Adventure Magazine Cover — page 140: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

134 of his watch as Micky was of his. And it was the misfortune of the Marquis to be picked in Chivers’ watch. Only at the change of the watch, or in the dog-watches, did Micky get a chance to improve the acquaintance of the little Frenchman. At such times as they met with leisure Micky took pride in showing the dapper sea-novice many things of which he was wofully ignorant. Perhaps there never§was a signed able seaman so utterly lacking in the simplest rudiments of his profession. His hands, at the end of three days, were raw pieces of shapeless meat, instead of the girlish, pink-tipped appendages they had been; and it was Micky who slushed them and dressed them day after day until they recovered shape and took on toughness. “Ha! Now am I wat zey call ze tough guy, no?” chirruped the Marquis, smiling ruefully at his calloused palms when his friend announced them cured. “I pool ze lee-fo’-brace, I stan’by —royal-halliard, = a “Ye’re all thim things, Marquis,” grinned Micky approvingly. ‘Now we got to thry to tache yez not to kick loike a mule, but to use yer hands loike a man. Th’ lads is thryin’ to git ye mad, jist fer sport, an’ ’t is Big Bill as is eggin’ ’em on to do it.” The Marquis’s eyes sparkled, but his lips were pursed in doubt. ‘‘An’ eef zey mak me mad, angree, an’ smack me by ze face, shall I not ” ‘Sure!’”’ Micky put in heartily. ‘‘Sure, laddie, yez’ll have to give wallop fer wallop or they’ll all pile onto yez. But ’t is the way 0’ sailormen, mostly, to hit wid the hands. If ye kick a man whin he’s down, everybody knows ye sarved yer toime in German ships.” The Marquis’s sparkling black eyes glit- tered angrily at the mention of German ships, as Micky intended. “Bot I know not ze scrap-box!”’ he cried. “In my countree ze gentilhomme he do la savate, see, like zis—’’ And he illus- trated his method by brushing Micky’s face with his foot as swiftly and gently as the darting of ahumming-bird. Micky laughed. “Sure, Oi know ut, Marquis. Didn’t all hands see ut whin ye floored Big Bill? But it ain’t white, sonny, it ain’t white.”’ “Bot ze Beeg Beel he do ze same to me in ze beginning!’ There was puzzlement in the protest. Adventure “Well now,”’ Micky retorted with a grin, “an’ wud yez want to folly a feller loike him now? Did yez see me put the boots to anny mon yit? An’ can’t Oi handle meself and take care 0’ some o’ the rest 0’ ye too? “Come, Marquis, Oi loike yez a lot, or Oi wudn’t take throuble wid a mon as kicked another in the mug, be ! Oil tache yez to use yer hands, an’ yez’ll tache me to uge me feet, in dancin’, not scrappin’. Is thot a go?” Marquis showed that the stuff in him was right, even if his methods, through usage, were wrong. Pirouetting gracefully on bare toes, like a Ballet Fairy, he “‘tra- la-la’ed”’ merrily, and concluded with a flourish in front of Micky, while all hands standing by guffawed in derision. ‘““Zere!’’? smiled the little Frenchman, ignoring the others. “Like zat you shall dance, Mickee. Bot mooch time is zere for ze dance to learn. First I shall ze scrap-box try, yes?” “Up on de hatch wid yel’’ laughed Micky gleefully. ‘Sure, we'll show these fellies a bit o’ the rale thing. Oj’ll bet a spud yez’ll be rooster-weight champeen 0’ this foine ship Hesperides long afore she bumps Circular Quay. Don’t moind them afin’ at yez, me boy. Thim lafis last as laffs afterwards, sure. Come thin, put yer hands up loike this.” THE Marquis obeyed every in- struction with nimble grace, he BICLE assumed every posture indicated as to the manner born. Micky beamed encouragement and gratification. Many a time he had seen a slender, light-footed man like the Frenchman turn out a thump- ing good boxer, if only the courage was there; and he had no fear in this case. He dropped his hands, and stepped back. “Now thin, ye have all the motions. Oi’ll tache yez to hit, stop, and git away now. Whin Oi lead wid me left, ye’ll slither back sideways loike Oi showed yez, thin. before Oi git clear, yez’ll thry to wallop me on the beak, see? Don’t be feared o’ hurrtin’ me. ’Tis only a friendly spar, an’ Oi won’t hould ut agin yez av I git a painted peeper. Ready!” Somebody about the hatch called— “tes The rest guffawed, and the Marquis obeyed his teacher so smartly and accu- a .rately that Micky’s left lead missed him by COMMICLOOOKS (C@