22 May, First dog Watch - later in the evening

"That Shriver o' yours... you ever thought o' having him slip?.. I mean, he can't really swim can he? Or jus' have him properly reported for the things he does. A capn's daughter is not something even you marines can avoid." With that said he relaxed his grip somewhat, letting Oxley do all the correcting, from the grip to where his thumb had to be.

"Feel?... wot' you mean feel it?" The drum's roll? He was sure not to break the stick, but glad it couldn't be done as easily! Would be an embarrassment if he ruined a drummer's stick when only trying to learn his trade a bit. Odd that was, being such a student to the many things. His teachers would've been proud, if only his attentions to studies had been as eager as that.

"Oh, he got in trouble for that, right enough. I think Sar'nt Quinn wanted him at the gratin', though it was when we still had Brandeson aboard - dunno if you was here afore or after he left - an' he was a drunk old sot. Didn't care 'bout anythin', an' didn't back Sar'nt Quinn up one way or the other, so he couldn't do a damn thing about it."

He sighed. "Bloody hurt, that did. Hit the mast with me shoulder an' had the most awful bruise of it for a week or more. Couldn't hardly wear me crossbelt, never mind with the drum on it. You should've heard the Sar'nt - he was... was furious. I never heard the like in me life. Well, 'part from Dad." He made a dismissive gesture. "Anyhow, I mean... you gotta let the stick move in your hand a bit, so's it'll bounce. Ain't no way you can do a drum-roll if it's clenched all in a fist, see. An' holdin' that way makes your hand all tired too. Ain't any good stoppin' a drum-roll to try to... to ease your fingers. I mean, jus' think 'bout it. If a man's at the gratin' and you's the duty drummer, means you've got to keep a drum-roll goin' for the whole thing. Can't stop jus' 'cause you's tired of holdin' the sticks."

"Wos' here about the time he was.. I do remember hearin' about him, drunken sot n'all. Just don't think I heard of that happening, so that had to be 'fore I came here." He arched an eyebrow at the mention of the young lad's dad and wondered if there was a story behind that. If his father was anything like Johnson then he was sure not wanting to meet him. And if good ol' Quinn had turned so furious about something then, it had to be really bad.

"Aye.. though, don't think the man at the grating would care if you jus' stopped. Maybe he'd have hoped that if you do, t'. .rest of it would too. " He relaxed the grip a little more but made sure that it wouldn't just slip from his hands, the way he held it. "Did you ever drop it.. when it was important?" He asked as he tried a few taps of his own before he was even told exactly how they had to be done.

"I nearly did, once. First time I was on duty an' told to beat to Quarters. Fumbled it an' hoped I could 'member what the hell I was s'posed to be doin'. An' with the First Luff glarin' at me like... Well, like only a First Luff can glare."

He gave a rueful shrug. "Guess the first time's the worst." He wished he'd 'borrowed' a pair of sticks from the Shepherds' sea-chest. "Um, I'll show the daddy-mammy first. I mean a drum-roll. 'S easy once you get the idea of it."

"Daddy-mammy? ..ain't that an odd way to call summat." He nodded and handed the pair of sticks back over to Oxley so that he'd be able to show him how the tapping was done first and how it was meant to sound. Well, he mostly knew the later, but the first he'd never observed in quite as much detail nor with a hand and mouth that could show and explain.

"...firs' lieutenants can glare a'right. .. That Mister Bush.. sir. Would have yer blood run cold if it could. N' his voice, he can shout loud enough to have yer ears bleed, i'm sure of that."

"You ever... ever heard a baby learnin' to talk? Rosie next door had a kid, see. An' the first thing a kid learns to say is dada and mama. Same sort of idea. First thing any drummer learns is a drum-roll, so's it gets called the daddy-mammy." He shrugged. "Sounds like a daft thing to call it, and I s'pose it is. It's just what us drummers call it, see. 'S easy. It's just sort of droppin' the stick on the drum an' lettin' it bounce once, then the other stick. I'll show you, if you want."

"Please do." He smiled and leaned back a little. It was a logical way to name a person's first tap. Being it was the first it should mean it was the easiest too. Daddy-mammy, not too hard to remember if only for the sillyness of the name.

