Biltmore Oswald Read online

managed to keep so fat after having mounted tosuch a great distance for so long a time. Somehow they had done it,not only maintained their already acquired fat but added greatlythereto. There would be no refreshing cup to quaff upon arriving, onlywater, or at best milk. This I knew and the knowledge added pounds tomy already heavy feet.

  "My, what a dirty sailor you are, to be sure," they said to me fromthe depth of their plump complacency.

  "Quite so," I gasped, falling into a chair, "I seem to remember havingheard the same thing once before to-day."

  _June 25th._ Neither Saturday nor Sunday was a complete success andfor a while Saturday afternoon assumed the proportions of a disaster.After having rested from my climb, I decided to wash my Whites so thatI wouldn't be arrested as a deserter or be thrown into the brig uponchecking in. The fat people on learning of my intentions decided thatthe sight of such labor would tire them beyond endurance, so theydeparted, leaving me in solitary possession of their flat. I thereuponremoved my jumper, humped my back over the tub, scrubbed industriouslyuntil the garment was white, then hastened roofwards and arranged itprettily on the line. This accomplished, I hurried down, removed mytrousers, rehumped my back over the tub, scrubbed industriously untilthe trousers in turn were white and once more dashed roofwards. I havealways been absent minded, but never to such an appalling extent as toappear clad only in my scanty underwear in the midst of a mixed throngof ladies, gentlemen and children. This I did. Some venturous soulshad claimed the roof as their own during my absence so that when Isprang from the final step to claim my place in the sun I found myselfby no means alone. With a cry of horror I leaped to the other side ofthe clothes-line and endeavored to conceal myself behind an old lady'spetticoat or a lady's old petticoat or something of that nature.Whoever wore the thing must have been a very short person indeed, forthe garment reached scarcely down to my knees, below which my B.V.D.'sfluttered in an intriguing manner.

  "Sir," thundered a pompous gentleman, "have you any explanation foryour surprising conduct?"

  "Several," I replied briskly from behind my only claim onrespectability. "In the first place, I didn't expect an audience. Inthe second--"

  "That will do, sir," broke in this heavy person in a quarterdeckvoice. "Who, may I ask, are you?"

  "You may," I replied. "I'm a God-fearing sailor man who is doing thebest he can to keep nice and clean in spite of the uncalled forintervention of a red-faced oaf of a plumber person who should knowbetter than to stand around watching him."

  "I'M A GOD-FEARING SAILOR MAN WHO IS DOING THE BEST HECAN TO KEEP CLEAN"]

  "Don't take on so, George," said one of the women whom I suspected ofedging around in order to get a better view of me, "the poor young manis a sailor--where is your patriotism?"

  "Yes," broke in the other woman, edging around on the other side,"he's one of our sailor boys. Treat him nice."

  "Patriotic, I am," roared George wrathfully, "but not to the extent ofcondoning and looking lightly upon such a flagrant breach of decencyas this semi-nude, so-called sailor has committed in our midst."

  "If you'd give me a couple of Thrift Stamps," I suggested, "I might beable to come out from behind this blooming barrage."

  "Shameless," exploded the man.

  "Not at all," I replied, "in the olden days it was quite customary foryoung gentlemen and elderly stout ones like yourself, for instance, todrop in at the best caves with very much less on than I have withoutany one considering their conduct in any degree irregular. In fact,the ladies of this time were no better themselves, it being deemedhighly proper for them to appear in some small bit of stuff and nobodythought the worst of it at all. Take the early days of the fifteenthcentury B.C.--"

  At this point in my eloquent address a young child, who had hithertoescaped my attention, took it upon herself to swing on the line withthe result that it parted with a snap and my last vestige ofprotection came fluttering to the roof. For one tense moment I stoodgazing into the dilated eyes of those before me. Then with surprisingpresence of mind, I sprang to a ladder that led to the water tank,swarmed up it with the agility of a cat and lowered myself with a gaspof despair into the cold, cold water of the tank. From this place ofsecurity I gazed down on the man who had been responsible for myunfortunate plight. I felt myself sinned against, and the longer Iremained in that water, up to my neck, the more I felt my wrongs. Igave voice to them. I said bitter, abusive things to the man.

