The song gradually called the Dominie to his recollection; indeed, the strain was so beautiful that it would have vibrated in the ears of a dying man. The Dominie gradually turned round, and when old Tom had finished, exclaimed, Truly it did delight mine ear, and from suchand, continued the Dominie, looking down upon old Tomwithout legs too!
Why, old gentleman, I dont sing with my legs, answered old Tom.
Nay, good Dux, I am not so deficient as not to be aware that a man singeth from the mouth; yet is thy voice mellifluous, sweet as the honey of Hybla, strong
As the Latin for goose, finished Tom. Come, father, old Dictionary is in the doldrums; rouse him up with another stave.
Ill rouse you up with the stave of a cask over your shoulders, Mr Tom. What have you done with the old gentlemans swallow-tail?
Leave me to settle that affair, father: I know how to get out of a scrape.
So you ought, you scamp, considering how many you get into; but the craft are swinging and heaving up. Forward there, Jacob, and sway up the mast; theres Tom and Tommy to help you.
The mast was hoisted up, the sail set, and the lighter in the stream before the Dominie was out of his reverie.
Are there whirlpools here? said the Dominie, talking more to himself than to those about him.
Whirlpools! replied young Tom, who was watching and mocking him; yes, that there are, under the bridges. Ive watched a dozen chips go down, one after the other.
A dozen ships! exclaimed the Dominie, turning to Tom; and every soul lost?
Never saw them afterwards, replied Tom, in a mournful voice.
How little did I dream of the dangers of those so near me, said the Dominie, turning away, and communing with himself. Those who go down to the sea in ships, and occupy their business in great waters;Et vastas aperit Syrtes;These men see the works of the Lord, and his wonders in the deep.Alternante vorans vasta Charybdis aqua.For at his word the stormy wind ariseth, which lifteth up the waves thereof.Surgens a puppi ventus.Ubi tempestas et caeli mobilis humor.They are carried up to the heavens, and down again to the deep.Gurgitibus miris et lactis vertice torrens.Their soul melteth away because of their troubles.Stant pavidi. Omnibus ignoiae mortis timor, omnibus hostem.They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man.
So they do, father, dont they, sometimes? observed Tom, leering his eye at his father. Thats all Ive understood of his speech.
They are at their wits end, continued the Dominie.
Mind the end of your wit, master Tom, answered his father, wroth at the insinuation.
So when they call upon the Lord in their troubleCujus jurare timent et fallere nomenHe delivereth them out of their distress, for he makest the storm to cease, so that the waves thereof are still; yea, still and smooth as the peaceful water which now floweth rapidly by our anchored vesselyet it appeareth to me that the scene hath changed. These fields met not mine eyes before. Riparumque toros et prata recentia rivis. Surely we have moved from the wharf?and the Dominie turned round, and discovered, for the first time, that we were more than a mile from the place at which we had embarked.
Pray, sir, whats the use of speech, sir? interrogated Tom, who had been listening to the whole of the Dominies long soliloquy.
Thou asketh a foolish question, boy. We are endowed with the power of speech to enable us to communicate our ideas.
Thats exactly what I thought, sir. Then pray whats the use of your talking all that gibberish, that none of us could understand?
I crave thy pardon, child; I spoke, I presume, in the dead languages.
If theyre dead, why not let them rest in their graves?
Good; thou hast wit. (Cluck, cluck.) Yet, child, know that it is pleasant to commune with the dead.
Is it? then well put you on shore at Battersea churchyard.
Silence, Tom. Hes full of his sauce, siryou must forgive it.
Nay, it pleaseth me to hear him talk; but it would please me more to hear thee sing.
Then here goes, sir, to drown Toms impudence:
Glide on my bark, the morning tide
Is gently floating by thy side;
Around thy prow the waters bright,
In circling rounds of broken light,
Are glittering, as if ocean gave
Her countless gems unto the wave.
Thats a pretty air, and I first heard it sung by a pretty woman; but thats all I know of the song. She sang another
Id be a butterfly, born in a bower.
Youd be a butterfly! said the Dominie, taking old Tom literally, and looking at his person.
Young Tom roared, Yes, sir, hed be a butterfly, and I dont see why he shouldnt very soon. His legs are gone, and his wings arent come: so hes a grub now, and that, you know, is the next thing to it. What a funny old beggar it is, fatherarent it?
Tom, Tom, go forward, sir; we must shoot the bridge.
Shoot! exclaimed the Dominie; shoot what?
You arent afraid of fire-arms, are ye, sir? inquired Tom.
Nay, I said not that I was afraid of fire-arms; but why should you shoot?
We never could get on without it, sir; we shall have plenty of shooting, by-and-by. You dont know this river.
Indeed, I thought not of such doings; or that there were other dangers besides that of the deep waters.
Go forward, Tom, and dont be playing with your betters, cried old Tom. Never mind him, sir, hes only humbugging you.
Explain, Jacob. The language of both old Tom and young Tom are to me as incomprehensible as would be that of the dog Tommy.
Or as your Latin is to them, sir.
True, Jacob, true. I have no right to complain; nay, I do not complain, for I am amused, although at times much puzzled.
We now shot Putney Bridge, and as a wherry passed us, old Tom carolled out
Did you ever hear tell of a jolly young waterman?
No, I never did, said the Dominie, observing old Toms eyes directed towards him. Tom, amused by this naïveté on the part of the Dominie, touched him by the sleeve, on the other side, and commenced with his treble
Did you neer hear a tale
Of a maid in the vale?
Not that I can recollect, my child, replied the Dominie.
Then, where have you been all your life?
My life has been employed, my lad, in teaching the young idea how to shoot.
So, youre an old soldier, after all, and afraid of fire-arms. Why dont you hold yourself up? I suppose its that enormous jib of yours that brings you down by the head.