10 June; Mess Duties

"Dunno eiver, it just... Well, in the 'Ome, they allus used to call me it when I was in trouble an' I got to not likin' 'ow it sounds, see." He grinned. "Looks like a whole load of squiggles. Dunno 'ow that can mean me name. 'S daft."

"Easy. They's a bunch of letters together. Each letter makes a sound, like how we say it. And that's how it's written. You just need to know the letters....well, that and it's good you know a bit how things are written, couse some just have rules and some just are as they are."

He ruffled Button's hair." Aye, That's how they adults do. When you're in trouble they'll use your full long name.. and when it's all sweet and nice, they'll call it short! Been at me home quite the same!"

"Gerroff!" He batted de Guarde's hand away and straightened his hat. "I'll stick wiv bein' Terry, me." He looked down at it. "You must be awful clever, to know all that stuff."

"Ain't clever. I was jus' taught it. Made to write and read and all. Made ter learn ter play an instrument, and ter draw too, and all sorts of little gennleman's things."

He pointed at Button. "You could know all that, with a proper tutor, I think. You'm smart enough t'. But.. you'd have ter pay attention! "

"Don't reckon I could, then. Ain't got the... don't need to, do I?" He didn't think he could pay attention for more than about a minute at a time, though. "Got too much else to learn, 'bout sailin' an' all that."

"Well writin' is same as sailing. With practice it gets better. An' sure you need to. You won't be a sailor forever, will ya?" He thought that knowing how to write was important, but he knew that anything he would say could not convince Button that it was unless he saw reason for it. And it was easier to see that when one had a family.

The ship pitched at an odd angle again, and Mathew had to grab at the sea chest to steady himself. "Hear that? I think it's begun." The winds had certainly picked up, and with it the sound of rain, rattling against the top deck.

"I prob'ly will, though. It's better'n sweepin' chimneys, though, for sure. You get to see fings when you've got to the top o' the mast, an' you don't when you's climbin' chimneys." He looked back up at the hatch.

"Reckon they's goin' to batten the 'atches down, if it's goin' to be a real storm." He sighed. "Makes all stuffy an' 'orrible down 'ere, that does."

"It's good till t' firs' one goes bad." De Guarde agreed. "Don't know whether I want ter be down here or up there when there's a storm. Stuffy down here, wet n' awfully slippery out there. Nay better either way!"

He was not supposed to be on deck. Since his service to the surgeon has not been yet called of, he was easily excused to return to the sick berth and wait the storm out , there. "Careful." Just as he'd said it the ship was in half a tilt already and riding out the wave. The sound of rain became louder, heavy, fat rain drops hammering down onto the deck. Shouts were carried down below.

Orders to take in some sail were certainly to follow as the wind seemed to come in strong gusts, and seemed only to increase.

"Wonder 'ow long it's goin' to last?"

The deck was definitely canting to one side now. "'Ope they've reefed the sails a'ready - wouldn't want to go aloft in this, I wouldn't. Well, I don't fink I would, any'ow. An' I'm bein' careful, ain't I?"

"It ain't nice ter go up there in that weather.. that's fer sure. Mos' accidents happen that way. Slip.. and.. paf.. they land on the deck!" He gazed at the wooden floors above them. His hand was firmly on his sea chest and kept him steady.

"Hope it's a short one..." He murmured. He did not want to sink and did not want to swim because he couldn't! "Is there a Tar's way ter.... ter make it shorter? Some believin'?"

Terry shook his head. "Not that I know of," he said. "Don't go talkin' like that," he added. "We'll be all right, you see if we ain't." He dropped to the dekc and pulled his legs in until he was sitting cross-legged.

"Hm." De Guarde did not sit. "Want to come to the sick berth with me now? We'll jus' put some o' the things away, that ain't there a'ready. Keep us busy n' useful an' t' surgeon will be glad of it." He smiled and offered his hand.

"It won't take long. Promise."

Terry scrambled up, trying not to mind that the deck was cantered alarmingly to one side, and that Terpsy was being buffeted by wind and waves. "'S all right," he said cheerily. "You just don't wanna do it yourself, I know."

"Well... that too! It's much faster done, if you have four pairs of hands 'stead of two. You know that as well as I." De Guarde answered with a grin. "Come on, think o' it. You're comin' and seein' t' secrets of t' surgeon' without really needin' ter get there couse of an injury. Much better way to see the sickberth, if you ask me!"

"Four pairs'd mean there was four of us," Terry pointed out, grinning. "Two 'ands makes one pair, don't they?" He ducked around the foremast. "O' course, folks like you prob'ly 'ave anuvver pair stashed aways somewhere for a rainy day..."

"..Two pairs.. one pair. Oh shut it. I was jus' making sure you can count!" He stuck his tongue out at Button. "And if you're paying attention at all.. and seems you do!" He reached out to Button thinking to smack him over the head for that cheek, but he missed and had to be satisfied with running after him instead.

"I'll have your extra pair han'in off t' mast, so I will, just to prove I'm right, you doof!"

"I c'n count. Can't cipher, mebbe, but can count. An' I ain't got anuvver pair o' hands anywheres for you to do anyfing wiv, silly." He danced out of range, and stuck his tongue when the other boy tried to clout him and missed.