"Show firs'.. n' then.. hold yer hand to your for'ead in frustration as I .. do it all wrong." He suggested.

He chuckled at that. "Ain't so hard, else it wouldn't be the first thing drummers learn, would it," he pointed out with irrefutable logic. "See, like this. It don't matter which stick you start off with, 'cause they's both goin' to do the same thing, see. It just needs to bounce once, 'fore you let the other stick drop. Try an' keep 'em the same height, too, if you can." He started slowly on the folded cloth. "It don't bounce quite right, but it does a bit. Best place, really, to learn it is on the drum, only we don't want to do that, really, not on a ship. You want to try?"

"Aye!" He reached for the sticks holding each in one hand. He adjusted his grip first and placed his thumb as he'd been shown earlier. Once he was fairly satisfied with only the grip of it he turned to the cloth. He started with the bounce of one stick before he tried the other. Bounce of one and then the other at a rather slow pace between the two.

"Wouldn't want to have anybody thinking there was summat going on that wasn't, eh?" He asked with a small grin. "Do you practice much inbetween.. jus' havin' ter do it for duty?"

Oxley shrugged. "Depends. If there's summat goin' on, yeah. Otherwise, I bin servin' long enough I know what I'm doin' - an' I'm on duty ev'ry day, though it ain't allus the same time ev'ry day. So I get to do Roast Beef of Old England for dinner time, most days. An' then there's the daddy-mammy for a floggin', or when the captain's goin' or comin' back. An' Quarters. Ain't much to 'member, just different rhythms and stuff, see." He watched de Guarde's hands and listened to the slightly unsteady tapping. "You's got the right idea there, Buckles," he said. "You need to... try to drop it from the same height it'll bounce to. Sounds more, um, even, that way, see."

"Well if you can't do a rhythm right, don't matter how easy they are, they'll sound awful.. What I think." He smiled and tried to level his hands so that the sticks were dropped from about the same height each time. He tried his best to time them more closely together, and give it a feeling that it flowed rather than being a combination of odd taps here and there.

"It's a funny feeling, just havin' it bounce like that. 'actually."

"It is, at first. You get used to it real quick though, honest." He kept watching the sticks. "See if you can mebbe do it a bit faster. Don't go too fast unless, well, unless you think you can." He nodded. "You's doin' realy good, y'know."

"Faster, gradually like , you mean?" And he did try it. Slowly he increased the speed, and when he made a mistake he picked up from the earlier tempo. He felt his cheeks grow hot, and his chest fill with pride at Oxley's words." Thanks!" He said, and he could have been no happier if somebody told him he did something good. "Ye know, is fun ter learn this!"

"Aye, like that." He nodded. After a moment he said, "Y'know, if you was to do that on a proper drum, I don't reckon anyone could tell it weren't me or one of the Shepherds. You want to try summat else now?"

"Really?" The boy was grinning so hard that his jaw was starting to hurt him and surely he looked awfully silly with that expression! "That's.. that's real nice of you to say!"

He nodded eagerly a moment later." Aye, show me! Well I'd love ter learn summat more, and you tell me what it is and what's it for and all. So I'll know, n' if I try again, it won't have ter have you all strugglin' as to show me first!" He held the sticks to Oxley to make the little presentation to him first.

"You's mad, you know that?" he said conversationally, taking the sticks back. "I dunno 'bout you, but this is the most 'portant drum call ever." He started tapping the rhythm of 'Roast Beef of Old England' which was the call for the hands' dinnertime. "We'll have to try it on the drum next. The shell, I mean, not the skin."

"Why am I mad?" He asked and listened. "Aye, I know that'un. Dinnertime. Ever t' most important time anyway. Be it yer a Tar or a midshipman. Ain't no time.. well other than other food's time that matter!" He smiled and waited for either to have the sticks back to try the rhythm as he was shown it, slow as hell at first, and then faster, or that he'd even be allowed to try it on the shell of the drum. He knew he couldn't try on the skin, just like he couldn't do the other one, that would cause panic aboard the ship.

