PETER PRATT’S “MERRY” CHRISTMAS

Gisborne Times, Volume XXXIII, Issue 3711, 21 December 1912, Page 24

PETER PRATT’S “MERRY” CHRISTMAS

(Ey C. Basil Norton, Gisborne.) “Christmas,” mused the torpedo instructor of H.M.S. “Imperious,” reflectively, as lie crammed his pipe with his chum’s tobacco, and proceeded to cast around for a match —“ain’t ail it’s cracked up to be. The ’oily and the carols is all right, likewise the plum-duff an 'all the rest of it —but what about the Christ masses we ’ad in the oljjL,;RattJer’ r up„the Straits, when Pratt— — l"

“Huh!'’ snorted tlie- youngster of the group, “ ’ore’s another snake yarn—why don't, yet* give ’em a rest and—ow !! ’oo kicked me?”

“My son,” continued the first speaker reprovingly, and addressing tlie interrupter—“ Peter Pratt was an able-bodied, web-footed seadog when you was being fed on milk outer a bottle, and -was pic kin ’is oakum in Ctarradmo’ c-hokce when you was pullin’ a tin puff-puff along the floor! — so dry up while yer betters are speakin’ ! As I was sayin’,” he went on, turning to the clan who were eagerly dwelling on the instructor’s conversation, “what about the Christmas we ’ad when Peter -Pratt pinched the currants of the duff which we didn’t ’a vc?”

“Let’s ’.ave it! Spin tlie yarn, old man !” came the insistent demands from all sides, and, .nothing loth, the Torpedo Instructor, having successfully negotiated the loan of matches, continued. • “It was about ten years ago, when tlie “Rattler” was guard- j ship at Alexandria, and Peter and me was about the two best behaved characters on board of ’er, that we got sudden orders to shove off to Beyrout—that’s on the coast of Syria, in case yer don’t know! We —that is, Peter an’ me, wos ashore when the orders cum, seein’ what we could pick up cheap in Arab town, while the garlic-fa"es were kow-towing on their little mats. Yer see! the old “Rattler” wos ’omeward bound soon afterwards, and—well, the first turn of the screw pays all debts, and when a Moslem’s got ’is ’ead down, bobbing about on ’is mat. ’e ain’t got no eyes for ■anything else. “We’d got a tidy collection together, when Vo should come along hut a couple of swaddles of the Blankshire Rcg’ment. an’ a sergeant to look after ’em. 'Arrest them men.’ orders ’is mightiness, 'for thievin’ from the Bazaar.—an' tilings commenced to look a hit sick. Well, after a while, when they got the five of us sorted out and ’ad packed off one of them “.waddles to the ’orspital, Peter and me reckoned as ’ow it was time to get aboard. It was some time, ’ovever, afore wo got to the man-a’-war steps, having to pass four pubs to get there, ! ;u + we arrived just in time to see me noble “Battler” ’caving up ’or anchor.

.“We was quite exhausted when we got out to ’er, owing to Peter and me

’aving to work reliefs in lcelting some energy into the boatman, but we caught ’er just as old “Agony” the commander was bawling out “ancrors away!” all the body-snatchers (police) were at the gangway as a guard of ’miner to receive us, but after a lecture the old man let ns orf with a caution, it being close on Christinas, an’ US going ’omc. “Next day we got to Beyrout! That place, as ye ’oo was dragged up at school should know, prodooces currants, raisons and other vegetables which go towards making a duff, aim our robbing thief of a Maltee canteen manager guessed ’e’d work a few points wiv ’is boss by taking back to Malta 'a few sacks of each. Jose was a big fat Maltee —the hardest-’arted dago as ever robbed the poor sailorman, and 'ike all others of ’is breed, ’ad the ’abit of. sleeping sprawled, out on ’is tummy. Well, those ’ere kags of stuff come off all serene, and Jose stowed ’em in a keg-locker overhead on the booms. ’F was muchly suspicious of any prowlers in the locality at night, and it was ’is very suspiciousness which drew Peter’s attention to a scheme which e’ imparted to .me oil Christmas Eve, when we sailed for Malta. “Sess Peter; ‘Say, are we going to ’ave any duff to-morrow?’ ” “Specs so,” I. sed. ‘Well I are we going to ’ave any currants in that there duff?’ ” “Specs so,” ses I again. ‘Ave we got to pay for them currants?’ ” *

J “Um! that’s a ’orse of another color,’ 1 ses I, and with that vPeter opens up ’is scheme. The long and i short of it was that, just before they j called the watch at midnight, Peter j should creep into this locker and cut j open a bag of currants, an’ I was to ! get a kig pannikin and ’old it out for the fruit to fall into. We both ’ad ■ the first watch that night, an’ about quarter to Twelve along come me bold Peter and’ ses—‘Get tlie pannikin I've got um edge on me knife liter razor.’ We done a bit of scouting—kind of a preliminary cantor—an’ the onenks .along to the locker. There wasn’t a sound to he ’card, except iho ; granting of tlie ingins a? they chewed j up the miles, mi’ Ufif' iMiPIbl. ib -.‘ffgl-’.t'--' at least, not as far as wo know. • though it were as black.as an ace of . spades. j “Shoving the knife between ’is teotli ! Peter crawls into the locker. The first bag V felt was Irish apples—some people calls ’em spuds!; the next one. V concluded, was cabbages, , hut the third, by tlie feel of it, was | the (’arrants. ‘.Stand by with that | pannikin,’ ’e whispers—an’ then ’e cut! !

