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Chapter 37 - Page 2
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The by-standers were breathless, when at last this puncheon was
canted over and a tin-pot held to the orifice. What was to come
forth? salt-water or wine? But a rich purple tide soon settled
the question, and the lieutenant assigned to taste it, with a
loud and satisfactory smack of his lips, pronounced it Port!
"Oporto!" cried Mad Jack, "and no mistake!"
But, to the surprise, grief, and consternation of the sailors, an
order now came from the quarter-deck to strike the "strangers
down into the main-hold!" This proceeding occasioned all sorts of
censorious observations upon the Captain, who, of course, had
authorised it.
It must be related here that, on the passage out from home, the
Neversink had touched at Madeira; and there, as is often the case
with men-of-war, the Commodore and Captain had laid in a goodly
stock of wines for their own private tables, and the benefit of
their foreign visitors. And although the Commodore was a small,
spare man, who evidently emptied but few glasses, yet Captain
Claret was a portly gentleman, with a crimson face, whose father
had fought at the battle of the Brandywine, and whose brother had
commanded the well-known frigate named in honour of that
engagement. And his whole appearance evinced that Captain Claret
himself had fought many Brandywine battles ashore in honour of
his sire's memory, and commanded in many bloodless Brandywine
actions at sea.
It was therefore with some savour of provocation that the sailors
held forth on the ungenerous conduct of Captain Claret, in
stepping in between them and Providence, as it were, which by
this lucky windfall, they held, seemed bent upon relieving their
necessities; while Captain Claret himself, with an inexhaustible
cellar, emptied his Madeira decanters at his leisure.
But next day all hands were electrified by the old familiar
sound--so long hushed--of the drum rolling to grog.
After that the port was served out twice a day, till all was
expended.
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