"Wantin' to learn all this, you not bein' a M'rine drummer, nor likely to be. Here," he held the sticks out. "That'un's jus' beatin' the rhythm, see. If you know that, you know the call." He sat back. "Be fun gettin' you all rigged out proper, it will. We'll have to tell the Shepherds an' let them in on it, o' course."

"Well, maybe I can play pretend sometime." He stuck his tongue out at Oxley. "Or, stand in.. or summat if worse comes to worst.. or summat. I'll know it atleast, even if I might never need it!" He nodded curtly. "Better know summat you don't need.. than not know summat you need to."

He smiled thinking about getting all the proper clothes and how they could play some prank on the rest. "Oh, so tell the Shepherds? Or test it on them. Think we said we wanted to test it firs'.. see how they react 'fore we tell 'em?"

"Us could do that, right 'nough," Oxley said. "Though that might have to be just on the drum or summat... I dunno if I've got a jacket that'd fit you. Well, there's me old one, but I dunno that it's so nice, I mean. Might be a bit big anyhow." He nodded. "An' it's allus good to know, jus' in case we all gets sick an' there ain't anyone else who can do our duties for us." He grinned at that idea.

"Oh, You think the Shepherd's could have summat nicer or more fitting?" He asked. That of course changed their plans considerably. If they needed to ask either of the two lads, they couldn't keep it secret from them. How would it look after all if Oxley came and said '' Oi, I'd need myself a jacket from one of you. Smaller than I am!'' . Wouldn't sound half not suspicious.

"Oh yes, could be a disease that makes all you drummer boys squirmin' in yer hammocks! Who else would save ye from gettin' ill over your drums, if there wasn't someone to do t' duty for you. Least till you lot get better, really!"

"Well, they's more likely to, being as there's two of 'em, and only one of me. An' mebbe one of their jackets'd fit without any cuttin' and sewin'. Though I still think it'd be fun to surprise 'em with it. They allus like a good joke, them two." He stopped as he thought of something. "What about... if we could find a real good jacket an' other stuff - shoes and trousers an' all... you could join us for an inspection or summat. Give Sar'nt Quinn a proper shock!"

"I'm all fer it!" He said it before even considering what all that would entail. "But then I'd need them gaiters like too and uh. .your sort of boots? Or no?" He grinned thinking what a shock poor Sergeant would have. Perhaps he wouldn't notice at first? Then go counting. One, two, three ,... four? And count again. Four! Shouldn't there be three? It would be so amusing, that!

"Dunno what we should do about how ter get the whole clothes n'all. I'll trust yer call ter be best on that. Whether we tell t' Shepherds or not, and all that! Ye know them best, n' you know where to get these things best too, I'd think!"

"Think I might have a pair o' gaiters somewhere - I kept me old ones from last time I got a new uniform. Dunno 'bout shoes though. Mebbe Sticks has a spare pair, or summat. It don't matter about shirts, see." He held his arm out and pushed the jacket sleeve up to show the checked shirt he was wearing under it. "We's allowed to wear sailor's shirts, see," he said. "You'd have to get your hair done in a proper queue though... unless you have it cut, like mine." He turned his head to show de Guarde his own hair, which he wore short in the new style. "Trousers... you got a pair o' white trousers, ain't you? So we don't have to worry 'bout them."

"If'un they fit I'd be real grateful if you lend me them n'all. Well, it would be more proper I guess, If we are to pull that off as one!" He looked thoughtful counting what Oxley was telling him and where they could get it. A shirt, as he saw indicated and as he remembered getting from Thompson, could be checkered. Good, he could take his best, the one that had been downsized by a marine. Would fit the bill there. Boots, perhaps borrowed, or gotten somewhere. That solved too.

"cut my hair?" He looked shocked, appalled at the suggestion." No way, I wouldn't!" He exclaimed and covered his mouth. "I like it long." He scowled. Sure it was more work to keep it tidy and in place, but he couldn't imagine having none back there or nothing to tie it together with.

"Sure have a white pair. French pair but that'll do anyhow, won't it? That one's cleanest atleast."