“If I lives to he a thousand, I won’t forget tlie blood-curdlin’ yell that follored! There was a tangled-up ’eop of arms and legs, with spuds an’ oranges flying in all directions. In a few seconds out shot Peter, and ’e bolted as though a million devils were after ’im. Thinks, I —this is no place for dis chile —so I scoots up into tlie wireless room—. Sparks was gone to get ’is relief—flinging the pannikin over tlie sides as I went. Do you know what Peter ’ad bin an’ done? Well, e’ ’ad mistook the fleshy part of -Jose’s thigh for a bag of currants —’ini lying on ’is tummy, too—and the knife did the rest!

“What ’appenod, did yer say? Lor! what didn’t ’appon? After Jose ’ad been carried down the sick-pay to ’ave about seventeen stitches put in ’ini, up come the old 'man, with ’is goldlace togs slung over ’is pyjamas, an’ is end. ‘Clear lower deck, Master-at-Arms,’ ses o’; ‘’ave every souf up.’ Up we tumbles, most with a good ’cart, thinking as ’ow it was about one a.m. on Christmas morning, the Old Man was going to give us an extra whack of rum to drink h’s Valth, and we was all trying to hum “For Vs a Jolly Good Feller.” “When all kinds got up, ’e cleared ’is throat and opened the ball. “ 'Has any man any grievance against the canteen manager,’ ‘e arsks. No answer—though some thought a lot. and some others in the rear rank mumbled something which sounded like “Jam ’im” —hut wasn’t! “ ‘lt is reported to me that a lnur’dvous and—er —bloodthirsty attack lias —er —been made on the canteen manager to-night—does any man know anything about it.’ Not a soul answered!

“ 'Very well,’ ses ’e, ’is jaws set like a rat-trap—‘you \\ ill remain fallen in for five minutes to search your memories. Master-at-Arms, see that silence is kept,’— an’ with that e’ walks away.

“Presently, back e’ comes. Now, Jose was hived better than coaling ships in the “Rattler” and Peter was very popular, so, if anything had been known of ’is ’and in the game, no one would ’ave put ’im away, but Peter was cute and ’adn’t told a soul, bar me. So of course, when the Old Man jerks up ’is eyeglass and ses— ; ‘Well, is anything known of the matter ?’ everybody was mum. “ ‘Very well,’ ’e snaps again, jumping as though someone ’ad kicked ’im —‘Commander!’ “ ‘Sir!’ answers “Old Agony.” “ ’Ands to stations for general drill P Yes, the old senner ’ad us there juggling with gun-sights, an’ chain-cable, and fire-’oses, all that bloomin’ night—Christmas inarning, I should say, till about seven o’oclock. Just as we was reckoning it was gottingheyond a joke, o’ orders—‘Return stores—fall in!’ We’d forgotten all about the “Jolly Good Feller” tune, but some of the language we remembered was awful —and it was all piled on ’im, too! “Up goes ’is eyeglass again. ‘Does anyone know about the assault on the canteen manager?’ ’e ses, as cool as a cucumber. ‘No! I thought not!’ ’E drops ’is eyeglass and stood twirling ’is thumbs a minute, then, chucking it up and catching it in. h’s eye again—a ’abit ’e ’ad when wild —’e perks out: ‘Holystone upper deck!’ “Ye Gods! For four solid hours, bar an Irishman’s breakfast hour—twenty minutes—we shoved about

whacking big ’olystoncs,—one in eacli mauler! There may ’ave been “peace an’ good-will on earth”—but I’ll take my solemn oath there was none aboard the “Rattler!” The Old Man knew just when to ease things up, for another ten minutes would ’aev seen a mutiny—so we packed up ‘olystoncs at dinner-time. The whole affair was reported when we got to Malta, but no one was any the wiser, so the matter dropped. “We —that is, Peter an’ me—’ad nearly forgot all about tlie Bazaar bust-up, when along comes a ten-page memo, from Alexandria. I’ve lost count of the different charges Peter an’ mo ’ad against us, but -any’oiv, while the bands were playing “Rolling ’ome to Merrie England” as the “Rattler” streamed out of Malta on ’er way ’ome, Peter and me ’ad a Gov■ern’in’t appointment, and was busy picking oakum at Cornu)ino Chokee. And what’s more, every morning of that forty-two days we done, when trooping round the exorcise yard, Peter ’ml catch my eye, and when the warder wasn’t looking, ’e’d make a circular motion on ’is thigh. It puzzled most of the other crowd—but it didn’t me!”