of his late assailant.

The crowd of boys still shouted, and some of them carried their hostility so far as to throw sticks and stones at the little party; but as long as they kept at[123] a respectful distance, Noddy did not deem it wise to meddle with them, though he kept one eye on them, and stood ready to punish those who ventured too near.

"Come, Captain McClintock," said he, as he attempted to lead the drunken father, "let's go on board."

"Heave ahead, my hearty!" replied the captain, as he pressed forward, though his steps were so uncertain that his two feeble supporters could hardly keep him on his feet.

The remarkable trio passed down Fleet Street, and, after many difficulties and much "rough weather," reached the head of the wharf, where the little girl said her father's vessel lay. They were still closely followed by the merciless ragamuffins, who had pelted them with stones and sticks, until the patience of Noddy was severely tried.

"Come, my boy, now we'll—hic—now we'll go and—hic—go and take something 'fore we go on board," said the drunken captain, suddenly coming to a dead halt in the middle of the street.

"O, no, father!" cried the daughter; "let us go on board."[124]

"Something to take, Mollie, and you shall—hic—you shall have some—hic—some soda water."

"I don't want any, father. Do come on board."

"You are a good girl, Mollie, and you shall—hic—you shall have some cake."

"Not to-night, father. We will get it in the morning," pleaded poor Mollie, trembling with apprehension for the consequences which must follow another glass of liquor.

"Come, Captain McClintock, let's go on board," said Noddy.

"Who are you?" demanded the inebriated man.

"I'm the best fellow out; and I want to see your vessel."

"You shall see her, my boy. If you are—hic—the best fellow out, come and take something with me," stammered the captain.

"Let's see the vessel first," replied Noddy, tugging away at the arm of the drunken man.

"She's a very fine—hic—fine vessel."

"Let me see her, then."

"Heave ahead, my jolly roebuck. I've got some of the best—hic—on board zever you tasted. Come along."

Noddy and Mollie kept him going till they[125] reached the part of the wharf where the captain's vessel was moored; and the end of their troubles seemed to be at hand, when the boys, aware that their sport was nearly over, became very bold and daring. They pressed forward, and began to push the drunken man, until they roused his anger to such a degree that he positively refused to go on board till he chastised them as they deserved. He had broken away from his feeble protectors, and in attempting to pursue them, had fallen flat upon the planks which covered the wharf.

Mollie ran to his assistance; and as she did so, one of the boys pushed her over upon him. Noddy's blood was up in earnest, for the little girl's suffering made her sacred in his eyes. He leaped upon the rude boy, bore him down, and pounded him till he yelled in mortal terror. Some of the boldest of the ragamuffins came to his relief when they realized how hard it was going with him, and that he was in the hands of only one small boy.

Noddy was as quick as a flash in his movements, and he turned upon the crowd, reckless of consequences. One or two of the boys showed fight; but the young lion tipped them over before they could make up their minds how to attack him. The rest[126] ran away. Noddy gave chase, and in his furious wrath felt able to whip the whole of them. He pursued them only a short distance; his sympathy for poor Mollie got the better even of his anger, and he hastened back to her side. As he turned, the cowardly boys turned also, and a storm of such missiles as the wharf afforded was hurled after him.

By this time two men from the vessel had come to the assistance of the captain, and raised him to his feet. He was still full of vengeance, and wanted to chastise the boys. The young ruffians followed Noddy down the wharf, and he was compelled, in self-defence, to turn upon them again, and in presence of the drunken man he punished a couple of them pretty severely. One of the sailors came to his aid, and the foe was again vanquished. The appearance of a policeman at the head of the wharf now paralyzed their efforts, and they disbanded and scattered.

"You are a good fellow!" exclaimed Captain McClintock, extending his hand to Noddy as he returned to the spot.

"The best fellow out," replied the little hero, facetiously, as he took the offered hand.[127]

"So you be! Now come on board, and—hic—and take something."

"Thank you, captain. I should like to go on board of your vessel."

"Come along, then, my jolly fellow," added the captain, as he reeled towards the vessel. "You are a smart little—hic—you are a smart little fellow. If you hadn't—hic—licked them boys, I should—hic."

Noddy thought he did "hic;" but with the assistance of the sailors, the captain got on board, and went down into his cabin. His first movement was to bring out a bottle of gin and a couple of glasses, into which he poured a quantity of the fiery liquor. He insisted that Noddy should drink; but the boy had never tasted anything of the kind in his life; and from the lessons of Bertha and Ben he had acquired a certain horror of the cup, which had not been diminished by the incidents of the evening. He could not drink, and he could not refuse without making trouble with his intoxicated host.

But Mollie saw his difficulty, and slyly substituted a glass of water for the gin, which he drank. Captain McClintock was satisfied, and overcome by his last potion, he soon sank back on the locker, and[128] dropped asleep. With the assistance of the mate he was put into the berth in his state-room, to sleep off the effects of his debauch.

"I'm so grateful to you!" exclaimed Mollie, when all her trials seemed to have ended.

"O, never mind me."

"Where do you live?"

"Nowhere."

"Have you no home?"

"No."

"Where do you stay?"

"Anywhere."

