The Knight Of The Golden Melice - John Turvill Adams (little red riding hood read aloud txt) 📗

Be Disposed Of. Waqua Was

Glad To Make The Promise, And The Two Separated; The One, Directing

His Steps Towards His Lodging; And The Other, To Seek A Purchaser For

His Commodities. Arundel Was Anxious To Express His Gratitude, And,

Besides, Was Interested By The Talk Of The Child Of The Forest; While

Waqua, On His Part, Was Evidently Disposed To Meet Any Advances.

  

 

Eleazar Nettles, The Worthy Host Of The Ship-Tavern, Who Stood At The

Door Of The Low Rambling Building, Welcomed His Lodger With All The

Cordiality He Could Throw Into A Face Originally Not Ill-Looking Or

Unpleasing, But Which, In Consequence Of Practising An Appearance Of

Mortification, (In Order To Stand Well With The Grave Citizens), Which

Neither Belonged To The Calling Wherein He Was Engaged, Nor By Nature

To Itself, Seemed An Odd Mixture Of Earthly Depravity And Of Heavenly

Grace. Not That Eleazar Was A Bad Fellow. Nature Had Originally

Enclosed In His Dumpy Body A Good-Humoured Soul Enough, And, In A Less

Austere Community, Where The Bent Of His Disposition Might Have Had

Fair Play, He Would Have Been A Rather Jolly Dog. He Was, However, A

Victim Of Fate. By What Disastrous Chance His Lot Was Cast In That

Grim-Visaged Region, Has Never Been Satisfactorily Explained, But

Being Once In It, And A Publican By Profession, It Was Necessary To

Conform To The Habits And Manners Of Those About Him, Unless He

Desired To See His License Taken Away, And Himself A Suspected Person,

As Well As Without Employment. These Prudential Considerations

Contending With Eleazar's Nature, Had Sobered The Otherwise Mirthful

Features Of His Face, And Made Him Present The Appearance Of A Merry

And A Sad Man Rolled Into One, Each Striving For The Mastery, And Each

Alternately Achieving Victory, According To Circumstances. The Merry

Man Was Safe In The Presence Of Arundel, And, Therefore, His Mouth

Dissolved Into A Pleasant Chuckle As He Welcomed Him.

 

 

 

"It Is A Joy And An Honor, Master Arundel," He Said, "To See Again A

Discreet Young Gentleman Like Yourself, Whose Spirits--Ahem!--Are

Lively As My Own Ale, And Yet Chastised By A Godly 'Havior. You Must

Have Had Something Of A Walk This Morning. What Refreshment May It

Please You To Take?"

  

 

While Uttering This Speech, He Had Been Busy Ushering Into The Tap Or

Common Reception Room The Young Man, Who, By The Time It Was Finished,

Was Seated.

 

  

"Thy Guess Hits The Mark, Mine Host," He Said? "But What Is Fitting I

Leave To Thy Discretion. Thou Shalt Prescribe Like A Physician."

 

  

"Thou Art A Sweet-Tempered Gentleman, And Easily Satisfied," Answered

The Host, "And I Should Be No Better Than A Heathen Salvage To Abuse

Thy Goodness. To Begin, I Have Some Of The Famosest Malt Liquor That

Ever Ran Down Throat With A Relish."

  

 

"Avaunt, With Thy Detestable Malt Liquors. You Inveigled Me Once Into

Tasting The Decoction, And Methinks That Should Satisfy Thee, If Not

Me. Thou Wilt Hardly Succeed A Second Time. It Will Never Do. Thy

Cellar Contains Something Better, To My Knowledge." 

 

 

"As You Say," Replied The Landlord, (Whose Habit Was To Recommend His

Ale To Those Who He Knew Would Not Take It, In Order, Perhaps, To Make

His Wines Taste The Better, By Consideration Of The Contrast)--"As You

Say, Master Arundel, My Malt Liquor, Though The Best In The Country,

Is Not For High-Bred Gentlemen Like Yourself. I Have Spanish Wines,

And French Wines, And Wines From Italy, And From The Canaries, And"-- 

 

 

"Any Will Do," Said Arundel, Knowing That A Single Kind Was Made To

Play The Part Of Vintages From All Parts Of The World; "So Be Prompt,

Good Man, For My Thirst Increases."

 

  

While The Publican, Whose Business Was Not Sufficiently Large To

Warrant Him To Employ A Tapster, Was Absent, Arundel Looked Round The

Apartment To See What Company Was Present. At No Great Distance From

Where He Sat Were Half-A-Dozen Persons, Some Of Whom, By Their Dress,

Seemed To Be Sailors, And Others Citizens. As He Turned To Look At

Them, Two Or Three, Who Were His Acquaintances, Saluted Him; And The

Conversation, Which His Entrance Had A Little Interrupted, Flowed

Again With A Full Current.

  

 

"A Queer Bit Of A Town, Good-Man Fairweather, The Saints Have Built Up

For Themselves," Exclaimed A Man In A Sailor's Jacket. "Do You Know

What It Looks Like To Me?"

