Boys at Play, 2nd June

"I am. While I's on light duties, I serve t' him as his loblolly boy. An' I have ter do all t' duties o' one. It's no climbin' of sorts, which is easier, couse it don't make me...well, it's better on me hind quarters." He grunted, not very comfortable in saying it so directly.

He shut up very quick when Button began to speak again, and this time it was to give a request for a drink. His drink, which he would be delighted to have, if only so enabled. He grinned, looked left and right and felt excited that he might be getting it after all. Well, Button earned himself a good few points in his book.

"Oh. Ain't very comfy climbin' after gettin' a quiltin' from Mister Foxley's tawse," Terry muttered.

Mister Savery came to the door. "If Mister Foxley finds out I'm givin' out rum..." he said.

"Oh, 'e won't, not from me, promise!" Terry said earnestly, and the steward relented, reaching for a black bottle.

"Nor me, Mister Savery, sir." He shook his head and held his hand to swear an oath of secrecy. "Not even if'n they use searin' hot pliars on m' nails, they won't." He grinned, looking towards the bottle that the steward was keeping in possession. Excellent!

"I ain't a sir. Petty officer only is what I am," Savery said gruffly. "Don't reckon you've got a mug with you, either of you?" He searched around for a bit and came up with a battered pewter tankard, and slopped a dollop of rum into it. "There. Now run along - and mind I get that tankard back, Terry Button!"

"You will, promise!" Terry said, grinning as he accepted the tankard. "C'mon, Buckles." He wanted to get out of here before Mister Foxley came along and found them.

"Thank you Mister." The lad grinned. He turned around on his heels quickly, and went after Button. they accomplished and got what they came for. The tankard would be returned once it was empty!

"Give 'oles. Not so fast." He said to the boy, quickening his own pace. Calling Button, Holes was done simply because it was the first thing that came to mind and if Mister Foxley was lurking anywhere's, not hearing his name would be just as good not to come see,

"What?" Button paused, looking back, a puzzled look on his face. "What was that, then?" he asked, curious, wondering if perhaps he'd misheard de Guarde. It would be easy enough to do so, of course, with the sounds of Terpsy's creaking in the wind, and the noise of the water rushing past outside her hull.

"Wot' was what? I called yer Holes... ..jus' .. in case." He answered and managed to catch up with the boy. "Wot' I asked yer is, whether you could slow down! Yer can speed up like t' wind, but I ain't yet so.. agile, aye?" He smiled and looked at the tot. "Better we duck out some'eres." He paused. "Not t' hold, don't think, but I'm open ter any place.. else. Even t' marines mess. Nobody'd think ter look fer you there. Yer ain't a marine n'all." He whispered that.

Sensible, that... though he couldn't figure out why 'Holes' of all things. It sounded like a strange sort of nickname. But anything that'd stop the purser guessing it was him was good, in Terry's opinion.

"Ain't goin' in the M'rine's mess. What d'you take me for?" Terry replied, wondering if de Guarde had gone mad. Now, where could they hide out of view and out of the way? The gundeck, maybe? Though... maybe not - there were a deal too many folks up there.

"You's workin' in the sickbay, ain'tcha?" he said, thinking. "Reckon we might be able to hide there for a bit?" Though, that might not be so easy with Buckles holding a tot of rum - although they might be able to persuade the surgeon that it was the other boy's noonday tot that he hadn't drunk yet.

"Dunno. But I bet nobody'd have been looking for you there. Ain't a place fer Tars to go. " He shrugged and went along with where Button was taking him. "Aye, I am workin' there." They could hide, but he did not think he wanted Mister Farley to see him drinking when he probably ought not have. "I dunno....I'd prefer we weren't going there. See I am workin there, n' I don't want t'... show a bad example or summat. And I bet he'd know I was drinkin' summat I should not have.. and he'd take it away from us." And probably take from him the dose of laudanum that he was still supposed to get.

"...Where else can we go?"

"Dunno then," Terry said, shrugging. "'Ang around on the messdeck? Dunno what the off-watch folks're s'posed to be doin', though." He was a little disappointed that de Guarde didn't want to go back to the sickbay, but it was understandable, he supposed. "Go an' sit where we was earlier?" He couldn't think of anywhere else apart from the hold, the gun-deck or the foc'sle, and Buckles didn't want to go down to the hold, and the gundeck and foc'sle were a bit too open for Terry's taste.

