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Page 40
"'Slow and sure is best,' she said, and stuck to her own system.
"'What's that, my dear?' she asked, when the sailor came in and held up
the handkerchief. He told her.
"'You're always a-laying out your money on something or other,' said
the old lady, who took the privilege of her years to be a little testy.
'What did you give for _that_?'
"'A shilling, ma'am.'
"'Tst! tst! tst!' said the old lady, disapprovingly.
"'Now, Mother, don't shake that cap of yours off your head,' said the
sailor. 'What's a shilling? If I hadn't spent it, I should have changed
it; and once change a shilling, and it all dribbles away in coppers,
and you get nothing for it. But spend it in the lump, and you get
something you want. That's what I say.'
"'_I_ want no more pets,' said the old lady, stiffly.
"'Well, you won't be troubled with this one long,' said her son; 'it'll
go with me, and that's soon enough.'
"Any allusion to his departure always melted the old lady, as Jack well
knew. She became tearful, and begged him to leave the thrush with her.
"'You know, my dear, I've always looked to your live things as if they
were Christians; and loved them too (unless it was that monkey that I
never _could_ do with!). Leave it with me, my dear. I'd never bother
myself with a bird on board ship, if I was you.'
"'That's because you've got a handsome son of your own, old lady,'
chuckled the sailor; 'I've neither chick nor child, ma'am, remember,
and a man must have something to look to. The bird'll go with me.'
"And so it came to pass that just when the thrush was becoming
domesticated, and almost happy at the cottage, one morning the sailor
brought him fresh turf and groundsel, besides his meal-cake, and took
the cage down. And the old woman kissed the wires, and bade the bird
good-bye, and blessed her son, and prayed Heaven to bring him safe home
again; and they went their way.
"The forecastle of a steam-ship (even of a big one) is a poor exchange
for a snug cottage to any one but a sailor. To Jack, the ship was home.
_He_ had never lived in a wood, and carolled in tree-tops. He preferred
blue to green, and pine masts to pine trees; and he smoked his pipe
very comfortably in the forecastle, whilst the ship rolled to and fro,
and swung the bird's cage above his head. To the thrush it was only an
imprisonment that grew worse as time went on. Each succeeding day made
him pine more bitterly for his native woods--for fresh air and green
leaves, and the rest and quiet, and sweet perfumes, and pleasant sounds
of country life. His turf dried up, his groundsel withered, and no more
could be got. He longed even to be back with the old woman--to see the
apple-tree, and the window-plants, and be still. The shudder of the
screw, the blasts of hot air from the engine and cook's galley, the
ceaseless jangling, clanging, pumping noises, and all the indescribable
smells which haunt a steam-ship, became more wearisome day by day. Even
when the cage was hung outside, the, sea breeze seemed to mock him with
its freshness. The rich blue of the waters gave him no pleasure, his
eyes failed with looking for green, the bitter, salt spray vexed him,
and the wind often chilled him to the bone, whilst the sun shone, and
icebergs gleamed upon the horizon.
"The sailor had been so kind a master, that the thrush had become
deeply attached to him, as birds will; and while at the cottage he had
scarcely fretted after his beloved wood. But with every hour of the
voyage, home-sickness came more strongly upon him, and his heart went
back to the nest, and the pine-top, and the old home. When one sleeps
soundly, it is seldom that one remembers one's dreams; but when one is
apt to be roused by an unexpected lurch of the ship, by the moan of a
fog-whistle, or the scream of an engine, one becomes a light sleeper,
and the visions of the night have a strange reality, and are easily
recalled. And now the thrush always dreamt of home.
"One day he was hung outside. It was not a very fine day, but he looked
drooping, and the pitying sailor brought him out, to get some air. His
heart was sore with home-sickness, and he watched the sea-birds
skimming up and down with envious eyes. It seemed all very well for
poor men, who hadn't so much as a wing to carry them over the water, to
build lumbering sea-nests, with bodies to float in the water like fish,
and wings of canvas to carry them along, and to help it out with noisy
steam-engines--and to endure it all. But for him, who could fly over a
hundred tree-tops before a man could climb to one, it was hard to swing
outside a ship, and to watch other birds use their wings, when his,
which quivered to fly homewards, could only flutter against the bars.
As he thought, a roll of the ship threw him forward, the wind shook the
wires of the cage, and loosened the fastening; and, when the vessel
righted, the cage-door swung slowly open.
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