  

 

"How Should I Know, Capt. Sparhawk, How Boston Looks To You?" Answered

The Man Addressed.

  

 

"That Depends Upon The Strength Of The Liquor, Methinks," Said A

Third.

  

 

"That Answer, Billy Pantry," Said The Captain, "For A Lubber That

Knows Not The Difference Between The Futtock Shrouds And Jacob's

Ladder, And Whose Head Is So Little And His Paunch So Big, Is What My

Old Schoolmaster Called A Lucy--Lucy--Damn The Other Part Of The

Name--There I Miss Stays, By Neptune!--Anyhow, It Begun With A Nat,

But There Was More Of It."

  

 

"Natwood," Suggested Billy Pantry. "I Know A Polly Natwood In Suffolk,

One Of The Completest Wenches"-- 

 

 

"If She Was Not Completer Than Thy Wit," Interrupted The Captain, "Her

Figure-Head Was Left Unfinished. But, Avast There; We Are Drifting Off

Soundings. Where Was I? Aye; Belay, I Have It. I Was Telling You What

Your Beggarly Town Looks Like." 

 

 

"Aye, But About Lucy," Said Another, Who Had Not Spoken Before, And

Whose Perception Looked Dimly Out Of His Hazy Eyes! "I Should Like To

Hear First About Her. I Always Liked The Women." 

 

 

"Hear Old Wheat," Cried The Captain--"The Wicked Villain. All The

Knowledge He Has Of The Women, I'll Be Qualified On The Main Brace, Is

What He Got From Betty Quickfist When She Hit Him A Cuff On The Ear

For His Impudence, And Twisted It Out O' Shape, As Ye May See Without

Taking A Quadrant For The Observation."

  

 

"Why," Said Billy Pantry, Turning His Mess-Mate's Head About, "His Two

Ears Are Much Alike, And, As You Say, Captain, Lop Damnably; So He

Must Have Caught It On Both Of Them, Though This One Here, Away To

Windward, Looks As If It Had Been Cut Off And Stuck On Again."

  

 

"Shut Up Your Duff-Trap," Said Wheat, Gruffly, "Or I'll Send Your

Teeth On A Cruise Down Your Throat."

  

 

"Come, Come," Cried The Captain, "I Choose To Do All The Quarreling

For This Company. How Now, My Masters, Is There To Be No Discipline

When My Foot Is Off The Quarter-Deck? If Another Man Speaks Above His

Breath, By The Beard Of Father Neptune, I Will Stop His Grog. Where

Was I? Let Me Take The Latitude Once More. Aye, Here Away Bearing Up

To Tell How I Liked This Prig Of A Town."

  

 

"Blast My Tarry Top-Lights And To'gallant Eyebrows. Do You Call This A

Town?" Demanded Bill. "Folk Does Not Call A Thing Like This A Town In

Old Hingland."

  

 

"Aye, Old England Forever," Cried The Captain, Standing Up. "Boys,

Fill Your Cups All Round, And We Will Drink A Health To Our Dear Old

Mammy."

 

 

 

"I Should Like To Pleasure You, Captain," Said One Of The Citizens,

"And Will Drink In All Reason Till Sundown, But There Is A Law Against

Drinking Healths."

  

 

"I Suppose There Will Be A Law Next," Exclaimed The Captain, "Against

Eating, And That Will Finish The Job. The Rest Of You May Do As You

Like, But Jack Sparhawk Never Yet Was Afraid Of Any Man, And Is Not

Going Now To Strike His Peak To Admiral Winthrop. So Here's A Toast

For Ye:

  

 

  "Prosperity To England's Friends!

    Perdition To Her Foes!

  Heaven To Herself! To Hell She Sends

    All Spaniards And Crapeaua!"

  

 

Saying This, He Drained His Cup. "And Now, Boys, About This Little

Starched Old Maid Of A Town--"

  

 

"There You Are, In A Fog, Captain," Interrupted Pantry. "How Can It Be

An Old Maid, When, On Every Tack, Half A Dozen Children, Like So Many

Porpoises, Come Across Your Bows?"

  

 

"Any Wit But Thine Own Would Easily Box That Compass," Answered The

Captain. "But Talking Is Thirsty Business, And We Will Have Up Another

Bottle. Halloa, Old Nettletop, Bear A Hand With Some More Of Your

Weak-Waters. What Do You Stand Gaping There For, Like A Chicken With

The Pip? Off With You. And Now, While Old Thistle Is Rummaging The

Locker, I Will Give You My Mind About This Matter Of--"

 

  

But, Alas! An Incident Now Occurred Which Has Deprived Posterity

Forever Of The Invaluable Opinion Of Captain Sparhawk Respecting The

Appearance Of Boston In 16--, And Of His Explanation Of The Phenomenon

Suggested By Bill.