"...Hm...at t' very wors'.. we could go down in t' hold...sneak there. Sit.. em.. lie with t' rats.. but we'd be left 'lone. " He relented. Going back to where they could easily be spotted was just as bad an idea as the sickbay. "....Will you ever not be skulkin' 'round when you shouldn't." He asked in whisper and a scowl. Not that they were not looking for a place to be hidden away, also because he thought to drink!

"Dunno. I done me work t'day - ain't anyfin' else t'do, any'ow," Terry shot back. There was the hold, but he'd rather not go down there into the inky thick blackness, not today, not if he didn't have to. "You could drink that up an' we could go up t'the sickbay an' 'e wouldn't know nuffin' about it?" he suggested.

"Aye. Give it then." He held his hand towards Button. "T' sooner it's down m' throat, t' lesser the chance that somebody'll be takin' it off us." He arched a brow."Why do ye want t' go t' the sickbay. Didn' ye say you didn' like going there? "

Terry shrugged and passed the tankard over. "It's diff'rent when you ain't the one who's sick, though. I never really bin in th'sickbay, see. Well, had t'have tooth out once. Bloody 'urt, that done."

"I'll show you around, but you promise now not to touch anything." He made a few quick gulps and grinned. " 'couse there's lots of things that could break. An' if they get lost Mister Farley will have my hide!" And he did not want that hide touched unless for the dressing to be changed! "Yer tooth was one of them real young ones? Those hurt you that bad?"

"I won't touch nuffin', I promise!" As if he'd dare touch anything. He shook his head. "Broke a tooth onna bit o' biscuit, di'n't I? Had to 'ave it pulled. 'Urt like blazes it done an' all."

"You'm a bit young to be loosin' teeth you know that?" He emptied the mug and looked smug and satisfied. " So,.. anyway, they pulled a live one outta ya , stead of one that was already wiggling out t' freedom?" He eyed Button's mouth as if trying to see the state of his teeth.

"Anyone can break a tooth - 'specially on hardtack when it's about the first time you ever 'ad it, near 'nough," Terry pointed out. He scowled at the other boy. "Betcha you've 'ad a tooth out, then, too, 'cause I ain't the only one, that's for sure."

"I only got t' teeth out that were meant t' be replaced by t' teeth that were comin' up! I never got m' tooth pullt' couse it was broke!" He chuckled and began towards the sickbay. "I bet you'll be all gray by t' time yer start growin' a beard!"

"Only wiv flour or summat, I bet." Terry couldn't imagine ever having a beard. "You don' wanna 'ave a toof out, neither - like I said, 'urts like anyfin'." He looked curiously at the other boy. "What's the worst pain you's ever felt?"

"Wot' do ye mean t' worst pain?.. Summat that hurt t' worst? T' worst origin o' pain? The worst sort?" He touched his chin. teeth were too sensitive, too demanding and taking a tooth out also made it harder to eat!

"I mean, what hurt the most? 'Cause... I don't like Mister Foxley's tawse" - well, who would! - "but it don't 'urt so much as when I 'ad me toof pulled. 'S all right now, though. Don't 'ardly notice it ain't there no more."

"Um.. wot' hurt t' most... well. " Button knew anyhow. Everybody did by now. "...'s a pretty bad pain ter be hurt on t' a'ready sensitive, cut open flesh. Like..'s if you've got yeself all bruised n' striped and then get it there again. That hurts pretty bad." He studied his hand. A thing he could say. And then he flushed, biting his lip: "Doin a'.....uh,... goin' ter t' Heads fer... you know... after uh.. that, also 'urts bad. Never got m' tooth pulled."

"... oh an'.. bein' kicked in t' groin.... that goes with t' worst! 'specially if they's knee you right like they should, flat on." He remembered how he had found himself sagging after Oxley decided to knee him there.

Why were they talking about that sort of thing, anyway? Terry nodded. "'Urts summat bad when Mister Foxleys gets his tawse out, too." He brightened a little. "Any'ow, ain't we goin' to the sickbay? Th'surgeon don't 'urt folks like that. Well... on'y 'cause he's tryin' to make 'em better, any'ow.

"T's urgeon only hacks yer arms and legs off, n' pokes at your entrails, when they're all hangin' out o' ye." De Guarde said innocently and quickened the pace. They were almost there. Then they could poke around if Mister Farley was not in. He did not want to disturb the man by their nattering on about things. Somehow, he wanted him to have a good opinion of himself and to keep it.

"'e also pulls teeth out." He added, quite as innocently as before.