appearing to be the leading operations of a rowdy’s
toilet; and, gathering round Lobster Bob, who has
been steadily employed in opening oysters for all
who have a midsummer faith in those mollusks, they
commenced rapidly swallowing great quantities of the
various kinds, which they seasoned to an alarming
extent with coarse black pepper and brownish salt.
The fierce thirst, which, with these men, is not a
consequence, because it is a thing that was and is
and ever will be, was brought vividly to their minds
by this unnecessary adstimulation; and now the bar-keeper,
whose lager-beer was wellnigh exhausted, from its
connection with ham-sandwiches, had enough to do to
furnish them with whiskey, of which stimulant there
was but too large a supply on hand. The consequence
of this was soon apparent in the ugly hilarity with
which the rowdies entered upon the enjoyment of the
afternoon. First, in spite of the remonstrances
of the Teuton whose proper chattel it was, they seized
upon the large drum, with which they made an astounding
din in the public promenades of the vessel, abetted,
I am sorry to say, by some who ought to have known
better,—and did, probably, before the whiskey
had curdled their wits. In this proceeding, as
in all their movements, they were marshalled by Flashy
Joe, whose comparatively spruce appearance, when he
came on board in the morning, had been a good deal
deteriorated by broken slumbers in places not remote
from coals, and by the subsequent course of drinks.
Quiet people were beginning to express some dissatisfaction
with the noise made by these fellows, who, however,
kept pretty much by themselves, as yet, and had got
only to the musical stage of the proceedings, chorusing
with unearthly yells a song contributed to the harmony
of the afternoon by the first ruffian, the burden
of which ran,—
“When this old hat was ny-oo, my
boys,
When this old hat was ny-oo-ooo!”
No voice in this chorus dwelt more decidedly by itself
than the shrill one belonging to the small, spare
man already spoken of as having a buxom young wife
and blue cotton overalls. During his wife’s
adjournment to the ladies’ cabin, this person,
I am obliged to record, had become boisterously drunk,—a
condition in which the contradictory elements that
make up the characters of most men are generally developed
to an instructive extent. In his first paroxysm,
the fighting man within him was all aroused, as is
generally the case with diminutive men, when under
the influence of drink. Already he had tucked
his sleeves up to fight a large German musician, who
could have put him into the bell of his brass-horn
and played him out, without much trouble. But
the song pacified him; and, with a misty sense of
his importance in a convivial point of view, on account
of the manner in which he had acquitted himself in
the chorus, he now essayed a higher flight, and treated
the party to a new version of “The Pope,”
oddly condensed into one verse, as follows:—