  

 

Some Five Or Ten Minutes Before, A Grave Looking Personage, With A

Long Staff In His Hand, Had Stolen Quietly Into The Room, Unnoticed By

Any One But Arundel--The Landlord Being Absent At The Time--And Taken

A Seat Where He Could Overhear The Conversation. Upon Mine Host's

Return, And Noticing The Stranger, He Exhibited Some Embarrassment,

And Endeavored To Catch The Attention Of The Drinking Party Without

Attracting That Of The New Comer. His Efforts, However, Were In Vain,

And Assuming An Air Of Deep Mortification, He Waited For What Should

Happen. Upon Being Required By The Captain To Supply More Wine, He Had

Shaken His Head, Which It Seems Was Not Taken Much Notice Of By The

Sailor, And Was Preparing To Reply, When He Was Anticipated By The

Stranger. Lifting Up His Staff, And Pointing With It At The Table, He

Said,

  

 

"Furnish No More Strong Liquor, Good Man Nettles, To These Carousers.

Methinks They Have Already Had More Than Enough For Their Souls' Or

Bodies' Health."

  

 

"I Will Not Gainsay Thee, Master Prout," Said The Host, "And Will

Obey, As Becometh A Man Who Respects Thee And Thine Office; But The

Wine Is Good And Can Do No Harm, As Thou Mayest Convince Thyself By

Trial. I Will Pour Thee Out A Cup."

  

 

"Nay," Said Master Prout, "I Need It Not. I Do Stand Amazed," He

Added, Bending His Brows Severely On The Host, "That, A Man Professing

Godliness, And One Of The Congregation, Shouldst Administer To The

Carnal Appetite Till The Graceless Sinner Is Converted Into A Swine."

  

 

"Dear Master Prout, Be Not So Hard On A Friend. I Knew Not The

Strength Of My Wine, Or That These Strangers Were So Unaccustomed To

Drinking. The Wine Hath Been But Lately Bought, Being Part Of The

Cargo Of The Abstemious, And Thou Knowest I A Indulge Not, Else I

Should Have Been Acquainted With Its Potency, And Regulated Things

Accordingly. But Thou Seest The Six Have Drunk Only So Many Poor

Bottles."

 

  

"Enough, Goodman Nettles," Answered Prout. "Remove, Now, These

Incitements To Temptation, And After That Will I Drop A Word Of

Friendly Advisement Into The Ears Of These Offenders."

  

 

During This Conversation A Profound Silence Had Prevailed At The

Table--The Three Citizens Recognising In The Intruder One Whose

Authority It Would Be Folly To Resist, And The Sailors Apparently

Confounded At The Boldness Of The Interference, And Curious To Hear

What Should Pass Between The Landlord And His Dictatorial Visitor. But

When Mine Host, In Obedience To An Order From The Latter, Began To

Take Away The Bottles And Cups, Captain Sparhawk, Who Had Sat Leaning

On His Elbow Upon The Table And Eyeing The Two, Now Seemed To Think

That His Dignity Required Some Interference On His Part.

  

 

"How Now, My Masters," He Exclaimed. "What Coil Is This? Are We To Be

Boarded In This Piratical Way, And See All Our Stores And, Provisions

Captured Without A Blow? Run Up The Red Cross, Wheat. Call All Hands

To Repel Boarders, And Follow Me."

  

 

"Cease Thy Papistical Babble; It Doth Vex My Soul More Even Than Thy

Drunkenness," Cried Master Prout.

  

 

"Papist In Thy Teeth And Drunkenness To Boot," Exclaimed The Excited

Captain, At The Same Time Striking At Master Prout, Who, However,

Easily Eluded The Blow Of The Intoxicated Man.

 

  

The Other Two Sailors Now Manifested Some Intention Of Coming To The

Assistance Of Their Superior, But Were Held Back By The Citizens, And

Restrained, Moreover, By A Knowledge Of The Formidable Power Of Master

Prout, Who Was Well Known As A Sort Of Censor Or Guardian Of The

Morals Of The Place, Appointed By The Magistrates.

  

 

"Keep Quiet, Man," Said Prout, Pushing The Obstreperous Captain Back

Into His Seat, "Or Thy Mazzard And My Staff May Become Better

Acquainted Than Will Be Altogether Agreeable. Do Thou Hold Him, Good

Man Nettles, As Being In Some Wise Accountable For His Condition. So

Shalt Thou, Also, Partake Of The Savory Crumbs Of Advice Which It Is

My Intention To Bestow On This Man Of Belial And His Companions."

  

 

Master Prout, Thereupon Drawing A Chair, Placed It Immediately In

Front Of The Captain, And Seated Himself, While Mine Host Held The

Delinquent Fast. The Functionary Paid No Attention Whatever To The

Exclamations And Ejaculations Of The Sailor, Which, Furious At First,

Gradually Died Away Until They Ceased Entirely, But Went On Steadily

With His Speech.

  

 

"Thou Art A Stranger," He Said, "And Therefore Am I The More Disposed

To Overlook Thy Transgression, Seeing That Thou Art Not Acquainted

With The Manners Of The Godly Town