Read Online The Voyages and Adventures of Captain Hatteras by Jules Verne - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jules Verne
Tags: Sea stories, Adventure stories
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Gripper?"
"To tell the truth," answered the sailor who had been addressed, and who generally pretended to be very sullen, "I must say I can't see it from here."
"That's merely your way of talking, Gripper; it is evident that, in those snow towns which Dr. Clawbonny is always admiring, there's no tavern where a poor sailor can moisten his throat with a drink or two of brandy."
"You may be sure of that, Bolton; and you might add that on board of this ship there's no way of getting properly refreshed. A strange idea, sending people into the northern seas, and giving them nothing to drink!"
"Well," answered Garry, "have you forgotten, Gripper, what the doctor said? One must go without spirits if he expects to escape the scurvy, remain in good health, and sail far."
"I don't care to sail far, Garry; and I think it's enough to have come as far as this, and to try to get through here where the Devil doesn't mean to let us through."
"Well, we sha'n't get through," retorted Pen. "O, when I think I have already forgotten how gin tastes!"
"But," said Bolton, "remember what the doctor said."
"O," answered Pen, with his rough voice, "that's all very well to say! I fancy that they are economizing it under the pretext of saving our health."
"Perhaps that devil Pen is right," said Gripper.
"Come, come!" replied Bolton, "his nose is too red for that; and if a little abstinence should make it a trifle paler, Pen won't need to be pitied."
"Don't trouble yourself about my nose," was the answer, for Pen was rather vexed. "My nose doesn't need your advice; it doesn't ask for it; you'd better mind your own business."
"Come, don't be angry, Pen; I didn't think your nose was so tender. I should be as glad as any one else to have a glass of whiskey, especially on such a cold day; but if in the long run it does more harm than good, why, I'm very willing to get along without it."
"You may get along without it," said Warren, the stoker, who had joined them, "but it's not everybody on board who gets along without it."
"What do you mean, Warren?" asked Garry, looking at him intently.
"I mean that for one purpose or another there is liquor aboard, and I fancy that aft they don't get on without it."
"What do you know about it?" asked Garry.
Warren could not answer; he spoke for the sake of speaking.
"You see, Garry," continued Bolton, "that Warren knows nothing about it."
"Well," said Pen, "we'll ask the commander for a ration of gin; we deserve it, and we'll see what he'll say."
"I advise you not to," said Garry.
"Why not?" cried Pen and Gripper.
"Because the commander will refuse it. You knew what the conditions were when you shipped; you ought to think of that now."
"Besides," said Bolton, who was not averse to taking Garry's side, for he liked him, "Richard Shandon is not master; he's under orders like the rest of us."
"Whose orders?" asked Pen.
"The captain's."
"Ah, that ridiculous captain's!" cried Pen. "Don't you know there's no more captain than there is tavern on the ice? That's a mean way of refusing politely what we ask for."
"But there is a captain," persisted Bolton; "and I'll wager two months' pay that we shall see him before long."
"All right!" said Pen; "I should like to give him a piece of my mind."
"Who's talking about the captain?" said a new speaker.
It was Clifton, who was inclined to be superstitious and envious at the same time.
"Is there any news about the captain?" he asked.
"No," a single voice answered.
"Well, I expect to find him settled in his cabin some fine morning, and without any one's knowing how or whence he came aboard."
"Nonsense!" answered Bolton; "you imagine, Clifton, that he's an imp, a hobgoblin such as are seen in the Scotch Highlands."
"Laugh if you want to, Bolton; that won't alter my opinion. Every day as I pass the cabin I peep in through the keyhole, and one of these days I'll tell you what he looks like, and how he's made."
"O, the devil!" said Pen; "he'll look like everybody
"To tell the truth," answered the sailor who had been addressed, and who generally pretended to be very sullen, "I must say I can't see it from here."
"That's merely your way of talking, Gripper; it is evident that, in those snow towns which Dr. Clawbonny is always admiring, there's no tavern where a poor sailor can moisten his throat with a drink or two of brandy."
"You may be sure of that, Bolton; and you might add that on board of this ship there's no way of getting properly refreshed. A strange idea, sending people into the northern seas, and giving them nothing to drink!"
"Well," answered Garry, "have you forgotten, Gripper, what the doctor said? One must go without spirits if he expects to escape the scurvy, remain in good health, and sail far."
"I don't care to sail far, Garry; and I think it's enough to have come as far as this, and to try to get through here where the Devil doesn't mean to let us through."
"Well, we sha'n't get through," retorted Pen. "O, when I think I have already forgotten how gin tastes!"
"But," said Bolton, "remember what the doctor said."
"O," answered Pen, with his rough voice, "that's all very well to say! I fancy that they are economizing it under the pretext of saving our health."
"Perhaps that devil Pen is right," said Gripper.
"Come, come!" replied Bolton, "his nose is too red for that; and if a little abstinence should make it a trifle paler, Pen won't need to be pitied."
"Don't trouble yourself about my nose," was the answer, for Pen was rather vexed. "My nose doesn't need your advice; it doesn't ask for it; you'd better mind your own business."
"Come, don't be angry, Pen; I didn't think your nose was so tender. I should be as glad as any one else to have a glass of whiskey, especially on such a cold day; but if in the long run it does more harm than good, why, I'm very willing to get along without it."
"You may get along without it," said Warren, the stoker, who had joined them, "but it's not everybody on board who gets along without it."
"What do you mean, Warren?" asked Garry, looking at him intently.
"I mean that for one purpose or another there is liquor aboard, and I fancy that aft they don't get on without it."
"What do you know about it?" asked Garry.
Warren could not answer; he spoke for the sake of speaking.
"You see, Garry," continued Bolton, "that Warren knows nothing about it."
"Well," said Pen, "we'll ask the commander for a ration of gin; we deserve it, and we'll see what he'll say."
"I advise you not to," said Garry.
"Why not?" cried Pen and Gripper.
"Because the commander will refuse it. You knew what the conditions were when you shipped; you ought to think of that now."
"Besides," said Bolton, who was not averse to taking Garry's side, for he liked him, "Richard Shandon is not master; he's under orders like the rest of us."
"Whose orders?" asked Pen.
"The captain's."
"Ah, that ridiculous captain's!" cried Pen. "Don't you know there's no more captain than there is tavern on the ice? That's a mean way of refusing politely what we ask for."
"But there is a captain," persisted Bolton; "and I'll wager two months' pay that we shall see him before long."
"All right!" said Pen; "I should like to give him a piece of my mind."
"Who's talking about the captain?" said a new speaker.
It was Clifton, who was inclined to be superstitious and envious at the same time.
"Is there any news about the captain?" he asked.
"No," a single voice answered.
"Well, I expect to find him settled in his cabin some fine morning, and without any one's knowing how or whence he came aboard."
"Nonsense!" answered Bolton; "you imagine, Clifton, that he's an imp, a hobgoblin such as are seen in the Scotch Highlands."
"Laugh if you want to, Bolton; that won't alter my opinion. Every day as I pass the cabin I peep in through the keyhole, and one of these days I'll tell you what he looks like, and how he's made."
"O, the devil!" said Pen; "he'll look like everybody
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