"Where were you going to sleep to-night?"

"Anywhere I could."

"Then you can sleep here."

Noddy was entirely willing, and one of the eight berths in the cabin was appropriated by the mate to his use.[129]

CHAPTER XI. THE SCHOONER ROEBUCK.

"What is your name?" asked Mollie, when the arrangements for the night were completed.

"Noddy Newman."

"Noddy? What a queer name! That isn't your real name—is it?"

"Yes, I never knew any other."

Mollie was certainly a very pleasing young lady, and Noddy had become quite interested in her, as we always are in those to whom we are so fortunate as to render needed assistance. She had a pretty face, and her curly hair might have challenged the envy of many a fair damsel who was wicked enough to cherish such a feeling. There was nothing rough or coarse about her, and one would hardly have expected to find so lady-like a person in such a situation in life.

We make this statement in apology for the interest[130] which Noddy took in the little maiden. The service he had rendered her was quite sufficient to create a kindly feeling towards her; and then she was so pretty, so modest, and so gentle, that his sympathy grew into admiration before she went to her little state-room. Mollie asked him a great many questions about his past life, and Noddy told her all he knew about himself—about Bertha, Fanny, and others at Woodville. He did not tell her about the affair of the boat-house, though he determined to do so at some future time, if he had the opportunity.

In return for all this information, Mollie told him that the schooner in which they then were was called the Roebuck; that she belonged to her father, and that they were bound to the Sandwich Islands, where the vessel was to run as a packet between certain islands, whose names she had forgotten. Captain McClintock belonged in the State of Maine, where Mollie's mother had died two years before. Her father had some property, and learning that there was a good chance to improve his fortunes at the Sandwich Islands, he had built the Roebuck for this purpose.

As these distant islands were to be his future home, he was to take his only child with him, and he had[131] fitted up a state-room in the cabin, next to his own for her special use. Mollie told Noddy how much pleased she was with all the arrangements, and how happy she had been on the passage to Boston, where the Roebuck was to pick up an assorted cargo for the port of her destination. Then she wept when she thought of the terrible scenes through which she had just passed in the streets. She said her father did not often drink too much; that he was the very best father in the whole world; and she hoped he never would get intoxicated again as long as he lived.

Noddy hoped so too; and when the little maiden had finished her story, he thought she was almost equal to Miss Bertha; and he could not think of such a thing as parting with her in the morning, again to buffet the waves of disappointment on shore.

"Does your father want a boy on board of the vessel?" asked he.

"I don't know. Do you want to go with us?" said Mollie, with a smile which spoke the pleasure the thought afforded her.

"I should like to go with you first-rate," replied Noddy. "I want to do something, and earn some money for myself. I want to work."

"Then you shall go with us!" exclaimed Mollie.[132] "Out where we are going is a nice place to get rich. My father is going to get rich out there, and then we are coming home again."

Poor child! She knew not what the future had in store for them.

The bells of the city rang for nine o'clock, and Mollie said she went to bed at this time.

"Can you read, Noddy?" asked she.

"Yes, some."

"I always read my Testament before I go to bed; I promised my mother, years ago, that I would; and I like to do it, too. I suppose you read your Testament every night—don't you?"

"Sometimes; that is, I did once," replied Noddy, in some confusion, for he could not help recalling the teachings of Bertha on this subject.

"Well, we will read it together. You would like to—wouldn't you?"

"Yes; I don't care if I do."

There was a want of enthusiasm on his part which was rather painful to the little maiden; but she got the Testament, and when she had read a few verses aloud, she passed the book to Noddy, who stumbled through his portion, and she then finished the chapter. She bade him good night, and retired to her[133] state-room, leaving her new-made friend to meditate upon the singular events of the evening.

He did not meditate a great while—he never did. His thoughts were disposed to stray from one subject to another; and from the little maiden, he found himself wondering whether Mr. Grant had finished searching for him in Albany, and whether Miss Fanny had "let the cat out of the bag" yet. Noddy was too tired and sleepy to think a great while about anything; and he turned into his berth, and went to sleep.

Early in the morning Noddy was on his feet. He went on deck, and found that the Roebuck was a beautiful vessel, almost handsome enough to be a gentleman's yacht. He went upon the wharf, where he could obtain a fair view of her bow, and he was sure she would make good time with a fair breeze. When he had satisfied himself with the examination, he was more than ever inclined to go out in her.

When he went down into the cabin again, Mollie was there, setting the table for breakfast. She looked as fair and as fresh as a country maiden. She gave him a very friendly greeting.

"Do you do these things, Mollie?" asked he.[134]

"O, yes; I always work, and do what I can. I like to do something."

"How old are you, Mollie?"

"Eleven last May."

"But you can't do this work when you are out at sea."

"O, yes, I can."

"You will be seasick."

"I never was sick, and I have been to sea a great deal with my father."

"How is the captain this morning?"

"I don't know; I haven't seen him yet," replied she, looking very sad, as she thought of her kind father's infirmity.

Captain McClintock soon came out of his state-room. He looked pale and haggard, and seemed to be thoroughly ashamed of himself for what he had done the evening before, as he ought to have been. Mollie sprang to him, as he stepped out of his