  "Clear the quarter deck," I shouted, "get aft, or, by gad, I'll comefluttering down there on your flat, bald head like a blooming flood.Vamoos, hombre, pronto--plenty quick and take your brood with you."Then I said some more things as my father before me had said them, andthe man withdrew with his women.

  "He's a sailor," he said as he did so. "Hurry, my dears, this is worsethan nakedness."

  I emerged and sat in a borrowed bathrobe the rest of the evening. Thenext morning my clothes were still damp. Now, that's what I call astupid way to spend a Saturday night on liberty. The fat peopleenjoyed it.

  _June 29th._ I met a very pleasant dog yesterday, whom I called Mr.Fogerty because of his sober countenance and the benign but ratherpuzzled expression in his large, limpid eyes, which were almostcompletely hidden by his bangs. He was evidently a visitor in camp, soI took him around and introduced him to the rest of the dogs andseveral of the better sort of goats. In all of these he displayed afriendly but dignified interest, seeming to question them on the lifeof the camp, how they liked the Navy and what they thought were theprospects for an early peace. He refused to be separated from me,however, and even broke into the mess hall, from which he wasunceremoniously ejected, but not before he had gotten half of myration. In some strange manner he must have found out from one of theother dogs my name and address and exactly where I swung, for in themiddle of the night I awoke to hear a lonesome whining in the darknessbeneath my hammock and then the sniff, sniff of an investigating nose.As I know how it feels to be lonely in a big black barracks in thedead of night I carefully descended to the deck and collected thisanimal--it was my old friend, Mr. Fogerty, and he was quite overjoyedat having once more found me. After licking my face in gratitude hesat back on his haunches and waited for me to do something amusing. Ididn't have the heart to leave him there in the darkness. Dogs have acertain way about them that gets me every time. I lifted Mr. Fogerty,a huge hulk of a dog, with much care, and adjusting of overlappingpaws into my hammock, and received a kiss in the eye for my trouble.Then I followed Mr. Fogerty into the hammock and resumed my slumber,but not with much comfort. Mr. Fogerty is a large, sprawly dog, whoevidently has been used to sleeping in vast spaces and who sees noreason for changing a lifelong habit. Consequently he considered me inthe nature of a piece of gratifying upholstery. He slept with his hindlegs on my stomach and his front paws propped against my chin. When hescratched, as he not infrequently did, what I decided must be a flea,his hind leg beat upon the canvas and produced a noise not unlike adrum. Thus we slept, but through some miscalculation I must have sleptover, for it seems that the Master-at-arms, a very large and capableIrishman, came and shook my hammock.

  "I TOOK HIM AROUND AND INTRODUCED HIM TO THE REST OFTHE DOGS AND SEVERAL OF THE BETTER SORT OF GOATS"]

  "Hit the deck there, sailor," he said, "shake a leg, shake a leg."

  At this point Mr. Fogerty took it upon himself to peer over the sideof the hammock to see who this disturber of peace and quiet could be.This was just a little out of the line of duty for the jimmy legs, andI can't say as I blame him for his conduct under rather tryingcircumstances. Mr. Fogerty has a large, shaggy head, not unlike alion's, and his mouth, too, is quite large and contains some very longand sharp teeth. It seems that Mr. Fogerty, still heavy with slumber,quite naturally yawned into the horrified face of the Jimmy-legs, who,mistaking the operation for a hostile demonstration, retreated fromthe barracks with admirable rapidity for one so large, crying in adistracted voice as he did so:

  "By the saints, it's a beast he's turned into during the night. Sure
,it's a visitation of Providence, heaven preserve us."

  It seems I have been washing hammocks ever since. Mr. Fogerty sitsaround and wonders what it's all about. I like Fogerty, but he gets mein trouble, and in this I need no help whatsoever.

  "I RESUMED MY SLUMBER, BUT NOT WITH MUCH COMFORT"]

  _July 1st._ This day I almost succeeded in sinking myself for thefinal count. The fishes around about the environs of City Island weredisappointed beyond words when I came up for the fourth time andstayed up. In my delirium I imagined that school had been let out inhonor of my reception and that all the pretty little fishes weresticking around in expectant groups cheering loudly at